#i let the little demon worms in my brain win this time

[beauleifu]

HELLO GOOD MORNING 👁〰️👁 HOW ARE YOU?? I literally just woke up HEHDHS MERRY HOLIDAYS FREN

Let’s hope that my request is readable since my brain be mushed💦 Could we get a S/O who’s very flirty and tries to win Mayor’s heart during a mission while he acts oblivious at their attempts to swoon him, he finds them charming for what they do c:

YES CHIMEMORI THIS ASK IS BRILLIANT

oml i never thought i'd be into an idea more, guys guys this was so much fun to write, like PRETENDING TO BE A COUPLE SHIT, anyways, hope you enjoy! Sorry if it's late lmao, hardest part was figuring out what the mission should entail <3 :))

p.s. dont come for me, this is purely fictional and even though I did a tiny bit of research, i know little of dishes served in fancy Chinese restaurants and even less about their signature architecture style, i'm just going off my imagination

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MAYOR X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: You're in love. The problem? You're terrible at it. To make matters worse, the charmer you've fallen for is oblivious to your flirtatious antics (or is he??). Thankfully, all's well that ends well especially when Lady Bone Demon assigns you two together, on a mission. Matchmakers really do play dirty.

CW: None, Mayor doesn't even tolerate foul language (you learned the hard way)

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

"Go."

Those were the last words Lady Bone Demon said to both you and her henchman before vanishing in a cloud of blue smoke.

It never bothered you, the missions she'd send you on.

You're working for her; it's not like you can complain about something you signed up for. Externally, you follow orders to a T, because if you're not useful then she'll be rid of you. And that is simply not an option, because if you're not at her side then you're not at his.

The Mayor.

The idiot who wormed his way into your cold heart of fire and ice.

And you don't even know his real name.

You've resorted to nicknames, to which he doesn't mind (you'll get extra creative behind doors, alone), but you're really dying to know his birthname. Perhaps with a bit more time, he'll open up.

Right now, you're standing in the mirror, as you have been for the past two minutes. Just staring. Nothing wrong with that.

Unless you were making sure you look perfect for . . . someone.

That's hypothetical, of course.

An idiot in denial looks back at you in the reflection, nervous and tense with anticipation of what's to come.

With a huff, you will yourself not to screw this one up and grasp the doorknob to your bedroom. Your spacious, beautiful bedroom, carved from stone and bone and ice long, long ago. The Mayor had given you a tour of the place once, having been eager to relay to you the wonderful history of this underground fortress. A buried landscape of beauty.

Oh dear, you're getting sidetracked.

Focus, (Y/N).

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

"Soooo. I guess Lady Bone Demon put us together, huh? Wonder what she's got in store for us."

Well, that was an awkward start.

Lucky for you, it's dark outside and the lack of light is sufficient enough to hide the embarrassment clear on your face. Your partner keeps on strolling down the abandoned alleyway, hands folded neatly behind his back and that familiar, lazy smile on his face.

"Did she not enclose the details to you?" The Mayor asks, turning to you.

Shrugging, you vault over a few storage crates. "Not really."

As you slow to a walk beside him, the two of you round the corner into a more open sidewalk, exhibiting a nice view of the Megapolis Bank.

Briefly, you hypothesize that this is your destination, when the Mayor clears his throat, a sure sign he's about to elaborate.

"My Lady needs another soul to absorb, and conveniently for us, there lies within Megapolis a demon powerful enough to sustain her for the time being," the Mayor hums, blank white eyes flicking to the sky. He's always on constant alert, and yet he always seems so relaxed and chipper. "We are to retrieve the asset and deliver him for proper sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?"

He flashes you a wry smile. "He is an energy source, my dear. Otherwise, my mistress will surely fail to fulfill her destiny, being as weak as she is."

A frown lights your features. Lady Bone Demon doesn't look weak.

You chalk it up to demons being superb at hiding their true selves. Half the time you can't even dissect the Mayor's intentions, even if it's a simple trip to the men's room and he'd told you he'd be unavailable for a few minutes.

In the end, you smile. "As long as there's a reward for delivering an innocent person to her."

"Reward?" The Mayor repeats, blinking. "That being fulfilling our destiny; to serve her. Were you hoping for something else?"

Oh, there's no reward.

You stare incredulously at your partner, about to backtrack, when he suddenly chuckles in amusement. Your eyes widen (see? See? The Mayor is incredibly hard to read), jaw slackening as you realize.

"You're joking. There is a reward!"

"Perhaps! Would you consider the next few days off prize enough?"

You're grinning, now, tailing alongside the Mayor like a joyful puppy. His eyes are twinkling at your antics. "A few days?? Are you kidding? That goes way beyond my expectations."

It's true. Lady Bone Demon hardly ever rewards you for completing your missions. The most time she's given you off is eight hours, and even then you'd treated those moments like gold, savoring it up until you were summoned once more.

This missions suddenly feels extremely important.

Maybe that's why LBD offered this specific reward; to entice you to go against your morals. Then again, where were your morals when you served someone like her?

"I see you're properly motivated," the Mayor says, eyes fixed on you.

You wink, attempting a flirt. "This'll be a piece of cake. And hey, maybe we can spend our days off together."

He pauses, seeming to actually consider this.

"I wouldn't refuse a game of chess."

"No, I meant- oh, nevermind," you say with a little, awkward laugh. Sighing wistfully, you clear your throat and glance sideways. "So! Are we almost there? Where are we going, anyways? The bank?"

The Mayor falls quiet as the two of you pass a few strangers. "A restaurant," the Mayor answers, when the people turn a corner. He flexes his fingers. "The demon is the owner. An intelligent move on his part, for there is no risk of encountering people like us. Unless, of course, we booked reservations for first-class service."

He's smiling mysteriously, now. You could almost call it mischievous.

You're getting near it now. The details of this mission.

"This must be a very fancy restaurant, then."

"The finest in the city," the Mayor agrees, turning a corner. Then, he stops all together, enticing you to halt as well. "We must dress and act the part if we are to get close to the target. Be polite, don't refuse the wine selection."

You nod, mentally prepping yourself for the mission. Then, your eyes trail up, realizing exactly why your partner had stopped.

The restaurant is huge, glittering, and loud.

Five, gold stars are positioned just beneath the restaurant's trademark name, The Dragon Dynasty. A thick trail of people waiting in line flow out of the building and to the left, vanishing down the sidewalk. A similar line stretching to the right is much smaller, but greeted at the door by two hulking men dressed in tight black suits, wearing sunglasses and deep frowns. The token bodyguards you'd see in everyday action movies.

The breath is stolen from you. Slowly, you glance down at your own attire, feeling suddenly very underdressed and very stupid.

"We can't go in there. Not like this!" You gasp.

Your partner smiles knowingly. "My lady is completely prepared for this, my dear. She was the sole one responsible for booking reservations months in advance, you know."

"I know that. But it's not like she can magically manifest a-"

You cut yourself off.

For some reason, your skin begins to tingle. Eyes wide with shock and awe, you glance down at the Mayor's own attire, watching it shift and transform into something more fit for the occasion. A lovely, handsome black tuxedo with a long tail and a white bow. His undershirt ghosted from light blue to white in mere moments, the black sleeves of his tux slipping upwards to reveal white cuffs.

Your own attire has endured a similar transformation, something that hugs your body flawlessly and washes away any insecurities you'd been nursing regarding the mission.

Fingertips tentatively travel along your new outfit. "Oh my stars."

"How elegant," the Mayor says, slippery-smooth, his white eyes suddenly like a hawk. "My lady has astute taste in fashion."

Your cheeks are on fire, but you manage a smile.

"You as well. Very debonair."

The outfits feel like they're meant for each-other, even somewhat bone-themed to better represent your mistress. Your companion gives you one last once-over before continuing down the sidewalk.

"Shall we?"

Biting your lip, you sidle up next to him, unable to help glancing over his outfit a few times.

"That outfit really brings out your smile, y'know."

He hums a laugh. "Very corny, my dear. I'm sure you'll reap great success if you attempt something similar in front of our target."

You're frowning, now. Try again. "Uh . . . How about, um . . . If I had a flower for every time you made me smile, I'd be walking in my garden forever," you say seriously, daring to look at him.

That line.

It was meant for him. Of course, it's hidden under the assumption it's meant for someone else.

The Mayor's eyebrows lift. "You have yet to meat the target, though."

"Oh. Oh, right. I mean, hypothetically. I dunno. Maybe it would work on someone I've known for awhile? Someone I work with?" You babble, heart rate spiking as you near the restaurant. Which line will you wait in? How are you ever going to get close to the manager? Why does your face feel on fire?

His smile is relaxed once more. "I suppose."

You swallow. Try again?

Lips part to formulate the words for another pick-up line, but the Mayor glance down at you, beating you to it.

"Oh, one final detail I forgot to disclose. My lady made reservations for the two of us as, dare I say, a couple. First class is not often given to single individuals, families, or mere companions."

Ah.

Your heart skips a beat. "A couple?"

"Don't worry, it's a temporary act in order to get close to the manager. We might as well get the full experience," he returns, eyes twinkling. "Won't this be fun?"

Throat running quite dry, you nod. "With you? I can't imagine it being too awful."

He chuckles again, but there's no more time for words.

You've made it to the front.

The bodyguards stare down at you for a moment before moving to the side to reveal a small, well-dressed woman drowning in make-up, who stands and approaches the two of you with a dull frown. She's seen this before. Been doing this all night, and probably wants to go home desperately.

"Last name?" The lady says boredly.

You feel the Mayor's arm slide through yours, linking the both of you together. "Bone," he says smoothly.

Bone.

How fitting.

You decide it's better than using a last name from Lady Bone Demon's time, considering she's ancient and has lived long past hundreds of family names. 'Bone' is even in her title. Fitting, indeed.

The woman shifts through her clipboard, eyes narrowing. You hold your breath.

"Mr. and Mx. Bone. You got a meeting with the boss?"

"Correct," the Mayor says.

The lady nods. "Through here, then."

She sidesteps, gesturing through the large golden doors, opening one of them to let the two of you pass. Ignoring the glares and mutters of the people in line, the two of you enter the building, leaving behind the cold outdoors and entering an entirely different world.

It's amazing.

You can't describe it. Not the plants you've never seen before in the corners, not the dazzling chandelier overseeing the luxurious dining tables and bars, the glittering diamonds reflecting off the wine bottles sitting by the hundreds on the wine racks. They stretch up to the ceiling, where Chinese history paints the sky with beautiful colors and people. A band in the corner plays smooth café music, the sound distant yet nostalgic for you. And there's people. So many people, despite how hard it is to get a reservation here. They crowd the place, making it difficult to navigate to first class.

The Mayor gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "Should I be afraid you might fall unconscious?"

"No. Are you trying to seduce me?"

"No," he hums, leading you up the wide, elegant, bifurcated staircase. Your free hand trails along the polished, wooden handrail, wishing your eyes were wider so you could see absolutely everything.

"Well, it's working," you whisper, half to yourself.

Pretend to be a couple. Wear expensive clothes probably worth more than your life. Eat at the fanciest restaurant in the city.

You feel like maybe you should read between the lines.

But all of the sudden, you're too busy reading the menu, eyes wide at the expansive selection.

So. Much. Food.

Your stomach growls in anticipation.

"Do we even have the money for this?" You wonder, breathless.

The Mayor's eyes rove over his own menu before placing it down and lacing his fingers together underneath his chin. Locking eyes with you, he cocks a brow. "Need I remind you my Lady has been planning this for months? She is-"

"Completely prepared, I know," you mumble, ducking behind the menu.

Glaring at the beautifully decorated dinner table, you bite your lip and think. Tonight might be your once chance to woo the Mayor. Is it crazy, though, to try it here? Now?

Heart racing, you lower the menu.

"I've never been on a date with a demon, before."

The Mayor had been observing the portraits lining the walls, but now his white eyes are on you. "A date?"

"Don't worry, this won't send my expectations through the roof," you continue, wearing a casual smile yet you're nervous to the bone. Hiding shaking hands under the sleek tablecloth, you try for a small smile. "Spending time with you meets all of them."

Fingers crossed, you hope this works.

The Mayor nods, eyes trailing to inspect your outfit. "We do what's necessary to fulfill our mistress's desires, I suppose."

No.

NO.

You'd failed! He's too oblivious!

Wishing you could throw hands and let out an exasperated yell, you take a deep, controlled breath. You can still make this WORK. "I mean, it's not everyday I get to spend time with my favorite person."

"Hmm." The Mayor's eyes rove over your features, thoughtful yet cheery at the same time. He suddenly chuckles. "You must be hungry, my dear! We mustn't pick favorites when it comes to food, but I daresay I have yet to turn down a dish of roasted duck. Shall we order while the night is still young?"

God damnit.

This is going to be harder than you thought.

You force a smile. "Uh-huh. Yup. I'll have (dinner dish)."

The two of you make your orders when the waitress walks by, and it still sends tingles down your spine when she addresses you both under the same last name.

When she walks off, you're inclined to notice the other couples sitting at the other tables.

Eyes darting south, you inspect a specific pair.

Their holding hands.

Head snapping up, you lift your hands onto your own table and make a motion for the Mayor to do the same. He eyes you curiously, and you shrug. "The other couples are doing it. We might as well, to look the part. Just for a bit."

"I suppose, if you're sincerely nervous about getting caught," he hums.

In one swift movement, he takes your hands in his.

They're cold.

And yet, it sends a thrill of warmth through your entire body, and you fight hard to suppress a smile. Here you were, trying to flirt with him, and yet getting destroyed by your own plans. Oh, gosh.

He seems to detect the tremble in your fingers. "Eager to get this over with?" He guesses, eyes seeing right through you.

You shake your head quickly. "Nuh-uh. This is amazing."

"You did mention your outfit likely costs more than your life," he murmurs, eyes twinkling with the fact that he doesn't believe this claim. "I advise you try and make the most of it."

"Ha ha. Your hands are cold."

"You don't like it?"

He seems ready to let go, so you give him a squeeze before removing one to pat the top of his hand. "I do like it. Your hands are the best. Big cold grabbers that snatched my soul from my chest the moment I saw you."

"Ha! It's a wonder you're still alive." He flashes you his signature unhinged smile.

Then, woe is you, he lets you go. You're cursing your rotten luck as he leans back in his vanilla soft chair. "You must be wondering how we are to set our plan in motion?"

"A bit, yeah," you say faintly. Really, you're wondering what other ways you can get the Mayor to notice your flirtatious attempts.

"You see, first class seating not only secures us an exquisite meal, but also a chance to discuss business plans with the manager. My Lady was willing to pay an entire chest of coins to set up a private meeting with our target!" The Mayor says, clasping his hands together with a dark look in his eyes. "Isn't that wonderful!"

You bite your lip. "So what are we doing waiting here, then?"

"As you will soon find out, the asset is protected by a constant flow of bodyguards, those of which I trust you to subdue in due time. For now, we have five minutes until the show begins." A glance at his watch, wisps of blue flowing from the metal. Then, eyes full of excitement, he cracks a sincere smile. "I eagerly await your performance, my dear."

Wait a second.

You ball your hands in your fists. "You want me to subdue the bodyguards? Shouldn't I be enticing the target?"

"While it's true that the target prefers either man or woman, I shall do the talking. He has an intricate way of discussing matters that quite irks my Lady, and will no doubt touch a sore spot with you."

"Pfft. You're the only sore spot I have," you say, smiling.

He returns it tenfold as two bodyguards ascend the staircase and station themselves at either side of the eating area. Then, the target himself makes his presence clear. He's a quite large fellow, with spiraling horns and razor sharp claws. Yet his eyes are intelligent and darting everywhere in search of danger.

You catch the Mayor's quick side glance; orders to carry out the mission.

If you leave, the demon is sure to send one of his guards to keep an eye on you. When you two are alone, you are to properly subdue the guard and make the owner suspicious enough to send his other guard for a quick investigation. Bam.

Sure, the bodyguards could crush you, but you'd rather them than a literal demon with claws and fangs.

So you slide off your chair, giving the manager a dashing smile before trailing your fingertips up the Mayor's arm, stopping at his shoulder and squeezing lightly.

"A kiss before I go, darling? I'll only be five minutes."

The Mayor blinks, white eyes wide.

He collects himself quickly, however, and tilts his head just an inch to the side, giving you permission.

You smile, giving his cheek a light peck. You'd go for the real deal, but you sort of want to be a tease right now. It's working, as you catch the Mayor's distracted glance as you head off to who knows where. The bar, maybe. Everyone's left there.

You stop at the doors, straining yourself to hear the conversation at the top level. Unfortunately, you'd picked a place far out of ear reach.

"Fear not, my loyal pawn . . ."

You stiffen, eyes darting down to your outfit.

Someone had spoken.

From the fabric.

A light, female laugh reaches your ears. "It's your mistress, (Y/N). I am here to assist you in your mission."

Eyes wide and staring at your clothes, you clear your throat and cock your head, hesitation writhing inside of you. "Uh . . . hi. This won't, um, subtract any days off from my break, right?"

"No, don't worry. Now . . ."

A pocket watch materializes on your hip.

You pick it up, admiring the soft bone shell that encompasses the watch, flipping it open to see the interior. But alas, it's not a watch.

It's some sort of spying mechanism.

"Use this to observe and listen to your partner's conversation," LBD whispers in your ear. "It will vanish after tonight."

You nod wordlessly, knowing better than to offer a smart reply or crack a joke. If it were the Mayor, you'd for sure pull something silly, but this is your boss.

Swallowing nervously as LBD's presence fades, you peer at the watch/spyglass, eyes narrowing curiously. Forget about LBD manifesting in your clothes (she did create them, you suppose), the Mayor was currently hosting a false discussion with the manager regarding a potential trade in goods. His tone and demeanor is strangely unhinged when you're not around, intimidating yet cheery, his movements also loud and boisterous. You wonder if it's all an act.

The stuff they discuss just goes in one ear and out the other.

That is, until the manager sends one of his guards down to check on you. The five minute mark.

You're late.

Smiling wickedly, you pocket the watch and recede into the shadows. Time to put your skills to use, yessir.

Of course, you do. Flawlessly.

The bodyguard stood no chance. He has zero warning as you launched yourself onto him, hooking your legs around his neck and bringing him crashing to the floor. Luckily, no was is around to witness the attack, giving you plenty of time to overpower the man with a few quick jabs - and he falls still.

Then, you drag his body into the nearest men's room, grunting with effort.

You do (and can't help but) pause at the many artworks lining the walls, and the beautiful designs that cover the restroom sinks. If only this were a real date, you think wistfully.

Once the man is properly hidden, you take out the watch again.

"Didn't your partner say they'd only be five minutes? It's been twenty," the manager is saying.

"Are you changing the subject, perhaps?"

"No! I'm suspicious."

"Whatever reason to be suspicious, my good man! I'm sure they haven't gotten themself into any trouble. We have wine to enjoy!"

That's your Mayor. Crazy and theatrical as ever.

"Nonetheless." The manager snaps his fingers, grabbing the last bodyguard's attention. In a silent movement, he instructs the hulking man to follow you, sealing his fate.

You listen for a few more moments, biting your lip as you watch the manager play right into the Mayor's hands.

Either from intimidation or something else.

God, he's good.

You're too busy admiring your comrade to notice the danger.

Too late, you hear the restroom door swing open, and suddenly there stands a tall, imposing figure in the doorway. Your escape route is blocked. The bodyguard spares one glance at you, and the occupied bathroom stall next to you, and correctly assumes the worst.

You whip to your feet, stuffing the watch in your pocket where you feel it dissipate into the clothes.

"Uh-" You start, offering a show of hands. "Nice bathroom, huh?"

The bodyguard shuts the door and locks it.

Damnit.

You roll your shoulders, feeling regret at the prospect of damaging your outfit. Keeping your cool, you meet the guy's cold gaze behind his dark sunglasses. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it with me."

Silence.

"Good. 'Cause you'll soon be talking about how you got the best sleep of your life-"

You lunge, teeth bared.

The bodyguard is well prepared, though.

One quick movement of his arm is all it takes to stop your plans all together and send to crashing to the floor, wheezing and clutching your stomach.

He stalks towards you, footsteps loud on the chalk white, polished floor.

You wince as his hand raises to crush you, when-

When his eyes glaze over.

Mouth open in a silent, shocked scream, he convulses on the spot, crumbling to the floor in a mess of noiseless gasps and gags. His skin turns sallow and grey, the life draining from his eyes.

You look up.

The Mayor stands over the bodyguard's lifeless body, eyes glowing.

They dim down a bit when they lock with yours, but that unhinged smile never leaves. "What a coincidence to see you, my dear! I see you're having trouble with your part of the mission."

"Thank you," you gasp, scrambling to your feet. "I tried to seduce him with the architecture here- quite pretty, might I say - but he wasn't having it. You wanna take his place?"

"I'd be delighted," he hums cheerily, holding out a hand. "But I do believe we are short on time."

"Right, right. Did you just suck out his soul, by the way?"

As you take his arm and he draws you close, the both of you oblivious to the chaos outside the beautiful restaurant, the Mayor has the dignity to roll his eyes fondly. "I doubt that concerns you, darling, but I suppose it's fruitless to offer a different explanation."

"I think it was so hot," you flirt, grinning stupidly.

He merely blinks, pulling you closer. A word of preparation in your ear and he teleports the both of you to your dinner table, above the madness taking place below.

The manager looks furious.

"There you are! One minute we were just about to sign the papers and the next, you vanish!"

The Mayor simply smiles smugly. "Apologies! I was simply protecting my comrade from danger! I'm sure you understand."

The target's eyes dart from you to the menacing bone demon at your side. Realization crosses his uneasy face. "Where are my guards?" He wonders briefly, glancing down the balcony.

At that moment, the Mayor makes his move.

He locks eyes with you. "Close your eyes, my darling. We'll be leaving, now."

You obey without thought, squeezing your eyes shut.

The world spins out of focus and you feel your feet swept out from under you, but the Mayor keeps a firm hold of you. Even when your feet once again meet solid ground, he won't relinquish his hold, if but a mere relaxation of his grip.

You crack an eye open.

"Well done."

Both eyes flick wide to take in your surroundings. You're back in LBD's underground fortress, the chaos of The Dragon Dynasty but a mere ghost of what it was.

At your side; the Mayor, dressed in his usual attire. Fancy suit gone.

At your feet; the manager, tied up and gagged.

Asleep, mercifully.

Your own beautiful attire has been reduced to what it was before, all traces of LBD's magic gone. Part of you misses feeling so wonderfully luxurious, but you're really just happy to be alive and back home.

Lady Bone Demon herself slowly descends the stone steps, her stony gaze bordering on approval. Crouching, she inspects the demon at her feet. "Excellent," she hisses.

Sharp, cold eyes flick upwards. "You may go."

The Mayor gives a short bow, still smiling, still with his arm around your waist.

It shifts to hook around your arm, gently yet firmly tugging you away. "Enjoy, my Lady."

You remain silent, something you'd learned was appreciated here. Only when the towering doors to LBD's chambers close do you turn to the Mayor with a goofy smile on your face.

"That was awesome!"

He allows himself to relax, smile more casual. "Agreed."

"Let's not do that ever again."

"Never?"

You laugh, feeling light as air as you travel down the large, imposing hallway, adorned with countless side doors and flaring blue torches. You've gotten used to the bones in every corner, with furry rodents scattering into eyes of skulls and through cracks in the walls.

When you calm down, the Mayor stops and leans down, murmuring right in your ear. "You know, I'd like to have that kiss back now."

Your heart jumps.

Eyes wide, you stare up at him, noses inches apart.

"I-I thought you didn't notice . . ."

"You thought I was oblivious?" A softer smile lights his features, white eyes boring into yours. A deep chuckle vibrates in his throat. "Oh, sweet thing. I thought you were adorable tonight."

Cheeks heating up, you swallow dryly. "T-Thanks. I, um . . . thought you were pretty-"

The last part of your sentence is cut off rather sharply.

The Mayor closes the distance between your lips in one swift movement, one hand sliding behind your head to gently coax you forward.

His lips are cold.

Yet so, very soft. You close your eyes, tilting your head ever so slightly. He can surely feel your small smile by now.

After a moment, he leans back, only to kiss your forehead tenderly.

You bite your lip, trying to calm your heart.

"I eagerly await the next few days," the Mayor mumbles, white eyes half-lidded as they fix on you, inspecting your features fondly. The hand behind your head goes to brush your cheek, touch feather-light. "We don't have to play chess."

God, you love him.

Struggling against a laugh, you meet his warm gaze. "You'd better hope not."

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

A quick lumity proposal fic! It’s been rotating in my brain ever since I was caught in a deluge of adorable art of them on Valentine’s Day

Long as Luz had known him, Hooty had always toed a very fine line between being sweet and creepy. This time, Luz wanted very, very badly to think he was being sweet— but she couldn’t deny she was more than a little unsettled.

When she’d asked him to re-create the Tunnel of Love, she’d been prepared to offer photos from her old phone as a reference, or even to draw it for him. But he had brushed her off, barring the door to the basement and assuring her it would be perfect, despite her protests. 

The thing was: it was. Hooty had recreated the Tunnel down to the last detail from memory. The same flowers and insects lined the walls. The same animatronics waved the same banners. Either he had a very good recollection or he’d swallowed everything in the basement waiting to regurgitate it for this moment.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Amity. “I thought this would be romantic, but it’s actually kind of horrifying?”

Amity giggled. “No, no, I love it. I’m glad I get to see it in its full glory without you trying to set it all on fire.”

Luz groaned good-naturedly. “Let it never be said that I was not the height of class.”

An array of Hooty cherubs launched a volley of arrows from the ceiling, the scrolls attached to the arrows reading legends like Amity- U R a Q-T! Luz felt a brief pang of regret that she hadn’t thought to write the question on one of the scrolls. But then, that was another idea that walked too fine a line between cute and disturbing. 

The Hooty swan came to a stop at the end of the Tunnel, where a table lit with candles stood at the end of the dock. Amity let go of Luz’s hand to clasp hers together joyfully. “I can’t believe you did all this!” 

“Hooty was a big help.” Luz leapt out of the boat and helped Amity down, escorting her to the table. It bore an array of human and Boiling Isles delicacies that Raine and Camila had been hard at work on all day: griffin egg skillets, baked sweet potatoes, and fairy pies (minus the live ingredients). Amity sat down with a flourish and the two began piling food onto their plates, Amity squinting at the potatoes.

“Isn’t this, like, cannibalism?”

Luz laughed, taking an enormous bite. “In this instance, my taste buds win over my morality.”

Amity laughed, too, and eagerly dug in. The food was delicious— but Luz began to feel like she’d swallowed a transport worm along with her first few bites, the thing furling and unfurling and wiggling through her stomach. But then, Amity didn’t seem totally at ease, either. She ate rapidly, but the pallor of her skin suggested it was less about the food and more about having something to do with her hands.

When her plate was clear— which took about three minutes— she sat back and kept her eyes on her plate. “So. Was there… any reason you went through all this trouble?”

That was a perfect opening, and Luz had a feeling Amity had done it on purpose. She opened her mouth to begin her speech, the one she’d rehearsed in her head and in the mirror and to Vee and Hunter until she was sure it was perfect. But she took one breath, and then another, and couldn’t do it. That worm had crawled up into her throat and nested there, and no words were getting out. 

“I got a deal on my book!”

At least, not the right ones.

Amity looked up, her face slumping for a split second before a smile took it over. “What?! Luz!”

“Yeah!” Her excitement was contagious, and Luz felt herself smiling, too, the worm making its way back down to her intestines where it belonged. “With this huge publishing company in the human realm, and with a publisher in the demon realm who’s not going to turn me into a tiny cube if I don’t meet my deadline for the sequel!”

Amity clapped her hands, her smile growing even bigger. That had been a particular worry for both of them when Luz had started submitting query letters. “The human realm and the demon realm! You’re going to be the next Mildred Featherwhyle!”

“I know!” Luz bounced a couple of times in her chair, then took another, steadying breath. She had meant to share the news with Amity tonight— but it wasn’t the point of the evening, wasn’t the most important thing she had to say. She tried to get back on track.

“If it does well, it means I’ll be able to get my own place— maybe two small places, one in Gravesfield and one on the Isles. And… and that got me thinking…” suddenly she was gasping for air. Come on, Luz! Get it together! She loves you, she’s not going to reject you, you just need to say it—

“Will you marry me?” Amity blurted.

Luz let out all her air in a single gasp, and the two stared at each other across the table. A faint blush painted Amity’s cheeks, but she didn’t look away. 

Luz started to laugh, and she reached into her pocket to reveal a ring, a shining opal woven in vines of gold. “Oh, no, I was so ready.”

Amity’s eyes widened, filling with tears as soon as she caught sight of the ring— but at the familiar words, she started to laugh, too. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You can say it.”

“Okay.” Luz took one final, deep breath and crossed to Amity’s side of the table, bending to one knee in front of her, the last part of the speech she’d planned finally sliding easily from her mouth. “Our lives are so crazy, and we can never say for sure what the future holds. But I can’t imagine my future without you in it. Amity Blight, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Amity shrieked, throwing herself into Luz’s arms with so much force that they both toppled backwards, skidding to the end of the dock. Realizing how close they were to the water, they scrambled backwards, then slumped against each other, limbs tangled together. 

Smiling so hard her cheeks were aching, Luz slid the ring onto Amity’s finger. Amity ran her finger over it, and Luz looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks. She blinked, and her own eyes welled.

Amity lifted her hands and placed them on either side of Luz’s face, pulling her in for a kiss, and Luz brought one of her hands on top of Amity’s, warmth rushing through her at the feeling of the ring on her finger as she pulled Amity closer, that warmth filling every piece of her until they broke apart.

“Crikey,” they said at the same time, then burst into laughter.

[twiggyart6]

collecting short funny things to write under fanart of characters you really love

please feel free to add more thank you :3

(this is long as shit be prepared)

ough

looking at them

my friend :)

mwehehe

augh

I can't believe this

brain blasted

what a little freak

do you even care

be so fucking for real

your kidding

what a weirdo

a wonderous creature

consider this

from my personal collection

what the

I'm so normal

I'm not normal

why are they like that

evil swag

TEEHEE

I'm gonna frow up

yeah this is pretty cool

pretty fucked up dog

have you seen this?

my beautiful princess

I'm ill

oh good heavens!

my son. he has every disease

this shit aint nothin to me man

I laurve them

yoink

just a little bit. as a treat

tell them to stop

me when I GET you

MY GUY

the psychic worm (wohwohwohwohw)

good lord

cuteness aggression towards them

what the fuck ever

im feeling something

sigh

me when the

GRRAAAHH

im fucking serious

love it when they appear

its becoming unhealthy

go white boy go!

your never gonna believe this

worst guy ive ever seen

their just so ... drawable

sorry guys

i saw it in a dream

she is very gorgeous to me!

i see them when i close my eyes

my little scrungle

be so fucking for real

i can do whatever i want

bitch

yeah

my baby girl

my little kitty meow meow

they've done something to me

i gotta get outa here

yep

my favorite white man

dude!?

full of joy a whimsy

going cray cray!

well....

erm

heyy gurl wasup

she is beuty she is grace

aaaaanything could happen

just like me fr

its time

yahoo!

divine retribution

yay!!

so was foretold in the prophecy

their so ... woah

yessir

god. fucking. damn.

they understand me

you are not immune to propaganda

Explodes character with mind

Forgive me

I would tell them my most depraved thoughts

for the win!

my treasure my beloved

awesome

oh yeah woo yeah

thats it thats the post

this above all else

-INHALE-

had to get it out of my system

you absolute baby buffoon

but make it epic

dont question it

gay baby jail

mwah <3

i want to make them into bread

no guys you don't get it

i got nervous

every fuckin time man

[puts face in hands and groans loudly]

no way

DONT DO THIS TO MEEEEE

take a deep breath

stupid little bow wow

cringeposting once again

abandon society, embrace insanity

god has let me draw another day

had to do it

changed my brain chemistry

so the thing is-

im going to make you so girlfail

pathetic wet cat

guys.

their neat idk

or something like that

ATTENTION!!

i have the disease and its terminal

shrimply amazing!

hits you with the beam

smile :)

send help

oh hi didn't see you there

no i will not elaborate

the creature is demonic in nature

i think there's something wrong with them

i think there's something wrong with me

its fine

woah woah woah

do you even realize what you've done

very cool

do you see my vision

whatever the fuck this is called

the strugler

interesting..

oh i got you dont worry

nobody move

character on the brain always and forever

#1 hater

funny you should say that

nature is healing

imagine a guy. now imagine them again

ooo mama

get drawn idiot

get obsessed over idiot

if only they were real

post this character instantly

your honor i need them

ive got some notes

A juicy morsel

I want to push them down the stairs

They wouldn’t dare

(Eyes wide and mouth frothing) yeah!

my beautiful wife <3

[im-not-that-creative-guys]

Back on my bullshit with a new brain worm story idea!! Let's go bitch, I haven't slept in 20 hours so let's try to make this make sense.

During the sunshot campaign WY is almost enough to win the war, but not quite. The Wens are slowly winning, and the alliance is running out of time. In desperation(and lack of sleep) WY brings up a ritual he found in the burial mounds. A ritual to summon a demon.

After the sect leaders talk themselves in circles, WY gets the ritual together and pays that this works. It does but instead of a low level demon they can send after WRN, WY did his job too well and they instead get Luo Binghe. They get the demon emperor.

LBH is not amused to be taken from his husband, and wants little to do with the war. When asked what they could do to convince/bribe/bargain with him to help, LBH asked them to bring him the best and worst people the cultivation world can show him to look into their minds(Dream demon stuff, IDK). They pick LZ and WY to because of course they do, best cultivator and demonic cultivator must be the worst after all.

After looking into their minds, LBH is stunned and horrified over what they've been though, especially WY(because WTF) do to him giving up his golden core. He then makes a deal, given that they're good people and that the world is in genuine danger from the mess, he makes them a deal.

Send him back to where he came and summon him again in a week, the next time he will bring those that canstop a war with him. He gathers up SQQ, MBJ, SQH(Logistics is useful), and LQG together and explains the plan.(What plan? IDK, im not a writer)

Somewhere during this mess, LBH and SQQ help get WY and LZ together, and see about getting WY a new golden core. (I read a fic where there was this special peach that can give you a new core if you eat it's pit. I can't find it, but I will credit the author as soon as I do.)

They stop the Wens and something something happy endings for all but JWS and SS, because I said so. The end.

If you want any more info or something for this send me a message and I'll answer. This was mostly just so the worm will stop yelling at me.

[haidyn-reeves]

The Thought of Losing You

Summary: This is my spin on 14.02 (Gods and Monsters) and 14.11 (Damaged Goods). 

Prompt: “The thought of losing you scares the shit out of me.”

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Warnings: Season 14 spoilers. Lots of profanity, lots of angst, dollop of fluff.

Word Count: 5,315

A/N: This is my entry for Sabrina @winchesterxfamilybusiness​‘s 250 Followers Writing Challenge! This was my first time writing for Supernatural and ever posting anything I’ve ever written. I hope you like it!

Y/N knew she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Dean Winchester, but her brain and her heart weren’t exactly on the same page.

There were only so many times she could watch the man she loved and idolized sacrifice himself as if his own life was meaningless. Every time she lost Dean, the pain became more and more unbearable. She grew up alongside the Winchesters, her grandfather being one of the men John Winchester learned his tricks and skills from when he was younger. His dying wish was for John to protect her, and when he passed years later, that duty was passed down to Sam and Dean. The pair didn’t mind, she was family to them. Sam liked being a big brother to someone for a change, and Dean welcomed the days when she would spend time with them so he had someone other than Sam to hang out with. 

It was safe to say Y/N had been there through everything. She was there when Sam died and when Dean made the crossroads deal. She was there when the hellhounds dragged him to hell and when he made his miraculous return months later. She watched the Mark of Cain change him in ways she never imagined, and then hid from his demon alter-ego when he tried to kill her and Sam in the bunker. 

The point is, she was there for every high and low, and she wasn’t sure she had the capacity to handle another low.

In the most cliche turn of events, Y/N developed feelings for the older brother over time. How could she not? He looked after her more than her own father the majority of the time. She idolized him from a young age, thought he was so cool, felt the most at ease around him. Dean was always there and Y/N had no choice but to fall for him, and hard. Of course, in another cliche fashion, she couldn’t dare tell him. He was her best friend and he certainly could do better than what she had to offer. 

The most recent predicament was Michael, the Archangel from another universe who wormed his way into their world with Lucifer. Selfishly, Y/N was relieved when their world’s Michael stopped trying to convince Dean to be his vessel and the angels stopped pursuing him, though she felt bad for Adam. She never imagined she’d find herself in this situation: Dean, saying yes to this new Michael, in order to save his brother and Jack from Lucifer.

Dean dismissed her when he sent Bobby and Mary to the garage. She begged him to let her stay, to let her help, and of course not to do anything stupid, but Bobby pulled her away as soon as Dean’s jaw clenched and that look crossed his handsome face. Usually she could win, that look would fade and he’d be putty in her hands. In that moment, she was scared of him, because the look resembled the murderous glare his demon self threw her way seconds before narrowly missing her with that forsaken hammer.

When Sam and Jack returned to the bunker without Dean, Y/N’s heart stopped and her breath hitched in her chest, a clockwork reaction any time something terrible happened to him. 

“N-no,” she whimpered, looking at Sam through blurry eyes as the tears threatened to fall.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, finding it hard to watch her break over his brother yet again. “Michael…he tricked him and…”

“He disappeared,” Jack sighed. The room began to spin as the dizziness washed over Y/N. She fumbled in place, clutching the back of the chair in front of her at the war table, Sam rushing to her side and gathering her into his arms. 

“We’re gonna find him honey,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure himself or her. He squeezed her tighter as she sobbed into his flannel, wishing he could do more. He wasn’t Dean, he didn’t have the same connection with her as his brother did, and he hated that there was nothing more he could do for her. 

That was almost two months ago.

Over the last nearly eight weeks, Y/N battled between wanting to go out and look for Dean and succumbing to the intense sadness and anxiety over the loss of the older Winchester. She knew she should be out there looking for him, helping Sam, Mary and Bobby. She wasn’t sleeping, and when she did she was plagued with dreams of Michael torturing Dean, because that was all she could think about during the day. She snapped at Jack when she overhead him talking to Castiel in the kitchen during one of the few times she left her room for food. As soon as she heard the words “Dean doesn’t matter” leave the nephilim’s lips, she was at his throat.

“How dare you,” she began, her voice low and shaking as the anger pulsated through her veins. “How dare you say that, considering you wouldn’t fucking be here if not for Dean. He’s done nothing but protect you and give you a home, and you go and say he doesn’t matter? That is his body. He is a prisoner in his own body. He’s trapped in there-“

“Y/N-“ Castiel started. Y/N whipped her head around, glowering at the vessel before her.

“NO, Cas. What he said was un-fucking-called for.” She turned back to the nephilim, disappointment and anger evident on her face. “Look, kid. The world would not be the way it is right now if not for Dean fucking Winchester. He may not matter to you, but he sure as hell matters to me.”

Since then, Jack kept his distance. He never saw Y/N as upset as she was in that moment, and he still didn’t understand why she was so mad at him, because in his mind, he was right. Michael was the enemy, Michael needed to go, Dean be damned.

Sam was growing more and more concerned for Y/N as time went on without any sign of Dean. He knew she wasn’t sleeping, having been the one to wake her from her nightmares and stay with her until she drifted back into a restless sleep, if her mind even allowed it.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” she mumbled one morning when Sam brought her a mug of tea. “I know you want to be out looking for him.”

“I’m leaving in a little bit, do you want to try and come with me?” She shook her head, her eyes again welling up with tears. How she had any left was beyond her. “Its okay, honey. You should try and rest anyway. You’ve had a rough few weeks-“

“But I’m a hunter, Sam. I know better than to act like this. I should be out there looking for him, he’d do the same if it was me-“

“You may be a hunter, but that doesn’t mean you’re not human, Y/N/N. You still have feelings, emotions, and we both know you have very…specific feelings towards Dean. This wasn’t a hunt gone wrong, Dean is missing and you’re hurting because you love him. What you’re feeling, what you’ve been feeling, that’s heartbreak. It’s crippling and it’s brutal and until he’s back, it’s not gonna go away.”

“What if he doesn’t come back Sam?” She hated how small her voice sounded, she couldn’t even deny her feelings to his face. At this rate, every additional body in the bunker had to know she was in love with Dean.

“He’s Dean. He’s died, been dragged to hell…he’s not gonna let some dick angel keep him away from us.” Y/N nodded weakly. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Sam-“

“You have to tell him, Y/N. He has a right to know, he needs to know, maybe then he’d stop sacrificing himself-“

“Your brother wouldn’t know what to do with himself-“

“True, but he’d be happy, with you. He adores you. He deserves to be happy.” Y/N tilted her head to the side, eyebrows cocked. “You know I’m right.”

“We’ll see.”

Sam sighed, pecking her forehead before getting off the bed. “I’m gonna head out, you need anything, you call, yes?” She nodded. “Be good, no yelling at any nephilims today.”

“He deserved it-“

“I know.”

One of the things Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to was the amount of people now residing in the bunker since coming from the other world. She missed the peace and quiet, but she was extra thankful that her bedroom, like Dean’s, was tucked away from the action. Sure, the bunker was large enough to accommodate the newcomers, and they were all quickly catching on as new hunters, but she longed for the days when the bunker was more of a secret hideaway, not a community center.

In the time Dean was gone, Y/N treated his room like the West Wing. She made sure no one besides herself or Sam ever went in, on the days she got out of bed anyway. Her room was down the hall from his, and since the hallway was generally empty, she could immediately hear when someone was entering his room. The door had a slight creak when it pushed open slowly enough, but Dean insisted he liked it. It sounded “homey.” So when she heard that familiar creak and knew Sam wasn’t home yet, her body was out of her bed and moving down the hall before her mind could register she was even upright. Her feet carried her to the door with the pretty golden eleven, finding it open. She felt her blood run cold as she stepped over the threshold of the room, ready to deliver a verbal beating to whoever dared enter this room of all rooms, before her breath hitched in her chest and she found herself staring at the back of the man she was waiting for.

“D-Dean?”

His shoulders visibly relaxed at the sound of her voice and he turned around, his olive eyes welling up with tears as he took in the sight of her. She was clutching the doorway, her body swimming in his red flannel, dark circles under her pretty eyes as she choked out a sob upon seeing him before her.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered, opening his arms as she flung herself forward, crashing against his chest. Her body again shook with sobs as she clutched at the white dress shirt adorning his shoulders, her face buried into the middle of his chest. His arms wrapped around her as he struggled between squeezing her against him and holding her fragile body against his own. Her sobs were muffled screams and he cringed, hating that once again he was the reason she was breaking this badly. He finally allowed his tears to flow and soon he was crying into her hair while trying to calm her down.

“You miss me?” He asked some moments later once her breathing returned to normal and her body stopped shaking.

“No,” she weakly deadpanned, still morphed into his chest. His fingers danced up and down her spine in gentle patterns as he chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know, he just…left.”

“He better fucking stay gone,” she growled, “or at least find a new vessel. Got a few ideas.” Dean laughed softly and she pulled back to look up at him, raising her eyebrows. “You think I’m joking?”

“No ma’am.” 

She glared at the term, her eyes growing wide. “Why didn’t Sam call me to tell me he found you?”

“Surprise?” He grinned sheepishly. “He said you were probably resting and didn’t want to wake you. He…he told me how you’ve been the last few weeks and sweetheart, I’m not upset. I’m upset at how much of a toll this took on you but I’m not upset that you weren’t looking for me.”

“I’m sorry Dean, I wanted to-“

“I know, Y/N. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I understand. You were struggling, I couldn’t expect you to push yourself.”

She looked down, still feeling embarrassed over the situation. “I’m sorry for barging in, too. I thought someone was in here that wasn’t you and I got so upset-“

“It’s okay,” he smiled, “I half expected you to be in here waiting for me.”

She blushed and Dean grinned, hugging her to him again. “You probably want some alone time, I should let you get settled in but I really don’t feel like leaving your side at the moment.”

“I’m gonna take a quick shower and I’ll be right back, okay? Promise.” His green eyes were boring into her own, his words serious as the rolled off his tongue. She nodded and he smiled gently, kissing her head again before grabbing his clothes and heading down the hall towards the large communal bathroom.

While Y/N waited, Dean let the hot water run down his tired body, scrubbing his skin raw as he tried to get any trace of the Archangel off of him. He didn’t understand why Michael suddenly left the way he did, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up that he had seen the last of the celestial being. He stood under the water as his own tears of frustration fell from his eyes. He was angry that he was taken advantage of, tricked into being the vessel for more than he bargained for. He hated feeling like a prisoner in his own body, own mind, not knowing exactly what was going on around him as Michael took control. He missed his brother, his girl, even if she wasn’t officially his. Y/N was everything to him, and after some convincing on his part, Sam revealed that he was everything to her as well. It happened on the drive home when he realized she wasn’t with Sam, and he immediately panicked thinking something had happened to her.

“She’s at the bunker, Dean. She…she hasn’t been doing well.”

“What’s wrong with her?” He breathed, his body going rigged on the passenger’s side of the bench seat.

“She’s just been taking your…disappearance the hardest out of everyone. She doesn’t sleep, she barely eats, she bit Jack’s head off.”

“What did he do?” Sam didn’t want to repeat the words Jack had uttered, because in truth, they pissed him off as well. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words and cause Dean more hurt, he carried enough pain already.

“He said something she didn’t like, honestly he deserved it. She was defending you.” Dean blushed softly, picturing Y/N turning into the spitfire she could be, all because of him. “You know Dean…”

Dean looked at his brother, confused, “Sammy?”

“I shouldn’t,” Sam stopped himself, knowing he was about to break Y/N’s trust.

“You already started.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to Y/N.”

“I won’t say anything, just tell me.”

“She…the reason she was so bad the last few weeks, is because she loves you. Has feelings for you. And you being gone, not knowing where you were, it visibly was destroying her.”

Dean’s eyes widened and his heartbeat sped up in his chest. “She can’t-“

“Why not? Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you, man? She looks at you like you hung the damn moon for her.”

Dean shook his head. “Loving me comes with a price, one she shouldn’t have to pay. It puts a target on her back and she doesn’t deserve that.”

“Dean, it’s pretty obvious you feel the same way she does, you’re being ridiculous. She makes you happy, man. You deserve something good, and Y/N is good.”

Dean wasn’t going to act on this new information, not until he knew Michael was done with him, for good. He couldn’t stomach Y/N hurting over him anymore. Once he knew Michael didn’t have a use for him any longer, he could approach her about the mutual feelings between them. Of course Dean reciprocated them. How could he not? Y/N was beautiful, funny, intelligent. She was everything he could hope for, plopped into his life all those years ago. He raised her to be the third best hunter in the world. She was perfect for him, but he couldn’t put her in danger by simply loving her back.

For a little while, things seemed to be looking up, which was consequently never a good sign when it came to the Winchesters. Just when they thought Michael was possibly out of their lives, he snuck back in and invaded Dean’s personal space all over again. With help from Sam, Y/N and Cas, he was able to take control and lock Michael away in his mind. The problem was, Dean felt like there was a toddler banging on a drum set living in his head. Michael was constantly making a racket, leaving Dean with a perpetual headache while he tried to block out Michael’s incessant demands to be let out of the “cage” Dean locked him away in. It was during this time that Dean made the painful decision to never act on his feelings for Y/N. He wasn’t sure how long he’d survive with Michael taking up residency in his mind, nor did he have any way of knowing that Michael wouldn’t hurt her. 

Sam and Y/N became suspicious when Dean decided he wanted to visit Mary, alone. Since being back, Dean rarely had alone time, though if he was being honest, he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he welcomed the company. Company kept his mind off the tenant upstairs. He spent most of his time resting before Sam decided he could go back out on hunts, and resting usually meant cuddling with Y/N and watching copious amount of Netflix. He was struggling, but he wanted to make sure she was okay as well.

Y/N was reluctant to let Dean go visit Mary alone. When she expressed her concerns for the older Winchester to Sam, Sam agreed that something wasn’t right and the pair decided to make their own drive to Donna’s cabin. 

Which is how Sam and Y/N found themselves standing across from Dean in Donna’s shed, an ominous metal coffin of sorts on the workbench before them.

“What the hell is this?” Y/N asked, her eyes fixed on Dean.

“This is how I’m going to get rid of Michael,” Dean explained, failing to make eye contact in return.

“This isn’t what I think it is,” Sam glowered, beginning to understand what his brother was getting at.

“Someone better explain what the hell this is,” Y/N urged, agitated.

“This is a Ma’lak Box,” Dean began, Sam sighing in anger. “It’s warded to keep an angel inside…including an Archangel.”

“Okay…so how are you gonna get Michael into the box?” Y/N asked, oblivious to the elephant that was in the shed.

“Michael is…inside me. In order to get Michael into the box, I have to get in,” Dean muttered.

“NO!”

“Its the only way-“ 

“BULLSHIT. There is ALWAYS another way!”

“NO THERE ISN’T,” Dean yelled back, “I can feel him breaking free. I can’t hold him much longer, this is the only way, Billie showed me-“

“Dean, we can figure this out. There has to be something else,” Sam tried to reason with his brother. “What happens when you’re in?”

“The plan is to be dropped into the Pacific and buried-“

“The fuck you will,” Y/N seethed. “NO. You’re not doing this.”

“This is why I didn’t tell either of you, you’re the only ones who could try and talk me out of it.”

“So you were just going to disappear again? Be buried alive without a goodbye? Expect us to be okay with this?” Sam was amazed at how dense Dean could be sometimes.

“I said my goodbyes back at the bunker,” Dean sighed. Y/N was staring at him in horror, still trying to process that once again, she’d be losing Dean, but this time for good. Dean looked at her and cringed. “Please say something.”

“You stupid son of a bitch,” she fumed. “You’re so hellbent on sacrificing your own life for the greater fucking good because you’re convinced your life doesn’t mean anything. Well guess what! Your life may not mean something to you but it means everything to me. You don’t have to do this, we can find another way. Fuck what Billie has to say, there is no way this ends with you buried at the bottom of the fucking ocean.”

“I have to do this-“

“No, you don’t,” Sam argued. “We can find something else Dean, anything else, something that keeps you alive, with us.”

“Do you think I want to do this? To either of you? I HAVE to do this. I don’t have a choice-“

“YOU ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE. YOU TAUGHT ME THAT,” Y/N screamed, the anger simmering under her skin.

“Look, I’m not exactly looking forward to this, okay? I’ve made up my mind, you both need to accept it.”

“We…we have to accept it? Accept that you’re going to be buried in this…this box…with a murderous archangel hitching a ride in your head? Are you out of your mind?” Y/N was amazed at how Dean was so calm about this. “You expect Sam to just let you go? I clearly don’t mean enough to you for you NOT to do this but at least think of your brother.”

“You know that’s not true,” Dean groaned.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she spat, rolling her eyes.

“This won’t solve anything,” Sam barked, shooting a glare to both of them. “You’re not getting in the box, we’ll figure something else out but right now, this discussion is over.”

“You think this is up for debate, Sammy? It’s not-“

“I said, this discussion is over. We will have this conversation when we get home, when we can get Jack and Cas’ input-“

“Oh yeah, let’s clue the nephilim in to the plan,” Y/N snarled, “after all, Dean matters oh so much to him anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Dean glared.

“Forget it,” she mumbled, “I need some air.” She turned on her heel and left the shed, the sight of the box now making her stomach turn. She made her way back to the cabin, hiding around the back out of sight before she allowed herself to slide down the wall into a fit of angry tears. Dean was going to leave her, again, and this time he couldn’t come back. How was she ever going to live with that? Knowing he was at the bottom of the ocean, alone in a box with an Archangel to torment him for the rest of his days? How could she possibly move on from that?

Back in the shed, Sam was pacing. “You’re not doing this,” he decided, pausing his movements to look at his brother. “You can’t do this. Not to me, not to her, not to Mom-“

“I’m doing it to protect you, all of you,” Dean argued. “If I lock Michael away, he can’t hurt any of you or cause more damage to anyone else.”

“This will kill her,” Sam warned, his voice quieter now. “Dean, you can’t-“

“This is what’s best. This is my decision and I’m sticking to it.”

Y/N decided against the wall of Donna’s cabin that she was done. She reached the end of her rope, her patience run bone dry. If Dean wasn’t going to listen to any voices of reason, she was going to make damn sure she would be okay. She could ask Rowena for a spell, something to make her forget she ever loved Dean Winchester. She refused to be a broken shell all over again because he left her, this time willingly. She would take care of herself the way he taught her to.

She emerged from behind the cabin to find the brothers walking out of the shed, Sam looking visibly distraught as he watched Dean head towards the cabin. Dean’s gaze fell on her but she refused to meet his eyes. If she was going to take care of herself, step one was creating distance, putting an end to the bond between them. Dean moved to walk towards her and she stepped back, eyes still on anything but him.  He stopped in his tracks, shoulders falling before he straightened up again, refusing to show any weakness over his decision.

The ride back to the bunker was silent. Y/N wasn’t speaking to either brother, but if she had to, she spoke to Sam. Dean was trying to ignore how hurt he was, but he had to remind himself that this was for the best. He thought she could understand that.

A few days went by and Y/N was avoiding Dean as much as humanly possible. When Sam received word of Donatello, she decided to hang back and make sure the new hunters had a leader while the brothers were out taking care of business. Sam didn’t argue with her, knowing she needed her space from his brother.

When they arrived back in the safety of the bunker, days later, Y/N retreated to her room, going through her things and removing anything of Dean’s from her drawers. She wanted to do it when they first got back from the cabin retreat, but her body physically wouldn’t let her, not yet. Any flannels, shirts, anything she ever wore of his was going back to his room. She didn’t want anything of his around to remind her of him later. She carried the few shirts to his room, barging in and dumping them on his bed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, staring at the pile before him.

“Don’t want them anymore. They’ll just remind me of you when you’re gone, you know, buried and all.”

Dean winced at her words. Reality was starting to sink in, that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea, not if it meant a rift between him and his best girl. “Y/N please, we need to talk about this-“

“I think you’ve said enough.”

“I can’t have you hating me, sweetheart. I can’t lose you, not yet. The thought of losing you scares the shit out of me-“

“Don’t you dare fucking say that to me,” she whispered, sounding much less menacing than she wanted to. “Not when I’m the one constantly losing you.” Dean felt his heart break in his chest as he looked at her, seeing all the pain he’d caused her evident on her pretty face. “And I should be used to it by now, but I’m not.” She looked down at the floor, staring at the marbled tile beneath her feet. “Maybe this is my fault-“

“Y/N no, how-“

“Maybe if I told you the truth you’d change your mind. Told you I loved you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone, maybe then you’d want to stay and find another way.”

“I know,” he breathed. “I know you do.”

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him, her cheeks flushing. “You what?”

“I know how you feel about me,” he murmured. “Sam…I forced it out of him when we drove home after he found me. He was so worried about you and he started to let it slip but I forced him to tell me.”

“So…so you know…that…and you still want to…” her voice trailed off, her words failing her as she stared helplessly at him. 

“I was doing it because of that.” He watched her cringe before he realized his mistake. “Oh God, not like that! I mean, I was doing it because I love you, just as much, but I need to protect you from Michael. I told myself I wouldn’t do anything about this…us…until he was gone, but I don’t know when that will be or if it ever will be. I can’t let you get hurt because of me, not like this. I can’t put that target on you.”

“Dean…I know you think it’s your life’s mission to protect everyone, because John gave you that order to protect Sam, but sacrificing yourself? He’d also want you to live, Dean. You deserve everything good this fucked up world has to offer, Dean Winchester. You think your life means so much less than anyone else’s but that’s not true. You’re so important, Dean. Sam and I wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve saved so many lives, changed so many lives. You think you’re this monster of a man who doesn’t deserve happiness when that’s all you’ve ever deserved. You’ve spent your entire life caring for everyone else and making sure everyone else was okay, but right now, you’re not okay, and you need to let me and Sam take care of you. Let us help you find another way, please Dean.” By now tears were rolling down her cheeks the same way they were rolling down Dean’s. “I have watched you overcome and survive incredible feats. I’ve admired your courage and your strength for as long as I can remember. Please don’t stop fighting now, not yet. You have so much more left to do in this world, Dean. Some dick angel from another world is not going to be how I lose you. The world is better with you in it, MY world is better with you in it.”

Dean’s silent tears turned to choked out sobs as he took in her words. This wasn’t the first time she had to remind him of the good in him, and he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. Sam had already gotten to him before they drove home and made him see that there could be another way, that he couldn’t give up, that wasn’t what the Winchesters did. 

“Oh Dean,” she whispered, enveloping him in her arms as he cried, his face buried against her shoulder. She rubbed his back softly as she cried with him, his arms wrapping around her tightly, scared of letting her go.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry you’re constantly getting hurt by me-“

“No. It is not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m not doing it,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “Sammy…he helped me see how wrong I was…and you…I can’t leave you. Not like that. I love you so much, sweetheart, I’m so sorry for putting you through that-“

“Dean Winchester, if you ever try to pull something like that again…”

“I know,” he nodded. “I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“How?” She asked, Dean lifting his head from her shoulder.

“I don’t know, but I’ll spend the rest of my life figuring it out.”

Y/N blushed, fighting the grin that was spreading across her lips. “You could start with a kiss.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” he chuckled, cupping her cheeks in his hand and wiping the remaining tear drops away with his thumbs. He looked into her eyes, watching the way they sparkled as they stared back into his own. He smiled, leaning down to softly connect his lips with hers. She all but cried as she moved her lips with his, her arms wrapping back around his middle.

“Sammy was right,” he chuckled once he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

“About what?”

Dean smirked, “You really do look at me like I hung the moon.”

“Oh bite me, Winchester.”

[bbyx]

ripple effect - part three

Summary: During her fourth year at Hogwarts, (y/n) Deauxville falls for none other than Cedric Diggory. But it's not easy when you have to deal with protecting your family's fortune, keeping your father's illness a secret and having two of your closest friends catch feelings for you.

Pairings : reader x cedric, reader x draco, reader x harry

With help from some of the Ministry's interns, your tent was finally up. It was lilac purple with a beautiful satin finish. Walking inside always took your breath away just because of the sheer size of the tent. It smelt brand new and didn't have that homey feeling like the Weasley's tent but it would do for a couple nights.

(y/n) plops down on the bed. She opens up and rereads the letter that Minister Fudge had sent her father two months ago. You had started reading your dad's mail and answering for him since he was no longer capable of doing it himself. Your father had a very formal way of writing so it had been easy enough to imitate his handwriting to answer the Minister's letter.

You open the creamy beige envelope and pull out a sturdy white letter with gold embellishments. It reads:

Dear (f/n),                                                                                                                  I hope this letter is finding you in good health. I've heard that you have recently been traveling Europe in search of new properties. Barty and myself were wondering if you would be so kind as to join us for a meeting during the Quidditch World cup. The time is nearing and we must finalize the deal.  Looking forward to seeing you,                                                                                                                                Cornelius

You tried remembering what you wrote in the answering letter. It went something like this.

Dear Cornelius,                                                                                                         I am currently in Romania for business and I unfortunately will not be back in time for the Quidditch World Cup. However i've left my daughter (y/n) in charge of my business affairs while I am away and she would be delighted to join you. Barty and yourself can finalize the deal with her.  Wishing you the best,                                                                                                                                             (f/n)

Your father had started a real estate company when he was twenty four and it had grown into one of the most successful businesses in the wizarding world and in Britain. You assumed that the Minister and Barty Crouch wanted to buy a property but you didn't know anything further. It was a very secretive affair and you had searched your father's files extensively but there was no mention of this mysterious deal anywhere. You were essentially going in blind.

The meeting was going to be over dinner in the Minister's box during the Quidditch Match. (y/n) had time to kill so she walked back to the Weasley's tent.

You arrive just in time to see the Weasley twins and Ludo Bagman betting on the games.

"Personally I have to agree with Mr.Bagman, my money is on Bulgaria winning" You tease and the twins shake their ginger heads.

You hear sirens that signal the stadium has opened. You head over with your friends. The inside of the Quidditch stadium is just as breathtakingly festive as the outside. Red and green coats everything, it is filled with headshots of various Quidditch players and drunken voices singing national anthems.

"Blimey how far up are we dad!" Rom complains.

"Well, put it this way, if it rains you'll be the first to know." You turn towards the familiar cold posh voice. Lucius Malfoy.

You had grown up with the Malfoy's and practically spent half your childhood at their house. Narcissa has become a second mother to you after your own mother's death. (y/n) had her suspicions that her parents and the Malfoy's were hoping their children would get married but (y/n) cringed at the idea. It wasn't that you didn't like Draco but your relationship was more like cousins. He was like that one favourite cousin everyone has that makes all family gatherings fun. But you couldn't stand the snobby facade Draco put on whenever he was around other people. Like now.

"Father and I are in the minister's box. A personal invitation from Cornelius Fudge himself."

"Don't boast, Draco" Lucius says while nudging him with his cane. " There is no need with these people."

You rolled your eyes so hard it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

"Ah miss Deauxville, I believe you'll be joining us in the Minister' box." Lucius says in a respectful tone.

You hated how he talked to your friends like they were lower than you. Lucius nudges Draco with his cane and Draco immediately offers you his arm. You look back at the trio and mouth help me as you take Draco's arm.

"Have fun" Hermione says sarcastically.

The Minister's box is filled with house elves carrying trays of little delicacies and wizards and witches dressed in overly formal clothing. You immediately felt underdressed in your sweater and tennis skirt. But to your delight you could see the sweat glistening off their skin, after all it was still mid August.

A curly haired blonde woman in a ridiculously tight plum dress and green glasses walks over to Mr. Malfoy.

" Ah Lucius, darling, I see Draco has brought his little girlfriend along." She sneers at you, clearly not recognizing you. However you knew exactly who this was, Rita Skeeter, a slimy idiotic gossip columnist with worms for a brain.           " Hope she enjoys this once in a lifetime opportunity to dine with such fine people."

You feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Miss Deauxville, so glad you could make it. The Minister would like to talk in his private room."

Rita Skeeter's face blanched when she realised you were a Deauxville and you follow Barty Crouch through a curtain into a smaller room with a round table and a huge window.

Seated at the table was Minister Fudge, you took a seat just as the team mascots stepped out on the field. The beautiful Bulgarian veelas danced on the field while the Irish leprechauns bounded with their gold, this angered the veelas who in turn transformed into demon-like bird creatures. The teams stepped out on the field, national anthems were played and the snitch was released.

"Well let's get this over with quickly so we have a chance to enjoy the game" You say.

Cornelius Fudge starts.

"Yes, yes well as I'm sure your father mentioned, the Ministry would like to lease a property for a couple months."

Just then Percy walks in holding a stack of papers.

"Here are the papers you asked for Mr.Crouch." He says importantly.

"Ah thank you Weatherby. You may go now."

You almost choke trying to stifle your laugh, earning a glare from Percy as he leaves. Mr Crouch hands you a stack of papers.

" The contract." He simply states. You're too distracted to notice the house elves bring the meal to the table.

You take your time to look it over for any loopholes. Normally your father would have his team of lawyers draw up his own contracts but this would do.

"You want to lease lot number 637? The two acres in the Black Forest, next to Hogwarts? You're sure?"

"Yes" The Minister replied looking uncomfortable.

"There are a few modifications we would like to do to this property." Barty Crouch cuts in.

"What kind of modifications?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well first we would like to cut most of the trees off"

You squawk.

"What! You realise that property will lose all value without the trees."

"Indeed but the ministry is prepared to compensate you for the trees and any fire damage." Mr.Fudge adds.

"Fire damage! What on earth are you planning on doing there!" You blurt out, you're voice rising several octaves.

" Miss Deauxville, we would tell you if we could, trust us it would make this so much easier, but unfortunately you are still a Hogwarts student and therefore we regretfully have to keep our lips sealed."

You decide to let it go. After all your father had done plenty of suspicious deals before he fell ill.

"How much are you offering?"

"370 000 galleons for eight weeks" Barty answers. You knew that property in the middle of the Black Forest was essentially worthless because of the aggressive centaurs that lived around it. They were offering a lot more money than expected so you quickly grabbed your pen and signed the contract. The two other men did the same. You got up to shake their hands and left the room.

(y/n) sat next to Draco and Lucius Malfoy for the remainder of the game. They made small talk but she couldn't focus on anything other than that property in the Black Forest.

Why the hell would the ministry be so eager to lease that dump? Why would there be fire damage? Why cut all the trees? Questions were swarming your mind like bees.

You look up when you hear the tremendous cheers coming from all the Irish fans. The game was over. You smile to yourself.

Those bloody Weasleys predicted it. Krum caught the snitch but Ireland won.

Both teams came up to the Minister's box to shake his hand. Everyone got up and clapped when the Irish team proudly walked in. The Bulgarian team stomped in with it's sulking seeker Victor Kum leading them. You started shaking hands with people you barely recognized just trying to get out of there as fast as possible. You shake Viktor Krum's hand and give him a warm smile, after all the guy had just lost the biggest game of the year, and he gave you a smile that never completely reached his eyes. Suddenly a bright flash blinds both of you. When you regain sight you see Rita Skeeter standing there with a camera.

"Beautiful photo" She says with the phoniest widest smile.

You finally join the Weasley clan and Cedric Diggory around a campfire later that night after the Malfoys had insisted that you have dinner with them.

"Where were you? I was getting worried. I mean. We. We were getting worried" Harry says quickly. The others give him strange looks.

"Stuck at a dinner with the Malfoy's." You sigh "If anyone mentions politics or the stock exchange one more time I will slit all your throats ok?" They all laugh and explain that they're playing truth or dare.

"Give me a dare! Give me a dare!" Ginny pleads.

"That's not how it works Ginny, you have to get picked." George explained.

"We've been playing for an hour and nobody's picked me !" She whines.

"Fine, eat this" Fred says, handing her a candy.

She pops it in her mouth and her tongue starts to swell enormously. She runs to find Mr.Weasley.

"She asked for it." Fred says, throwing his hands up.

They all keep playing, (y/n) not really paying attention. She was distracted by the Minister's words: "we would tell you if we could, trust us it would make this so much easier, but unfortunately you are still a Hogwarts student and therefore we regretfully have to keep our lips sealed."

"Cedric, truth or dare." George asks, smirking.

"Dare."

"Very well, your dare is to go ask one of those veelas on a date." He says pointing to a group of breathtaking creatures. You feel a pang of jealousy as Cedric gets up. Instead he comes and sits next to you.

" (y/n), how about a date?"

"Sure" You smile and turn red as George gets up, flailing his arms around..

"No no no. I said a Veela."

"George, are you a bloody idiot, everyone in Great Britain knows (y/n) is a quarter Veela." Hermione says.

Fred and George look at you puzzled.

"Really?" Asks Fred.

"Can you do that cool demon bird shit?" George looks at you suspiciously.

You laugh. "No! It would be kinda fun though if I could. But no, I can't turn into a bird or enchant men into falling hopelessly in love." You say making dramatic hand gestures.

" I don't know about that" Mumbles Harry. You shoot him puzzled looks.

As the night goes on the group keeps talking and playing various games. Your eyes start to feel heavy.

"I think I need to go to sleep." You mumble.

"You can always sleep with me." Fred purrs. Ron hits him with the back of his hand. Cedric's jaw stiffens as he glares at Fred. He looks like he's about to say something when Hermione cuts him off.

" I'll walk you back to your tent (y/n)"

You agree and say goodnight to everyone. As you're walking back you hear screams and see dark figures with masks levitating and torturing a muggle family. You and Hermione run towards the forest where you catch up with Ron and Harry. Ron trips. Lumos Hermione whispers and a bright glow appears on the tip of her wand.

You spot Draco leaning calmly against a tree close to you.

"Better go Hermione, unless you want to show everyone your underwear, if so stick around it would be tremendously funny" He sneers while gesturing to the levitating family.

How can he be so freaking calm when people are literally being tortured less than fifty feet away?

Harry and Ron start defending Hermione and question Draco about his parent’s whereabouts. Meanwhile, you're stuck in a trance watching the family of muggles being tortured and feeling helpless.

"Have it your way, Potter" Draco grins maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a mudblood, stay where you are"

Anger ripped through your body at the sound of those words and you were about to tear his vocal cords out and jinx him within an inch of his life when someone gently squeezes your hand.

"(y/n), let's go." Cedric says, his eyes pleading.

[in-class-daydreams]

Parlay (Kuroo x Reader) | Chapter 4

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (ft. Roommate Kenma)

Word Count: ~900

Genres: Fluff, angst if you squint, general buffoonery

CW: Some swearing, but otherwise none!

Summary: (Y/N), a first-year student attending Tokyo U, is living with her best friend, Kozume Kenma. Little did she know, her life would be turned upside down after being exposed to Kenma’s volleyball teammate and close friend, Kuroo Tetsurou. One wrong move, and the parlay’s stakes only get higher each time.

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

“This is impossible!”

“Kuroo, Kirby’s the easiest character to play as.”

After his character got knocked off the screen yet again, Kuroo flopped backwards and pressed a pillow to the sides of his head. Kenma rolled his eyes.

“What a baby,” he mumbled. (Y/N) nudged his shoulder with hers.

“Be nice to Kuroo-san,” she placed her head on his shoulder, “Not everyone can be a famous pro-gamer.”

Kenma looked away from her.“Pfft, I’m not famous.”

She grinned teasingly. “Kozume-san! Can I get your autograph? You’re my idol! Kyaaaaaa!” she squealed in an exaggerated high-pitched tone.

Kenma struggled to free his face from its place between her hands. His hands gripped her wrists and they play-wrestled together. Kuroo got over his despair over being a video game amateur, and watched the two roommates tease each other. The two of them were a cute couple. Kenma pulled (Y/N) towards him, and Kuroo jolted in his spot. Of course they’d kiss. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, after all. But why did the idea make him so uneasy?

Kenma leaned in close and coldly said, “If you don’t stop, I’ll make you do the laundry. All by yourself. For a week.”

(Y/N) gasped loudly. ‘You demon!’

“But folding clothes is so hard! Ken-Ken--”

“Don’t ‘Ken-Ken’ me. I’ll make you do it. I really will.”

(Y/N) retracted her hands. Pouting, she said, “Fine, fine.”

Since sitting together in class that first day, she and Kuroo went to class together every session. Afterwards, Kuroo would drop her off at work. Every day, without fail. She never could convince him to stay a while for some treats. Chisai’s songpyeon was a life-changing ambrosia, however, and she was determined for Kuroo to try it. Last week, she’d texted Kuroo to go into class without her instead of waiting for her in the hall. A minute before class was set to start, she scurried in and placed a cute wooden box tied with a silky lilac ribbon.

“What’s this?” he asked in surprise.

“It’s songpyeon! A gift from my coworkers and me,” she chirped.

“I’ve never met your coworkers, though?”

She shrugged, “We’re all like family at Chisai, so they wanted to thank the boy they see through the window who the time to make sure I make it to work safely. We’re all really grateful.” She bowed to him.

His heart beat a little faster. He kept chanting ‘Bro-Code, Bro-Code, Bro-freakin’-code!’ in his mind like a mantra.

“It’s not a problem. Thank you for the food.”

In the living room, she turned back to the TV screen and was reminded how Kuroo only got in 64% damage and took 312%. Rather than bruise his pride going easy on him themselves, she and Kenma had paired him against a CPU at the easiest setting. It looked like his pride couldn’t be saved after this defeat.

“Kuroo-san, don’t feel bad. Games are hard and you’re talented at a lot of other things, like school, and you’re good at volleyball, aren’t you?”

Kuroo straightened up at that, “Good? I’m excellent. I’m the school’s star spiker!”

“Actually, Ushi--”

The taller male cut him off, “Come to our game tomorrow. There you can see me in action, and I’ll prove that I’m amazingly talented.”

(Y/N) felt she had seriously opened a can of worms, “Kuroo-san, I never said that you weren’t--”

“Come on! This is a chance for you to see both your boyfriend’s and my talents. Just make sure you remember you’re Kenma’s girlfriend. Make an effort not to fall for me after watching me play,” he winked at her.

‘Idiot! That’s such a weird thing to say! Pull yourself together, Kuroo. Kenma, my sweet boy, I’m sorry I’m such a creep.’

Kenma and (Y/N) shared a look before the girl dryly replied, “I doubt that’ll be an issue.”

Kuroo ended up leaving for practice a bit early today, and Kenma had to pre-record some ”Let’s Plays” before finals week ate up all his time. Honestly, she wondered how her friend was able to be a successful gamer, and a genius setter who could analyze just about anything related to volleyball while being a college student. It was, quite frankly, the flex of the century.

Before he disappeared down the hall, he called out to her, “He’s an idiot, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s never gonna get it. He’s too wrapped up in his own head.”

Kenma huffed a laugh. He could feel the cogs turning in her head. The former brain of Nekoma’s volleyball team chuckled to himself. It looked like he’d be winning the bet sooner than expected.

(A/N) : Hey everyone! This chapter is probably one of the shorter ones we’ll write in comparison to some of the other ones. Hopefully, it still was just as enjoyable as the previous ones so far! The cover is slowly making its way to completion. (I just finished the linework for it T.T). Anyways, see you guys soon, and please look forward to the next chapter! :)

- Admin Kiwi-Chan

(A/N): This was a little shorter because I originally storyboarded it to be short, but I’m also kinda tired from doing four chapters in four days, lol. Hope you enjoyed, and the next chapter will be up as soon as editing is done. Thanks!

- Admin Mango-Chan

~~

Taglist: @joyful-jimin

[new-endings]

The Nice and Accurate Guide to Courting

Was I supposed to go to church and find out myself that it’s World Marriage Day? yes again i know it’s a catholic thing but these two are V MARRIED and deserve to celebrate. 

Anyways here’s a thing I posted on ao3

Summary: As Hell’s bastard prince, Crowley is expected to wed an Archangel of Heaven’s kingdom to bring peace between the two warring nations.

It really is too bad he only has eyes for his sweet, bastard of a Guide, the Principality Aziraphale, who is dead-set on making sure the engagement happens.

For the sake of their kingdoms, Aziraphale leads him through the long, arduous road of winning an Archangel’s favor and affections. However, Crowley would much rather use that romantic guidance to win him over instead.

-as Dictated By Anathema Device, Written in Full Detail By Newton Pulsifer

Step 1: Select the Target (of your Affections)

And thus sayeth the Lord of Heaven:

The wars are pointless. Might as well make a ceasefire. Hey, here’s an idea: bring your most expendable pawn to join in unholy matrimony with one of my elitist wankers to bolster this war-ruined economy.

Or rather, that’s how Crowley perceived the whole ordeal to have gone.

Perhaps a tad cruder than the grand scrolls with its elegant scripts, wriggly signatures and glorious crests and coat-of-arms adorning the designated treaty between their two kingdoms would lead others to believe. But in the end, that hardly mattered to Crowley.

Because spectacle and ceremony aside, Hell really did send their more expendable (but still Royal-Enough-to-Count) pawn to join in unholy matrimony with one of Heaven’s damned Divines. With the Archangels—anointed by the Queen herself as miniature de facto rulers of Heaven’s domains. Sneering, snobbish, stuffy and insufferable and this scheme—

Suicidal. This entire trip, the entire ordeal, and the very notion that the precariously perched balance of peace laid within Crowley, Bastard Prince of Hell’s, begrudging hands— is utterly stupid.

Crowley scowled as he eyed the Garden’s flora. The wisteria withered under his gaze, petal quivering in the face of the sour aura exuded from the sulking Prince. But could they really blame him? Flowers know nothing of having one’s whole life centered around the illegitimacy of one’s birth—constantly reminded of their position as the withered, rotting branch the imperial tree, and then all of a sudden being Granted this fine opportunity to bring honor and peace to his damned Kingdom with the underlying threat of You better not fuck this up looming over their heads—

He heard commotion from beyond the castle gates and the ominous barking of hellhounds beneath. He let a grin snake across his lips. Ah. So the search begins.

He knew galivanting off to make some trouble would earn him a proper reprimand now that they were actually trying to make nice with the Birds, but who did they have to blame it on but themselves? After all, Crowley spent many-a-year crafting his extensive history as a terrorizing nuisance, an intolerable annoyance, an antagonizing—

“Oh, dear…”

Angel?

Crowley peeked behind the archways, catching sight of cloud-puff hair and nervous, wringing hands.

Attached to, unsurprisingly, an Angel, looking down at the ensuing mad scatter below.

There was a curious pull; something that Crowley didn’t bother to question as he inched forward and leaned against the cool stone of the curtain wall. “That one went down like a lead balloon, eh?”

Rather than flinch, the Angel let out an absentminded laugh. “Yes, rather.” He paused, the realization that there was another presence dawning on him. He turned. “Err. Sorry, what was it that you were saying?”

Looking back at it, Crowley would have sworn up and down his breath caught at the sight of cherubic cheeks, sea-storm eyes, and worried-bitten lips. But in reality, the single word Pretty passed through his brain at such an alarming speed that Crowley barely had the attention-span to catch it as the Pretty Angel looked to him expectantly to answer.

Crowley stepped forth from the cool shade of the trees and joined the curious Angel at his perch. “I said that one went down like a lead balloon.”  

“Oh. I suppose you’re right.” His eyes flickered down and he brought his hands together. There that nervous habit was again.

Crowley cleared his throat, eyes overlooking the bailey to the dots of villages over the horizon. “I think it was a bit of an overreaction, to be honest.”

The Angel beside him shrugged, an uneasiness in his voice. “He’s a Prince.”

Ah. So that’s what this Angel was concerned about. He tried to keep the mirth from his voice. “And shouldn’t his footmen have been keeping a better eye on him because of that?” Hats off to Hastur and Ligur for being the best of the worst—Crowley knew he did well in selecting them. “It’s of no consequence to you, Angel.”

“What—of course it does!” Crowley raised a brow as the angel began to fluster all over again. “Oh, dear…He’s supposed to be my charge! I was to be his Guide in our Kingdom!” Panic started to creep into his voice all over again. “I haven’t even met him yet and now—he’s gone!”

It took perhaps a second or two to register what exactly this Angel was saying. Charge? This lovely fool of an Angel—was to be his Guide?

Huh. Maybe Crowley’s luck was taking a turn for the better after all.

“Where could he be? This is terrible—he must feel so lost right now! And alone!” Crowley gave a fascinated smile and was just his luck that the Angel missed it as he cast his eyes to the skies above for guidance, and then earthward for commiseration as the hellhounds sniffed fruitlessly for a trail that Crowley was more than adept at throwing off.

A plan drowsily wormed its way to Crowley’s thoughts. Perhaps he could have a bit of fun here as well. “Hang on there, Angel. I’m sure your charge isn’t too far off.”

The Angel did a double-take at the mysterious figure shrouded in dark robes—perchance comprehending for the first time that he was not conversing with another Bird.  “Did you know the Prince? I ah, assumed you arrived with him,” he asked imploringly. “Perhaps he was merely hungry and wanted a nibble. Or—or he spoke of wanting to visit someplace in the Kingdom?”

That startled a laugh out of Crowley. He lowered his hood, fiery red hair and amber eyes unveiled to the Angel. “You could say that. But no, he didn’t seem to be very interested in…sightseeing, as it were.” He gave a knowing grin. “Perhaps he slithered off just to be a pest.”

“If he were trying to get lost on purpose, that just makes the situation even more difficult and dangerous!” The Angel was frowning again and—did he really not  realize that Crowley was the person he was looking for?

This’ll be even more fun. “There, there.” He gave a friendly pat to the Angel’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be all right. Say, I’ll even help find him for you.” He bit back a chuckle.

But ah… “Oh! You would?” How the Angel lit up like the morning sky at that.

I’d gift you an entire continent if you keep looking at me with those eyes. Crowley shook that thought from his head. “Of course.” He hummed, giving a sly smile. “For a price.”

The Angel blinked once. Then twice. “Oh.” Then, with certainty: “Name it. If it’s mine to give, it’s yours.”

Crowley leaned in closer, tilting his head to catch more of this Angel’s guarded face. Ah, not so soft and vulnerable now… “Oh, Angel. You ought to be careful making deals with Demons.”

The Angel sent him a dry look. “I’m in no mood for your theatrics, err...” He gave a questioning glance.

Without even thinking: “J.” After one second of thinking: J?![

“Jay?” The Angel echoed.

Crowley shook his head; no going back on that one. “No, just J.”

“What does…”

“It’s just a J. Really,” he muttered tersely.

“Okay…J.” The Angel looked more unsure of pronouncing the Demon’s name than the terms of their agreement. “And yes. I’m sure. No price is too great for peace.”

Ah. One of those then. Crowley could understand the noble efforts and the valiant naivete that peace could be kept between their people all through the binding of blood-ties, but he fancied himself more of a realist. Still… “Very well.” He’ll lend a hand regardless for the sweet and foolish Angel before him. “Your name, then.” It’s not like he has a choice in the matter.  

The Angel sputtered. “My—my what?”

Crowley eyed him with confusion and impatience. “Give me your name.”

“What—just because you were saddled with just a J doesn’t quite mean—”

“No, you twat.” He rolled his eyes at the offended gasp from his companion. “I meant I’d like to know your name. That’s all. Unless you’d prefer me to call you Angel all the time. Or Bird.”

The Angel at least had the manners to look embarrassed. “Aziraphale,” he stated, holding out his hand in introduction. “That’s my name.”

Lovely. “Eh. Too long. I’ll stick with Angel instead.” It’s still miles better than Just a J but even Crowley’s subconscious refuses to acknowledge that. Taking the Angel’s hand and leading him away to the grounds below, he said over his shoulder: “Well, let’s be off. He’s obviously not here, right?”

“R-right!”

.

.

It was surprisingly hard work, finding yourself.

Or rather, pretending to find the person that you already are while at the same time avoiding the hellhounds and whatever green Hellions of his Legion still haven’t learned their lesson about not-even-bothering-to-try-and-find-Prince-Crowley-when-he’s-escaped.

That, on top of navigating through a caste town with an Angel (also guilelessly looking for him) at his side.

There were one-too many close calls with a hellhound or two picking up his scent where he had to (regrettably) drag Aziraphale away from bakeries and patisseries towards the iron-sharp stench of the butcher’s just to throw them off. Some distance away, he could hear a soldier wrestling the dogs away from the meats, cursing colorfully with strained effort. It was a good thing his companion did little but eye him suspiciously whenever Crowley did so, but he shrugged it off whenever the Demon began (unwisely) interrogating the man possessing a meat-cleaver on the whereabouts of the Prince of Hell.

By the third hour of his escape, his disappearance was abuzz in all manner of conversation. So much so that it suddenly became quite easy to hide in plain sight. After all, they were expecting the Prince to hide amongst the shadows, fearful of daylight and capture, not be meandering off with a strange Angel he met by the Gardens and cross-examining people of his own location.  

“Are you quite certain that the Prince wouldn’t be err… peckish at this hour?”

It’s barely noon Crowley thought, and no, he wouldn’t be. He wasn’t too fond of mealtime; not when a hot plate of food also meant the whole ordeal of sitting through Beelzebub’s barking orders or the rousing topics of current politics hovering like flies. “I don’t believe so—”

A shadow of disappointment flashed through Aziraphale’s face before a new spark of inspiration brightened it. “Ah, but!” He took Crowley by the arm, leading him to another direction. “You’re a newcomer after all— please, let me interest you in this quaint eatery and show you what delicacies our kingdom has to offer—”

Right…and it had nothing at all to do with the Angel’s whimpering stomach. Crowley chortled. “I thought you wanted to find your charge.” The moment he said that, Crowley regretted it as Aziraphale dropped his hand and the enthusiasm in his step dropped dead.

“Err…right.” He glanced up at his companion sheepishly. Fuck, Crowley mourned. “I mean you’re right, of course.” I made him sad.

“No, no, I, ah.” He glanced down, finding the Angel’s hand and pulling him along. “Let’s go in, shall we?” He dragged the other to a bustling building, a savory aroma wafting through the air. “Maybe we’ll find some clues as to where he’s been from the gossip.”

Aziraphale blossomed radiantly at that. “Quite right, dear!”

Crowley’s heart sputtered in his chest at the unexpected endearment. “L-lead on, Angel.”

.

He didn’t mean to spend the next two hours there. And in Aziraphale’s defense, they did a thorough sweep of the area and listened in on conversation for any hints to the whereabouts of the missing Prince, but that all dissolved into a fine pile of goo to be thrown in a bucket and kicked out to gutters as Crowley got them a table, Aziraphale placed an order for the both of them, and a plate of oysters were set before them. Crowley couldn’t help it if Aziraphale lit up like a sky-full of evening stars.

He looked positively besotted. “Oh, you must try them, J. I insist!”

And so Crowley did. He liked them well enough.

But not nearly as much as he liked watching the look of sheer completion on Aziraphale’s face. Silvery lashes fluttering close, the shape of his lips as he closed his mouth around the tasty morsels, the breathless sighs—

Crowley shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was ever-fortunate that years of casting a mask of indifference on his face during mealtimes prepared him for this.

Then: a plate of something sweet, decadent, and sugary was placed between them. “We mustn’t forget about dessert!” Aziraphale happily intoned.

Satan preserve us. Crowley watched on, pupils dilating ever-so-slightly as Aziraphale lapped up the cream.

.

.

It was sundown and Aziraphale was doomed.

NO—not just Aziraphale.

His country, their entire nation, the KINGDOMS OF HEAVEN AND HELL—

The two footmen in charge of the Prince in the first place actually had the gall to look bored. In just a few minutes, the Prince would need to be announced before his intended suitors and if the Prince doesn’t appear through those ridiculously ornate doors to the grand ballroom—

Political tensions would skyrocket to an all-time high. There would be distrust between the efforts of peace between the two nations. Uncertainty and suspicion would overrun the entire efforts to stop conflict and they’ll be back at each other’s throats all over again, ravaging war after fruitless war, sacrificing resources, land, citizens for the sake of the elite’s gain—

“Calm down, Angel,” J’s voice rattled off in his head. “It’ll work out in the end. Just. Breathe.”

Just breathe. Just. Breathe.

Breathing did bollocks. Where was that wine…

A sizeable crowd had gathered now, consisting of high-ranking commanders and officials: the Seraphs, Cherubs, even some Dominions. Their gazes briefly flitted past the Demons, snorting in amusement as their eyes flickered over to where Aziraphale stood by the threshold. The Principality tried not to squirm under their calculating stares.

He ought to have faith—that’s right. He ought to have faith that all will go according to the plan—well. Whatever plan She had in store.

Her Majesty the Queen may not have been completely clear in her instructions as she bequeathed him the responsibility of guiding Crowley, Prince of Hell, through their culture and kingdom in order to dutifully bind his life to that of the Divines—nevermind that it doesn’t make a tick of sense that Crowley needs to woo one of them in the first place if the goal is to simply establish peace by the sharing of bloodlines and all that — but he’s an Angel.

And Angels were made to obey even if the ineffable plan was quite…in-affable.

The doors opened and a Demon’s lazy drawl commenced. Aziraphale’s pulse quickened.

“May I present to you—”

Oh—

“His Royal Highness, son of King Lucifer of the Kingdom of Hell—”

—Fuck.

“Prince Anthony J Crowley.”

A beat of silence. Aziraphale felt the blood drain from his face.

But then: “Just Crowley is fine.”

If it was possible to choke on absolutely nothing, Aziraphale would have been granted a very strange and rather rude epitaph if he happened to croak at this very moment. Well, one could suppose he did choke on the incredulity of the scene before him:

Of J sauntering through the doors with regal indifference, too-cool-to-be-bothered demeanor in his dark royal garb, nonchalant and nonplussed as if he didn’t just give Aziraphale a heart attack at the lightning-strike realization that he had just spent the entire afternoon looking for the damned Prince—only for said Prince to lead him around town square on a wild goose chase.

Aziraphale couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe. He was humiliated—for sure—but he hadn’t planned on doing anything about it within the vicinity of the eyes of Heaven’s elites—

That was, until J—Prince Crowley—caught his gaze and sent him a smarmy grin.

.

Aziraphale was rightfully pissed. And Crowley found it adorable.

He had planned to apologize, he really did! He not only thoroughly enjoyed the company of his Guide, but it seemed that Aziraphale—unlike most of the dead-eyed stares within the room—actually gave a shit. About peace—about him! And that wasn’t something Crowley was about to let go. He decided it would be best to let the Angel simmer down a little and then confront him when most of the heat had dissipated with some fine wine and dancing—

But alas. That flustered face was too sweet a temptation to ignore. So after making his proper appearance to the Archangels (bow, proclaim your title, Pleased to make your acquaintance, I look forward to working together in the name of peace between our two kingdoms, yaddayaddayadda) and there he goes back again to the red-faced, scowling little Bird.

And had Aziraphale not been blustering with ill-contained frustration at him, he might have even noticed the eyes on them as Crowley approached. The Prince gave a sweeping bow—“To a Principality?” someone murmured among the masses— and took Aziraphale’s hand with all the blithe charm he could muster. “Pleased to formally make your acquaintance.”

All fallen on deaf ears and eyes blinded by rage. “YOU!” Aziraphale hissed out.

If it wouldn’t make tensions between them even worse, Crowley would have thrown his head back in a laugh. Instead, he settled for pleased-as-punch smile that the Angel, had he inhaled more liquid courage into his system, might have put description to reality. “Let’s walk and talk, shall we?”

And so, the gallant prince goes, sweeping his Guide off his feet into a dance as the celebration began and a swell of music drifted through the air.

But alas, Aziraphale doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s dancing with the Prince right now—he was merely content to hissing in his ear. “J!”

“Or dance, as it stands, err, sways,” Crowley corrected as he took the lead. “And like I said, you can call me Crowley, Angel.” Forward. “And see? I told you everything would be all right!” Side.

Closed. “I SPENT HOURS LOOKING FOR YOU! And—you were the Prince all along?!”

A pull, back and forth. “Guilty,” Crowley replied, though his tone implied he was anything but. The Angel was pouting again. “Oh don’t look so cross at me. We had a good time, right?”

Back. Aziraphale sputtered. “I SAW MY LIFE FLASH BEFORE MY EYES WHEN THEY ANNOUNCED YOU!” Side.

Closed. Crowley huffed, clearly and infuriatingly amused. “Did that include the time you met a mysterious, handsome fellow who, out of the goodness of his heart, decided to aid you in looking for your charge today?”

Back. “No,” He seethed tartly. “It included the time I met an irritation of a Royal who decided to play me for a sucker.”

Forward. “Tsk, don’t think of it like that. Think of it as—getting to know each other,” Crowley offered. Aziraphale eyed him darkly. Side. “Without the pomp and regality of it all,” he continued. “After all, I certainly enjoyed my time with you.” Closed.

Back. “Hmph.” But Crowley could already see the steam running out. The tense and terse replies relaxed to a tranquil banter. “Well—It appears that I’ll need to keep closer eye on you. In case you decide to cause anyone else grief.” There was still a glower in those stormy eyes, but there was also a hint of a resenting smile on those wine-pinked lips.

Forward. Crowley gave him a wicked grin. “Oh, Angel. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be sure to save all my mischief just for you—”

Side. “You—!”

Closed. “—if it means we get to have more days like today.”

And he’ll be sure to make it up to him later.  It wouldn’t do not to be in good graces with his Guide after all—it certainly would make his stay far less fun. And from their outing that day, it became very apparent that his Guide has a penchant for good food and wine…

The first song ended with a bustle of cheer from the crowd and Aziraphale froze, the realization hitting him square in the face that he just spent the first dance with the Prince. It sent Aziraphale reeling, thoughts coming to a halt between the immovable object of two choices keeping him frozen in place: to crawl away from the crowd and into his bed for a solid week or to walk away with some semblance of dignity far, far away from the Prince.

But alas; it appeared that Crowley just so happened to be an unstoppable force to pull him away from his (safer) two options. “You’re not bad!” Crowley laughed, taking his hand again as the music started up and before any of the Birds could swoop down and interrupt their fun.

He gave a fanciful twirl to the startled Angel, holding him tight to make sure the other didn’t stumble in his steps. The song possessed a faster tempo this time; he hoped the Angel could keep up.

Given enough time and patience to allow the Angel to concede that This is my life now, he, in fact, could.

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

Meet-cute? Check.

A prince in disguise? Check.

Aziraphale dancing something other than the gavotte—wait, what? Also check.

More to come, I think.

Thank you for reading!

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Another Variable

You don’t think he’s much of a demon as he is a worm since he seems to have quite the talent in worming his way into your life. Now that he’s passed the Spice Girls’ code of conduct, you should’ve known that it’s only fair that you would do the same. Only, you weren’t ready for it.

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: slice of life, slow-burn, fluff, comedy. supernatural

warnings: strong language, memes, and pop culture references that need to be taken away from me.

word count: 8.7k

Straight continuation from Distance and the Heart

Related Works: see Masterlist

A/N: ohhh boyyy ummm not much to say other than this just keeps getting longer and that I don’t if I’m doing it well :DD

You’re caught like a deer in the headlights; your mind blanking because your brain cells have called for a state of emergency in the form of running around like headless chickens in a panic.

 All two of them.

 Jaehee continues to openly gawk at your guardian demon that looks too much like a world-renowned Korean celebrity to be a coincidence, at least to her untrained eyes. You’re struggling to come up with a plausible excuse for it, your own eyes flitting nervously to Jimin in a silent plea for help but he seems way too amused at the situation; more than he should be considering he’s the one who’s the cause of it. In fact, he knows he’s made an oopsie but seeing you struggling like this makes it worth it. You see your window of opportunity closing, literally see it slipping as the longer neither of you say anything, the more Jaehee’s eyes begin to widen, mouth slowly forming into an ‘O’ of realization like she’s just on the cusp of pinpointing exactly where she’s seen him from.

 God this is it…this is how it all ends.

 But as if sensing your despair (or maybe taking pity on you), your guardian demon finally makes a move. With a deliberate tilt of his head, he flashes her a million dollar smile with charm levels reaching over 9000 and as smooth as a cucumber says, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

 You see the sentence put Jaehee’s thoughts to a halt for a moment, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. The gears are turning in her head and you watch on, feeling a sweat beginning to break out but as you sneak a glance at Jimin, he’s still unbothered like he’s got this one in the bag. Jaehee brings herself back again, eyes focusing in on Jimin and with determination she rebuttals with, “No, I swear I’ve seen you from somewhere…like…on TV or the internet or something…”

 She trails off in thought, her piercing gaze drifting off for a bit as if the files of her memories were floating above her head, her mind sifting through them. Jimin remains silent, completely relaxed as he waits patiently for Jaehee to arrive to some other conclusion. You, on the other hand, have short-circuited into becoming a statue, muscles stiff and on edge because it feels as if you’re trying to prevent a bomb from detonating by tiptoeing around it (i.e. being useless). Perhaps it’s too late to make that analogy now because before you know it, you see Jaehee’s figurative light bulb go off on her head and the next words she exclaims a little too loudly.

 “I remember now! You look like one of the Korean boy group member that Y/N follows! BTS right?!” Her excited eyes dart towards you as if to confirm but all you manage is a croaky sound akin to a dying cat. Jaehee powers on regardless like she’s on a roll.

 “Gosh I don’t remember his name but I swear you look just like him! Um…” She’s snapping her fingers, trying to jog her memory some more, muttering to herself. “It starts with a ‘J’ like…Jay, Jo…Ugh! He’s your favourite too right?”

 At the moment, you wished he wasn’t.

 Jaehee continues to list off variations of ‘J’ names off the top of her head until they start to sound more like something resembling Jimin’s name. “Jumin! Or is it Jimin? Is it either one of them?”

 You’re horrified but also impressed with Jaehee, being that despite blabbering to her about BTS whenever she catches you in those moments, you had an inkling that she was only half-listening to you because she wasn’t very interested in them so for her to remember a specific member and placing a name? You’re a little touched. But of all times…. why now?

 Jimin doesn’t say anything, and the silence makes the beating of your heart seem all the more deafening to you. He blinks once, then twice, before a slow smile makes its way across his lips.

 “Ahh….” He lets out as if he only just realized that he looks like an A-List celebrity. You hate him so much right now but he’s doing a hell of a good job at deflecting Jaehee’s suspicions. “I know who you’re talking about now! Yeah, I get told I look like him a lot…like, all the time.”

 Jaehee’s eyes light up with delight at being right as she excitedly proclaims, “I bet you do! Oh my God, have you ever got asked to do those celebrities look-alike gigs? Like TV shows or cameos in movies?”

 Jimin lets out a good-natured laugh, a melodious sound with the light tossing of his head that gives both you and Jaehee a clear view of his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously. You belatedly realize that you’re caught in the line of fire that is Jimin’s demonic charm working its magic to sway Jaehee, the air around shimmering with a smog you feel rather than see. You have to snap out of it; you have to drag yourself out of those crescent shaped eye smiles if you want to make it out of this alive. But it’s just so hard…. Damn it! With great effort however, you tear your eyes away from him, blinking hard to focus in on Jaehee, watching with slight pity at her being reeled into this web of lies.

 “Just once or twice, but I have a feeling it might be more often now since BTS is becoming a big thing huh?” And as if to add a finishing blow, he sweeps a hand through his luscious hair with just the right amount of bashfulness that would have anyone, man or woman, swooning. So it’s no surprise that you see that Jaehee’s a goner; wrapped up nicely around your demon guardian’s fingers.

 “Yeah….” Jaehee sighs, sounding suspiciously dreamy but all you do is look on in mild amusement and disbelief, managing a stiff smile in your poor attempts to go along with the act. There’s a moment of silence (for Jaehee’s sanity) and it’s then that you finally gather up the nerves to intervene, sensing that your crisis has been averted. You clear your throat as casually as you can which seems to do the trick in snapping Jaehee out of her daze a bit. She finally draws her eyes away from Jimin who you know is super pleased with himself without having to look at him.

 “Y-Yeah! So Jaehee, um, I guess I should officially introduce you to Ji—Jumin! He’s uh…the one who saved me that…. one time.”

 “Or you can call me Julien, my unofficial English name.” Jimin pipes up from beside you, grinning boyishly as you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. Jaehee beams back, eyes going wide again at the new information and you nearly laugh at the way she has to hold herself back from bursting but sort of fails anyways.

 “Oh my God! You’re him?! I— Oh wow! Um, I’m Jaehee! Y/N’s roommate and best friend!” She shoots you a not-so-subtle look that clearly screams, ‘GIRL WHAT THE HELL! YOU NEED TO SPILL THIS TEA TO ME ASAP!’ You only offer back a wry smile.

 “Nice to finally meet you, Jaehee. I heard a lot about you.” Jimin replies back smoothly, offering his hand to which Jaehee shakes with much enthusiasm. The smile on her face is so wide you think her cheeks would split from the force but as she lets go, her eyes catches sight of one small detail all of you seem to have forgotten.

 “OH MY GOD IS THAT MIKE?!”  

 You nearly jump at her sudden outburst, glancing down to see that indeed, Mike is still lying on the ground, KO’ed with a bloody nose. A nervous laugh escapes you before you can stop it but Jimin, ever the smooth operator, steps in again with his Oscar winning performance.

 “Oh! Yeah, I was just in the neighbourhood visiting a friend when I thought I saw Y/N from across the street with this guy. He looks like he was giving her trouble so I stepped in and he got a little…. violent. I mean, I think he had too much to drink but I had no other choice.” He almost sounded apologetic as he rubs the back of his neck, even throws in a sheepish smile. That little shit. Jaehee eats it up of course, her face morphing into one of frantic reassurance.

 “No, no, no! No I was just on the phone with Y/N and Mike sounded like he was being a douche. Really, I’m so glad at least you were there to step in before it got bad. Thank you Jumin er— would you rather prefer Julien?”

 “Either one is fine.”

 She nods with a smile. “Thank you Julien, I really appreciate it. But we still gotta take him home…. I guess.”

 “Oh no, no I’ll take care of him; it’s my fault really. You two should head home since it’s getting late.”

 At the proclamation, your eyes dart to Jimin alarmed because who knows what ‘take care of him’ actually means with him. He seems to pick up on what you’re thinking because all he does is give you a secretive smirk that tells nothing of his true intentions. It further worries you.

 “Are you sure Julien? You don’t have to, like you barely know him. We can just call someone to pick him up with an Uber and he’ll be fine; you don’t have to trouble yourself!”

 As much as Jaehee insists however, Jimin waves it all off with a hand and a deceptively angelic smile on his face, lightly pushing you more towards Jaehee in an attempts to send you off on your way quicker. You resist a little because you still don’t trust him being alone with a person whom he very much would want to kill and then tell you it was an ‘accident’ after.

 “I’m sure Jaehee, don’t worry! I’ll text Y/N to keep you updated and for sure, if I need your help, I’ll holler okay?”

 Jaehee’s hesitancy finally gives way, no doubt from that blinding smile Jimin is giving, and she finally concedes albeit reluctantly, grabbing your arm and tugging you to her side. You stumble, mouth opening and closing like a fish because you don’t want to leave Jimin unsupervised but you also don’t want to have to clean up this mess that is Mike either.

 “Okay…if you’re absolutely sure….” She says, dragging the end syllable as a last ditch effort to get Jimin to change his mind. However, the demon holds fast with a confident nod, shifting so that it looks like he’s just about to pick up the still unconscious man on the ground.

 “Positive. You two get home safe okay? Text me Y/N when you’ve arrived.” He says cheerily, scooping up Mike by the arm and more or less, swings him up like a sack of potatoes with no consideration to his injuries. Jaehee, with rose coloured glasses, gives one final nod and wave, bidding Jimin farewell and ultimately drags you away from the scene of the crime. You shoot one more glare Jimin’s way over your shoulder only to scowl when he just smiles, eyes crinkled and waves at you cutely until you’re too far to read his face.

 Not like you can dwell on it for long either because Jaehee’s on you, like she’s snapped herself out of most of the haze the spell had on her to jerk you forward, effectively gaining your attention and tearing your eyes away from the last of Jimin’s figure.

 “Oh. My. GOD! Y/N! Y/N you bitch! Why didn’t you tell me that that was the guy that saved you and you were talking to on and off to the point I thought you totally had a thing going on!” She exclaims, shaking you a bit in her anger but just when you’re about to get on the defensive, her next words immediately dispel any negative feelings bubbling inside of you. “I tried to set you up with someone like Mike for crying out loud! And you had someone like Julien all this time?! Girl what were you thinking?! What was I thinking?!”

 You can only let out a huff of laughter, bemused by the whole turn of events as Jaehee continues her zealous, one-sided interrogation on you, asking questions like where did you meet him? How did you meet him? Were there always good-looking guys like that in the city? Tell me your ways! But never really giving you the time or breathing space to answer back. You make it back home in no time though, sending Jaehee off with some satisfactory half-truths. By the time you make it into your room, you’re absolutely drained, mentally and physically. So much so that you had to take the time to lean against your closed door to just shut your eyes and exhale deeply.

 But you can’t go to sleep yet. No, not without knowing if your guardian demon with the tendency for murder is behaving himself. So you see to it that you have no choice but to sit awake, on your bed, like you’re a parent waiting to catch their teenager who snuck out for the night red handed. After washing up, you settle to sit in your bed for what you dread to be a long night. Only you didn’t quite foresee one (admittedly, crucial) thing; you were so tired.

 It felt like you had just closed your eyes for five seconds but the next time you open them, sunlight was leaking through your blinds. Needless to say, you trip out for a hot second because what the fuck.

 “Good morning sunshine.”

 You jerk in surprise like you’ve been electrocuted and you let out a whining curse from being startled so suddenly (you barely have your eyes open for crying out loud!) Through your sheets and flyaway hairs, you manage to spot the unmistakable figure of your would-be rebellious teen, sitting in your desk chair like a preening cat.

 “Where’ve you been last night!?” You hiss, accidentally putting too much emphasis on the first word before catching yourself from raising your voice any further. You don’t need Jaehee to wake up to this; it’s one thing for her to know of Jimin’s existence now but it’s another having to explain how he managed to break into your room and quite frankly, you’re not in the mood to risk another improv moment with Jimin as the lead actor. Your aforementioned guardian demon does nothing but run a hand through his hair, the locks parting like waves over his forehead before gently falling back perfectly to frame his face. He’s changed out of his outfit from last night, opting for another one of his dark silken shirts that drape loosely on his frame, offering a tantalizing view of his collarbones with his staple black slacks.

 It almost distracts you from your interrogation. Almost.

 “Why, I was here the entire time cherub. Like the dutiful guardian I am.” He answers you airily, eyes fluttering with feigned innocence. You shoot him a glare, suspicion rolling off you in a way you’re sure he feels it too but you don’t retort back because…. you can’t; you fell asleep before confirming it so this makes it ten times more infuriating because Jimin knows it too if the way he’s biting into his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing is anything to go by. You breathe in deeply, clearing your throat as you prepare to change tactics.

 “Well, the last time I saw you, you so graciously volunteered to take care of my…” You stop yourself, struggling to find the appropriate word. Ugh, what do you even call Mike after that incident now? You think even ‘acquaintance’ is a little too generous. Either way, you make a mental note to delete him from your contacts list as soon as you figure out whether or not your guardian demon has deleted him in a more… permanent way.

 A snort draws you from your musings and your gaze focuses back in on Jimin who has a hand up to his mouth to hide the grin on his face (his crinkled eyes gives him away though). You raise a brow at him, lost at what exactly he finds so funny.

 “Sorry, the look of absolute disgust on your face is unbecoming of you.”

 At that, your face scrunches up even more unattractively. “After that disaster, I think I’ve earned my right to be absolutely disgusted; I think a date with a garbage can would’ve gone smoother than whatever…that was.”

 That pulls a peal of laughter from him, head tossing back as his shoulders shake and the sight of it all makes you have to hide your own growing smile (right before you realize that you should probably keep it down or else you’d be found out, so you throw a leg out in Jimin’s direction with a half-warning ‘Jimin! Shush!’ to get him to reel himself back in).

 “To answer your previous statement,” Jimin starts after composing himself, “I took care of him alright….”

 “Jimin….” You groan out, not liking the very dark tone he’s taken on with the confession but really, honestly speaking? You don’t really care as long as Mike’s not dead. “What did you do?”

 “Oh nothing special; got him home, tucked him into bed, read him a bedtime story, set his dorm on fire….” He lists off casually, even takes the time to examine his cuticles.

 You on the other hand, start spluttering, managing to just choke out a strained, “What—!” before continuing on like he’s spilled lipstick in your Valentino white bag (which you sadly don’t own).

 “Okay, fine; I set him on fire.”

 That does not make it any better!                          

 Your horrified speechlessness sets another bout of uncontrollable giggles from Jimin who’s beside himself. As he struggles to not fall from his seat, you’re trying desperately to figure out if he’s being serious or he’s just messing with you. The worst thing is you can’t tell.

 “Jimin!” You whine after he shows no signs of throwing you a bone. “Please tell me you didn’t actually!”

 The little imp takes his sweet time calming down, wipes a tear or two and ruffles his hair again in that infuriating way you know that he knows he looks good. Your little glare has turned imploring at this point and at the sight of your pathetic self; Jimin rolls his eyes as he kisses his teeth.

 “Alright, alright. I just messed with him a bit; a little traumatized from it maybe but he’ll live…. unfortunately.” He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair as plump lower lips jut out in a pout. “You’re so lucky I have some restraint. I was this close to setting him on fire.” Jimin demonstrates it by bringing up a hand, the pads of his pointer and thumb a hair away from touching before he drops it to sigh out wistfully, “It’s tragic.”

 You can’t help but breathe a laugh through your nose from his theatrics before flopping back against your pillows, hands over your face because you can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Good, that’s one less thing to worry about. But now that just brings your attention to the next thing.

 “What about Jaehee?”

 “What about her?”

 “She knows who you are now! Don’t you have some demon magic to make her forget?”

 “Why would I?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “She just thinks I look freakishly like your celebrity crush. Besides,” He takes the time to cross his legs elegantly and fold his hands over a knee. “This just makes things easier for us doesn’t it? I don’t have to skulk around like some pervert, as you had so affectionately called my ’guardian duties’.”

 “Yeah, but that still won’t explain why you’re skulking around in my bedroom…. like a pervert.”

 “Oh darling is that what you’re so worried about?” He coos at you, leaning forward slightly to pin you with a deep amber gaze that has you unconsciously leaning back even from beneath the safety of your covers. It’s like you’re held captive against your will with just a single look from him, wanting so much to look away out of self-consciousness but the way his hooded eyes seem to swirl in a multi-faceted display of rich, dark hues that remind you of molten lava has you so entranced. Before you know it, you’re lost and drowning in them, so hyper-aware of everything about him. You swallow thickly when you see his rosy lips part and the sounds of his voice flows out in a timbre that seems to rumble from his chest, husky and low.

 “Would you like me to fix that for you?”

 All at once, you feel your face flush with a heat that seems to travel through your entire body along with a slew of emotions that has your mind going haywire. You’re frazzled, heart beating ridiculously hard against your chest from the implication but to your complete horror and slow realization, most of these feelings aren’t even directed at his words. Instead, you find that it was more so towards your own racing thoughts and the small admission that you’re…. actually slightly turned on?!

 The blankets have become far too hot now but it’s your only line of defense if you hope to get out of this one with your dignity still intact. Only that seems like a pipe dream because Jimin snorts out another laugh that breaks the sultry mask he had on, eyes practically disappearing amidst his muffled laughter. Of course it does nothing to calm your nerves because 1) the speed of which he switches demeanour baffles you, 2) now you’re on the verge of busting the biggest uwu you’ve ever had and 3) he fucking knows.

 You really wish the devil himself would come and take you to the deepest pits of hell now because your face feels like it’s caught fire to keep it burning for the next thousand or so years.

 “Oh dear, did I break you?” Jimin giggles and all you can do is glare petulantly at him; the only thing you make visible from beneath your blanket wall while choosing to mutter angrily under your breath (you’d rather not risk incriminating yourself further). You don’t need this sort of disrespect from him, not when you’ve also barely managed to get out of bed. He doesn’t seem to care though, with that shit-eating grin on his face as he gets up from his seat, hands stuffed into his pocket to stare down at you, eyes still twinkling mischievously.

 “Don’t be such a sour puss, kitten. Now go wash up before your breath starts peeling the wall paint.”

 “WHAT THE FU—?!”

 -

 By the time you’re done washing and officially ‘woken’ up, it’s two in the afternoon and Jimin was nowhere to be found. You huff to yourself, missing out on clobbering him for that last comment but eventually shrugged it off and went about your day with the intent of relaxing to the fullest. You’re thankful that both you and Jaehee have unanimously decided it was a lazy, stay-at-home, minimal social interacting day (though you can pretty much guess the reason why, not that you’re complaining).

 Your only hiccup was skirting around Jaehee who had told you she thought she heard you yelling in your room when she greeted you (to which you brush it off by saying you thought a spider had crawled its way up your arm, you know, like a liar). Other than that, you’re finally getting a much deserved self-care session that involves you, a warm cup of tea and re-watching Burn The Stage: The Movie for the nth time.

 “Hey what you want for dinner tonight Y/N?” Jaehee calls to you from the kitchen. You shift an earphone out from your place on the living room couch and give it some thought before ultimately coming up short.

 “I don’t know; make whatever you feel like Jaehee.”

 “Oh c’mon, is there really nothing you crave? How about I make your favourite dish?” She pokes her head out from the threshold to give you a pout. Jaehee, on top of still being apologetic over what happened between you and Mike, insisted that she cooks you dinner to make up for it (even after telling you that she told Jason to never bring or hang around with Mike ever again, which was really all you could ask for). You smile at her wryly with a shrug because you like any food Jaehee makes (and she makes some pretty bombass food).

 Knowing this, Jaehee blows a raspberry before tilting her head back in thought before whipping back around again. “Fine! But no complaining when it’s not what you’re expecting!”

 “When have I ever Jaehee?” You laugh.

 Contrary to your indecision, it doesn’t take long for Jaehee to get to work, the sounds of chopping and pans clanking flowing out steadily from the kitchen and before you know it, the sizzling chorus of rice being fried takes over along with the aromatic smell of meat, herbs and kimchi. You feel yourself salivating.

 “Dinner’s ready!” Jaehee calls out and you’re more than ecstatic. Placing down your laptop, you hop off the couch and pad over to the kitchen, letting your nose lead you. And you were not disappointed because Jaehee had just finished setting down a cast iron pan full of kimchi fried rice, topped with two sunny-side up eggs, chopped scallions, nori and sprinkled chilli powder on your small dining table.

 “Oh my god Jaehee, how do you do this?” You ask, openly gaping because wherein you think you have quite the baking talent, Jaehee is all about the culinary stuff; taking simple dishes and spicing them up by adding ingredients or trying different methods of serving. She only grins back at you, shimmying her shoulders in way that clearly shows she’s pleased with herself. Jaehee takes a seat and you do as well, picking up the metal spoon that’s been set down.

 “Thanks for the food!” You say before digging in too eagerly. The first bite nearly makes you moan aloud and it just further fuels your gusto. You’re about half way into dinner; happily chatting with Jaehee about the Netflix show you’ve both following when the doorbell chimes. You stop, spoonful of fried rice halfway into your mouth as you and Jaehee exchange puzzling looks.

 “Uh, I wasn’t expecting anyone….” Jaehee says, though she’s slowly getting up from her seat anyways. You remain unmoving, only gently setting down your spoon to shoot Jaehee a tentative look.

 “Maybe if we pretend we’re not home they’ll go away? Probably could be a solicitor.”

 “I’ll just take a peek, I don’t think it’s Jason even though sometimes he’ll get off work early. But he usually lets me know…” Jaehee’s voice fades as she steps further into the threshold of your front entrance. You lean your chair a little to try to get a view of the doorway but all you see is a sad, indiscernible corner, even though you’re nearly toppling over. You hear her footsteps halt, a silent pause, and then a loud gasp. You’re instantly alerted but before you can ask what’s wrong, you hear the clicking of locks unfastening and the door opening.

 “Julien!”

 You let out an undignified loud squawk from actually nearly toppling over on your chair but it gets lost amidst Jaehee’s excited chatter. By the time you’ve righted yourself, you’re a disheveled mess as Jaehee comes bounding in like a golden retriever, wide smile splitting across her face.

 “Julien’s here! He stopped by saying you didn’t text back so he got worried and wanted to check up on you! Go say hi!” She gets out in one breath and you’re only left to stare wide-eyed at her in a malfunctioning manner.

 “Wha— Where— Huh?!” You get out intelligently. But Jaehee is having none of it, quickly switching over to ‘mother mode’ with her hands on either hips, pursed lips and a pointed look that pretty much screams, ‘go say hi to your relative that you haven’t seen since you were five years old!’

 “Girl, he’s waiting by the door! Go talk to him!”

 And without waiting for your response, she promptly drags your chair out from the table, grabbing your wrist to haul you to the door with your body still in flight or fight mode. But it’s too late, Jaehee’s got you in a vice grip and you arrive out into the hallway where you clearly see Jimin, in all of his fucking glory, idly standing by the front door in such an effortless modelesque way that anyone could easily set up a photo shoot right here and now and he would be ready. He’s still wearing the outfit you last saw him in; only he’s thrown on a chic blazer-cut, dark grey pea coat with a black, white-trimmed scarf draping over his shoulders. If you squint, you see the trademark C’s embroidered at the corners: Chanel.

 You feel poor just looking at it; ten times more so because you’re still in one of your less than cute PJs.

 He immediately turns his attention towards the two of you approaching him; lips quirking into an easy smile but all you see is a snake. Jaehee doesn’t catch the disgruntled look on your face directed at Jimin, too preoccupied in being a good host.

 “Sorry, Y/N’s just a little caught off guard. She doesn’t do well with spontaneity.”

 Jimin lets out an airy laugh, the back of his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “I sort of figured. Again, I’m really sorry if this is a bad time; I just really want to check up on Y/N considering what happened last night.”

 “Well!” You pipe up, voice rising unintentionally from the need to end this conversation and kick him out of here as fast as you can. “I’m totally fine! — As you can see. So thanks for stopping by but yeah, you shouldn’t waste your time here now. So….”

 “Y/N!” Jaehee warns under her breath, followed by a pinch to your arm that has you flinching away with a pout. She plasters on a pleasant smile but through the blinding pearly whites, she grits out to you, “Would you mind keeping our guest company for a bit? I’m gonna go clean up and set up some tea and coffee okay?”

 “Oh no—“ You start but are taken aback when you hear your voice overlapping with Jimin’s. You whip your gaze to him the same time he does to you in movie-like comedic timing. Your eyes narrow as his only take on a twinkling mischievousness, knowing full well that you wanted him out of here while he’s only putting up an act of modesty. Of course, to Jaehee, it all looks too cavity inducing sweet so with an unfortunately misplaced, knowing look, she saunters off saying that she’ll go make that coffee and tea now with a tone of finality, leaving you no choice but to be alone with your pain-in-the-ass guardian. At least now, it gives you a moment of privacy to properly talk to him without having to keep face.

 “What are you doing here?!” You whisper yell and on instinct, throw in a slap to his arm. He easily bats it away, grinning in a Cheshire-like fashion.

 “Isn’t it obvious cherub?”

 You retaliate back with a barrage of slaps, wanting to wipe that stupid grin off his face. It works somewhat because now he’s scowling at you, even though he easily defends himself by holding up an arm.

 “This is Gucci you know.”

 “You need to leave right now! You can’t just show up at my door like this!”

 “On the contrary, I think as your dutiful guardian, it’s in our best interest if I build a rapport with those you associate yourself with yes?”

 “That’s highly debatable.” You shoot back with a hiss. The clinking of ceramic mugs has you darting your eyes away from Jimin to the kitchen, making you miss out on the way he mimics you sassily. You inwardly curse because you almost physically feel your chances of getting Jimin out of here become slimmer and slimmer. You immediately whip back to him, an accusatory finger raised to his face and words spilling out in such rapid succession that you struggle to keep the volume down. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing right now but you’re crossing the line! You do know that you’re actually risking your own cover by doing this right? So if shit hits the fan and you get found out and then get exorcised, don’t come whining to me about getting thrown back to hell and doing grunt work.”

 All throughout your berating, Jimin only smiles amused, which only infuriates you further. You’re over here about to blow a gasket but he just gives you a look like you’re a yapping little Chihuahua who has a lot to say. Well, you do! And this little Chihuahua is about to bite his head off—!

 “Breathe sweetheart, or I fear you might put yourself into cardiac arrest.” He chastises with feigned exasperation, placing a placating hand on your tense shoulders. You shoot him a hard glare, shoulder hunching up even more before he finally lets out a sigh, seeing as you’re not receptive to his playfulness. “Look, nothing’s going to happen, I promise. And though I do enjoy terrorizing you until you’re a frazzled mess, I’m not careless.” He pauses to give you a sincere, reassuring smile. “Trust me on this one.”

 The smile is so disarming that you eventually find yourself deflating, letting out a deep, calming breath. As you sink a little deeper into thoughts, you actually find that he’s right to a certain degree. Jaehee so far doesn’t seem to suspect anything beyond thinking Jimin looks funnily enough like your actual idol crush and your doppelgänger here has yet to give away any hints that he’s actually a supernatural entity you’ve made a contract with. But you find that’s all besides the point, what you find more troubling is that you’re starting to become too aware of the effects he has on you and he’s not even actively using an ounce of his demonic powers; that fact alone messes you up in more ways than one.

 He had so easily calmed and swayed your emotions with only a few spoken words that are always delivered in a way you least expect. When you think you’ve got him pinned for being a snarky, sassy, materialistic, nuisance of a demon who has a devious streak and finds amusement in making your life a little harder than it should at times (under the guise of being your ‘guardian’), he hits you with another side to him that lets you get a glimpse of something softer; that in spite of it all, he’ll never let you down when it counts. And you would think this bias stems from the fact that he looks like your idol crush but…. you find that it’s not. It’s more than that, and it sort of scares you.

 Throughout your silent brooding, Jimin watches and waits patiently, the faintest of smiles ghosting his lips. He can’t help but admit to himself that the creasing of your brow, as you’re lost in your own thoughts is endearing however, he finds that the look doesn’t quite suit you. So he presses a finger to soften the harsh lines. In turn, his cool touch snaps you out of your reverie, eyes focusing back on him again.

 “So are we in agreement?”

 The teasing smile that makes his eyes crease up into crescents annoys you but you have no arguments left against him. Casting your eyes to your feet, you mumble out an ‘I guess’, crossing your arms as heat begins to rise from your cheeks. Suddenly, you feel a hand rest on your head, giving you a gentle pat of affection.

 “That’s my girl.” You hear Jimin cooing. Stubbornly, you still refuse to meet eyes with him but your childishness only makes him chuckle. There’s a pause, a silence washing over you two as the faint smell of coffee starts to permeate the air. You’re not quite sure where to go from here to be honest, the tiniest piece of your pride bruised from not having the last word (you’d rather not be fuelling Jimin’s ego if you so can help it). But Jimin being… Jimin, has no regards to reading the room.

 “You know for a second, I could’ve sworn you were actually concerned if I get myself exorcised.” He teases slyly, which almost automatically sparks a retort at the tip of your tongue but as fate would have it, Jaehee’s voice interrupts you before you can get it out.

 “Coffee and tea’s ready!”

 You huff incredulously, watching Jimin shoot a wink and a finger gun at you before walking off to the kitchen. You follow, grumbling under your breath.

 The rest of the evening was basically spent with you being sandwiched between your roommate and guardian demon getting chummy with each other. Half the time you spend sipping your tea while the other you’re trying not to roll your eyes until they fall out of your skull every time Jimin laughs at a comment Jaehee has made (he’s so fake). By the time Jimin has finally decided that he should be heading off now, you’re thanking the heavens and are all too eager to get him out of the house.

 “It was really nice to have a proper conversation with you Jaehee.” Jimin says as he bends down to slip on his loafers.

 “Likewise! I’m really glad to have met you properly, considering how our first meeting sort of went.” Jaehee cheerily replies back. Once Jimin secures the laces, he stands to his full height and flashes a charming smile; hands stuffed into his pea coat pockets.

 “Thanks for the coffee again, I hope we’ll be seeing each other more in the future.”

 “Of course! Don’t be a stranger when you swing by okay? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

 “You know I’m still here.” You pipe up from behind Jaehee. Your friend waves you off as Jimin lets out a short chuckle before he perks up with a thought.

 “Oh! Almost forgot.” He fishes out his mobile, unlocking it and handing it to Jaehee. “Just so we can easily stay in touch. Never know when that one might cause trouble.” He nods towards you and you scoff, offended, as the words spill out from you before you realize it.

 “Uh? Rude?”

 Jaehee just laughs at your bickering, handing back Jimin’s phone and pulling you forward with an arm slung around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, I feel like as long as she’s got us and BTS, she’ll be fine.”

 Now you really want the devil himself to come up and take you away from this; what’s taking him so long?

 “Eh, you might actually be right on that.” Jimin replies with a smile before he’s turning towards the door. “Well, I’ll be off then. See you around Jaehee.” He pauses to shoot you a patronizing wave, the tone of his voice switching to a more sing-songy one as he says, “Bye Y/N~”

 You roll your eyes (loudly), shaking your head. “Just go.”

 His eyes crinkle just a little more at your deadpan comment, making his cheeks become rounder than usual. It makes him look very much like that little Bao from the Pixar short film.

 Oh no….

 You bite down on your lip as subtly as you can because you feel the itch of your lips quirking up at the thought. No, no, no, no, no! The little animated bao is way cuter than Jimin—Your Jimin— THIS GUARDIAN DEMON JIMIN DANG IT!

 Thankfully, obviously-not-cute-gurdian-demon Jimin leaves with that shit-eating grin still on his face before he can catch you red handed. You sigh out heavily once the door clicks shut, temples throbbing with an oncoming headache. You hear Jaehee laugh again, giving you a good shake before she walks off to clean up the mugs.

 “You two already seem like an old married couple.”

 You splutter, rushing after her to adamantly reply, “W-What are you talking about?! I’ve only known him for...” You pause to count, “A month and half now?”

 She shoots you a look from the sink before turning back around with a fox-like smile to herself. “Yeah, but you’re awfully comfortable already.”

 You huff, taking your place beside her to rinse the washed dishes. Jaehee gives you a gentle nudge with her shoulder, playful in a way that you pick up the message she’s trying to convey. You know she means no harm by it, but the fact of the matter is that she still has no idea of the bigger picture behind this Jimin look-alike, aka Julien (as the demon himself so affectionately named).

 “I really think he’s a nice guy, and you seem like you’re fond of him.” Jaehee says, “Bonus points is the fact that he looks like your celebrity crush. I mean how lucky is that?”

 “Super.” You reply, can’t help the sarcasm leaking through your words. It causes Jaehee to snort.

 “Okay, okay I’ll stop. But even though I think he’s a nice guy and that you should totally date him—“

 “Hey!”

 “If anything happens, ‘cus guys are just stupid like that, you tell me and I’ll go beat him up for you okay?”

 You highly doubt that would be possible, but you appreciate the sentiment. Still, you suppose a small part of you is glad that Jaehee’s basically given you her blessings if you so, hypothetically, decide to date Jimin. Not that you would ever because that’s just weird and wrong but like you know, the feeling is nice…. what are you even saying?! Ugh, you need to sleep.

 You and Jaehee finish up quickly and bid each other goodnight before heading off to your respective rooms. Your mind is set on taking a nice, refreshing shower to clear your thoughts and also pamper yourself a bit. The thought makes you smile as you shuffle around your room to grab a new set of PJs and pull out fresh underwear from your drawer.

 “Interesting colour choice, though I prefer baby blue.”

 “Jesus!” You jump back with a hand clutched to your chest, gaze whipping to the source of the voice.

 “Ddaeng.” Jimin chimes as he climbs down from his perch on your dresser drawer.

 “Don’t,” You grab the closest thing to you — which is your cat plushy— and angrily chuck it in his direction but he effortlessly leans out of the line of fire and the poor thing smacks into your wall of posters behind him. “Do that!”

 “Not my fault you’re so faint hearted.” He grabs the abused plushy and holds it out to you with a snide smile. Heat flushes your cheeks rapidly but you still swipe it away from him, using it as a shield to hide your intimate wear instead as you glare him down.

 “What do you want now?”

 “I just came here to let you know that I approve of your friend and therefore, won’t be staging her demise any time soon.”

 “You—Wha…” You’re flabbergasted, mouth moving but failing to articulate any real words until you give your head a slight shake as if to physically knock yourself back to your senses. “W-Why does that even matter? I would’ve exorcised you myself if you so much as touch a hair on her.”

 Jimin lets out a hearty laugh with a toss of his head (which you promptly shush him for, nearly sending the plush toy in your hands flying at him again but stopping last minute because you’re also holding your underwear).

 “Yeah, alright princess. But I meant it when I said that it would be beneficial for us if I got acquainted with your friends.” He strides over to your full-length mirror and proceeds to fluff his hair in front of it, continuing to speak to you off-handedly all the while, like Narcissus gazing as his reflection in the pond. “That way I can keep better tabs on you when I’m not around.”

 You give pause to the last part of his statement, nose scrunching in confusion. “Wait why wouldn’t you be around? — Don’t you even dare.”

 He closes his mouth to smirk instead at your warning through the mirror, and you actually see him toying with the idea of commenting on your question for a few moment. Eventually though, he chooses not to but not without having to bite his lower lip to hold himself back. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes.

 “I meant as in aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon? So, doesn’t that mean you have to stick by me most, if not, all the time?”

 “Alas, I am not your personal Cerberus to wait on your every beck and call.” Jimin sighs, spinning on his heels to give you a pouting, tearful expression; like it’s the most devastating piece of news he has to tell you. “As long as you’re not in harm’s way, my job as guardian is being fulfilled as far as I’m concerned.” He saunters over to you until you have to crane your neck up to look him in the face. The substantial height difference seems to amuse him, his smile growing wider as he looks down on you.

 “Besides my darling homebody, I am a creature of the night; so naturally, I’d rather be spending my time lurking in dark corners and preying on poor, forsaken souls.”

 Ugh, you should’ve known. Of course his idea of fun would be to terrorize people but as messed up as it is, he’s got a point; who are you to tell him he can’t just because he’s your guardian? The contract (and the oath he gave you) really does only state that as long as he keeps you safe and no harm comes to you under his watch, he’s doing his job perfectly. You breathe out heavily, like a parent begrudgingly giving into their rebellious teen’s questionable antics. You can take the demon out of hell, but you can’t take the hell out of a demon you suppose.

 “Just— don’t do anything stupid okay? Like something that would get you arrested because I don’t have the money to bail you out.” You groan out exasperatedly, headache coming back with a vengeance. You could really go for that steaming hot shower and cucumber facial mask right about now.

 Jimin grins, crescent eyes and all but says nothing in response to your ultimatum as he begins to back away from you, hands behind his back like a mischievous little boy who’s taken the last cookie from the cookie jar and blamed it on his little brother, no remorse whatsoever.

 “Jimin—“ You begin, trying to sound stern but it ends off sounding like a whine of desperation. You seriously don’t have money to bail him out if he gets arrested!

 “Don’t miss me too much!” He sings and in a wispy cloud of black smoke, he’s gone before you can attempt a choke hold on him; leaving no trace of his insufferable being other than the fading sounds of his delighted cackling.

 After a few moments of counting backwards from ten, your head lops back, letting your gaze bore into the ceiling as if to address an invisible security camera watched by God or whoever was up there in a very ‘The Office’ like fashion. Maybe you should consider going to the church to repent for your sins…. or maybe this is the divine punishment itself; being stuck with an annoying demon who ironically looks like your idol crush like your own special kind of hell.

 Whatever it is, the Lord is really testing you.

 You miraculously make it to the shower without any further incident. You triple check that Jimin won’t be appearing any time soon to give you another one of his surprise visits before stripping your clothes and hopping into the shower, turning the water setting to a searing hot temperature. Times like these you wished you had a Jacuzzi to relieve your stress and tense muscles in, but all you have is aromatherapy and self-spa care. It still does the trick so you’re not complaining. You reach for your body wash and upon flicking it open; the familiar smell of lavender-vanilla washes over you and almost immediately, your mind thinks to a certain demon.

 You reel for a second, contemplating whether or not you should change your body wash but find that the more you think about other possible alternatives, no other scent calms you like lavender-vanilla does.

 Even if it also reminds you of him.

 -

 Jimin does as he says he would. For the next few weeks or so, you find that he’ll vanish during most hours of the night, only to turn up at random times during the day to check in on you (read: pester and make sure you haven’t gotten yourself killed). Sometimes he doesn’t appear until you’ve come home from work or school but then sometimes you’ll see him leave the same night and then show up bright and early the next day when you wake up. He stops by as ‘Julien’ from time to time as well (much to Jaehee’s delight and your chagrin, you swear he does that just to keep you on your toes).

 But in spite of his teasing and poking, there are days where you come home absolutely drained from a long or particularly bad day, you’ll find sweets like chocolate or a steaming cup of tea sitting on your desk. At first you thought it was Jaehee but then after some careful reconsiderations (that involves you trying to weasel your way out of one awkward conversation of, ’thanks for the chocolates…Oh you never got chocolates…Maybe I forgot I had chocolates haha oops! I must be getting old! Haha never mind!’), you accept that it might possibly be from your not-as-annoying-when-he-chooses-to-be demon.

 Bah, you scoff to yourself as you fish your keys out of your pocket. Why are you getting so worked up over who gave you the chocolates? You’re a simple person, and chocolate is chocolate no matter what (unless they’re marzipan or mint, you will never understand them). It’s been another long day and all you can think about is taking a steaming hot shower and curl up into your comforter to binge watch those two episodes of RUN! BTS that you missed. So as soon as you unlock the front door, you fling your shoes off and drag your feet to your room, pushing open the door unceremoniously with the sole of your foot.

 You freeze mid-step when you spot a dark figure hunching over your desk. It takes a second for you to catch your nerves, hand falling away from your chest that you had unknowingly brought up from being startled.

 “Geez, you scared me! Aren’t you supposed to be lurking the night like Batman or some...thing….“

 The sentence fizzles out past your lips as you watch the figure straighten to their full height. It shouldn’t have been alarming, only it is because whoever this is is clearly not your guardian. For one they are noticeably taller, as well as a little broader in places you’re not used to seeing on Jimin like in the shoulders. But despite that, they still taper down to a rather impossibly slim waistline, made visibly known thanks to them tucking their cobalt blue silk shirt into their pants. On top of the longer legs, you see the straining of muscled thighs against tight black jeans that you think would even rival Jimin’s; actually they might even beat out Jimin’s because you remember his thighs being thick (let’s not discuss how), but you don’t think they were that thick.

 Yeah, definitely not Jimin.

 As if that wasn’t obvious enough, the figure turns around to face you and you finally see his face. Big doe eyes, large nose and a toothy bunny-like smile make up this youthful, handsome face as he catches sight of you before taking a bite out of your chocolate bar. You stagger back, not believing it.

 “Hello poppet.” Jeon Jungkook grins at you.

A/n: Jungkook shoot dances his way into battle!

[langdons-rep]

Playthings - Part Six (Michael Langdon x Dark!Witch reader x Duncan Shepherd)

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5

Plot: you and Michael arrive at Outpost 3 and have the pleasure of getting to know the infamous Duncan Shepherd. 

Warnings: michael x reader intercourse, oral sex (reader receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, spanking, michael touches himself lol

a little note: ok first of all, i deeply apologize for the long wait i put you through 🤧 i don’t really like this chapter as it can come off as a bit boring but i feel like it’s needed, in order to understand better the dynamic between the three. and last but not least, THANK YOU for following up this story and putting up with me despite my slow updates. i promise i’ll do better! also, i’ve waited to post this on my birhtday because i’m that extra. but anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you think of it, i love hearing your thoughts and opinions! 💛

“What happened last night must remain between the three of us. Also, I hope you know that just because we had a sexual intercourse it doesn’t mean that you have a secured place at the Sanctuary. You’re still on the same level as everyone else here.” You say while sitting in front of Duncan with Michael listening carefully beside you. The brunette pinches the bridge of his nose, a smug grin taking over his features. “Sexual intercourse? Baby girl, I fucked your brains out.” He chuckles as Michael tightens the grip on your thigh. You roll your eyes, “That was a one time thing. It didn’t mean anything.” Duncan’s mocking smile grows wider, “What a shame. I thought we could have some more fun together.” You raise your eyebrows, considering his words, “You thought wrong.” “Really, Y/N?” He asks with his ever present grin, and you hate to admit how much you enjoy hearing your name rolling off his tongue. “Really, Duncan.” You confirm as you place your hand over Michael’s. Duncan’s eyes follow the movement, watching how his smile dies down at the act while yours grows out of satisfaction. “Are you two together?” He asks brazenly. Even though you and Michael expected such questions, you can't help but exchange an awkard look. “We’re just friends.” You say in unison, trying to sound as impassive as you can. Duncan cackles, “Just friends? Is that what you call it?” He darts his tongue out to wet his lips before continuing. “Does that makes us just friends too?” His eyes are gleaming with mischief and you have to fight against the biggest urge to slap him. “You can leave now", you say quickly, earning an averse look from Michael. Duncan leans his back on the chair and crosses one leg over the other, purposely making himself even more comfortable. “Already?” He teases with a grin while his hands rest on his muscular thighs. “Why don’t you let me ask you a few more questions before I leave?” You furrow your brows, “We won’t allow you to do that.” “No.” Michael interrupts sharply, making you look at him with a confused expression, “Let him. I want to hear them.” You turn to Duncan, whom of course is smiling triumphantly, and then back to Michael. “Are you…are you sure?” You inquire, still not knowing what he’s aiming to. It’s in moments like this that you wish you had his mind-reading ability. Michael shrugs nonchalantly, “Why not?” “Guess I’m winning here, princess.” Duncan speaks, making you focus your stare on him. Before you can say anything back, he talks again. “What are you exactly?” You bite your lip at his question, turning to face Michael who’s still looking at Duncan. “She’s a witch, but you already knew it.” The blond gets that for you, making your breath hitch; Duncan doesn’t flinch one bit at the revelation as his expression turns into a serious one. He turns to Michael, “Do you have powers too?” His lips curve upward at the question, “I do.” You can basically see Duncan’s gears working together as he knits his eyebrows, “Are you a warlock?” Michael snickers, “Not quite.” You suck your teeth as you look over him. He’s not going to tell him he’s the Antichrist, right? “I’m the Antichrist.” Oh shit. Duncan’s mouth parts slightly, his brows are furrowed as he looks between you two. “That’s a joke, right?” His question is followed by an uneasy laugh, but Michael is dead serious. Your chest heavies up and down as you wait for your best friend to answer; Michael senses your sudden anxiety and squeezes your hand, tangling your fingers together. Duncan gazes at him, looking for any sign of lie, and then Michael’s voice brings him out of his daze.

“Are you scared?” The brunette blinks a few times before abruptly standing up from the chair. He starts pacing back and forth, Michael watches him with a satisfied grin while you remain silent, a strange perturbation worms its way into your stomach as you can’t imagine what Michael’s revelation will lead to. “How is that possible?” Duncan talks to himself with his arms stretched wide. “You are telling me that Rosemary’s baby sucked my fucking dick?” He keeps rambling and the shock in his eyes is evident. Michael is the only composed person in the room, "Apparently." Duncan stops his pacing to look at him, “Why did you tell me?” You cross you arms, “Yeah Michael, why?” What the fuck is he trying to prove? He smiles at you, then stands up. “He wanted answers and I provided them.” He just says as he slowly circles around the desk, his fingers gently running over the wooden surface; Michael faces Duncan with his hands clasped around his back. One thing you learned about the youngest Shepherd is that he doesn’t back away, no matter how unsettling the situation is. That’s why he doesn’t falter one bit under the Antichrist’s intense stare. “You’re not going to tell anything Duncan, are you?” “Excuse me? You’re the fucking Antichrist, now I know for sure you didn’t come here to save—” It happens quick and fast: the whole room turns dark and a bone-crashing cold engulfs your body, and a moment later you see Duncan falling on the floor: Michael had just showed him his demon face and you knew for a fact that wasn’t exactly the prettiest picture. You frown as you immediately rise from your chair, going up to the two men. “Michael, what the fuck are you doing?” Coming to Duncan Shepherd’s defense is the last thing you want to do, but it felt necessary at this point. “I wanted to give him a warning, my dear.” You look over Duncan who’s still on the floor; his mouth agape and eyes blown with shock. “Are you okay?” You can tell Duncan’s taken aback by your unexpected concern as he watches you with a confused stare, “I am.” You point your index at him as you mentally cast a spell on the brunette, the magic in your veins passes through your finger until it's flowing out. Duncan is enveloped by a warm energy that helps him get up from the floor, his slight pains from the fall suddenly vanished. You nervously bite your lip as you realize you just made a gesture of care for Duncan Shepherd. “Thank you.” He says, his voice filled with surprise. You don't reply, and then Michael breaks the silence once again. “I like you, Duncan Shepherd.” He states, inching closer to Duncan to let his hand run through his messy mop of curls. He fixes it, pushing it off his face as it was before he scared him off. “So selfish, so rough, so fearless", his knuckles brush on Duncan’s cheek, “I think you’d be perfect to our cause.” Duncan’s eyes widen, “What cause are we talking about here?”? “Michael, care to explain what the fuck are you saying?” You angrily ask, shrinking from the way he’s leaving you out of this. “Y/N, he’s perfect for the new world we are building. He’s everything we are searching for.” Michael’s eyes are sparkling with euphoria, meanwhile yours are blurred by an intense confusion. “I wasn’t aware that we were searching for arrogant assholes who have more money than self respect.” This wasn’t your plan. Duncan Shepherd was not supposed to be a part of your plan. You and Michael came here to do your duty: proclaiming yourselves as the saviors the inhabitants were waiting for, killing them one by one and then leave. Yes, you had sex with him, some fucking amazing sex indeed, but that cannot be a justification to keep him. Though you have to admit, the thought of killing Duncan Shepherd both excited and saddened you. You wanted nothing more than to slit his throat and be the one that makes him exhale his last breath, but on the other hand, you can still feel him between your legs and secretly long for that connection at least one more time. Duncan chides in, “You fucking bitch.“ “You both stop.” Michael says in a firm, deep tone, making you both look at him. “You’ll be coming with us to the Sanctuary. Do not talk about our decision with anyone or we won’t hesitate to kill you on the spot. Act like you don’t know us. This is all we’re asking for.” The Antichrist announces, leading your mouth to fall open. “We? Why are you talking like I’m ok with this?” You raise your voice as Duncan contemplates his words. Michael ignores you as he awaits for the brunette’s approval. “Let’s say that I agree to this. That I’m willing to come with you. What’s your plan? You talked about a cause. What is it about? And what do I gain from it?” Of course someone like Duncan Shepherd won’t do a thing unless it benefits him. Michael grins charmingly, “All you need to know is that we need people, the right people, to rebuild the new world. What you’re gaining from it is power, and there’s nothing you love more than that, right? Even more than money. You are a leader, Duncan Shepherd. And most importantly, you are no Saint. You don’t even believe in God, but you believed me the second I told you who I was. You believe in evil, in the art of manipulation. You are just like us.” Michael blurts out, still holding Duncan’s stunned gaze. You shake your head in disfavour, catching the brunette’s attention who seems to be the only one acknowledging your presence. He towers over you, a satisfied grin growing over his features. “Have something to say, princess?” You flash him a raging stare the moment he brings one hand to your face, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You take his palm off of you and then look over Michael, “I don’t agree with this.” Michael scoots closer until he’s standing beside you, “Deep down you do”, he states, making Duncan chuckle. “Deep down, uh?” The brunette grabs your chin to make you look at him as his other arm wraps around the small of your back to press you against his body. You watch him with a heavy breathing as he leans into you and takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling hard and then letting go. Michael hums lowly at the sight, leading Duncan to focus back on him. “I’m in.” - It’s been a week since Michael asked Duncan to take part in your plan. And it’s been a week since he agreed to it. During the whole time, you watched the two grow closer and closer while you stayed behind, still skeptical about Duncan’s role in this. Michael told him everything: The Cooperative, the witches, even his beloved Ms. Mead, and you clearly remember how the Antichrist fought back his tears on the last topic; as mad as you were, you know how delicate that one is for him, and you couldn’t just stand there listening. So, on that day, you put your rage in a corner and took place beside him, running a hand through his blond locks before leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. Duncan was watching you intently and...was it jealousy what he felt? No, of course not. Not that he cared, he tried to convince himself, but why couldn’t you be like that with him too? He exhaled loudly before turning his gaze back on Michael, trying to archive those no-sense feelings. The Antichrist told him about the poisoned apples plan as well, and on that day you purposely made a joke about how you thought that Duncan should take a bite from one of them just to see if they’re deadly enough; you clearly remember how the brunette responded to your taunt by slamming you against the wall, promising that he’ll punish you for real for running your mouth like that. You recall using your magic to push him off of you, blurting a sincere “fuck off” before leaving him alone with Michael. That was your last interaction with Duncan as you made it your first priority to be as far away from him as possible, since Michael is doing the exact opposite. The Antichrist's fondness over the brunette is what really throws you off, he's completely fascinated and entranced by him; you can’t deny the pang of jealousy washing over you whenever you’d realize how comfortable he had grown in such little time with Duncan. Not even a week ago he was cringing at you, screaming and almost choking you to death for proposing a threesome with Duncan Shepherd, and now he's head over fucking heels for the rich republican. Your resentment only increased whenever you walked in on Michael sucking Duncan off, and even though they asked you to join on more than one occasion, you always refused; your pride was stronger than your lust. Michael tried to get intimate with you every night for the whole week. Just the two of you alone, like it was before he came along, late at night when Duncan would sleep in his room and Michael would sneak into yours. You turned him down each time, telling him “to go to Duncan instead” and he would stay silent at your answer. He knew you needed time to process this, just like he knew how mad you were knowing that he took decisions without consulting you first; but Michael would have never proposed it if he didn’t perceive that you would eventually be okay with it. He’s the Antichrist, after all, and he can read right through people; he knows you like the back of his hand and he’s well aware of the fact that you just need to get adjusted to the new situation. Just like he's sure that underneath those nasty glares you give to Duncan every once in a while, you are secretly thrilled by the idea of having him engaged in your cause. Michael, however, couldn’t hush up anymore. “Y/N.” He calls you once he lays on your bed, your back facing him. No answer, but he knew you weren’t sleeping. “We need to talk.” He plops on one elbow as he stretches his other hand forward, his fingers gently stroking your arm up and down. He feels your skin shivering and that’s when he realizes how much he missed you; he leaves a tender kiss on your bare shoulder as he inhales the sweet honey scent of your hair. “You know I won’t ever replace you, right?” He whispers in your ear, wrapping his arm around your stomach. You sigh, and he leaves another kiss on your cheek. “You are my person, nothing will ever change that.” He mutters, making your lips quirk up slightly. You turn on your back, finally facing him, “I know. And you know that’s the same for me.” You brush off a few locks falling off his face and he smiles at you, leaning down to leave a peck on your lips. “He likes you more than he will ever admit.” Michael confesses, and you know he’s referring to Duncan. You roll your eyes, being fed up of the usual "Duncan this, Duncan that" talk. Michael's lips trail on your neck, biting and licking their way down, "You two are so much alike", he comments, and you shudder at the way his raspy-voiced words vibrate on your skin. You laugh through soft whimpers, “Please, we are really not.” Michael slides the straps of your nightgown down as he leaves languid kisses on your newly exposed shoulders, “You are.” You don't answer, his mouth is making you feel so good that you can't bother to think about the brunette, even if he's the topic of the conversation once again. Michael suddenly stops and levels his face up with yours, “Duncan and I had sex.” “Oh, really? I thought he was doing a check at your tonsils the moment I walked in on him having his cock down your throat.” You say with a sarcastic smile, earning a roll of his beautiful blue eyes. His thumb strokes your cheek, “It was good, but something was missing.” You furrow your brows as he continues, “You were missing. I could feel it in Duncan’s thoughts how much he wanted you to be there. And I felt the same way. It’s not the same without you”, he admits. “How cute.” You quip with a sigh. “I mean it.” He insists, an earnest look plastered over his face. You buff out, looking everywhere but him, acting like a petulant child who just doesn't want to listen. “You are the one who wanted him first.” Michael reminds you, but there’s no taunting in his tone. His gentleness, though, doesn’t stop you from giving him a dirty look. 

“That was one time, Michael.” “You still want him", his tone is decisive, "You just won’t allow yourself to admit that.” “Yeah, and so what? Are we just going to let him come with us to the Sanctuary, let him rule the new world with us, and then we buy a house and live happily ever after all three of us together?” He grins widely, “Why not?” You furiously blink your eyes at him as your mouth falls agape. Are your ears hearing correctly? “Do you think this is fucking High School Musical, Michael?” He snorts, “You’re always too dramatic.” “I’m just being realistic.” He leans down on your face, “He craves you just as much as I do”, he says before locking your lips with his own. His right hand gropes your breast through the thin dress and you arch your back as he climbs on top of you. “And I know you crave him just as much as you crave me.” You feel his smile on your mouth, his hand slides down your body, his digits lightly grazing on your clothed core. “We need him.” He says before sucking a mark on your collarbone as his fingers slip past your underwear. You roll your eyes, “More like, you need his cock.” “Don’t you too, baby girl?” His rhetorical question takes you off guard as his breath fans over your face. You feel him rubbing circles on your clit, “I fucking missed this”, he groans as his head dips down; his hands spread your legs apart and you shiver when you feel him licking a long stripe on your still covered cunt. You buck your hips up, “Fuck, Michael.” “Always so sensitive.” He points out, flashing you a bright smile. He kisses your clit through your underwear and you feel your panties wettening from Michael’s teasing licks and your own arousal. His thumb slowly rubs you up and down as he starts to cover your inner thighs with lazy kisses, his teeth occasionally sinking down on your skin in an almost animalistic way. You bite your mouth as you watch him finally pulling your underwear down, leading him to lick his lips at the sight. “Such a pretty pussy.” Michael lewdly remarks as his hot breath hits your heat; his fingers spread apart your folds, his tongue instantly tasting you with a long, slow lick, until his lips close around your clit and eagerly suck on it. You just can’t control your moans when he’s eating you out like this. Michael is very skilled with his mouth, as he is with anything he does, and your thoughts instantly go to Duncan; you think about his face scrunched up in pleasure whenever you walked in on Michael giving him a blowjob, how blissful he probably felt, just like you right now. The Antichrist grins at your thoughts before plunging his tongue deep inside you, his eyes intensely locked on your face. You squirm on the bed as he starts to tongue-fuck you, driving him to hold your hips down on the mattress. “Tastes so fucking sweet.” He whispers before dipping two long fingers inside your heat, “Duncan would fucking love it.” Of course he’d bring him in. "Can you shut up about him? Just for once?" Your voice is weak and thick with desire as Michael looks up at you with a simper, his mouth glistening with your arousal. He presses kisses up your stomach, on your still covered breasts, before his face comes in your view. His hand wraps around your throat as his lips nibble your ear, "Why don't you shut me up with that sweet cunt of yours?" You bite your mouth and before you can reply, his lust-filled voice steps in again. "Sit on my face." A cocky grin is plastered over his face as you moan at his command, pushing on his chest and rolling on his waist instead. You hold the the edges of your night attire in one hand while Michael's impatient ones grip your hips in a vice-like hold, his rings digging into your skin as he encourages you to straddle him further. He slides his arms around your hips as you lower your soaked core on his awaiting tongue, the Antichrist instantly closes his eyes as he deeply savours you with slow, long licks. Your hands tangle in his hair, pull it at the roots, and he moans at the act; the sound earning a firm, careful grind of your hips on his face. You throw your head back as his palm comes down on your ass. "That's it", he says through muffled grunts, "Grind on my fucking tongue." You start rocking your hips back and forth while Michael's slaps multiply by the second, the stinging sensation only adding more to the pleasure. He's grunting and panting against your cunt, one hand leaves your hip to trail down his stomach and palm his hard cock through his trousers. You turn your head back to follow his motion, "Are you touching yourself for me, babe?" Michael moans at your words, his tongue juts in and out of your entrance as obscene slurping sounds fill the room, his name leaving your mouth in loud and needy whimpers. Michael's greedy lips suck on your clit while your hands flatten on the wall ahead, your orgasm building up by the second; you look down at him, taking in the sight of the Antichrist lapping up your juices with his eyes closed, feasting on your cunt like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. With one last cry out, you let go of your release as an overwhelming bliss takes over your body, your cunt pressing and fervidly grinding on Michael's hungry mouth. "That's it, cum all over my mouth", he whimpers, "give me a proper taste of yourself." He licks up everything you have to give, not letting you get off of him until he's sure he collected every drop of your sweet release. By the time you lay beside him, your legs feel numb and shaky, and you are fighting hard to regain your breath. It's always like this when Michael eats you out. He cups your face, his lips are on you again as you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan out, "I missed you." Michael looks at you with longing eyes and his lips curve upward at your confession. "I missed you too, pet."

Taglist: @ritualmichael @queencocoakimmie @sammythankyou @langdonsdemon @langdonscody @lovelykhaleesiii @duncvn @satansapostle @heyworld07 @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning-deac @gerkatherine @pink----matter @xtheinevitableprophecyx @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lustforfern @stupidocupido @1-800-bitchcraft @chocolateandhorror 

[madboxwithagirl]

Deserving

Author’s Note: Finally, I’m getting back to working on all of my requests! Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this. I hope that you’re still around and that you like it!

Prompt: Lets get some angst with 20 and 34 for ten please! - Anon

20: “Please don’t hurt me like this.”

34: “I don’t deserve to be loved.”

Summary: Despite all of the terrible things he has done, you still managed to fall in love with the Doctor. You still feel the need to care for and help him in his times of need. The Doctor, however, doesn’t believe that he is worthy of your kindness.

Warnings: Angst, crying, yelling, depression, mentions of death

Words: 3,016

How you let yourself fall for the Doctor, you would never know. You had told yourself from the very beginning that you would not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to feel anything more than feelings of friendship towards the Time Lord. And, for a time, you had managed to avoid feelings of affection. He was an alien who was nearly one thousand years older than you, and those two reasons themselves should have been enough to keep you from loving him. You constantly tried to find flaws in the man, hoping to find one big enough to completely suppress any future feelings.

And yet, you could pinpoint the exact moment you realized you had failed. And, at that very same time, that flaw that you had so desperately wanted to find was the one that made you fall. The day he opened up to you and told you of his crimes, spoke of the atrocities he committed against his own kind, the many lives stolen away by his hands; that was the day that you found that you loved the Doctor.

You should have felt anger and fear from his words. You should have demanded to be taken home, your hands wrapping around whatever weapon you could find, protecting yourself from the killer in front of you. You tried to make yourself hate him and what he had done, but you just couldn’t do it. The man he described was not who was in front of you. In that moment, the person in front of you was a wondrous being, a creature who had fought tooth and nail to save as many others as he possibly could. He was the man who had saved you time and time again from unspeakable horrors, who had sacrificed himself for the sake of others, who had tried to bring hope and happiness to those who needed it most. He wasn’t a monster or a demon. No, not to you. To you, he was the hero plagued with survivor’s guilt and the years of misunderstandings from his actions. He was your friend. And you loved him.

You enjoyed traveling with the Doctor and you knew that you wouldn’t leave unless he completely forced you away, but having to hide your love for him hurt. All you wanted was to wrap your arms around his neck, pull him in for a passionate kiss, and tell him that you loved him. You wanted to go on fun dates to strange places throughout the galaxy, even if the dates turned out horribly wrong and you had to defend the planet from certain doom. But that’s how you knew it would end up being. A normal life? With the Doctor? Not possible.

He seemed so oblivious to your feelings towards him. Or, if he knew, he never said a word about it. Your hugs began to last longer, you never wanting to be released from his safe embrace. You would get him little trinkets that you thought he would enjoy, completely unprompted. When he felt like the universe was crushing his soul, you were there to alleviate some of the pain. If he had noticed anything, he probably just believed that you wanted to comfort him as a friend, nothing more.

You hugged your pillow close to you, letting out a soft growl into it. You had to stop thinking about him in that way. No matter how much you wished for you and the Doctor to become a thing, you knew that it simply wasn’t possible. You needed to get over him and move on, no matter how much it hurt to do so. You knew that it would an arduous task, but you were certain that you could do it in due time.

Dropping the pillow, you hopped off of your bed and decided to go and find the object of your affection. You hoped that a trip somewhere would serve as a suitable distraction. You left your room and whipped up an award-winning smile on your way to the console room. It, however, quickly faded when you saw your friend leaning against the console, tears rushing down his cheeks.

“Oh, Doctor,” you softly said. His head snapped up as he heard your voice, his hands rapidly pawing at his face to wipe away the tears despite knowing that you had already seen them. “Hey, it’s alright. Come here.” You slowly made your way over to him, arms outstretched, ready to envelop him in a comforting hug like you always did. This time, instead of him accepting your warm embrace, he rushed away from you, refusing to be touched. Your concern multiplied at this; he never refused your hugs. In fact, he usually welcomed them wholeheartedly. “Doctor? Doctor, tell me what’s wrong,” you said as you followed him.

“Please, just let me be,” he replied, his voice full of sorrow. He wouldn’t even look at you, opting instead to keep his back turned to you. In all of your time with the Doctor, of all of the times that you had been there for him when he broke down, he had never acted in such a way. Sure, he would avoid speaking about it for as long as he could, but he would always look at you or touch you in some way. Knowing that something was especially wrong, you went over to him again, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Doct-“

“Stop it!” He suddenly turned around, a mixture of anger and despair in his eyes. You instinctively stepped back, shocked by his outburst.

“What? Doctor what are you-“

“Just stop it! Stop acting like I deserve your help! Stop acting like everything is fine! For once, just leave me be!” Tears continued to stream down his face as he yelled at you, his voice cracking the more he went on. “You act like I deserve to be comforted, cared for, wanted. I don’t! After all of the things I’ve done? After what I did to Gallifrey? After all of the pain I’ve caused? I don’t deserve this.” His hands began to tug at his hair as he began to pace, trying to keep from losing himself any further.

You simply stood there and watched, stunned by what you had just witnessed. The Doctor feeling guilty wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In fact, you were quite used to it. What you weren’t used to, though, was the yelling, especially not at you. No matter how angry or upset he got, he never once directed it at you. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Despite your fear of being yelled at again, you approached him and placed your hands on both of his shoulders, forcing him to stop his pacing.

“Listen to me Doctor. Are you listening?” He looked into your eyes and nodded, the anger having long left his own brown ones. “I wouldn’t be helping you if I didn’t feel like you deserved it, alright? I’ve been traveling with you for ages, Doctor. I’ve seen all of the wonderful things you’ve done. You’ve saved so many lives, given people second chances at life, helped them move forward. You’ve nearly lost your life more times than I can count, just so that others can continue on.” You moved a hand up to wipe away his tears. He dropped his hands from his head as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, savoring the moment.

“You’re an amazing creature, Doctor. I wouldn’t trade away the time I’ve spent with you for anything in the universe. You’ve taught me so many valuable lessons. You’ve shown me places that I could only dream of. You’ve given me so many beautiful memories to cherish. The least I can do is be your shoulder to lean on when you need it. You deserve it, alright?” He opened his eyes and looked at you, making your heart clench painfully in your chest. His old eyes seemed to hold even more pain in them than before. He looked so tired, like he had never once had a moment of rest in his very long existence. You pulled away from him, worried that your words had made things worse. You jumped in surprise as his hand shot up and grabbed your hand, keeping it on his cheek.

“Oh darling, you’re too good to me.” His voice wavered, the man in front of you doing everything in his power to not break down again. You rubbed your thumb across his cheek gently, trying to offer him some comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, your voice as gentle as your touches. He nodded and closed his eyes, composing himself. Then they opened again and stared into yours, into your very being.

“I was thinking earlier, as you know I do, and I found myself thinking about you. I think about you often, you know. And I thought about how kind you have been to me, how so unbelievably kind. More than is truly necessary. More than I deserve.” He put a finger up to your mouth, keeping you from countering his statement. “And the more I thought, the more I realized something. Oh, how long it took me to figure out, even with my big, huge, Time Lord brain. Why would you put so much effort into helping me? Even more than a friend would?” You took a sharp breath. He couldn’t have figured it out, could he? “There has only been a couple of times where someone has put in as much effort into me as you have. I get it now. I understand.” He backed away from you, your hand falling from his face. He turned his back towards you once more. “Why?” he croaked. “I don’t deserve to be loved.”

Tears that you didn’t realize were collecting began to slide down your cheeks, his words cutting you like knives. The broken being in front of you deserved love more than any other creature in the universe. He had been through so much, too much for one individual to handle on their own. He deserved a break. He deserved someone to love and to love him back. You walked forward and wormed your arms around him, resting your cheek on his back.

“Do you remember all of those things I said before? That’s why I love you. You are such an incredible person. I don’t think that the word “compassion” had nearly as much meaning to me until I met you. And while your big hearts are a huge reason as to why I love you, there’s so, so much more.” You unhinged your arms from him, prompting the Doctor to turn around and look at you as you spoke. Your eyes met, years of pain prominent in his.

“I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. Sometimes it’s because you say something that makes no sense to me whatsoever. Sometimes it’s because you say or do something legitimately hilarious. Sometimes it’s just because you do something stupid and I can’t help but laugh at your misfortune.” A small smile appeared on his face, unable to stop himself. You softly smiled back as you reached for one of his hands, your fingers intertwining immediately. “You’re so…open with me. I know how reserved you are, yet with me, it’s like you trust me with everything.” You paused, thinking about what you had just said. “You…trust me, more than you ever would with just a normal companion…right?” The hand not holding the Doctor’s went back to his cheek, caressing it. “I…You…” You trailed off as the Doctor mimicked you, his unoccupied hand resting against your cheek. Slowly, his head moved closer to yours, his eyes falling closed. Yours did the same as your lips met.

You had dreamed about kissing the Doctor for a very long time. You always imagined that it would be during a moment of peace, sitting on a hill and overlooking an impossible land. You would get caught up in the moment, both of you admitting your affections at the exact same time, by accident of course. You would lay upon the hard ground, finding comfort in the softness of one another as you shared passionate kisses. You would pull away, giggling for a moment before rushing back in for another taste.

This was nothing like that.

The kiss was reserved, full of uncertainty, like you were taking advantage of each other in a moment of emotional weakness. His body was shaking, partially because he was exhausted from his breakdown and partly because he was terrified that what you were doing was wrong. He held onto your cheek doubtfully, expecting you to pull away at any moment, realizing your mistake. You, on the other hand, were afraid that you were his little coping mechanism, there just to take away the pain when he felt it. Tears threatened to slip out of your closed eyes as you wearily kissed your best friend, hoping that you were just lying to yourself and weren't figuring out his true motives.

You separated slowly, lips still millimeters apart. Breath after breath fell onto your lips, the Doctor’s thoughts running wild in the moments following your parting. His eyes opened to take you in, wanting to be lost in your radiance like so many times before. Instead, he saw your now fallen tears, the fresh droplets collecting on your chin before descending to the floor. Some landed on the hand holding your face, making his hearts hurt more than they had throughout the entire exchange.

“Love? I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was thinking too much. I shouldn’t have just done that out of the blue. I’m so sorry. I should have asked. I don’t even know if you wanted to kiss me.” He rambled out apologizes, the guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. You loved him, sure, but what if you hadn't been ready to take that step forward? What if you didn’t even want something more with him? He might have just messed everything up between you and him. “Stupid Time Lord. Stupid idiot Time Lord,” he retracted from you, ready to hide away in his shell and stay there for an indefinite amount of time.

“Doctor,” you murmured, bringing him out of his self hate for a moment. Your eyes were still screwed shut, the tears showing no signs of stopping. “I…I need to know. Is this just an outlet? I love you, god do I love you, but I can’t just be a vice. So, please, be honest with me.” You opened your eyes and looked at him, his image blurred thanks to your tears. “Please, Doctor. Please don’t hurt me like this…” You wrapped your arms around yourself and bit your lip, attempting to stop the shaky sobs that wanted to escape your body.

His hearts shattered at your words, horrified that you believed such a thing. Yes, he was broken and wanted nothing more than to make the pain go away, but he could never imagine himself using you to reach that goal. If anything, he almost wished that you would leave his impossible box so you wouldn’t have the burden of caring for him when he couldn’t care for himself. Almost.

“Sweetheart.” His fingertips, gentle and careful, fell against your tear-soaked cheeks, wiping away the offending drops. “Never once have I thought of using you in any way. I’m so sorry that I’ve ever given that impression.” He leaned into you, resting his forehead against your own, taking comfort in your warmth. “You are such a radiant being. I’ve been to every corner of this universe and have never met anyone more brilliant than you. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you. I love you for your wit, your kindness, your heart. If I ever did something to make you believe that I would take advantage of you, then…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.” His voice wavered as he spoke, knowing that if he had misspoken, he would lose you.

He took a trembling breath as he felt you pull away from him, believing that his words had been wrong. His breathing all but stopped when he felt your lips against his again. Unlike the previous kiss, this one was full of confidence, your lips moving in perfect sync, like you were made for each other. Your chests were pressed together, three hearts beating together in harmony. Hands grasped onto anything they could, the need to hold onto one another overwhelming. When the kiss finally ended, pupils were dilated and lungs were begging for air. All you could think about was him, and all that ran through his mind was you. A tiny smile appeared on his lips, which you returned with delight.

“I love you,” you whispered, worried that if you spoke any louder, the magic of the moment would dissipate. A soft kiss was placed on your forehead, his breath tickling your face as he pulled back.

“And I love you, my dear, more than all of the stars and galaxies.” And you believed him. All doubts had washed away with his speech. You knew that he was telling the truth, that he would never do such a horrible thing to you. He loved you, and he intended on proving that to you every single day for the rest of your life. You lost yourself in him, his aura surrounding you with warmth and affection. You loved him with every fiber of your being.

“Come on,” you said, lacing your fingers with his. “Let’s go lie down. I think we both deserve a rest, don’t you think?” He gave you a small, warm smile, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I think we do.” And so you went, both of you embracing each other as you fell into a blissful rest, knowing that the future, while somewhat bleak at times, was going to be filled with a new, enrapturing light.

[laughinglistener]

114 Thoughts I Had While Reading ACOT&R

I’m late to the book party. Again. And after getting inspired by the million random numbered lists on Buzzfeed, I thought I’d entertain all the ACOTAR fans out there with a list of my own. 

Spoilers ahead people!

1. Good lord. Six minutes in and I. AM. CAPTIVATED. And she’s just describing snow?? WHAT IS THIS MAGIC?? 2. Oh my god. Thirty minutes in. Times like these I appreciate being an only child. All that fur and meat would be MINE. 3. “You can’t chop wood for us, but you want to marry a woodcutter's son??” HA!! YEAH!!! 4. Jeez, she paints too. I already love Feyre. #BadAssFemales 5. Ugh, does Feyre ever dump these sisters? Please say yes. I can’t stand them. 6. OH SHIT STICKS. He just busted in there like the Kool-Aid man.

7. Stop shouting “MURDERERS” wolf boy and use your words. WHAT IS HAPPENING. 8. YES. SHE’S GETTING AWAY FROM THE EVIL SISTERS!! I should NOT be this excited about Feyre getting kidnapped. 9. She kills this guy’s friend and her punishment is living in his crazy opulent mansion?? All right, good to know. Taking notes for a friend...  10. Did… Did wolf boy just turn into Adam from Beauty and the Beast????

11. This Lucien fellow is a sassy ginger and I don’t hate it.  12. Your hair is clean?? Is that flirting????  13. She made a rope trap! This girl is my hero. 14. Hearing that the evil disembodied voice is named “The Bogge” just makes me think of The Bog of Eternal Stench in Labyrinth. “LOOK AT MEEEEE” *Farts*

15. Her father is there?!? Oh god…  16. Ohhhhhh no, it’s a trap. Ohhhhhhh god. Ohhhhhhhhh jeez…  17. I KNEW IT. 18. The image I’m getting in my head of Tamlin is a strange mixture of Wolverine and Beast from the Disney movie. I’m very confusingly into it. 19. Homegirl is just walking around, casually asking how to trap fairy demon creatures. LOVE IT. 20. What is even happening?! She just casually trapped a fairy thing and gave it an interview! THIS BOOK IS AMAZING. OMFG. 21. “Dead chickens, my sagging ass. All you needed to do was offer it a new robe, and it would have groveled at your feet.” OFFICIALLY love Alis 22. Is it just me, or is the whole Tamlin’s-a-high-lord thing not that shocking of a revelation???? 23. “Is this a poem about murdering me and then burning my body?” LOL. I would very much like to hear that poem. 24. Ahhhhh this poor fairy without wings!!! JUST RIP MY HEART OUT. 25. Are you kidding me?!? IF ADAM FROM BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ASKS YOU TO SWIM IN A POOL OF FREAKING STARLIGHT, YOU DO IT!!!!!

26. OF COURSE the sassy ginger is a son to the Autumn court. #Fitting 27. Ahhhh he’s kissing her palm!!!!!! *Holds breath* 28. OH MY GOD, HE LEGIT WROTE POEMS WITH THE WORDS. I’M DYINGGGG!!!!!!  29. Ohhhhhhh god. Oh no. She’s going to the bonfires. Ohhhhhhhhhh lord.... Not good. 30. Ohhhh shiiiiiiiit!!!! The most beautiful man she’s ever seen! That’s always a promising statement in YA books. 31. No idea who the hell this cocky bastard is, but... I LIKE HIM. 32. Wtf??? 

“It will fill him with his sole purpose: to find the Maiden. From their coupling, magic will be released and spread to the earth, where it will regenerate life for the year to come.” 

Ummmmm... I repeat: Wtf????? 33. Hot DAYUM!! High Lord, you are DOING things to me with this little hallway biting display!!

34. SHE’S WEARING A DRESS!!! Ahhhh I’m having such a girl moment! 35. *Sobs* Oh my god, he took her winter painting and it was SO CUTE. MY HEART. IT’S MELTINGGGGGG!!! 36. Feyre acting all outraged at the suggestion of a kiss payment like she hasn’t been wanting it FOR AGES. Gurl, if you don’t kiss him I will. 37. Oh my god, there have been hordes of people around the whole time and she couldn’t see them?!? Ewwwww creepy...... 38. Ahahahaha my gurl is WASTED and it’s amazing. Drunk Feyre is the best! Where can I get me some of that fairy wine?? 39. I CANNOT TAKE THE ADORABLENESS OF THIS DAMN DANCING AND SUNRISE SCENE. *Explodes*

40. This morning after at the breakfast table! SWOON. 41. Whoa, wtf?? We were all so happy two seconds ago. 42. Hmmmmm... I get the feeling this Rhys guy isn’t as douchebaggy as he seems. Partly because I’ve seen too much fanart of him on the internet for Rhys to be a complete asshole. 43. Ohhhhhh crap. 44. Feyre doesn’t know what?! EXPLAIN YOURSELVES. WHAT’S. GOING. ON. 45. Whoa whoa whooooooa!! I take it back, this guy’s an asshat! Back off man!!! He’s stroking HER BRAIN. OMG. 46. Jeeeez did this lunch take a tailspin. Zero to death threats in sixty seconds flat... That should be a coffee mug. 47. Aaaaaaaand Tamlin is tearing up the dining room. Now I’m thinking of Beauty and the Beast again. He’s going all forbidden-west-wing on them. “GET OUUUUTTTTTTT!!!” 48. Ahhhhhh AND THIS is the part where Belle goes home and then has to go back to save Beast from Gaston right?? *Starts singing* “But we’re not coming home ‘till he’s dead! GOOD AND DEAD. KILL THE BEAST!”

49. It is REALLY pissing me off that no one is telling her what’s going on. Even if Feyre is going back home, you can explain what’s going on to help ease the burden!! To better protect herself!!! URGH. 50. Hot DAYUM that love scene!! *Desperately tries to collect self* 51. Awwww he said he loves her! *sobs* 52. I love Lucien. If he turns out to be a bad guy, I’m gonna be pissed. 53. Ewww this is weird. Helloooooooo terrible sisters… 54. Oh my god, Tamlin’s just over here making it rain on Feyre’s entire family. Good lord. 55. She’s giving the money away! YAYY!! I LOVE HER!!! 56. Ohhhhh shit. Poor Nesta. That actually really freaking sucks. 57. Awwww crap, I like her now. I can’t hate Nesta after this. And Elain is a sweetie. DAMN. 58. Wow. I just went from hating to loving Nesta so fast, I have whiplash. 59. Ohhhh crap!! She killed Clare! Bad day. 60. HOW CAN I LOVE NESTA THIS MUCH AFTER HATING HER?!?! 61. YASSSSSS QUEEN!! Ride and go get yo man! YASSSS!!!

62. Holy crap, this Amarantha is one sneaky bitch. Just casually drugging up everyone’s wine to steal all their powers. I am very stressed about meeting her. Very stressed.  63. SHE CARVED OUT HIS EYE WITH HER FINGERNAIL?!?!?!?! Not my Lucien!! 64. What?!?! WHAT?! Andras was out there as a set up to cure the curse?!? WHAT?!?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW??? I. AM. DYING. OH. MY. FREAKING. GOD.  65. Words cannot describe my absolute love and obsession with Feyre. LIKE SERIOUSLY. 66. Ohhhhh I am very stressed. She’s gonna get busted sneaking around these tunnel caves for sure. 67. Annnnnnnnnnnd there it is. 68. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god… 69. A bargain?!?! No no no no no no no.... 70. THIS ENTIRE THING IS KILLING ME. I AM DEAD. RIP ME. 71. Well. This should be fun to watch. 72. Not gonna lie, the finger eyeball ring is preeeeetty freaking bad ass. Just sayin. *Immediately searches Etsy* 73. Rhysand lied? Lied about which girl he saw in Tamlin’s dining room?? Interesting… 74. NO! LEAVE MY LUCIEN ALONE!! UGGGGGGH. 75. Ummm love?? Is the answer of the riddle love? HELLO. 76. “I took the liberty of learning a few things about you.” Ummmmmm, what the actual hell does that mean??? 77. IT’S A WORM?!?!?!?!? 

78. Come on gurl. KICK ASS!!!! 79. YASSSSS!!! OMG I’M SO EXCITED RIGHT NOW. KILL THE WORM!! *Crazily starts chanting* 80. Rhysand... hmmm... He intrigues me… 81. YEAH!! YES!! SHE DID IT!! OMFG YESS!!!!! 82. Let me guess. Rhysand was the one that bet she would win?? 83. Hahahaha wtf?! 

“For two weeks every month, two weeks of my choosing, you’ll live with me at the Night Court. Starting after this messy three-trials business.” 

Messy three-trials business?!? LOL! Oh my god, I’m back to loving this guy. 84. Tattoo! NICE!! 85. Huh. So the lady of the Autumn court isn’t a complete bitch. Good to know. 86. Why do I love this guy?! Rhys is a turd ball, but I can’t seem to help myself. 87. He has bat wings?!? That’s AWESOME. 88. My belongings?!?! Awwww HELL naw!! I take it back again. SCREW THIS GUY. 89. He gets her drunk and makes her dance?!? WHAT. THE. HELL. NOT MY GURL FEYRE. HELL NO.

90. NOOOOOO!!! Not Lucien!! Oh god! I don’t want to see him impaled. *Bites nails nervously* 91. Ohhhh no!! Poor Feyre! THIS SUCKS!!! 92. SHUT UP LUCIEN!! SHE’LL HAPPILY CHOOSE A LEVER WHEN YOU STOP YELLING AT HER!!! 93. Ugh, that was horrid. 94. Omg Tamlin!! They’re about to get it on in the medieval version of a broom closet.  95. Rhys the cockblocker. 96. Tamlin, just chill the hell out. Rhys was covering for your dumb ass. 97. “One wrong move tomorrow, Feyre, and we’re all doomed.” Oh, great freaking pep talk Rhys!! What a motivator! No pressure or anything. 98. Oh my god, they’re giving her the Hunger Games finger salute!

99. Ugh, poor Feyre. 100. THIS SCENE IS AGONY!!! 101. Uh oh. Amarantha has something else up her sleeve. I am STRESSED Y’ALL. 102. WHAT?!? IT’S TAMLIN????? WHAT?!?!?!? 103. Well hell, I’m confused now. 104. He has a heart of stone?? That sounds... heavy. 105. “‘I love you,’ I said, and stabbed him.” BEST CHAPTER ENDING I’VE EVER READ. 106. Ohhhhh SHIT Amarantha’s pissed! This hissy fit is right out of Housewives of Prythian!! 107. Ahhhh Rhys!! 108. IT WAS LOVE! HA HA!!! I KNEW IT!!!!! I CALLED IT FROM THE START!! HUMAN IGNORANCE MY ASS!! What do I win?! Do I get my own fairy high lord for solving the riddle?? That’s how this works right??? 109. Wait, is Feyre dead?? Is she a ghost now? This out of body ghost thing is all very Hamlet. 110. Whoa, Tamlin stabbed her IN THE HEAD. Effective. 111. Yay! Happy endings!! “But they can never take OUR FREEEEDOMMMMMMM!!!!”

112. Awww Rhysand!! 113. Wait, what? What the hell was that?? Rhysand doesn’t STUMBLE. 114. Book one complete! BOOK TWO. ME NEED NOW. AHHHHHHH!!!! *Froths at the mouth*

[unt2017]

Go Ask Alice by Anonymous

Genre: Biography/Autobiography

Image

 Evaluation/Response

           Sometimes I read a book and it stays in my mind a while I go through the process of trying to figure out how I feel about it. Go Ask Alice by Anonymous was one of those books. The topic was a tough one, but that wasn’t what got me most.  Drugs are a horrible demon that can ruin lives and families.  What I saw in looking back at my notes while reading is that a lot of what the narrator said did not make a lot of sense because the more she got into her drug use the faster her brain and thus her writing became which I found interesting, but it also made her more unrelatable.  According to our textbook Tunnell, Jacobs, Young & Bryan (2016) “Point of view is the position taken by the narrator.” (Tunnell et al., p. 19), and in this case the narrator has a first-person point of view because she uses I to describe herself, but I also sense that she would be considered an unreliable narrator because of the way her writing flows.   An example of this would be the following:

Besides, after what I’ve been through, I think I’d believe anything. Isn’t that sad, to be in a spot where everything is so unbelievable you’d believe anything? I think it’s sad, dear friend I really and truly and desperately do (Anonymous, 1971, p. 135).

While this quote seems to be written in a fashion that allows the reader to see the point of view of the narrator, I also see it as a piece of a puzzle that shows the narrator to be unreliable. On that note, this quote also gives the reader a look into pacing of the book as well.

This book seemed to be in disarray.  It is written in journal entries. I mean it was written relatively well as far as there being no errors in spelling.  Grammar is another matter, but I would expect as much from this type of narrator.  I believe the grammar and punctuation changes were part of the pacing problem.  According to Tunnell, Jacobs, Young & Bryan (2016) “Pacing is how quickly or slowly a story moves” (18). Without the standard editing, it made the pacing seem fast in certain places and regular in others. Although, the following quote doesn’t really show the pacing in the traditional sense, I believe it does in another way.  It shows the pacing of the character and their state of mind.   The narrator states “I don’t want to get old. I have this very silly fear, dear friend that one day I’ll be old, without ever having really been young” (Anonymous, 1971, p. 153).  While I can understand this statement as someone who has been a teenager and who is ultimately still growing and learning as a young adult, part of me read this statement with the character being an addict who tries to find justification for her mistakes instead of owning up to them.  I feel this is one of the times where the pacing makes sense because her mind was in the process of changing.

The last point that stood out to me was the tension. According to Tunnell et. al (2016) “Tension makes the reader want to read on to see how the conflict is resolved and what happens to the people involved in the problem” (19).  There are several different instances where the tension is noticeable, but I’m unsure if it has to do with the story or with the subject in which this book is tackling: drugs and the journey an addict goes on as they try to navigate their life after drugs have entered and hopefully, after they have conquered and kicked their addiction.  There is an entry that shows me as the reader that the tension is rising and made me realize that the main character was in a situation that wasn’t conventional.  This particular entry didn’t give much background, but it gives insight to how the main character might still be struggling. The following passage is written as follows (1971):

…I guess they were just being careful and checking to see that you weren’t full of drugs of one sort or another. I don’t even feel real. I must be somebody else. … The nurses and doctors keep telling me I will feel better, but I still can’t get straight. I can’t close my eyes because the worms are still crawling on me. They are eating me. They are crawling through my nose and gnawing in my mouth and oh God…I must get you back in your case because the maggots are crawling off my bleeding writhing hands onto your pages. I will lock you in. You will be safe Anonymous, 1971, p. 122).

I feel like she started out her entry clear headed, but somewhere along the line her mind started slipping.  This isn’t the first entry I read like this and it definitely wasn’t the last.  These words just made the tension of the storyline string a little tighter, but I still want to believe she would win her fight.  

I’ll be honest when I got to the end I was crushed. She sounded so hopeful at the end. She had decided to not start another journal stating the following (1971): “…I think when a person gets older she should be able to discuss her problems and thoughts with other people, instead of just with another part of herself as you have been to me” (Anonymous, 1971, p. 158). I was hoping things really had changed for her, but drugs are a difficult demon to fight. It pains me to think how many people lose their lives to drugs when it’s almost clear they are willing to beat it and wanting to so badly. She was still a teenager with so much more ahead of her.

 I had to take a day after finishing this book to compose myself and my thoughts because I knew that I was going to look at this book differently due to the assignment. If I had just been reading it for enjoyment, I would have let my mind just process what I read without dissecting the parts that I would use for this blog post. For this reason, although finding answers about the major parts of a story such as point of view, pacing, and tension revealed themselves rather easily, but trying to answer the questions that are in the Reader Response article by Owen Williamson might be a more challenging task for this book due to the nature of the topic.

The first question I want to look into answering is the following: How well does it address things that you care about and consider important to the world?” (Williamson, n.d). Go Ask Alice by Anonymous was surrounded by the subject of drugs.  I have never had to face a situation like this myself, but reading this book made me think of the numerous stories I have read where people have passed away from drug related issues.  I find it an important topic to make visible and let others know that there are resources out there to help those affected and their families when they realize they need it.  So, while I have never had to feel the pain that a drug addiction can cause, I do sympathize when I read the stories or a book like this because I always hope and pray for a good outcome and sometimes, like in Go Ask Alice, there isn’t one.

The next question I am interested in answering is “How well did you enjoy the text as entertainment or work of art?” (Williamson, n.d.).  I liked the story because I’ve always enjoyed stories that have a realistic feel to it.  Although Go Ask Alice was a tough book to read it had a story everyone needs to read because it shows what can happen to those who suffer from an addiction. Part of me wishes I could have read more about how it affected the family as a whole, but I understand that might be difficult with the limited first-person point of view. As an autobiographical/biographical story, the author pulled on my heart and made me care about what happened to the main character.  An example of this is the following quote (1971):

For the first time I feel absolutely certain that even if I were locked  in a room full of acid, Speed, and every other upper in the world I would only be disgusted, for I see what it does to kids who used to be my friends (Anonymous, 1971, p. 112).

 From this quote, I wanted to believe that the main character would get better. That she was determined to kick her addiction and continue on to become who she wanted to be and not who her addiction made her. Optimistic view point? Yes, it is, but I couldn’t help it because it is quotes like the one above that make me rethink the main character. I realize that the author wrote her like they did because they wanted to show all sides of the addiction and in my opinion it worked. It showed me that beyond the addiction is a human being that cares and feels. The author tried too hard in some places, but I also saw that as them wanting to make their character as real as they could. 

Conclusion

The main character is a teenage girl who is tricked into falling into a world she couldn’t find her way out .  It pains me that this is the story of so many—teenagers, men, women. It doesn’t matter how their lives were before the addiction began. All people see from the time the addiction starts is the addiction itself. Somehow, the person they were before no longer exists. I’m not sure how many times I had that thought and honestly, it makes me mad at myself because I felt like I fell into a trap too.  I fell into a trap of hope and it was ripped out from under me. I enjoyed Go Ask Alice and I would recommend it.  However, I would caution that it may leave you with the feeling of your world spinning and your sense of equilibrium unbalanced and while I see that as a good thing, it also left me with a lot of unanswered questions such as “What can we do to make sure this stops happening?” Yes, this story is fictional, but there are many out there who have lived a real version of it.  

  References:

Anonymous (1971). Go Ask Alice. New York: Simon & Shuster. 

“Go Ask Alice” [Image]. Retrieved from https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Go-Ask-Alice/Anonymous/9780671664589

Tunnell M.O., Jacobs, J.S., Young T.A. & Bryan, G.  (2016). What is a good book? in Children’s Literature Briefly, (pp. 15-23.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson.

Williamson, O.M.  (2006). “Reader Response”. Retrieved from http://utminers.utep.edu/omwilliamson/engl0310link/readerresponse.htm

[itbeajen]

Omorfos Kosmo | HQ!! x Reader

Chapter 6 - Celebrations and the Mercenaries "Oi, what are you doing?!" Tsukishima's voice cut through the air, surprising the front line of attack. Daichi glances back, just momentarily enough to see the AoE mage dodge another arrow and his eyes widened. I thought Succubi could only use close combat? Daichi quickly raised his shield, tanking another hit before pushing the succubus off and piercing through her heart. The screams of horror and despair filled the air, but he ignored it. The only archer here is Kiyoko, and she wouldn't fire at Tsukishima no matter how annoying he gets. "What... Why is she..." Yamaguchi stuttered out. He had been helping the front lines from behind, taking out any weakened succubi. Their forces had dwindled, and the Succubus Queen is currently busy with Kenma, Lev, and Kuroo who had decided to keep her occupied. Kiyoko turned upon hearing the fear in Yamaguchi's eyes, and her eyes widened behind the frames of her glasses and she asked, stupefied, "Is that-" Her words are cut off as Akaashi pushes her aside, shooting out a Holy Arrow in the process at the now-dead succubus and Akaashi frowns, "Why is she attacking Tsukishima though?" Tsukishima cursed as he dodged yet another arrow and he muttered, "This is a mess." He looked up, golden orbs boring onto what should be you, and his grip on his staff tightened. "What are you doing [L/N?!" He practically yells this as he dodges yet another shot. Everyone in the vicinity hears and Kenma is momentarily distracted as he caught the battle between you and Tsukishima out of the corner of his eyes. [L/N]?! The pudding haired boy is pushed away and Kuroo snaps, "Kenma, focus!" The pudding haired boy heals the tank and slightly shakes his head as he refocuses on the battle before him. Kuroo scowled as he tanked yet another hit and he muttered, "We can figure that out later, this Queen isn't going to let you space out Kenma! So if you want to slack off, slack off later!"

Just a few moments ago, the signature sound of another monster being spawned happened just a little bit behind the support group, causing all of them to be wary. But Tsukishima had taken it as his role to play as he initiated battle with the new monster on the field. He was expecting another scantily dressed demon that was going to attempt to seduce him. He had expected hellhounds and gargoyles. Heck, even more succubi was okay with him. But this? No. He was prepared for all the monsters that could have possibly spawned. He was not prepared to go up against you. But was it really you? Your typical royal blue outfit was replaced, you were wearing something similar to the Succubus Queen, albeit a bit more conservative and with less skin exposed to the public. But it wasn't just that that was different, it was the aura around you. The dark red smog that you were emitting appeared to be seeping out of your skin and his eyes narrowed at the lazy grip on your mandolin. You would never hold your beloved mandolin with just one hand on the neck, that's an insult to the instrument. "If she manages to buff the succubi, we're screwed," he cursed and Yamaguchi looked over, eyes widening, "Is that... [L/N]?" "I think so... but I don't think it's her." Tsukishima readied his staff. He was prepared to launch an electrical shockwave in order to interrupt your music, but it appeared as though it wasn't needed. Despite your fingers strumming the strings over and over again, nothing came out. Your facial expression showed nothing though and instead, your hands reached for the hidden bow you always kept beneath your cape and upon pulling it out, the blonde cursed. "SCATTER, NOW." There was no cast time or words required for you to cast your usual skills and Tsukishima's eyes narrowed. What the hell happened to you, [L/N]!?

Yachi watched everything with fear as she watched her friends get hurt for her sake. She happened to make eye contact with Sugawara and Kiyoko. The black haired beauty nodded her head at Sugawara before setting another arrow and taking aim. Yachi watches the arrow fly, but doesn't quite know where it's aimed until she feels the cage drop at a furious speed, crushing the succubi that happened to be right beneath it. Sugawara grinned and Daichi nodded, he glanced back, "Ennoshita! Hinata!" "Got it!" Hinata called out. He rushed over to Yachi, immediately blocking her from one of the succubi that did not knock out instantly from the weight of the cage. He grabbed her hand, and immediately sprinted out of there. "Good job Hinata!" Ennoshita cried out as he took over Hinata's spot with one of the succubus. He struggles with exhaustion and lack of stamina, but for the sake of their guild member's safety, he pulls through as he manages to kick the succubus away. As soon as she fell onto the ground, her back facing him, he forces his sword into her heart, twisting it once and twice for good measure before pulling it out. The succubi that had fallen all burst into light. The Succubus Queen watched with mournful eyes and her voice cut through the clinks and clash of metal. "The Prince will be so disappointed... we have such rude guests today," she whispered. Her gaze fell upon Kenma's team, as they struggled to keep her occupied, and she flew into the air again. Kenma's eyes widened and Kuroo shouted, "INCOMING METEORS. EVACUATE." "We won't let you!" the succubi screamed as they reached for the tanks. "AKAASHI!" "Divination: Genesis!" Akaashi called out, and beams of light erupted beneath and around the succubi that had attempted to grab the front line of attack. They managed to worm their way out of that situation, but the look in Kenma's eyes portrayed the dire situation they were in. To their backs, there was you, and in front of them was the Queen. Kenma's eyes narrowed. The Queen has an AOE Meteor attack... but the cast time for that after she's in the air takes about 30 seconds to fully load. But [L/N]'s Arrow Rain is a different story. It has no cast time and due to her enchants and equipment, the cast time and cool down is practically nonexistent. But if [L/N] switches to Ishtar Ring... Kenma shook his head, he couldn't allow you to switch over from AoE to One-on-One combat, you'd win due to your faster attack speed. He readied his staff to heal the entire party, waiting for the inevitable attacks from both front and behind. But the Queen itself seemed hesitant to attack, what if that girl that had spawned in the back were one of her children? Then she would be considered a murderer, would she not? The vibrant hues of purple flickered in contemplation and the demon asks, "Child, what is your name?" No. you screamed as you watched your body move unwillingly. Your arm drawing the bow yet again; its target being Kei. Stop. That's not me. You were resisting to the best of your ability, you couldn't quite tell what dimension you were in exactly, but you still felt the pain from each attack that Tsukishima had purposely misfired, just enough so that it would hit you, but not enough to knock you out. That's. Not. Me! You wanted to scream out. And you still felt the coldness seeping in through your back, the lips at your neck as the fangs gently poke your skin, not quite enough to break it, but just enough for you to feel the sensation of two thorns. "But that is you... The one that's filled with blood lust and trying to hurt your companions. That's you, my pet." He chuckled, and your slightly intoxicated brain swooned before you shook yourself out of it. That's not me. You felt his lips tug downwards into a frown and suddenly the feeling of skin breaking is there and you almost scream as he plunges in. Once again, as he steals your blood, he sucks away all resistance and your remote controlled body is in the palms of his hands again. A whimper escapes your throat and he pulls away reluctantly and he muttered, "You taste divine.. but I shouldn't be doing this to you, not when I still need you for later." He closes the wounds once more as he presses butterfly kisses against your neck and he whispers into your ear yet another command, "Do your worst for me, [L/N]." You watched as your head tilts just enough to look at the Queen, and upon seeing your glowing vibrant purple eyes, she laughs a melodic laughter, one that was enough to temporarily sway Lev and Hinata to not want to battle her anymore. But with a swift whack from Yaku and another by Sugawara, the two snap out of it, thankful to their senpais for looking out for them. "How wonderful! Absolutely delightful!" the Queen cheers and her delicate smile turns into an evil grin, her tongue coyly licking the bottom lips, and she addresses the enemy team, "Your precious companion now belongs to us, both body and soul." But for a moment, the purple dulls, your normal hues returning slightly and the Queen's eyes widened. Suddenly they narrow and she pouts, "Ara, looks like he needs to keep a tighter leash." The incubus that sat behind you frowned and his voice his husky and low at your ear. His fangs just barely grazing the shell of your ear and he asks, "Are you still refusing me?" "As if..." you gritted out, surprising him, "I'd let you... hurt them." You may not be able to win physically, but if it was a mental endurance battle, regardless of how much hp, mp or stamina he may drain from you, he won't drain too much since he needed you alive. As long as I can reject whatever it is he's doing, I should be able to win. His merlot eyes narrowed and he scoffed, "A mere human like you thinks you can win against us?" You watched with a slightly unfocused gaze as he attempted to take over your body again and a small laugh escapes your lips, "Yes. I do." Tsukishima noticed the pause in your attacks as your body froze in place. The moment he noticed neither the Queen nor you were going to attack, he swiftly turned his staff, aiming it at the direction of the Queen. The attack he had prepared in order to stop you is switched over to the queen. He goes unnoticed to her as she narrows her eyes at your figure, muttering nonsense about how she expected better from the pet that he had specifically chosen. "Ice Spear!" The spell caught the entire team by surprise as they were all still somewhat shocked by your betrayal. But was it really betrayal? Regardless, the spear of ice plunged straight through the heart of the Succubus Queen as the coldness seeped into her skin, freezing her from the inside out. She struggled to pull it out, screams of agony and rage filling the air. But the more she struggled, the faster the ice spread, Tsukishima's staff still glowed a bright light blue, channeling the ice elemental to its full potential. Once she was full encased in ice, he flipped the staff around, holding it horizontally and he muttered, "Shatter." The Succubus Queen exploded into light, an sounds of several party members leveling up were heard. Tsukishima felt the mp in his being drain from the amount he had used in one go. "TSUKKI WATCH OUT!" Yamaguchi cried out in fear. Tsukishima watched with wide eyes as the arrow that you had prepared flew straight at him, only to be deflected by Hinata. "[L/N]! SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY, [L/N]!!!" he screamed out in anger. His hands shook with anger and Tsukishima muttered, "She can't hear us." "What do you mean!?" "There's one boss left," Kenma muttered, his gaze falling onto you. Hinata's eyes widened and his tone grew louder, "You're saying you want us to defeat [L/N]!?" His once warm and friendly orbs were filled with anger and sorrow and Kuroo gripped his sword, "Well, if she's not going to come back to us willingly, we don't have a choice." Everyone tensed, you were their friend. A comrade in arm that had offered help for free to save another friend. Hinata clenched his sword and asked, "And you think she's not there? WHAT HAPPENS IF SHE ENDS UP BEING STUCK HERE?!" "Shouyou, she'll just respawn at town and-" "BUT I'M SAYING WHAT IF SHE DOESN'T?!" Hinata cried out. The frustration was evident in his voice, and his head lowers, "EVerything's already weird enough as it is! We've been thrown into the online game that we play, and then our team mates have gone missing. We don't even know if the game is still going by the same rules as before!" He slowly raises his head and turned back to you. Your figure froze again, and he mutters, "I don't want anything bad to happen to [L/N], she-" "R-Rose," you managed to sputter as you momentarily reclaimed your body. The vibrant purple hues were fading back to the warmth held in yours, but it was only for a split second before you scream and the vibrant purple takes over again. "Rose?" Hinata repeated. But he couldn't do much afterwards when you launched another Arrow Rain, causing them to scatter. Tsukishima cursed, "Kenma-san, do you know all the skills she has as an archer?" "No, she never used it around me. I only know of two... Arrow Rain and Ishtar Ring. Ishtar is a 1v1 move," Kenma muttered as he dodged another arrow. Lev's eyes narrowed and he said, "Hinata mentioned something about a rose." "Lev, this is not the time," Yaku responded as he deflected one of your arrows with his own holy one and Bokuto whined, "Does she have no cool-down for that skill!?" "She should run out of arrows soon though right?!" Asahi asked. No one answered, but Kiyoko watched intently as she saw you pull the drawstring of your bow back once more. Her eyes widened and she responded, "She's not using arrows!" "What do you mean Kiyoko?!" Sugawara cried out, in the midst of dodging. Daichi grunted as he grabbed Yachi out of the battlefield and Kiyoko softly stated, "She has an Infinite Magic Arrow." "You're kidding me. How does this girl have all the rare stuff?" Kuroo responded as he attempted to get closer. Only to see you raise the bow in a sweeping motion, holding it like you would a sword. And with one sweep, Kuroo flew back, surprising everyone in the vicinity. "Kuroo-san has one of the heaviest armors on and she managed to blow him away that easily?!" Lev cried out. His eyes sparkling with admiration and Yaku narrowed his eyes, "LEV." "Sorry!" Tsukishima slowly recovered his mp as he hid behind the fallen bird cage that had previously held Yachi. His eyes closed as he tried to recall anything important about the rose. A rose? He curses himself because he tuned you out during that one moment as your team was making their way to the South Point of the Forest. Flashback "You know there's lore behind this whole place," you had told him and Yamaguchi as they were all switching onto your Thunder Dragon. Tuskishima's dragon was beginning to run out of summon time, and he had released it so that he could call upon it the next day. "There is?" Yamaguchi asked excitedly. You nodded and said, "When you first get the pre-quests to even enter this place, the lore is pretty depressing." "How so?" "The forest and the land it covers, the fortress and the garden, they all belonged to a single kingdom. This kingdom was one of the richest and most powerful, but that was due to their selectivity of who was allowed to enter the kingdom and who wasn't. Apparently the moat wasn't there before and instead there was a lively town that had surrounded the kingdom. The kingdom had a prince that was supposed to be every girl's prince charming. Everyone had wanted him, and as a result of jealousy from the surrounding kingdoms, the kingdom was destroyed from multiple attacks." Yamaguchi noticed you paused and he asked, "Then what happened to this kingdom?" "The Prince found out the attacks were due to people's jealousy towards him... so he made a contract with a demon in order to gain the power necessary to defend his people. But the contract was ultimately their savior and their downfall. At the price of power, they were forced to live for all of eternity. And as time passed, people slowly began to stay away from the kingdom due to their immortality," you explained, and you snorted, "You know the NPC's, whenever they talk about this place, they talk about how the kingdom's queen and prince and their servants in their fortress are still alive today?" "So you're saying the monsters in the forest and the fortress were all formerly people, that's stupid," Tsukishima responded. You pouted, "Hey! I'm just retelling the story!" "Is there a way to break that curse?" Yamaguchi asked, and you mumbled, "Not sure. But there's another myth about that place that their power stems from a single rose." Flashback End The curse breaks when the rose wilts..? Tsukishima glanced around him, the entire garden was still blooming despite the blood that has been shed there and he smirked. Well then, if they won't die naturally, we'll do it forcefully. "Yamaguchi!" he called out, the freckled boy glanced up before dashing over. "What's your strongest supportive water or ice magic?" "Support? I have Igloo and Aqua Ring." "I see, that should work," Tsukishima muttered and he said, "Prepare yourself for the strongest Aqua Ring you can summon." "Tsukki?" The unsaid question was heard and Tsukishima responded, "I'm going to follow Kenma's advice. It's time to burn this place down."

"Kenma, looks like you're not the only pyromaniac here," Kuroo said as he tried to approach you again. However, in the tanks attempt to approach you, your awkward bow swing was sweeping them away, literally.

"What do you mean Kuroo?" Kenma asked, slightly out of breath and his eyes narrowed. Kuroo nodded at Tsukishima who was seen casting a spell at the center of the garden. As long as your controlled body was focused on the others, he should be able successfully cast the spell.

But he was wrong, as soon you began to take aim again, vibrant purple hues met his melted gold and your aim changed. But again, the warmth and familiarity of your hues fought back and the Incubus scowled.

"Why are you fighting me?" He tightened his hold on you, and you winced, feeling yourself gain slightly more control as the incubus fell victim to his rage. You smirked, albeit weakly, "I have people... That I want to protect."

You paused, and you muttered, "I'm sure you did too, didn't you? Former Prince of the forgotten kingdom of Masteria, Zen." His merlot eyes widened and his grip on you loosened and he asked, "How..How do you know my name? It's been centuries."

You don't respond, instead as soon as he relaxed, you broke free, pushing him away. You drew a line with your finger between him and you, and you muttered, "Please Kenma."

Back on the field, Kenma noticed your eye color was almost back to normal, and he rushed up towards you. His hand immediately hitting your back and he cried out, "Dispel!"

A mass of darkness is expelled from your body as you slump forward, only to be caught by Kenma. You winced, and you muttered, "You guys did a good amount of damage on me."

"Please, you almost wiped the entire party," Kenma scoffed, but was pleased to see that you were back. He looked up and nodded to Tsukishima and the mage knelt down, pressing his hand to the now-completed magic circle. He closed his eyes in order to shut out the immense heat and he muttered, "Flames of Extinction!"

The heat quickly circumvented throughout the vicinity, and if you looked closely, it was almost as though a giant salamander was racing through the gardens, spreading fire to whatever it touched and leaving tracts of molten lava behind it. Tsukishima kept himself close to the magic circle, pulling out the full potential and he could faintly hear Yamaguchi summoning an Aqua Ring for each member as they all huddled closer together so as to not expend too much of the freckled boy's mana.

"No. NO!" The incubus cried out as he flew towards one rose bush that had yet to be touched. If his red eyes weren't enchanting enough as they already were, the fire that was reflected within them and the single individual rose that yet to fallen mirrored the desperation and sorrow as he grabbed it and teleported out of the way.

His jet black wings allowed him to hover in the air as he watched in horror as the Rose Garden fell apart. As long as this rose was safe though, that's all that truly mattered. His eyes narrowed as he watched the flames subside, and his gaze fell upon you. Although you were unable to stand up on your own, the amount of life and vigor in your eyes were more than enough for him to want you. He wanted to know how you knew of him, and perhaps, his history.

"That rose," Tsukishima muttered as he walked over to the party. Your gaze tore away from the incubus and you weakly laughed, "So you remembered what I said?"

"Tch, no."

You could see the hints of his lies from the way he had quickly responded, and you shrugged. You looked up at the Incubus and Akaashi asked, "Is that the final boss?"

"I'm not sure if we can call him a boss though," you muttered in response, catching their attention. You pulled away from Kenma's hold and he immediately casts another Heal, but for some reason it still didn't work. You weakly make your way to the center and the Incubus descends, landing before you and he asks, "What is it you are seeking for?"

"We came to rescue our friend," you replied softly. At this, you noticed the Karasuno members immediately shield Yachi, their defensive stances all set and they were all in position and the Incubus nodded in acknowledgement and he states, "She appeared in our Fortress at the break of dawn. We did not steal her away if that is what you are assuming."

You nod and Bokuto frowns before whispering to Kuroo, "Is this part of the cutscene or something?"

"How am I supposed to know, bro?"

The incubus sighed, his merlot eyes flickering between longing and sorrow. He tore his gaze away from the sole surviving white rose, and he turned to you, "As per rules, your team is the first raid party to successfully conquer this Kingdom. And for that, you are granted leave."

A white magic circle appeared beneath your party, and you cried out, "Wait!"

I still have so much I want to ask!

"We shall meet again, Protector of Invidia." He disappeared as a flood of rose petals covered your vision, and you winced as the gust around you picked up. Everyone grunted as the wind whipped around them, and they felt their entire being shake and move. But just as sudden as it had happened, everything stopped at once, and when they were finally able to adjust their weary eyes to the world around them, they were right outside town.

"What just... happened?" Asahi muttered, voicing everyone's thoughts. But the sudden amount of notifications that occurred on their hidden menu bar pinged consecutively and Lev pulled his menu up, only to cry out in pure astonishment.

"What's wrong Lev?" Yaku asked, following the first year's actions as he pulled up the menu. His eyes widened and Kuroo muttered, "That is one sick title."

You weakly slumped to the ground and pulled up the menu bar, glad to see that you had finally leveled. And you pulled up the new accomplishments, to see a new Boss title and Raid Title.

Boss Title: Queenslayer

Max Attack +10

Magic Attack +20

Stamina +20

Raid Title: Black Rose Master

Max Attack +15

Crit +8

Max HP +30

All stats +15

Magic Attack +15

You blinked and you muttered, "Damn, this title is pretty nice." You shook your head and you turned to Hinata, "Looks like my job is over?"

It feels so inconclusive though...

Hinata laughed and he grinned, "Why don't you come over to our place and celebrate with us?"

You shook your head, "I'd love to, but there's a Mercenary Meeting today."

"There is?" Bokuto asked, and Akaashi shrugged, "You're the one who receives the notifications for our team, Bokuto-san."

"NOOO. THERE IS." Bokuto cried out. His shoulders slumped and he whined, "Can't we ditch Akaashi? I wanna celebrate too!"

"We can always wait for the three of you to come back," Sugawara offered with a smile. Daichi nodded and he said, "It'll take us a while to set up anyways. We're all so tired."

You glanced at the clock, "Yeah.. it's already 21:36." Your eyes were beginning to flutter close, and you gently shook your head before pulling out an elixir and downing it, immediately feeling refreshed. You turned to Bokuto and Akaashi, "Need a lift to town?"

"Yes please!" Bokuto eagerly accepted, his eyes shining with brightness and excitement for the free ride. Akaashi nodded and you called out, "Drihtan!"

A loud roar responds to you and with a clap of thunder, the silvery Thunder Dragon lands besides you, immediately nuzzling its head against your side as you rub it affectionately. "Hey cutie, sorry I had to leave you out of that raid."

Drihtan cooed in response and its gaze swept over the party. Upon landing on the ever nervous and shaky Yachi, it let out an adorable cry as it smiled at the petite girl. Her eyes widened and she stuttered, "Is... Is it t-talking to m-me?!"

You laughed, "Drihtan says his hellos." You walked over to his side and he immediately lowered himself to the ground, allowing you to climb on. Bokuto and Akaashi hopped on, and Drihtan whined and you laughed, "They're friends, baby. Don't be so picky about your riders."

The dragon snorted and it shook its head playfully before flapping its wings powerfully once, and then twice before taking off. Bokuto waved at them and he yelled, "I'LL BE BACK!!!"

"You mean, we will be back, Bokuto-san," Akaashi corrected him with a sigh. Kuroo snickered and Hinata cried out, "SEE YOU LATER [L/N]! BOKUTO-SAN! AKAASHI-SAN!"

"She's late," a gruff voice called out.

"Oh come on, now, it's not as though she had a choice. She was in the middle of a job. This Mercenary meeting was way too last minute," someone drawled out in response. The gruffer voice made a small noise of discontent and he muttered, "She shouldn't have accepted such a ridiculous offer."

"Well, she was the only one who would willingly do that. 'For the sake of experience!' As she would say," the other voice laughed.

"She should've joined our guild," the gruff voice retorted, only to receive laughter from his own guild mate and the guild across from him snorted, "You always want her to join your guild. If [L/N]-chi won't join my guild, why would she join yours, Ushiwaka?"

ID: Ushiwaka Main: Holy Knight Level: 71 - EXP 4/100 Guild: Swans Fun Fact: He only ended up playing because Tendou had provoked him enough to play.

"You should have came to-" Ushijima cleared his throat, "You should have just joined my guild as well, Oikawa."

ID: GrandKing Main: Divine Bowman Level: 70 - EXP 56/100 Guild: Seijou Fun Fact: If it wasn't for the fact Oikawa was already in a guild, he'd be the most sought out individual player.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes and his officer next to him cracked his knuckles in response and before he could say anything, the doors leading into the meeting room creak open and in steps Bokuto and Akaashi first, and you followed in last, closing the door behind you.

"You're late, [L/N]," Ushijima casually calls you out, and you shrugged, "So are Cashew and Owlicious, I don't see you reprimanding them."

Ushijima narrowed his eyes on you and his red-headed officer bursts into laughter. A lazy grin settles on his face and he greets you with a peace sign, "Sup [L/N]."

"Yo Guess! It's been a while!" you laughed and high fived him as you passed by his seat to get to yours.

ID: Guess Main: Assassin Level: 70 - EXP 66/100 Guild: Swans Fun Fact: He played through every character class possible before settling on an assassin, but he only settled as an assassin because he happened to rank up his crafting skills and suddenly became the only person in the server to have mastered Crafting.

"It's not like you to be late," a tall brown-haired Dark Knight casually teased. You turned to him and frowned, "If it weren't for Aone, I'd have shot you by now, oh pitifully rank #5, Fuji."

ID: Fuji Main: Dark Knight Level: 68 - EXP 56/100 Guild: Iron Wall Fun Fact: Although he's great at provoking people, he always seems to lose when it comes to provoking you or Kuroo. Especially you.

Your gaze falls onto Aone and you send him a small smile, "It's good to see you're doing well Aone!"

ID: Aone Main: Assassin Level: 68 - EXP 79/100 Guild: Iron Wall Fun Fact: The only people he's helped outside of his guild and outside of his mercenary jobs are you and Hinata. He has a soft spot for small animals. And surprisingly has animal taming as his sub class.

The tall white-haired male nodded at you and softly asked, "Have you been well?"

Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise and you smiled brightly, "Yup! Besides keeping my top rank in the Mercenary Bulletin, I've been splendid. I know I may sound rather optimistic and naive, but I'm quite enjoying this new and strange world."

"Spoken like a true girl," Futakuchi muttered, your eyes narrowed and you responded coolly, "Says the one who's lost every pvp against said girl, right, Fuji?" You purposely emphasized his name and he growled at you and Oikawa clapped his hands.

"Mah, mah, don't be so mean to [L/N]-chi, Fuji-san," he said. His normally playful air around him was slightly different today and you greeted, "Hello King, how've you been?"

"So-so, Iwa-chan and I haven't been able to get as many requests due to a certain beautiful lady sitting in front of me," Oikawa smiled, but to you it felt more menacing than usual. You laughed, "Is that so? I'm so sorry King, and Iwaizumi."

ID: Iwaizumi Main: Holy Knight Level: 70 - EXP 88/100 Guild: Seijou Fun fact: His first character was named IwaChan, courtesy of Oikawa. As a result, Iwaizumi named Oikawa's character Grand King out of spite. But Oikawa seems okay with it.

"It's to be expected when you're the only Divine Bowman that's completed the Music sub-class," Iwaizumi responded, his gaze resting on the neck of your mandolin. You smiled leisurely, but you knew something big was going on. For the top five mercenary guilds and parties (and solo), to gather all at once, and to have actually waited for all five to be present must have meant something big was happening.

You fold your hands together into an arc and rest your chin on it. You momentarily close your eyes and you drawled, "So, what's the deal tonight, gentlemen?"

"The NPC's," Ushijima started, catching your attention as he normally didn't start the discussions, "It appears that they're sentient. Tendou."

"Yes yes. As you all know, I'm a Crafter," he starts off, receiving nods from around the table and he continues, "I work with NPC's in order to get easy crafting material so I don't have to hunt them down all the time. I was preparing to make [L/N] a new case for her mandolin, and as I was talking to the NPC's, man it was surprising."

"What was?" Bokuto asked out of curiosity. Tendou slyly smiled, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Guess, please." You cut off his playful tone, and he was mildly surprised that you were actually interested. You often attended but didn't care enough for you to actually... be so attentive. Tendou smiled and he continued, "The NPC's have a history of their own. Each individual NPC is, for a lack of better way to describe it, human."

"So what are you getting at, Guess-san?" Akaashi asked. Everyone was interested now and you muttered, "If that's the case then... we're going to involved even deeper with this world than before."

"Exactly," Tendou nodded and he spared you a smile, "Sharp as always [L/N]."

"What do you mean by involved deeper?" Futakuchi asked, his eyes narrowing at you. You glanced at Tendou who merely sent you a thumbs up and you sighed, "If what Guess is saying is true, we can't treat this world like the game we used to play."

"Ah," Oikawa nodded in realization, "Since this is technically their world and we were the ones sent to it-"

"In order to bring peace," Iwaizumi finished, and he muttered, "Then that means there will be a lot of political dealings and-"

"Each of us, individually, have already made a big impact based on the game back when it was, well, a game," you explained, "If say, things have changed, then that means that we, as a group of people, have made an impact. It's no longer a 'One Hero saves the entire world' kind of thing." You frowned and you dropped your head to the table, face planted against the wood, "What a pain."

"Sorry, I'm still not quite understanding this, then what about all our previous achievements?" Futakuchi asked. Your hand lazily drags to the menu and your eyes blink widely, "Oh, well then."

Everyone followed your actions, and Ushijima states, "It appears as though whatever story quest achievements we previously had obtained are gone..."

You frowned, "I still have some."

"I do too," Iwaizumi responded. And you said, "Content Arcs 1 and 4 are still here for me."

"I have half of arc 3," Iwaizumi responds, and the two of you exchange a glance. Your face was one of pure astonishment and you asked, "Are we... written down into history then?"

"What do you-" Oikawa asked, but you cut him off, "Because think about it, when we played the game, each of us were the protagonist. Our character is the protagonist, but now that each of us are no longer really an individual, has the plot line changed then?"

Everyone fell silent and Aone cleared his throat, "I don't believe the plot line has changed..." His gentle yet firm tone voiced his opinions and he continued, "But I do agree with [L/N]'s statement, that every one of us 'players' are now inextricably tied into the game now. Our actions can influence this world."

The group fell silent and Akaashi asked, "And what are we to do about it?"

"We start to blend into their society," you answered.

It's the only logical choice.

"Think about it friends, if we're not 'players' in this world, but instead we've become 'a part of' this world, then that means we can't just casually 'play' this game anymore."

"Are you implying that we become a part of this world?" Ushijima asked. Tendou smirked, and Oikawa soon follows, because that knowing look on your face and the excitement in your eyes answer him without words. And you smiled, "We're already a part of this world."

[amalberga391013]

Bitter Gourd  (memoir)

I was a clueless 7 year old when I discovered my hatred relationship with bitter gourd.

Up to this day, the memory of my first and I swear my last taste of bitter gourd still makes my tongue protrudes in disgust. Cluelessly sitting at the dining table, feet which where dangling- swaying at anticipation for dinner. My expectation for dinner was short lived when right after my grandmother had placed dinner in front me, staring mindlessly at this newly seen ‘specie’ of food. My thoughts? They were short lived as well, for my father had placed- not a piece but two ugly curved pieces of bitter gourd down my plate!

For the first time of my dramatic 7 years of existence I had took the teeny tiniest bite. I was seconds away from my first bite when waves of bitterness had slapped my sweet like taste buds, all muscles their ever is placed in my face had sympathized in visual representation of stretched out muscles. That was the first time my taste buds were abused, making a mental note of its taste, I had vowed not to eat those ugly colored curved creatures.  

Years have passed and so did efforts of my grandmother and a little tiny teeny bit from my cousin for me to reconcile with my hatred for bitter gourd, even the name itself is displeasing- what more of its taste? They have tried to make combinations with foods I liked in hopes to find hope for me and bitter gourd, bitter gourd that was separated from its ugly curved flesh, glazed in cheese powder and fried? No. Not today, sis. Serving food without bitter gourd in visual sight as to fool thy taste bud? No, Thou shall not make amends with bitter gourd. 

But anyways, it was supposed to be one peaceful evening with the expectation of having my grandmother’s famous ‘paksiw.’ Seated quietly I had patiently waited for dinner to be served and when it did I did not hesitate to grab my spoon and dip it in the bowl to scoop some of its soup because its best to start it that way, a food lover knows best. My tracks were halt to stop when I could taste that familiar bitterness brought to you by my one and only enemy- bitter gourd. “Does this have bitter gourd in it?” I had remembered my grandmother’s face when I had asked that. She looked at me in a mixture of awe and a what-kind-of-tongue-does-this-brat-have kind of look. It took her awhile, it really did, before she had composed herself and her thoughts before answering a question with a question—“how did you know?’

To win, one must know its enemy like the palm of thy hand.

           At some point, I wanted to give bitter gourd a chance. I mean I had made a heartbreaking effort towards kimchi, another one of those bitter creatures I used to tremendously despise because my childlike taste buds are much better than that. But for the good gracious love I have for my oppa’s I had forced that used to be green but now tainted in red creature until I grew familiar to its taste- in a good way of course because I was a wannabe Korean.

           My taste buds had expanded and so was my variety of food, my childhood classics are of course still prominent but newly found specialties are a must of serving in courses of meals throughout the day. My mind at 2010 when K-pop had came knocking on my brain’s not even half-filled knowledge door was a new awakening, a new light and hope given by the good heavens, they must have been sighing at my petty relationship with bitter gourd.            

           If 2010 was a year of gentle knocks to my interest, year 2012 onwards, in a nutshell was full of hardcore thrusts, pummeling, pounding and head banging, completely taking a drastic turn by manipulating my sense of awareness and direction in life. Korean dishes like kimchi, sundae- which by the way sounds mouth-watering as hell but it’s actually blood sausage in Korean, just Lord, why you gotta go fool and shatter my heart this way. Anyways back to the topic, Dotorimuk which is Acorn Jelly, Hongeo Fermented Skate which is bitter and expired tasting that’s suitable for the taste buds of older adults in Korea, Gopchang which are Barbecued Intestines, which by the way this sounds tempting but crucial for my poor sugar spice and everything nice preferences. Beondegi, let me gag for a hot second because its literally Silkworm Larvae, Bosintang which are Dog Stew, and last but most terribly the least,  Gaebul, and to all my oppa’s in full glory, let me choke in peace because one of the dish Koreans fancy are Live Spoon Worms.

         Another tactic was set forth, this time, was not my family but of my foolish friends who wanted to push my hatred meter for bitter gourd. We were at a samgyupsal restaurant somewhere in a gazillion ones located at friendship, while I was waiting for my rice to be served, the stew that was boiling at the process, until I got up and headed towards the counter to go update and claim my precious sticky rice there and there.

           A hot minute was all my friends needed before their demonic horns had gone to action, tail wiggling in excitement as not only they had made a wrap for me and grabbed a bowl to pour me some stew mixing what they had ‘honestly’ told me was crumbs of bitter gourd.

           I sat down, still now knowing the tragic scene that’ll play before my two own dressed eyes, the other was holding my wrap and had stretched just directly at my mouth, with no hesitation, I opened and chewed but later on was grimacing at the taste, my other demonic friend that managed to look genuinely concerned was telling me to wash it down with stew and asking me threads of what happened and was I okay. Dumb and dumber me had obliged and took savoring gulps only to choke in blissful pain by yet again, the ugly taste of bitter gourd.

One thing was for sure after that incident, I had vowed to take revenge on them.

Thou shall seek and make evil spirits perish.

           I had mentioned considering bitter gourd as I had with authentic Korean dishes, this time I had let my mother do the task at hand. I asked her to cook some for me and she did, after that wholesome nagging on how it’ll just go to waste or what was I even thinking.

           I sat down expectantly, it was my mother’s cooking after all. Yet again it was another tragic fail, she had simply cooked me bitter gourd with no twist at all. Silently praying that I don’t end up choking and vomiting all that, I only choked in despair over its pathetic taste. It was just so bitter that I could probably make a bitter joke about it and trend worldwide- sarcasm and being delusional aside, I had given up on bitter gourd.

I just continue to exist and have the fact that I sincerely despise bitter gourd, but hey at least we are setting a record here, I’ve been in this hateful relationship for 11 years and counting, for now I just have to accept the fact that I will never be used to its awful taste. Because with a kidlike wants like me? This is too far as of now, my taste buds are yet to grow and mature, that would take a hecking long of a process and I’m not seeing anything starting up now since my taste buds still refuses to accept the bitterness taste in foods.

My memories with bitter gourd was surely, one hell of a misadventure. I had cruel friends pranking me with not just one, but two bitter gourds in both solid in liquid form, my cousin, itching in a little effort, my mom cooking after all the nagging and my grandmother, who is just like me is stubborn, cannot accept the fact that I sincerely despise bitter gourd.

           For now, she’s just nagging, encouraging me is what she calls, telling me that these are good for all the likes and just when she was around my age she used to despise it as well but my decision stands firm at the moment that this was one of my most hateful things in life. Now I just watch, remaining as a bystander as people surrounding me like to make me suffer visually at them eating bitter gourd, tsk- petty people. Kidding! But jokes aside, they really do make me suffer visually with its, again, ugly green curved creatures.

            Sometimes I even think to myself, when I have kids at 7 years of age I will make them follow my tracks and despise bitter gourd as well, but I think karma might take a drastic turn and turn my kids literally green just like green girl—kidding and references aside, I did plan this.

It’s funny how some ugly looking green-ish wrinkled vegetable can make me think and feel this way, I have never used my brain this much over something so simple like this. All I know is this would probably remain constant in a couple of years or more so, possibly even a lifetime if I was that stubborn. But now let’s just continue life and agree that bitter gourds are a no-no for kid like taste buds like me, that If you don’t wish me to choke in tremendous peace, don’t ever attack me with those demonic bitter creatures. I might actually end up doing a rally to perish those ugly curved pieces of bitter gourd.

Thou shall not fall and let others covet thyself in the name of bitter gourd.

[melissaannegrey]

I’d just like to start by saying I’m sorry,  Sarah Mayberry.

She is clearly a master in this genre and it’s taken me all the way until now to pick up any of her material, despite constantly seeing her name.  This miniseries consisting of Take On Me, All Over You, and Hot For Him was recently re-released by Harlequin Blaze, presumably to fill in the rest of the time until Blaze is discontinued and replaced by Dare, a hotter more explicit line. (I am trying to keep an open mind about this change, but Blaze is where I’ve turned for years for a quick hot little number, so I am still crying on the inside…)

Despite the fact that this miniseries was published a decade ago, it still felt relevant, hot, full of tension, and expertly crafted to give me the ultimate sitting on the edge of my seat emotional drama and an ultra-satisfying conclusion to each installment.  I will undoubtedly be picking up some of Ms. Mayberry’s backlist and devouring them over the coming months…

Needless to say, this miniseries earns a 5/5 from me overall.  It’s been a long time since I’ve come across an author I can love and relate to this much, and as an aspiring romance writer myself, this is a lot like striking gold.  I am very excited to get down to business studying the masterful way Ms. Mayberry builds riveting sexual tension and delivers stunning emotionally satisfying conclusions.  As an added bonus for this miniseries, I even got to see the personality transformations of the characters from their individual stories into their friends love lives after finding their love and inner peace.  The only point I could possibly deduct was with Claudia’s story, Hot For Him. It felt just a little rushed.  There was perhaps one too many dramatic points to where I felt I was left with a few questions when the story ended.  But we’ll get there!  On to the book reviews!

The first book to this series is called Take On Me.  It follows the story of Dylan Anderson and Sadie Post as they reunite in the workplace after having a strained animosity-filled relationship in high school.  This combines two of my favorite story types; enemies to lovers, and past flames.  Sadie had a crush on Dylan back then, tried to help him succeed where he struggled, and ended up mortified in front of the whole school by his hand. Dylan never understood that Sadie was trying to help him, and always felt she was trying to point out his flaws.  This is what drove him to embarrass her.  Obviously they were never able to talk about their feelings at that point, so they left school harboring their negativity.

Flash forward to the present in the story, and you’ll find Sadie freshly left at the altar.  She goes on her honeymoon vacation to the Caribbean alone, comes back to her job, the only thing in her life that isn’t in pieces, to find that it has been invaded by her old nemesis Dylan Anderson.  And she has to work directly with him as his immediate superior.

Of course they’re on fire for each other immediately…how could they not be?  Sadie had a helluva crush on Dylan the boy, and Dylan the man is even more potent.  He’s broader, taller, and in command.  And Sadie herself is dynamite, too, of course.  She has grown and matured, filled out, and gained the respect and adoration of everyone she works with as a story writer for Ocean Boulevard, a well rated daytime soap opera.  If Dylan could just see past her curt bitchiness to the woman he hurt…

Every twist and turn of their love affair kept me guessing as we hurdled toward the inevitable Happily Ever After.  Sarah Mayberry was able to keep the tension ever present even as the characters got to know each other, rectified their earlier trials, and had tons of hot sex.

Another point worth mentioning here is the sex itself.  It’s frequent without getting tired.  Ms. Mayberry kept the heat cranked up for the whole story.  Take On Me stands tall and proud on its own as a gorgeous taut romance.  It also served flawlessly as a springboard for me to get to know the other ladies doomed to fall in love in the coming series installations.  Sadie, Grace, and Claudia all worked together on the show, and they had no idea that love was coming for them.  5/5 definitely will read again.

This story was honestly perfect.  It’s worthy study material for me; the lowly girl honing her craft.  And after finally discovering it, I have been transformed into a loyal fan.  Let’s continue on to Grace Wellington’s story, All Over You.

Grace and Mac’s story All Over You was admittedly my favorite of the series.  I particularly loved Grace Wellington.  She’s a hard-ass take no prisoners feminist with unbelievable vintage style, a quick wit, and emotional walls to rival the Great Wall of China.  Grace has ZERO interest in falling in love, and fights against it tooth and nail.  This makes it all the more satisfying when she falls super hard for the impossibly gorgeous Mac Harrison, star of Ocean Boulevard with a brain to boot.  As a bonus twist, Grace has a HUGE physical crush on Mac Harrison.  There were several occasions where she spent time with him while she was alone…if you catch my drift. Wink.

Mac Harrison is bored with his life, and after leaving Ocean Boulevard to get chewed up and spit out by Hollywood, he has resumed his role as Kirk.  Only now, he has ambition to get into directing.  There needs to be more to his life than being pretty in front of a camera.  What’s sexier than ambition?

Grace was Mac’s favorite writer for the show.  When she would do episodes, they always shone brighter with her wit and writing charisma.  He was excited to meet her.  Grace’s abrasive personality took him by surprise, and greatly disappointed him at first.  This disappointment quickly transformed into intrigue, however.  She makes a point of hitting him with as many condescending jabs as she possibly can.  Grace isn’t a man-hater…not quite, anyway.  She has been hurt before by lovers and family alike, and it takes her a long time to open up and heal.

Mac is determined to find out what’s twisted Grace up so tight that she can’t relax and fall in love with him.  She resists until it’s nearly too late, and figures out facing her demons just in time for romantic vindication.  She and Mac get to live Happily Ever After while Grace works to improve her inner peace.

Unfortunately for you, reader, this book was simply too good for me to ruin by giving you concrete details.  All I’ll tell you is that it was really worth the read, and just writing this review makes me want to go back and read it again.  And I just might.  5/5!  Now we just have Hot For Him, Claudia Dostis’ sordid love affair with her hottest rival.  Let’s dive in.

Hot For Him was jam-packed with action, perhaps to a fault.  This is the final installment in the Secret Lives of Daytime Divas miniseries, and it was also my least favorite.  Claudia Dostis is the producer of Ocean Boulevard.  She’s an impossibly petite little firecracker of a woman.  She’s determined to prove she is every bit as capable as everyone else, and nothing, not even love, is going to stand in her way of kicking ass and taking names.

Claudia has more than a few problems to deal with throughout the story.  We start off with her winning an award for Ocean Boulevard on the soap opera equivalent of the Oscar’s.  She’s very excited to have beaten Heartlands, Leandro Mandalor’s soap.

Leandro Mandalor is the producer of Heartlands, the closest rival soap to Ocean Boulevard.  In the past, Leandro has been sneaky and cutthroat.  Claudia doesn’t trust him whatsoever, and really dislikes her attraction to him as he congratulates her on winning the award fair and square.

Talking about my gripes with this story without giving too much away will be tricky, so bear with me.  The first problem Claudia has to deal with involves cast from her show and cast from Leandro’s show getting themselves into a sticky predicament.  Dealing with this involves spending more time with Leandro than Claudia would prefer, but things heat up pretty quickly.  They have stupendous sex from which Claudia quickly withdraws.  She doesn’t want to jeopardize the safety of Ocean Boulevard, and who could blame her?  She just had sex with her rival.

Leandro worms his way into her good graces; he simply cannot stop himself from thinking about her despite his want for a wife and kids.  They form an impromptu relationship where Claudia is constantly guarded and Leandro is constantly pushing.  This is where some of the other problems arise. Meanwhile, we have completely and totally dropped the original issue.

We discover that Leandro has a wonderful close supportive family and Claudia has an estranged non-relationship with her parents.  This causes serious friction.  I felt implored to stand with Claudia as Leandro continued to push her when she began to break.  This is where my main issue with the story lay.  Leandro was a wonderful man, but he would not allow Claudia to open up to him at her own pace.  He became unreasonable with her dealing with big issues regarding her family.

The conclusion of this story didn’t leave me as satisfied as its predecessors, either.  Of course Claudia and Leandro get to live Happily Ever After, but I felt as though there were a lot of things left open ended that were poised to be given an answer.  For one, Claudia’s family relationships.  By the end of the book they are shown as improving, but this lacked detail.  Additionally, the original issue was brought back suddenly, then solved rather anti-climactically.  The suspense in this book was sordid, and I would find myself skimming a little bit, trying to get back to something that would hold my interest.

As the conclusion to it’s own story, it was fairly disappointing, but as the end of the miniseries it felt a lot more satisfying.  This book wouldn’t stand well alone, but works great with the two that come before it.  On it’s own I’d give it a 3/5, but as the end of the series it earns a 5/5.  It leaves me as the reader feeling happy that all the women I grew to adore throughout these books found the love they each needed to have to bring their lives up to the next level.  Everyone moves forward together.

Sarah Mayberry is a star, and she is clearly capable of writing for several audiences.  I am looking forward to digging into her repertoire of published works and soaking up everything I possibly can.  Thank you so much, Sarah!

The Secret Lives of Daytime Divas by Sarah Mayberry: Harlequin Miniseries Review I'd just like to start by saying I'm sorry,  Sarah Mayberry. She is clearly a master in this genre and it's taken me all the way until now to pick up any of her material, despite constantly seeing her name.