#it just feels so rushed and unnatural? i think it ties into how i see logan as more of your average depressd teenager instead of uwu softboy

[madcatlad]

I just came to a angst realization....

(Thank you to @shirazens for allowing me to use their comment)

I literally just came to this conclusion in a comment threat under my "Aaron Needs Friends" post with @shirazens .

In summary Aarmau comes off as unnatural

I think the main issue is how rushed and force the relationship was in the series, and the fact that it change key elements in the story to make a place for itself.

The Aarmau agenda also had to down other characters to build itself up, which sucks. A lot of character assassination stem from Aarmau. Including the way Aphmau interacts with her support. But I'd like to focus on how unnatural (and frankly problematic) this relationship comes across if you actually pay attention to how they interact with eachother.

And their relationship is certainly off.

@shirazens

THIS is why I've always disliked his character, he felt so disconnected.

also he continues to constantly mourn his past wife WHILE getting closer to aphmau which feels like to me he was just using her if that makes sense?

Their relationahip has always come across as strange.

In my former post I address a portion of this problem with Aaron not having any relationships outside of Aphmau. It is odd.

Aaron- despite being so closed off and mysterious and (quite rude in some instances), CONTINUED to follow her group around for months...but NEVER take an interest in ANYONE??? Except Aph. That is mad weird. If you like her so much to risk your life for her consistently why avoid her Support System so adamantly???

It makes the relationship seem very strange. Almost like Aaron is isolating Aphmau from her friends when building their relationship. They only really talked about his trauma or her stress-

Aaron and Aphmau are TRAUMA BONDING...

It hit me like a train! It isn't romance, it isn't a love story. It is codependency!

Aph ONLY goes to Aaron when she is stressed about her responsibilities. "Because he understands". And in turn Aaron's only personality trait is trauma- and he only really opens up to (or talks at all) to Aphmau. Think about it, this man is FOLLOWING her- for seemingly NO REASON by time the Post-Irene-Dimension arc roles around! "Having nothing" isn't really a logical reason anymore. He had NO motive to be present. He's made no connections, no character growth, no earthly ties, so WHY are you following the 🎆"magical friendship woman"🎆 if you don't want to make friends???

And I think this is great writing potential. This makes sense for the storyline in season two, as Aph was extremely overwhelmed, and the steaks had just risen from village quarrels to Armageddon. And I definitely can see where @shirazens was going with the how Aaron saw Aphmau, as a stand in or familiarity to his wife, or that he was using Aphmau to get a semblance of his late wife, Lily.

Personally I'm not amongst the re-write clan of aph-fans, (I prefer to progess with the shit show we were given). But this is a juicy narrative to explore for both, especially if you don't want to throw out Aarmau all together.

If you want to get angsty, you could argue that Aaron being so distant to Aph's support group was to isolate her from them. Again, this fits, and I am well aware Jesson did not intend this BUT Aphmau DID become a lot more distant to her companions for Aaron's sake. She became dismissive of their concerns, argued with their suspicions, and lowkey berated them because "she trusted him" and expected everyone to follow suit (fr a lot of them were so real for that, homie was acting up- ahem- Laurence- ahem- Katelyn). She put Aaron on a pedestal out of nowhere, and vouched for him undeservingly. You could argue that this was a result of isolating her, you could argue that this was just Aph blindness to Aaron's faults.

And this also really REALLY fits well with the Irene VS Shad motif and how that entire mess went down between them. I can totally see those two being codepent with one another as well with their similar struggles and pain. I can see them relying on one another too heavily. I can see that leading to suck strong feelings of betrayal. Especially if Shad was as isolated as Aaron. In fact I'd say Irene and Shad damn near prove this idea.

Fun right?

[lowlylux]

I am a Sinner (You are a Saint)

Chapter Eight | Revelations

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 2.2k

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

ao3 link

Heizou groans as he feels pain erupt from the back of his head.  His eyes have not yet adjusted to the lack of light, causing him to squint, but even that attempt is futile.  Heizou in this very moment is helpless when it comes to finding out his situation and specifically how to rectify it.

He tries to move his arms, only to realize that his hands are tied together.  And, considering the fact that it is rope and he has nothing to cut it with, he doesn’t even have a chance to free his restraints.  Suddenly, he regrets going into that damned factory.

Memories of the last time he was conscious flood his mind.  He can’t remember much, just Sanada knocking him out.  And sure, that is pretty shocking, but he really doesn’t think Sanada is the murderer.  He just isn’t the type.

So that leads to his long-running theory of the possibility of supernatural involvement, which seems much more likely now.  But he still can’t prove it, which definitely is a problem.

Lights are flicked on in an instant, leaving Heizou no chance to prepare whatsoever.  He hisses in surprise, scrunching up his face until he finally feels like it is safe to open his eyes once more.  Although, truth be told, he regrets opening his eyes once he does.

In front of him is Sanada, who is very much not alive in any capacity.  Blood pools from a wound on neck, the liquid inching closer to Heizou’s feet as time goes on.  He’s pale, but not enough to mean he’s been dead for long.  Sanada’s black hair is messy, the back of it being wet from what Heizou can only assume is his own blood.  But what bothers him the most is the never blinking eyes.  They stay staring at the ceiling, slightly cloudy, the last expression of pure horror forever etched onto his face.

Sanada was still young, and while Heizou didn’t know him, he knows that Sanada didn’t deserve this ending.

Heizou looks further, noticing the fact that someone is across the room.  He’s shrouded in a partial shadow, but what Heizou cannot even comprehend is why someone would just be sitting in a chair, calmly watching the scene unfold.  “Past the shock?” The person asks, standing up so that he is in full view.

Heizou gapes at the sight.  He has never really seen this person outside of a few interactions, but seeing them here so calmly is incredibly mind blowing.  “Pantalone?”

In front of him is the medical examiner, a usually flippant individual that Heizou rarely sought out.  He was always strange, obsessed with the dead in a way that seemed unnatural and frankly made Heizou uncomfortable.  But here he is, standing there proudly, his unnatural pale blue hair pinned away from his face.

“You couldn’t even go by a seperate name?” Someone asks, causing Heizou to snap his attention to the newcomer.  

He looks just like Pantalone…

“I like my given name,” the one Heizou assumes is Pantalone says, shrugging while he talks.

“Well I could’ve given you a name.”

“I’m not going to take advice from someone who’s named Dottore.”

Dottore gasps in a fake manner, feigning offense.  “I’ll have you know that my name is-“ his focus turns to Heizou in an instant, as if he forgot that he was even there.  “He’s awake.”

“Obviously,” Pantalone scoffs before glancing at his hands and groaning.  “You know, your skin is the fucking worst.  Would it kill you to actually take care of yourself?”  If Heizou wasn’t used to Scaramouche at this point, the sight in front of him would cause him to scream out.  But even if he’s used to the unknown, it doesn’t make it any less shocking.  Pantalone completely changes in a mere moment, his features meshing together until a new person emerges.  He has longer black hair, however the hair clips remain.  But what is most shocking is his eyes, the pupils resembling that of a snake.

Dottore walks toward Heizou, kneeling so that they can be eye to eye.  His smile is strained, as if he is annoyed with Heizou’s presence, but he keeps his intentions unknown for the time being.  “Shikanoin Heizou, we need to talk.”

●•·•●

It took hours before Kazuha fell asleep.  Scaramouche at first didn’t really know what to do.  Sure, he knows how to support someone, but Kazuha was damn near inconsolable.  Scaramouche couldn’t even understand half of what Kazuha said in those hours, but he could understand the fact that Kazuha feel guilty.  That morning, Heizou mentioned both of them calling out of work so that he could take Kazuha to the boardwalk, but Kazuha insisted that they needed to work.  So Scaramouche sat there, letting Kazuha cry his heart out in his lap until he inevitably couldn’t bear to be conscious anymore.

That was when Scaramouche took the chance to get out of the house.  When he found himself at the doorstep of a summer house that reeked of magic, he knew there was no turning back when it comes to the decision he is making.  He knocks, and isn’t at all surprised when the door opens.  

Zhongli stands there, face completely neutral. “Kunikuzushi…”

“It’s Scaramouche.”

Zhongli releases a sigh, shaking his head.  “Fine, Scaramouche, what are you doing here?”

Scaramouche stares at Zhongli for a moment, as if he would be able to decipher what the old archangel is thinking.  Obviously, he can’t, but it would be nice if he could.  “Is Childe here?”

The older angel clears his throat in an instant, as if doing so will clear any tension between the two.  “He’s inside.”

Scaramouche just nods as he steps into the house, pausing for a moment once inside.  “You know, I knew you took frequent trips to the human realm, but I never thought you would have an entire life here.” He just sends Zhongli a side glance as he continues to talk.  “Tell me Zhongli, do the divine know about all of this?  What would Celestia think of one of their own archangels, an archon of power, being a lover of a demon?”

“And who would tell Celestia of my transgressions?” 

Scaramouche turns around fully, sending Zhongli a glare.  “You’re an ass for that comment, you know that?”

“That was the point.” Zhongli says, leaning toward Scaramouche so that he can whisper, “I pity your situation, I truly do, but don’t threaten me and what I’ve built here again.  Am I clear, Kunikuzushi ?”

Scaramouche just glares at him, not enjoying this interaction at all.  “Crystal.”

“Great,” Zhongli says, straightening his back as he smiles at Scaramouche.  “Childe is in the kitchen, he’ll be so happy you stopped by.”

Scaramouche just nods in response, not particularly wanting to egg on Zhongli any further.  He turns, going toward what he can only assume is the kitchen and luckily he is correct.  And, to Zhongli’s credit, Childe is in the kitchen.

The ginger is humming to himself, a pile of folded laundry on the table and a pot of something on the stove.  Childe grabs another shirt, finally noticing Scaramouche when he’s in the middle of folding.  “Scara!  What a surprise!”

“Childe, Heizou’s missing.”

Childe finishes folding the shirt with a sigh.

And Scaramouche, for how smart he is, is absolutely dumbfounded.  The odd realization that Childe knew more than he let on creeps into his very soul, gripping his mind until he is unable to think of anything else.  “ You knew? ”

“I was aware of a potential threat, yes.” Childe says, grabbing another shirt in the process.

“What the fuck Childe?” Scaramouche says, grabbing the shirt from Childe’s hands.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it wasn’t my place.”

“If Heizou’s dead-“

“He’s not,” Childe says far too quickly for Scaramouche’s liking.  The demon glances at Scaramouche before shaking his head, as if pitying him.  “We would be meeting in much worse circumstances if he was.”

Childe reaches for the shirt but Scaramouche proceeds to keep it away from the ginger’s grasp.  “What haven’t you told me about?”

The demon stares at him for a moment before groaning, running a hand through his hair.  “The witch involved with all of this, Dottore?  Well he needs a certain amount of human blood spilt to and he intends for the head detective to be the final offering.  It’s supposed to be symbolic.”

“So Heizou can be dead any minute.”

“Correct.”

“How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel better?” Scaramouche yells out, throwing the crumpled shirt onto the counter.  He holds his head, tears threatening to pour down his face.  “He could be dying right now and I can’t do anything about it.  If he dies…Kazuha will never forgive me.  I’ll never forgive myself .  I really care about him and if he-“

“Diluc’s already investigating it,” Childe says, immediately rushing to Scaramouche.  “He left this morning to try and find Heizou.  He’s not going to die, Scara.”

Scaramouche just stares at him, his eyes unblinking as he processes the information.  “I want to find him…”

“I can’t help you with that,” Childe says, sending him a pitying stare.  “My specialty is being a glorified demon bodyguard.  If you wanted help from someone, you’d need to find a demon who specializes in assassinating humans.”

“Do you know of any demons like that?”

Childe pauses for too long, already giving Scaramouche the answer he so desperately craves.  “I know of one…”

“Then point me to them!”

“No,” Childe says immediately, shaking his head.  “Dottore is a fucking psycho and the demon he has tailing him is no better.  He thinks he has Pantalone on his leash but trust me when I say this, out of the two of them, I would be more concerned about Pantalone.”

Scaramouche finds himself staring at nothing in particular, trying to gather his thoughts but ultimately being unable to.  “I’m going to bring Heizou back to Kazuha.”

Childe doesn’t say anything, instead standing so that he can continue folding the laundry.  “Do you want to stay for lunch?  I’m making spaghetti.”

Scaramouche can’t help but stare at Childe.  Here is a demon, supposedly a sworn enemy of Scaramouche, offering him lunch while simultaneously folding laundry.  It’s oddly domestic and definitely doesn’t fit any social norms that were drilled into Scaramouche’s mind since the beginning of his existence?  And Childe, while rather eccentric, is just oddly nice for a demon.  “How did you become a demon anyway?”  Scaramouche didn’t even mean to say it aloud…it just happened.

And Childe pauses, his soft smile dropping at that topic.  He sets a pair of jeans down, supporting himself with the counter.  “How much do you know about the process?”

“Not much, just that you have to make a deal with another one.”

“That’s actually pretty much it…just more painful,” Childe jokes, taking a seat next to Scaramouche on the floor.  “I’m Russian, did you know that?”

“No, I actually didn’t.”

Childe starts to mess with a ring in his finger, twisting it slightly just so that he has something to do.  “My parents died when I was a teenager.  My dad worked as a guard for some noble, got killed in the line of duty.  My mother…she studied witchcraft at the time and was found out after his death.  My village executed her not too long after.”  Every word he speaks sounds as if he is physically pushing the words out, completely unwilling to tell this story but at the same time giving this information freely.

“My older siblings had already started their lives and I had three younger siblings to take care of.” Childe smiles, seemingly remembering his siblings before his expression sours.  “It was the eighteenth century, and the Black Plague made it to my village.  I begged the kids to stay inside but Teucer met someone…”

Scaramouche really doesn’t know how to even act, but he does try to listen as Childe talks.  “Her name was Klee, her mom was a traveling physician.  She urged Teucer to come outside and he snuck out.  A few days later he started showing symptoms.  I begged every doctor I could to help him but I was told it was too late.  During that time, I was so proud of myself for keeping my mom’s book of spells.”

Childe laughs at himself, as if he had said the funniest joke known to man.  “I exchanged my soul to protect Teucer.  When I was turned…the demon I had a contract with didn’t trust I would keep out of touch, so I was banned from returning to the human realm for two hundred years, just so I would have less of a chance of finding a descendant...I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

Scaramouche puts a hand on Childe’s shoulder, causing the demon to snap out of his own thoughts.  Childe stares at him for a moment, as if searching his very soul to see if he can unearth anything.  But, when he can’t, Childe just lets out a breath as he continues to stare at Scaramouche.  “I’ll take you to see Albedo.”

And, while Scaramouche isn’t too sure who Albedo is, he can assume this is something good.

07<< >>09

masterlist

[machudson]

the more time goes on the more i realize that i .... really do not care at all for loganrine

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Car Repair Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 修车之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This was released on 13 August 2021 ]

Beneath the blue skies and white clouds, the meandering road stretches towards the mountaintop, and the roar of the engine is incessant.

A light-hearted melody flows slowly within the car. Since we’ve already heard this song many times, Gavin and I find ourselves humming along to the music softly. 

Gavin: Are you tired? I could drive next.

Sitting on the front passenger seat, Gavin turns his head to look at me.

MC: I’m not tired. I’m filled with energy right now~

I shake my head, gripping the steering wheel while my gaze focuses on the front.

Gavin and I had originally planned to go on a vacation in a neighbouring city today. However, sudden changes at work caused my vacation to shrink to half a day...

As such, Gavin suggested that we should change our plans to a drive, and that he’d take me to this mountain route he often drives on.

MC: I’ve already watched you driving down this road a couple of times. I’m more or less familiar with this route.

The corners of my lips curl upwards slightly, feeling the fresh breeze brushing my cheeks, along with the comforting and pleasant sensation it brings.

MC: I can now understand why you like going on a spin here. The feeling of rushing among the mountains feels really carefree.

Hearing this, Gavin’s lips hook into a smile.

Gavin: If you like it, we could come here often next time.

MC: Sure. But I’ll be the one to drive you, okay?

I speak with a teasing tone, and Gavin chuckles softly.

Gavin: Why not?

While we’re talking and laughing, a strange sound abruptly drifts to our ears. My brows furrow. Gavin also senses the problem.

Gavin: Let’s stop the car.

I nod, bringing the car to the side before stopping.

Gavin walks over to the front of the car, then opens the hood. Bits of sunlight filter through the leaves, casting a mix of light and shadows on his face.

MC: Should I call the insurance company?

Gavin: No need.

Gavin purses his lips slightly, then waves casually.

Gavin: The spark plug just needs to be replaced. This car’s pretty old, and it hasn’t been maintained much. It’s a good time to give it a thorough check.

MC: I see...

I glance at the long mountain road. Even if we were to head down the mountain now, there’s still a great distance between us and the city...

Gavin: It’s fine, there’s no need to worry.

As though seeing through my thoughts, he gives me a smile.

Gavin: There happens to be a shop I’m familiar with nearby. Since we’ve been driving for such a long time, we could head there for a short break too.

Gavin places his warm palm on the top of my head, rubbing it gently.

Gavin: In short, it isn’t a huge problem and we can continue driving. Let’s get in.

-

Halfway up this secluded mountain, Gavin stations the car outside a shop which looks pretty old. After getting off, what enters our vision is a tightly shut roll-up door.

Gavin: The boss might have headed out.

Gavin calls out the boss’ name several times, but doesn’t receive a response. Instead, the sound of barking drifts over.

MC: This is...

Gavin: It belongs to the boss.

Gavin takes out his phone and dials a number. At the same time, he strides towards a flowerpot at the side, retrieving a key from underneath.

Gavin: I’ve told the boss about our situation. He says we could head into the shop to repair the car ourselves.

MC: Ourselves?

I mumble in slight confusion, watching as Gavin lifts the roll-up door.

Before I can get a clear glimpse of the shop’s interior, a figure leaps out.

??: Woof woof!

A brown puppy circles around Gavin excitedly, nuzzling against him affectionately.

Gavin (voice clip here): Long time no see, Bean Bun.

Gavin squats down, patting its head. Then, he points at me.

Gavin: This is Big Sis MC. Say hello to her.

MC: Nice to meet you, Bean Bun~

I bend down. When Bean Bun sees me, the affectionate energy disappears instantly, and it hides behind Gavin timidly.

MC: ...I’m feeling a sense of déjà vu. Why are these dogs only close to you?

I pout, my tone laced with envy. Gavin chuckles softly.

Gavin: It’s just a little afraid of strangers. Once it familiarises itself with you, it’d naturally stick to you.

Watching as Gavin carries the puppy up with ease, I can’t help but ask curiously.

MC: Do you come here often?

Gavin: I guess so. I often go on drives on the mountain, and got to know the boss here. I’d drop by occasionally to modify cars with him.

Gavin places Bean Bun down, then gives me a slight smile.

Gavin: That’s why I’m more familiar with this puppy.

After saying this, he gets up and drives the car into the shop. I scan my surroundings in curiosity.

All of a sudden, a few photographs on the horizontally striped wall draw my attention-

The photographs feature customers of the shop with their beloved cars. Stepping closer, I find one figure particularly familiar...

MC: !

MC: Gavin, your photo is here too!

Pleasantly surprised, I point at that photograph. The Gavin in the photograph is even more youthful than he is right now. He’s leaning against the car, his amber eyes filled with unruliness.

This isn’t the only photograph. Next to it, there are several photographs of Gavin checking or fixing cars. However, they appear to be candid shots.

There are occasionally photographs of him looking directly into the camera. His brows are always furrowed slightly, reluctance written all over his face.

Thinking of the reasons why he was forced to have such photos taken, I find myself bursting into laughter.

Gavin: Cough...

An unnatural cough drifts to my ears softly. Without realising it, Gavin has come over to stand behind me.

Gavin: I once learnt how to repair cars from this boss.

He follows my line of sight, sweeping a glance at the photographs while explaining.

Gavin: But he’s very strange. He didn’t ask for fees, but just wanted to take some photographs of me to stick on the wall of the shop... he said that his business would be better this way.

Hearing this, the smile on my face grows even wider.

MC: Looks like this boss has pretty good taste. He knows that he can’t let this dashing “model” slip by~ If only I had such photographs of you...

I say this enviously while scrutinising the photographs on the wall. Gavin stares at the photographs of the youthful version of himself, and seems to understand my words differently.

Gavin: “Such” photographs?

MC: Mm!

Gavin: You could take a few photos later.

In a nonchalant manner, Gavin shifts to stand in front of me, and just so happens to block my line of sight.

Gavin: Stop looking. My skills from back then are far different from what they’re like now.

He arches his brows slightly, taking my hand in his.

While looking at the person in front of me, I find myself laughing aloud. A sudden realisation strikes me.

MC: Wait. You mentioned “car repair skills”... So other than motorcycles, you can repair cars too?

My eyes widen in astonishment.

In these photographs, Gavin is always driving a car. Even though I already knew that he can modify and repair motorcycles, I never thought that four-wheeled vehicles were an easy feat for him too.

Probably due to my exaggerated expression and tone, Gavin chuckles.

Gavin: Why are you so surprised? I had an interest in it, so I tried learning a little. It isn’t anything serious. Although cars and motorcycles are two different types of vehicles, the principles behind repairing them are more or less the same.

Gavin says this calmly while retrieving spare parts for the replacement from a cupboard at the side. I support my chin with a hand, eyes focused on him.

MC: You seem to know everything.

Gavin: That’s an exaggeration. It’s just a hobby.

With a faint smile, he walks towards the car while carrying the tools. When he walks past me, he taps on my cap gently.

Gavin: It won’t take long. It’d be fixed really soon. You can sit at the side and take a break for now.

After saying this, Gavin rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his contoured arm as he uses the tools seriously.

I watch on fixedly, realising that I rarely see this version of him. As such, I smile while shaking my head, moving a chair over and sitting down next to him.

MC: I just want to stay here. This is the first time I’m watching you repair a car for real. I want to protect this best observation spot~

Gavin chuckles softly, and doesn’t insist otherwise.

In the next second, something seems to occur to him. He stops in the midst of opening the hood of the car, then casts a glance at me.

MC: Hm? What’s wrong?

The corners of his lips hook upwards slightly, a gentle light overflowing in his eyes.

Gavin: Erm, MC. Could you help me out?

Hearing Gavin’s suggestion, I nod hurriedly.

MC: Of course I can. How can I help?

Gavin tilts his head crookedly and ponders over this.

Gavin: Could you hand me tools?

MC: Only handing you tools...?

Seeing that I’m slightly disappointed in this task which doesn’t require much skill, Gavin smiles as he grabs a clean apron from the rack and ties it on me.

Gavin: It’s inevitable to get grease on you when repairing cars. You’re dressed really nicely today, so don’t get yourself dirty.

The sudden closeness in proximity causes me to soften my breathing. I cooperate by lifting my hands, then sneak a peek at Gavin from my peripheral vision.

His eyes are lowered, and his expression is serious as he ties the ribbon of the apron into a knot. His warm breaths gently brush against my ear.

I blink and nod, my voice turning soft.

MC: Understood. In that case, I’ll be Officer Gavin’s little assistant today~

I say this with anticipation, and very soon grow accustomed to this new role.

While Gavin changes into his work clothes, I purchase two bottles of iced water from a nearby stall. After returning, the both of us take out the necessary spare parts and tools from a work cabinet.

Just as everything is going smoothly, a crisp sound drifts from the side, as though something has fallen to the ground.

Twisting our heads to look, we realise that Bean Bun, who had been drinking water obediently at the side earlier, has moved over to the car, pawing at the tools on the floor.

Gavin: A spare part probably fell underneath the car.

As though punishing it, Gavin rubs Bean Bun’s head. Then, he leans over to look below the car. He supports himself on the body of the car with one hand, attempting to reach for the spare part which rolled underneath the car.

Looking at his tall frame and the amount of effort he’s exerting, I can’t help but chuckle.

MC: I’ll do it.

Without waiting for Gavin’s response, I squat down, reaching out to feel underneath the car.

Gavin: ...do it slowly.

A large hand is lifted up, carefully protecting my head. 

After feeling around the darkness beneath the car, my fingertips suddenly bump into something icy cold. 

MC: Got it!

Seeing how happy I look, the corners of Gavin’s lips lift into a smile.

Gavin: Looks like having an ‘assistant’ around is much more convenient.

He takes the spare part from my hand.

Gavin: I’ll have to trouble you again later.

MC: Mm, leave it to me!

Gavin removes his cap. After using a hoisting jack to prop the car up, his movements are nimble as he burrows underneath the car.

In the meanwhile, I tidy up the tools that Bean Bun had messed up earlier. Occasionally, the crisp sound of clanking metal can be heard.

Bean Bun: Woof!

After a moment, I hear a sudden sound.

Turning my head over, I spot Bean Bun wagging its tail, running towards the car.

MC: Wait, Bean Bun!

Worried that it’d disturb Gavin while he’s repairing the car, I attempt to pick it up. However, Bean Bun manages to evade me nimbly again and again.

In the blink of an eye, it slips underneath the car. I hurriedly bend down, looking underneath.

MC: Bean Bun, come here...

My voice abruptly halts, and my line of sight is involuntarily drawn to the image before me-

Gavin is lying on the ground, his gaze focused as he makes replacements to the car.

His head is tilted upwards, revealing his sculpted lower jaw. A droplet of sweat slides off his face, plunging into the collar of his slightly open shirt.

Despite the grease and dirt on Gavin’s face, it does not minimise his dashing spirit at all.

Bean Bun: Woo...

Bean Bun’s bark returns me to my senses. It’s currently lying at the side, looking at Gavin a little pitifully. It’s as though it wants Gavin to play with it.

I wave at Bean Bun, pretending to look stern.

MC: Bean Bun, come here. I’ll give you delicious, delicious food!

Bean Bun: Woo woo...

Gavin: [laughs] It’s okay, he won’t disturb me.

Following the sound and looking over, I realise that Gavin had stopped his work at some point of time, and is currently looking at me with a shining gaze.

My face flushes, and I avert my eyes while using this opportunity to pick Bean Bun up, who is stuck to his side.

MC: Reporting to Officer Gavin - I’ve successfully kept this Little Rascal under control!

My dead seriousness tickles Gavin to laughter. He plays with Bean Bun while it’s in my arms.

Gavin: Mm, not bad. My assistant is indeed competent. 

After this, he continues with the work on hand, just that the smile at the corners of his lips curls at a greater angle than before.

Gavin: MC, stay here and talk to me.

MC: Mm, sure~

I blink, then retrieve a small electronic fan from my bag at the side. I point it towards Gavin, wanting him to feel a little more comfortable. 

Gavin: Come to think of it, do you know why I wanted to learn how to repair cars?

I look at him with curiosity, and Gavin continues.

Gavin: When driving, I’m the first person who can understand the overall situation of the car. To me, fixing the car myself is most convenient. Also, I can make detailed adjustments based on my own preferences. It takes a little more time, but the process is very interesting.

Gavin’s tone is gentle as he speaks, the corners of his lips lifting involuntarily.

Seeing the bright lights in his eyes, I feel a certain part of my heart being stirred.

MC: So that’s the reason why you like modifying and adding new coats of paint to vehicles? I know how that feels.

I nod while chuckling softly.

MC: Whenever I finished my handcrafts in the past, I’d draw all sorts of doodles on them... It was akin to leaving a mark belonging exclusively to me on the things that I liked.

I mumble to myself, not noticing that Gavin has paused in his movements. After a moment, he slides out smoothly from underneath the car.

Warm yellow sunlight lands on Gavin’s face, smoothening his sharp edges.

My heart stirs slightly. Supporting my hands on my kneecaps, I bend over to ask him a question.

MC: Are you done repairing it?

Beneath the mottled light, Gavin lifts his eyes to look at me, arching his brows.

Gavin: Not yet. There’s still the final step. I’ll need your help.

He pulls me over to him. Amid the hot and dry air in the surroundings, Gavin’s scent and the smell of engine oil blend together.

Gavin places a tool in my hand. Together, we screw the spare part I had picked up earlier.

Gavin: Done.

His scorching breaths land on the nape of my neck. I turn my head, watching as a large patch of sunlight spills on Gavin’s back.

Scattered dust floats in the air, reminiscent of mayflies as they land on the car, which has already been covered with a layer of dust.

The person in front of me has a bright and clear smile which is even more dazzling than sunlight. I blink gently, tugging on Gavin’s hand and swinging it to and fro.

MC: Gavin, there’s something else I might be able to help you with.

-

“Splash...”

I retrieve a towel from the pail, leaning over and meticulously wiping the car which has already been rinsed once.

In the next moment, Gavin stands behind me, grabbing my hand.

Gavin: It’s best to start from the roof of the car. That way, we wouldn’t have to wipe and wash it again. Like this.

MC: Mm...

I cooperate, standing on my tiptoes. Due to our difference in height, I find it a little strenuous.

Gavin: [laughs] Let me do it.

While saying this, Gavin takes the towel from my hand.

I nod and turn around. Only then do I realise that we’re only a finger away from each other.

Stray hairs on his forehead sweep against the tip of my nose, and I can see each one of his eyelashes distinctly.

Warmth climbs up my cheeks gradually. Just as I plan to slip out of this tiny space, my wrist is suddenly tugged on. 

MC: A-aren’t you washing the roof of the car...

Lifting my head, I see an imperceptible smile flashing past his eyes.

Gavin: Before washing it, I have to ask for a “reward” from my little assistant.

After saying this, he leans down, cupping a hand against my ear.

Then, he leaves a gentle kiss on my lips.

I hold my breath. The only thing I can feel is my slightly increased heart rate.

-

On this scorching summer afternoon, the whirring fan moves continuously, and the sunlight along the horizon turns from a dazzling gold into a warm yellow.

Without even realising it, we’ve already wiped off all the soap bubbles on the car, and the body of the car is as shiny as the surface of a mirror.

MC: Done! Is Officer Gavin satisfied with this little assistant’s performance?

I turn my head towards Gavin excitedly. When I see the white soap bubbles on his face, I laugh aloud.

Gavin: What is it?

Under Gavin’s confused gaze, I turn the sprinkler to the lowest level, then head over to Gavin.

MC: Don’t move.

I dab some water on my hand, wanting to brush off the soap bubbles on his face.

MC: Gavin, squat down a little.

Gavin: Mm, okay.

Gavin nods in understanding. Following my instructions, he bends down. In an instant, his sculpted face draws close to me.

Beneath the gem-like and dazzling sunlight, the beads of sweat on his skin reflect light, causing me to be slightly engrossed in the sight.

I brush off the soap bubbles on his face gently. A damp yet soft sensation drifts from my fingertips. Gavin’s eyelashes quiver slightly at the touch.

Gavin: ...are you done?

I turn my head, realising that the tips of Gavin’s ears have turned an unnatural red.

MC: ...nope. There’s still a little bit on your nose.

Suppressing my laughter, I continue caressing his outline, deliberately leaning in closer.

Gavin’s breathing seems to become heavier. His eyelashes quiver slightly, before his eyes open right in front of me.

Gavin: [breathing noises] ...

Our breaths mingle with the heat waves of midsummer, and our eyes reflect each other’s faces clearly.

After a short while, Gavin seems to react. His lips move, as though he’s about to say something. However, two crisp barks interrupt him.

Bean Bun: Woof! Woof!

Bean Bun, who has been neglected by us, releases unhappy sounds of protest. It hops up continuously, pawing against Gavin’s leg.

MC: Sorry sorry, we seem to keep forgetting you today.

Lowering my head, I pat Bean Bun’s head.

Gavin: [sighs] ...

As though not wanting my attention to continue getting diverted by the puppy, Gavin suddenly carries me in one swoop, placing me on the car as he looks directly at me.

Gavin: I haven’t answered your question from earlier.

MC: Huh?

Gavin leans in close. I have a clear view of the smile overflowing in his amber eyes...

Gavin: I’m very satisfied with the “little assistant’s” performance today.

The faint scent of sweat and the fragrance of soap meld into my breaths. Only after listening to him do I recall the question which was interrupted earlier.

Despite the smile surfacing on my face, I pretend to be dissatisfied while speaking.

MC: Is that all? Officer Gavin’s assessment seems a little superficial.

Gavin laughs. He lowers his head to nuzzle the tip of my nose while he continues.

Gavin: This is how satisfied I am.

After a long while, he draws away from me slightly. With an upward tilt of his lips, he reaches out to leave white soap bubbles on the tip of my nose.

Gavin: [laughs] ...there you go. Now, the both of us have soap bubbles on our faces.

Watching as the smile deepens on his lips, I’m in a daze for a few seconds. Then, I recall how I had toyed with him earlier.

MC: Gavin, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?

Gavin: Mm, this is a counterattack.

Gavin admits it with ease.

MC: I didn’t expect Officer Gavin to launch such a childish counterattack.

I can’t help but laugh. Gavin looks at me, happy warmth reflecting in his clean and clear eyes.

He lowers his head, leaning his forehead against mine affectionately.

Gavin: MC, what you said earlier was very accurate. When there’s something I like, I’d want to leave my exclusive mark on it.

With his gaze, Gavin traces the contours of my face. Along with the warm breeze, his tender words land in my ears clearly.

Gavin: Which is why, over here...

He tilts my chin upwards gently, his voice softening.

Gavin: Let me leave a mark.

The scent belonging exclusively to Gavin wafts over. A soft sensation seals my lips shut.

MC: Mm...

Without giving me any time to react, Gavin rolls my breaths in between my lips and teeth in an overbearing manner.

The sound of disordered breaths dissipate at my ears. I support myself weakly on Gavin’s arms, feeling as though the temperature of my surroundings is rising.

After an unknown period of time, Gavin releases his hold on me. His arms remain tightly wrapped around my waist.

I pant slightly, allowing my breathing to regain some composure. As though I’m unwilling to admit defeat, I lean over towards him, giving him a light peck on his chin.

MC: ...Gavin, me too.

I stare at Gavin, my fingers caressing his outline before sliding down slowly, stopping at his chest.

MC: On you and your heart... I want to leave even more marks belonging exclusively to me.

The light in Gavin’s eyes stir for a moment. Then, he brushes aside the hairs on my face, pressing his lips to my forehead.

Gavin: MC.

I hear him calling my name.

Gavin: Actually, you already did that since a very long time ago. You did it effortlessly.

Reminiscent of a gust of summer breeze, his voice brushes my heart, filling it with a sweet emotion.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the mingling of our interlaced breaths as they melt into the rapidly increasing temperature of the surroundings...

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle from Officer Gavin!

Gavin: Sure. MC’s private lessons will begin next week.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

-

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: Can we drive down different routes next time?

Gavin: Sure. Until you have your heart’s content.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

-

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: Sparky: I’ve fallen out of favour.jpg

Gavin: It’s okay, I’ll coax it when we get back.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

💧 Phone calls: First l Second

💧 Translated comic based on this date: here

💧 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Welcome, Father...

"Tell us, demon scum." The male agent grabbed the light from the female agent, shoving it in his face, "Who do you work for? Satan?"

"How did you get to our world from the afterlife?"

"Why are youse killing humans?"

"When did you show up here?"

The damned agents finally stoped passing the lights about, giving him a moment to adjust to the situation.

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, bitch." He snapped at the humans, "First of all, we just woke up from a very nasty shock and I'm still feeling fuckin' woozy, so I'm gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffees in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch." Looking over his shoulder, he asked his employee, "Mox?"

Raising his nose, Moxxie began, "I'll have a Neopolitan cappuccino, more cappu than cino, make sure it's got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise, and make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup they always put "Foxy" or "Roxy", I hate that."

"If you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blond shots Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then, add the coffee after, then-"

"Enough!" The male agent snapped, "We aren't getting youse coffee!"

"Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox." He told him proudly, "Congrats!"

"If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty hell beasts!" The female agent failed to sound threatening.

"When you say "tortured", do you mean physical or psychological?" Moxxie asked in his typical know-it-all tone, "Physical seems counterproductive; we would likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you have no way of knowing what was true." He spouted at the humans.

"Or we might like it too much." He but in, "And then you got a whole new thing to deal with."

The male agent leaned down, raising a bore "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you're stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy Likey Dummy!" Blitzø taunted the agent.

"Good one sir, Daddy likey-" Moxxie sputtered, squirming in his chair.

"You better stop laughin' at us." The female agent threatened.

"Yeah! You're the ones at our mercy!" The male agent yelled at him, grabbing his collar

"It's hard to resist, I'm really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far, you've had us tied up here for what, hours?" Mox cut in, "And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are!" Moxxie mocked the agents like the nerd he was.

"What are you?" The female agent asked, a curious tone coming to the females voice.

"I'm a Virgo." Moxxie told her, smugness dripping from his voice.

Both Imps burst into laughter, the agents only getting more frustrated.

Just as the male agent was gonna snap at them, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

An unnatural amount 9f light poured into the room, blinding them all for a brief moment. Once there eyes adjust, they found a silhouette standing in the doorway.

They were dressed in black, looking up a distinct shine came from his eyes, the figure wearing glasses.

Walking into the room, the figure spoke, "The question isn't what they are? The question is why there here?" He spoke cryptically.

Stepping closer the male agent came to meet the stranger halfway, "Who da Hell ah' you and how'd you get in here?" The male agent demanded.

Raising his gaze the stranger wore a smile.

The agent noticeably reacted. Stumbling back "F-f-f-father Cain... W-what are you's doin here?" He sputtered.

This 'father' just smile at him, "My associates informed me you acquired two new specimens." He looked at him, "I've come to process them." He spoke menacingly.

Father cain looked over the agents shoulder, gazing at him and Moxxie. "Excellent job My child. I always knew my faith was well placed." The father told the agent, patting his shoulder.

The agent seemed taken aback, "Th-thank you Sir." He spoke, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Father Cain?" The female agent asked, walking up to 'father' Cain. "Last I heard you were down at some beach on Spring break."

Smiling at the pair, father cain raised a finger, "Ive no time for such hedonistic pleasures. Not while the Lords work is to be done" He said happily.

"Now" He began cheerfully "I need a table if I am to do my work." He spoke firmly, raising a medium sized doctors bag, that seemed to appear from nowhere.

The male agent snapped to attention, quickly running about before rushing into the back room.

Walking forwards, Father Cain removed his glasses, staring down at him. "My, my, my, they certainly did a good job. Quite a pair of specimens you have here." He spoke to himself.

Raising a brow, Blitzø wore a little grin. "Oh yeah? You should see my junk, now thats a specimen." He spoke in his usual cocky tone.

'Father' Cain just smiled, slowly walking around to Moxxie inspecting him as well. "And unharmed, very impressive." The 'Father' told the female agent.

A moment later, the male agent returned, awkwardly dragging in a large wooden table. Dropping it down, he gave a few deep puffs, "There ya go 'Fatha', will this do?"

'Father' Cain smiled told him, gratefully telling him "That will do perfectly, thank you my child."

Walking over, the 'Father' placed his bag down before opening it and pulling out a myriad of odd and strange objects.

There was a series of shiny items and tools. Although a small wooden case caught his attention, the Imp couldn't help but think it didn't belong.

"Hey, uh, you guys seem pretty chummy and we'd hate to be a third wheel, so we'd be happy to leave you to it." He cut in smugly, hoping to get a rise from one of them.

And that he did, the male agent trying to snap at him, only to be tempered by this 'Father' Cain

Calming down, the male agent asked, "What did you mean, when you came in Sit. That it's not "What they are, it's why there here?'"

Smiling, Father Cain patted his shoulder, "I'm glad you caught that, I always knew you were sharp."

He smoke warmly, "I said that because, simply put. I know what they are. They are Imps." He said it simply.

That actually surprised him, even Moxxie reacted, releasing the slightest gasp.

Looking over the father just had a eerie smile, clearly happy with there reaction.

Both agents looked confused, "Imps?" They asked each other.

The father released a deep sigh, "Yes, Imps. Imps are the very lowest of the low in hell, as well as the lowest of the Hellbornes, or Hellspawn, I can never seem to remember which is the proper term."

Walking over, Father Cain placed a finger under his chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. "Your responsible for the death of a two hundred and sixty three humans." He told him coldly.

"Yeah, but I wanna know is why?" The female agent asked, "If they were just killing humans for shits and giggles, why not just kill wherever and whenever?" She asked.

Nodding his head, "Because..." Father Cain stood up, "They do serve a higher demon, but not Satan."

Standing up, the 'Father' walked to his bag, pulling a yellow folder out. "They've killed hundreds, and the only thing that connects them...? Death."

There was another pause, before he spoke again, "But not there deaths. Each person they've killed has had someone directly related to there lives die in the past decade."

Walking over to the Imps, the 'Father' showed them a series of pictures. Blitzø recognised them... they were targets they'd killed.

"There not killing them for a demon lord, there killing them for other human souls. I imagine with a the ability to travel to the human world, you've turned revenge into a buisness." He said simply, tossing the pictures to the side.

Crouching down, the 'Father' stared at him coldly before asking "Who's book did you use to get here, Demon?"

Blitzø stared back at him, the Imp doing his best to keep calm. But he could tell this human was clearly more dangerous than the other two idiot 'demon hunters'.

Standing up, 'Father' Cain told the other agents coldly, "Leave us. Remove any cameras. I dont want any sort of witness."

"What?" The female agent asked aghast, "We caught these 'Imps' there our score and we'll be interrogating them." She snapped at the 'Father', only for the the father to calmly stare at her.

Before he could speak, the male agent grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her out of the room he spoke hastily "P-please forgive her, Sir. She doesn't fully understand the importance of your work."

The female agent put a fight, but was quickly pulled out of the room, slamming it behind him.

Now with just the three of them, 'Father' Cain removed his glasses before placing them on the table.

Stretching his neck, he removed the white collar piece at the front of his shirt, placing it in his coat pocket.

"Now" he began coldly "shall we begin the fun?"

Turning around, Blitzø decided now was a good time to speak up. "Fun, aye? What kinda fun we talkin. Shots, blow, maybe a good old fashioned threesome?" He asked, hoping to get under this 'Father' Cain's skin.

He was surprised, however, when the 'Father' just laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Your tricks won't work on me demon. I'm used to your tricks by now." He spoke happily, grabbing a small gun like object. Placing that down, he inspected a series of bottles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Blitzø spoke up. "You clearly know more us then those dumbass agent dickwads did, so... what's your game?" He asked, trying to be serious.

The human stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, he spoke up, "I know much about you. For instance, your the other Imps boss, hence he calls you Sir." He spoke coyly, still inspecting the myriad of items he'd brought.

"I also know you've killed people on three different continants, although I wonder how many you came up to kill specifically and how many were collateral." He spoke again.

Turning around he held a small bottle, walking forwards he leaned over Blitzø "I also know you can only get to the living world if your a succubus, a demon lord, or... you have a Grimoire."

Blitzø chuckled, "What is that some kinda fish?" He asked, trying to play dumb.

The 'Father' chuckled, shaking his head, "Besides how do you know I'm not a succubus, I can hold my own in the sack." He spoke smugly.

The 'Father' stared at him, an eerie smile crossing his lips.

"You want to know how i know what you are?" He asked coldly, cold eyes sending a shiver down his spine and not in the good way.

Before he could ask what I was, the father reach forwards, ripping a hole in his pants leg. "What the fuck?!" He yelled at him, "These are my good pants!"

Not minding him, the 'Father' removed a second bottle. "This" He showed him a small blue bottle, "Is poisen to Succubus." He said simply, opening the bottle and revealing an eye dropper, dropping two little droplets on his leg.

Nothing happened, the cool liquid sliding down and observing into his pant leg. Putting the bottle away He showed the original brown bottle, "This... is for Imps." He said simply.

Opening the bottle, it revealed another eye drop, holding it over his thigh, he dropped a single drop on his leg.

This time his whole body reacted, he pulled against his bindings as he released a blood curdling screech.

It felt like someone was jamming a molten hot poker into his thigh. It went on for minutes, the Imp whining in pain. "What the fuck do you want you sick fuck?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

A small smile crossed the 'Father's' lips before he stood up and told him "I want to show you something."

Walking over to the table, he grabbed that wooden case before bringing it over to the Imps.

Crouching down besides the both of them, he told the both of them "These are my most prized possessions." He spoke warmly, running his hand across the wooden case.

"What'cha got there? Ya dildo collection?" He tried to sound smug, though the Imp was still writhing in pain.

He heard moxxie tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, the smaller Imp still terrified by his boss's earlier reaction.

Opening the case, he revealed several colourful arrow heads, each one varying in size, shape and colour.

It took a long time, the imp looking over the arrow heads before he realised, 'Those aren't arrow heads... there demon tails.'

"Fuck..." Blitzø gasped, he heard Moxxie sputter out a similar cuss, just as scared behind him.

The 'Father' on the other hand, seemed quite proud, gently trailing his fingers across the tail heads.

"These are my life's work" He spoke calmly, "I've dedicated my life to hunting demons like you." He trailed his fingers across the tails, "Most of these are from Succubus. They can come and go from my world to yours the easiest, so most of the demons we find are Succubus."

He pointed to two crimson tail tips, "But these two... these two are special."

Leaning in, he spoke gently "These two... are from Imps." The revelation seemed to bring bile into the back of Blitzøs throat.

"Jesus..." moxxie said shakily, turning his head and throwing up.

Blitzø took a deep breath, doing his best not to throw up. Looking back at the human he found him holding up a tail head.

"This one" he told him, twirling it between his fingers, "I got at a little beach city. The city getting my attention after a giant demonic fish had popped up. Sound familiar." He asked with a smirk.

"Unfortunately most of them had used there demonic charm to escaped the police before I arrived... key word being, 'most'." He told him, turning his attention back on the tail head.

"I got this one from a succubus. She hid herself as a chubby little black woman. She played dumb, just like you, and much like you she was cocky and ignorant." Placing the tail tip into the container, he said coldly, "But now..."

He left the question open, clearly trying get in there heads. The problem being... it was working.

Standing up the human didn't speak for several long moments, before he placed the case on Blitzøs lap, gently telling him "Hold this"

Blitzø's whole body froze up, a deep sickness growing in his stomach as he felt the cool wooden case on his lap.

The human walked over to the mirror Blitzø only just noticed. The human stared at it for a long moment, the silence in the room becoming palpable.

Until the silence was dashed when the 'Father' smashed his arm through the mirror, before throwing his body back smashing the male agent through the mirror and slamming him into the wall.

Looking at his slumped form, 'Father Cain turned back to the now broken mirror, finding the terrified female agent standing there.

Releasing a deep sigh, the 'father' began climbing in through the now broken double sided mirror.

"It was your doing, wasn't it?" He asked, "I said I needed no witnesses, but you always did hold him back. What a waste of potential." The 'Father' told her, before grabbing her and dragging her through the window.

Bringing her to her knees, he grasped the sides of her head.

The woman desperately clawing at his arms. The female agent releasing a desperate cry for mercy as he began crushing her head.

Blood began trailing from her eyes and nose, crying out until her head splattered between his hands, sending a splatter of bone and brain matter across his face.

Dropping her now destroyed head, he realised it, the now sludge like head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Before the 'Father' flicked his hands, looked back at the Imps, "What the fuck are you?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

The human only smiled, walking over, he gently grabbed the wooden case before walking back over and placing it on the table.

Walking over to the now collapsed male agent, he placed his foot on the side of his head. "I... am alpha and Omega." He said coldly, staring him right in the eyes before crushing the other agents head beneath his foot.

Walking back to the table, he grabbed a red cloth, wiping his face before placing on his glasses he turned to the two Imps.

"Oh Satan... Oh, Satan please, please help me" Moxxie begged, clearly losing his shit. "Please just let me see Millie one last time, I don't want to die."

Before Blitzø could snap at his limp dick employee for showing weakness, the roof began to rumble, bit suddenly gave way, Millie falling through carrying a battle axe.

"MILLIE!!!" Moxxie practically cried, tears of joy beading in his eyes.

"MOX!" Millie cried back, rushing over and getting them out of ther bindings.

Just after that Loona broke through the door, Blitzø taking a moment to tell her how proud he was to see her in the field.

Now all free and together they turned to the 'Father', finding him still very much cool and collected, the sight sending a bone chilling shiver down his spine.

"Just in time" The human spoke, seemingly happy at the outcome "Its so good to see a family reunited."

"Now I imagine one of you have my Grimoire?" He asked inspecting his fingers. "Give it to me and I'll let you leave."

Now it was Blitzøs turn to chuckle, "Nah, I don't think so." He spoke cockily, reaching into his emergency pack for a gun.

The 'Father' just chuckled again, standing up straight he snapped his finger. And like it were choreographed, dozens of suit wearing humans burst into the room.

"Gentlemen!" He addressed them "These demonic scum have killed your commanders. And they shall do it again and again and again, until you send them back to hell." He told them, stepping into the back room.

The fight after that was one of the best Blitzø had ever had, although it would have been even better if he didn't have this injured leg.

Regardless, the whole thing was so bad ass and everyone was working together so well. He even got to see his Loony kick some ass.

Firing a missle, from his over sized launcher, he cleared what was left of the agents.

He'd though that was it, there weren't anybody left to stop them.

He was wrong.

The lights to switch to red, an alarm start blaring through the facility.

They all made for the door, only for a series of doors to slam in there face, locking them in the room.

His Loony tried desperately to read the book, but couldn't see anything in the crimson light that filled the room

It was then he heard a slow clapping, all of them turning to find the 'Father' giving them a condescending clap.

"Well done, Hellspawn, Well done. You've killed all the witnesses, depleted your ammunition and now I know you can't read the Grimoire in crimson light. Well done."

Standing before them, even outnumbered and unharmed, the 'Father' seemed to hold total control of the situation.

Before he could think of something any, all the air seemed to such out of the room, demonic whispers filling the room like shadows.

"You dare threaten my Impish little plaything~" the whispers spoke.

He knew this voice, but like his friends and family, he chose not to speak, too caught up in the moment.

Screens flew off the wall, avian footprints trailed across the floor. The bodies of the dead agents rose to there feet, eyes black as they began the intricate process of drawing some demonic symbol from there own blood.

Stepping back the 'Fther' looked about, before smiling, "Finally" He whispered, pulling out a flask and began chugging it.

Shadows seemed to slither like a million black snakes crawled across the floor, disappearing at the 'Fathers' feet.

There was a long pause before the human bent over and violently projectile vomited, throwing up what seemed like gallons of black liquid from his mouth.

The vomiting stopped, the human standing back up.

The back liquid slowly pulled itself to gathering, slowly morphing into a figure.

The black tar slowly formed into feathers, limbs and fingers, a set of crimson eyes appearing in the black goo.

The figure appeared to be Stolas. But this was not the elegant demon lord of hell.

This being was a wretched, wounded animal, covered in filth.

The 'Father' just wiped his mouth, that cold gaze returning to his eyes. Stepping forwards he grabbed Stolas by the filthy collar, staring him down.

The owl demon was a sputtering mess, coughing up black liquids as he tried to breathproperly.

The owl looked up at him.

And for the very first time in wjat was likely a millennia of existence, Stolas looked Terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Grabbing at the arms of the human, the Prince of Hell sputtered out, "W-what are you?"

The human stopped, looking down at the owl, leaning down and whispered, "I am the beginning... and i am the end..."

The owl just stared up at him in horror, the humans hand coming to wrap around his throat, the demon feebly attempting to break free from his grasp.

There was a long moment where the only sound in the room was the prince's pitiful wheezing, frail little cries coming from the owl as the life was squeezed out of him.

The sounds were seemingly corked by a wet smack ringing out.

Blitzø had taken one of the agents weapons, a large knife and had impaled the 'Human' through the lower stomach.

There was a long moment of silence, before the 'human' slowly turned to look at him with that same cold gaze.

Without releasing Stolas, he pulled his arm back and smacked Blitzø, sending him sliding back to his friends.

Reaching down, he grabbed the knife, yanking it out of his back without hesitation.

Nothing came from his wound, and when pulling the knife out, no blood stained it's blade.

With knife in hand, he released the owl, letting his pathetic form hit the ground, the owl desperately gasping for breath.

Leaning down, you grasped Stolas' wrist, the owl releasing a pathetic little gasp of pain, followed by a frail little whimper as the 'Human' slid the blade across his wrist.

But what came next left them all shocked.

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he pressed his mouth down before greedily suckling the foul blood straight from his veins.

He drank down the demons fowl blood, not making a sound cept the muscles of his throat contracting to push the fowl liquid down his throat.

The demons black blood flowed down his throat. Every demon in the room just watched, to shocked to think and to fearful to do anything as you had your way with the Prince.

After a few minutes of the 'Father' drinking the demons blood, he finally released the demons wrist. The owl quickly clutching his wrist to his chest as he desperately clawing to get away from the 'human'.

The 'Father' stood there, panting as a demons black blood stained his lips.

When he finally opened his eyes, they held a Unholy glint to them.

Wiping his lips he walked forwards, calmly packing what few items had survived the fighting into his bag before Putting on his glasses and placing the small white band into his shirt collar.

Walking past the now cowering demon Prince, he leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard, instantly the lights returned to normal.

Stepping before the group they awaited some sort of attack, or threat, what they got instead was a single phrase "Excuse me."

He said it so simply, each hellborne took a moment to make sure they'd heard correctly.

Each of them just stared for a moment before Millie spoke up, "What?"

The human raised a brow, lowering his glasses he asked again, this time his voice cold, threateningly cold, "Excuse me."

The demons awkwardly stepped to the side, giving him a clear path to walk.

Walking past them he gave them a slight nod, "Thank you."

The demons were all in shock, silently watching the 'human' walk away from them.

"That's it?" Blitzø asked before he could stop himself, quickly slamming his hands to his mouth.

The 'Father' stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, he smiled, "Kill you later." He told them playfully, lowering his glasses and giving them a wink.

He walked away, the eerie sound of his shoes on cold tile floors permanently burned into there memory.

Hey Hey, I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try something a bit different. I had the idea for this in my head since episode 6 came out and I just really like the idea of an unknown entity showing up with either motive or intentions clear to anyone.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I really wanna start writing more of my own original ideas, so expect more content in the future. Bye Bye.

[bakugohoex]

I’ve seen the Jean x reader in Marley, and it was really good, so can you do a levi x reader in marely as well pls🥺🥺🥺

“i always notice you, y/n”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: fluff, violence, kissing, language, season four spoilers

word count: 2700+

a/n: hopefully this shows up in the tags if it doesnt i dont know what imma do, but anyway hope you guys like it and enjoy this, this will be my last fic for this year, i hope you guys enjoy tonight and have a happy new year 

summary:  in which you and levi are undercover doing reconnaissance in marley, want turns to stalking different marleyans leads to feelings being brought out from the two of you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of Marleyans seemed to flow out through the streets, you had all separated from each other on arrival to Marley. Eren having wandered off himself and his arrival to Marley having shocked you all, making you all come to Marley yourself. Even after all these years with the new group of adults they were still the babies you remembered meeting with Levi.

You had been in Levi’s squad from the beginning, being his second in command so whilst the rest of your squad got massacred by the female titan you had been with Levi and Erwin. Levi wouldn’t admit it, but he was glad you had come with him that day, he was glad you didn’t die on the countless scouting expeditions that occurred.

The bustling of propaganda engulphed you, hearing Levi come through a door of where you were staying for this visit. To the outside world you and Levi were just a happy couple starting afresh in Marley, but you and him both knew how a downfall was evidently going to occur.

He chucked the newspaper on the bed that you both had been sharing, you had both learnt how to sleep beside each other without touching each other, the way you wouldn’t face each other when you fell asleep. A silence arising at night, you loved the man, of course you did but he loved being a scout more and you, you were always going to be his second in command and nothing more.

“More bullshit.” You mutter straightening out the dress, it was floral and disgusting to wear, you had been too a custom to the cream trousers and brown jacket that a dress felt unnatural. He wore a black suit and white shirt, the dress shoes looking even more older in the many years he had had it. He had disregarded his mother’s ascot many years ago, but you missed the look of it on him.

“You know what they’re like.” He spoke expressionless watching you put the necklace around your neck. “You ready for this hell.”

You nodded, his dull grey eyes skimmed up and down your body, the way the dress hugged your frame and made you look youthful and content. But he knew the truth, knew that behind those eyes of yours there was murder and deceit.

He watches you walk up to him putting your hand out, he grabs it without hesitance as you both walk down onto the streets. Hanje had told you both about the midday market where announcements were heard, you knew that a war was occurring with how Eren had easily been motivated to infiltrate Marley without your knowledge. He opened the door before you, the smell of chamomile hit your nose, the wind making your hair sweep in front of your face.

He saw you trying to get rid of the hair from your face, he doesn’t speak grabbing your hair and the elastic to keep your hair in place. He easily ties it, stray pieces framing your face, it was a shock that led to the red to brush across your cheeks and nose. “At least now you can see.”

“And I thought you just wanted to touch my hair.” You mock out.

He looks at you which makes you turn to not face him, “Your hairs nice.”

“Umm… thank you.” You felt your face redden even more, his gaze moving up and down your body again, you quickly spoke to leave this situation, “let’s go.”

He nodded before taking your hand again, you both walked past the Marleyans, you didn’t have the Eldian arm band making you look like them. But you really weren’t, the way you acted, walked it was something new and different. “This is the place Hanje said to go.”

You nod, looking to the floor, people barging past, clearly common courtesy was dead in this place. You stand with a crowd, all their faces meshed as if it was just you and Levi watching the one man speak.

“My Marleyan brothers and sisters, today marks the day our hero Helos saved us from the devils of the Eldians.” He continued spewing out bullshit, people cheering and happily listening along. The grip of your hand tightened around Levi’s.

“Stay calm Y/n.” Your name fell from his mouth with comfort, it was sweet and your whole demeanour changed.

“Yes sir.” You say, turning back to the fresh out of the cadet corps.

You remember meeting Levi on your first day in the survey corps, your fresh face and innocent eyes made everybody believe you were weak. You had been shouted at by one of the cadets who had trained with you, he knew you weren’t weak but was trying to impress the captains around him.

He went to grab your shirt, but with ease you kicked his stomach. He jolted backwards ready to throw the first punch, the captains not daring to make a move to see what was about to happen. You smirk sadistically, he went in for the punch, but you easily dodged and grabbed his arm putting pressure on it. He fell to the ground below you before you kicked him in his face making him fall to the ground.

A man twice the size of you, a man who had gotten 2nd spot had gotten defeated by you. The girl who had beat them all, the girl who achieved 1st easily. “Whose she?” Levi asked to Erwin who had come outside.

“That’s our new recruits, and our number one spot Y/n Y/l/n.” Hanje had instantly come over asking if you were some sort of god. You made friends with her quickly, but Levi had kept an eye on you after that moment. He knew as soon as he saw you kill three titans on your own that you were going to be in his squad, you would be his second in command.

You had grown closer to Levi over the years, he trusted you as much as he trusted Hanje, maybe even more. You heard his life story, talked to him about your problems and issues, your life and most of all. You both knew what the priorities were, and it was to kill titans. But here you were the years of loving a man who didn’t even glance at you twice.

The man kept speaking and rambling, Levi had lost concentration on the man. He looked at your facial features, the way your eyebrows knitted every time devil was brought up. Or how your y/e/c eyes had murder rushing through the pupils, he saw the years that had taken a toll on you. But all he could see was the girl who had broken the nose of a man twice her size. He smiled before looking down just as you looked at him.

His hair covered his smile and soft eyes he had just had for you, even after all these years you had stuck by him. You had been there through it all, every decision you had been with him to make. As long as you were alive then he knew you’d both win against the Marleyans who were the true enemies of the Eldians.

Loud roars made you both get out of your thoughts of each other, the speech had ended and you both had left. The whole point having been to listen in but instead you both had ignored it all. “Do you remember what it was about?” You question.

“I was thinking about other stuff.” He doesn’t continue not elaborating on the other stuff, most likely of a plan that he and Hanje would have to think up.

He takes you down an alleyway, the opposite direction of where you were staying, “are we not going back?”

He was in front dragging you along by the hand, he looked back to you, something different in his grey eyes. His mouth was almost in a smile as he continued to drag you along, in those second she had looked back to see you he had seen warmth.

“I overheard one of them say that another event was occurring.” Of course it was about the mission, you didn’t speak just following along.

The alley led way and you were in an open area; you saw the streets filled with merchants and businessmen. Noticing a tower you see it to be a watch tower, it looked beautiful, maybe there was some pretty stuff in this hell hole. Levi watched your eyes skim through ever intricate detail of the building. Seeing people go up and down it he took a note of where it was and how easily it would be to get inside after dark.

The event was another propaganda event, people cheered at the hatred of the Eldians, even throwing bottles of alcohol at some Marleyan children who had come back from war. You looked at them, they had something to them, one stared directly in your eyes. You dismisses the blond boy and his group of friends, listening to the speeches.

Hanje had told you and Levi to go to as many of these events as you could, just to hear the hatred. It felt like a stab in the neck listening to the many speeches, but both you and Levi had gotten distracted by each other.

Your soft fingers had been entangled in his own for hours now, your thumb occasionally rubbing up and down his finger. He hadn’t felt this type of love in years and it was coming from you, the only woman who could handle and stick by him.

You both were at the final event ready to hear the countless indoctrination to what felt like the one hundredth time today. You felt a wandering hand touch your other arm, it instantly made you flinch, making Levi look at you. He noticed the Marleyan man behind you, his hand moving closer and closer to your body.

You were at the back luckily if you started something nobody would notice. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go get a drink.”

His voice filled you with disgust, you were ready to knock him unconscious before you heard Levi speak, “she’s with me.” It was with an unamused tone and he didn’t give the man a second glance.

“What’s a pretty woman like you doing with a shortcake like him? I’ll show you what its like to be with a real man.” You gave the same look Levi had given, you had to give it to the man, the nickname was funny. You looked at Levi, waiting for a sign for you to kill the man.

“Let’s move this somewhere else.” Is all Levi said, taking your hand, the man followed stupidly. He took you to the alleyway, looking at you with no emotion.

“You want to give me and your girl some alone time.” You looked at disgust at how he was about to reach for your arm, just as he skimmed his touch against your bare skin. Levi stood between the two of you. “Move it.”

Levi didn’t speak, staying in the spot in front of you, “I said fucking move boy.”

“Let me do it.” You whined out knowing Levi was going to punch him.

Levi ignored your childish moan to have some action and instead punched him square in the nose. He really was humanity’s strongest solider, with that one punch the man was down. “He’s not dead, is he?” You question kicking the corpse.

“Come on, don’t touch it.” He says grabbing your hand, you oblige, rubbing circles around the bruises knuckles. He watched you bring comfort through the pain; the man had had such rough face that it felt like punching a titan.

He didn’t need to have punched him; he could have left you to do what you wanted. But he had touched you, he had tried to make a move on what was his. You may have not known it, but nobody touches what he owns. Nobody touches what was his.

The night had fallen, the stars dancing through the blues and blacks of the sky. You looked up seeing the beauty of the stars whilst Levi looked at you noticing the beauty that you had. You were about to walk in the direction of the street your accommodation was, but Levi stood still.

“Close your eyes.” You looked at him in confusion. “Just do it, you damn brat.”

You laughed at the word before closing your eyes, you felt his hand move to your shoulder and elbow. Directing you past the people, you could hear mumbling, but you trusted the man to not lead you into a wall or the river for that matter.

He let go feeling like it was your cue to open your eyes, he quickly put his hand around your face. He could feel your eyelashes brush against his palms, “I didn’t say you could open them.”

“Sorry Levi.” You mutter, he loved hearing the way you said his name, it was enchanting and almost seductive. He let go of your face, you missed his touch, as you stood with the wind blowing through you. You undid your hair tie letting your hair cascade onto you whilst you waited.

You heard something being broken almost like someone kicked it. He takes your hand whilst you keep a tight grip on and start walking you with him. Your hand brushed against the cold brick, Levi keeping a hold of you making sure you didn’t fall.

The air hit you again, it moved through your hair, Levi admired how beautiful you looked up in the air, the dark sky up for you both to see. “Can I open my eyes now?” You give a soft chuckle.

“Yeah.” He speaks, your eyes adjust to light coming from the moon.

Joy, happiness every emotion of love was felt through you, you turned to look around the watch tower you had been looking at a mere hours ago. “You noticed.” It was a whisper hesitant that he might have just liked it himself.

He leant against the cobble and brick, his gaze flicking between your face specially your eyes and to where you were looking. “I always notice you, Y/n.”

Your heart panged, he started to walk towards you, your back against the brick, the sky in your eyeline. “It’s amazing.” You whisper.

“You always did love the sky.” He mutters it, enforcing the idea that he had always paid attention to you. He knew everything about you even if you didn’t blatantly tell him.

“I…” You didn’t know what to say, instead trailing off, he had gotten closer to you, he undid the first couple of buttons to feel the air that blown through your hair.

You looked up to the sky, not meeting his ever-growing gaze, “look at me.”

“Yes sir.” The sir seemed ever more sexual than usual and you looked him dead in the eyes, his gaze flicking to your lips and eyes.

“Since the first day I met you, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” It was out of character for the emotionless captain, but your eyes had become soft at his confession.

“Re…really?”

He looks to meet your eyes directly, “I love you.”

It was the three words you needed to here to grab his hair, pulling him towards you. It was messy, lips smashing together, teeth to teeth, it was long awaited and needed. He grabbed your waist bringing you closer to his body, rubbing circles around your sides. A soft moan came from your mouth, it was heaven to his ears, you had imagined kissing Levi in every possible scenario. But this, this was something new and unexpected and here you were kissing the man who you had longed for.

The man who you had spent countless nights dreaming of the man who had saved you countless times. Who had held you in the air past the titans so you could leave the final blow.

His hair wrapped between your fingers, his tongue guiding your own. Soft moans and grunts coming from the tower, it was he start of something in a place that was filled with hell. But he had finally accepted that he didn’t just like you, he needed to protect you. Needed to make you know he loved you, make you know that after all these years the only person he had ever seen was you.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world

[kosmosguk]

Bloody Artistry (M) ~🥀

pairing: celeb! kim taehyung x journalist! reader; minor pairings: jungkook x reader, coworker jimin x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 8K

Summary: when the scrutiny of fame becomes too much, perfect kim taehyung finds his peace within a lavish bathroom located two blocks away from the nearest club, a corpse in the bed with him. the fans have never questioned his behavior, not when his company is much too good at cleaning up his mess to not have done it before, but when a reporter with too many questions threatens to break the peace he’s established, he finds himself in a tango with the devil that he can’t bring himself to want to break.

[Warnings: MURDER, death, literally Taehyung being a sick bastard 25/8 (but only in fiction), company corruption, violence, yandere themes, mentions of noncon smut (intoxication, mentions of being drugged, fingering), blackmail, obsession, stalking. EVERYTHING that happens in this fic is FICTION; plz don’t go busting nuts for serial killers]

A/N: Thank you to yoongissugarmommy for requesting this! Part 1 of a short series starring Taehyung. Was going to do smth similar to Lineage with him, but this has been staying in my drafts for too long (like i wrote most of this before I even wrote Lineage, which is why my writing for part of this is a bit different from my current one), and I feel like going a bit modern now to take a break from Lineage (taking a bit to write pt. 4 just because it’s the end of the main story). Thank you for 2.9k followers! We’re only less than 50 away from 3K which is so wild to think about; kisses and hugs to everyone who’s supported my work! 

“Today, in the studio, we have our nation’s golden boy, the first love of all of our viewers: Kim Taehyung. Everyone, please clap your hands for him!’’

The MC turned to grin at the audience as the audience cheered loudly; her glossy black hair swept down and framed her face delicately in perfect shiny strands. The lipstick that coated her unnaturally wide smile was a deep shade of red, stark against her pale white skin. Dressed in her primly pressed suit, she looked lovely, like a blooming rose, but as she turned to face the guest star, his presence seemed to easily outshine her own.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honor to have an interview here and have an opportunity to see all of my lovely fans,’’ Taehyung’s deep voice rang out as he smiled in his heart-swooning way, flashing pure-white teeth handsomely in a carefully maintained and practiced way that made all the fans, both in the studio and watching from beyond a screen, unable to resist letting out shrieks and screams.

“Now, Taehyung-ssi, with a record-breaking album that topped the charts as soon as it came out and a modelling gig that sells out magazines faster than before, how does it feel to have really made it? It must stress you out. Any tips on how to relax?’’

Taehyung leaned back slightly in his seat, his smile flashing coy for a brief second before settling into a rehearsed contemplative expression. He shrugged his shoulders, letting them drop out, as he made a soft hmm noise.

“How I relax? It’s not that big of a deal, really, but that’s an interesting question to ask, noona,’’ Taehyung widened his eyes slightly, looking ever so much like the golden boy persona he had stickered upon his reputation,’’ When I’m really, really stressed, I like to play with Tannie, my dog, and eats lots of yummy food that my mom sends to me when I get stressed. Also, my manager Namjoon is a good person to talk to when I’m really stressed; he always knows what to do and say.’’ Taehyung tapped the tip of his nose lightly, scrunching his face in an expression that made fans coo in adoration. “I also like to think of my fans and read all the letters they’ve sent me. I saved all of my letters from my beloved fans since my debut, and I like looking through them.’’

“Hey, Kim Namjoon, fucking hurry up,” Taehyung hissed into the cellphone pressed against his flawless cheek,” My shoes are going to get stained at this point. You know blood is a pain to properly get out of letter.’’

“Were you at least careful this time? We don’t want rumors getting out,” Namjoon’s voice crackled over the receiver, barely a hint of emotion in his voice. The beeping and honking of cars on his side of the phone call signaled the rush his manager was making towards his location.

Taehyung huffed in agitation, clicking his tongue sharply in annoyance as he skimmed his nails for any trace of dried blood. “Oh, come on, you think I really even care at this point? With the way the company takes care of everything, you’d think perfect ol’ me was…well perfect. But still, aren’t you guys way too good at this job? 7 girls and not even a peek from the public. Who else do you do this for, huh? Suga-sunbae? J-hope-sunbae?”

There was no reply. Taehyung threw his gaze over to the practically mangled body. Too bad, he thought to himself, she was really pretty this time. Red lipstick, silky black hair, wanted to become better acquainted with such a famous celebrity after her little interview, the whole fanatic spiel tied with a pretty bow of the title of an mc. She would’ve never thought that she’d go from being a bed-warmer to being so cold.

“I must be right then, huh? Suga-sunbae I can see, but J-Hope-sunbae…’’ Taehyung whistled lowly under his breath. “I thought you’d at least deny that. It’s the bright ones you gotta watch out for.’’

A dial noise was the only response. Did…Did this bastard hang up on him? Taehyung grimaced before three knocks rang on the door of the hotel suite, a signal from his asshole manager that Namjoon had finally arrived. Taehyung rolled back his shoulders, his joints crackling a little, and made sure all of his jewelry was perfectly back in place before he opened the door.

As Namjoon shuffled in with some of the staff members, Taehyung clasped his silver watch around his wrist with a soft click. He rolled his neck, trying to get the stiffness out of it, and exposed purple marks and bruises from the bites the now dead girl had given him when they had been fucking earlier.

Finally, his headache was gone.

You chugged down a cup of stale coffee and wiped the dribble of liquid that escaped the corner of your mouth as you clicked off some article about a newbie mc receiving slander after rumors of her making moves on a popular idol was exposed and disappearing to avoid the backlash. Squinting at your screen with dry eyes, you pursed your lips and snapped the laptop shut, pushing the device away from you in an agitated huff.

“Wbat’s got you in the gutters, huh? Let me guess…,’’ Park Jimin, your desk mate, rolled his chair over to your side, his glasses askew on his nose,” Ah, your favorite celebrity go into a dating scandal? Let me think, who was it that recently go into a scandal… Oh, is it that pretty boy from a new idol group?’’

You gave him the stink-eye, and your sigh this time was even louder.

“You’d think there’d be something more…interesting going with these celebrities that we could get our hands on. Too much money, lots of stress, yet no story that’ll really seize the audience by surprise, and don’t you dare say a dating scandal would do it. Boss’s been on my case for the whole week on writing an article to shock the audience and wants me to release a major headliner story in two weeks, or that asshole’ll fire me. Damn it, Kim Seokjin!” you hissed out before slamming your forehead onto the desk.

“Man, be careful with your volume; if he hears your tone, he’ll chew you out for another hour that you could be using to research. Boss Kim is picky like that with everyone because our company’s a small piece of seaweed in a system dominated by crustaceous predators.” Jimin poked you in the side jokingly, his plush lips spread in a wide smile that lit up his exhausted face. “Just think really hard; use that big brain of yours and focus on a celebrity. Come on, no one’s perfect, even that one super famous idol Kim Taehyung must have some flaws, so don’t sweat it.”

“That golden boy? Man, the whole nation’s pussy-whipped for him. He couldn’t possibly be anything bu—,’’ you sharply inhaled before pushing your seat back and rapidly swiveling to face Jimin,’’ Park. Fucking. Jimin. Oh my God, you’re a fucking genius! A whole career with not even a speck of dirt… Come on, even pure-faced idol Soyeon was caught with a scandal last month. There must be something on the nation’s golden boy!’’

Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise with your sudden outburst, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Be careful about the way you go when you try to fish out info on him. His company’s security isn’t something easy to get through, and not a single celeb from that company has gotten into a single scandal. No reporters been able to get any dirt from them…”

“Which means that…there’s something sketchy happening. Jimin, Jimin, have I told you I’m in love with you?’’

You turned around quickly in your chair, spinning in glee. Jimin dropped his mouth open to sputter something, and his cheeks were tinging red, but you weren’t looking at or even listening to Jimin at hat point, having already cracked open your laptop to furiously type Kim Taehyung into Naver. This was it! Your big break! Your motivation sky-rocketed, and you felt the first rush of energy that wasn’t fueled by some caffeinated drink in a long while.

Two hours later, you were ready to throw up.

All of the results were sickeningly the same bullshit, as what was expected for someone as beloved by the nation as Kim Taehyung was. You couldn’t fathom the amount of fancams and magazine spreads of him posing on some brown leather sofa and fact pieces—hell, you even knew what kind of socks the man liked—that you had spent the past hours scrolling through.

Realizing that the office was nearly empty, and that the sky was dimming into a dark hue, you were about to shut down your laptop and call it a long fucking day when a tweet on someone’s SNS caught your eye.

@truth-teller: kim taehyung? nation’s golden boy? are you all really sure about that nonsense?

The tweet was spammed with angered replies, so many that the thread seemed to stretch on for at least a mile, but your interest was piqued. This was the first word of slander you had ever witnessed against Taehyung. You quickly pounded out a message to the account.

@name_01: hey, I saw your tweet about taehyung! Do you perhaps have any more information on him? I find him suspicious too.

You tapped send and waited with bated breath for a reply. Minutes crept by, and you were about to turn off your phone and head out of work when you noticed three dots pop up, dancing before disappearing.

@truth-teller: you fr? I had to suspend my acc because of all the spam I got. No one’s believed me on it, but I have proof

You chewed on your lip. What if this was a joke, and you were just wasting your time on some internet troll with too much time on their hands. It seemed like you were taking too long to reply because another message popped up.

@truth-teller: if you don’t believe me then that’s fine. I don’t have to waste my time

@name_01: WAIT! Sorry, it took me a second to comprehend this information… Please tell me more.

You were worried that the account wouldn’t reply anymore, and that you had ruined your opportunity before the three dots popped up again and another message was sent.

@truth-teller: ok, if you want to find out more let’s move to a better messaging platform, just in case my acc gets suspended by more fans. here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

It was a gamble to send some stranger on the internet your number, but at this point, you were too desperate to really give a damn. There was a story just out of the reach of your fingertips; you would be a fool to deny the carrot on a stick you were being provided.

@name-01: okay, I’ll message you.

Name: hey! Truth-teller right? This is me from the messages

JK: yeah that’s me. I prefer JK when I’m not on sns tho

Name: I’m (y/n). I don’t mean to sound like I’m hurrying you, but I want to hear what you have to say about Taehyung.

JK: lol r u a reporter or smth? Real bossy of you keke

You sucked in a breath. Should you reveal that?

Name: haha would it be bad if I said I was?

There was no response for the next 15 minutes. Exhaling a long sigh, you decided that you should at least maneuver your way home; the office had been cleared out completely during your conversation with this JK, and you couldn’t help the creeps that the emptiness gave you. If anything, the walk back to your place would give you some outlet for the nervous energy radiating throughout you. You were nearly at the door of your apartment when your phone vibrated in your pocket, signaling a message.

JK: just checking. Makes sense that you’re one though. It’d be nice if you could break this story out, but I hope you trust me enough after I tell you what I know

You clicked the door shut behind you, your eyebrows creased as you stared at your phone screen.

Name: don’t worry. I trust you!

You dropped your bag down onto the sofa before throwing your body onto the seat. The three dots under JK’s name popped up for several minutes before disappearing. In the place of the three dots, a long message had been typed out.

JK: I didn’t really think much of taehyung when I first heard about him since he’s the nation’s golden boy or whatever bs title they call him nowadays, but my sister’s friend was a big fan of him. she went out with my sister and they met him in some shady club in gangnam. my sister’s friend got to talk to him exclusively and my sister got separated from her and got a text from her friend saying that she had smth come up and she already went home. she tried to contact her friend the day after, but she got a text back saying that her friend wasn’t feeling well. my sister’s friend was “best friends’’ with her but she didn’t contact my sister again until a week later saying she got a job opportunity overseas and already was about to board on the plane because it was important she got there fast. my sister’s friend didn’t contact her again like she dropped off the face of the earth

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you tapped out a message back, your nails clicking against the screen.

Name: ?? Are you sure that isn’t a coincidence?

JK: yeah, I thought so too but it was rly sus that my sister’s friend who had known my sister for 12 years to suddenly go overseas for a job opportunity without telling her at all. and when my sister tried to get new contact info from her friend there was no reply. but I got curious and since I do some computer work for my job i wanted to see if I could track the ip address of her phone but there was nothing. her last previous ip was all the way back in gangnam and my sister’s friend lived in incheon. that was a red flag so I decided to go talk to the landlord at my sister’s friend’s old apartment and the landlord said he didn’t see her come back since before that night but woke up to a fully paid lease and the apartment cleared out 

You squinted your eyes at the screen, unable to properly process the information that this so-called JK had just given you. Chewing on your lip, you closed your eyes briefly before opening them back up and typing back a message.

Name: anything else? Sorry…just seems a bit far-fetched.

JK: think whatever then. I have to go to work now

Right when JK’s message popped up, another message pinged on your cell. You refused to let yourself ponder more on JK’s last message as you clicked on your friend’s text notification.

Platonic LOML <3: BAE, R U FREE TONIGHT? I’m lonely n want someone to come with me to this club— ik you’re not into clubs but pretty please

You were about to reply with a refusal when JK’s words came up to your mind again. You didn’t know why, but there was a sharp feeling in your gut that told you that you couldn’t miss this opportunity Call it silly intuition or some coincidental fabrication spurned by your mind, but that feeling persisted until you typed out a reply to your friend.

Name: okay fine. Come over in 30.

Taehyung swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the deep burgundy of the wine stain the glass a soft pink. His head was hurting again, and the new medication he had been taking for them on advice of the company didn’t work.

He scanned the dim, musty club, watching the pulsating lights cloak the dancing bodies in sallow shades of pale yellow. This club was a downgrade from his previous celebrity-exclusive club that he had gone to the previous week, but his manager had told him that if he really wanted peace, he should choose an area where no one would really know him.

Taehyung knew the real reason why his manager had insisted on this. Deaths of other celebrities were much harder to cover up after all.

Pity he actually followed his manager’s advice for once. The wine in here, despite the bougie price tag, was complete shit and provided him a slight buzz at best. And there was no one who really caught his eye out of the crowd of people. As he was about to get up from his seat and leave the club for somewhere with better—he contemplated going back to that celebrity club just to fuck with his company—pickings, he caught sight of someone entering the club.

You looked absolutely gorgeous, swathed in a black shift that you kept fighting to keep over your ass—and god, was it a plump ass too, the kind that made Taehyung’s cock hard in his tight black pants—with hair framing your face in a breathtaking way that showed glimpses of sparkling jewelry. Your friend, some chick with dyed green hair that Taehyung didn’t bother paying attention to, was clinging onto your arm, dragging you near the dance floor.

Taehyung knew.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His head seemed to clear from the mind-numbing throb it always had when he spent too much time without another victim to take his aggression out of. Feeling the cool metal of the blade he always had tucked near his body, Taehyung sat back down in his seat, a playful smile perking at the edges of his lips. Funny enough, the blood thirst that never seemed to properly leave him was gone from his mind, an occurrence that was as rare as the pills the company liked shoving down his throat actually working for once.

You maneuvered your way over to the bar, to him, your friend pouting as she noticed you leaving before melting away into the crowd of grinding bodies. Taehyung swore then and there that the attraction between you and him was absolutely magnetic, with the way you seemed to pull the other towards one another.

He watched as you ordered some pretty-colored martini, adorably scrunching your face as the burn of alcohol coated your tongue and hit the back of your throat with a singe.

Maybe, Taehyung though to himself as he propped his chin lazily on his palm, he should really start listening to his manager more often.

Your mind was in a haze, and you didn’t even notice the man next to you until he was nearly pressed to your side, barely leaving a gap of space between the two of you.

You glanced at him, your tipsy mind suddenly sobering up as you realized who the man sitting next to you was. Kim Taehyung? What the fuck was he doing here?

“Another drink for a pretty lady?” Taehyung’s teeth showed as he charmingly flashed an award-winning coquettish smile at you, his already extremely handsome features seeming to increase in beauty from the grin.

You remembered JK’s words and a chill ran up your spine. God, his messages didn’t seem so implausible now, did they? Goosebumps rose up on your skin, freezing you to the bar table. Were…Were you his next victim?

You swallowed dryly as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. The side of you that was a reckless journalist wanted to take a nosedive at the headliner just out of reach, but the rational side of you knew that leap of faith had a much bigger chance of you ending up disappearing off for a new job opportunity overseas, as Taehyung’s company would have it. You couldn’t write a good story if you were dead, after all.

“Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks,’’ your lips twitched slightly as you forced them into a hopefully convincing gentle smile, refusing his offer softly before moving your body casually a few inches away from him,” Having drinks bought by strangers isn’t really my thing.”

Your smile must’ve looked a hell of a lot less nervous than you actually felt and a lot more convincing too because Taehyung’s shoulders, which had previously been winded like he was a predator getting ready to pounce on prey, seemed to relax at your words.

There was a dark gleam in his eyes when he again invaded your personal space and pushed his body near yours. He leaned in and whispered softly into your ears, his voice clear despite the early 2010s hits blaring from the speakers by the dance floor.

“If you’re scared of strangers, why don’t we get to know each other a bit?’’

Your fake smile grew stiff on your face. You felt like you were going to hurl the convenience store meal of ramen that you had scarfed before coming to the club all over the bar and Taehyung’s expensive luxury bran clothes. You could feel a sense of dread in your bones, the kind a prey animal would feel as a predator focused its carnivorous attention on them.

You forced a fake laugh, trying to drive the message that you were just not interested to Taehyung as loud and clear as you could manage.

“No thanks; I have enough people I’m close to. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my friend alone for far too long on the dance floor.”

You pushed yourself off the bar table, flashing a strained polite smile before you headed over the dance floor, trying to keep your pace slow and steady instead of breaking out into the outright run you wanted to do.

Taehyung inhaled the linger scent of your perfume, a natural smell that sweetly layered itself over the damp musky air of the club. His eyes, even as you tried to focus on the pounding music and forget the fear embedded deeply in your gut, never seemed to leave your form. Even when you burrowed yourself deeply into the crowd away from his view, you could still feel it.

You found yourself painfully sober after that encounter, trying to look normal in front of your friend for the rest of the night that seemed to painstakingly drag on for eternity. Even when you had the short 2-minute walk from the cab you took to your front door, you didn’t stop looking over your shoulder, still feeling the chill that came with the thought of Taehyung’s gaze. When you got inside your home, the bubbling nausea in your stomach took control over you, and you ended up heaving your dinner down the toilet.

When you managed to somewhat pull yourself together, you typed out a quick message with practically shaking fingers to the only one you could think of in that moment would understand what you were feeling, You stared at your unsent message before hastily pressing send.Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Ping!

You barely managed to fall asleep that night, and your eyes painfully ached when you peeled your eyelids open, hurriedly grabbing your phone and turning it on to check your messages.

JK: what happened? Sry for late response. Job keeps me busy all night

Your fingers flew over the keyboard as you typed out your message, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration as you tried to relay the events of your night in hopefully comprehensible words.

Name: I went with my friend to some sketchy club idk what area at this point but I went to the bar and I felt someone come up to me ?? I turned and realized it was Taehyung, and he offered to buy me a drink but I declined. Makes me sick how I could’ve been his next victim, so I tried to leave and go back to where there was more ppl in the club, But I can’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes. There was something sickening in them, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

JK didn’t respond for a bit, and you exhaled a trembling breath when his message popped up.

JK: be careful. Im glad you managed to get away

Name: I’m scared. I didn’t know what to do, but hopefully I’ll never see him again once I get this scoop out.

JK: stay safe. Thx for telling me. Text me if anything else happens.

You let out a shaky breath before clicking your phone off, your nerves still rattled but slightly more calmed down after talking with JK. You had to get ready for work, but at this rate, you weren’t even sure how you would be able to get through the day. Maybe you should take a sick day? No, you couldn’t.

The elevator dinged closed behind you as you stepped out of it into the office. As you were about to take a seat at your desk, your boss rushed out of his office, relief, something he never showed to you, evident on his expression once he caught sight of you.

“(Y/n)! Come into my office; I have an important job for you,’’ your boss ushered you into his office without another word, practically pushing a baffled you into the room frantically,” You know the company that manages Kim Taehyung? They reached out and agreed to an exclusive one-on-one interview with Kim Taehyung only, and only, if you agreed to the interview.”

You stiffened, your body frozen as you tried to process the words your boss had just spoken. Your brain seemed to be running a marathon as you computed the words your boss said, and you could only meekly respond with a limp,” Why me? Can’t somebody…Can’t someone else take over? Boss…you know I’m not that experienced.”

Boss Kim barely paid any attention to your words as he rested a hand on your shoulder with a confident look on his face.

“Then, use this opportunity to get more experience. You want to show the world that you’re a journalist by getting a scoop? Then take this interview! You know the company never agrees to exclusive one-on-one interviews unless they’re all staged, but there wasn’t even talk of this being staged at all. If you can use this opportunity and get something big, won’t this be your biggest step towards a great journalist career?’’ your boss exclaimed,’’ If you back out, another chance like this won’t come again!”

As much of an asshole Boss Kim was sometimes, you could find the logic in his words. Besides, it must be a coincidence that Kim Taehyung wanted you specifically to give him an interview; maybe he wanted a newbie, so they wouldn’t have much experience trying to fish out personal details and twist his words.

That’s right. There was no way he even remembered what you looked like. You guys interacted for, what, a solid 2 minutes last night. And if you did this interview right, you could use it as a building block as evidence for the headliner you intended to release with what JK had told you.

You exhaled, nodding your head firmly.

“I will. I’ll take this interview.”

Boss Kim’s face brightened, making him look much more like the stereotypical handsome CEO character found in dramas. Since he always looked exhausted and stressed out, he always seemed more intimidating, an aura that seemed to scare off any thoughts about how gorgeous he actually was. You had to admit: your heart did flutter a bit at his face.

“Excellent! He’s waiting in the meeting room right now! You only need, what, six hours to prepare, right?”

Fuck, you take back that heart flutter. Boss Kim was an asshole.

“S-Sir,’’ you sputtered,” I can’t…’’

Before you even finished your words, Boss Kim was already ushering you back out of the office.

“I believe in you! You got this!”

He closed the door behind you. You swallowed back the mouthful of swears you wanted to spew before scrambling towards your desk.

You weren’t prepared, but you knew you would do anything for a scoop.

Exactly 6 hours and seventeen seconds later, you were primly seated in front of Kim Taehyung.

The seats were annoyingly too close, and you cursed Boss Kim in your heart, knowing that the reason why the chairs were placed in such an unprofessional manner was because Boss Kim wanted to create the perfect intimate setting for no cost. If you tried to extend your legs, you’d end up smacking them straight into Taehyung’s legs.  

You, although disgruntled, had to admit that there was a reason why so many major brands wanted him as their model. He was handsome under the shitty lighting of the musty club last night, but here, with his hair and makeup carefully done despite the fluorescent lighting of the room, he was every synonym of the word beautiful combined into one person.

Blond strands of his hair brushed his chiseled features, and his eyes, curved attractively and framed with delicate long wisps of eyelashes, was intensely focused on your face. He looked ever like a marble statue, carved with attention and detail to be the most perfect specimen artistry could ever create. But he wasn’t perfect; that was what you knew. And that would also be what would you get just one step ahead of him.

You swept a piece of hair and tucked it behind an ear as you scanned your hastily scribbled notes. His eyes clung to that movement, as if he was mesmerized by your every action, and you peeked a look through your lashes. Your eyes met, and you forced a stiff smile.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you rolled your shoulders back into a proper posture, gingerly extending a hand out for him to take,” Good morning. It’s an honor to be able to do an interview with you.”

The edges of his lips tilted upward, and there was a playful glint in his eyes as his previous fiercely predatory state melted into the façade he put up in front of the public. He reached out and took your hand, throwing you off guard as he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“Likewise, it’s an honor to have an interview with you, (Y/n).’’

Yuck, you were going to have to wash your hands later. Anyways, what kind of person even kissed the back of people’s hands nowadays? This was the 21st century for fuck’s sake. You somehow kept your grimace to yourself.

You nervously laughed as you practically yanked your hand back out of his grasp. You casually wiped the back of your hand on the fabric of your skirt, disguising the movement as simply brushing off dust. Taehyung’s eyes didn’t leave any of your movements, and he laughed a little as he realized just what you were doing.

Oh, you were so interesting. You weren’t like the rest of them, the fans that threw themselves at him adoringly; hell, he was sure you weren’t even a fan. He was entranced. When he was close to you, the headaches seemed to fade; he didn’t want to drown himself in another body when he was with you. He didn’t want to kill when he was with you.

You ignored his burning gaze, breezing through the beginning parts of the interview. Finally, you reached the part that you had been anxiously preparing for.

“So, I heard that you’re trying out a new actor role. As a model and an artist and now an actor, we have to admit that your talents are incredibly versatile, Kim Taehyung-ssi.’’ You continued speaking. “Could you tell us a little more about this role?’’

“You flatter me too much, (Y/n).’’ He purposefully had left any formalities to the wind in this interview, a move that made you want to grind your teeth. “Yes, I was offered one of the leading roles in a new thriller movie. I’ll be acting as one of the charismatic but complex characters. I hope to show you and all of my fans a new side to Kim Taehyung.”

“Ah, a new side,’’ you nodded lightly,” Your new role as a charismatic serial killer who targets his admirers is certainly what many would call…complex. How do you go about preparing for such a twisted role?”

“Hmm…,’’ Taehyung’s lips curled up menacingly for a brief moment before fading away into a breezy smile,’’ It’s quite difficult to immerse myself into a role in which I have limited experience in, so I like to read through the script and make a map of what the character is like. What motivates him; what makes him so…complex, as you called it. I pretend to be like the character. How do I make myself think like him? That’s the question I like to try to find an answer to.”

“Ah, this is simply my personal opinion, but to truly play the character requires some true life experience…Is it possible that you’ve ever done anything similar to what the character has done in real life?”

A pin seemed to drop in that very moment from the silence that crowded the room. Everyone in the room froze and stared at you, their glances less than pleasant. You bore it all as you stared intently into his eyes. Slip up, you prayed, do something that will make you slip up. There was not even a brief soft sound in the 10 seconds that it took for Taehyung to respond.

He was rigid, the smile plastered on his face barely fading. Come on, you begged, expose yourself just a bit.

“Your response is lagging for just a bit, Kim Taehyung-ssi. It makes you seem guilty just a bit, doesn’t it?’’

He snapped out of it right then and there.

“I was simply contemplating my response. Your impatience is something not so befitting of a formal interview. To answer your question, isn’t a role just a role at the end of the day? If you think about it, I’m not the only person to have played a role like this. Many actors and actresses have done so without any thought of relating it to their real life. After all, a role is simply an imaginary self.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt the gazes of other people around you burn into you.

You settled on a retreat. It was fine; this interview was just the first building block. You laughed lightly, throwing off the previous tense silence easily.

“Of course! We wouldn’t expect nothing but, right? We hope to see your talent truly shine through in this new role!’’

The tenseness in the room seemed to slip away right then, and the deathly gazes on you flitted away, like they were never there in the first place.

You let out a sigh as you left the interview room. God, that was terrifying, but you knew that you had to do what you had just previously done. What you had just done asserted the theory that you had. His company was hiding something about him, and that something was nothing less than downright horrific.

JK, you thought to yourself, I’m going to expose this story, just you wait.

“You weren’t just going to leave, huh?’’

You heard a familiar voice speak behind you, and you quickly spun around.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you forced out of your throat,’’ I believed you had already left.”

“I was going to, but I wanted to speak to you about the interview. The company rarely lets me do interviews, so it was really refreshing to have one done with you. We worked so well together, and I would like to thank you for the pleasant experience you had given me with dinner. You must be starving, right?’’

You had been starving earlier, but one word from Taehyung left your stomach churning in nausea.

“No!’’ your voice was a bit too loud, so you hastily softened it,’’ No, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to thank me.”

Taehyung took steps closer to you, and you unconsciously took a step back. Noticing your movements, he looked at you and flashed a grin that might’ve looked harmless to others but outright menacing to you.

“Are you scared of me?’’ his voice was almost like a purr. You fought back a shiver, straightening your back and looking him straight in the eyes.

“No,’’ you stabilized your voice, keeping a waver out of it,” Why would I be scared of you? You’re not some higher being than me just because you’re a celebrity. You’re human, after all. But, as you can see, I have work to do, so I will have to politely decline your offer.”

“You can have the rest of the day off.”

You spun around on your heels, your gaze colliding with Boss Kim’s. When did he arrive?

“Sir! Boss! No, if I skipped out on work, I’d be a burden to everyone. Besides, I—,’’ your voice was cut off by another voice.

“It’d be good to establish a positive relationship between your company and ours. Your boss would usually be the one to go to a dinner, but I believe he already has plans. Any work you were unable to fulfill today will be taken care of.”

The voice seemed to chill you to the bone. You turned to make eyes with a man. Was he…Taehyung’s manager? Although he was handsome, the kind of handsome that was comparable with Taehyung’s, something about him churned your stomach. While Taehyung was like a predator waiting to pounce on his prey, the man behind this voice was already sinking his teeth into the neck, wringing out the… You snapped out of your thoughts.

Snap out of it, you mentally scolded yourself.  

“How about it?’’ Taehyung’s manager coldly smiled, his tone like glaciers.

You opened your mouth to try to refute, but with the burning gaze from your boss, you could only dip your head in a bow, your voice low.

“Thank you for the offer. I accept.”

They couldn’t kill you, right? It’d be too obvious.

You followed them out, and when you passed by Boss Kim, you made a panicked glance at him. What greeted you made you halt briefly in your pace.

When Boss Kim made eye contact with you, he patted your shoulder in what should’ve been reassurance. His lips spread out in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t disappoint me, hmm?’’

His words, spoken low and steady, left a chill in your veins as you kept walking, and the sliding doors of the elevator dinged close behind you, effectively trapping you with Taehyung and his manager.

You somehow made it out of the elevator and through the tense car ride alive. Now, you were seated next to Taehyung himself in the private room of a restaurant. Smoke rose from the grill, briefly obscuring your view of his manager from across you.

You tried to think positively of the situation. If Taehyung was drunk, maybe he’d slip up, but…you made a furtive glance at his manager from across the grill, slightly jolting when your eyes collided with his own. The fear that nearly overcame you made you nauseous.

“A drink?”

Taehyung’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned to see him already raising his glass. You stiffly smiled, barely managing to keep the nervous twitch out of the curves of your lips.

“I don’t drink.”

“It’s impolite to decline a friendly offer. Come on, a toast to a wonderful…partnership.” Taehyung chuckled, raising his glass, as he leaned his chin onto the propped palm of his hand,” And we wouldn’t want a bad start to it.”

You were panicking by now, but you could imagine what Boss Kim would say if Taehyung’s company pulled out because of something so miniscule. You couldn’t afford to lose your job, not with the way you had fought tooth and nail to get your position; you wouldn’t last a month without your job or the meager protection it gave you.

You made your decision, a decision you would’ve done anything else but avoid, and tilted the glass up, clinking it against Taehyung’s glass. Turning away, you made it look like you were lightly sipping the drink, but you only allowed the liquid to slightly wet your lips. You set down the still-full glass and smiled pleasantly.

“I can only drink this much. Anymore, and I would experience terrible side effects.”

Taehyung didn’t seem even irked by your feeble attempt at pretending; instead, his eyes filled with amusement. He didn’t stop staring at you, and the threatening vibe of it caused you to unconsciously delve into your habit of gripping your glass of water and drinking it in an attempt to calm your nerves.

You placed the empty glass back down before resuming anxiously picking at your food. A pair of chopsticks—specifically Taehyung’s chopsticks—placed a piece of barbecued meat on your bowl of rice.

“Not feeling hungry? You need to eat. Skipping meals is bad for your health,’’ Taehyung beamed as he watched you carefully pick up the piece of meat and eat it. It would’ve been delicious any other time, but the churning in your gut made it taste like sand in your mouth. You dryly swallowed it.

“I’m heading to the restroom.”

You heard Taehyung’s manager speak in his flat tone, and you threw a skittish glance at him as he stood up and walked out of the private room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“Ah, now that that nuisance is out of the way, why don’t we talk more?’’ Taehyung’s tone was playful, and you flinched as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing against the outer shell of your ear.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you gritted the name through your teeth,” Please respect my personal space.”

He laughed lowly before he dropped a hand on your thigh. You were about to make a move to push him away, but your body suddenly felt tired, like you weren’t quite in control anymore.

“Come on, do what I say, and your little news company will do so much better. Your boss didn’t tell you this, but your company’s going bankrupt. One peep from me, and your company will rise in ranking, but I can only do that if I’m in a…happy mood.”

Taehyung pressed even closer to you, his nose against the curve of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply in. His hands moved from his side and he ripped open the buttons of your shirt, groping your bra-covered tits. You let out an incoherent mumble in response, trying to flimsily kick at him.

Where was the waiter? Why was his manager taking so long? They planned this!

Disgust and heat coiled in your gut, but you were too dizzy to move. Something…that bastard…Did he spike your water? You were too careless, fuck. Taehyung moved one hand to tilt your chin up before his lips met yours. Despite how sloppy of a kiss it was, you could tell he was experienced, practically tasting every inner crevice of your soft mouth with his tongue, and you should’ve continued to be revolted, but whatever pill in your system had you melting into his mouth.

Taehyung seemed to sense the turmoil and conflict in you and the soft give of your will, and that seemed to make him even braver. He slid a hand up your skirt, his touch hot even through the fabric of your stockings, and you let out a startled moan against his lips, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth. He pulled back, and you could barely see through the teary haze of your eyes. It had been too long since the last time you had a good fuck. You just wanted to be touched…wanted to be fucked so hard his cock would press against your womb.  

“I just want to see you let go a bit, baby,’’ there was the triumph of domination in his voice. The sober part of you wanted to rebel, wanted to push and scream and kick him away, but you weren’t sober, weren’t clear-minded. Your legs spread as if begging for more of his touch.

He ripped his fingers through your stocking, and the material easily gave way underneath his strength. You could feel the damp spot on your panties, growing as he rubbed his fingertips against your drooling pussy. You shivered slightly in delirious pleasure as his finger rolled over your throbbing clit.  

“Mmph!’’ you let out a sound as he pushed your soaked panties to the side and pushed his fingers deep into your pussy. You couldn’t object, not when your pussy was stretching with a spine-tingling ache around his fingers, and especially not when he begin to set a teasing pace. He pushed his fingers in, and you shut your eyes in shame as your moans grew louder.

Your toes curled as his movements grew faster, reaching deep into you, and you were so, so close. Oh my god you could feel…and you were cumming hard. Your walls shivered and twitched around his still moving fingers, and you murmured a dazed plea as he finally stilled and pulled his fingers out. You, still twitching from how hard you came earlier, were ashamed to see the way his fingers glistened with the remnants of your arousal and orgasm.

The sound of his pants being unclasped drew you out of your drugged state. No, he wasn’t going to…Come on, snap out of it, snap out of it.

He drew back closer again, and you sucked in a breath, trying to push through your daze. He leaned in. You managed to bring your arms up to the table, grabbing the nearest object that you could reach. Your trembling fingers closed around your nearly empty water glass, and you took it, raising it and smashing it as hard as you could over his head. Water, ice cubes, and glass shards struck as the glass broke. Taehyung, not expecting the blow, had a temporary moment of weakness, and you managed to push him off you.

You shoved yourself up onto shaky legs, wrapping the ripped blouse around your weakened body, and forced yourself into a run outside of the room. The hallway of the restaurant around the private rooms was empty, devoid of any person. You frantically looked over your shoulder, relieved that you didn’t see him coming after you. This was a public place, though it was late at night, and you knew Taehyung wouldn’t risk his perfect reputation. But still, you remembered his manager was still out there.

You couldn’t let them kill you…You had to survive! You broke into a blind run, ignoring the strange looks and the calls you got from the restaurant’s staff as you pushed out of the restaurant into the street. You kept running despite the dizziness of your mind, and you could barely see what was in front of you before…You crashed into someone, slamming into their body so hard that you were sent sprawling to the ground.

“Please…,’’ you choked out, your voice strangled, crying out a desperate plea as you grabbed onto their clothes,’’ Please help me.”

Your mind was dizzy, splotches of colors splattering your blurry vision. Your body had overexerted yourself, and you prayed that you wouldn’t end up a dead body on the news as your grip around the clothes went lip, and you collapsed into the road. Through the buzzing of your ears, you could hear a startled voice call out, feel a firm touch grab your shoulders and try to shake you awake. Some strange hope rose in you; maybe…maybe…?

You murmured desperately one last mumble, your words barely making sense, as you spiraled into unconsciousness.  

“JK…please help me.”

A/N: if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part, reply with a  ❤️. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment or a detailed review below <3

Next work will be a fic for Jungkook’s upcoming birthday. Poll will be released soon for what kind of plot it should have! 

[acapelladitty]

Riddlebat: Shibari (nsfw)

(Word count 2.4k. No major warnings apply)

“Arms behind you,” Edward demanded as he ran his hands along Bruce’s exposed shoulders, feeling the taut muscle rippling below his fingertips as the other man complied, “nice and tight. Are you ready to be tied up?”

“Sure.” Bruce answered, a subtle cockiness to his tone that made Edward’s eye twitch in irritation as he wrinkled his nose.

“Very confident, Brucie boy,” Edward muttered, stooping to pick up a length of rope from the floor as he quickly calculated the length he would need, “let’s see how that holds up when you’re trussed up like a turkey for me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His lips curling into a smirk, Bruce straightened his posture as he complied with Edward’s directions. Shifting his hands behind his body, he placed his palms together as he lay the edge of his pinkies against the muscle of his back.

Edward’s fingers were skilled as they wrapped the soft rope around Bruce’s elbows before allowing the length to trail down his forearms as he secured them together firmly. The rope wrapped around itself delicately as he knotted it in place periodically, ensuring that Bruce would be unable to move his arms for anything aside from pressing his fingers together.

“Normally I would leave these bindings a little looser,” he purred into Bruce’s ear as he secured the final knot across his wrists, “but I don’t trust you to not attempt to break free when I’m having my fun.”

“Normally?” Bruce craned his neck to the side, allowing Edward easier access to his neck as he questioned his words. For his troubles he was rewarded with a soft kiss just below his ear, the faintest hint of teeth making him sigh as he enjoyed the gentle touch.

“Query and Echo taught me these little tricks a long time ago,” explaining the origins of his craft, Edward continued to ghost his teeth across the lobes of Bruce’s ear as he spoke, admiring the shiver they created as they left gooseflesh in their wake, “because sometimes handcuffs and basic knots just don’t do the trick they need to.”

Testing the durability of his freshly constructed bondage, Edward pulled at the rope which held Bruce’s arms together in a reverse-prayer position and felt satisfied as it forced his elbows to rise an inch or two before dropping back down.

Moving to stand before his kneeling partner once again, Edward picked up a fresh piece of rope from the floor and tucked the end of it between his teeth. Lurid green and as soft as silk, it was a special purchase from a specialist creator, and it had proved to be worth every penny as he made a mental note to put in for a fresh order.

The subject before him deserved only the best of the best and his body was so broad with rippling muscle and taut definition that it inspired thoughts and designs beyond anything Edward had ever considered before.

Bruce’s gaze was heavy with lust and a slight grunt escaped his lips as Edward ran his hands over his scarred abdomen, taking care to trail his fingers across his defined pecs before his thumbs came to rest atop his rapidly hardening nipples. His slacks were tight against his groin as the blood rushed to his cock at the soft ministrations, trapped as it was, and he shuffled in place; unable to do much more due to his kneeling position and the restricted use of his arms.

Snaking his arms across the wide chest, Edward secured the rope around Bruce’s pecs, just below his armpits, and started his work. The rope moved fluidly between his dexterous fingers as he continued to knot the rope down Bruce’s chest and abdomen as the vigilante arched his back slightly to give him easier access. The pads of Edward’s fingertips took the time to explore the rough scarring which decorated Bruce’s torso with a borderline reverence which left both men panting slightly as Edward lost himself in the focus of perfecting his art.

Pausing to observe his work, Edward couldn’t help slipping his hand into his boxers; the fabric there bulging and barely concealing his hard length as a noticeable bead of pre-cum left a wet patch on the white fabric. Stroking himself leisurely for just a moment to alleviate some of the pressure, he mournfully drew his hand away as he knew that he would be getting his very soon and he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible.

The bright green rope against Bruce’s tanned skin was beautiful; even the white scarring which littered his body did little to tarnish the sight and, if anything, the loss of pigment only served to show up the true colour of the rope as it held Bruce in place.

A stunning gift which only he had earned the right to unwrap.

Possessive by nature, the sight of Bruce trussed up so expertly in his colour by his own hand was intoxicating and it created an almost cloying sensation in his chest even as his cock twitched with interest.

“Almost finished,” Edward announced, voice more strained that he would like as he picked up the final lengths of ropes which he planned to use, “then we’ll see about that smart mouth, Mr. Wayne.”

Edward placed his hands on Bruce’s slacks and adjusted his limbs into the correct position, gently enough to prevent him from falling over as he knew he would be unable to defend himself from the cold flooring with his hands. To help position him more easily, he quickly unzipped the slacks and pulled Bruce’s cock free; the hardness thick, full, and as tempting as ever as it jutted into the open space and bobbed against his stomach.

The temptation to run his hands along it was maddening but Edward had a job to do and that wouldn’t fit with his plans so he pointedly ignored the hard length as he continued with his rope work.

Wrapping the rope around the thick thighs below his grasp, Edward set about securing Bruce’s legs together as he kneeled in position. The rope held on to the rougher fabric of the slacks and Edward felt his tongue poking out from between his teeth as he concentrated. He was set on creating small diamond patterns between the ropes and it was difficult but not impossible.

“Do you know what they call this style? They call this-”

“Futomomo.” His pronunciation perfect, Bruce’s voice expertly washed over the word as he cut Edward off with his own knowledge.

Quirking a brow as he paused in his task, Edward narrowed his eyes at the interruption.

“You’re not the only one who needs a little extra help with restraints, Mr. Nygma.”

Feeling a flush of pink high on his cheeks at the implication, Edward cleared his throat and his hand reached up to run through Bruce’s scalp, mussing the dark hair there messily as he responded.

“Then maybe you’ll just have to show me what you think you know in one of our future meetings.”

“Maybe I will.” Bruce promised, eyes half-lidded as Edward secured the final knot on his legs and moved to stand between his thighs. His eyeline was now on par with Edward’s cock and he could see the clear tent of his length as it pressed against the fabric.

“I’m finished,” Edward announced, “and you look absolutely exquisite. So, are you ready to show some appreciation for my hard work?”

Edward’s tone was husky, his final word trailing off into a soft moan as he released himself from his boxers, his cock feeling heavy in his hand as he gave it some light relief, awaiting Bruce’s response.

“Yes.”

A simple reply but Edward wasn’t one to tempt fate as he pushed his cock towards Bruce’s accepting lips, the anticipation of his skilled mouth making his breath come in short pants as he steadied his footing.

For his part, Bruce slipped his tongue out to wet his lips as he dipped his head down to welcome the tip of Edward’s cock into his willing mouth. The taste was familiar, as was the neatly trimmed bush of fiery red hair which framed Edward’s cock and it never failed to bring him a little amusement as just how bright Edward’s pubic hair was. It was almost unnatural; however, he was quick to focus his mind to the task at hand as he hungrily went to work, his tongue tracing a nonsense shape across Edward’s bloated head before swallowing him past his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Bruce.” Edward groaned, his hands finding security amongst the many ropes which decorated Bruce’s chest as he resisted the urge to push himself further down his throat, “You’re killing me.”

Humming his approval at the comment, Bruce continued to swallow down another inch of Edward as he bobbed his head back and forth, building up a soft rhythm which he knew drove the other man wild. His own cock was almost painfully hard, but he focused on dragging Edward to where he needed to be; the soft grunts and groans of the genius spurring him on as he reduced his fantastic mind to its most base desires.

Above him, Edward was in raptures as the wet warmth of Bruce’s mouth sent shivers of pure arousal through his spine, making his toes curl against the floor as his fingers held a deathly grip of the bondage which he had secured Bruce within. His moaning was quick to dissolve into a high-pitched keen as Bruce pulled away from his cock long enough to lick a filthy line down his entire length before once again accepting him into his mouth.

It was too much and, as Bruce swallowed him further than before, his nose almost brushing against his patch of red pubic hair, Edward unleashed a guttural grunt as his grip pulled Bruce’s torso towards him. His cock buried deep within Bruce’s throat, he felt it jerk messily as his orgasm hit, and his release pumped its way down the accepting throat as Bruce swallowed it down without trouble.

Allowing Bruce’s throat to milk him for every drop, Edward shook his head violently to remove a small piece of red hair which had fallen from his coiffed style to hang down before his eyes. As soon as he finished, he pulled his softening cock free of Bruce’s throat, allowing the other man easy time to breathe as he gathered himself.

Knees feeling a touch wobbly due to the force of his orgasm, Edward skilfully dropped to the floor with some grace as he moved in for a quick kiss; tasting his own release along with the wonderfully familiar taste of Bruce as he devoured the other man for a long moment.

“Excellent work, detective.” He muttered into Bruce’s ear as he pulled away from his lips, “Now, let me show you what happens when you let me win.”

Tracing his hand leisurely down Bruce’s chest, Edward followed the pattern of his rope work until it reached the patch of dark pubic hair which lay just above his goal. Slipping to the side, he paused to squeeze roughly at the covered flesh of Bruce’s inner thighs as he greatly admired his own taste in design.

Taking pity as a low growl from Bruce alerted him to his growing impatience, Edward moved his hand back to Bruce’s groin and cupped his testicles for a moment, admiring the way in which the gentle touch made Bruce strain against his bonds almost imperceptibly. Allowing his fingers to trail upwards slowly, they danced a soft line across the hard length before he secured his fist around it in a gentle grip.

Pumping at Bruce’s cock for a moment as he moved his hand in a slow rhythm, it was clear the effect that the small movements were having on the bound vigilante as he released a long groan while his upper body arced slightly; his panting breath making his chest rise and fall in a hypnotic fashion as Edward pleasured him.

“Riddle me th-”

“Not now, Eddie.” Bruce grunted, his hips bucking into Edward’s hand despite their severely restricted movement, “Please.”

Acquiescing to the soft demand, Edward shrugged with a wicked smirk as he brought his second hand into play, using the tips of his fingers to rub at the sensitive skin of Bruce’s cockhead as he immediately started to writhe in place. With both hands busy, one jerking and one focused on Bruce’s most sensitive spot, that left Edward with little more to do than simply observe how beautiful Bruce was under his mercy.

His prideful veneer was unshakeable, but the faintest hints of weakness could be observed by those who knew what to look for; the bitten lip, the way in which he was desperately attempting to control his breathing, his hesitation to buck freely into his hand demanding more than he was currently being given.

Oh yes, the signs were there.

And Edward was willing to reward them.

His hand moved quickly along Bruce’s length and, as he felt his cock twitch dangerously, Edward dipped his head forward and captured Bruce’s lips in a filthy kiss. The cock within his hand jerked once more and Edward felt the warm spatter of its release across his fist and forearm as he continued to run his fist along the length; his lips expertly swallowing down each of Bruce’s moans as he bucked frantically into his hand.

With both hands still stimulating Bruce’s cock, Edward was determined to draw every inch of pleasure from the man that he could. The light moans and grunts were music to his ears and it wasn’t until he felt Bruce attempt to pull away from the now-uncomfortable stimulation that he took pity and released him fully.

Edward brought his fist to his mouth and his pink tongue flicked out playfully to taste the familiarity of Bruce’s release. Bruce was still panting in place, his legs perfectly spread and his chest and cock exposed for any further torments which Edward wished to inflict on them. However, as he observed the sight of Bruce before him, held in position by his skilled rope work and looking thoroughly sated by his orgasm, he couldn’t deny the swell of pride which matched the lust that swept through him.

A truly stunning gift.

One which he and he alone had earned the right to unwrap.

Full fic also on AO3

[infernal-fire]

Long Forgotten

I am choosing to not use warnings. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with themes of infidelity, angst, swearing and sexual innuendos. 

Summary: Your Steve isn’t yours anymore and you’re beginning to understand why. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairings: Steve x reader and a surprise appearance ;)

Disclaimer: this is set right after Endgame

A/N: this story was inspired by @nsfwsebbie’s fic please don’t take him (even though you can). it was so damn amazing. i thought of how the situation would go under different circumstances, and added a more strong willed reader into the mix  :)

i tried to proofread but im sort of posting in a rush so all mistakes are my own!

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Your head was nestled in the crook of Steve’s neck and his arms were cradling your tired form. Dried tears left your face feeling dry and your up do from the funeral was now tousled. Steve let out a heavy sigh and held you a little tighter. 

You could fall asleep if it weren’t for the looming stress of returning the stones so you decided to bide your time by focusing on the super soldier’s unnaturally slow heartbeat. 

“We should go, sweetheart. They’re waiting for me.” his voice broke the placid silence that had enveloped the room. 

You silently got off the bed and Steve’s hand nudged yours, stopping you from reaching the door. 

He slowly pulled you towards him and you met him halfway, face-to-face.

“I know things aren’t great right now. But we’ll get through this,” he spoke lowly as his large hands cupped your face. They felt rough against your supple skin, but his touch was as tender as ever.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. "I’ll come with you,” you offered.

“No,” he affirmed. His tone was firm yet a touch of softness was reserved in there somewhere, just for you.

“I love you Y/N. I’ll love you no matter what,” he said as he pulled your head into his chest and engulfed your body into his. 

//

You reached the new, mini version of the previously destroyed time travel contraption Tony made. Sam, Bucky and Professor Hulk were engaging in light conversation that clearly, none of them were interested in. You look up at Steve, who was as tense as ever, clutching your hand like a vice. He let go and glanced back at you before joining Sam. 

You knew deep down that Steve would never be the same anymore. Hell, after the Battle of Wakanda, Steve almost ended the relationship because the Avengers lost.

But the Avengers won this time, and things should feel different. So why did it feel like he was leaving forever? 

You recalled the very short conversation you had with him about Tony’s snap.

 “I should have snapped,” he sobbed. 

“You’ve always been selfless your whole life. This was Tony’s time to be selfless, and you don’t get to take that away from him.” You hugged him and cried with him. 

There was nothing else to be said.

How much you wished no one had to die. 

He stood on the platform and nodded at Bruce before locking eyes with you.

Apologetic. He looked apologetic. 

At the time, you thought he just looked sad. You assumed it was residual sadness from the funeral but looking back, you realized he looked apologetic for what he was about to do. 

Rebuilding your relationship wasn’t easy. Tony and Nat’s death and the trauma of the battle were overshadowing both of your feelings. You salvaged what you could and life returned to a “normal” that never existed. 

Being an Avenger means your living costs are covered by Tony, basically compensating for the missions. Only there weren’t any missions anymore. You were grateful but it meant that you had a lot of time on your hands. 

You took up a job as a waitress and Steve continued running sessions at the VA with Sam. It was humbling to be serving people at a diner after fighting alongside some of Earth’s mightiest heroes. But you needed it. And slowly but steadily, happiness crept its way into the tower. 

You didn’t see Steve around anymore though. You weren’t sure if you were even together anymore, aside from the forehead kisses and lingering glances.

You and Bucky set the table while you heard Sam and Steve banter over who gets to choose the movie today. Bucky chuckled and called them to eat.

There was relentless teasing, jokes being tossed around and big smiles everywhere.

“The nurse had poked him 2 times at this point and there was no blood coming out of him.” Sam laughed. 

“So she asks me if we can do the other arm.” Bucky snorted through breaths of amusement. 

“This guy pulls up his sleeve and the girl faints.” Sam howled as everyone doubled over in laughter. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and you look over at Steve who was laughing as well. It had been a long time since you’ve seen him so happy. 

Sure, he’d been distant. He hadn’t touched you since he came back. It had been 2 months though, and you wondered if you should try again tonight. You put a hand over Steve’s and he snapped his head to you. He gave you a small smile before slipping his hand out from under yours and picking up a napkin.

He needed the napkin, you told yourself. 

You went up to change into something that he might find more appealing. You were torn between the red lace set or the black corset. You settled for the classic red lace and tied on a robe before heading downstairs to tease him a little. 

“You’re going to tell her before you go right?” You heard Sam’s voice and broke your stride to the kitchen. 

“She won’t be happy.” You swore it was Steve’s voice but it was a little too quiet to be sure. You silently padded toward the kitchen, standing right outside the entrance to hear better.

“Of course she won’t be happy. You went back to be with a girl from 70 years ago and spent 4 months with her. You sort of cheated on her Steve.” Bucky’s voice quipped at Steve. 

You couldn’t be hearing right. Steve went back and got together with Peggy?

“It’s not sort of cheating, he almost got married to her,” Sam remarked in rebuttal. 

He almost got married to her. 

He almost got married to her. 

He almost got married to her.

There was so much information to process. Your shoulder sagged with the weight of the news and you cupped your mouth before anyone could hear your sob. 

“But I came back.” Steve countered. 

“Do you love her?” Bucky lowered his voice and inquired. 

“I don’t know anymore.” 

Your chest heaved and eyes burned. You wanted to gasp for air but you knew if you breathed, you would let out the anguish building in your stomach. 

Your back hit the wall and you slid down, not caring if he hears anymore. 

In moments, Steve, Bucky and Sam appear beside you with startled faces. 

You didn’t look at them as you got up and paced to your room. You thought you heard Steve’s voice calling after you but your thoughts pounded and clawed at the insides of your head. You couldn’t be sure and you weren’t going to turn back now. 

He didn’t run after you. You had predicted that he didn’t want to deal with your hysterical crying which surely could be heard past your room walls. When you considered it, this new Steve was actually quite predictable; you knew he wouldn’t bother bringing it up to you until you brought it up yourself. Because he was a coward like that, you decided. All of his actions spoke for themself and the one true motive behind his cheating is cowardice. You don’t know if you would have been okay with him going back to Peggy, but if he talked about it, things not have ended the way they did. 

After 2 days of not leaving your room, you knew that there was a better way to handle this. It wasn’t you who should be embarrassed; instead of sulking, you marched to his room with newfound determination. 

You threw open his door that he didn’t even bother locking. Steve was mid-speech with someone on the phone, seemingly a conversation that wasn’t going his way. He seemed tense, his muscles protruding from the tight white t-shirt pulled over him. 

Your jaw ticked as you shifted your weight onto one foot and rested on the doorframe, waiting for him to end the call. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short. We have a lot to talk about but it’ll have to happen in-person.” he concluded the phone call and sat on the bed with his head in his arms. 

“Seems like you planned it all.” you commented, trying to sound like you didn’t care. In reality, the wound was still very fresh. Even though a part of you had known that the relationship was over for some time now, you were only coming to terms with it now. 

“I wanted to tell you before I left, but you were just so upset and I couldn’t …” he trailed off. 

“All of a sudden you care about me? And now this is somehow my fault that you were too chicken to tell me,” you retorted, unimpressed with his answer.

“I have always cared about you and always will.” He got up and walked towards you. He cupped your face but you pushed his hand off, glaring up at him. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I admit I could’ve handled everything lot better but Y/N. When you told me Tony’s snap was his moment of selflessness, I realized that all I’ve ever done is be selfless. And I don’t regret any of it. But it was time I chose to do something for myself. Then I remembered Peggy and the life I left behind and I just knew this world would be okay without me so I chose to be selfish. I chose to be selfish, Y/n, and I don’t regret that either.” 

You were crying now, and Steve reached to wipe it off, but you smacked his hand. 

“You used to choose me. You woke up everyday and chose us. The day you decided you didn’t want this anymore, you decided you would just go ‘fuck all’ and cheat on me? You couldn’t have ended it like a normal person?” you questioned through your tears. Your vision was foggy but you kept wiping your eyes, trying not let him see your tears.

He sighed and let a few moments stretch on before he answered.  

“We both know that this relationship was over a long time ago Y/N.”

You noted his use of your name and not the usual pet name ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’. It saddened you even more to think that he doesn’t associate those words with you anymore. 

“You’re a fucking bastard Rogers. You are the biggest coward I have ever met in my life. You may be the Captain America, but you are the biggest wimp in real life.” You could tell he was fuming because of your comment but you continued your spiel. 

“I tried everything to make this work. The moment that the thought of cheating crossed your mind, you should have broken my heart. Because all you did now was rip it out and stomp on it before spitting on the what’s left-”

“I can’t believe you’re standing here accusing me of not trying to make this work. You know what Y/N? I fucking left Peggy because I thought about you and thought I could make this work. And then I came back and remembered all the reasons why this wouldn’t work and now I regret it. I wish I could go back to Peggy.”

“Go fuck yourself Rogers,” you muttered and turned to leave. “Actually, go fuck Peggy’s skeleton Steve. I curse you with every cell in my body. I hope you never get to see her again. I know you’re trying to go back,” you added before wiping you final tear, once and for all. There was no way you were going to shed another tear on this asshole. 

Except, it wasn’t that simple. You did cry over it more, but if there’s anything you did right, it was making sure he never saw your tears. 

You also found that post-break up glow up’s were a real thing. The lack of missions means you didn’t need to see Steve unless you chose to be in the same space as him. So you chose to make new friends and bring new light into your life. There was no dread clouding your judgment because for once, there was no impending threat on the future of Earth. 

You cut your hair, you changed up your wardrobe and got as fit as you’ve ever been. Your friends made frequent stops at the Tower which eventually turned into dragging you into their bar hopping.

On the other hand, Steve was doing everything he could to go back to Peggy, just like you had predicted. You manifested his downfall. Hank Pym refused to let his work fall into the hands of the Avengers and Steve was having a very hard time convincing him otherwise. The final nail in the coffin was when Hank decided that Pym Particles should not be produced anymore. As long as the world didn’t understand the entirety of the quantum realm, no one should have access to something that could mess with it. No arguments could ensue because there was nothing anyone could say to change Hank’s mind.

As much as Bucky and Sam wanted him to go back, they knew he deserved it for everything you were put through. When Steve found that his friends weren’t on the same page as him, he spiraled deeper into regret and depression. There wasn’t much to be done in terms of world-saving, which is what he was made for. The person he thought was the love of his life is gone now. When the dust settled, he realized that you were the only thing that kept him going for so long. But now he lost you too, and there was nothing he could do get you back. 

While you were out living your new life, Steve was trying to find a life for himself. He would see you around the compound and wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of your love. What he would do to feel that again, he couldn’t explain to anyone. 

Your escapades were at an all-time high. You knew that single life is the life. Just when you finally concluded that all men were trash, Ransom came crashing into your life. Although he only reinforced this belief, this man wasn’t just any trash. He was your trash. 

He was the mutual of your friends and you seemed to never be able to escape him. Moreover, your friends decided that you wouldn’t escape him. 

The teasing and playful banter between you two turned into something more serious about a year after your break-up. Ransom was everything Steve wasn’t. 

Steve was a gentleman. Chivalrous. Gentle. 

Then you reminded yourself that he had proven to you that he wasn’t any of things anymore. Ransom was the exact opposite, but he wore it on his sleeve. After all the lies and cowardice, Ransom’s blunt and bold attitude was exactly what you needed. 

There were moments you found yourself comparing the nature of the two relationships. With Steve, a lot of it was gentle and soft with some roughness around the edges. Life alongside Ransom was nothing short of callous, but that’s why soft, vulnerable moments felt even more extraordinary and special. 

If you made a judgement based off first impressions, someone like Ransom seems to be more likely to cheat than someone like Steve Rogers. Upon deeper analyzation though, Ransom doesn’t have any skeletons in his closet. He doesn’t claim things easily, but when he does, he would go to any length to make sure what’s his, will stay his. Soon after you realized this, you began abandoning thoughts of comparing the two relationships. 

//

There was a party at the Tower for Sam’s birthday. It was the first time in a long time that you were going to be around Steve for longer than 10 minutes. Doubt began seeping through your determination; how well would you fare under the pressure of pretending to be okay around him? 

“Do we have to match, sugar?” Ransom whined from your bathroom. 

“Why would you even go to an event as a couple if you aren’t matching?” you hollered back. 

You heard Ransom grumble as the bathroom door swung open. The emerald green dress shirt with small gold polka dots complemented his eyes so perfectly. Ransom was about to complain again before seeing the look of awe on your face. He decided right then that he could suck it up for the night. 

You were wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with sheer black net covering your shoulders, your sleeves reaching your elbows. The material was different, but the print was the exact same as Ransom’s. He couldn’t help but wonder why you put so much effort into such little things. He made a mental note to do something like this for you another time before wrapping his arms around your frame, burying his face into your face.

“Ran! My hair!” you squealed as you tried to push him off. 

“Usually it’s me that takes this long to get ready. You trying to impress the Captain?” Ransom winked and sat on your bed. 

“Oh fuck off.” you rolled your eyes and added the big bow to your half up hair-do. 

“You look so innocent baby. How angelic would you look with my cum dripping out of your mouth?” he smirked as you dropped your mouth, looking at him through the mirror. 

“My god Ran, this is not the time.” You shook your head and pulled him with you, finally making your way to the party downstairs. 

You were breaking out into cold sweat for some reason. Part of you really wanted to show Steve how happy you were now, but you felt that it meant you weren’t truly over him. Were you making a mistake?

Right before you opened the door the common room where the party was ongoing, Ransom stopped you and looked right into your eyes. 

“You know, as much as I’d like to make your ex jealous, if you don’t want this, I could think of a lot of other ways to spend the night,” he winked and you blushed. This is exactly why you liked him so much. There was no pressure to be anything but yourself around him. Even if you told him you wanted to go back to your room, there would be no judgement on his behalf. He wouldn’t ever bring it up as a joke either, because he just knew what he could and couldn’t joke about. 

“Let’s do this, bubbles” you giggled. He groaned at the nickname and pulled you into his side with one arm, opening the door with the other. 

One of Ransom’s many talents was making an entrance and this event was no exception. As you walked through the entrance, Ransom kept his head high and pulled you along with him. His confidence began rubbing off you and within a few steps, you stopped slouching. Straightening you back and tossing your hair behind your back, you bathed in the glory of the looks you and Ransom were getting. He took you straight to the bar, smiled at you and ordered drinks. 

“You know, your ex was fuming in the corner,” he remarked as he sipped on his drink. 

“No!” you laughed incredulously, unable to imagine Steve begin angry over Ransom’s presence. 

“It’s true, look for yourself,” he calmly retorted. His eyes flicked to a corner of the room and you followed his gaze there. Steve looked away upon seeing you look at him but it was clear that he was flustered. Bucky stood beside him, entertaining a gaggle of girls, but Steve’s attention was clearly elsewhere. 

“He’s actually pretty hot in person, it’s making me jealous” Ransom nonchalantly mentioned. 

You threw your head back and laughed. Your doubts of whether this was a good idea were dissipating very quickly. 

Ransom chuckled and then looked at you intently. You looked back at him, the high of the laugh wearing off because of his intense stare. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” you blurted. 

“You know, I’m glad you said it because I did not want to say it first.” he snickered and you playfully punched him. 

“Ow! I’m just kidding, don’t go all Avengers-mode on me!” he fussed.

You pulled him into a tight hug. He peeled your head away from his chest to cup your face and give you a light kiss before whispering ‘I love you too.’ You started to tear up, thinking of all the pain you had to go through to get this moment of tranquility with your favourite person in the whole, wide world. 

He cooed and kissed your forehead. 

“I always got you.” he assured and pulled your head back into his chest. You smiled and broke away from the hug, sitting back on the bar stool. 

“I think you transferred your lipstick because you have a dark red lip mark on your forehead.” 

You groaned and frantically wiped your forehead. 

“Hey,” he caught your wrist. “Why don’t we go back up and fix that?” His eyes glinted in the dim lights and you giggled like a schoolgirl as he pushed through the crowd.

In that moment, and every moment after it, Steve was long forgotten. 

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[honeybrulee]

Sacrifices

Jean x Reader

Summary: When Jean is knocked unconscious during a scouting expedition you make the decision to risk your life in a desperate attempt to save him

The blue smoke from the flare signalling the scouts to retreat billowed its haunting message across the sky. Whatever had happened, whatever state the scouts ahead of you and Jean was, it wasn't good, and that was all the information you had to rely on in that moment.

The two of you, at the very back of the formation, dug your knees into your horses to push them ahead, silently sharing a look of uneasiness at the situation. For conditions that required a retreat signal from the commander your surroundings were quiet. Too quiet.

"What do you think's going on?" Jean called, raising his voice slightly so that it would carry across to you over the sound of pounding hooves.

"No idea, but I don't like this. Something doesn't seem right. We need to regroup with the others as quick as we can."

Jean nodded sharply in agreement before spurring on his horse, leaning into its neck.

However, as per usual, your gut feeling proved itself to be right. Before you could even get near any of the others, the ground you rode on began to shake with the familiar heavy footfall of your enemies.

Turning to look behind you, you notice five titans approaching rapidly, eyes focused on you and Jean.

One of them was gaining more rapidly than the others- an abnormal. Not leaving anywhere near enough time for you to send off a flare in hopes that nearby scouts would notice your predicament, the abnormal lunged for Jean, sending him hurtling off his horse with a yelp and across the planes of land.

"Jean!" you cried out, veering your mount in his direction. Your concern grew as he remained motionless, splayed out unnaturally on the grass. You knew you needed to be fast, the abnormal pulling itself from its stomach to it's feet again.

You called out his name again as you rushed to him, but still only silence answered your call. You couldn't let Jean die- not before you had the chance to confess your feelings to him.

The two of you had been friends ever since enlisting for the scouts, and you had only grown closer and closer over the years. Countless nights spent in his company under the moon left you with a sense of longing in your heart, one which only worsened upon your observation of the way the man gazed at Mikasa. Regardless of whether your friend shared your feelings or not, you still couldn't leave him to die so carelessly at the hands of a titan.

Sliding off the saddle of your horse once you reach him you realise there's no chance of getting him back on his own horse, the poor creature having been crushed under the stomach of the abnormal when it lunged for him.

With haste, you scoop Jean up in your arms, grunting as you use all your strength to settle him on top of your steed. With every second you spent adjusting him the abnormal was once again gaining on you, a hunter ready to crush and consume its prey, and the other four regular titans weren't far behind. Your eyes pricked with tears at the wave of hopelessness that washed over you. No. This wasn't the time for those sort of thoughts. You had to pull this off - for Jean.

Jean. You observed the way his limp unconscious body slumped against your horses neck, blood flowing steadily from his nose and the corners of his lips and the areas around his eyes already beginning to bruise.

You had two choices. Get on the horse with Jean and try to outrun the titans- unlikely. That held the risk of neither of you surviving, the abnormal was too fast, you'd be overwhelmed before you made it so much as thirty metres. Option two, however, secured Jean's safety, and you already found yourself choosing that one with not even a second of thought regarding the repercussions for you. You would secure Jean to the horse, send it off in the direction of the others and pray they noticed him and took care of him. You, meanwhile, would remain behind, distract the titans from Jean and bring their attention to you. That was the one.

You lifted the reins, throwing them over Jean's body and tying them to the back of his belt, making sure it was tight enough for him not to fall. Scratches from the coarse earth littered his skin, and you couldn't resist the urge to lean in and press one tender kiss against his cheek. A goodbye kiss perhaps, maybe selfish on your part, maybe a waste of precious time- but you could take one moment to be selfish for yourself. You would earn it.

With one last look at Jean you nudged the side of your horse, sending it galloping off ahead with your friend secured to its back. Your heart clenched in desperation, begging whatever gods might be out there to deliver him safely to the scouts as you stood and watched him disappear into the distance.

The abnormal was right behind you now, letting out a throaty screech before lunging violently at you the same way it had to Jean. You quickly sank the hooks of your ODM gear into a nearby tree, pulling you sharply in its direction and out of the grasp of the titan. The trees were only short and were sparse, nowhere near high enough to give you any advantage over the abnormal but as long as you could remain out of its clutch you could manage until somebody noticed and came to help you. If somebody noticed.

Meanwhile, a few miles ahead, the scouts were regrouping, taking headcounts and waiting for as many survivors as they could gather to join them.

"Sir! Someones approaching on the horizon! Only a single rider!" a scout called out, alerting Levi and Erwin.

"Who is it?" another spoke, attempting to focus their eyes on the face of their approaching comrade. Things changed however, when they noticed that the rider was slumped over unconscious.

"It's Jean," Armin wailed, "and he doesn't look conscious!"

As the horse flew in their direction Captain Levi prepared to stop it, standing just to the side of its path so that he could grab the reins and haul it in. And that's what he did, the horse bucking and squealing in a frenzy.

"It seems like he's tied to the horse by the reins. And that's definitely not his horse, either," Eren evaluated, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Mikasa spoke next. "Whoever was with Jean must have tied him up like this so that he could escape while unconscious. But surely that means they must have been protecting Jean from something, else they'd be on the horse with him."

"Y/N! She was the one who was out there with him!" Armin came to the realisation, making the others murmur and gasp. You had made many friends within the scout regiment, always easy to get along with and willing to spend time with and care for your teammates, so your death would not go down easily.

Erwin furrowed his brows, thinking about his next actions carefully. If what they were theorising was true, he couldn't just leave members of his regiment to suffer a needless death at the hands of titans.

"Very well then," he spoke clearly, gaining the attention of the others. "Captain Levi, you will go with Eren, Mikasa and Armin to locate their missing teammate. I will lead the others back to the walls, join us when you have determined her fate. I will also see to it that Kirschtein is escorted safely to the walls."

With a nod, they departed, Erwin assigning two scouts to ride either side of Jean's unconscious body on your horse. The others galloped in the direction they had seen Jean come from, and it wasn't long before they found you. You looked weak from exertion, trying with every fibre of your strength to fight off the abnormal and the four regular titans. Three of the normal titans lay dead on the ground, the napes of their necks steaming in defeat. Now you were flying in endless circles around the abnormal and one remaining titan, barely missing their clutch each time they swung at you with meaty fists.

No matter how hard you tried, exhaustion would always find a way to catch up with you. After endless swinging, leaping and the intense focus it required to have kept yourself alive this long in your situation you were growing weary, the strength draining from your body, and before you knew it you were being squeezed horifically tight in the fist of the abnormal. The large titan opened its gaping mouth, blunt teeth exposed and ready to crush you. You yelled, using what little strength remained to squirm as hard as you could manage but to no avail. The creature's grip was too tight, and as it began lifting you into its mouth you found yourself squinting your eyes tight shut and sobbing.

You reminded yourself that this was for Jean, that you were doing this to save his life, but the thought of him only made you cry harder.

"'M, sorry, Jean. I love you," you whimpered breathlessly.

However, just as you prepared yourself to be bitten in half, the sound of ODM gear engaging caught your ears. You gasped in shock, and a small part of you began building hope again. The next thing you knew you were falling from the titan's fist towards the floor, the beast's nape having been sliced. Before you could meet the ground you were snatched up by someone. You didn't know who, however, as the relief you felt mixed with your exhaustion, leading to you falling into unconsciousness as you knew you were finally in safe hands.

You had done it. You had saved Jean and survived. They had come to get you.

___

When you regained consciousness you were safely tucked into your own bed back at the barracks. You tried to sit up but immediately fell back down and groaned at the sharp pain that wracked you. Your ribs, they must have been broken by how hard that titan had been holding you. The titan- Jean. Where was he? Was he okay? What if the scouts hadn't found him and he was still out there somewhere all alone. He'd be dead by now for sure if he hadn't met back with them. Had you unknowingly sent him to his death?

But before you had the chance to work yourself into a frenzy, all of your questions were answered in one.

"You're awake!" A frantic gasp from your bedside. Jean.

Tears sprung to your eyes. He really had survived and had made it home safe.

"Woah, woah, woah, you idiot, sit still. And what are you crying for?" he exclaimed.

"You're alive!" you rasped, throat raw.

"Yes, but the question is why? Why would you ever do that for me? Huh? Sacrifice your whole life, send me off to safety and leave yourself to be torn apart by titans for my sake? Why the fuck would you ever do that you idiot?" Jean was practically shouting, his voice shaking and wild.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes to avoid him.

"Well? Don't just close your eyes! I need to know why you would ever do something so stupid. Risk something so precious just for me!"

You felt your heart pounding, heat rising to your cheeks. He couldn't ask you something like that.

"Do you really need to ask?" you spoke quietly, still not strong enough to speak at a regular volume.

"Yes! I really fucking do need to ask."

"Think about it, Jean. You don't actually need me to answer that for you. You'll only make a fool of me." you pried your eyes open, looking up into his in the hopes that he would get your message and wouldn't make you go through the pain of being rejected, of being told that he only had eyes for Mikasa.

"You're already a fool for doing what you did. You should have left me to die. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, especially if the reason for your loss was me." Jean's angry facade broke, the man falling to his knees at your bedside and sobbing into the back of your hand.

"That's exactly why I did it, Jean. I don't know what I'd do without you either, and in that moment your entire life was in my hands so I did what I could to preserve it. Call me all the names you want, and maybe it was stupid, but I couldn't care less. I'd do it a thousand times over if it meant being able to see you alive and healthy every day. If you're really going to make me say it, fine, I'll say it. I love you, Jean. I have for years. I love the way you always panic over me when I get so much as a papercut; I love the way you let me lean on you and sleep on your shoulder when we're out scouting overnight; I love the way you make me laugh with your dumb jokes every day; and how you hold me when I'm sad and don't leave until you see me smile. I love you, Jean. Is that what you wanted to hear? And I know you only have eyes for Mikasa. I do- believe me, but there it is. The truth. The reason I did what I did. And like I said, I'd do it all over again. I don't expect you to say anything back, I already know you're not interested. Now please, just leave and spare me the embarassment of being rejected by the person I love."

Jean froze, dumbfounded. His eyes were wide and glued to your face, at the pained and heartbroken expression you held. All this time and you'd thought he'd never wanted you? Thought that he wanted Mikasa? Slowly, shakily, he got up from his knees and moved to sit on the mattress by your hip. You turned your face from him, avoiding his eyes.

"You truly believe I don't feel the same way?" his voice shook as he spoke.

Your eyes widened, and you automatically turned your head back in his direction to detect from his face if he was lying or not.

"You really think that I'd be this upset over anyone else doing what you did? You think I panic when you get hurt because we're just friends? You think my heart doesn't feel like it's going to beat out of my chest when you fall asleep against me? That I tell you all of my dumbest jokes just to keep a teammate entertained and that I hold you when you cry because I don't like seeing a friend upset? You really believe that. I do it all because I love you. Always have, ever since the day I met you. And Mikasa? That was a childish crush, never anything more. I've never felt for anyone the way I do for you. When I woke up back at the barracks I was so confused. The last thing I remembered was riding back to the commander with you when some titans appeared. I thought you were dead, Y/N. The others only knew I was conscious again because I screamed at the thought of you being dead and in the stomach of some damn titan while I was tucked up in bed, healthy and alive. And when Eren told me what really happened? I was furious. Furious at you for putting my life over yours, but even more furious at myself for letting that happen in the first place. I always make sure we're stationed together for the exact purpose of protecting you. I'd die for you, Y/N. And I know how hypocritical that sounds but gods I love you, my sweet girl. I don't know how I'd live without seeing that beautiful smile every day. I love you."

Tears brimmed at your waterline at his words, the breath leaving your lungs.

"You really mean that?" you gazed up at him, not daring to break the eye contact you had established.

"More than I've ever meant anything in my life," he reassured. Jean sighed, reaching to brush a strand of hair from in front of your eyes. His hand slid down to your cheek, thumb swiping over it and wiping away the escaping tears.

Slowly, ever so carefully so as not to hurt your battered body, Jean leaned down, resting his forearm at the side of your head for balance.

"Can I kiss you?" he almost whispered, eyes blinking slowly.

"Please," you sighed, heart pounding when he closed the distance and complied with your plea.

His lips swept against yours with every care in the world as the two of you exchanged your pent up emotion without words. And as Jean held you that night safe in his arms, as he spent hours pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, jaw, nose, lips- the two of you felt your hearts melding together, becoming one synchronous unit. He had you now, and you had him, and neither of you planned on ever letting go. You were in it now and forever.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Where I Can't Follow

Vibe for sad

Icarus is flying too close to the sun. And his wings may not melt, but this time it can break. Where the wind takes him will not be enough.

Pairings -> Venti x Reader?

Word Count -> 1416

Themes -> Sad hours, Abandonment Issues, ACTUAL short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> I seem to only know how to hurt Venti

"Can you tell me more about Celestia?" The said island of where ancients dwelled passes over past the moon as it was noticed and mentioned.

A strum. "The land of the divine?" A nod. "Why, it's a land of bland wine!"

A chorus of their laughters passes over as Celestia once again departs from the skies of Mond.

"Come now, Venti, tell me more!" A hum.

And his demeanor changes when his teal eyes bore on yours, a smile so soft and small, almost unnatural. "Celestia takes more than what we offer, and it is those that it takes which I loathe for."

Do not praise Celestia, for one day it shall take you away too.

Venti had yearned freedom for another. And you remember this tale much more vividly than the others. About the bard, who fought valantly for freedom.

When he sings to you, despite the fact that you had lived thosands of years past the deceased you feel the remnants of the pioneer, like the enigma the Anemo Archon is that stands before you.

You've heard the tales of the bard while by the hands of the Archon's statue and he speaks fondly of him, and ever since then Venti never speaks about him beyond that area. The bard's name or tale seems like a sacred tale that can only be spoken in that divine place. When you sit next to him and watch as his eyes distantly lingers at a land far away from reach, you realized that the direction he faces was where the ruins of the old city lays.

"He was my first friend." You also notice that beyond his mantra that the rhymes loosen up, disappear in the winds when you two sit there. As if he was stripped bare of what he made himself to be. That it was not the image of the bard that he has reincarnated himself to was speaking but the sprite from the war that only wishes to dance with the thousand winds under the symphony of a human's lyre.

"But you're here now! Just like the good old times! At least now, there's nothing that can kill you."

You give him a deadpan at the humor that was not at all. Even if he makes light of the situation you knew he was still aching and trembling inside, his resolve shedding the more he thinks. The more he remembers.

The word death was a touchy subject for him despite his immortality, and he can never finish his tale despite the many times he recited the whole story to you. Why would he detest it? After all it was his sacrifice that has given thousand of years of freedom for the populace. You want to be a hero? Then you'll have to die like one.

Another icon he speaks of so fondly was that of Venessa, the flame-touched knight that became the exemplar of freedom as its hero. When he had awoken to the new age of aristocracy, it was their chance meeting that had made him aware of the changes he dreaded.

Solitude and 500 years away from Mondstadt and its people, to grow on their own without the issue of divine intervention was his recipe for the exercise of freedom. But they turned unhinged and he once again had to intervene to revert it back to its glory.

Venessa was the epitome of paradox over the concept of freedom and slavery, and that of devotion for her people and for Celestia.

"I don't see what's so good about Celestia really," Venti grumbles to himself as you two lay under the shade of the Windrise tree, "but far from this place, I see the appeal of divinity."

You've always liked Windrise for its glorious towering crown as well as the history behind it. This is where the hero ascends to Celestia, her prayers she had uttered her whole life finally received as she ascends to be one of the four winds that continues to protect Mondstadt.

The word feels distasteful on the tip of his tongue, almost spitting it with venom. And you've never seen Venti look over anything with such distaste, besides cheese. But it seems it isn't just Celestia that hurts him now.

And maybe, despite the facade he has shown as the ever-loving God Barbatos, when Dvalin begged for release and freedom from his duty as one of the four winds— despite the years that he had waited for his cleansing, singing to his friend and calling for him to keep it together.

You knew Venti had lost another friend. He didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't be selfish, for he would be a hypocrite of a god to do so.

You can see the longing in the way his eyes twinkles whenever he looks up at the skies, a third layer of masked sadness dwells within it. And when he hugs you tightly as he weeps for both the loss and unshackling, there was a desperation and silent prayer in the way he squeezes you.

You and him realized it together that day. The other side of the coin that is freedom, had taken too much from Venti. And despite being its archon, he was tied down to his city, until his non-existent death he would be there forever. Watching every person move past his life, ascension after death, and death and death.

You thought to yourself, if immortality had given you all that is forever to live it, why does it feel as tho it jails your beloved Venti?

You always knew the capabilities of Venti and his permanence in this world, but as you rush over to his slouched form by Windrise, you couldn't help but release a tear in how broken and drained he looked. You took him in your arms and he succumbs like a lifeless doll so easily.

"It's okay, I can still heal myself," the gnosis that acts as the badge of his archon status had been taken away from his forcefully, beaten by a woman to the ground, his powers yanked out by the use of forbidden power meant to deter the likes of him.

You slip down to the grassy bed, his head laid on your lap as Venti tries to regain his strength without the help of the device that contains a huge chunk of his divine power. The hands on his cheeks tremble and he smiles to himself, nuzzling it. Silly human, he mumbles, I'm not going anywhere.

You were not knowledgeable on his capabilities without his gnosis, and you were scared that like the tales of the end of gods, he'd slip from your hands in the form of a fleeting somber wind. His element.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pour out all the desperation and pleas in your loud mind, please don't take him away, please be safe, please make him come back to how he was before.

In the dead of night with only the sound of the breeze lulling your silence, way above towers—

Celestia listens.

To the heavens may you fly.

Venti's glare was much, much harsher than the biting frost that threatens to tip him over back to the snow hundreds of feet below. The tip of Dragonspine's mountain held no regards for those who need to breathe, a crown of swirling clouds shying it away from distant and prying eyes.

He strums his lyre fiercely as a gale current of the same intensity manifests around him, his wind glider manifesting and instantly opening at the force. He managed to lift himself high enough to break through the clouds and it was a magnificent, magical sight of dazzling blue.

And yet his hand can only reach out at the dot of an island that was thousand of years away from his grasp, his weakened powers dissipates and he floats back down the winter land on his knees.

Venti bangs his fists against the snow as hard as he can and sobs, his tear immediately freezing over before it even passes his cheek. He can't reach that high up, he can't fly over in such a weakened state, despite being the archon of the winds himself.

Curses, he screams at the vortex that eats it whole, the divine has taken from him once again.

"I told you, not to go, where I can't follow."

Now he is alone, stuck in the city of freedom. Maybe he has been awake for too long.

@ellitx @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Drowning 6 pretttttry please. Your writing is amazing, honest to god. Wish I had your talent. Keep writing!!!!

Thank you for the ask and lovely message ❤

Drowning Part 6

Masterlist

This one is a tad different that the other parts, some segments are in from Supervillain's POV which are very vague because they are meant have an altered state feel to them. You also learn a lot about Villain and Hero's past in this one.

@shydragonrider @asrasmysoulmate

Warnings: unreality, wheelchair, schizophrenia, elecric shocking, hallucinations, hate towards another, possessiveness, restraints, drugged whumpee, sick whumpee

~

Supervillain emerged from whatever fluid contraption held him in place. His body went numb, pins and needles filling every limb, every muscle like wildfire.

But, nearly as quick as he broke the surface, he fell back in...

Falling...

Falling...

Falling...

His body seized up, a ringing in his ears... then he hit solid ground, his body going slack. Nearly immediately, he felt conscious of the tubes and moniters embellishing him like ornaments and garland on a Christmas tree.

His lead-filled mouth yanked open on its own free will, trying to force a scream out, but his tongue only managed a hoarse whimper.

He jerked his head about, finding it laid nearly on a pillow, but another trap locked his head in. He clenched his hands, but his body was already falling back into the sea- all feeling washed away by the waves.

Sand. He felt sand in his body, dehydrating and numbing, as consciousness was snatched away from him once again. The tubes faded, as did the traps- leaving Supervillain with an empty void.

He had a sense, but couldn't remember what happened in brief moments of waking like this. He hardly recognized the difference between unconsciousness and consciousness and if he did, it wouldn't matter. He never could escape. Never could escape the agonizing water in and around his body.

All he could do was fall.

Fall back into the water.

《~~》

"Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them," a voice spoke. Hero had given up on trying to tell apart the various differences between the countless heroes and doctors that spoke to her on a daily basis. Trying to just intoxicated her mind with a weird feeling of displeasure and annoyance that couldn't be placed. It was right in between her eyebrows, where she would have a unibrow if she didn't wax it all the time in highschool.

"Do you know who wrote that quote, Hero? Hmm?"

Hero didn't respond. Why would she? It gave her no clearance, no escape, no epic prison break that one may expect from such a person of stengths and wits. She just sat there, limbs tied to the ground by unrelenting steel, her head angled to watch the suffering man on the bed slowly fade away with persistent illness and everyday drugs.

"Bruce Lee," the speaker answered the question after quickly realizing that Hero wasn't going to.

Hero tuned out of the conversation, leaving it as background noise as she studied the scene in front of her. Supervillain was hooked up so many moniters, it was as if he was in a coma. Hero twitched her jaw. Maybe he was. The ventilation and feeding tube stuck all the way down his nose and mouth, opening it forcibly, definitely made that thought come alive.

Hero did this a lot, zoning out whenever someone tried to talk to her. Her once vibrant personality and optimism was dampered, replaced by a dull depression. Even Villain, who watched Hero daily, was getting nervous of this rapid decline in attitude- not that Hero knew of her betrayer's thoughts and emotions. To her, in this foggy hole of misery, Villain was an outcasted shadow, adding depth to the painting, but never a main topic. Heck, if she didn't concentrate, she didn't even see the light shade on the white surface.

There was only Supervillain.

But even that has changed, and not just in the extra moniters and tubes, but her whole aspect of him. He was the cause of her pain, he was the cause of the insufferable cloud that ascended over her.

There was no fondness in the way she viewed him anymore, just resentment. The deepest kind of resentment that could also be described as despising.

But even that was an understatement.

One day, a movement drew Hero out of her hate-filled thoughts and back into reality. It was Villain, playing with something by her wrist.

"Back off," she snarled, her voice sounding unnaturally deep and cracky.

"And so she speaks." The glint in his eyes revealed the sarcasm that his monotonous voice hid. "How are you Hero?"

Hero snarled, raising her lips in an animalistic manner, but didn't reply. Once her wrist was let go, the unused muscles allowed it to flop aimlessly against her equally thining thigh. She was fed yes, a vile piece of bland, moist garbage that gave her body its much needed vitamins, minerals, and nutrients, but lack of use degraded the once hefty muscle.

Villain worked on each of the restraints. Each arm fell limp as her legs splayed out, thankful for the break from the locked position they were kept in. When her head was let free, it flopped, her neck unable to keep it up.

Villain steadied her, putting his hand unceremoniously against the base of her neck. Hero squirmed, aware of her vulnerability.

"The door with the exit sign is unlocked," he whispered, so close to her ear that Hero cringed.

At first, her brain using its old habit, began to block out his words, but suddenly stopped and rewinded, shoving them back to the front of her mind.

Unlocked...

She could get out.

Villain helped her into a nearby wheelchair and was about to wheel her away when a strand of her empathetic nature fought against the newfound distant demeanor.

"What 'bout Supervillain?" She asked, her voice a weak whisper.

"This is for you," Villain replied casually grinning down at Hero, happy that she was back to somewhat normal.

Hero sunk into the plushy cushioning of the seat and looked at Supervillain's still figure and snarled. Ha, he didn't get to leave. She did. She got to escape the inhumane confines that kept her bound up like a trapped goat.

He didn't. He could now pay for his crimes.

Yet, as stubborn as this thoughts of retribution sounded, they weren't. That sympathizing portion of her protested against the new arrangement. And, being the stronger of the two opposites, it left her tongue in forms of coherent words.

"I won't leave him," she said, her heart bursting. Whether the internal explosion was due to anticipation or exaltation, it don't matter. It felt natural, like herself.

"You really don't have a choice."

"Why do you want me free?" Hero asked.

"This place is the definition of boring."

Hero was silent and contemplated Villain's statement. He really didn't care about her levels of bore and joy, never did. Any interaction or any relationship that the two once cherished was borne of platonic care of the other's well-being. Nothing too deep, and barely held any real intent. Are you alive? Are you dead? Were the only two questions that brought along any vowels of conversing.

It was weird, abnormal. Hero might've even went as far as to say suspicious.

But it was also promising. Very, very promising. It held the possibility of freedom that the chair did not.

But he was Villain. He did not have one ounce of good will or honesty in his cold veins. He was a liar, a cheat, and as much as she would've loved to call them friends, it was close to impossible. They couldn't build a relationship off of trickery as much as the two once wanted to.

This was a scheme, a lie, to get to Hero and make her mess up. Mess up and then she gets hurt.

Or worse, Supervillain does.

That thought stood out from the rush of others in her brain for it held an interesting style to it. As close as she was to the old Hero and away from the shadow that "choosing who gets hurt" made her into, she wasn't it yet.

Not yet.

"Boring, but I am alive," Hero retorted, rolling her eyes as well as the stiff rectus muscles in her eyes allowed.

"That is otherwise obvious." Villain placed a hand on the barred door that only purpose served as an aesthetic.

"Yeah, in a way I suppose, but Supervillain isn't."

"He's breathing."

"He sleeps all day and when he does manage to wake, he passes out almost immediately. I need to stay with him!"

"You do nothing but glare daggers at him. You are released dear."

"No, you are not helping me escape from this damn place!"

Villain was silent, paused in the motion of pushing the door open.

"Amidst your utter hate for him, you still have the decency to protect him; Hero there is nothing to protect. With one simple flick of a switch, he is dead," Villain pointed out, turning to Hero with tears in his icy blue eyes that Hero once found gloriously gorgeous. Ones that she used to gaze into as they fought, unable to tear herself away. She lost many fights that way by being too distracted to actually land a punch.

But the innocence of that gaze was really just hiding the fact that Villain was a scandalous bastard- only giving half-truths and fake emotions about everything.

"Then why do you give him the serum. You guys know that I won't hurt those civilians," Hero pointed out with a shrug.

Villaim remained silent and wheeled Hero out of the room.

《~~》

Supervillain seemed to always arouse when the nurses swarmed him to administer the vile liquid that plagued his veins with nauseating adrenaline. He felt the hot- not warm, but scorching hot- drug enter his veins.

But it wasn't the beginning, the actual pain of the procedure, that caused Supervillain his horrifying misery. It was afterwards and he wasn't thinking of the dizzying fatigue that usually pushed him into another deep sleep, but the memories it brought.

Some were nostalgic, others taut with grief. Others held regret while some even had remnants of agonizing torture he once endured.

Or gave.

But they were never happy, nor comforting to any degree.

So, when a reverie of kind touch swarmed Supervillain's sensations, his lethargic heart started to pump in rocket speed, motorizing the boat to accelerate...

"Go to sleep."

Hero's voice. One that brought him so much comfort. Hands scratched at his scalp and he felt his heavy eyelids drop.

"I'll be hear when you wake up," Hero lulled, humming softly as the sweet scent of vanilla hit Supervillain's scent receptors. He smiled, the tiniest of grins and nuzzled his nose into her warm, fleece sweater.

But, even delirous as he was, in the back of his head, Supervillain knew this was a vision. A hallucination. The model of schizophrenia that the drug brought upon his mind.

But it was just so real.

So he gave in, purposely allowing himself to be washed away by the unreality of the dream.

Because he loved it. He loved the touch as if it was actually real.

A warm figure slid next to his body wrapping its- her- arms around his shivering body. Phony yes, it gave stability as the fatigue pushed itself to its maximum.

As consciousness dripped away, Supervillain hummed slightly, happy with the feeling.

《~~》

Hero's hand buzzed over the door, considering the possibilities of opening it, but in the end, she blatantly refused.

"No," she said, her old self returning. "I am not going to leave Supervillain."

Villain's eyes widened, chin shaking.

"You care for him?" He asked, voice slightly elevated like a flute's pitch. Such a change from the droning audibles that usually slugged off his tongue. "Like actually."

Hero's brows crunched together as she read Villain's new face expressions. Blond hair draped down to his pointed eyebrows where it slightly curled. Tears seemed to well in his azure eyes.

"Are you crying?" Hero asked, scoffing, but in reality, she cared.

Cared a whole bunch.

"It's just," Villain stepped forward, leaning down and resting his hand on Hero's shoulder. His other hand balanced delicately against the holster of whatever weapon he carried.

Suddenly, without warning, his hand shot up and an bolt of electricity flashed through her body. Hero fell forward, screaming and withering on the floor.

Villain leaned forward, breath warm against her sweaty cheek. "You are mine Hero. I won't ever let you hold, or care for Supervillain again," he growled, bringing thr taser back to Hero's neck. "Goodnight, my love."

The electric shock came again, and the world descended into blackness.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (18) || atz

You and Wooyoung are sitting in the rigging, staring out to sea.

The Treasure has left Tortuga for a few days now, sailing in the open sea for the town of Nassau. From what Wooyoung has told you, Nassau, Seonghwa’s hometown, used to be a port thriving with pirate activity… until one day, the Royal Navy decided retake the town from the pirates. Pirate ships were burnt to the ground, the crews hung at the gallows and anyone associated with them brought in for questioning.

It is during that purge that Seonghwa’s parents were killed.

Seonghwa has finally left the confines of the galley, escorted to the sickbay to sleep and rest. Yunho is keeping a vigil beside Seonghwa, while you’ve taken over his cooking duties and Yunho’s lookout role. You may not be as well suited to the job as the two of them are, but it’s the most you can do for being to blame for Seonghwa’s condition.

If only you had known what to do.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

If only you hadn’t let the herbs be stolen.

You know it’s stupid, but the thoughts won’t stop echoing in your head.

If only you hadn’t gone out to celebrate your name.

You chew your lips.

If only you hadn’t come to this ship.

Guilt tears at you from the inside like the teeth of a piranha. The pain is all too acute, all to real.

“Hey.”

You’re jerked back from your thoughts by Wooyoung, who’s grinning at you. Somehow, the head gunner has pushed past the air of gloom surrounding the ship, managing to keep a broad smile on his face despite the weight on everyone’s shoulders. How he’s doing it, you don’t know, but part of you resents how easily he can seem to forget that Seonghwa is still in the sickbay, struggling to block out the voices of his dead family from his ears while all of you are absolutely powerless to help.

Even now, Seonghwa’s still refusing the sleeping incense, but Yeosang has given given him back the steak plushie, which he hugs to sleep every night. Jongho helps by singing his hyung to sleep. San mixes relaxing teas for him. Captain and Mingi studying the overlay of Nassau, trying to find the most inconspicuous way they can enter the town without garnering the attention of the authorities.

It’s only you and Wooyoung who can do nothing. And the guilt you feel is swallowing you whole.

Wooyoung suddenly leans forward, shackles clanging as he uses his fingers to turn your mouth up in smile. “I’m sure captain and Mingi will think of something. We’ll help Seonghwa-hyung and everything will be fine soon. Don’t be sad.”

Anger rushes forth.

“Don’t be sad?” You snap, smacking his hand away. Wooyoung looks visibly wounded, pain flashing across his face as his hand falls to his side, but you’re too caught up in your fury to notice. “Seonghwa-hyung is in this state and you have the gall to smile and act happy?”

Something in Wooyoung’s normally bright viridescent eyes darkens suddenly as he silently watches you rant.

“I hate how you’re still so happy go lucky! It’s like you don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone even though you’ve had family like Jongho-hyung and Yunho-hyung!” You continue raving, not seeing the way Wooyoung’s fingers clench so tight around the ropes his knuckles turn bloodless. “ I’m the only one who has no family, alright? I’m not like all of you, I don’t know what it’s like, but you’ve had family before, so shouldn’t you try to be more understanding?”

Silence falls between the two of you as you finish. Then you realise that you’ve just literally just thrown everything, your hurt, your pain, your guilt onto Wooyoung, who must be suffering too somewhere deep down inside. To your horror, his head hangs low so that you can’t see his expression, but from the way his shoulders are curled in on themselves, you must have wounded him deeply. Regret and guilt fills you.

You can’t seem to do anything right.

“Wooyoung-hyung, I’m sorry-”

“What else am I supposed to do, then?” Wooyoung breathes, turning to meet your eyes head on. You desperately want to look away, but his gaze is unbreakable as steel. There’s something utterly frigid about them, almost terrifying, like a dragon rearing its head. “Cry? Complain? Feel pity for myself? Curl up in a ball and hide until all the problems disappear?”

That’s exactly what you want to do right now under the weight of his of his intense stare, pinning you down.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean it-”

“You did.” Wooyoung cuts you off fiercely, his green eyes burning. “You meant every word of it and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I don’t intend on moping around because that’s not going to help anything. So get those stupid thoughts about it being your fault out of your head because none of them are true and smile because you need to believe things can get better.”

The resolve in his voice is unshakable, and you curl in on yourself to avoid Wooyoung’s stare, shame burning on your cheeks. All this while, you’ve only been thinking about yourself and your guilt, forgetting that you also affect the members of the crew and that moping around hasn’t helped at all.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly under your breath, but Wooyoung hears you anyway and his smile returns once more.

“I forgive you.” He beams at you gently, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your head rests against his shoulder, seeking comfort. “I understand.”

You wipe the tears from your eyes as you swallow down your emotions. Right. Smile. Be positive. Staying negative isn’t going to help anything.

Then Wooyoung frowns as he looks down onto the main deck. “Yeosang is coming over. I wonder what he needs.”

“Wooyoungie! Is Chin Hae up there with you?” The navigator stops in front of the main mast, hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks up. Wooyoung nods. “Yeah! Do you need him?”

“Can you tell him to come down? I have something to discuss with him.”

You frown, a little confused as Wooyoung glances at you in surprise. Then he leans forward to pinch your cheeks into a smile again, mirroring his own. “Go on. Don’t forget to smile.”

You manage a real smile for the first time in days.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-hyung.” You say as you climb over the side of the crow’s nest, making your way down and dropping lightly to the main deck. Yunho would be so proud if he saw you doing that. “What do you need, Yeosang-hyung?”

“San spoke to me earlier about your encounter with a fortune teller.” Yeosang explains to you as the two of you make your way across the main deck. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about. “Since Hongjoong-hyung is steering and Mingi is sleeping in the main hold, the captain’s quarters are empty and I thought that I could take this time to research on what the fortune teller said with you.”

Your heart leaps into your chest with ecstasy at what this could mean, but then you pause a little.

“Should we be doing this now? With everything that’s going on?”

Yeosang stops in the middle of pushing open the door to the captain’s cabin to look at you seriously. You’ve never realised how big and clear his eyes are, completely genuine and free of any trace of ill will. “It’s not like we can do anything now. What we can do is keep our spirits up and be strong for Seonghwa-hyung until we reach Nassau. And you’ve been looking down lately, so I thought I could try to cheer you up by clearing some of your questions.”

Warmth blooms in you at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Yeosang-hyung.”

The navigator smiles happily at you, almost radiant. “No problem. It’s my honour you’d trust me with such an important piece of information.” He opens the door and ushers you in.

You’ve never been in the captain’s cabin without the captain being present, so the room is unnaturally quiet and still. Yeosang, however, seems to know the room like it’s the back of his own hand, moving towards one of the shelves at the far end of the room while you hover awkwardly at the door.

“Please sit.” He indicates to the bed as he pulls out a scrap of parchment. You recognise it as the one Seonghwa had written your prophecy on the other time when you were discussing your visit to the fortune teller. Yeosang brings the paper over to you.

“So, what part haven’t you figured out?” He asks seriously, as he reaches in his pocket for a small wooden case, producing a pair of thin, gold rimmed eyeglasses and placing them on his nose delicately. You look over the words.

“The sea witch and the jar of clay.” You answer honestly.

Yeosang nods and moves over to his array of books. The walls are covered in them, from texts to maps to travel rutters to books of varying languages. There are even some tied up in stacks and placed neatly on the floor, all of them well kept and not a speck of dust on them.

He pulls out a few books, putting them in his arms as he mumbles to himself, eyes flitting among the shelves. Then he returns to you, setting the books on the table with a huff. “Let me look through these for a moment.”

You study him intently as he flips through the books faster than you can blink, fingers flying along the pages. The title on some of the books read ‘Legends of the Sea’, ‘Mythical Folk’ and such.

“The sea witch is a powerful entity who was once human with a bond to both the land and sea. She holds immense power, drawing upon the sea to cast spells. In return for a high price, she grants both magical and non magical folk alike what they desire.” Yeosang reads aloud, meticulously focusing on every detail. “Only people in great desperation can find the sea witch, as her lair lies hidden in a magical realm of the sea in which mortals cannot find. The entrance is rumoured to be off the coast of several uninhabited islands in the Atlantic, guarded by the sirens and fierce tidal straits rip through the waters, smashing any ship that dares pass through.”

“That’s… good to know.” You swallow uncomfortably. The only one who probably knows exactly who you are, and she’s probably out of reach. You’re unwilling to put the crew in danger because of your own problems.

“Those who have made a deal with the sea witch tend to have a token on which the deal was sealed.” Yeosang continues, glancing at the necklace hanging from your neck. “The price is often exorbitantly high, and is rarely something of material worth. It often is something of immense value to the person making the deal.”

Your memories.

You had given up your memories.

“In popular folk stories, she was responsible for taking the voice of a mermaid who’d fallen in love with a prince of the land in return for her legs. She also gives out pieces of ropes with three knots. Pulling the first knot could yield a gentle, southeasterly wind, while pulling two could generate a strong northerly wind, but the third knot would unleash a hurricane.” Yeosang looks slightly interested. “Hongjoong-hyung has one of these, but he’s used the first knot already.”

“Really?” You gape. This sea witch can’t be mere legend now.

The navigator nods as he picks up another book. “We were being chased by the Royal Navy, but he used the wind to blow the ships away. That’s when hyung really started to believe in myths a little.”

He opens a book called ‘Symbolism Through Ages’. “Jars of clay, jars of clay… Jars of clay refer to humans. In many books such as the Holy Bible, humans were described to be jars of clay, having mortal bodies while holding precious souls of great value in them.”

A jewel resting in a jar of clay.

Yeosang’s eyebrows pinch together as he continues reading. “This is a interesting explanation, but not rather helpful as it’s quite metaphorical. You said that the fortune teller asked you who’d made you?”

“Yeah…” You shiver a little at the words. “Then she told me the sea witch was my mistress.”

Yeosang frowns thoughtfully, and you can literally hear the gears in his mind turning. He picks up another book, flipping through it absentmindedly as he glances through it. “Made… Clay… Vessel… Humans… Sea Witch… Bargain...”

Then he stops.

All at once, his eyes fly wide open, pupils dilating in realization, mouth going slack, face ashen. The expression on his face can only be described in pure, unadulterated shock, and he stops breathing for a second as if air has trapped itself in his lungs.

Your heart skips a beat in excitement.

“Did you find something?” You begin to ask excitedly, but Yeosang barely seems to hear you, staring in horror at the page, then at you.

Unease begins to crawl up your skin, but you force it to the side and ask. “Yeosang-hyung… what is it?”

That seems to snap Yeosang out of his daze and he desperately tries to smooth his face in a neutral expression, but he can’t quite hide the terror in his eyes. “It’s nothing. I just thought of something, but it’s no big deal.”

The way his voice is trembling tells you it is anything but.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and barely restrained anger. “Yeosang-hyung, what are you hiding from me?”

“It’s nothing.” The navigator insists, slamming the book shut. You get a mere glimpse of the cover. Prome-, but then Yeosang’s hand slides over the title and you can’t see it any longer. “It’s nothing at all, so just let it go, please.”

Usually, you’d let anything he says go, but this is different.

“Then let me see it.” You hold your hand out to take the book, but Yeosang wrenches it from your grasp before you can even hold it, eyes flaring in panic.

“Don’t touch it!” Yeosang shouts furiously, clutching the book to his chest. Rage fills you, what may be an answer to your identity is right there, but Yeosang won’t give it to you. You storm over to him, ready to rip the book from his hands if you need to.

“What are you doing?” You snarl at him, almost animalistic as you reach to tear your only clue from him, but Yeosang shakes his head, arms folding around the book.

“You can’t see it!” He screams at you, tears streaming down his cheeks and you feel red hot anger thrumming in your veins, purring to life like an awakening monster. Icy calm washes over you, in complete contrast to the fury burning in your heart. How dare he cry as if he’s the one losing anything from this?

Yeosang must see the shift in your eyes as your expression settles into one of dark determination, because his knees start knocking uncontrollably and his eyes dilate with pure, undiluted and primal fear.

“Give the book to me, Yeosang.”

In this moment, Yeosang makes a decision.

His fingers fumble with the latch behind him. Before you can realise what he’s doing, he’s opened the pothole, turned away from you and tossed the book into the ocean.

You feel like your last hope has been crushed into shards and scattered to the wind. Broken fury and grief screams within you like two clashing hurricanes, tearing you apart and ripping through you. Your eyes land on Yeosang, who looks stunned by what he’s just done.

You finally manage to find words in your rage to convey to him what exactly you’re feeling now.

“I hate you.” You spit with every bit of loathing you can muster, and with that, you whirl around and dash out of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind you.

Yeosang doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely slides to the ground on his knees, body curled into a ball, wishing he could beg for your forgiveness.

And his fist pressed against his mouth to stifle the sobs pouring from his chest.

[my-writings-and-musings]

For the bot reader sparkling prompt what about Swerve and or Whirl? (I’m especially curious about Whirl’s reaction if the (or one) of the sparkling(s) resembles him pre-empurata) I would toss a possible Misfire in there too but I don’t think he’s a bot you usually do.

Hope you're ready for FEELS and CUTE SPARKLINGS because that's absolutely my favorite combo anon! Plus I'd always liked the Scavengers but never really looked into their appearance in the comic until now, and thank you for giving me the impetus to learn about the chaotic but still lovable gaggle of misfits.

Swerve

·He's admittedly been on a whole new level of euphoria since the two of you started dating, but the moment he found out you were gonna be Creators he more or less ascended. Every scan nearly brings him to tears and he keeps all the pictures on him wherever he goes, so any bot that comes near will be ambushed by a flood of bragging and a veritable album of a bitlet that hasn't even been born yet. Suffice to say that when it was finally time to meet your little bundle, he was emotional, though for your sake he remained a surprisingly steadfast and supportive partner through the entire emergence. But the moment he laid his visor on that squawling little bitlet...

·"Tears" aren't quite sufficient to describe the waterfall that poured from his visor, but thankfully the staff was quite accustomed to such reactions and smoothly checked over the newborn before handing them back to their new parents. As a metallurgist for a species made of metal that's at it's most vulnerable after birth, he's actually been present for a few sparklings entering the world to provide potential care for those considered high risk, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing your beautiful new bitlet in person.

·Between praising you and the beeb he can hardly get a coherent word out through the blubbering, but his awe and adoration is still clear as day. You made a whole new bot, and now they're here, and they're the most amazing little sparkling the planet has ever seen! Every feature of yours or his that he sees gets him crying anew, and he can't possibly fathom what he's done to deserve any of these blessings. Countless photos of their first few hours are accumulated to join his collection in addition to being shared via intergalactic Wi-Fi to every friend you have.

·When your chosen visitors arrive he's absolutely effusive with his praise of you and the beeb. Do they see this bitlet? Have any of them ever seen anything this precious in all of history?! His Conjunx made them isn't that the most amazing thing in the entire galaxy like how did they even do that?! Even bots who know him well are amazed by how genuinely tender and affectionate he is, as there's not a joke to be heard from him even once. Truthfully he can't think of anything funny about this at all, except maybe how even the tougher bots that visit absolutely melt when they see the sweet little face of a newborn amidst a bundle of blankets, but he can't really blame them now can he?

·Despite all of his joy for the two of you being Creators, when it's just you and him and the sparkling again, he's quite hesitant to ask if he can hold them. He's held them before in the rush of the moment, but here in the still and calm... It worries him. There's so much caution in his grip when he takes them into a gentle cradle, his bulky arms easily supporting the tiny weight despite how unnaturally heavy they feel. There's a flash of worry for all the chances he'll have to mess up, but that disappears when a little fist pops free of the blanket and into the bitlets mouth, where they contentedly suckle on it in the most adorable display he's ever beheld. Somehow he knows it will be okay in that moment, because he'll never let anything happen to you or your new little addition.

Whirl

·His reaction to his own prospective sirehood was a near perfect example of internal screaming beneath a veneer of calm. Of course he wasn't necessarily surprised, and he loved you more than anything in any universe, but... you've met him, right? Sure, you fragged him, but have you paid attention to the kind of bot he is? Do you really want any of this around a sparkling, or remixed into one? Admittedly he hadn't had an argument for your simple "yes" in reply, and to the day your little bitlet arrives he still can't think of a rebuttal, beyond how his claws don't give you much of a hand to hold or provide good massages.

·Somehow the entire process manages to be Unicron levels of unthinkable horror and awe inspiring beautiful wonder at the exact same time, and his attitude is even more varied as a result. There are moments he's the calm partner whispering sweet nothings, the aggressive coach shouting for you to kick labor's ass, the panicking wimp who refuses to believe the body parts he's seeing belong where they are, and the petrified but dutiful sire-to-be frozen in horror while you hold onto him for dear life. Thankfully he manages to reign it all in once the two of you have a newly minted bitlet wailing in the real world.

·He'd expected to be awed, but also knew to brace for seeing a bundle that... didn't much resemble his current self, due to Empurata not affecting genetics, but he never could have prepared himself for the reality. One look at this tiny and flawless little accident and he comes embarrassingly close to fainting, his long legs folding into a chair some brilliant medic was smart enough to push beside the bed, and his optic growing misty as he beholds you and the whole new person you made. There's awe at the fact he contributed to making something unbelievably perfect, happiness for a million reasons he doesn't care to comprehend, but also... sadness. A face he'd never thought he would see again is looking up at him with the biggest and most innocent pair of optics, all while a tiny mouth nibbles on a pair of servos so like the ones he had taken from him.

·He should be... angry, maybe? Old Whirl would have been angry, furious at the Functionists for ruining so much, but he just doesn't feel it. The sadness in his spark isn't even for him, it's for this little one who will grow up and eventually figure out why his sire looks the way he does, and all the pain that may cause a bot who never did anything to anyone... But that feeling is so small it's quickly swept away so he can feel what he actually wants to feel, and he wants to feel happy damn it! You and he have a bitlet, and a pretty good one as far as bitlets go! Heavy stuff can be addressed later, the two of you get to enjoy this with friends! There's precious few bots he trusts enough to visit, but those that make the cut are welcomed and invited to pay respects to the cutest sparkling ever born and the bot who squeezed them out. He has to fight incredibly hard to keep from shedding happy tears, but seeing so many of his friends coo over this tiny miracle strains his emotional reservation to the limits.

·For all the love he has for the little one, and all his progress in accepting himself, he still hasn't held them by the time night is settling and you're in need of rest. Only your obvious exhaustion and his protective nature compels him to finally accept the sleeping sparkling, and even then he's a wreck on the inside, his spark all but crackling with anxiety as the delicate beeb is laid in his arms while he stays carefully seated. Nothing could have made him understand just how tiny this little guy was until this moment. As you drift off, he tempts fate and holds out the tip of a careful claw, not daring to ventilate as he gently adjusts some blankets for a better look. Something like abject terror shoots through him as a stubby hand takes hold of him, but he doesn't move, and the little one only coos and keeps his solid little grip. At that he lets himself cry just a little. Nothing will ever hurt you or this tiny gift so long as he lives, and he won't let anything past present or future ruin the happiness you've made together.

Misfire

·His whole life he's had a soft spot for things that need caring for, but every time he's found something or someone to take care of he's told himself all he really cares about is the potential benefit for him. Recent events have forced him to admit that there's a soft spark under his... business savvy ways. Finding out he'd be a sire though? That was an entirely new level of self discovery, because he's absolutely thrilled and has no logical reason why. He quickly has to tell the rest of the Scavengers, which becomes daily updates on everything sparkling related, so even his close collection of friends is admittedly a little relieved when the bitlet finally arrives and they can meet them. Thankfully none of them were there to see him faint on more than one occasion during the delivery, but he does have to make up a story about the dents on his head when he calls to give the announcement that their newest Scavenger has arrived, claiming that he got them in a heroic dive to save the bitlet when they were still slippery and dropped by a medic.

·While never one to be too mushy, he's made incredibly sappy just by the sight of the new little bitlet when they finally end up clean and swaddled in your arms. All across the little one's features are pieces of him that he recognizes on the spot. Blended perfectly with those are obvious signs of you, creating a whole new being who's got some of you both while still existing as their own unique little wonder. It defies all logic and yet he's so happy he can't really bring himself to care. From their optics to their stubby hands to their impossibly cute little pedes they're already the most perfect being to ever come into existence, making them tied with his Creators for perfection, and no bot is ever going to be able to convince him otherwise on that undeniable fact. But, for the sake of the moment he does have to wonder; does this sparkling yet realize how attractive they're going to be?

·The group is getting a million messages a minute from the new sire as they head over to see the newest addition, and when they finally arrive he does everything he can to present the little beeb with a proper introduction but can't stop getting misty optics and sniffling the whole time. Thankfully the Scavengers are an understanding bunch. Every one of them welcomes their new teammate with a carefully observant Misfire there to ensure they don't risk any kind of damage to the bitlet. Not that he doesn't trust them, but he does know them, so... None of them take it personally. Nickel is spared this oversight, of course, being a responsible bot and a medic more than capable of holding even a proportionally sizable sparkling. One she informs the new Creators is very cute in her proffesional opinion.

·Grimlock gets a special little moment with the new Sire, specifically one in which he gets to truly see how far he's come with his little adopted family now that it's started to grow. Misfire is fully trusting as he hands over the snoozing bitlet, and while the Dinobot is beyond touched, he does indeed hesitate just the tiniest bit. Gigantic servos absolutely dwarf the sparkling when they're settled within. Despite what any bot walking into the room might think, Misfire knows that at this very moment his bitlet is more or less in the safest place in the universe. They seem to be at least somewhat aware of this, as their little tubby cheeks lift up in a smile when they behold the gigantic bot looking down on them, a sight so unimaginably adorable it makes every bot present shed at least a single tear.

·When the rest of the group heads out after leaving a mountain of gifts in their wake, Misfire happily takes the beeb so you can get some sleep, because he at least got some rest when he passed out during emergence. Holding his little one with just the tiniest hint of uncertainty, he spends the night mostly chatting with them in a fully one sided whisper conversation, though he does occasionally get a tiny sound from the sparkling he'll swear is a coherent reply. Understandably, this little one has a lot to catch up on though. He can't help smiling at the thought of all the adventures he's going to be able to brag about to them, and how many you'll all have together once this little one is up and finally walking. There's so much he'll have to teach them too, and somehow that excites him more, knowing you and he will get to help shape this little wonder into the most amazing bot that's ever lived...

[issytheamateurnerd]

Buckle up! This is the longest part yet!

The Hitman's Daughter

Part Five: Prisoner

“Who are you?”

My head was spinning, and my stomach was queasy. I was so nauseous I couldn't open my eyes and I felt like throwing up.

When I finally managed to open my eyes, it still took an eternity for them to actually focus.

But the person I saw in front me made me feel even sicker than before.

The head of Providence, Arthur Edwards.

“You are a strange child, aren't you?”

Just seeing him filled me with rage. He was responsible for all of this. Manipulating and stealing from everyone he came across. Tearing us apart, killing innocent people, scheming his way to the top of an organization that forcibly controlled the world. It was all for his own gain.

“Edwards... “ I said through my teeth, “ you…you-” I tried to lunge at him but quickly realized I was tied to the chair I was sitting in, my hands tightly hand-cuffed in front of me.

“Now, now…” said Edwards, “there’s no need for that. We’ve never even met before so it seems a bit rash to try to attack like this.”

“Where am I?! What do you want with me?!” I shouted.

“Well, at first, you were nothing but a witness and after how much of Providence was revealed to the world, we simply couldn't allow that.” His condescending voice disgusted me.

“So why did you spare me?”

“Before you could be killed, you showed a flawless display of self-defense. My agents knew you were much more than a simple teenager. After all, your reflexes and combat skills are exceptional, almost unnatural, for a girl your age.”

“So what?” I asked, “Maybe I like combat training because I happen to be really good at it.”

“Perhaps,” he replied “But…isn't it strange that a girl who is unnaturally skilled was found completely alone watching a supposed complete stranger get attacked without running for help. At first, I thought it might be simply a series of coincidences, but then our own heralds informed that you are the same girl seen with Diana Burnwood. Leaves questions, doesn't it?”

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, not realizing that feeling was still coming back to me as I suddenly felt a pain in my arm. Looking over, I saw a small, bloody bandage.

“My scientists are almost finished doing tests on your blood sample but….perhaps we can skip that part. I’m going to ask again, who are you?”

I scoffed and said nothing.

“Well?” He asked again.

“Do you take me for an idiot?” I said, “I don't have to tell you anything.”

Anger flashed across his eyes for a brief moment but he retained his calm demeanor.

“Forgetful are we? Perhaps my bodyguard here can help you.” He turned towards a bodyguard I hadn't noticed before.

“Untie her.” He said.

The bodyguard did as he was told and untied me and pulled me upward. My feet, that I just realized were bare, touched the cold ground, on top of that, I was wearing thin, white clothes which weren't very warm at all and it was freezing.

“Now, help her remember.”

I forgot about the cold as a rush of pain shot through my head as he slammed the handle of his gun across my face.

The force threw of my balance and my restrained hands did little to catch me.

Before I could react at all, the bodyguard grabbed me by my hair and slammed my head against the wall.

“Anything to say now?”

I still said nothing.

The guard slammed his combat boot into my chest and the pressure exploded through me. I could barely breathe.

The guard through me back onto the chair and Edwards leaned uncomfortably close.

“How about now?”

I spat blood in his face. He backed up and wiped it away with a glare his eyes again.

The guard began to approach me and I braced myself for more pain.

But I was saved by a man in a lab coat who suddenly walked through the door.

“Forgive me for interrupting, sir,” he said to Edwards, “but we’ve finished analyzing the girl's blood sample and we’ve discovered something that I think you see.”

“Very well, Walters, what is it?”

The scientist handed him a clipboard . “Well, sir, we’ve found that her DNA is strikingly similar to that of Subject 47.”

Edward’s read through the papers on the clipboard with interest.

“Very interesting. Thank you, Walters, that will be all.” He said.

“Yes, sir.” The scientist replied and left.

Edward’s turned back to me. “Now, how is that possible?” He asked me. “As an artificially grown human, 47 has no biological relatives. Except for the other clones, of course but…not only did they never produce a female you are much too young to be one of them.”

I looked at the ground and stayed silent.

“So how could you be so closely related?” He took another look at the clipboard. “Hmm…unless….of course! Well, I can't say I didn't suspect….but I never thought…”

I knew what he was thinking, I was just waiting for him to say it.

“I suppose that answers a lot of questions, doesn't it, Ms. Burnwood?”

My whole life, only my parents had ever referred to me as a “Burnwood.” My real last name.

“Honestly, I should’ve known from the start. You have her hair…and his eyes.”

Once again, he leaned uncomfortably close but this time he backed away before I could do anything.

“Well, Ms. Burnwood, I do have other things to attend to, so I’ll decide what to do with you later.”

With that, he turned and left the tiny room, his bodyguard tied me back up, and followed him.

And now, I was alone.

The sick feeling in my stomach was weighing me down, and it wasn't from the poison.

How could she do this?

I now understood why mom had wanted me to leave the vineyard, so she could betray my father without me getting in the way.

But even so, it was still my fault I was here. Maybe I should've just gone back to the safehouse. I wonder what mom would've told me if had? Would she have told the truth? Was this all part of her even bigger plan to take down Providence?

Or was I just holding on to the idea that there had never been any betrayal and that we were a happy family.

47 and Diana may not have been your typical parents that you see on TV, but I loved them just the same. And they loved me.

One of my most vivid childhood memories was when I was about six years old. I’d had a nightmare that I been taken away by some “bad guys” and that I’d never see my parents again. When I went crying to them about it, Mom told me that our family would always be together because she would never let that happen and Dad told me that he would always protect me….

Dad! Where was my dad?! I had to find him! The scientist had said “Subject 47.” So he had to be in this building somewhere.

I closed my eyes and focused.

My heart started racing when I realized that we weren't in a building, we were on a train.

A huge train filled with security, scientists, Providence agents, and, of course, Edwards himself, all headed to who knows where!

This certainly made things more complicated.

But I didn't think about it too much, I just needed to find my dad.

He was only two cars away from me, lying on some kind of….hospital bed? I think? It was all so clouded it was hard to tell. But what I could tell was that his heartbeat was slow and he wasn't moving. He appeared to be in a coma.

I struggled against the ropes that wrapped around me, but it did nothing. I wasn't close to admitting defeat however.

I just barely managed to run my restrained hands through my hair. My bangs fell into my face once I pulled out a bobby pin.

Making a mental note to thank my father for teaching me how to pick locks, I unlocked my handcuffs and untied the ropes.

I stood up and began to unlock the door in front of me, ignoring the pain in my head and chest.

Opening the door, it was apparent that this train car was used for storage rather than passengers, there were towers of crates and boxes everywhere, and thin windows that weren't sealed very well.

I couldn't help but wonder where we were and how long I’d been out.

The last thing I could remember was fighting in Mendoza, Argentina. But the heavy blizzard outside made me think that we probably weren't in South America anymore.

Allowing myself to wonder where we were, I began to travel through the long train cars.

I ducked behind crates and hid in the shadows, and not a single person noticed me.

Dad had once told me that one of the best ways to get away with doing something wrong is to simply act like you’re not doing anything wrong.

Keeping that in mind, there were times I strolled right behind security guards and they didn't even glance at me.

But, of course once I was one car away from my dad but there was absolutely no door.

I was so close! I was right there!

To be honest, I don’t know if it was determination or desperation that willed me to keep going, but I still grabbed a hammer that was on a table and the next thing I knew, I was climbing out a nearby window and clinging to the outside wall of the train.

The moment my skin touched the numbingly cold, slippery metal and the 100MPH blizzard winds threatened to throw me off, I immediately thought I’d made a horrible decision. Nevertheless, I gripped the wall and walked across it until I found the door. I jammed the back of the hammer into the frozen-shut sliding door and used all of my strength to pry it open, it made a horrible, rough screeching noise when it did.

I scrambled inside and landed on my knees, breathing heavily and shivering from the cold.

The lab was a lot brighter than the rest of the train, with medical and science equipment everywhere. Two scientists were talking in front of a table of documents on the other side of a wall. Luckily, they hadn't noticed me

“Do you know what they plan to do with the bald guy?” One asked, not looking up from his papers.

They were definitely talking about Dad.

“I think that's classified information.” Said the other, looking through a microscope. “But once we get to Romania, they’ll probably take him to another research facility. They’ll definitely use the mind-erase serum on him too.”

Mind-erase serum? Like the one that had been used on Dad when he was younger?

I couldn't believe it. They were going to turn him into a mindless killing machine all over again.

I would not allow that to happen.

I crept across the room and hurried through the exit and shut it behind.

My heart stopped when I realized that there was a scientist staring right at me in surprise.

He grabbed his radio and shouted into it.

“Alert! Alert! There is an escaped prisoner in the subject research car! Send help immediately!”

I panicked and threw the hammer at him.

CLANG!

He collapsed.

I grabbed the hammer again and smashed the radio.

After everything, I didn't feel bad for him. All these people had chosen to be a part of Providence, so they deserved everything they got.

I took a deep breath and looked around. The “subject research car" looked exactly like the lab but at the very end of it was a smaller room separated by a glass wall and door.

Inside looked like a surgery room combined with a testing facility, complete with a hospital bed and….Dad!

I rushed over, pried open the door, and hurried to his bedside.

There were wires attached to his shirtless chest, but they didn't appear to be life support or anything like that, based on the continuous data on a nearby computer, they were simply reading and studying him.

I shook his arm, a bit rougher than I meant to, in an attempt to wake him up.

“Dad! Dad, come on! Wake up! Please, we have to get out of here! They know I'm here now, and security's on their way! But if you just wake up we can fight together! We can stay together and leave! Please, I…..I need you…”

My pleading seemed to do something, as he began to stir and mutter something under his breath. I thought he might've been talking to me, but he was just talking in his sleep.

“I'm…sorry…” He whispered.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” I asked, though I knew he wouldn't respond coherently.

“I can’t let go…”

“I….”

“I’m going to die….”

“No! Dad, don't say that!”

“I was just a tool.…”

He kept going on and on like this. Saying horrible things about himself. Things like “I’m not human" or “ I can’t fix this."

I kept trying to wake him up, trying to snap him out of it! But he didn't. And it made me feel horrid and almost….angry. How could he say these things? He couldn't possibly believe these things. But it was when he whispered, “I don’t deserve to be her father…” that I was pushed over the edge.

I needed him to listen to me but it was clear he didn't want to listen to me.

Who would he listen to? Mom?

“She wants me dead…”

Maybe not.

So who?

My eyes lit up when I realized who.

Lucas Grey. My Uncle Lucas.

What would he say in this situation?

“I deserve to die….”

I stopped, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't believe he would say this!

“Dad! Stop! Don't ever say that!”

“I deserve to die.”

I snapped.

“Are you done?” I said, harshly. I wasn't trying to be so mean, but I couldn't help it, he was just pitying himself and he needed to snap out of it!

“The toxins are playing into your fears! Don’t let them!”

At that moment, the rough, screeching noise of the sliding door could be heard through and Providence agents burst into the the room and grabbed at me.

“NO! LET ME GO!” I screamed, “DAD! WAKE UP!” But it did nothing.

Before I could attack, another needle struck the side of my neck. This sedative wasn't as strong as the one they'd used in Argentina, because I didn't fall unconscious but I still felt extremely weak and could barely stand.

The most I could do was stare at my dad as I was dragged out of the research car.

They even stopped the train so they could get to me, and then I was dragged back through the lab, through the storage cars, and to my little prisoner room, where Edwards and his bodyguard were waiting.

The other guards thrust me into my seat and tied me up again.

This time, they restrained my hands behind my back and tied my ankles together before tying me to the chair, they even dug through my hair to make sure I didn't have any more bobby pins or hair clips. I didn't.

“Well, Ms. Burnwood, you’ve certainly proven your capability to cause trouble, I suppose you are your father’s daughter after all.” Said Edwards.

I stayed silent.

“Why don't we show you what Providence does to troublemakers?”

Edwards himself left the room but his bodyguard slowly approached me with balled up fists.

Part One:

Part Two:

Part Three:

Part Four:

Part Six:

Part Seven:

[sweetsunflowerkisses]

the library.

Pairing: Loki (MCU) x Fem!Reader 

Genre: Angst (??)

Warnings: Implied Character Death , Mentions of Loki’s faked death, Descriptions of falling?, Cannon Divergence, Making a bunch of shit up about Asgardian relationships and Asgardians in general? Angst, Bad writing TvT

Summary: In your final moments you reflect on your relationship with Loki and wish that you could be back at the library with him.

Word Count: 1.9k (It’s kinda short TvT)

a/n: I was rewatching Thor and the first avengers movie and this idea popped into my head and I kinda hate myself for writing it :D Also I’m working on Secret Identities Are Hard To Keep, I promise TvT

Falling. You had always wondered what it would feel like going from a height like this. It was almost euphoric, the wind pushing against your back as you fell, carrying your tears up with it. These were your final moments, you knew that, there was no surviving a fall from this height, not even with the strength provided by the asgardian blood that ran through your veins. So you did what most people did in their final moments, reflected on how you got here.

It all started centuries ago, in the golden palace on Asgard, the place where you were raised as a noble, your father being one of the Allfather’s most trusted advisers. Your memory of those years were riddled with the overwhelming feelings of loneliness, your only company being the vast array books in the palace library. You were lonely until the day you met him.

It was a day like any other, your father was tied up in various meetings with the Allfather and other important asgardians and like always you were camped out in the library. Through the years that you had spent here it had become your safe space and in the very back in a small corner was your place of happiness there was a small emerald chaise lounge with just the right amount of light and all of the books you had ever enjoyed stacked up around it. What you didn’t expect was for someone to already be occupying your oh so sacred spot.

He was stretched out on the lounge, his thin form but tall form draping over the edge a book in hand. You knew who he was of course, you were a noble after all, the dark prince, the forgotten prince, the boy that spent his years in his brother's shadow. In all of your 400+ years you don’t think you had ever seen him so peaceful, so you did what you usually did around people, you turned to leave. What you weren’t expecting was to feel the feather light touch of a hand on your wrist.

You looked up your eyes meeting his soft green ones. You wondered how he knew about this corner, about you and your time here, but pushed the thought aside as your gazes locked. There was something there, an unspoken understanding from one outsider to the other. He smiled softly, pulling a book out of seemingly nowhere and handing it to you wordlessly. You smiled in thanks and watched as he left, his green cape swaying behind him. And that was how it started.

You would have expected falling to be something that was over quickly yet it somehow seemed like the longest moment of your life. You knew you were getting closer though, you could see the tops of other buildings now, so as you waited you went back to thinking.

After that fateful meeting your relationship with the raven haired prince slowly started to change, for nearly fifty years the two of you would simply give each other books you thought the other would like, starting off wordlessly and eventually progressing into bigger and bigger conversations until the two of you would spend hours in the library together, animatedly talking about whatever book you were interested in that day, no doubt blowing off countless responsibilities your fathers had begun to place on you now that you were growing older.

It was around a hundred years after your first meeting that your relationship crossed from friendly conversations to stolen kisses and secret meetings. The two of you were around 500 and 600 now, both preparing for your futures. Loki trained to become both a warrior and a king, despite the limited possibility of him ascending to the throne, and you training alongside Her Majesty the Queen and other female nobles, preparing to become the perfect wife and partner for the next generation of Asgardian nobles. Yet you still found time for each other, spending as much time as you could together, only finding comfort in one another.

It was when the two of you hit 900 and 800 that Loki became consumed by his anger. It was in secret of course, as most of his emotions often were, but his emotions were always something you and you alone had the privilege of seeing. By now you and the pale prince were an official couple, Odin and Frigga having blessed the relationship, allowing Loki to court you and eventually allowing the two of you to biome some form of official, not married, but official enough to be allowed to share a bedchamber without getting odd looks.

In the past Loki had always confessed his anger to you, never allowing it to influence his actions, reveling in the catharsis he achieved by ranting to you as you played with his hair, but now, as he watched his arrogant brother become more and more loved by the people, as he watched his brother be promised the throne despite his hotheadedness and obsession with being a warrior, something within him snapped. Now he would yell for hours on end, often trashing your chambers, rather than his usual soft kisses that were full of love, his kisses were messy, needy and full of all the rage he could never show. It was in everything he did every emotion tainted by the anger that masked the true emotion. But you accepted him, every bit of him and so you did what you could. You matched his energy but also reminded him that you were still there, still there to give him new books, still there to play with his hair and still there for him to lean on.

As you fell your thoughts wandered back to the present, you were nearly there, you could hear the screams below, and you could see the chitauri army and the chaos that they brought with them. You could see the faint outline of Iron Man landing on the tower and your thoughts once again returned to Loki and everything that brought you here.

After the exile of Thor and the era of Loki as King you thought maybe everything would stop, the looks and the whispers that everyone would finally stop treating Loki like he was just a liar and a danger, you yearned for and prayed for the return of the Loki you fell in love with. You were distraught when Thor returned, telling you that Loki’s ascension to the throne was all based on lies, that he had been responsible for the frost giants that had gotten in the palace, that he had tried to kill his friends, that he had tried to kill his brother. And that he was now plotting something far worse. Somehow, as much as you didn’t want to, you knew it was true, but despite everything you knew that your feelings wouldn’t change. So you fought Thor, or at least tried, not being able to actually bring yourself to deal any damage to the god, too overwhelmed with the truth of it all, so you ran. You ran back to the place where it all started, back to the library, back to your corner of safety.

You found out he was dead the next day, Thor sought you out to tell you himself, yet somehow there was the nagging feeling in the back of your brain that Thor was wrong, and boy were you right.

It was 2012 when he finally resurfaced, you had spent most of your days hiding from the asgardian population, from the prying eyes of everyone who figured you had something to do with the events of the previous year. You were once again faced with the fact that your feelings remained unchanged for him, that despite the reality of what he was doing, trying to enslave a whole population you would still do anything for him. It was Heimdall who alerted you of his return, but it was the Queen who convinced you to go to him, to try and bring back the love that you had spent nearly 600 of your years devoted to. So you did.

You landed on the rooftop of Stark Tower, admiring the pretty pattern the bifrost has burned into the gravel. It wasn’t long before Loki found you, after all the Bifrost was kinda hard to miss. It was emotional for you, seeing the man you loved after spending so long thinking he might be dead. You approached him slowly, he rushed to you in return, overjoyed at the sight of you, telling you of his grand plan, inviting you to join him, to be his queen, to rule over Midgard with him. It was tempting and for a moment, just a single moment you considered it. But you refused, nearly begging him to stop the madness, to return to you, attempting to reassure him that no matter what you would still be there, that you would still love him despite the things he’d done in the past few years. You told him how that while you didn’t quite understand everything that you could listen and love him, that you would give him everything the world never did. Yet, it was when you looked up into his eyes that you realised that something was truly wrong, that your prince might truly be gone, rather than the normal green that usually stared down at you a piercing blue met your gaze.

You backed up slowly, this was the man you loved yes but there was something else in him too, something that was evil and corrupting, something you were sure would infect you too if you joined him. And it was backing up that had been your mistake, the platform on top of Stark Tower was by no means small but you had simply landed too close to the edge, and as you stepped back you felt nothing and you began to fall.

Loki lunged, moving faster than he ever had, just barely grasping your left hand in time. And you watched as his eyes flickered in between his green and the unnatural blue and that's when you realised, he was scared. But you were slipping and his grip simply wasn’t enough. You smiled softly, knowing what was going to happen next, tears beginning to stream down your face, and with your last words you simply whispered “I love you.”.

You fell, leaving Loki only clutching air, but then he felt something else as his fist closed around the air where your hand had just been. He knew what it was almost immediately and looked down to find the gold band with a single emerald in it sat in his hand. The ring that had adorned your ring finger for the past three years, the proof that despite it all you loved him. And you smiled.

You knew it was the end now, the sound of cars and people louder than before, and you wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t been in the library that day. With your very last moments you imagined yourself on the emerald chaise, surrounded by books with Loki on your lap, playing with his hair as he read to you and you smiled for the last time