#in order to go to any place haunted i have to go far away

[hellishfig]

i aspire to be shane madej

unfortunately i live in new york city and the closest we have to haunted locations is semi-abandoned parking lots

[stayevildarling]

Emily Prentiss x Reader- Breaking Point

A/N: I have just finished watching Season 9, Episode 14 and while watching, I kept thinking about this scenario with reader instead of JJ 🫶🏻

Prompt: The BAU had been working on a case for weeks, so close to finally catching an Unsub before he manages to take you. Emily returns from London as soon as she hears.

tw/tags: mention of unrequited love, mention of abduction, mention of torture, mention of blood, mention of weapons, mention of gunshots, mention of attempted sexual assault, angst/hurt/comfort

word count: 3.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples , @stepintomyworld

,,Go home Y/N'' your boss sighs as he notices you still working through files in the late hours of the night, finally some leads on the case the BAU had been working on for several weeks now, this one tougher than any case had been before. You glance at him, your eyes pleading with him but he doesn't budge, knowing you needed the rest, knowing you are essential to the team and needing you bright and early in the morning. ,,That's an order'' he suggests with a raised eyebrow, yet a smile on his face. ,,Okay'' you sigh, before collecting your things. ,,Good night Hotch'' you mumble as you head to the elevators, feeling the effects this case has had on your body and soul.

You had been part of the BAU for years, putting many criminals away but this had been unlike anything you had seen before, several murders of high rank people, either from law enforcement or the military, the team and you assuming this was something far above your paygrades but trying your best nevertheless. As you step into the bustling city, still busy despite it being the middle of the night, you begin making your way home, walking through the streets while glancing at your phone, staring at your home screen and smiling as you see the photo of Emily she had sent you from London months ago. You know you shouldn't have put it as your screensaver but you had missed her terribly, having seen her with Morgan and Penelope a few months back.

But the pain of her departure had lingered, this case numbing the pain at times but as soon as you stepped away from work, she was haunting you again, in your daydreams and at night when you couldn't sleep. Emily and you had been introduced through the BAU, quickly assigned as partners and working cases together, slowly beginning to learn more about each other until you became inseparable. Always having each other's back, always stolen glances and comforting hands resting near each other. And slowly throughout the years you had began to love Emily, never saying a word as you never thought she could love you back, unaware of her feelings for you that had been obvious to everyone besides you both. And when she told you about the job in London and have her leaving to the other side of the ocean, you struggled to cope with the loss of your partner at work and your sun, her undeniably the reason for you to keep going.

You had been struggling with rough cases, unable to have Emily nearby and invite you over for some wine to unwind while you snuggled on her sofa with Sergio. No one to subtly place a hand on your knee when travelling with the jet and some turbulence hit, Emily knowing you hated those especially. And ever since her leaving you hadn't felt complete, drowning yourself in work instead of dealing with the loss of the greatest thing you never really had anyway. But you rather loved her without her loving you back and had her nearby than the occasional calls and texts from afar.

As you carry on walking, distracted with the pain of Emily‘s absence, you dont notice the person having followed you for a few blocks, usually always having your guard up. And before you can react, you feel a piece of fabric on your mouth and nose, trying to escape the person holding you down but before you can even fight back or scream, shadows haunt your vision and make everything black and quiet for a while. You miss the way the same unsub and ultimately organization that the BAU had been chasing for weeks and had captured you, forced you into a van in an alley and taking you away. You miss the way they throw you into a cold and dark room, your legs and hands chained and how the sun had set a while ago as they left you rotting in the abandoned basement, waiting for you to regain consciousness .

„Where is Y/N?“ Morgan asks as everyone gathers in the briefing room, ready to spend another day on catching the unsub that had been taunting them for weeks. „She was here late last night, Garcia try calling her�� Hotch orders and the blonde instantly nods before trying. „Straight to voicemail sir“ she explains, the concern already written on her face as this was highly unusual for you, even when spending hours at night in the office, always back bright and early the next morning. And your boss knew just as much and so without hesitation he glances at Morgan and Blake before ordering them to check your apartment, having a bad feeling, knowing how serious you are about this job and also knowing how serious the people are that they are currently trying to find.

By the time you snap out of it, your breath hitches and you try moving your hands but notice the handcuffs on you. Blinking a few times you try to understand your surroundings a bit better, the only light source a nearby door, some light creeping in from underneath. You try your hardest to get out of the restraints but without success, only adding to the cuts and bruises on your wrist from the small struggle the night before. It doesn‘t take you long to realize who must have taken you and knowing from the other victims that you had less than 24 hours, sincerly hoping your team would connect the dots and find you in time.

And of course they had figured this out, finding your apartment empty and learning from surveillance that you never returned home, retracing your steps and finding your phone broken and smashed in an alley. They are quick to get back to the BAU, informing the necessary departments and working their hardest on solving this and finding you, knowing time is of the essence. „Any news?“ Morgan asks hours later, having gone over the same steps and different approaches for hours. „The state isn‘t very willing to help“ Hotch sighs, knowing they needed more ressources. „Then what are we gonna do? we need to find her“ Garcia urges before he walks away, nodding in agreement. „We call in reinforcements“ he mutters before he calls the one person he knows cares about you enough to help and also has the resources to get them closer to answers.

„Hotch what‘s wrong?“ Emily‘s voice rings through the phone as she stands in her office. „It‘s Y/N, she‘s been taken“ he explains and before he can give her any details she already grabs her belongings. „Brief me on the plane“ she says in determination before instantly getting on a jet and making her way over, ready to drop everything for you at any given moment. And it doesn’t take the team long to brief her about the case while she flies in, Emily using her connections and position to get as much information as possible and shedding some light on some things you hadn’t been able to solve so far.

„Finally awake“ a dark voice mutters and you glance at the person standing in front of you, recognizing him from one of the photos from the files, not a suspect but having some sort of connection to this whole thing. „What do you want?“ you hiss, feeling anger washing over you for how they had taken and beaten you. „We need information“ he calmly explains before he drags you by the cuffs and sits you on a chair. By the time you figure out what they wanted, you knew you are doomed, they had beaten you for hours trying to get answers out of you about the BAU and you ultimately realize that they had been after Hotch and the team and getting access to all the files all along, all the victims so far only a pawn to get to what they truly wanted and access to the FBI databases.

„I‘m not telling you anything“ you hiss, knowing you would rather die than give them anything. You knew the consequences of giving them the codes and information they wanted, knowing it would end up in the wrong hands, knowing it would put so many more lives at risk. „We‘ll see about that“ another one smirks, the two men having taken turns over the past few hours. He grabs a cloth before putting it on your face and grabbing a bucket of water, causing you to choke and the ability to breathe leaving you as panic begins settling in.

„I‘ve got a hit“ Garica screams as she managed to use some of Emily‘s information and the entire team, including the brunette who had landed a few hours ago, instantly by her side. Meanwhile, you struggle to stay concious, your body bruised and tired, blood running down your face from the repeated beating. They had threatened your team and family but not having any family left and knowing everyone at the BAU was safe, knowing they would have figured this out by now, you don‘t give in, knowing other than to you, there was no real danger. And as the fight to stay alive and concious grows harder, your mind takes you back to Emily. Her eyes and how you would so often get lost in them, her soft hands and how they would make you feel safe. In your delusional state, she is right there, telling you it‘s okay and to let go.

You had never fallen for anyone the way you had for Emily. She was your sun on a rainy day, your own guardian angel, always having your back on cases, never letting you walk into a scene alone. You would cry on each other‘s shoulder after a rough case or laugh at silly jokes together and celebrate your successes together. You adored her confidence and how she never backed down in life ever. You loved how fierce and determined, yet truly kind she was. No one in the BAU understood victims the way Emily did, no one comforted them quite like she did and it caused your heart to flutter every single time when witnessing it. And your mind slips to how she may react when hearing this, if you couldn‘t make it out of this alive, wishing and hoping you could have seen her once more and told her all the things you had been too scared to tell her so far.

„She‘s not gonna break“ one of the unsubs sighs in frustration as the other one paces in circles. „We will see about that“ a third one appears, you too far out of it by now to realize what is going on or even attempt to remember their faces and voices or figure out their identities. He walks over with a revolver, dragging you up and pouring a bucket of cold water over you, snapping you out of your state momentarily as the shock takes over. „Answers now“ he demands before he presses the gun firmly to your temples, counting down before holding down the trigger. You had done this sort of stuff in your training before but nothing could have prepared you for how truly terrifying this was, knowing at any given moment it could all be over. The pain in your body and head is overwhelming but still you don‘t break, the determination to keep your family safe and not give them what you had worked years for to protect.

„Fine“ one of them mutters before walking over and messing with his belt, knife in his hand. „Maybe this will get you to loosen up“ he smirks before he begins undressing you, knife pressed firmly against your throat, the blood running down your neck. „Please don’t“ you cry out, internally hating yourself for giving them something, for showing them fear and knowing this was your breaking point. You close your eye and brace for what is about to happen, knowing you would never give them what they wanted and sincerly hoping they would kill you after this as you couldn‘t stand this for much longer.

But just seconds before they manage to succeed and break you, the door bursts open, flashlights momentarily blinding your vision as you hear your teams voices and gunshots seconds later, the unsub dropping to his knees in front of you. „Oh god“ you hear Emily‘s voice as she runs towards you, instantly getting you out of the chains as you collapse into her arms. The shock and pain run so deep that you dont even register who ended up saving you, that the woman of your dreams was truly right there, holding and soothing you as she takes your shivering body into her arms and carries you outside to an ambulance. You are in and out of it for a while, the bright lights from inside the ambulance blinding you, your ears ringing from the sirens but feeling someone holding your hand, assuming it was a member of your team, unaware it was Emily, the concern written deeply on her features as she stays beside you every step of the way.

It takes hours of pain medication, the doctors doing all sorts of checks and you laying in a hospital bed for you to wake up again, greeted by the steady beeping of machines that you are hooked up to and bustling noises from the corridor of the busy hospital. You can still feel the same person holding your hand, wondering as you open your eyes who would have been there this entire time. Once your eyes open, they fall upon Emily, who‘s head rests on your bed, her hand never having stopped to hold yours. She is awake in an instant as she notices the slight tremble in your hand and her features brighten once seeing you awake. „Hi“ she whispers, her eyes brimming with tears, despite trying to hold them in, seeing you so bruised, beaten and hurt. She had always felt protective over you, hating that she let this happen while she was away, consumed by guilt.

„Emily?“ you ask a little confused, your voice still rough from what your body had been through. „I‘m here“ she smiles sadly, her chin quivering ever so slightly. Your eyebrows furrow before you speak again „But why?“ you ask confused, not understanding the connection between the BAU and Interpol for this case. And she can tell, almost smiling at your dorkiness if it wasn‘t for the severity of the situation and the hell they had put you through. „I‘m here for you, silly“ she chuckles a little, squeezing your hand a little tighter and you realize then she had saved you and never stopped holding your hand from the moment you collapsed into her arms until now. You want to speak, ask her why she had gone through such lengths and flown all this way for you but you remain silent.

When your gaze averts hers for a moment, the flashbacks overwhelming you for a second, a thick silence follows, a painful one as Emily can see it in your eyes you are deeply traumatized by what they had done to you. „Honey?“ she snaps you out of it gently before your eyes lock with her own again. „Can I- I ask you something?“ she stutters and you nod weakly before she glances at your body. „Did they- did he?“ she struggles to finish her sentence but you quickly shake your head and she sighs in relief, a tear streaming down her face and with a shaky hand you manage to wipe it away. „Thank you“ you whisper, your voice weak and tired, knowing those words aren‘t enough but for now they are all you can manage. „Always sweetie“ she chuckles before giving you an encouraging nod that you could rest. „How long?“ you mumble as you try and keep your eyes open. „Don‘t worry about that right now, I‘ll be right here when you wake up“ she promises and you nod before letting sleep wash over you again.

And Emily being Emily, she kept her promise, staying by your hospital bed until you were ready to go home, driving you home and looking after you, helping your body and soul recover. She covered for you in the BAU for a while until you were cleared by the doctors, several evaluations later. Currently, the two of you sit in your apartment, after a long day back at the BAU, Emily insisting on accompanying you and making sure it all goes smoothly. Two glasses of wine by your side and a movie playing in the background. Your eyes dart between her and the tv, trying to ignore your racing heart and the familiarity of having her beside you, wishing every evening could look like this.

„Em?“ you ask carefully before her head snaps towards you, a soft smile on her face before concern takes over as she sees the sadness on your face. „What‘s wrong?“ she asks, having been worried about you, knowing what had happened affected you more than you led on. „I was just wondering- when.. when are you going home?“ you ask, her eyes averting yours for a moment as you try and not let your emotions wash over you how you feel about the thought of her leaving. There is silence for a while before she reaches for the remote, pausing the TV and turning her body towards you. „I was talking to Hotch and I was thinking about staying.. for good“ she explains camly, despite the small smile in the corner of her lips. „What?“ you ask confused, your eyebrows furrowing upon hearing her words. „There are several positions for me, including section chief and I miss profiling“ she explains and you listen intently to her every word.

„But what about Interpol and London?“ you ask confused but she shakes her head and chuckles. „I did my fair share there and learnt a lot but.. I think I‘m ready to come home“ she explains, her eyes a little teary. Her words don‘t register properly and so you stammer out a quiet „Are you doing this because of me? because if you are - Emily I‘m fine I promise“. There is silence as she reaches for your trembling hand, taking it into her own before her eyes lock with yours. „I- it is but not because of that“ she explains and yet again your eyebrows furrow in confusion. She knows she should have done this a long time ago, her feelings for you never leaving her, the distance from London to you only making it much harder as she hadn‘t been able to focus on much without you by her side.

„I don‘t want to be so far away from you anymore“ she admits, struggling to lay out her emotions and vulnerable side in front of you. „Emily what are you saying?“ you ask confused as your heart beats considerably faster inside your chest. „Don‘t you know?“ she asks after a pause and the way her eyes sparkle and her hand holds onto you, it suddenly makes sense. Why she came in the first place and why she hadn’t left your side. She cared and loved you just as much as you loved her. „I do- I just can‘t believe you..“ you answer but pause, the words too raw and scary to be said. „That I love you? because Y/N I do“ she admits, suddenly a completely different side to Emily, her usual carefulness and vulnerability replaced with an openness that takes your breath away.

Your eyes fill with tears, never having thought the events from the last few weeks would lead to this. „I love you Emily“ you admit in return, your eyes speaking to each other and your hearts beating in synch. At first your eyes dance together before the gap between you closes, letting out all the raw emotions and whispered confessions, the fear of this not being requited go. But the two of you leave it at this for now, knowing this was only the beginning of what you two deserved. „Come here“ she orders as she sees your tear stained vision, holding you in her arms. The two of you lay together in silence, soaking up each other‘s warmth and what neither of you had allowed to happen in the past few years. „You okay there sweetheart?“ she asks after several hours of comfortable silence and you nod into her chest before she sees a cheeky smirk on your face.

„What?“ she asks with a raised eyebrow before you mumble „If getting taken means this then I‘ll gladly volunteer again“ you joke but she doesn‘t laugh, this being too soon and too raw still. „Too soon?“ you ask with a pout and half smirk and she nods before kissing your forehead. „Definitely too soon but I adore you silly“ she smiles. And the two of you stay this way, neither of you letting go, knowing now that the truth is out there, you wouldn‘t leave each other ever again, Emily finally having found her true home and purpose, you.

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Orc! Husband who is a great warrior and leader, knows nothing but being used as a sword, a means to an end who's disillusioned and tired and accepts he's gonna die another pawn in another war, meeting a sweet human, a peasant from a local village who sees him as so much more. (The idea of some large war worn orc getting his scarred face caressed for the first time, being touched kindly for the first time having lived a lifetime of war)

i love this anon

warnings/tags- war mentions, i dont give the orc a name (i just call him orc/him) reader is gn (please dm me if their are any mistakes you see)

sorry this took so long for me to post

word count- 1667

The world was caught in a cycle of war. It was all you had ever known—villages burnt, homes lost, and people fleeing. The once fertile land surrounding your small village had been reduced to ash by decades of fighting. Your family had passed when you were young, victims of an earlier invasion. Now, you lived alone on the outskirts, tending to a humble garden, surviving day by day, hidden away from the larger conflicts that ravaged the region.

One day, word spread that another army was passing through. hims, they said. Great and terrible warriors, driven by bloodlust, used as weapons by those who wished to conquer the land. The mere mention of them sent shivers down your spine. You'd never seen an orc before, but the tales of their brutality haunted your nights.

But life had to go on. War was as much a part of your existence as the soil beneath your feet. You’d tended your small garden early in the morning, pulling weeds and harvesting what little grew in the rough soil, when you saw him.

He was massive—nearly seven feet tall with broad shoulders and green, scarred skin that glistened under the midday sun. He moved like a predator, every step deliberate and filled with the weight of someone who knew the battlefield like the back of his hand. His face was hard, worn from years of battle. His tusks jutted out from his lower jaw, and his eyes, dark and tired, scanned the landscape without emotion. His armor was dented and scratched, his war axe hanging loosely by his side.

You froze in place, heart pounding in your chest. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but his presence was enough to send a bolt of fear through your spine. Should you run? Hide? But as you hesitated, he turned his gaze in your direction, his sharp eyes locking with yours.

He didn’t move.

You held your breath, waiting for him to charge, to raise his axe, to shout in fury as the stories had always described. But he didn’t. He just stood there, staring at you. His posture was tense, but there was no hostility in his eyes. Just exhaustion, a deep weariness that went beyond the physical. 

Slowly, you stood, wiping your hands on your apron as you tried to gather your courage. “I-I’m not armed,” you stammered, not knowing what else to say. Your voice trembled, but you stood your ground, unable to look away from the giant in front of you.

He blinked slowly, as if processing your words. His brow furrowed, and for the first time, his lips parted to speak. His voice was gravelly, deep and tired. “I am… not here to fight.”

His words shocked you. Orcs were supposed to be mindless brutes, weren't they? Tools of war and destruction. But there was something in his voice—something that told you he was more than that. Something that hinted at a story far deeper than the legends you'd grown up with.

"I... I see," you replied, unsure of what to do with this information. "Why are you here, then?"

him seemed to consider this for a moment. His eyes drifted across the barren landscape, as if searching for an answer he didn’t have. Finally, he spoke again, his words slow and deliberate. “I was following orders. But the battle is done. And now, I am here.”

There was a sadness in his voice, a resignation that tugged at your heart. You hadn’t known kindness in a long time yourself, not since the war had taken everything from you. And here stood a creature—a warrior—who had clearly suffered more than most. It was a strange feeling, but you didn’t want to leave him there, lost in his own despair.

You took a tentative step forward. “Do you… do you need help?”

Heturned to face you fully now, eyes narrowing slightly. “Help?” he echoed, as if the word was foreign to him.

You nodded, swallowing your fear as best as you could. “Yes. I… I don’t know much about orcs, but… if you’re lost, or need food, I can offer you what little I have.”

He seemed taken aback. His dark eyes softened, just for a moment, and you could see the wariness in him begin to waver. “Why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why would you help me?”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain it yourself. "Because... you seem like you’ve had enough pain. And I know what that’s like."

He stared at you, unblinking, as if trying to decipher your words. Then, without a word, he sheathed his axe, the sound of metal scraping metal filling the silence between you.

"I am Orc," he said simply, as though it was the only name he had ever known.

You offered him a small, hesitant smile. "I'm... I'm Y/N. Come, if you're hungry, I have some food. It's not much, but it's something."

And so it began. He followed you back to your small home, his massive presence intimidating, yet strangely protective. Over the next few days, you learned more about him—not through stories, but through his actions. He wasn’t the mindless killer you’d feared. He was quiet, thoughtful even, though his words were few. He helped you in the garden, chopping wood with ease, fixing things around the house that had been neglected for too long. He never spoke of the war or the battles he had fought, but the scars on his body told enough of the story.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you sat together by a small fire. The crackling of the flames was the only sound between you for a while, until you finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been gnawing at you for days.

“.. why did you stay?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. “I have known nothing but war. I was made for it. Used for it. There was always another battle, another fight. I thought that was all there was.”

You watched him carefully, noticing how his hands clenched and unclenched as he spoke.

“But when I met you…” His voice trailed off, as if he was unsure how to continue. “You did not look at me as a weapon. You did not fear me.”

Your heart ached for him. Slowly, you reached out, placing your hand gently on his arm. His skin was rough and scarred, but beneath it, you could feel the warmth of someone who had long been deprived of kindness. His entire body tensed under your touch, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he looked down at your hand, his brow furrowing in confusion, as if he couldn’t comprehend why someone would want to touch him in such a way. He had known nothing but pain and violence—his body bore the marks of countless battles, each one a reminder of what he was made to do.

Gently, you let your fingers brush against his face, tracing the deep scars that lined his jaw and cheek. His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw something break in his eyes. He wasn’t just a warrior. He was someone who had been used and discarded, left to fight battles that weren’t his own.

"You’re more than just a weapon," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "You deserve more than this life of war."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if it was the first time someone had ever reached out to him with kindness. The tension in his body melted away, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders.

“I… don’t know how to be anything else,” he admitted, his voice strained with vulnerability.

"Then let me show you," you said, your thumb gently brushing across his scarred cheek. "Let me show you that there's more to life than fighting."

In that moment, something shifted between you. The wall he had built around himself began to crumble, and him, the warrior who had known nothing but war, allowed himself to hope. Hope for something more, something better.

And in that hope, you both found solace.

---

As the days passed, he stayed. What had once been a strange and cautious arrangement became a companionship neither of you had expected. He helped you tend the garden, his strength turning the earth with ease. You taught him how to appreciate the small things—the sound of the wind in the trees, the feeling of warm sunlight on his skin, the simple joy of sharing a meal with someone who cared.

And slowly, he began to open up. He told you stories of his battles, not with pride, but with a sense of regret, of loss. He had been a tool, a weapon wielded by others, never given the chance to choose his own path.

But now, with you, he had found something different. Something worth fighting for—not with a sword, but with his heart.

You fell in love, slowly but surely. It was in the quiet moments, the shared glances, the way he protected you without ever needing to raise his weapon. And one night, as the stars twinkled overhead, you whispered the words that had been growing in your heart.

“I love you.”

He stared at you, his dark eyes filled with an emotion so raw, so powerful, that it nearly took your breath away. “I… love you too, Y/N.”

For the first time in his life, he let himself be vulnerable. He let himself feel something other than the cold steel of a weapon in his hand, something other than the rage of battle that had driven him for so long. He let himself feel love.

[milky-aeons]

— REASON LIVING

౨ৎ . . . in which a man with no reason to live finds an unlikely one through the tribulations of being a father.

warnings: emotional dysregulation, slight angst, unplanned pregnancy, alcohol consumption, poor parenting (in the beginning), conflict, suicidal ideation, depression, depictions of birth, female reader, healing, w.c 2.4k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ dancing on my own — vitamin string quartet ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who wasn't ready to be a mother. Not now, perhaps not ever — was a rule you had laid in stone for yourself as a free-spirit intent on enjoying life to its fullest. It was why the world had tuned out into white noise when Yosano Akiko held the small test in her hand and spoke those terrifying words. With a shutter of sympathy in her eyes, coming to place a hand on your shoulder to give it a firm, comforting squeeze. She knew just as well how much you didn't want this to be true. Her touch felt condemning. You felt like you were going to vomit, just like you had been for the last four mornings in a row. Because how were you going to tell him?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who didn't blink, didn't draw breath, didn't do anything when you let the words stumble from your mouth in one panicked rush. It was a bright afternoon deep into summer and the Agency's café was quiet — private enough for the two of you to have this conversation. You and Dazai Osamu — you were not an item, had been content to have casual shared nights together when either of you wanted to blow off a little steam. But that night, you had said to him, do you remember that night? When we were both drunk and stupid, so stupid?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, in that moment, decided not to grace you with any words. Instead, he did something far more uncharacteristic of him; he stayed quiet. He gave one shallow nod of his head and placed a hand softly onto the table so he could stand up. To steady himself, to ground himself back down when you had turned his world completely overhead, you did not know. And Dazai, who left you there, excusing himself in order to get some fresh air. The raking bastard that he was. Not once did he turn back to look you directly in the eye. Not even when you stood up, shouted his name, screamed at him, until tears spilled over your cheeks and your throat burned with the pain.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who saw life through a lens of grey in the couple of days following. Sometimes, you would feel so heavy that you did not wish to rise out of bed. The word swam around in your head like the song of a haunting ghoul — a mom, a mom, I am going to be a mom. Yosano would drop by your Agency apartment after work to see how you were doing, feeling your forehead, bringing you remedies to help with the nausea that roiled in your stomach. Every time, you would resist the temptation to ask where he was. And yet every time, Yosano would still tell you;

"He didn't come to work today, either."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who slowly came to grips with the fact that this was how it was going to be. The initial shock of it all was as relentless as it was condemning, but it was not infinite. The sun rose the next day, and the next, the world kept moving and you decided that you would have to, as well. That there was a little life growing inside your warm belly that needed a mother, no matter how unprepared you were for that fact. And, if you could do something about it, needed their father. You were not letting him just walk away from you, from the both of you, that easily.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was exactly where you thought he would be when you set out that evening to find him. Of course, if he wanted to, Dazai Osamu had both the cleverness and the connections to absolutely disappear from the streets of Yokohama without a trace. If he wanted to, he could have abandoned you and this baby completely. But he didn't. Instead, he was here, laying sprawled long and lazy on his messy, unmade futon in his messy, unclean house, as if waiting to be found. When he heard you pass over the threshold of the door he didn't lock, he gave you a long, languid smile.

"My bewitching Beeella~! At looong last, she has come to tempt me!" He slurred his speech, bringing your attention to the heavy scent in the air and the dozen or so bottles strewn about haphazardly. His hair was matted and unwashed. He looked just like you, curled in your bed, refusing to move for days. But unlike you, he was completely and utterly intoxicated. "You look awful." You said in a low voice. Hurt at how he abandoned you in the coffee shop was still a fresh, gaping wound. As if his head was too heavy, Dazai let it flop back down onto the cushions. He waved his hands about. "And you... look just as beautiful... as always. But—It is a trap...! A ruuuuse! A beautiful Bellaaa, sent from my torment... to tie me to this mortal coil!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who let him ramble his litany of incoherencies. If only for a few merciful seconds. When you felt like you had had enough, or perhaps fearful with how far he'd take it, you kicked one of the empty glass bottles. It skirted across his floorboards and hit a neighbouring wall, exploding into countless little shards. He looked up then, attracted to the noise, trying to focus on you with his glazed whiskey-coloured eyes. In that moment, you stood your tallest, and just like the bottle you mustered up every last shred of yourself until you built it all back together.

"You." You pointed at him, feeling your voice come on thick, but strong. "You listen to me and listen to me well, I'm only going to say this once, and if you're too fucking drunk to remember it, then more is the pity. But I'm carrying your baby—our god damn baby. And if you're not going to step up and be the father they're going to need, then I'll be that for you. Just say the word, Dazai. Say the word and I'll leave. You'll never hear from me or this child ever again."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who said nothing in contest to that statement, but also said nothing to affirm it, either. His wide, unfocused eyes studied every feature on your face, trying to make sense of something you didn't know. And for a second, your heartrate kicked up. Because somewhere deep down inside, you wanted him to tell you to stay. You wanted him to sober up, to wear that charming, all-endearing smile and convince you that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't. And that was the moment you deflated with a sigh — laying out all the feelings you once had for him on the floor, ready to cast it to the wind. You had made it to his doorway when two strong, heavy arms came around you and all of his weight collapsed against your shoulders.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who buried his head into the crook of your neck, who's hair tickled your face and made your eyes sting with tears. He, who smelled of whiskey and liqueur, but in that moment, held you so tight, crushed you against his taller frame and croaked;

"Stay."

"Please... just, stay."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who seemed like he had undergone a transformation overnight. He always did have a strange knack for that — changing his persona so easily, crafting masks and façades. And maybe it was just that, at least in the beginning. But he had started to come back to work, again. You would enter the familiar doors early in the mornings to the tell-tale sounds of his teasing tone and Kunikida's threats. When you would walk in, he'd straighten up from whatever headlock the blond had trapped him into, and catch your eye.

"Good morning." You would whisper. "Good morning, beautiful Bella." He would murmur right back.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who became used to the weight in your tummy growing heavier each day. It was Atsushi, at first, who recognised the shift in your scent and the sound of a little heartbeat in your belly through his superior feline hearing. Soon after, everyone in the Agency were offering you gifts and well wishes. Dazai received a less warm ovation. Especially from Kunikida, who threatened to flush him into the drainage system if he even thought about being one of those shitty laid-back dads who let the mom do all the work.

"That's cruel, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai whined at him. "To think of the rigid, torturous lifestyle your children will have to endure!" He just barely dodged the office chair that was hurled at his head.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, after a short while, began to let Dazai close to you again. And maybe it was foolish of you, to let that thing which always existed between you two take spark and kindle with new life. First, it was sitting together in the same booth in the coffee shop. Then, it was gentle, quiet touches — his hand brushing your back as he walked past, your fingers twining together underneath the desk where no one could see. He stole you away for long walks in the nearby park when you should have been working. To your protests, he'd pout, and say, but a pregnant lady needs to enjoy as much rest as she can~! And then, he'd kiss you. Underneath the great spurting fountain at the centre of the park. Long and sweet and promising.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who one time, when you were especially close to your due date and he was feeling especially silly, drew a large smiley face on your swollen belly. Or peppered a shower of kisses along the stretched skin, telling you she was taking too long, that he couldn't wait any longer and had too many kisses saved up for her, already. And on that day where you did go into labour, he held your hand, he placed those lips on your forehead and whispered gentle encouragements as you screamed through the pain.

"You are strong, my beautiful [Name]. Come on, can you give one more push? Just one more." "You're doing so great. You are so unbelievable, so resilient and brave. My beautiful Belladonna, that's it. You can do it."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, along with the chorus of elated cries from the Armed Detective Agents, made a sound of disbelief when his baby girl came into the world. Slick and wet, red and crying, but beautiful. A copy of her mother's features but with a wild head of curly brown hair. An emotion Dazai had not felt in an extremely long time crept up the back of his throat. It made him laugh, it made his eyes smart with tears. And when he came to your side to see your baby be placed onto your bare chest, a single tear escaped from the side of his eye and got lost when he buried his head into your hair.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who never thought he would ever grow attached to someone. There was you, of course, but if he sat with the discomfort of viewing his life without you in it, it could be done. But trying to see his life without her — his little baby girl — his mind would simply draw a blank. It was unbearable, impossible. Before long, Dazai had insisted you move into his apartment so he could be closer to you. After, of course, you threatened him to scrub the entire place from head-to-toe and remove anything non-child friendly in a black plastic bag. And he did. He used those nimble, clever hands to build the baby a little wooden crib. He would rock her to sleep and place her down, only to watch her for minutes, hours, contemplating how in the world he was ever bestowed with such a blessing.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who sang lullabies to her. Who sang at every given chance he had. For he was such a lovely singer, his soft, velvety voice would be a common thing amongst the walls of your little apartment. Who would sit down with the toddler and teach her all the words he knew.

"Can you say 'Kunikida' my little star?" "Kuni—Kuni—Kooni—!" "Kun—ee—kee—dah!" On the 'dah', he'd pinch her nose. "Kun—eeeee—keeeee—dah!" "Wow~!" Dazai pinched her nose again and she giggled. "Darling, did you hear that? Our little star is a genius." "She takes after her father." You would say from around the bend of the kitchen. Praises and chuckles and the shrieks of a delighted baby would fill the air. Dazai would then drop his voice, thinking you wouldn't hear, and say, "Now, can you say, 'is a bore!'" "Dazai!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who always took his little girl to work with him. Everyone in the Agency fell in love with her very quickly. Atsushi would transform his hands into that of giant tiger paws, pretending to growl, letting her pull at the little tufts even though it hurt him just a tad. Ranpo would ask the little baby mind-numbing riddles, then laugh, proclaiming how she barely had any braincells, but not to worry, because when she's old enough, he'd take her as his apprentice. Kunikida, who would let her handle his little ideal book, and then hold back tears when she ripped one of the pages out of it. The little girl would hold the page up high and from her little perch on the table, shout,

"Kuneeekeeda... is... a boooore!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was still laughing when he met you on the terrace roof of the Agency that night. He went straight for his little girl and held her up in the air, proclaiming that he was so proud of her. You would settle down together, just the three of you, huddled on the concrete tiles and watching the sun set over the skyline of Yokohama.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would hold your daughter on your lap until her curly brown head of hair tilted into your shoulder and she snored softly. In that moment, you would crane your head onto Dazai's broad shoulder, and whisper;

"I'm glad I stayed."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who would run his long fingers across his sleeping daughter's face softly, so softly, so as not to wake her. Then, he would reach up to you and cup the side of your cheek, captivating you, looking at you with an expression so warm and tender as he whispered right back;

"And I am forever grateful."

requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (Part 2/?)

(Part one, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven. Also on AO3)

Robin inhaled softly as Batman strode past his hiding spot. He placed his hands over his mouth and held still within the hiding spot he had found in the spaceship. He could see Superman glance in his direction, but thankfully, he didn't say anything as he floated alongside Batman to go to the command room.

When he heard them leave, Robin quickly followed after them.

When Batman had left him to go to space of all things, Robin knew what he had to do. With the help of Wonder Woman, who had laughed herself silly when he had asked before gleefully complying, he was able to sneak onto the spacecraft without Batman knowing.

It wasn't fair if Bruce got to go to space but he couldn't!

It was space!

Robin followed them quietly and watched as both Batman and Superman stood around the computer monitor that was built into the spacecraft. Green Lantern was already there, staring through the wide window above the monitor at the dark void. Although it was dark, several whirling stars and strange planets all shone brightly and spun in place. The screen itself held several different pictures, and each of them flickered and brightened as sounds came from the screen.

Robin's eyes widened in awe as he strained his ears to listen in.

The sounds were beautiful, like something that he would've heard at a church choir. The singing was ethereal and spooky all in one, echoing with a haunting quality to it like it was underwater.

Like a siren's song.

Robin had to clench his fingers in order to hold himself back from lurching forward, wanting to be even closer.

But who were the people singing?

Green Lantern crossed his arms when he saw the two of them enter.

“Took you two long enough. How did you find this galaxy? I haven’t heard anything about it, even from the Corps.”

Superman answered, “We were testing the new spacecraft for interstellar travel and decided to see if we could go far enough and maybe meet some sentient life forms that could join the Justice League,” he rubbed the back of his head and continued, “Well, we reached this place and then discovered them and made contact. Batman and I asked them if they would help us in the future, and they said they would.”

Green Lantern looked unimpressed. He turned to Batman and asked, “So I guess you were paranoid enough to call me?”

“… yes. And I contacted Zatanna as well.” Robin could tell that Batman was disgruntled by his own powerlessness by the way his voice was tight, like he was gritting his teeth.

He stifled a laugh at the thought of Batman being helpless. He loved Bruce, but oh boy, it was funny seeing him struggle.

Green Lantern shrugged. “I honestly can’t tell you much, because I can’t fly around here like I’d like, even with the ring. Supes, you’ve seen how dangerous this part of space is, right?”

Superman seemed excited to have someone understand. “Yes! The pressure and gravitational pull was very strong. I was only able to escape because I was far away enough and got away in time. The pull definitely seemed to match that of several astronomical objects combining into one. However, it shouldn’t be possible.”

Robin rolled his eyes. When were they going to be interesting?

He sank to the ground and hugged his knees, tilting his head to keep an eye on the three.

Green Lantern nodded. “I agree. It’s definitely way too strong, and usually, any other astronomical object would have collided with one another now, but those are definitely not normal. They’re not bound with logic or science. They even have planets circling around them.”

“We discovered that as well. They spoke with us and we determined that they were sentient,” Batman said. “It is most likely why they haven’t collided yet.”

Robin closed his eyes, leaning against the wall and focusing on the soft singing that continued to play. It lulled him into something like a doze. The song was just so beautiful and soothing, calm, yet strong. It was like a lullaby, one that he was beginning to love.

Green Lantern continued to speak, “It’s the singing, right? The ones singing are the four in the middle?”

“It seems to be all of them in this area, actually.” Batman sighed. “They mentioned two other planets the last time we spoke.”

Green Lantern hummed and turned to the monitor. “I want to try speaking with them. May I?”

Batman nodded and Green Lantern leaned in closer.

He tapped the screen and the sound was enough to rouse Robin. He blinked away the sleepiness and focused in on the room again. Superman glanced in his direction but didn’t say anything.

“Hey! Anyone there?”

The singing continued.

Green Lantern frowned. “Are you sure they spoke to you?”

“Yes,” Bruce growled.

“Try being polite?” Superman suggested.

“… hello? This is Green Lantern speaking. Can someone please respond?”

Robin held his breath as he poked his head into the door, leaning in as close as he could in order to see what would happen next.

The singing slowed to a stop, and so did the flickering on the screen. The sound of static and ocean waves filled the room for a moment.

And then, just like that, the screen spoke with the sound of a thousand voices—

"Hello."

Green Lantern’s eyebrows rose. “Well damn. Nice to meet you.”

"Hello again," Superman interrupted, beaming. "Are you all well? It's good to see you again!"

"We are well, Kal-el."

Superman’s smile went tight but didn’t say anything. Green Lantern glanced at him but was also silent.

Robin was focused on the sound of their voices. It was melodic, kind of like a little choir of voices speaking as one.

Robin's eyes widened again as he thought about it.

Amazing!

Were they speaking to the stars?

The stars continued to speak, “Hal Jordan, son of Martin, what do you seek?”

Green Lantern looked at Batman and Superman, who didn’t look surprised. He frowned heavily.

“Did you all know my identity before?” He addressed Superman and Batman with a glare. 

Superman said awkwardly, “No,” while Batman didn’t reply, so it was probably a yes.

He continued to demand, “Do they do this every time?”

“I think so? But Batman hasn’t spoken to them yet,” Superman said, looking at Batman, who still didn’t respond.

Green Lantern grimaced, turning away to look at the stars again before he then answered them.

“… I seek answers.”

“Ask, and you shall receive.” To Robin, they sounded a little tired by his questions. When looking at the adults’ faces though, they didn’t seem to notice.

Robin suddenly felt like he should’ve stepped out.

He was perhaps the only one who could understand these stars.

Green Lantern continued, “Could you tell us your names? Do you know what galaxy this is in?”

“… we have no more names. We are kept far, far away from any living planets except our own.”

“Is there a reason you’re so far away?”

“Yes.”

They waited, but there was no further response. Green Lantern grimaced again, glowering at Batman for putting him in this situation with a clearly very socially awkward galaxy.

“Can you tell us why?”

“No.”

Green Lantern asked, “Are you a danger to us?”

“No.”

“How can we be sure?”

“We’d swallow you if we were.”

Green Lantern eyed the stars with a deep frown. Robin tried to look at them as best as he could, observing the pulsing and glowing stars. The planets that circled them were quite fast, and Robin watched it all with an ever growing sense of awe.

In particular, he focused on the four in the middle, 2 white colored star-like things and a black hole, as well as a wide and glowing orb. The black hole looked intimidating, but it was so cool that Robin couldn’t help but lean past the door.

Green Lantern continued, “I am a Green Lantern. Do you know what that is?”

“We know of everything.”

Green Lantern turned around and muttered, “Jesus Christ.” He looked out the glass windows at the four revolving stars and black holes and then down at the monitor. “How come nobody knows about you?”

“Clockwork hid us….” Their voices were soft, reminiscent.

“Who?”

They didn’t answer, their silence sounding hesitant and worried. Robin hated that they seemed so fearful, as if they were protecting their mysterious Clockwork from them.

“Why?” Green Lantern pushed. Even Batman and Superman were growing agitated at the lack of any actual answers.

“… For our safety.”

Green Lantern nodded and said, “Thank you for answering our questions. That’s all for now.”

Then he pulled away, as the singing immediately picked up again, a little more rushed than before. He looked at Batman and Superman and asked, “Do we have any idea what a “Clockwork” is? Or who it is?”

“I’ve never heard of someone named that,” Batman shook his head.

Superman raised a finger, asking to speak as he said, “I have noticed that this galaxy is in the direction of the Horologium constellation. Horologium means “clock”. Maybe there’s a link between the two?”

“Makes sense. Now what? Do we even need to do anything? They’re seriously uncooperative and I think they’re being vague on purpose.”

Superman frowned. "Green Lantern," he began sternly, but the Green Lantern then put his hands up.

"Okay, first of all, I am way out of my depth here. Intergalactic threats are one thing, children that were forced to become stars is a whole separate matter."

“You already read the report, why are you complaining?” Batman grumbled.

However, Robin ignored the squabble that then ensued as his eyes widened. Children?

Were they in trouble?

Robin needed to help! As Batman’s partner and equal, he was better equipped to help than these three!

These three clearly weren’t suited for this!

Green Lantern scowled. “We have no way of knowing if they’re being truthful or not. My suggestion is that we continue to observe them in the meantime and if they want to “help” us, we take it with a grain of salt.”

Batman nodded. “Exactly my thinking.”

Superman looked a little anxious. “Aren’t we going to help them too? They said that they were human once…”

“Why bother? They don’t even act like it’s an inconvenience.”

Robin grit his teeth.

He knew it! These adults were useless! These stars were kids like him, so they needed to be helped by a kid too. If Robin was able to help, they would surely be better off than with these losers!

Robin loved Superman and Batman (he never really met Green Lantern before, but he disliked him now), but clearly, he was the man for the job.

Superman seemed to be on the same wavelength as him and said, “Let’s ask them! Maybe if we insist, they can give us more information as to why they were changed.”

"Superman, while I appreciate how you hold hope for helping everyone, I really don't think you can help... these." Green Lantern gestured to the window, where the four glowing beings were still spinning in place.

Robin felt heat flare up in his chest at his dismissive tone. How dare he brush off these stars!

Of course, if Robin had been older and not as hot-tempered and determined to hate Green Lantern, he would've seen that he seemed tired. All three of the adult heroes were confused by these beings and could not understand them, not like how Robin could. To them, it was a group of sentient, possibly highly dangerous stars that rivaled their own Sun, that could consume them all in great flames and heat.

They were paranoid, confused, and jaded, and that didn’t make a good combination when faced with beings that they could not understand, beings that they could not help and could kill them without moving.

But Robin didn't know that, so he was still fuming as Green Lantern continued speaking.

"There's no guarantee that Zatanna can help them. And we've only just started the Justice League a few months ago. We don't have many routes to help and we don't know if we can trust them. Or if they're being truthful."

Superman frowned.

"But..." he looked to Batman for help.

Batman was silent, avoiding his gaze.

Robin held back a sigh. Batman seemed allergic to emotions again. If Robin was there, he probably could've backed up Superman.

Adults were so annoying.

Green Lantern huffed. “I’ll ask them, okay? Stop looking at me like that, it feels weird that I’m falling for a grown man’s puppy eyes.”

Superman muttered to himself sullenly, “I wasn’t giving puppy eyes.”

Green Lantern addressed the little galaxy again, their song filling the room before he said, “Excuse me? I have one more question.”

The crackling singing stopped suddenly, and Robin got the feeling that they were annoyed and apprehensive.

“Speak.”

Green Lantern cleared his throat and asked, “Do you need any help? With anything? It’s only right that we help you if you’re helping us.”

More silence. Now it seemed kind of hesitant again.

“Is there anything at all? Anyone we can call?”

One voice in particular suddenly spoke up over the silence.

“… Robin.”

There was silence as Batman stood there, dumbfounded. "Who?"

Robin’s eyes widened. Were the stars talking about him?

Superman flinched.

Batman turned to him with wide eyes and then he whirled towards the door, where Robin had been accidentally leaning too far past the doorway to avoid being seen. He darted back in but it was still too late.

"Robin!" Batman barked. "How did you get on the ship?!"

Robin, realizing how futile it was to hide, poked his head back out. "You left me at home! And then went to space without me!"

Batman groaned. Then he whirled around to glare at Superman. "You knew about this!" He accused, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Superman laughed awkwardly. "Hahahah... uhh... I couldn't sense him?"

Batman put a hand on his cowl and groaned again, in lieu of taking a hand and rubbing it over his face, while Green Lantern gaped.

“Spooky, you’ve had a sidekick this whole time?! Do I even know you?!”

Robin rolled his eyes. He stood up and dusted himself off before walking closer. “I’m not a sidekick! I’m Batman’s partner!”

Batman huffed, but nodded. “Robin is not my sidekick.”

“This is bizarre as f— fudge,” Green Lantern finished lamely, and then pursed his lips together, looking at Robin with narrowed eyes. Robin returned the look. “How’d you even sneak in?”

“I’m not telling you,” Robin said, sticking out his tongue.

“Robin.” Batman glared at him.

Robin rolled his eyes again and crossed his arms. “Wonder Woman helped me.”

Batman rubbed at his eyes. "She and I will be having words after this."

Robin huffed. "Don't be mad at her! I asked her to help me!"

Batman muttered something that had Superman eying him warily.

Robin strode forward and pulled on Batman's cape. "Well, I'm still here. And I say that we help them."

"Kid, you don't understand the situation. They're dangerous. And we don't know anything about them," Green Lantern said, like he was a baby.

"Yes, we do! They're kids and I can help!"

Green Lantern scoffed. "You're what— eight?"

He was actually twelve, but for that, Robin was going to cut this guy’s shins.

Robin took out a wingding, ready to slash this asshole's ankles when he felt Batman lift him up by the armpits and hold him up in the air, forcing him to be still. Of course, he could’ve just left Batman’s hold and probably cut his ankles too, but he decided to be gracious and let Batman hold him.

He did, of course, kick Batman backwards in the chest for daring to put him in air jail, but his armor was too strong so it didn’t do anything.

Robin pouted and glared at Green Lantern with laser-like eyes before he made a slashing motion across his neck with the wingding.

Green Lantern stared at him with horror before he shouted, "Spooky, he just threatened me! Is this normal?! What demon child do you have??"

Superman, who was behind Robin, said, "What? Robin wouldn’t do that! He’s an angel!"

Robin smiled evilly. "Yeah. I'm an angel."

Green Lantern blanched.

Batman huffed a laugh. "You're demon spawn, alright. Stop swinging your birdarang. I gave those to you to fight crime, not other heroes."

"It's a wingding, B!”

He was put down after another moment of having his legs swinging midair, and because he was an absolute angel, he didn't move to cut Green Lantern's kneecaps.

It was apparently visible on his face what he wanted to do because Green Lantern shuddered and moved backwards to hide behind Superman.

Robin sniffed dismissively and then turned to Batman. "Batman, we should help them! They called for me— they need me!”

Batman grew serious again and shook his head. "You don’t know that. They could be dangerous. Robin, you shouldn’t have come here.”

Robin scowled furiously. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

Batman groaned, raising his head to stare at the stars as if they would somehow give him strength.

Robin snorted coldly and ignored Superman’s worried gaze before he strode forward and peered through the window. He shooed Batman away with a hand as he tried to approach him.

“Shoo! I’ll handle this.”

“Robin—“

“You owe me,” Robin said stubbornly. He glared at Batman, who looked even more uncomfortable. “You left me behind. Alone. You owe me! I’m your partner! I shouldn’t have to stay behind just because you told me to!”

Batman grimaced and then awkwardly, he started to say, “Chum—“

Robin interrupted him again. “Stay to the side. I’m Robin, and I’m your equal. They asked for me.” Placatingly, he added, “I’m only going to talk to them.”

Green Lantern was muttering something to Batman in a hushed whisper, but Robin didn’t pay attention to him. He just stared at Batman with furrowed eyebrows and a pout. The two of them stared at each other before Batman nodded slowly. He looked like he was constipated.

“Fine.” His voice sounded particularly tight, as if he was gritting his teeth. “You can only talk to them. And we’re staying here.”

“Fine,” he huffed.

Robin turned back towards the window. Each celestial object spun in place, lighting up with flares and bright bursts of light. The one black hole was still, while the other three spun around and around, as if to encourage him. The planets that circled them continued to do so slowly, waiting.

The singing had not started again.

“Hello. I’m Robin, and I’m here to help you.”

The radio crackled, and then there was a soft, “Hello, Robin.” The call of his name was gentle, a combination of different, reverbed voices with a strange sense of affection and care.

Robin smiled cheerfully. He liked them even more for calling his mother’s nickname for him so gently. “What do you need?”

"You can help us."

“How so? If it’s possible, I’ll do what I can!”

The one voice who spoke up earlier than spoke over the other stars once more.

“Only you can help me, Robin.”

It was said with so much quiet reverence and pleasant softness, that all of them froze. The celestial objects that been moving on their own suddenly stilled again, all in unison with the one black hole.

Robin tilted his head, but a feeling of pride swelled in his chest and he asked, “What do I need to do?”

“Robin!” Batman hissed warningly, but didn’t do anything yet.

“Oh shit,” Green Lantern said, a little too loud.

That one voice continued to speak, as the others quieted, “I’ll be yours. If you can also be mine.”

Robin blinked curiously. “What does that mean?”

“Robin! No!” Batman shouted, but the stars started to whisper loudly, a noisy buzz as they spoke amongst the sound of crackling audio and water. Outside the window, the other stars and planets continued to remain still while the black hole starting to move, humming and thrumming. It flared and glowed with its bright rings pulsing around it.

“You will be my human. And I’ll grow up with you.”

Robin thought of the fact that this star was also a kid, just like him.

The humming grew louder as Batman bristled like a bothered cat.

“So what’s in it for me?” Robin ignored him and grinned, rocking on his heels.

“Robin! Do not!”

It didn’t sound too bad, and something told him that this star of his wouldn’t hurt him. It was like an instinctive understanding, one where Robin knew that this being wouldn’t betray him.

“I’ll protect you. I’ll be your star.”

Robin beamed. With Batman hurriedly striding over to him to pull him backwards, Robin nodded and said sweetly as he put his hand on the glass, “Deal!”

The black hole that hummed outside of the window lit up with a flash and a light flew towards their ship, darting towards Robin like a concentrated sun beam.

Batman gasped, horrified, “Robin!” as he lunged forward to shield him, but the light got to him first, striking him through his outstretched hand and then into his heart. Robin gasped and Batman surged forward, holding onto him tightly.

“Robin! Chum, are you alright?!”

Warmth spread through his body and settled in his bones, safe and hot, like drinking hot chocolate on a cold winter night after a good day of patrol. Robin instinctively pulled off his glove and went, “Wow!” as pale lines appeared on his skin, a four pointed star that split into two between his ring and middle finger on his left hand.

Red, black, and blue bled into his skin until a star appeared when he put his fingers together, a swirl of beautiful colors.

Batman grabbed him and pulled him away from the window.

“Robin! Are you okay? Talk to me!”

“I’m fine, B! Look! Isn’t it cool?” Robin asked excitedly.

“No,” Batman said snappishly. “It is not cool. Are you hurt? Do you feel anything wrong?”

“Nope! Just peachy!” Robin said, wiggling his fingers and watching the colored lines flex. “I’m all good!”

He paused and looked at his mentor, his guardian, his foster father, his Batman. He patted him on the shoulder as Batman knelt before him.

“I’m okay, B, promise.”

The whispering of the stars continued, something sweet and hopeful in their voices as they chattered unintelligibly. The black hole continued to buzz and then all of them were moving in unison again, spinning in peaceful circles as if nothing just happened. The singing also continued, now sounding much happier.

Green Lantern and Superman were staring out the window in horror while Robin continued to look at his new tattoo.

He liked it a lot. It was so beautiful that his heart ached.

Batman stared at him for a long moment. Then he abruptly stood up.

“We’re leaving. Right now,” Batman said. He picked up Robin who startled and then began to whine.

“Nooooo, I said I’m okay! I’m seriously okay! It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye, B!”

Despite how Robin complained, his star only got to murmur a small, “Goodbye, my Robin,” through the radio before Batman swiftly took him out of the command room and into a smaller shuttle.

Robin scowled and kicked Batman in the arm, knowing that even if he escaped, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go in order to escape his overprotective partner. Both Green Lantern and Superman followed, the latter nervously inspecting his hand with his newly formed tattoo.

Robin crossed his arms to not let Superman gawk at his hand any longer before he demanded, “So I can come back here, right?”

“No.”

“Then how am I going to speak to my star?!”

This time, it was Green Lantern and Superman who said loudly, “No!”

Robin cried out furiously, “You all suck!”

Of course, a few weeks later, Robin still snuck in. The space ship that they were on was still located there, now permanently stationed near that little galaxy as Batman overzealously studied the celestial objects that somehow touched him with a magic that no one could recognize.

Thankfully, Robin’s star was still there, just as it normally was.

As Robin crept closer to the window, he pressed his face against the glass and smiled at the sight of his star, a dark and glowing black hole that was now greedily consuming the purple and pink nebulae around it.

“Hello, my star,” he whispered, and his star flared briefly, lighting up with red and gold hues.

Robin beamed.

Yes, it was a good thing that he snuck on that ship that day.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Yes, Robin is a demon child. Why? No reason, I just think it's funny. Dan and Dick suit each other 🤣

It’s like a ship but also not a ship? Like I don’t think I’ll give the Phantoms human forms (it’s so much more fun if they’re just stars, but maybe in the far, far, far future they can be humans) but at the same time, this is like…. A qpp. In a weird way. Dan is like 14 tho, and now that Dick has agreed to be his “host” (he’s around 12 now), they’ll grow up together. Please tell me if I should make it a ship or not.

Y’know, I almost wanted to not post another celestial object AU at all bc someone was really rude to me about my last post on this idea. DO NOT reblog my posts with passive aggressive and rude remarks about what is canon and what is not. If you look at my page, you’ll see that I focus on Danny Phantom and DPxDC. NOT DCU!! And even then!! I focus only on the Batfamily!!

You are free to correct me (someone did that some time ago and I appreciate it, they were truly and genuinely trying to be helpful and I feel bad bc they deleted their comments.), but do not tell me what is right or wrong with DCU canon 😒 I don’t consume any DCU media other than some cartoon shows and a few comics.

Sorry for the little rant, it infuriated me when I saw that reply. I’m happy with any comments I get, I just despise it when people give me their unsolicited opinions

Anyways, hope you liked this update! I think I might make this a series?

[ashsimpsalot]

Mera naam... (Monkey man Kid X Reader)

A/n: uhhhh idk if I like it as much as coconut & honey but enjoy!

'you should never lie'

his mother once told him with angry eyes that he hated to see so much. When Kid was just 8 years old, he had lied to his poor mother about going to play near the river just in front of their humble home, instead, going off far away into the market because he wanted to buy the bangle she's been eyeing for a while.

He's been a proper good boy, he swore, he helped Mr Deepesh, their next door neighbour, by cleaning up his chicken coop for money. He didn't mean to worry her.

'You shouldn't lie to the people you love, even when you think it's for a good reason, a lie is a lie,' she had worriedly say while hugging her boy to her chest.

He didn't think those words would haunt him 20 years later. Kid didn't even mean to lie to you, he didn't even mean to fall for you, but he had, and his lies only bury him into a deeper hole.

"Bobby? You're ready to go?" your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts, the beer he's been nursing while you pack up the kitchen still in his hand.

"yeah," he nods, giving you a small smile. You wrapped your hands around his arm so easily as if you've been doing it for years, in reality it's only been 4 months.

4 months of lies

4 months of love

His mind wandered back to how he got here, with your hands wrapped around his arm, heading for your motorcycle. Was it that night? When he first entered his shift, he noticed you eyeing him. He didn't think much of it, you were a chef after all. You could've just been curious about the new staff.

Was it when he keeps staring at you too? Unintentionally?

But it's definitely when you start smiling at him. He's never had any other thought than revenge then this.. You... You happened.

"hey handsome, where's your mind travelling to?" you asked so sweetly he didn't even mind. Kid didn't know much about himself but he knew he hated when anyone else interrupt his thought process, not you though, never you.

Kid smiled and shook his head. "nowhere, right here," he covered it up with a quick peck on your lips and took your helmet from you, placing it onto your head and pinning it on for you, then with a stupid smile on his face he lifted the visor to boop your nose. You chuckled.

Fuck, is this love? This overwhelming feeling over the slightest thing you do?

He put on his own helmet and got on the bike, waiting till you get on too. His waist never felt so empty until you wrapped your arms around them.

4 months ago he didn't even have his own room, now he's heading to "our store" getting off the bike and ordering "the usual" and going straight to "our spot"

He doesn't even know who he is anymore.

Your kiss on his lips brought him back to reality.

"congrats, baby, on making it to VIP floor." you said with a smile on your lips.

If only you knew why he wanted to be on VIP floor so bad.

"thank you, jaan," he whispered softly, arms around your waist, swaying left to right lightly as if dancing to a song. He leaned down and kissed you again. "what's this? What's wrong?" damn you, you always somehow knew, your finger tracing his eyebrows as if to pull the frown out of his face.

He didn't know what to say. Tell you what? He's not at all who you think he is? He's plotting to kill a man? Burn the hotel? Kill one of the most influential fucking man in India?

"hey, you can tell me, Bobby, I'm here," you called that name so lovingly he had to physically fight from flinching.

In a perfect world where he isn't such a coward he'll open his mouth and tell you the truth but the truth is he's just that, a coward.

"i swear it's nothing, jaanu, just... Tired," he smiled and hugged you burying his nose in your neck, scared that he'll forget what you smell like once you find out who he is.

Your fingers snaked into his curls, playing with them like always, like it's yours, like he's yours.

"I've got you, always," you whispered into his ear, planting a soft kiss after.

He hope you meant that

Because after almost 2 months of disappearing, hiding from the police in the temple with the hijras, he's back, at your house, knocking.

You opened the door, you looked great but your eyes looks almost dead, somber.

"jaanu," that's all he could whisper, seeing you again is...

You tried to close the door but his reflexes made him able to hold the door open.

"please, please just let me explain myself"

You looked at him and scoff. "explain what? I don't even know who you are, what could you possibly say to me? What was your plan? Kill Rana and pin it on me or something? Is that it?" your voice gets shakier and shakier by each sentence, your grip on the door loosen. Kid quickly shook his head.

"no, no, never, jaanu," he had wrapped his arms around your crying figure, his body is half through the door, cupping your cheek and tenderly caressed your tears away.

"I trusted you! I loved you!" you cried out and all he could do was hold onto you while you smack your fists on his chest again and again.

"I know, i know," he whispered, he lead you inside as you limped against him.

On the couch he held you, tighter than usual, he lets you cry onto his chest, not caring about the condition of his shirt.

"you didn't call, you didn't explain, you just vanished, I thought you fucking died!" you cried out.

"I know jaan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" thats all he can offer. He kept whispering apologies and sweet nothings into your ear until you end up falling asleep on his chest. He laid you down on the couch, planted a soft kiss on your forehead and went to the kitchen. Skillfully manoeuvring through your kitchen, making a meal as he's been there countless of time. He didn't keep track of time, only glancing at the clock when he hears a croak of your voice calling his 'name'.

"I'm here jaan," Kid said walking towards the couch to see your eyes teared again.

"I thought you left again," you said with a whine in your voice, he sat next to you, arm pulling your towards him to kiss your head. "I'm here," he repeated.

"I went to make you some food, it's pretty early I don't think you've eaten," he explained, you simply nodded.

"I... I want you to explain to me who you are and what's happening." you said voice beyond tired.

"my name isn't Bobby,"

"yeah no shit," you scoffed, he only nodded, he's glad really, you're letting him hold you, touch you that's a good sign, right?

" my name... Is Kid. I worked at Queenie's hotel because I'm... Plotting revenge on Rana and Baba shakti. For killing my mother." his voice grew quieter and quieter. The obvious pain in his voice when he mentioned his mother.

"my hands," you looked at those hands, his scarred hands he meant, the ones you would plant kisses on after a night of passion, the ones you loved so much. "they got hurt when I tried to put out the fire my mother was set on... By Rana Singh," he said, face grew harder, voice turned colder.

You stared into his eyes. "Kid," you tried calling his name. He looked at you, all attention on you as if nothing else matters.

"I swear I didn't mean to rope you into this. I didn't mean to hurt you, I couldn't... I couldn't stay away from you, I tried. You consume me, my thoughts, I've never thought of anything else but revenge all my life and you walked into it and make me feel alive again. As if I could have any other life than just death after revenge. I never wanted to live but when I hold you I feel this fear of death that I've never felt before. Understand that all was real, my feelings for you was real, is real," he begged, his hands on your cheeks again.

"but you tried to kill him anyway, why?"

He shook his head. "when I saw him. When I saw that bastard I lost it. Why does he get to live his life while my mother is ashes somewhere on the forest floor?" he grunted, face angered.

You do what you always does, your finger start tracing his eyebrows, his face visibly soften. Like he could breathe again. He took your other hand and kissed it, leaning into your touch. He had been craving you, and you knew. "you're going after him again aren't you?"

"yeah" was all he could breathe out.

You sighed but you understood. The rage he has, it's all he knows.

"will you come back?"

His face lighten. "you want me to?" he asks, hopeful.

"always, always come back to me."

"but I'll be a fugitive by then," he said worried, he's not sure worried that you'll change your mind or that you'll be a fugitive too if you chose to follow him.

You shook your head. "I don't care, come back, we'll run together, I rather not live without you by my side. But Kid.."

"hm?" he asked, looking at you intently with your hands on his. "don't lie to me ever again. Ever." you warned.

He nodded his head and pulled you into him. "never, jaanu." he kissed you deeply, deeper than he ever did that day, lead your body the way he missed. He devoured you full that day, passion spilling into physical touches. He need you to understand his love. He needs you to scream his name. His real name.

[balkanradfem]

I'm reading the 'Age of Surveillance Capitalism' book by Shoshana Zuboff, and it is haunting me, making me feel uncomfortable and making me want to move offline.

We've all been aware that google, facebook, and all other digital tech companies are taking our data and selling it to advertisers, but according to the book, that is not the end goal.

The book goes into the rise of google, and how it made itself better by constantly studying the searches people were inputting, and learning how to offer better information faster. Then, they were able to develop ways to target adverts, without even selling the data, but by making their own decisions of what adds should be targeted at what audience. But they kept collecting more and more data, and basically studying human behaviour the way scientists study animals, without their knowledge or consent. Then they bought youtube, precisely because youtube had such vast amounts of human behaviour that could be stored and studied.

But they're not only using that data to target adds at us. They've been collecting data in ways that feel unexpected and startling to me. And whenever they're challenged or confronted with it, they pretend it was a mistake, or unintentional, and it's scary how far they've been able to get away with it.

For example, during their street-view data collecting, the google car had been connecting to every wifi available and taking encrypted, personal data from households. When they got found out, they've explained it was not intentional, and a fault of a lone researcher who had gone rouge, and they evaded getting sued or being held accountable for it at all. Countries have created new laws and regulations and google kept evading it and in the end they claimed 'you know if you keep trying to regulate us, we'll just do things secretly'. Which is a wild thing to say and expect to get away with!

Another thing that struck me was that governments, which at first wanted to restrict data collection, later asked tech companies to monitor and prevent content connected to terrorism, and the companies didn't like the idea of being a tool of the government, so they claimed the terrorism data is being banned for 'being against their policy'. Which makes me believe they didn't want to remove that content at all, after all, they could have done it beforehand, they didn't feel any natural incentives to do so.

The entire story is filled with researchers who don't seem to experience the human population as other human beings. They don't believe we deserve privacy, or dignity, or any say in what is being collected or done to us. Hearing their quotes and how they describe the people they're researching shows clearly they consider us all stupid, and our desires for privacy, self-harming. They insist we'd be better off if we just accepted their authority and gave them any data they wanted without complaining or being upset it's being collected without our knowledge.

Even though companies claim at all times that the data is non-identifiable, the book explains just how data is handled and how easy it is to identify anyone whose private conversations are recorded; people say their names, their addresses, places they're going, friends they're meeting, they say names of their family members, their devices record their location and their habits, it is extremely easy to identify anyone whose information has been collected. It can be identified and sold to information agencies.

I believed when it was explained to me that most of the data collection was just for add targeting, and that it would be used only for advertisement purposes, but they're not only collecting data anymore, they're deciding what data is being fed to us, and recording our reactions, learning how they can affect and manipulate our behaviour. We know all algorithms feed us controversial, enraging and highly-emotional content in order to drive engagement, but it's more than that. They've discovered how they can influence more or less people to vote. The mere idea of that makes me go cold, but they talk about it like it's just another thing they can do, so why not? Companies who have experimented and learned so much about influencing human behaviour give themselves the right to influence it as they see fit, because why wouldn't they? Since they have the power to do it, and all lawsuits and regulations can't stop them, why wouldn't they make a game out of it?

I can't imagine how many experiments they did before feeling so confident and blase about this and casually influencing the elections, again, seemingly just for the sake of an experiment.

The book compares this type of behaviour manipulation to totalitarianism and surveillance state, and it shows how the population is slowly losing parts of their freedoms without realizing it is even happening. Human behaviour has changed due to online influence, and it keeps changing rapidly, with every new popular website that is influencing human behaviour. They've learned that humans are influenced mostly by behaviour of other humans, and they can decide what kind of content or influence to send our way to get desired results.

I love how the author of the book talks about humanity. She uses the term 'human future', as something we all have the right to, as opposed to future controlled by companies and influences. She describes how regular people were affected by the data collected against their will, and how they fought for their 'right to be forgotten', when google kept displaying their past struggles, damaging their dignity. She also explains the questions people should ask about how society is led: First question is, who knows? Second question, who decides? Third question, who decides who decides? She goes in detail about how the answers are held away from us, and what it does to us. She also touches very deeply on the idea of human freedom!

I recommend this book, even though it will make you feel far less secure and carefree to be online, and using anything google, facebook, twitter or any of their owned services. They are not free, and it's also incorrect to say that we're the product of them, but we are the source of the raw materials they collect in order to gain results.

[evilminji]

Been Havin Thoughts™ >.>

About the Tragedy of SI-OC born too late to change anything...

About KNOWING. Exactly what's going to go wrong. Potentially how to fix it. Having a head crammed FULL of hundreds of authors of Fix-Its, Meta discussions, Tumblr posts. Uncertain that it truely WOULD change anything... but? Plans within plans. Possibilities. The options and ability to do SOMETHING. All there.

All useless.

Because... Because, you? You are a child.

Born too late too make a difference. The machinations of monsters are already well underway and it is far too late to stop that trolley, bearing down on you. No. No, now?

Now you get to make a CHOICE.

The needs of the many? The needs of the few? Yourself? Who do you try and save? Who CAN you save? From this sinking ship. This slow, painful, tragedy? No one's going to listen to a child. Not really. Not TRUELY. You are merely... a Witness.

There are SO MANY Scenarios!!!

But! For this? The one that currently haunts me?

Force Nexus~☆ under the Temple~☆! What COULD it do? I wonder?

Imagine it. You are a Youngling. A Temple Child. You KNOW what is coming. Order 66. The suffering. The Death. An empire built on the enslavement of good, loyal men. The genocide of Jedi. Every night you struggle to sleep. Toss and turn. Look at the tiny sleeping faces of children in you Creche... and you KNOW.

You KNOW.

Just as you KNOW... that no one will listen to you. You did try. Carefully. And you are glad you did. Your trust was betrayed. They did not listen. The end barrels closer and closer. The Force WEEPS in your mind, like a wound hidden in smoke. You... you have to decide.

Save yourself? Run? You could. You might survive.

Take the infants? Bundle them away in the night? You'd have to time it just right. Or they'd chase you to the ends of the galaxy.

Or... or do you do... THAT?

The thing that scares you. The one your not sure your brave enough to do. The one that... that would be JEDI of you? You are scared. Just a child. Thought... thought you would have longer...

In your heart... already know. Exactly what you're going to do.

So you sneak out. It's far too easy. With so many minders, away at War. Hang around the Senate. Well away from the Sith. You... you just need the inevitable to happen. Hate yourself, for preying on the Vode. Sure enough? Some asshole orders a good man to be "decommissioned" over imagined offense.

He is escorted away by his brothers.

You follow.

Let them grieve. Before quietly interjecting. You need his help. To save his brothers. Since he is to die either way... would he mind dying with you? You hate asking. What choice does he HAVE now, really? He is condemned. You feel like a monster.

When he asks if you are CERTAIN it will help his brothers, you think of the records you have read. Yes. Yes it will.

He does not look at you, like you are a monster. There is a grieving understanding between instead. You leave at once. Back to the barracks. Things left behind he will not be coming back for. Everytime you leave the temple, you are much the same.

Now you decend.

Down and down. Level by level. Past where the light no longer reaches, past breathable air. To the old temple. Long forgotten. Desecrated by the Sith. You are a youngling. You can not purify this place. But oh... oh you can try. Any spark of Light in this darkness. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, made of stars.

Down and towards the Nexus.

It rattles your bones. Aches in your teeth. Colors beyond color, time outside of time. Every step becomes a struggle. Until it is too much. You must be carried. Your trooper does not mind. Helps you stay present, attached to your skin. Luminous as you are.

You... You get there.

It Is BEAUTIFUL.

The Force is HERE. And Here flows the Force. Everything One. Your lines, simple matter, begin to break. How... how could you possibly care? It is... no. The hand in your's reminds you. Your reason for all of this. The Vode. Their fate. You look to the man who has become your friend. Would weep for him, if you could. But... but it is too late now.

For both of you.

You are One with the Force. And the Force is One with you.

In the starlight, the fracturing, of what's left of your brain... you PULL. The chip. The advanced aging. The shroud the Sith has pulled around himself. All... all things are possible, in the Force. ALL THINGS. Perhaps not all... with flesh and bone... but? With the Force? The... The Vode will be free.

What is distance, mere matter, to The Force?

We are everywhere and nowhere. Everything and nothing. Our power is infinte and killing us. And... and that is okay. It does not hurt. The Light... the Light is BEAUTIFUL. We did this on our own two feet.

We are one with the Force.

And that is okay.

[thatfreshi]

"He Can't Have You" (Astarion x Reader)

Seems as though Auntie Ethel doesn't go down without a fight, and that fight involves bringing out the worst in people's minds. (Also we get to see where the nickname Aster came from)

tw - mentions of abuse, panic attack

The Sunny Wetlands, later revealed to be a putrid swamp, have proven particularly difficult for Astarion. The last thing any of you expected was to find a Gur hunting him, especially this far from the city. It made your heart skip a beat, hearing the monster hunter utter his name, and you could feel the tension in the vampire. Thankfully, you did away with him quickly. By now, he's told you plenty about his past, at least as much as he could bear to tell. That haunting feeling though, knowing that Cazador was hunting him, it was paralyzing. As you searched for Mayrina, you and Astarion fell behind the rest of the group.

"Are you alright my love? I could tell them we should just set up camp for the night, rest up for dealing with the hag."

"Nonsense. What would I look like, asking everyone to stop for me? The Gur has been dealt with, let's just leave it at that darling."

"I cannot imagine dealing with the hag will be easy though."

"I'll simply run my blade through her like I do everything else. I'll be fine."

It hasn't been long enough with him to truly know if he's lying, but you certainly have a hunch. On the way back to the hag's house, Gale casts detect magic.

"She's definitely in here. We should be prepared."

Sure, she looked like a sad old woman, but those adventurers told you the truth, how she took their sister. When Karlach leads the charge, opening the door, she tries to look shocked.

"Oh dear! It's quite rude to storm into someone's house like that. Where are your manners?"

Without responding, Karlach throws her axe into the hag's shoulder, breaking the illusion, showing the monster for who she is. Covered in grime, like a witch born straight from the mud.

"It looks like I'll just have to teach you all how to be polite!"

Karlach tries to go for a second hit, but the hag teleports. Gale soon tracks her down, casting a ray of frost. Astarion follows her up the stairs while she tries to counterspell Gale. You and Lae'zel try to attack from a distance, missing because of just how quick she can move from place to place. Wyll has focused on assisting Gale, and Shadowheart is keeping track of all your party members, making sure to be there as soon as one of you takes a hit. In the meantime, she casts guidance on Astarion, who is fighting much more intensely than usual. Perhaps killing the Gur wasn't enough, and the anger was still boiling inside.

"Alright little mosquito, you want to be a thorn in my side? Poor decision."

The hag disappears from sight, and Astarion stops in his tracks. At first you think nothing of it. It almost looks like he's searching the room for where your enemy landed. For him though, the hag has cast a strong illusion, preying on his worst fear: being back in Cazador's grasp. The teahouse has transformed into the kennels, cold stone on bare feet, blood spattered across the walls.

Well, well, well. Seems as though the boy never learns! Perhaps, this time, will set you straight.

He hears the voice of Godey taunting him, threatening to pull him apart again.

"No! No, I left- I left, I was free!"

It's at this moment you realize he's not here, not in the mental sense.

"Focus on the hag, I'll try to snap him out of it."

You order the rest of the group, and they nod without a word, searching the teahouse for where she's gone now. You run up the stairs, finding a trembling pale man who has dropped his daggers.

Deep down, you like bein' leashed, don't ya?

The words bounce around in his head, a vision of Cazador appearing. You try to shake him, to mentally connect him back to his body, but it only plays into the illusion more, your actions becoming Cazador's.

"Astarion! Astarion it's just a spell, it's not real. It's not real my love, please."

Soon enough, your group finds the hag again, disrupting her concentration, releasing her grip on the elf. His breathing is terrifyingly fast, and he takes a moment to come out of the vision, grabbing a dagger from the floor and very quickly brandishing it towards you.

"DON'T."

You're trying desperately not to cry, because you know he doesn't need your shared sadness right now.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me, Tav."

You lightly touch the hand holding the dagger, and he loosens his grip. Your hands move to take the blade from his grasp, setting his weapons to the side.

"I... I was there. I was back there."

"I know. Seems as though Ethel knows more than she should."

Astarion is still trying to root himself back in reality, you blood still racing in his dead veins.

"I can't go back Tav. Please, I can't go back."

"I know. I won't let you end up back there, ever."

He's still weary of physical touch, so you simply rub across his knuckles, trying to ground him in the moment. Your deepest urge is to wrap yourself around him and never let go, keep him in a protective case where no one can ever hurt him again, but that's not real. Being entirely safe isn't real. But damn, do you wish it was, for his sake.

As you're sitting there with him, the group makes their way back.

"We lost her. Have a feeling she went deeper into a cave somewhere."

You eye Karlach, and the two of you come to a silent understanding as you hold onto Astarion's shakey hands.

"We'll go set up camp where we entered the swamp. Take your time."

And with that, the tiefling takes the rest of your companions out of the teahouse, leaving the two of you alone.

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, cocking your head slightly.

"Why what?"

"Why would you say you won't let me end up there again? Cazador isn't some being you can simply keep me from, he's... different."

"I don't care."

"What do you mean you don't care?"

"I just, don't care. I don't care how powerful he is or whatever abilities he has, he can't have you. He just can't."

You finally do tear up now, not sure how else to explain it to the vampire.

"He most definitely cou-"

"No."

You try to blink the tears away, feeling the little callouses on his palm from over the decades.

"I want you to know what it's like to belong to someone in a pure way, not for personal gain, but just because they need you. And now that I have you... I just need you. I need you Astarion, so he can't have you. I'd die before he could take you from me."

He's silent for a moment. All forms of ownership he's known have been terrifying. Whatever could you mean by belonging to someone in a pure way? How can you belong to someone innocently? Your tadpole senses his concern, connecting without much effort at all.

"I don't need anything from you. I don't need you to do anything for me, I just need you Aster."

He smiles a little.

"Aster?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I had just been thinking about it. If you don't like it-"

"No I- I love it. Aster. Like the flower?"

"Yeah."

Somehow, the teahouse is peaceful in this moment. You feel young all over again, like you've never been in love before, like Astarion is the only being you've ever known. He interrupts your thoughts.

"Thank you, for saying all that. Maybe I wouldn't mind belonging to someone without expectations. It sounds, nice."

His voice cracks on the last word.

"Well, Aster, then you can belong to me as long as you'd like."

You swipe a piece of hair behind his ear, looking for a reason to get close to his face. As if the fates knew it to be true, you lock lips, despite the horrific smell outside and the creaking wood of the floorboards, you're somewhere else. Some place where the asters bloom in peace.

[deceitfuldevout]

Mercy (Part 2)

Dark!Tommy Shelby x Enemy!Reader

Word Count: +3,576

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Kidnapping, Hostage situation, Manhandling, Mind break, Threats of violence, Murder, Mentions of past character death, Gore, Physical violence, Forced intrusion, Humiliation.

Author's note(s): Going to try and write more. Been a busy bee recently.

Tommy knew your parents would be looking for you. He needed to bring you somewhere no one would suspect. Not even his family. They'd given him space to mourn for Ruby. As they all did. Tommy had kept them oblivious to the underground war. This was between him and your clan. He owns a plot of land near the countryside. It's half an hour away from the city, far enough so that no one would follow.

He used to bring the children out here during the summer. What was once a special place in his heart, became a haunting reminder of what life could've been. He would've kept you in town had it not been for the constant eyes and ears. For now, it was best that you'd stay here until he's sorted everything out. It was decided, this would be your new home until further notice. But he doesn't want to make this comfortable in any way. You weren't a hostage--no, his property.

He can do whatever the fuck he pleases, because this version of Tommy, had no limitations. He clicks the trunk open, reaches in to grab your quivering form. He drags you out of the car, hauling your weak body over his shoulder. He effortlessly carries you to the hideout. It's a small shed, located right in the backyard of his summer home. Tommy kicks the door open. Almost ripping it from the hinges. As soon as you were inside he lets you fall with a 'thud'. Your head is throbbing. You couldn't see anything in the darkness. Only the silhouette of the man who had taken you.

As soon as you spot the gangster, the first thing you do is crawl back, holding both hands in front, and plead, "Please...please let me go, I-I promise I won't tell...j-just--please," your throat was sore from the hours of screaming, crying, begging for mercy. Your pleas were deaf to Tommy's ears. He stands there, stating back at your quivering form. There wasn't an ounce left in him that felt bad. To him, you were only collateral. An eye for an eye.

His presence is enough to intimidate anyone. You don't bother looking at him in the eyes, afraid of being trapped under his gaze. There are two rules you were taught about gangsters: The first rule was to never go near one, the second was to never look one in the eyes. Not unless you were looking for a fight.

He steps forward, enjoying the sight of you cowering in fear. His eyes are as cold as ice You sob, "P-please god..."

Tommy raises his brows, “God?” he scoffs, “You think it was him that led you here?” he shook his head, "No, it was me, I ordered them to take you, because I can," a long pause follows, "You were picked up from church, yeah? So tell me, what did you pray for?"

"T-to...to find a good man," your teeth chatter. His grin doesn't reach his eyes, "And that led you to me," he chuckles. Your parents kept you sheltered from the big-bad gangsters of the city. But little did you know you were raised by one. The irony of it all. Poor thing, you never imagined being taken, especially not by someone like himself.

He crouches down, "Tell me...what will you pray for now, hm? For someone to save you?" he taunts. His hand hovers to your collar, wrapping itself around your neck. He gives it a slight squeeze, "Tell me, what will you do if I were to bend you over right now?"

Tommy wants to break you. He wants to break your mind, your body, your soul. He wants to break the little faith you have left, and from that he'll build you to his liking. You would be his obedient pet. You answer, "Nothing..." blinking back tears. His thumb swipes a tear, "Good, you're a fast learner," he pats your head, brushing a few strands from your face.

He wants to make it clear, "I own your body now, I own you," he stands up, "From now on this will be your new home, you can forget about your old life," he then retrieves his watch, inspecting the time. He shuts it, shoving it into his coat pocket before leaving. Tommy ignores your cries, "Please...don't leave me here! Mr. Shelby! Please!"

Even in your condition, you still manage to limp. You try to reach for the door. Before you could make it, Tommy slams it shut. He locks it from the other side. Both your fists bang at the door, "I've done nothing wrong! Please! Don't leave me here!" falling against it as a deep sob escapes your throat. Tommy knows it was useless to yell. There would be no one from miles around.

Tommy and his men left for the city. When he spots a river on the roadside. He decides that now would be the best time to confront them. See, nothing with Tommy Shelby was a mere coincidence. He had chosen these men specifically, after finding out they'd stolen from his company. So, he makes it work in his favor. Two birds with one stone.

Tommy had been waiting for the right moment to finish off the traitors. First he orders them take the girl, then he'll take out those thieving bastards. Any witness statements would be useless with Tommy left as the only living suspect. All for a crime that may or may not have occurred. According to his story, Tommy had been in the office at the time of your disappearance. No one else could object to that. He knows that his family would be there to defend him.

He orders his men to park on the side of the road for a quick smoke break. He made sure to count how many of them had exited the vehicle. He doesn't light up his cigarette until he's sure all them were present. Only then does he lights up his cigarette. He distracts them with a tale. All of the men now rest on the side of the road. One of the men jokes about how they should share Tommy's new pet.

He doesn't take too kindly to that idea. It was at that moment when he returns to the car. When the men least expect it, he fires a round of stray bullets. He stares coldly as their lifeless bodies drop to the floor. Tommy dumps them into the river, returning to the city alone.

He made sure to avoid any suspicion by returning to his office. Acting as if nothing had happened. Word will spread, and the last thing he needs is his family breathing down his neck. He rummages through the office, finding any work to complete. As soon as he sits down, he can't help but smile. He thinks about how easy it was to bend you into submission. Had your parents really not prepare you for this?

Tommy remembers your first ever encounter. It was in your father's office just a few months ago. You unknowingly barged into the room with a tray in hand. Completely oblivious to what was happening. You were only focused on serving the men tea. A word he would use to describe you is obedient, submissive. Something he wouldn't mind having a taste of.

As soon as your father spots you, he halts everything. He cuts the meeting short to drag you out. No daughter of his would be caught in the same room as a gangster. He'll be damned if he lets a dirty peaky near her. Poor thing, you assumed it was your fault. Barging in while the men were at work, completely oblivious to the true nature of their meetup. He swore you were taunting him with that innocent look.

You still thought he, Tommy Shelby, was worth saving. You begged him not to do it, as if he were some fucking saint. That made it all the more worthwhile as he filled your cunt to the brim. He fucked you full of his filthy gangster seed. Until there was a small puddle of cum and crimson dripping from both holes. He had left a trail of bruises that littered your unblemished skin. He bit, teased, and bruised wherever he could reach. Who was there to stop him?

Tommy palms the growing tent in his pants. He relishes in the remembrance. He could still feel your nails digging into his skin. On his wrist, all over his chest and back. How you tried to fend him off. But in the end it was useless. He's a former veteran and you're just a spoiled heiress. A hand grazes on the small cut on his cheek you'd given him earlier, he'll make sure you pay for that dearly.

He's going to enjoy feeling of your tight cunt again. How you were squeezing his girth, almost as if it were on purpose. Your choked sobs for him to stop, as he darted his tongue out to taste those fresh tears. When your whimpers would change depending on how fast and hard he'd thrust his hips. How his nails dug into the flesh of those soft, supple hips, leaving small crescent cuts. And oh, how he loved to hear you scream.

Your whimpers were music to his ears. Like a melody he wanted to play over and over again. Fuck…he'll have to plan another trip to the countryside, and soon. You gave him a sense of power, immunity. Something that Tommy hadn't felt in long time. Not since losing his Ruby. He became a shell of the man he once was. Never in his life had he felt so weak, so hopeless. Lost.

But now? Your parents won't even think about touching him. This would be a secret kept between him and the other clan. His family doesn't have to know. If your parents decide to try anything, he'll make sure to send them more than just a napkin.

You couldn't sleep that night. Despite each hour feeling longer than the next. How could you after what happened? You felt as though your sanity were slipping away. Most of the night would be spent either attempting to break the door open or crying to yourself. Both of your fists went numb from the hours spent slamming them against wood.  

There were visible blisters that littered your hands. Small droplets of crimson from the open wounds. Faint scratch marks decorate the door. It didn't help being the dead of winter, only adding more pain to your bruising. You wince from the cold, dry air seeping into the open wounds. Still, it wasn't comparable to what he had done. 

A deep feeling of dread starts to sink in. Suddenly realizing the weight of what had happened. You were kidnapped, assaulted, paraded by one of the worst criminals in all Birmingham. The worst part was it only took him a few hours to break you. That man, that...gangster, had taken your virginity. How on earth were you going to tell your parents? Did anyone else know? If so, it would ruin any chance of ever finding a good husband. This wasn't just any gangster, he's the worst of them all. A Peaky Blinder.  

You began to tear up. Something like this would break their hearts. There were many stories passed around of young women being victims of bridal kidnapping. They would escape their abductors and return home. Only to be sent back by their own family. These poor women would have no other choice but to marry their abductors. Although both of your parents were traditional, surely, they wouldn't do the same thing...would they? A wave of dread starts to flood your nerves. Deep down, you were too afraid to find out.  

You try switching positions until you find one that was comfortable enough to lay in. Now splayed against the cold hard ground. It hurts too much to sit up. Your throat is sore from the hours of abuse. You were much too tired to yell, the dreaded thought of his return consumed all senses. You could only sit in silence, trying your best not to think of anything to stop crying. A part of you was certain that there were no tears left in you to spill. 

Suddenly, the door opens. You scurry as far away from the entrance as possible. As soon as he enters there's a powerful aura in the air. He reeked of danger. You refuse to look at him, not out of defiance but out of fear. For the first time in your life, you were genuinely terrified. Your eyes are focused on the floor as your body crumples into submission. Each step he takes his powerful, echoing throughout the shed. His feet were settled on the spot where you were staring. There was something in his hand. You couldn’t tell what it was until he placed it on the ground.  

It was a plate of sludge-like food. Something that was half thought of, with a cup of water on the side. Your mouth starts to water at the sight. It had been almost two days since you’ve eaten anything. Tommy wanted to make sure you were still alive. Otherwise, the deal would be off with your parents. You could only focus on the plate on the floor, tuning everything else out. All attention went to the dish. He says something but you don't quite catch what it was.  

Suddenly a hand grips your hair, pulling it into a tight hold. You whine from the pain, both hands shooting up to where his wrist was. As much as you tried to pry his fingers off, it was futile trying to remove the iron hold. He's a retired soldier, a decorated war veteran. You were only an heiress, sheltered from all worldly dangers. You look up at him with pleading eyes, now sheer with fresh tears, "P-please..." begging for him to stop. His grip tightens, "What did I say about speaking?" your pained expression doesn't falter him, not one bit.  

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, so let me refresh your memory,” he tugs until you're forced to look him in the eyes. He growls, “I own you, mind, body, soul, every part,” he reaches for your neck, giving it a squeeze. He dips his fingers in your mouth, gripping the inside to pry it open, "This is mine to use," he pulls you up by the arm with little effort, his other hand finds its way in between both legs. When your hands try to shoo it away the grip around your neck tightens. He reaches in between your legs, rubbing up and down the clothed slit, "This cunt...mine,"  

You shook your head vigorously, tearing up at his remark. He clicks his tongue, "Sh...sh... that's not gonna help you," both his hand hold the sides of your head. It felt like you were suffocating in his embrace. He looks you in the eyes, “The life you once had is gone now,” which only twists the knife deeper, “I own you, every part of you,” his hands glide from your neck down to your bare shoulders.  

Tommy gives them a light shove, just enough to send you to your knees. His hands retreat to his belt, unfastening the buckle before letting his pants slide down. He wants to start training as soon as possible, “I’m going to break you...bend you in my own image,” Tommy doesn’t waste any time releasing his manhood from its bindings.

He tugs it a few times, enjoying the petrified look on your face. To say he enjoyed it was an understatement. Tommy took joy in watching you break. He couldn’t help but smirk as soon as the tears began to spill. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you to face his leaking member.  

He taps the tip of his cock against your cheek, enjoying the way you try to retreat. He pulls back his coat, revealing a gun resting in its holster. A warning of what would happen should you fight him. You shut your eyes, imagining being anywhere else but here. You force your lips to part. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He starts bucking his hips back and forth. He hisses, trying to find the right angle, "M'gonna cum...gonna shoot a fat load down your throat...want you to feel it in your fucking stomach,’  

Tommy fastens his pace, he’s close. So, fucking close. Hearing your muffled cries was music to his ears. Then it came, Tommy presses his cock deep inside, holding your head in place as he quickens his thrusts. Sweat collects on his forehead despite the cold weather. When he retrieves his cock a small trickle of cum and spit escapes. You cough out his spunk still trapped in your throat. A small puddle forms on the ground, right between his feet. He had been enjoying this a bit too much, "You'll have to practice on that mouth of yours," he teases.  

But that wasn’t the end of it, no. Shortly after Tommy decided that another round was due. Then another, and another. He ignored every muffled cry that escapes your lips. He wanted to paint you with it. No, he wants to drown you in his seed until you're thanking him.

Five, five rounds of Tommy fucking your mouth. Each round ending in him cumming on a new place. He had emptied load after load, making sure to paint you with it. There was spunk all over your hair and face. It was repulsing, being covered in a stranger's finish. After a while he lets you rest. When you notice him retrieving his discarded coat, you sigh with relief. It was finally over. Your emotions get the best of you, crying not from the abuse, but that it was finally over.

Then Tommy does the unimaginable. He strides over to your plate. Jerking off his cock before finishing the sixth round on the food. He tucks himself in now satisfied with the work done, "Eat up," he says before leaving you alone in the cold darkness. You of all people should know by now, Tommy's cruelness had no limits.

While you were gone, your home had changed for the worse. During the past few days, what was once a warm-felt home became a mourning ground. Your mother had spent most of her free time was at the window seat, praying for your return. What was once a home filled with laughter and joy became a cold reminder that you were gone. Taken from her safe arms. A part of her regrets ever leaving your side. If only she weren't so busy entertaining others. Then maybe her sweet girl would still be here.

She sniffles, pressing a hand against the cold glass. She blames herself for not looking after you, her pride and joy. Ever since you were taken, she had barely slept or eaten. It began to worry the maids, who then informed your father. She could still her you calling for her. It had been carved into her mind, and killed her not being able to do a thing about it. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? More tears spill, flowing down her cheeks.

Your father couldn't stand the sight of his dear wife's tears. He could barely sleep knowing that he was the reason behind it. All because of his lineage. He had tried his best at hiding a double life. He never wanted to drag his girls into this. Your father tried his best to hide it, he really did. Your mother was the preacher's daughter, who unknowingly married a gangster. Naïve and innocent to the evils of this world until she met him.

He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "Don't worry my diamond," wiping away the fresh tears, "I promise you, I'll bring our girl back..." he leaves her for his 'office', where the men await for his orders. Unlike his wife, he isn't as forgiving. He had gouged out an eye from the man in charge of keeping an eye on you. But after receiving Tommy's message, he made sure to plant a bullet right in between the man's empty sockets.

If it's a war the Shelby brother wants, it's a war he'll have.

After washing the blood from his hands and face, he makes his way to the bedroom. His wife is still perched on the seat of the window frame, staring longingly outside. He accompanies her, now sat besides her. He's guilt ridden. She whispers something he doesn't quite catch, until another mumble escapes her lips, "My fault..." 

how? How on earth could someone as precious as his diamond do any wrong?

"I c-can't forgive myself for--"

"No, no my love, this isn't your fault..." He pulls her into his arms, rubbing small circles into her back. He wipes the tears from her cheeks, holding her closely. He'll tear this city apart if it meant finding you. This is a city plagued and ruled by gangsters. You of all people didn't deserve it and he has only himself to blame. Whatever that sick bastard had done he promise to do worse. Until he's begging to be put out of his misery.

But what the mobster doesn't know, is that Tommy Shelby yearns for sweet death.

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 3 Vampire

A corpse supposed, in European folklore, to leave its grave at night to drink the blood of the living by biting their necks with long pointed canine teeth.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @cherrysuzaku

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

Never go out at night. Especially near the old cemetery. 

You never understood why. Aa a child growing up you just assumed because the place was scary and full of ghosts so you were happily in agreement of staying far, far away from the old cemetery down the road. You'd  never go there, and stayed very far away which pleased your family. It wasn't until your sixteenth birthday that your grandfather pulled you aside one day under the guise of coming to help him carry vegetables to sell at the nearby town square however as soon as you two were alone, he pulled you both behind the barn and had  a very scary serious face.

"Y/n, listen to me. You're sixteen years old now. In two more years you're going to be all grown up and be able to make your own decisions and that's why I have to warn you before it's too late."

You blinked at him in shock. "Grandpa, what are you talking about about?" 

"I'm talking about vampires!" His tone was so blunt it made you blink.

"Vampires?" 

"Do you know why the old cemetery was abandoned and the new one was built right behind the village? Or why no one goes near the old one? Or why no one stays out at night?" You shook your head. You just assumed because it was creepy and haunted. He scoffed. "Of course not! No one's ever bothered to tell you the truth! Folks around here like to pretend nothing bad happens around here!"

"But...Vampires?" 

He nodded. That sounds.. unbelievable. There hasn't been any cases of people going missing or being found dead with their bodies drained of blood or with bite marks on their necks. And there hasn't even been any livestock killings other than the time your uncle caught a fox in his henhouse last year..But that was just a fox. 

"Let me tell you the entire truth. Back even before even my own parents were born, there was a clan that lived in the abandoned estate right next to that cemetery, it's so long no one even remembers their name, but long ago tragedy struck them. The entire clan turned on one another over a family dispute which left only two standing. A pair of brothers one of which left his clan after the incident while the other took over the entirety of the estate."

"That's very sad, but what does that have to do with anything with Vampires?"

"The brother who left died." His tone suddenly became very grim. "His body was found one day alongside the road as dead as roadkill. Instead of burning the cursed corpse, he was brought home to his brother so he may be buried in the family cemetery. However that mistake would prove to be fatal. The very next day after the funeral, the remaining brother was found dead in his bedroom! His entire body was drained of blood and a look of pure horror was etched onto his face."

Your eyes widened in shock at the words that left his mouth.

"It didn't stop there. A distant member of the clan's family went missing the next week, and then a week after that two other girls from the surrounding area also went missing. Not even their bodies were ever found."

"That's all very sad..but how do you know that it was vampires. Couldn't the girls have just ran away from home? Or the brother have a heart attack and died?" 

"Because when the local priest investigated the cemetery alongside the towns men, he ordered all the clan members graves to be dug up and the bodies examined." His gaze turned grave as a shudder physically shook his body as you gulped. "One by one each and EVERY member was dug up from the ground for the priest to examine and each one was the same with some form of destruction until they got to the final one. The brother who left the estate. "

Your skin got goosebumps and a shiver ran down your own spine at the way he was looking at you in fear. This story..Even if it was fake, sure was scary.

"When they pulled his cursed coffin from the ground and tore it open, his body was in perfect cold condition. As if he has just died within the last hour." His fearful expression became more scared. "But he wasn't the only one in that grave. Within the soft earth they found the three girls who had gone missing. Their bodies in as perfect condition as their devilish husband now. He had claimed them as his brides of the undead!" 

"W-Why didn't they just burn the bodies then?"

"Because they had already angered the spirits and committed a sacred crime by digging up all the bodies! No one wanted to risk angering the spirits on top of having a vampire! All the bodies were reburied with the exception of those cursed with vampirism. They were taken to be locked away in a mausoleum, and a steak was driven into the man's heart to return him to the dead! That place was abandoned since."

"If the vampire was killed, then why is there still worry?"

"Because someone removed his stake! A vampire is only dead as long as the stake remains in his heart! However it was discovered someone had broken into the crypt and removed it. The bodies were gone and since then it's always been the same. Don't go out at night. Stay away from the old cemetery. You're a young woman so you're going to be the most vulnerable. Heed my words, Child. Do not be fooled by them."

Since then you've been scared of going outside at night by yourself which your grandpa approved of until his eventually death a year later..but with you becoming older and older, you noticed that everything really wasn't as scary as your grandfather made it out to be. Your parents never before seemed to mind you going outside at night so long as you stayed away from the old cemetery they seemed perfectly happy. 

Plus LITERALLY NOTHING EVER HAPPENED!!

Nothing but the usual animals in the night. You never saw anything dangerous other than maybe a wild animal. Even IF there was a vampire running around, he must've been long gone by now or wasn't interested in the humans here. In fact he might not even exist at all! You came to the conclusion that he DEFINITELY didn't exist when you were out stargazing fell asleep and woke up perfectly okay on your balcony. If there was a vampire then he would've taken advantage of a woman fast asleep in the night. 

So you began to wonder what else might've been made up? Fairies? Ghosts? Imps? You've never seen anything like that even when you visited the cemetery and your grandparents' graves. No ghost, spirits, or spooks. So was the old cemetery they told you about really that bad either? Your curiosity only continued to grow and grow as you turned twenty and it was one day that you decided to go and check it out for yourself. 

Walking down the old path long since overgrown and completely covered in grass and flowers. You barely were able to find it from how much it blended into nature. You didn't know how far exactly you walked or how much time had passed by but eventually you came across something you were sort of expecting. The starts of a rock wall..the sight of it in the sunlight made you slow down to a stop. Staring wide eyed at the monument like it was something forbidden.

You should probably turn back now...but there's a reason why you came here during the day instead of night. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly approached. 

Old rocks crumbling away slowly from the elements and overgrown by vines. The wall was old and looked one step from crumbling away entirely as you approached it before slowly grabbing on some semi looking non rumbling parts and started pulling yourself up enough to look over the wall. The state of the inside was like a something out of a ghost story alright. Giant grass and wild flowers growing up and taking over the stone walkways that cracked badly with neglect, a few trees had grown in random places and a few stones looked like they were entangled in their roots.

Your footfalls were the only things that sounded around the place as you slowly walked around looking at everything. There was so many stones laid about everywhere. Misshapen by the elements over time and overgrown like everything else around the place. There was symbols that might've been named long ago but they were too worn away to really make out what they were when you curiously peered at a few. Continuing to walk around until you stumbled upon something. Something big.

A giant structure like building that was as big as a shed made of stone. 

It stuck out like a sore thumb in the middle of everything. A giant tree growing out of a giant crumbling crack in the top and side coating the entire structure in shade. Where a door might've been was now covered in vines like a nature prison cell. Was that the famous mausoleum from the story? Your form walked up and pushed the nearly roots apart enough to poke your head in. Only to cough and sneeze at the amount of dust accumulated inside. But there was nothing inside. Not even a body.

So that proved there was nothing here. Whelp. That debunks everything everyone else said. Wrestling with the roots until you were able to pull your head out  and relax back. Now that your curious itch was satisfied, you could leave and never look back. This place was creepy even in the daytime. You turned to leave, grass crunching under your feet as you took a few steps- 

"Who are you?" You immediately jumped with a gasp looking around wildly for whoever talked. "Up here."

You looked up and paused. Up on top of the mausoleum was a man. A very BEAUTIFUL man. Soft looking white flowed down his shoulders and broad muscles tensed up from where he kneeled on top of the ancient structure looking at you. His clothes fit him in such a way that reminded you of old ninja uniforms seen in some history books from school, but what struck you the most was the magenta eyes that seemed to be staring right through you. 

"Who are you?," he repeated making you jump.

"Oh! I uh-..I just wanted to look around and..stuff!"

"Uh huh." His eyes narrowed more looking you up and down before stopping on your side eyed face again. Seeming to calculate something in his mind.. before smiling. "Well you know what they say." He quickly switched from a kneeling position to a sitting one with his legs hanging over the side of the structure and scooted further into the shade, head in one hand. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Your brow rose at him. "And who are you?"

"Uzui. Tengen Uzui. You happen to be trespassing on my territory lady, so I can ask you the same thing."

"Territory?" You looked around again at the creepy damaged old graves. Who'd want this as their property "No offense but have you seen where you are?"

"Every day and night but Im curious now. Why are YOU?"

"Huh? Oh. I'm Y/n. Look. I didn't mean to bother you-" You held up your hands and took a step back. "-and I'm sorry but I should really get back before someone worries about me."

"Why would they worry about you? It's not like these dead people can hurt you."

"Well you're not going to believe me if I told you."

"Try me. You'd be surprised by what I've seen in my lifetime."

"Well they say this place is crawling with vampires."

Instead of laughing at you or looking at you like you were crazy, he hummed again and smiled wider. "Vampires. You don't say."

"Yep. That's why I was here. I came to see if anything was here but there's nothing. Just a fairytale like everything else I've been told."

"Not true. There's me and I happen to be rather flamboyant if I do say so myself!~" he purred gesturing to his muscles and making you snicker.

"Yeah. Right. Well I'd better be going. It was nice to meet you. Sorry for trespassing."

"Hey. Wait a minute." A loud thud sound went off as he pushed himself off and landed on his feet, and you gawked at how much taller he was than you were. Smiling still. "It's been a long time since anyone else visited me and it's pretty lonely up here." His hand gestured to the far left. "My wives and I have an estate just a little away from here. Why don't you come back to visit tomorrow?"

You blinked again. "An estate? I thought everything up here was abandoned.years ago."

"Right. I bet they say that it's haunted too."

"Is it?"

"No. But sometimes my best buddy comes by." He smiled at you in an almost joking way. "He's a Kitsune spirit. Even has a flashy shrine in the town over."

You couldn't help but giggle. "Ok. Sure. It'd be nice to visit someone knew. I'll come by next week since I'm not busy that day."

"GREAT! I'll have my wives fix you a feast! It's been years but my Suma can make a delicious shishkabob outta venison and veggies! I used to eat it all the time."

You didn't know what you've done that day. Waving goodbye as you climbed back over the wall. You didn't see him yawn before climbing back up the tree to rest again making sure to avoid the sunlight peeking in through the leaves. 

You did end up coming back next week without telling anyone. Past the cemetery and even further past it. You were surprised to find a small mansion in the middle of the woods right smack dab in a clearing. You guessed that someone must've moved in and fixed up the place. You ended up knocking on the door which slid open and you were met with pink eyes blinking in surprise. 

"Oh my...He wasn't kidding when he said you were coming" she sounded surprised but opened the door widely beckoning you inside. "Please come in! We've been expecting you."

"Thanks! Are you Suma?"

"No. I'm Hinatsuru but it's so good to see someone new! We don't have much visitors."

Hinatsuru. And the other two wives Makio and Suma. They were all so different from each other and Mr. Uzui was there too happily smiling and talking to you. With the food they promised you. It was so good! But they didn't eat anything. 

"We ate before you came to visit us, so don't worry about it."

That didn't bother you. Nor did it bother you when Tengen offered to walk you home  once it got too dark. Your parents weren't worried since they didn't worry about you going out (they had no idea that you went near the graveyard) and were surprised seeing the stunningly beautiful man standing in the doorway.

"Charmed I'm sure!" He posed making your mother even blush. "Tengen Uzui.~ I know we just met but I think I want to start courting your daughter. With your permission of course ~"

That's how the entire thing began. Almost as if your parents were hypnotized by him. They agreed much to your shock and you were suddenly counted by not only the beautiful man but his three beautiful wives. It certainly does seem like something out of a fairytale having so many beautiful people fond over you. 

Especially when he kissed you for the first time. A blush coating his face as you held his cheeks. Surprisingly cold lips kissed yours. And then your cheeks. And then chin. And then stopping at your neck. Eyes going slit feeling the rush of pulsing blood under sharpened teeth. 

"So beautiful. You're so beautiful. So flamboyant. So M I N E.~"

"T-Tengen? W-What are you doing?" His hug suddenly got tighter.

"It's alright, Princess. It'll only hurt for a second." You were suddenly aware of the adoring smiles on the wives faces as fangs poked out from between lips. "After all, a vampire's kiss is eternal.~"

[anonymous-dentist]

Part Five of the Catboy in the Village AU

Parts: One | Two | Three | Four

-

Before Cellbit can start any kind of investigation, he passes out from hunger. (Four days without eating will do that, he supposes...)

It's sort of just... quick. He's sitting up in bed so Roier can braid his hair, and then his head and eyes are all fuzzy, and then he's in a different bed with no Roier and with an absolutely killer migraine.

He groans and rolls onto his side and pulls his blanket over his head, because he knows that there's somebody watching him. He can feel their (her) eyes on him, and they're making him feel even more sick than he already feels.

"You're an idiot," the queen declares.

Cellbit just hisses at her. She doesn't deserve his words.

He can practically hear her eye roll. Wood creaks from next to his bed, footsteps clicking against the cold stone floor, and then a light 'creeeeak' as a cabinet is opened on the far side of the room. Grumbling from the queen- insults, mostly. Clinks and clatters as she searches for something.

Cellbit's stomach twists and groans from hunger. Gods, what he'd give to be in his kitchen right now with Roier making dinner less than an arm's length away from him. Smoke in Cellbit's lungs, flavor already burning his tongue, fresh bread from the bakery across the street in front of him as an appetizer.

"There's soup on the table next to you," the queen says.

But it isn't Roier's soup, is the thing. It's probably poisoned. Or, worse, it's gross. Not enough meat, probably. Possibly even vegan, eugh.

How would the queen react if Cellbit told her that he only eats dishes with human flesh cooked into them? Would that be enough for her to send him home?

...Probably not, considering she seemed more upset about him being bad at escaping prison than him actually being in prison in the first place. That opens a whole bag of worms in itself, because how in the world does the queen know about Alcatraz when Cellbit's own in-laws don't? How long has she been stalking him for?

"If you need something lighter, I can have the kitchens send up some bread or crackers," the queen continues.

"I'm not hungry," Cellbit grumbles.

He's gone for longer than four days without food. During the war, it wasn't until Bad picked him up and taught him what his claws and fangs were good for that Cellbit started having dinner more than once a week. When he was put in solitary confinement in prison, he wasn't given food at all, and he was in that cell for at least five days at a time.

He's gone for longer than four days, so it has to be something in the castle that has made Cellbit so weak. Maybe it's something in the air, some kind of magic the queen is employing to try and break him down. The bed sheets might be laced with sickness runes. The guards constantly following Cellbit and Roier around might be warlocks in league with whatever demon is haunting the castle.

"Right," the queen sarcastically says. "You're not hungry. You just passed out after not eating for four days for no reason."

Cellbit bristles so literally that his ears tent the blanket above his head. He grits his teeth together and, not for the first time, he wishes that he still had his claws.

"Exactly," he grits out. He flexes his fingers, pretending the air he's scratching is the queen's stupid (identical) face. "So. Leave."

"I'm good, actually," the queen lightly responds. She sounds beyond pissed off, but she also sounds as calm as can be expected of royalty. Ugh. "I'm going to order some bread for you in just a moment."

Cellbit's ear twitches. "No."

"You're an alchemist, yes? You know what happens when you take a potion on an empty stomach. This might be the healer's quarters, but I will not have you throwing up all over her floor."

Cellbit pulls a bit of his blanket over and away from one of his eyes so he can glare at the queen properly.

"I'm not going to throw up," he scoffs. Who does she think he is?

Now that he can see the queen, he's even more annoyed. More than that, though, he's confused because... why? Why is she here? What kind of warden pays this much attention to their prisoner?

She's rooting through a large wooden cupboard filled with things Cellbit recognizes from his own supplies back home: healing potions, powdered unicorn's horn, phoenix feather, faerie dust.

"When you passed out, you hit your head pretty hard on one of your bedposts," the queen explains, ignoring him entirely. "Your husband has requested that you be given something to help with your pain, and you know that you can't take that without something in your stomach. Stop being stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn," Cellbit huffs. "And I'm not in pain. So."

He isn't lying; he feels just fine. The only thing hurting is his stomach, and that's normal with starvation. He's more than used to the feeling by now.

"So you're going to take one dose of this potion to make your husband happy."

Oh, and now she's blackmailing him with Roier's emotions. Great.

Unfortunately for the queen, Cellbit knows his husband well enough to know that, if Roier wanted him to take a potion, he would be in the room force-feeding it to him himself. He wouldn't have Cellbit's current number one worst enemy try and do it, he isn't that cruel.

...Now that Cellbit thinks of it, where is Roier?

A bolt of panic grips Cellbit around his heart and he sits up in a flash, blanket flying off of him as his entire body tenses. His ears stick up on end, straining for any sign of Roier. Nothing.

"Where is he?" Cellbit demands.

He looks around the room and sees absolutely nothing that he can use as a weapon. Great. It's fine. It's fine! He can just-

Cellbit's vision swims, and he feels himself tipping to the side and off of the bed. The queen shouts, but he can't hear whatever she says over the sound of nothingness as he loses consciousness for the second time that day.

It takes much less time for him to wake up this time. He's up and trying to get to his feet within seconds of hitting the floor, his ears flat against his head and his eyes wide with panic as he fully decides that the queen may have, in fact, killed Roier. She had Cellbit drugged and she had Roier killed and now she's going to keep Cellbit in a much worse cell and she's going to torture him until he agrees that he's her brother and-

He's shocked back to reality as a blanket is dropped over his head from above. What?

"Roier is fine," the queen gently says. She's above him now, too- on the bed, probably, why? Is she trying to smother him? "He's the one who brought you here. He and the healer went to get some ice from the kitchens. She was going to go by herself, but he wanted to make sure she wouldn't try and poison you."

What a hero. Of course Roier would worry about the ice being poisoned, he and Cellbit both know a hundred ways to poison someone. It's hard not to know how to poison people in the potion business.

...But she's lying. The queen is lying. She hasn't told Cellbit the truth once since she first barged into his store.

...But the blanket over Cellbit's head is really heavy. Was it this heavy before? No, right?

Cellbit kneads his fingers into the knees of his trousers. He twists his wedding ring around his finger. His nose twitches. His lungs hurt.

"Still works," the queen mutters. What does that mean?

A few short, yet excruciatingly-long, moments of blanket and panic later, the door to the room slams open, and a pair of beautifully-familiar boots thud towards Cellbit. A second later, the blanket is ripped off of his head, and there's Roier holding a bowl of ice and looking so handsomely concerned.

"Gatinho..." he breathes.

And then he scowls and plops onto the ground in front of Cellbit, cross-legged. He puts the bowl down on his lap, leans forward, and grabs Cellbit by the face with both hands and squishes his cheeks together.

"I fucking told you to eat!" he shouts, only halfway angry. He squishes Cellbit's cheeks harder. "And now you are on the floor. Why are you on the floor, eh?"

"He fell," the queen responds. She's still on the bed, cross-legged herself, with her chin resting against her fist. "He wanted to search for you."

Roier 'awww's once before gently shaking Cellbit's head back and forth.

"What have I told you?" he scolds. "I'll always come back for you. Even when I die, I'll just haunt you as a sexy ghost. I'm not letting any stupid queen get rid of me?"

"Hey!" the queen protests.

Cellbit smiles, though, and he reaches up to place his hands over Roier's.

"Desculpe, guapito," he says.

Roier smiles back, his anger slowly fading from his face.

"Your forehead is all purple," he tells Cellbit. "Come here..."

He takes the blanket off of the floor and wraps it around a handful of ice cubes. It's a lumpy cold mess, but it's sweet, so Cellbit doesn't complain too much as Roier softly presses the makeshift ice pack against Cellbit's forehead.

Cellbit leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. He bites back a happy little purr. (Not in front of the queen...!)

Someone else walks into the room, but Cellbit couldn't care less about them. They have to be the healer, but there's nothing wrong with him. Nothing he can't fix himself with the right ingredients, anyway.

He cracks an eye open and glares up at the queen, who looks... thoughtful. Uh-oh.

"I'm not taking the potion," he tells her. "I don't drink anything I don't make myself."

The queen shrugs. "That's fine, then. There's a cauldron on the other side of the room. Right, Niki?"

She looks over her shoulder, and Cellbit can just barely make out a head of pink hair. Must be 'Niki', then. The healer.

"That's right!" the healer agrees. "You can use what you want! It's all in here somewhere!"

Roier leans in close and whispers, "That's Niki. She talks a lot about empanadas."

Cellbit's stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and he groans.

"Please don't mention food right now," he sighs, voice low.

"Mmm, or I can, and you'll eat something and we can go back to our room," Roier hums. He tenderly strokes Cellbit's cheek. "I'm in the mood for empanadas right now, actually. Ah, or mixiotes... or gorditas..."

Cellbit slumps forward against Roier's shoulder, bringing the ice with him.

"Guapito, please..." he whines.

"If you're hungry, I can have any of that made for you," the queen offers.

A growl bubbles up from Cellbit's throat, but Roier covers it up with a loud, "Ah! But how do we know you won't put poison in it, hmm?"

"Because I wouldn't poison my brother or my brother-in-law? That would be ridiculous!"

"Mhmm. But how can we be sure?"

"Let Roier cook for the both of us," Cellbit says. "That way, we know for sure that it'll be safe."

A beat. And then:

"Are you being serious right now?" the queen demands. "That was why you wouldn't eat? Because your husband wasn't cooking it for you?"

Cellbit turns his head to glare up at her. "You would starve yourself, too, if you had to go from his cooking to someone else's. His food is perfect. He could be a professional, you know."

The queen looks absolutely shocked. Positively bewildered. Confused beyond all belief. Angry, too. Annoyed.

"You are. Ridiculous," she stammers out. "But... fine. Yes! You should have just asked from the beginning! Oh my gods! You should have asked!"

She continues ranting about how silly Cellbit is for not trusting her despite them literally being family, which is absolutely ridiculous because, A, they aren't family, and, B, she literally knocked him out and kidnapped him and his husband and is holding them both captive.

But Cellbit doesn't listen. Instead, he thinks. Once he's back on his feet, he can actually start investigating. And then? He and Roier can go.

His stomach grumbles again; Roier giggles and pokes at Cellbit's belly and starts listing out potential dinner options in order of Cellbit's favorites to his least favorites.

...But first, dinner.

Finally.

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" part 5

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is reader's nickname, fluff, some feelings are being confessed (again), angst (poor reader) mentions of an accident, and conflicted emotions.

a/n: This one is more than 6k. I don't love this one as the last one, but I wanted to deliver this one to you. Sorry for the drama during this chapter, I was PMSing haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, please share your thoughts with me, I love reading your comments and send ne any ask if you want ❤️ Sorry for any grammar mistake.💌 p.s the first line is a reference to all too well 😭

masterlist

After 3 long months in the grave. The flowers died of thirst. The place that once seemed full of life, now it was an empty street of broken pieces left behind by your ghost, and for Joel, passing by your shop every day seemed to be the hardest task of his life.

As time passed by, the cobblestones outside your shop remained empty, echoing the silence of what once was the first page of you and him. Joel couldn’t help but wonder how he had let something as precious as that slipped through his fingers, a regret that would haunt him for a long time to come. 

Meanwhile, you found yourself far away from the streets of that life. Still in town, but trying to leave behind any trace of him and the painful memories of the night Joel broke your heart.

Your place now was next to Connell. After your castle crumbled, he was there, and before life separated the both of you, he fit in your life. He built the fire to kept you warm after the storm that left you stranded, and both of you had made the decision to give your love story a second chance. This time, taking tiny steps to build a steady castle. After all, he acted like a prince, taking you out on dates, and expressing his affection through gestures that left you feeling unworthy of his kindness. 

 You had become someone you weren’t. The one with the knife, a liar.

And these few weeks leading up to your new life in London were fulfilled by different emotions. You were busy taking care of some things, closing down your flower shop, and making arrangements for your upcoming journey. It was a bittersweet time filled with farewells to old friends, packing up your life, and starting to write the pages of your new book.  

But you still thought of Joel, the memories of him were hard to erase. He remained a lingering presence in your thoughts. You could still see you both lost in those memories, but it was never real. You shared something that didn’t work beyond words and fake actions for the world to see. And you just hated your persistent temptation to ask what would be different if you had never let those three words escaped from your lips. You may still have moments together, he may still have been part of you, but at what cost?

During the course of these three months, Lily and Tommy got together. The news left you speechless at the beginning. You were happy for them even when it was unexpected. You never saw the signs or you were just mesmerized by the other Miller to even notice Tommy was making his way through your best friend’s heart. Now, they were building their own love story, creating a heartwarming contrast to your journey. Their relationship served as a reminder that love could be found in different places. 

But for you, moving on wasn’t easy. The pain of a broken heart, mixed with the sweet memories you were leaving behind alongside the life you once knew, weighed heavily on your mind. And the biggest fear heightening over your shoulders was the intense fear of hurting Connell. 

Connell, the one thing you did right in your life. The man you knew you wanted to marry once you met him, who had always treated you right. The thought of causing him to regret you because of pain was almost unbearable.

You knew he deserved nothing but happiness, and you wondered if your relationship with Joel had permanently damaged your capacity to truly commit to and reciprocate his love.

Of course, you loved him, but you just weren’t in love with him.

And you found yourself almost every night deeply sighing in the middle of the night, wondering if Joel was still up thinking about you the same way you still thought about him. And you bet he thought you still hated him, even when you had spent the last three months thinking about the minimal chance of him coming back to you, asking for your forgiveness, and stopping you from going to another country to start a new life. 

But after three months, he had gone radio silent, and you were dreaming about him touching your face, asking if you wanted to try it for real this time.

And you despise yourself for it.

You had Connell giving you all his love, and you were becoming a knife ripping his heart.

Connell had been the one in charge of helping you to sell your shop, as you didn’t want to spend the time in that place and accidentally running into Joel.

Saying goodbye to the place you made so many memories was hitting hard on you, and you could see the love and concern in Connell’s eyes as he told he had managed the sale. Nevertheless, he spared you from details of the buyer’s identity and only walked straight to your room without uttering more words. He carried the weight of this decision on your behalf.

the next day, when he was supposed to go to the shop and give the new owner the keys of your now ex-flower shop. An emergency call prevented him from going, so he told you to go instead. 

And you couldn’t lie, even when you had decided to distance yourself from your shop and everything associated with your past, the thought of saying a final goodbye in person didn’t seem like a bad idea. You wonder about the new owner's identity, the person who would now hold the keys to a place that had been a special of your life. 

As you stood outside the shop, you took a deep breath to steady your trembling hands, so you stepped inside. The familiar scent of what was left of the flowers that once adorned the place, and the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, made your heart break at the thought of leaving. 

But in the end, your eyes fell upon the last person you expected to see, Joel. He seemed just as taken aback as you were. 

“Bee,” he said, softly,  making himself believe you were in front of him.

Your name seemed foreign slipping through his lips, the same ones brushing over your skin not long. 

You even feared speaking and risking another goodbye.

For a moment, time stopped, as if the world outside these walls didn’t exist. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Your heart raced as your eyes locked onto his, and a mix of emotions surged within you.

"Joel," you finally managed to say, your voice carrying surprise. His presence stirred memories, both beautiful and painful, and it was hard for you to face them. "What are you doing here?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding. "I… Connell sold your shop to Tommy” he said. 

Your heart constricted at the mention of Connell selling the shop to Tommy. You knew there was more behind that statement. You had gotten to know Joel to know he was lying through his teeth right now, but you had rather ignore that feeling settling in your heart. 

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

"Tommy bought the shop?" you asked, trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Joel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yes, he did. He thought it would be nice since you love this place so much.”

That stirred a mix of emotions within you, but you pushed them aside for the moment. “And why are you here instead?

“He couldn’t make it and I thought Connell was coming” Joel answered, "But it’s nice to see you.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you and Joel. The past few weeks, becoming in three months , had left their mark, and you weren't sure how to navigate life with those permanent wounds. 

Joel's presence, felt so strange to you now. The familiarity of his face, his voice, and the way he looked at you brought back a flood of memories of the stolen kisses you found yourself missing so much. 

“When are you leaving?” He asked, knowing that this would be the last time he was going to be able to have you in front of him. 

“In a week” you answered shortly. 

Joel's heart sank at the confirmation. He had everything in his hands to prevent the end of your story, but he didn’t want to stop you from finding peace and happiness in the arms of a man who truly deserved you in every way. You had chosen to start a new chapter in London with Connell, and he was the character from a chapter you were leaving behind.

He looked at you, searching for something in your eyes, a glimpse of the love you told him you felt for him. But it was hard to read your emotions. You felt a foreigner before his eyes. 

"I see," he replied, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

The room felt heavy with unsaid words and unfinished written pages. You both had left things unsaid, Joel especially, and the future was uncertain. You couldn't help but feel the pull of what once was, even as you tried to move forward with your life.  

Joel realized he had to make his peace with your decision. He had been given a chance to say those three words, three months ago, and he had to accept that he had ruined his opportunity with you. Your upcoming goodbye was a reminder that time was running out for him to say what needed to be said.

"Bee, I won't hold you back," he said, his voice gentle. "But before you go, there's something I need to tell you."

Your gaze met his, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. There was a vulnerability in him that you had rarely seen. Joel's next words would be crucial and may be a turning point for both of you.

As Joel was on the edge of saying something, the door chimed softly as it opened.

It was Connell. His entrance created an unexpected interruption, and the atmosphere grew tense.

You shared a brief glance with Joel, and the weight of the unspoken words lingered heavily.

Joel addressed Connell first; his voice laced with an attempt to save you from any problem. "We were just saying goodbye.”

Connell acknowledged this with a nod but couldn't shake the feeling that he had walked into something else.  

“I thought you were busy,” you said to Connell, walking to his side.

“I finished earlier” he gave you a small smiled as he touched one of your arms “You can wait for me outside” he told you, trying to give you reassurance.

You nodded, glancing one last time at Joel, the tension remained inside the room, and the words Joel had been on the verge of sharing with you were left hanging in the air.

And you finally exited the room, saying your last goodbye to Joel without uttering a word. 

Once you left the shop, Connell spoke first, his voice carrying a serious tone "Joel, I know you want her to forgive you, but I want you to know that she's important to me and I love her."

Joel nodded, understanding the weight of Connell's words. "I know, Connell. And you've been good to her. I've seen that."

Connell hesitated, searching Joel's eyes for sincerity. "She deserves to be happy.” 

Joel's gaze was unwavering as he replied, "I know she does. And if that means she's happier with you, then I won't stand in the way."

Connell kept silence for a moment. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Joel shook his head.

“Thank you. She would have killed me if she knew I sold the shop to you”, Connell said, with a tint of humor in his tone. 

Joel managed a small smile at Connell's comment. It was an attempt to lighten the atmosphere even though the underlying tension remained. "I wouldn't have wanted to give her another reason to be mad at me."

Connell nodded in understanding. "I appreciate that, Joel. I just want her to have a fresh start, free from all this mess”

Joel's gaze turned thoughtful. "I want that too, Connell. She deserves to move on and be happy."

Connell looked at Joel for a moment. “You made her happy too. Don’t blame yourself too hard, Joel” 

Joel met Connell's gaze, gratitude and sadness intertwined in his eyes. "Thank you, Connell. It means a lot to hear that from you."

The two men shared a silent moment, the weight of feeling they both share for you intertwined lives somehow.

Joel took a deep breath, finally breaking the silence. "I should get going. You both have a new life to start."

Connell extended his hand, and Joel shook it firmly. "Take care of her, Connell."

Connell nodded; his grip steady. "I will, Joel. And you take care of yourself too."

With that, Joel turned and walked away, leaving behind the memories he shared with you inside this place, the first stolen glances, the fighting, the laughter, and the cups of coffee you left for him every morning. All that being left behind, buried.  

As Joel stepped out of the shop, he turned and locked eyes with you for what felt like the last time. The weight on both of your hearts hung in the air. In that fleeting moment, your gazes held longing and hurt. You were the tear hanging inside his heart. 

And Joel's eyes searched yours for a final glimpse of love. He had wanted to say so much, but the timing had never been right, and now it was too late, but he hoped that you’d find your way back in the end. 

You met his gaze with sadness and understanding. There was something about him that made your heart clench. He had been the man who touched your soul before your skin, and how would it be possible for you to forget about that?

You offered a small nod, and he returned it in kind, sharing that secret language you both learned, as a silent goodbye. 

Was that “I love you” the worst thing he had ever heard?

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Joel turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. The chapter you had shared was closing, and as he faded from view, you knew it was time to look ahead, to embrace the new beginning that awaited next to Connell miles away. 

Connell watched that unspoken interaction and sensed the weight on your shoulders. He walked over to you, and gently pressed a kiss on your forehead, as a tender gesture, a silent promise of a future without wounds to take care of.  With his kiss, he silently looked for reassurance that you weren’t having second thoughts. 

.....

The warmth of the evening had set the perfect backdrop for a dinner in the backyard. You and Connell had prepared a delightful spread of chicken, grilled vegetables, and a bottle of wine that Connell had selected for sharing with your friends. Lily and Tommy sat around the wooden patio table, the soft glow of string lights overhead casting a warm glow.

As Tommy and Connell got engrossed in a conversation about their favorite sports teams, you and Lily found yourselves drawn to the quieter solace of the backyard. There, under the starry sky, you could speak without being overheard.

You looked at them, attentive, with a serious expression, your eyes reflected the soft, flickering light.  

Lily glanced at you; concern etched across her face. "A penny for your thoughts, Bee bee?” 

You took a deep breath, “I think I’m a little bit nervous about next week.” 

Lily's eyes filled with understanding as she listened intently. “Nervous about London? Or leaving Joel behind?”

Your gaze shifted, and you looked at Lily with surprise. It was as if she had read your thoughts, as always. You nodded slowly. "Both, actually.” 

Lily leaned in closer, her voice a soft, comforting murmur. "Bee, it's okay to have mixed feelings. Leaving behind a place and someone who meant so much to you is never easy. But it's also the beginning of this new adventure with Connell."

You sighed, feeling grateful for Lily's understanding. She made you feel at ease with your racing thoughts. “I just wish it were simpler, you know? I don't want to hurt anyone. I couldn’t forgive myself if I hurt Connell” 

At that moment, your and Connell's gazes met from the distance. He gave you a big smile which you mirrored, but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

You felt Lily’s hand on yours as a gesture of reassurance. “You have a big heart, Bee. Connell loves you for who you are. Trust in that."

Lily's words were a soothing balm to your worried mind. Her support and the warm of her friendship alongside the starry evening created a special moment in her last days in this place. You knew that leaving the past behind was never a straightforward journey, but it was reassuring to have a friend who understood your complexities.

As Connell's gaze met yours and you exchanged smiles, once again, you realized that your anxieties didn't mean you loved him any less. The weight of the past could coexist with the past, and maybe you could learn how to fall in love with him again. 

Joel managed a fragile smile, and he held your hand as if it were the lifeline he needed at that moment.

Sarah and Tommy lingered in the doorway, watching the two of you with tiny smiles on their faces. 

Joel spoke softly, "I'm sorry for worrying you, Bee."

You shook your head, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Don’t say anything” you said as you laid your head on his chest, as if hearing the beating of his heart would reassure you, he was going to be okay.

As you leaned your head against Joel's chest, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you didn't notice Connell watching the two of you from the hospital lobby. His expression was unreadable. There was concern, understanding, and a tinge of jealousy. 

Connell had supported you through everything since you both were eighteen years old, and he loved you deeply. But seeing you in this moment with Joel stirred emotions within him that he couldn't fully process, leaving a siren in his mind.

Sarah and Tommy decided to leave the room, giving the two of you some privacy. Joel's hand gently rested on your back, his fingers tracing comforting patterns down your spine as if his fingers were brushes tracing lines on your back.

Joel spoke again "Bee, I know I've made a mess of things, but I want you to know that you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words."

You didn't respond with words. Instead, you tightened your grip on him, holding him close, and Connell remained in the background, his thoughts and feelings his own, as you and Joel found peace in each other's presence. 

Once you were back home, you were awfully quiet for Connell’s like. He had seen the way your face sparkled when you were with Joel in his room, how you held him tight, and how you seemed terrified at the thought of losing him.

It was the moment in which Connell realized he wasn’t the one anymore, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to hold onto the memories. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked you, trying to make you talk.

Connell's voice pulled you out of the storm inside your mind since your arrival from the hospital. You turned to face him, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'm okay, Connell," you replied, though your tone carried a hint of sadness. "Just a lot to process."

He nodded; concern showed across his features. "I understand. It's a lot to take in. But you know I'm here for you, right?"

You appreciated Connell's support more than you could express. He had been a rock in your life. It was just the reappearance of Joel after these three months and the accident had stirred up a multitude of feelings you thought didn’t exist. 

"I do,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. "You've been amazing, and I love you for that."

Connell's smile brightened at your words, and he squeezed your hand gently. "I love you too” he declared as he kissed your temple, as a way to find reassurance. 

You hugged Connell tightly as if to reassure yourself that you were still grounded in the present, even as the past loomed large in your heart and mind.

But for Connell, the pages were clearly written and he knew your heart didn’t belong to him anymore. 

One week later, and the night before your departure for London, everything seemed bittersweet around you. You were finished packing what was the last of your belongings, and the weight of leaving your life behind was the heavier suitcase you were carrying.

During the last week, you didn’t see Joel. All the updates about his recovery were through Lily, and the only thing you knew was that he had been dispatched from the hospital today.

You really wanted things between Connell and you to work out, so you made your promise to not see Joel again in order to do that. That night in the hospital was the goodbye you needed, and that was it. He was okay, so you were okay. You had bled, but your wounds would heal sooner than later. 

Nevertheless, Connell had been watching your movements for the last few days, and now, as you were carefully folding your clothes and going through the last-minute preparations. He found the strength to speak up. 

"There's something I've been thinking about," Connell began, his eyes reflecting the depths of his feelings.

You paused in your packing, looking into Connell's eyes, eager to hear what he had to say. "What is it?”

Connell took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. " I don't want to be the reason for your regrets."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Connell spoke, tears welled up in your eyes. 

“You love him,” he said in a breathy voice. 

He wasn’t thinking about himself anymore, or where you would go after this, he was thinking about you. 

“Connell, we’re leaving tomorrow. I’m with you and I love you” you whispered, trying to convince him, and mostly yourself at the same time. 

Connell nodded, his own eyes brimming with tears. "You love me, I know, but you’re not in love with me.” 

You wiped away a tear, your voice trembling. "Connell"

“You’re in love with Joel and he is in love with you”, he declared.

As much as he was devasted by the thought of letting you go, he wanted you to be happy. He would give you everything, even when he would be a little in between for a while.

You shook your head. “He isn’t.”

“Then why did he buy your shop?”

“What?” Your eyes widened. You felt shocked and confused. “Why?”

Connell reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I think he did it because he thought you would come back and because he is in love with you.” 

Connell gazed at you with a mixture of sadness and love. "And I love you enough to let you go” " He said “You need more time to figure things out, and I don’t want you to go with me if you can’t do that.”

His words pierced your heart. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you said, whispering. 

Connell chuckled softly, Connell squeezed your hand gently, and then he cupped your face with his hand to look at you in the eyes. “Nothing you say or you do would make me hate you” You leaned in his touch and hugged him tightly, crying on his shoulder.

“I love you more than I could express.” You mumbled.

Connell held you tightly, his embrace filled with love, even though he knew it was time to let you go. His heart was heavy.

And the next morning, with one last, lingering kiss, you and Connell let each other go. You watched him boarding the plane, and as it took off, your eyes watered, you let your tears fall down your cheeks.

That plane carried Connell away from your life again, and you held onto the final image of Connell, offering a gentle wave and a bittersweet smile, muttering an “I love you” at you before disappearing from your sight. 

Once you got in your car, you felt the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket suffocating you. All the love, guilt, sadness, and anger crunched your heart, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

In the spare of seconds, Joel came to your mind and you felt anger surging through your veins like fire. You couldn’t help but blame him for ruining the opportunity you had to move on. You questioned yourself why you still wanted to go back to him and why he was coming back to you in your dreams as if he wanted to taunt you, and your frustration grew.

With a burning feeling settled in your chest, you made your way to Joel's house. You couldn't understand why he had bought your shop, why he had disrupted your life once again, so once you arrived, you stormed out of the car, determined to confront him. 

 You stood at his doorstep, your knuckles brushing against the wood, your heart pounding in your chest. When the door opened, there he stood, still bandaged from the accident. He looked surprised at seeing you here. 

"Joel," you began, your voice laced with anger. "Why?”

His brows furrowed, and he stammered "Bee, I thought you'd be on a plane to London with Connell by now."

You met his surprised gaze with anger. "I was supposed to be, but Connell stopped me from it.” 

Joel seemed surprised, but something in his gaze showed relief at knowing you would still be here. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his house, and you both moved to the living room. The familiar surroundings seemed to echo with memories of your last time together. The three words you confessed to him, the way he broke your heart, and then you walked out of his life. 

“Why did you lie to me?” you demanded “Why did you tell Tommy bought my shop, when it was really you?”

You were met with silence.

“Why did you buy it, Joel?” you shouted. 

“Because I knew you would come back to me,” he said, as a matter of fact. Simply as if he owned you.

Your anger flared at his audacity. "You can't just manipulate my life like that, Joel! You can't decide things for me without even asking” Your voice suddenly deepened. “And for what do you even want me?” you asked “For playing with my fee-“

Joel's lips crashed onto yours, and for a moment, you were stunned into silence. The kiss was intense and filled with all the longing and regret Joel felt. 

As he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "I bought the shop because I couldn't bear to see you go without a chance for us to make things right."

You were caught between anger and desire, your heart racing from the sudden kiss. "Joel, you can't just kiss me and expect everything to be fixed."

He reached out to cup your face, even with one of his hands broken, his thumb gently tracing your cheek. "I'm not expecting that, Bee. I just needed you to know that I love you”

 Torn between your anger and the lingering love you felt, you took a step back, away from his touch.

“What?”

“I love you,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. “I’m in love with you.” 

Your eyes and mouth were wide open, but you still managed to shoot him a glare. You could pretend you didn’t hear him and leave. You didn’t trust yourself right now, but his big brown eyes prevented her from walking away.

He told you he was in love with you.

Your voice wavered as you replied, "Joel, you can't just say that now. Not after everything that happened."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know I should have said it earlier, and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. But it's the truth, Bee. I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes me to make things right."

You struggled to maintain your composure, you were shocked,

“Are you going to say something?” he whispered. 

 "Joel, it's not that simple” you spoke

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I understand that. I know we have a lot to work through, and I'm willing to take the time and the effort.” 

Your heart ached at his words, and the internal battle you had been fighting raged on. "Joel, I need time to think and process all of this. I can't make any promises right now."

Joel reached out to gently touch your arm, a silent plea in his eyes. "I'll give you the time you need, Bee. Just promise me you won't leave” he said, cupping your face.

You found yourself relaxing with his presence and touch, by nodding your head as a silence promise. 

 "Okay,” you whispered.

Your head was a thunderstorm of infinite questions running through your head. You had so many, but you didn’t know where to start. 

He smiled at you, and that made you lose your mind and you don’t know what to do, what to express, or how to act. 

“I’m glad you’re okay” you whispered.

Joel's smile held a genuine warmth, and his thumb traced soothing patterns on your cheek. "I'm glad I'm okay too, and I'm grateful you're still here."

The two of you stood there in a moment of fragility as your eyes locked onto Joel’s.

You had to go before you lost your mind, and you needed space to clear your head. You took a step back, your gaze not quite meeting his. 

"I need to go now, Joel. I need time to think."

Joel's expression showed understanding, and he nodded. "I get it, Bee. Take all the time you need."

You turned and headed for the door; your steps were slow as if a string was pulling into him. The weight of what started as a simple game between you two, the confusion of the present and the uncertainty of the future were heavy on your shoulders. You needed time to heal your scars, to figure out what your heart truly wanted.

Before leaving, you glanced back at Joel, and for a brief moment, your eyes met again, unspoken words flowing in the air. Then, you stepped out, leaving behind the man who had both broken and mended your heart, and who now waited for your decision.

It was his time to wait now.

a/n: Okay, so now he bought the shop because he knew she was going to come back to him somehow and he wanted to have it for her because the flower shop was important to her and after all, he has the keys to her heart (yes, as cheesy as it sounds). Now, he has to fix everything and suffer a little because the reader (bee) has to be loved. btw I'm already thinking about the next fic

tags: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey

[simp4konig]

"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

                                        ...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Rec - Month 8 Nov 16 - Dec 15

Previous lists under the cut at the bottom

0-5k

merle said mama tried, but the prison still won by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 2.9k Eddie goes to (mall) jail.

do you love me? all you gotta do is say yes by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Teen | 3.1k two boy best friends and an ex lover walk into a grocery store. everyone is on their normalest behaviour.

drawstrings by browney3dgirl6 / @hoodie-buck Mature | 3.7k Eddie helps Buck fix his drawstrings. How was he supposed to know it’d lead to him sitting in Bucks lap?

Here Comes the Jackpot Question In Advance by lamardeuse / @lamardeuse Teen | 4.1k Buck is determined to start the new year right.

5k-10k

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire / @try-set-me-on-fire Teen | 8.3k Bobby deals with the ramifications of a misplaced confession

10k-20k

Don't Push Me So Far Away I Can't Reach You by giselleslash. / @gigi-gigi Mature | 12k the one where Buck thinks he and Eddie are just friends with benefits so he pushes Eddie to date other people because he’s an idiot.

give it to someone special by rainbow_nerds / @rainbow-nerdss Mature | 12.3k Buck and Eddie meet at the airport after their respective girlfriends live their Hallmark movie dreams and dump them right before Christmas.

into thirty separate parts by hammersmiths / @henswilsons Teen | 12.6k Taylor’s book comes out.

sang to the sea for feelings deep blue by Tizniz / @tizniz General audiences | 14k The 118 responds to a cruise ship emergency.

20k - 30k

say (don't) go by bccalling / @fiona-fififi Teen | 20.4k Eddie starts dropping hints he wants more kids. Buck assumes he means with Marisol. Buck spirals about it. Eddie does not mean with Marisol.

deck the halls (and your in-laws) by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Mature | 29.6k Eddie and Buck, recently married and moved into their new house, have the (dis)pleasure of unexpectedly hosting their parents through the holiday season. It’s not what either of them want or need, but they can get through it because they’re in this together. Right?

30k +

Facets of a Diamond by countrygirlsfun / @acountrygirlsfun Teen | 35.1k Southern California is where Buck has spent the most time since leaving Pennsylvania. Of all the places he’s lived and worked over the last few years, this place is where he decided to stay. It’s why he picked LAFD: to put down some roots. It’s warm, has the ocean, and it’s the opposite coast of his parents. So if he’s going to be here for a while, he thinks he’ll need to make an effort to let people in.

Sweet Nothing by LongConvolutedSimiles Teen | 37.8k Buck and Eddie go on dates, fall in love and get together. Yes in that order.

Maybe More Than I Should by Leslie_Knope Mature | 51.5k Eddie caught sight of the man leaning against the side of his desk and immediately wanted to retreat to the relative safety of the hallway, back in time when he lived happily not knowing that Mr. Buckley was apparently some kind of male model masquerading as a third-grade teacher.

it walks with my legs (to fall at your feet) by Underhung_Aura / @eddiebabygirldiaz Explicit | 61.8k a buddie summer sons au where buck and eddie get caught up in something bigger than themselves and awaken a power that haunts them for the rest of their lives; however, the unspoken truths and love between them haunts them more than any ghost ever could.

a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum Explicit | 117k Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels Explicit | 120k Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15) Month 5 (September 16 - October 15) Month 6 (October 16 - November 15) Month 7 (November 16 - December 15)

[banquetwriter]

I NEED vampire Jonnie Guilbert idc if it’s smut or fluffy I just need a vampire Jonnie however you wanna write it and whenever you have the chance too take your time and thanks in advance if you do this!!!!

୨୧ bleeders part 1 ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ NOT PROOF READ, general vampire stuff so talk of blood and death,

summary: ʚ after roaming your family’s old property you discover that a shadowy figure and you might have a long history ʚ

Words: idk :p

An: let’s pretend this isn’t almost 6 months old. also ik that johnnie is way more emo but he does enjoy a few classic goth things so in my head he is like a goth in the 80’s before he died lol

The rain was only picking up as the night went on. You were packing your bag up. Putting on extra layers of clothes is anything you could possibly need for a midnight stroll.

It was bad.

You knew it was bad, you just couldn't help yourself. Ever since you had started to explore your family's grounds you had a new purpose it seems. Studying during the light hours but as soon as the night came you were bundling up to go exploring.

You hadn't always lived in this house. But when you were 18 your parents tragically passed away and left you this house in your name. You weren't sure why at all. You hadn't even known it was here.

It was sorta like the house wanted to be forgotten. You weren't the type to believe in all that “spooky” stuff but you could not deny the creepy vibes of the property.

The previous caretaker was nice enough and said while the house and surrounding land were beautiful they definitely had some repairing needed. He told you that in order for the house to be livable it would need work and lots of it. He also quickly told you not to go too far at night, there were lots of creatures at night and he didn't want you to get hurt at all.

And with that, he left. You were a photographer which meant you got to work on your own time. You documented all the work you had done on the house and had skyrocketed your success online and financially. Three years later, a few days after your 21st birthday, you were finally officially done with renovating the house.

You kept the historic feel and haunted “vampire vibe”. But your curious and creative heart was bored by the house, so you took to the outside. Going out at night and choosing to shoot your pictures there.

You planned on slowly transforming the grounds too but that was going to take some time. You placed your camera in your bag and set out, locking your house. You flipped your hood up and started down the path you usually take.

Last time you had discovered what looked like a tombstone about a mile from your house. You took a deep breath in as the rain made your bones cold. You made it out to the tombstone once again. You looked down at it. You couldn't make out the name but it looked old. Like really really old. You stepped back taking a few pictures of it.

Suddenly you heard a tree branch snap from somewhere beside you. You whipped your head around frantically. The images of all the different types of creatures out here flashed through your mind. Luckily it was just a deer. How odd. You had never seen a deer out here before. But maybe whatever creature lives out here kills them before you can see them.

You pull your camera out and line up the shot. The animal slowly nibbled on some grass under a tree. You snap the photo and look down at your camera looking at the photo, and suddenly another tree branch snaps. You start spinning around further rain hitting your face.

And between the rain, fog, and trees, you could make out a figure. You freeze in place, “Is someone on out there?” you call out, your voice shaking. The shadow doesn't move at all.

You point your camera trying to see if you can catch any sort of proof. You snap a picture in the direction of the figure. Once the picture is taken you look away from the camera looking back to see that the figure is no longer there. You huff out checking your camera to see if you caught the picture.

It wasn't there… Suddenly another twig snapped. This was your cue to bolt. You pushed your camera into the bag and ran for it. Attempting not to trip and fall on every piece of shrubbery.

You finally manage to stumble into your backyard. You fumble for your keys and it drops on the ground in front of your back door. You have looking behind you not seeing anything but the pictures of horrifying creatures flash through your mind. You scramble to pick up

Your keys and unlock the door.

You slam the door shut breathing heavily. “Fuck.” you mutter clambering all your stuff onto the counter. The rest of the night you are restless. Unable to sleep, picturing the figure staining your memory.

The next morning you gingerly come downstairs staring at your camera bag. You roll your eyes choosing to make yourself some tea. However, sipping your tea made you hyperfocus on the bag. You internally groaned before checking the picture from last night.

Nothing. No figure at all. Odd. Creepy and odd. But apparently not creepy enough to scare you away. So here you were back next to the tombstone like last night. You moved further to what looked like a graveyard. Around 12 or so graves littered a small patch of very overgrown shrubs.

They were split down the middle, the right side set of graves being more dilapidated. Checking the left side there were several graves with your last name. Which would make sense but it still freaks you out. You shook your head turning the batch of graves on the right.

All the graves had different last names and dramatically different years of death. One caught your interest. It seemed to be the youngest out of the group. “Here lies Johnnie Guilbert, in sin, Born: August 28, 1960, Died: October 31, 1986.”

He was only 26. You wondered what “in sin” meant but probably nothing good. You didn't like the thought of the graves being abandoned like this, you plucked a few flowers from the surrounding areas and lined them on the graves. Adding a few more to Johnnie’s. You sighed walking back to your house.

Once it was late at night again you decided to travel back to the graves seeing if you could catch the figure again. This time you came more prepared with a flashlight.

You crouched down in the misty leaves, waiting to see it again. And sure enough, you heard a small crunching of leaves. It wasn't as loud this time but you heard it. Your eyes follow the sound and see the figure once again.

“Show yourself, please,” you shouted. The figure seems to sway for a second before standing almost still. “I-I won't hurt you. Who are you?” you called out. The figure stayed where it was. Fine then. You pointed the flashlight at it.

You did not see what you thought you would. A pale-looking guy with a gothic-looking vibe stood before you. His hair was teased, and he had makeup dripping down his face. He was in a white button-up and black pants.

“Woah,” I said breathlessly. He just sorta stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Um, I don't know,” he answered honestly.

There was something off about him. You weren't sure why but you found yourself asking one simple question. “What are you?” you asked. He sighed not knowing how to answer. “Um.” he quietly spoke. Before hesitantly lifting his finger to his mouth before pulling his lips open.

Revealing pearly white fangs. You gasp, stepping back. The bag you are holding slips and within a flash the guy is standing next to you holding your bag up for you to grab. “Oh my god,” you murmur.

“I'm a v-” he stops himself, looking over and avoiding eye contact. “Vampire. I'm a vampire,” he whispers. And you weren't sure why but you believed him. He had a trusting aura. You slowly grabbed your bag from him.

“You probably don't believe me,” he whispered looking at you. “I do,” you whispered. He looked back at you. “Here follow me,” he said, taking your hand. He wrapped his, freezing, hand around your wrists pulling you to a grave.

It was Johnnie. “Fuck.” you mutter. “I saw you putting flowers on my grave. It's what made me actually talk to you,” he said timidly. His chest rose and fell rapidly seemingly waiting for my reaction.

I had a lot of feelings. Shock. Being the first but lots of curiosity. You wanted to ask how he died, and did he drink human blood.

Suddenly the very real danger of being next to him kicked in. “Wait-” you said, stepping away from him. His eyes changed. A sad film bloomed over his eyes. “Do you-” you stopped yourself. You didn't want to be insensitive to his “kind” that drinking human blood was probably a gross exaggeration.

Even if he did drink human blood he was hot enough to get away with it.

He looked at you waiting for you to finish your sentence. You shook your head instead of finishing your probably offensive words. “Never mind,” you said, waving away the thought.

The rain continued to pour down onto the forest overhead. The water drops slipping down and hitting your head. The cold finally got to it and you let out an involuntary shiver.

“Here, let's go back to my house. It's not too far up this trail.” I said pointing towards my house. “Are you sure you want to let me in?” he asks surprised with my invite. I turn to him, and for what seems to be the thousandth time this night I feel a sense of trust wash over my body.

“Yes,” I say confidently. He nods his head waiting for me to lead the way. As we walk I hear more of a story I almost wish I didn't know. “Why is there a grave in my backyard? And why are you buried there?” I ask stepping over a log.

He takes a deep sigh. “Your family. This area… your bloodline has been here for longer than most of those graves. There isn't an easy way to put this. But your family were vampire hunters.” he said and you stopped dead in your tracks.

His eyes caught yours. This was a lot of information to take in. “Continue.” you simply said starting to walk again. “There was a group of vampires that roamed this area and finally your family and a few others decided it was time to do something about it. All those graves back there are for vampires. Stakes in the heart.” he explained.

You took a deep breath wrapping around this idea for a while. “Then why are you like walking around?” you asked timidly. Johnnie takes a deep sigh. “Well it's complicated but by the time I was turned into a vampire only your family still hunted them and I wasn't turned because I wanted to… I did some bad stuff and as a result, I had a lot of bad stuff happen,” he said vaguely.

You nodded. “Did my family take pity on you?” you asked as you saw your house on the horizon. “Basically. Your grandfather wanted me dead but your dad didn't so that's why there is a grave but I'm not dead. Again I guess.” he said.

“Is that partially my graveyard too? I saw names that have my last name.” I explained stepping onto the porch. “Yes it is,” he said slowly climbing up them.

I unlock the door and wait for him to enter, but he doesn't. The door stands open but he just sits there. “Why are you standing out there?” you asked. “A-a vampire can't just go into a house we need to be invited in by the owner,” he says before staring at the top of the door.

“Please, enter my home,” you said. He stepped in and took in the house. He had seen the outside so many times but never seen the inside. You rushed around the house stripping the wet jacket off and setting your camera down.

You looked over to see Johnnie staring into a mirror, you came back behind him to see only yourself in the mirror. He couldn't see his reflection. As you walked up behind him you saw his eyes brimmed with tears. It must be hard not to be able to look at yourself.

“L-looks like your house still has mirrors with silver in them,” he murmured. “Is that why you can't see yourself?” you ask, turning to face him. “Sorta. Any mirror with silver and I can't see myself. But there are a lot of mirrors made without that now. Right after I turned I could see my reflection in stuff but as I “age” in defiance of nature but soul continues to leave, so it's harder to see myself in lakes and stuff” he said, recalling what seemed to be a distant memory.

“Well I can see you and you look great. Very on brand for a vampire,” you whispered standing closer to him. He couldn't help but let out a weak smile at your words. “Thanks. I dressed like this even before I turned,” he said.

The rest of the night went smoothly. You found out that he had drunk off of people but he really didn't do it much only when he was really weak. While it sorta scared you also intrigued you. You fell fast asleep on the couch wrapped in a blanket. Johnnie, unable to sleep, quietly watched the tv you had put on and looked over at your sleeping form.

This was nice. He can't remember the last time he was in a nice house like this, with someone so nice. But all good things have to come to an end, and the sun will be up in a few hours.