#like i wish to crawl inside the sentences enter their world and stop it

[prismelit]

you ever think about lila realising her father threw her out of a window...you ever think about how the years progressed and her mind evolved from childhood to adolescence to adulthood and coming to terms with her father doing that to her...you ever think about lila holding tina in her arms and thinking about what kind of evil it would take to throw a child out a window...

[countrymusiclover]

72 - Kai's Message

Part 73

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

"God! Can they stop kicking my bladder?" I groaned through my teeth. I had been laid up in bed for weeks now since I was reaching my final trimester of the miracle pregnancy.

Klaus vamped in the room tossing me a blood bag before he crawled into the bed beside me. "I wish I could help you, love. I don't like seeing you in pain."

"I know you don't." Raising my hand to the side of his face I ran my thumb over his stubble until for no reason I started crying. The reason I hate being a vampire. "What if something goes wrong?"

He tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue. "Rae…"

"No this is serious, Nik!" I drew my hand back shifting so I was facing him more head on. "I mean besides the fact that they most likely will have vampire, werewolf and witch blood running through their veins. How are we supposed to prepare for this? We're immortal, yes but we've never been parents before. What if I'm a bad mother and-"

He takes my hands in his, cutting me off, squeezing my hands. "Raelyn, stop it. You have nothing to worry about. You are the greatest person I have met. There's nothing you can't overcome."

"I love you.." I mumbled, snuggling my head closer into his chest. "I don't want to ever be separated from you."

He wrapped his arms around my waist as much as he could with my belly so grown where his shirts were actually almost fitting me now. "I love you too. And if that were to ever come to pass. I know that you and I would do everything in our power to get back to one another."

Entering the dining area near the college I saw Caroline who waved us over. Jacob and I were in charge of the girls including his baby daughter. Hayley had asked for Cami's help in locating the next cure so they didn't stay in town long. Sliding into the booth I smiled at my friend. "Hey Care, so what's going on?"

"Damon apparently went into your uncle's house and found these. He was looking for something called the Ascendant." She laid pictures of Jo as a kid out of the table. One photo had her and Kai wearing Christmas sweaters together.

Jacob and I shared a silent glance until Alina spoke up, hitting her hands on the table. "That's in Jo's dresser. We've seen it!"

"Okay…what's it supposed to do?" She asked shifting her gaze back up to us.

Andrea was scribbling on a coloring page sitting in my brother's lap. "It's the key to a prison world. Our uncle Joshua created it. And our mother helped banish Jo's twin there."

"Because he killed four of his siblings and wanted to be the Coven leader." Caroline finished his sentence.

Raising a brow at her I wasn't following. "Yeah uh how exactly do you know that?"

"Jo told me at Friendsgiving. Right when we apparently met her other siblings Luke and Liv." Caroline said.

Sucking in a breath it was starting to make sense why my uncle suddenly showed up and wanted the Coven power back. "And if Damon showed up at his house looking for it then my uncle thought that he was trying to help me release him. That's why he showed up here the other day wanting me to give him the power."

"Wait, you talked about releasing him. If he gets out he will kill Jo." Jacob whipped his head around in shock.

Turning my head in his direction I slumped my shoulders. "I'm aware, J. It wasn't going to happen. I just threatened him that I would if he came after my kids again."

"Geez Rae." He ran a hand through his hair before my vision began to blur in front of me for some reason. Gripping the table in my hands I collapsed over.

"Mommy!" Hope and Missy cried out seeing that I had blacked out.

Blinking my eyes open I rose to my feet. I looked around recognizing the Gemini house in front of me. Walking inside the house I gasped actually being able to go over the threshold. “We meet again, siphon girl.”

“Kai!” I gasped stumbling into the doorway seeing him standing in front of me with Bonnie being dragged behind him. “Bonnie, are you okay?”

She winced. “Raelyn, what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know why, but I can help you.” I raised my hand but when I attempted to throw fire at him it didn’t work at all.

Kai smiled wickedly, he released his hold on Bonnie striding up to me. “Magic is hard isn’t it, Raelyn…Now I have a bone to pick with you actually that you are here.”

“Urgh Kai!” I grunted when he shoved me against the wall holding my hands above my head.

He got up in my face whispering a threat. “I don’t like you very much. You see I have heard about your great power from Bonnie over there. And I am frustrated that you said you would release me and then you backed out.”

“How do you know about that?” I questioned knowing he shouldn’t know.

Kai moved his hands around my neck. “When you did your little power transfer back to my dear old dad. I saw your memories. So just know this Raelyn….Kai Parker is coming to town.” He snapped my neck with me blacking out again.

“Oh my god, Rae!” Caroline was on the ground when I shot awake. She grabs my shoulders with me seeing my daughters all looking at me horrified.

I slumped my shoulders, regaining what had just happened to me. I hadn’t blacked out to the prison world since I turned into a vampire. “I just saw Kai….”

“Did he say something?” Jacob asked, still holding onto his daughter.

“He said he’s coming to Mystic Falls and he’s going to use Bonnie to do it.”

Caroline sighed offering me her hand tugging me up to stand. “I think you and Jacob need a night of fun. Considering you two have done nothing but chase down leads and deal with helping us save Bonnie.”

“What about the girls? We can’t take them to a bar?” Jaocb asked the blonde vampire.

She smiled, intertwining her hand with mine and Jaocb’s. Missy was coloring with Andrea. Hope and Alina were watching our conversation even though they didn’t understand what was happening. “Simple compulsion Jacob. Because I can tell you no one on campus takes vervain so we have the green light.”

“Okay, okay. But then we have to find a way to bring Bonnie back. She is one of your best friends after all.” Holding my hands up I told the blonde knowing she missed her as much as Elena.

Caroline threw her hands up in the air and we all followed her down the street to the nearest bar. “Exactly but let’s go have drinks.” Even on our way I couldn’t shake the feeling that if Kai came into town it wouldn’t end well for anyone who got in his way from what Jo had told me.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[raineydays411]

Oh, what am I supposed to do without you

Loki x daughter!reader

Summary: Loki thought he was in a good place. He was married, happy and having a child. He should’ve known the universe wasn’t that kind.

A/N: God I’m so sorry about this one lol. Not much of the reader but I will be  making a second part. I hope yall like this one though. Inspiration came from “Mr, Loverman” and this fic.

Master list

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The silence was rattling. It creeped into the room, slowly,menacingly. Threatening to make him go mad. It wrapped around his body like a familiar friend. Making it hard for him to breath as it suffocated him. He knew they were staring at him. Trying to figure out what he would do next, whether he would break or not. Truthfully he didn’t know what he would do. For now he just starred as well. Not at them, of course not. He stared at the one thing that mattered. His reason for waking up and living. The one person in this entire universe who gave his world color. He reached out to touch her. Touch the hands that were always so warm against his cold skin. Hands that held his firm and sure as she pulled him along behind her, a smile on her beautiful face. Hands that were now cold and limp, the radicant glow she had been known for gone dark. The colors she brought to his world dimmed to dull, gre, muted hues. Then a sound broke through the silence. two sounds actually. One a wail of new life, a baby taking her first breaths, and another. A wail of a man who has lost everything. A wail of agony and pain.

As the healers bustled around him, Loki had only one thought in his head. 

“What am I supposed to do without you”

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

Three months later and Loki still felt the emptiness left by his love. He heard her at night, humming sweet melodies as she stroked his hair. He hears her heartbeat as he eventually falls asleep, worn out by his constant tears. His room is in shambles, his clothes strewn about the floor, furniture smashed, everything is destroyed. Except for the things that belong to her. Her silk dresses that draped on her body perfectly were still hanging, untouched. The books she spent hours reading and re-reading remained on the shelf, collecting dust as they were no longer used. He doesn’t let anyone in their chambers. The space where they both shared. Space where they fought, made up, made love. To let someone else in would be tainting it. Soiling the memories they made together. That was one thing he could never do.

Another was look at the little monster who is responsible for this tragedy.

It was a girl. The daughter of one Loki Odinson and his beloved. 

Ironic. This child was supposed to bring happiness with its birth. Not even cleaned and it already managed to take away Loki’s light. He can barely stand looking at it. He tried, of course  he tried. But within minutes he had to call the nurse to take it away. Why? 

Because she has her mothers eyes.

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

“Loki”

“Get out”

“Loki, it's been nine months since your child was--”

“THAT THING IS NO CHILD OF MINE”

Frigga was taken aback. She knew her son was heartbroken, devastated at the loss of his wife. But to disown his daughter, that was something she didn’t see coming. 

“Loki, you are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? My wife has died because if that creature--”

“It is a child. A babe who has no idea who her father nor her mother is.”

“And as far as I’m concerned she never will!” Loki shouts, finally looking up at his mother. 

Frigga heart breaks for her son. She sees the utter agony he is in, the inner torment going on in his soul. Even if she didn’t see it in his face, the state of his room and self gives it away. He looks like he hasn’t bathed in the nine months that has passed. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, hair unkempt and wild. His face was pale and hollow, as if he was only eating enough to survive. He had dark bags under his eyes that showed that he hasn’t been sleeping well.  He truly was a man who was broken, almost beyond repair. 

“My son” Frigga said carefully,” I can never understand the pain you are going through, I pray to Valhalla I will not have to anytime soon. But please if not for yourself or that child, for the memory of her, attempt to see your daughter before making a rash decision.” And with that, she walked out of his chamber, leaving Loki to the silence again as he stared at the spot his mother stood. considering her words, he got up. picked up his room, went to bathe and walked out of the room for the first time in nine months. 

His face held no emotion as he walked down the hallways. He saw the servants stop and stare at him, shock filled their face as they saw the prince. He glared at them, sending them scurrying at the dark glance. He reached the nursery, the maid who oversaw the nursery tried to stop him. 

“My lord, you--” 

“Where is the child.” He said, calm and cool. The maid looked at him in fear, not knowing how to respond. At her silence, Loki scoffed and pushed her away, marching into the nursery. Upon entering he froze, memories of him and his beloved discussing the design they wanted for their child

**“Darling, why does the color shade matter? It’s not like the child has expectations.”

Laughter fills the air, “Loki, we must put every effort into showing our child they are loved. That includes finding the perfect shade of green to go with the room”

Loki looks at his wife, gently smiling.”If you say so my dear”**

The room was perfect. The walls were a beautiful shade of green that allowed the light into the room. There were vines and flowers crawling up the walls and draped over curtains. A white and gold crib stood in the middle of the chamber. A veil draped over it, preventing Loki from seeing the child inside. He was thankful as he worked up the courage to walk up to it. He looked out the window, seeing the stars that covered the sky, the lights of Asgard covering the earth. 

She would have loved it.

He took a deep breath and walked toward the crib. He pulled back the veil only to see that there was no child in there. 

“The babe is with your mother my lord.”

He turned to the maid. Embarrassed that she might have witnessed him reminiscing.

“And where is my mother” He asked

“In-in the dining hal--” 

He walked away before she was able to finish her sentence. He took long strides to the hall, wondering his his mother had tricked him into eating with the family.On the way, he passed a window overlooking the garden. He thinks of the times where he used to sit in it and listen to her read.

***  “...exquisite, in question more. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows”

“My love, why do you insist on reading these midgardian stories?”

Her laughter  reaches his ears, “Because beloved, it's a different perspective to something familiar”

“Oh? and what is that ?” 

“Love”  ***

“oki--”

Hearing his name, Loki is brought back to present times once more. He looks to see Thor, watching him with careful eyes. 

“Brother, it is wonderful to see you.”

“I wish I can say the same.”

Thor laughs, a soft chuckle compared to the booming laughter Loki knows he is capable of. 

“Ah Loki, your dry wit has been missed”

Loki rolls his eyes and starts walking and Thor follows. The two walking in silence. 

“What is it like?” Loki says softly. Thor looks at him in confusion.

“It?” 

“The child.”

“Oh brother, Y/n is--”

“Y/n?” 

That was the name she wanted. If they were to have a girl. She was determined, seeing the name in the book she loved to read. He remembers when they were telling his family she was with child.

*** Everyone was seated, servants bustling around the long table. Laughter filled the hall as the sun was setting. 

“Loki, you said you had news to tell us” Frigga said, taking a sip of her wine. 

Loki smiled, looking at his wife. Her face absolutely radiant as she flashes a smile of pure joy.

“ Well,” Loki waits till Thor has taken a large swig of ale, “ My beloved and are are expecting a child.” 

Gasps fill the room as well as Thor's hacking, ale being spewed on the table. 

“Oh Loki that is wonderful!!”  Frigga exclaims standing from her seat to embrace him. “Oh my dear, this is the most wonderous news,” 

“BROTHER I can’t believe it!” Thor exclaims, lifting Loki in a crushing hug. And for once, he didn’t mind it.  He turns to her and hugs her more gently. “ You are just full of surprises aren’t you, starlight”

Laughter, “Thor, I thought I told you to stop calling me that”

Silence fills the hall as Odin clears his throat, “ Loki, you have made me proud.”

Loki smiles as his love beams at him. 

“Thank you father.”**

They reached the dining hall. A cold feeling formed in the pits of his stomach. He can see his mother, talking with a maid as she bounces the child. He can’t see it, as Frigga's back is turned to him. Odin’s presence is notably absent, a small relief on Loki's part. 

Thor notices his brother’s nerves, he pats him on the back and says, “You can do this Loki.” Then walks off to join his mother. He kisses his mothers cheek and smiles at the child. He picks her up, bouncing her a few times  prompting a small laugh. Loki gimances at the sound. 

Thor walks up to him with the baby. 

“Loki, this is Y/n Odinson”

He looks at the child. He takes in its features, Beautiful curly hair, already thick and voluminous even at this age. Brown skin, unblemished and clean. Cheeks, chubby with baby fat. And...its eyes. Those damn eyes, he could barely stand it, (e/c) eyes, the same as his lost love. In fact, almost all it’s features that once belonged to his darling. A pain filled his body. He really couldn’t stand looking at this child. 

Not when his beloved wasn’t there to gaze upon their child as well. 

No, this was not his child. Not anymore. 

“Get rid of it.” 

Shock filled the faces of both Thor and Frigga. 

“Loki you cannot be serious.”

“Brother..”

“I SAID GET RID OF IT” Loki shouts. “I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT LITTLE MONSTER.” 

And with that he leaves the dining hall. Leaving behind  his mother, brother and the last piece of his wife he had. He hears it’s cries fill the silence.

He had only one thought in his head as he entered his chambers.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

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[starshipsofstarlord]

Those who fell - Natasha Romanoff x reader x Gamora

Masterlist link

Summary; in life and death, the three of you are able to unite, and make the most of the time that the sacrifices of your lives have given you

Warnings; smut, threesome, oral sex (female receiving obviously), strap on sex, tribbing, fingering, mentions of death, angst

divider by @firefly-graphics

Gamora sunk her strap into your cunt, as Nat, your friend and fellow avenger clambered upon your face, sinking her pussy down onto your awaiting tongue as you hum satisfyingly at the taste of her silken essence. The green woman began to thrust as her hands secured their grip onto your waist, the red strap on affirming penetration consistently in and out of your walls.

You had all lost everything; life, lovers, hope, and thus all you had now was the sentence of rejoicing in your freedom from all the fabrications of the complications that were in regards to being alive. Natasha had faith that her and your family were to succeed in their mission, they were heroes, and they had saved you both from yourselves once upon a time, many long moons ago.

“Y/n.” Nat scrambled out your name as she rocked her hips against your face, spreading her juices down to the sides of your cheeks, you shook your head as you attached your mouth around her clit, enforcing a squeal to beckon out of her plump lips, as she bit on them, lost in the pleasure that you were granting them. Life had been cruel and deceiving, there was no light at the end of the tunnel, and thus, similar to now, you were responsible for crafting your own.

At the sound of your name, Gamora upped her pace, her emerald hands digging into the thickness of your thighs as she delved deeper within you, extracting a moan from you, that rumbled up and through Natasha’s body. “Shit, don’t stop ‘Mora.” Your words were muffled by the purchase of Natasha fucking herself down onto your face, but the message, though pursed together, was clear. You wanted more, and she, as a guardian of the galaxy, was here to help, and take partially for herself.

And the one thing that she was to be stealing was your orgasm, as she pulled away, as she had done to her own father, rejecting him and his ill wishes, removing the fake cock from inside of you, watching as your legs quivered for attention. Whines spurred out from your throat, peeking through Natasha’s body like shots of lightning cursing vigilantly through her. “Patience, I have something better; much better.”

She disengaged the harness from around her legs and waist, allowing the support to drop to the floor as she shuffled closer, hooking her palm around the curve and inside of your knee, bracing it to some height, as she steadied herself in the air, her feet prompting her against gravity, as she lowered her own cunt upon yours, descending the swell of her clit against the hood of yours, rubbing the skin grafted fabrics together, recalling tears in your eyes as you submitted to the pleasure.

Your own hands strayed from Nat’s hips, running down the crevice of her thighs as you looked up to her, the shadow of her full breasts blocking most of your view, trailing your fingertips down to prod at her swept aside labia, stroking the earnest and moist lips with the pads of your fingers, as you switched the position of your tongue upwards, so that it was flicking and delivering harsh sucks to her sensitive clit.

With your right hand, you swiped through her swollen folds, rasping in the feeling of Gamora’s pussy moving swiftly upon your own, as you entered a finger into the red head, listening intently as your name was preached from her rosy lips. You hummed at the taste of the assassin, softly shaking your head beneath her, as she tentatively ground down, revelling in the pleasure that you were basking upon her.

Gamora threw her black and red hair back, her lids closing as she felt your clit twitch at her notions, as you tried to grind back up against her. With hooded eyes, she watched as your tits softly swayed under the pressure that both women were laying upon your body; you were in absolute bliss, distracting yourself from the fall that had lead you all to be here. You had tried to save Nat, Clint was so focused on doing the same that he didn’t even have a chance of saving you as you descended, and he was left to survive of watching Natasha let go of his hand, wanting to save at least one life out of your iconic trio.

Even in the afterlife, the two of you remained together, fulfilling every fantasy that you had about the other. You had found Gamora lurking, lost in this imprisonment of a world, ashamed of having lead Thanos to Vormir, but proud that she had gotten her sister’s life spared. She was always the favourite, but here, she wasn’t judged upon her combat skills; rather instead there were other skills required to keep the pair of you happy and content, and she was more than eager to oblige.

The situation and those in the past were nothing more than distractions to the prospect of life that you were all missing out on. And like a white light, the same which she had seen whence her head had been unforced by a harsh impact to the behind, Natasha felt herself unravel. When she was done lulling in the glow of her orgasm, the redhead climbed off from your face, watching with flushed cheeks as you and Gamora went at it. Without her reducing your breaths, you were pursuing the thrill of the chase like animals, huffing and growling as you eagerly smashed your hips together, with intwined legs.

There was wetness spooling out from the main crevice of contact, spreading down your thighs as you and Gamora endlessly ground your folds and furthermore together, throwing your necks back as you leant in a stretch to get the best angle of stimulation. Nat found herself crawling closer as she pressed her lips to yours, delving her tongue within your mouth as your own swirled around the intrusion of hers, allowing her a second hand taste of her sweetness. Her hands ran down and pinched your nipples, evoking the image of fluttering eyelashes upon your face, as you grew mad with pleasure, spasming against Gamora as you joined her juices with her own.

A heavy sigh lifted from her chest as she untangled her legs from your own, turning over onto her front as she crawled towards you, smacking your legs apart as she took in the view of your pussy that was clenching around nothing, and the painted in her own cum, that was perfectly intermingled with the excess of your own. Out from the corner of your eye, as you passionately kissed Nat, you watched the enchantress, as she snuck her head in a closer vicinity to your personal parts, darting her tongue out to collect the blend of fulfilment, bringing her hand up to rub your clit as she ate you out.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled against Natasha’s mouth as your sensitive cunt took in more pleasure, despite practically having just came under the whim of the same woman that was tending to your will of overcoming a settlement of self mourning, reducing you to atoms of sweat and a heated body as her tongue rolled around your centre, Natasha nibbling on your tongue in the meanwhile. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” And you did, as you rolled your hips against Gamora’s face.

Natasha left you as she went in search of the strap, discovering it with a pleasant smile, as she put it on herself without aid, sending you a tender look as her eyes ran over your stimulated form. She grasped onto Gamora’s leant ass, as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as she knelt behind the woman, leaving the two in the doggy position. Nat grabbed the harnessed dildo with a gentle hand, rubbing against the hood of Gamora’s clit, as you shuffled back, and bent your knees upwards, absentmindedly fondling with your button, despite the growing burn in the bead of muscle.

Beginning to thrust into the guardian, Nat became rough, a tense and affirmative expression taking over her face, whilst Gamora wore one of dazed eyes and an agape mouth. It was quite the show, more so as Nat clapped her hand down on the other woman’s backside, pulling a strangled sound out of her throat. Perhaps being dead wasn’t so bad if you were to be gifted with the freedom of performing such erotic acts without a crunch of time and saving the world, but you missed your friends, this again, whilst being a grave fantasy, was a way to forget about them all, even if it be only momentarily.

“Natasha!” At the sound of her name, you remembered the way Clint would say it as he was piloting at the front of the quintet with her, or how Thor would formally greet her. Your hand went slack as you mulled over the memories, it felt like you were being stabbed in the chest. As Gamora was rendered through an orgasm by the black widow herself, you felt yourself cry, wanting nothing more, despite it being a gruelling task, than to fight, hell, even go through another accords. Anything was better than being dead.

feedback is always appreciated 💙

[folkloreguk]

❥ My Sweet Evil Heart (C.Chanhee)

A/N: I wrote this as part of an angel/demon collab for The Boyz! You can find the masterlist HERE. This was really fun to write and I got to live out my alternate universe dream in which I'm a detective...I hope you like it, I'm always welcome to any form of feedback!

genre: demon!Chanhee, detective!reader, angst, fluff, reader is constantly sleep deprived, Chanhee is the sweetest demon ever

synopsis: You, a highly respected detective in your department, are investigating a case of a very strange demon who seems hesitant to do evil...but can you trust someone who is supposed to be the personification of wickedness?

words: ~ 10.6k

Have you ever met someone deeply unhappy? Someone who seems to, at all times, be fighting a war inside of themselves? Have you ever felt empathy for somebody, even though they tested you, over and over, as if the worst part inside of them was trying to make them lose you on purpose? Did you hold on and never stop believing in them? Or did you say something to drive them away, making them think they would only hurt you in the process of you trying to make them see clearer?

This is the story of a demon, whose every cell demurred at his evil nature. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with the basics.

Being one of the head detectives at the local police station was not an easy-going, nor an amusing job. Whilst working on serious cases, lacking proper sleep was not an uncommon occurrence for you, and in some instances, self-care came up short until the mystery had been solved and the guilty ones were locked away. Every case pulled you in and swallowed you whole, keeping you deeply invested for days and nights until your brain felt like it had turned to mush and your body worked on autopilot, until you functioned a little like a highly intelligent zombie. And yet, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. The thrill was close to an obsession, and seeing justice being served thanks to your work was more addicting than any drug could ever be to you.

Most crimes in your world were committed by demons, of course. They were your worst enemies, the monsters you saw in your nightmares and the reason you never strolled down a street without a gun by your hip. It wasn’t forbidden for them to walk the earth, so long as they kept to themselves. Their evil nature made it almost impossible for them to uphold these terms, though. You wished you could lock them all away in some putrid prison cell, or better yet, send them back to where they crawled out from originally. But the law couldn’t convict beings before they had done anything wrong. So, it was on you to make sure you kept an eye on the sinister beings, figure out what they were up to and stop them before they could actually hurt somebody. Like that morning, when you were called to a liquor store to investigate a break-in.

“My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, I am the lead investigator,” you greeted the store owner with a handshake upon arrival. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“I came here this morning at around 7 to open up the store. When I got out of my car, I saw the broken glass of the window,” he explained.

“What was taken from inside the store?” you inquired further.

“That’s the weird thing. Nothing is missing from inside,” he said.

“We might just be dealing with vandalism,” you thought out loud. “Do you have security cameras?”

He did, and so you went along with him to the back of the store. It was true, the interior of the shop seemed completely untouched. You suspected whoever had done this had never even intentioned on entering. There was a college campus not too far from the store, and you recalled countless times you had witnessed careless vandalism done by some intoxicated students during a Friday night. It was a very human-like crime. Demons weren’t known to do things by halves. Their crimes were usually the go-big-or-go-home-type of crimes. But then, when you watched the security footage, you were stunned.

At precisely 3:29 am, a dark figure appeared in front of the window. They lifted their arms, swinging a baseball bat against the glass. And against your speculation, they did climb through the hole in the window. With no mask or disguise whatsoever, the demon man looked right into the camera in the corner of the room. The abyss of darkness in his pitch black eyes was unmistakable. He looked around, as if he was debating on whether he should have done more, but then, to your utter confusion, spun around on his heel and climbed right back out the window.

You assured the store owner you would be looking into this case. With nothing left to do, you headed back to the police station. You had taken the security footage with you, and the moment you arrived in your office, you played it on your computer screen. Over and over - only puzzling you more, with each rerun you saw. You worried this might only be a warning. Not seldom had you been a witness to demons playing with their prey, feeding off the fear of innocent souls. Was this one indulging in one of those little twisted games? Right away, you uploaded the demon’s face onto the database for criminals, even if vandalism didn’t compare to the serious allegations that stood against other faces on that list. While you turned your attention to other cases, his features wouldn’t leave your mind. Even when you left your office at night, he was still the most prominent person in your memory.

By the time you began your walk to your home, the sun had disappeared. You couldn’t help it, even if technically you could finish work earlier, your desire to solve your assigned cases was always higher. Had you just walked home at 5 pm, you were sure to end up on your computer at home, researching and digging around on the web to discover possible clues. This way, at least you had all resources you would need at your office at the police station.

Now, in the dark, the streets were rather abandoned, most shops had already closed, and the moon dimly cast light through the clouds. Those conditions were what made it a breeze for you to notice your shadow. The figure had been following you for 5 minutes now. Judging by how carelessly loud their steps sounded and by their not-so subtle choices of hiding spots, you could tell this wasn’t something they had practice in. Purposely, you didn’t turn around, so they wouldn’t realize you had caught on to them a while ago. Instead, only a minute or so from your home, you took a turn left into an abandoned alleyway. Your hand was on the gun in your belt.

Just as you had stepped into the alley, you turned. He was right behind you. With dark orbs glaring and teeth snarling he came at you, knife in hand. Your eyes widened – you recalled his face vividly – as you took in the situation in the blink of an eye. After all, you had watched the security tape of him breaking into the liquor store countless times only hours ago. But you had the upper hand from the very moment you had spun around. His build wasn’t particularly strong, but you knew you should never underestimate demons. You grabbed his shoulders and along with him, your body crashed against the red brick wall to your left. He struggled against your grip, but his determined and feisty expression was the by far the most intimidating part about him. His face was inches from yours but looking into the sort of darkness that were demon’s eyes did nothing to you. Your hand was around his wrist with the knife – which he was aggressively trying to bring down on you – but only at first.

Because suddenly, something uncommon occurred. So uncommon, in fact, that not a single cell in your body could believe it. He willingly dropped the blade. It hit the asphalt, the metallic sound echoing in your ears. He relaxed his arm in your iron grip. Demons never gave up. They fought until you had forcefully brought them to the ground or done worse to them. Their ironic god-complex and evilness didn’t allow them to step away from a fight – until this one had come along, apparently. And then, as if his behavior hadn’t already stunned you enough, he did the unthinkable.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Without a doubt you thought you had misheard him. Swiftly, you pulled your gun out of your belt and pointed it at his face. One thing you knew. You weren’t going to play along in his little games. In panic, he rose his hands, showing defeat.

“Quit playing games, devil’s son,” you hissed. “What is it you’re trying to achieve here? You’re sorry? For what?”

He was hesitant. With every second, your curiosity only grew. Either, he was a skilled actor or…you had no idea what else it could’ve been about him.

“I almost killed you. That’s what I’m sorry for,” he said. “Does that get me a prison sentence?”

Your eye twitched because this didn’t seem right at all.

“You broke into a shop and attacked me, but then stopped out of your free will,” you assessed the situation. “You’ll most likely get away with a fine and your name in our register.”

If you had been awaiting an evil grin or any sort of enjoyment in his face, you’d be waiting endlessly. If anything, he seemed to be…disappointed?

“But you’re a cop, right?” he said. “You can lock me up, can’t you?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? You won’t be locked up if you don’t commit a crime severe enough. As much as I hate it, considering you demons are running free, it’s the law,” you said.

“You don’t get it,” he said. And he was right, you really had no idea. “I should be locked up. You need to get me to jail before I hurt somebody.”

His face was dead serious, but you didn’t want to believe a single word. How could you, when your daily life consisted of hunting down his kind, because all they brought upon the earth was chaos and death?

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” you said, unimpressed.

“I will tell you anything you want to hear,” he said. “If you bring me to a police station. You guys have these lie detectors, don’t you? I will take a test if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

~

So, that was how half an hour later you still hadn’t returned at home, but rather found yourself back at the police station. Almost everyone had gone home by now, so you took the liberty to choose the biggest interrogation room available. A few minutes and he was sitting in front of you, hands in handcuffs and his body connected to the lie detector.

“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll start by asking some simple questions, and then we’ll get to the bottom of whatever your intentions are,” you explained.

“Alright. Go ahead,” he said. This was your first time seeing a demon take this sort of test. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered because you knew all they did was lie whilst smiling you in the face.

“What’s your name?”

“Choi Chanhee.”

“Where were you born?”

“In hell.”

“Did you break into a liquor store last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intend on killing me tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Is that your definite answer?”

“…No.”

“How come both of your last two answers are lies?” you asked. “You didn’t intend on killing me, but yes is your definite answer?”

“I can’t stop the evil in me but I’m trying,” he said. You were stunned. The answer was the most truthful of them all.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I was never like the others since I came to earth. I’ve never felt a rush like they do, causing mischief and hurting humans. I don’t belong. It’s as if there was a demon inside of me, but it’s not controlling all of me, do you understand?” he said.

“I’m not sure, but go on,” you said.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody or destroy things. But on some days, I’m walking down the street and my body starts following the devil’s orders instead. I usually snap out of it quickly and stop myself. That’s why you’re still alive,” he explained.

“You’re telling me you’re some sort of good demon?” you asked. “Why don’t you go back to hell, if you’re struggling so much on earth?”

“I hate it there,” he said. “And either way, I’m banned from there forever.”

Your head raised as you stared at him.

“Banned?” you asked.

“I stopped a bunch of demons from killing a woman once,” he said. “Safe to say they weren’t happy to hear that, back at home. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted to.”

“Can you tell me the name of the woman?” you asked. And he did. All this time, he really had been telling the truth. When you searched up the woman’s name in the computer, it only confirmed your suspicion. She really had been under attack when an unidentified person had interrupted and saved her life.

“I can tell you names of demons,” he said. “If you do me the favor of locking me up, I can sell out everyone I know about.”

You massaged the sides of your head and sighed. This guy really was one of a kind.

“I already told you, I can’t put you in jail for something you didn’t do,” you said. “That’s against the law, and then it’ll be me who ends up behind bars instead of you. I’ll have to let you go.”

“What if I mess up?” he said. The amounts of firsts you were experiencing in the timespan of an hour were giving you a headache. Never had you felt compassion for a demon before. But you were only human, and when you noticed the genuine concern and insecurity in his soft voice, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“How long have you been on earth for?” you asked.

“I don’t know, a few years, I guess?” he said.

“And in those few years, which of your deeds would you rate the most criminal out of all?” you asked. Any other demon would have been able to give you multiple answers, one more vicious than the other. He, on the other hand, took his time and even when he answered, he didn’t sound at all sure.

“I’ve broken into a house before, destroyed a car window and one time I stole a dog,” he confessed with his head tilted towards the floor.

“What happened to the dog?”

“I…gave it back,” he said. A laughter erupted from your throat against your will. In a friendly manner, you pat his shoulder before retrieving the keys to his handcuffs.

“Trust me, you’ll be just fine out there,” you said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to stop yourself from being evil, it’s working. I will let you go now."

Even though he wasn’t happy with your answer, he knew he had no choice but to comply. As you walked him through the hallways towards the exit of the station, you could only think of one thing: your beloved bed. Not only your body but especially your brain was drained from energy. You desperately needed a refill by getting a good night’s sleep.

“You’re the first person who’s been really kind to me,” he said, as you held the door open for him. The night air was cool, and you quickly zipped up your jacket to your chin.

“You gave me no reason not to be,” you replied.

“I almost stabbed you,” he said, bluntly.

“Almost.”

“For most people, me being a demon is reason enough to loathe me.”

“Well I guess I’m not most people,” you said. His smile was gentle, but his black eyes would always give him away. “I’ll be here at the station every day, if you have any concerns or need somebody to consult. But right now, all I want is my bed.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Good night,” you said, before you parted ways. Once more, you journeyed home. He remained on your mind until the moment you slipped off to dreamland that night.

~

The days passed without a trace of him. You followed your routine, but one thing you couldn’t help. You simply had to tell every person who worked with you about the changed demon you had met. No one really wanted to believe you. It was kind of understandable. Some thought you were testing their skills, seeing if they could figure out you were lying. Others went as far as to suspect your lack of sleep had given you hallucinations. But you didn’t let it go. And after all, you were a highly respected member of the police force. Some said they wanted to meet this demon gentleman, as they had renamed him.

But then you were called to a brand new homicide investigation and all of the jokes at the station were blown away by the intensity and buzz the case brought with it. You had a murder to solve. There was no place for sweet demon men in any part of your brain. Not for now. And as always, you slipped into old habits – staying up all night, living on coffee and quick meals – the toxic behavior was almost inescapable. Your fellow detectives tried their best to keep you healthy and most importantly, sane. They took you with them to get salad for lunch, invited you over for game nights (a futile attempt at giving you a break) and told you to go to sleep on time. After all, they needed your brain to function at full capacity for the case. You knew people were relying on your knowledge, and you weren’t doubting your capabilities. But a highly intelligent zombie was still a zombie. And so it happened that one Thursday night your boss sent you home. Not because you weren’t doing a good job – rather for of the opposite reason.

“You are allowed back at the station when you’ve caught a full night’s sleep. Do what it takes to take care of yourself,” your boss had said. Her tone displayed as much strictness as her eyes showed concern. Truth be told, you were too exhausted to even argue against her order. That’s when you knew. You really needed a rest. You dragged your body home.

“Hello sweetheart,” you greeted your pet bird, who chirped excitedly when you set foot into your apartment. “Guess what. I’m home early.”

As much as you wanted to drop into a slumber right away, your stomach growled. And you weren’t in the mood to wake up half-starved. As you prepared some left-overs from the fridge, you heard your bird call from the living room. “Peek-a-boo!” he sang. It caught your attention. He only played this game with you – when you were outside in your small garden and he was watching you through the window. So who exactly was he talking to, now?

You picked up a knife, because as a detective it was practically your job to be paranoid, and tiptoed into the living room. It would be harder for an intruder to spot you in the dark, so you pushed the light switch. Slowly, you advanced to the window and gently pulled the curtains aside. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw the figure standing between the trees. They didn’t seem to be hiding, if anything they were lazily resting their back against the garden fence. Maybe they weren’t aware you were watching them. Bold of them to assume they could intimidate you by acting so nonchalant. You cracked the window open slightly.

“If you don’t leave my property within the next ten seconds, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” you announced. The figure flinched. The moment he stepped into the moonlight and raised his arms, you remembered his face.

“Choi Chanhee?” You opened the terrasse door and stepped outside.

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked, eyes glued to the knife in your hands. Quickly, you lowered your hand.

“What are you doing here?” you asked instead of answering his question.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted.

“And so you thought creeping around in a police woman’s backyard was an appropriate thing to do? Wait…have you been stalking me?” you asked. You should have cut back on the sharp tone, but you felt half-asleep and this was the last thing you needed. Plus, the immanent realization hit you, that you had not noticed him at all. You had been so caught up in your work that you had not recognized a demon lingering around your home address, watching you. It hurt your pride a little – and could have ended very differently, had it been a more malovent demon than the one standing in front of you. This one looked terrified, kneading his hands nervously.

“I thought you wouldn’t be upset with me…that maybe you would understand. Because you’ve been the only one who’s listened to me. I’m just trying to find a purpose,” he said, “And my head tells me you’re the right direction.”

Demons. They’ve always had a fondness for the dramatic. But his words tore at your heart strings. His behavior resembled a child who had done wrong and was in the process of being scolded.

“Do you have no home?” you asked, softening your voice.

“I’ve lived with other demons. But they don’t want me there, anymore,” he said. For obvious reasons, you thought. Your head was racing. There was no way you could leave him standing there in the cold. But letting a demon into your home sounded like you must have had a death wish. It’s not like you didn’t have enough space, though. With an extra guest bedroom that nobody had ever used before, he would be just fine. There was no excuse. You cursed your parents for making you get a bigger apartment “In case you got married and had children soon.” You never know what could happen, they had said. And how wrong they had been, but how right they had been on that last part.

“Would you say you’re a tidy person?” you asked. A gigantic yawn came over you, and once again your stomach grumbled.

“What? I mean…I think so?” he said.

“Are you hungry?” You were in disbelief. Maybe it was the zombie in you that had a heart so soft, it took pity on a demon.

“I’m starving,” he said.

And that was how you came to have dinner with a demon. Spoiler alert: It wouldn’t be the last time. You ate quietly, trying hard to fight tiredness but it was no use. Afterwards, you showed him the room he could stay in.

“How do I make this up to you?” he asked.

“We’ll think about that another time, alright?” you said, “I need to sleep now. I’ve got an unsolved murder case waiting on me tomorrow.”

That night, you locked your bedroom door and slept with your gun on your nightstand. Just in case. Even though you were almost fully convinced the demon in the bedroom across the hall was more harmless than a five-year-old, he was still a demon.

~

When you woke up and saw your boss’ message on your phone, you couldn’t believe it. She wanted you to stay at home for the day. Apparently, you needed the rest and she had no interest in getting into trouble for overworking you (which she obviously wasn’t, you were the one doing this to yourself). When you walked down the stairs, you had almost forgotten about the previous night. It felt a little like it had all just been one wild fever dream – that was, until you spotted the demon sitting on your sofa, your pet bird on his shoulder.

“I let him out, I hope that was okay,” he said. You were dumbfounded. “Listen, I just wanted to say…thank you. Tell me whatever you need me to do and I’ll get it done for you.”

You wanted to go to work. But you knew he would be no help making that possible. Your mind was already wandering off to your case, the tips of your fingers burning with anticipation to search the internet for clues. Your grumbling belly interrupted your eagerness.

“Um…you could go to the grocery store for me?” you asked.

~

You went back to work the next day. Unsure of what to do, you decided to keep your demon housemate a secret for now. The other detectives would have probably written you off as insane, and you needed them to take you seriously. To be fair, maybe you were a little crazy. But he had been really good on the first day. Only one incident, which involved him dropping an egg on the kitchen floor, stood out to you. Of course, that could happen to anyone. But any other person would not have apologized in the way that he did. Normal people wouldn’t have acted so guilty, had it been an accident. But as long as his malice remained to that extent, you could live with it. You almost laughed at the idea of him purposely watching the egg roll off the counter and not doing anything.

He sure was strange. But little did you know, his egg-dropping shananigans were only the beginning of his uncontrollable little pranks he would pull on you.

Once he let your bird fly out the window. When you came home you discovered him outside, talking to your bird, begging him to come back inside. Little did he know, all it took was a whistle and a few treats and you had him sitting on your shoulder, ready to go back inside. One night you returned home to find him staring at the ceiling in the dining room, a kitchen towel in his hand. When you asked him what he was trying to achieve there, he told you there was a mosquito sitting above him.

“So, why don’t you kill it?” you asked. He looked shocked.

“Kill it?” he asked, “We should probably just shoo it outside.”

That’s when you knew. Choi Chanhee wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. All those times you had worried about leaving him home alone with your bird vanished in an instant as you laughed.

“You’re right. Killing is one of the worst sins. But sometimes, especially when it comes to mosquitoes, you don’t need to worry about any consequences. If anything, I’ll be grateful,” you assured him.

Another instance made you think maybe you had been too quick to judge him as harmless. When you walked into your bathroom in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you almost jumped out of your skin. A red substance stuck to your mirror in what seemed to be random shapes. On impulse, you called his name. On second look, you realized what he had done. The red was merely ketchup, and the random shapes weren’t so random, but they spelled “meeting at 2 pm”. When Chanhee appeared in the doorframe, he already wore his sorry expression.

“What did you think you were doing here?” you said. “You know where the post-it notes are!”

“I- He- The demon in me wanted to scare you…I’m so sorry,” he said. It was difficult to be mad at him when he was so sweet. You had, after all, told him to remind you of your meeting you had that day. He was so easy to forgive, too. Whenever he went to buy groceries, he returned with a bouquet of flowers, and after he had figured out your favorite candy, he made sure you never ran out of your supply. You liked being alone, but suddenly it felt nice to have someone waiting for you at home. A warm sensation filled your heart whenever he asked you about your day during dinner.

Even if after dinner you had to argue with him as if he was your son, because the demon in him had decided to take on the form of a teenage boy who was too lazy to take out the trash. You were still seated at the table, rolling your eyes at the demon’s horrible attempt at being evil.

“Don’t make me ask you one more time,” you threatened him, although you didn’t know what you would have done had he continued to argue against you. Only when he reached for the knife that he had already put down tidily on his plate, your eyes widened. His knuckles were white around the metal and you leaned back instinctively. Your gun was still in your belt – you had sat down for dinner straight after returning home – but you didn’t want to use it. Not on him.

“Chanhee,” you spoke in a calm tone. His face was unreadable. He wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, his gaze was glued onto the blade in his hand, staring blankly. His eyes blinked, almost robotically. Something changed in his demeanor then. There was a tremble in the hand that was clutching the knife. It grew more uneasy by each passing moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you kept your eyes trained on him, trusting your reflexes.

“Fine,” he suddenly said in a grumpy tone. Then he dropped the knife. The metallic sound rang in your ears for seconds afterward. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding on to, as you watched him get up and retrieve the full trash bag from under the sink. You had been sleeping with your bedroom door unlocked for weeks. Even though it pained you, that night you locked your door again.

~

At 3:28 am you awoke to the sound of breaking glass. You allowed yourself to yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes for just a moment, then you were on your feet. Gun in hand, you opened your door. Across the hall, the door to Chanhee’s room stood ajar. Light came from downstairs.

“Chanhee?” you called quietly. No answer. But your ears picked up shuffling and the sound of shards of glass being moved around. You approached slowly, trying not to give yourself away. Then you heard the quiet sobs. Your arm with the gun dropped to your side when you stepped into the kitchen.

He was sitting on the floor like he was one of the shattered pieces of glass himself. When he saw you, he flinched and tried to dry away his tears. But it was no use. They kept coming, and you had already seen them either way.

“I dropped it on purpose,” he said, referring to the broken glass. Another sob went through his body, making your chest ache at the sight of him. “I’m sorry.”

“I have nine more of those. It’s alright,” you assured him. Gently, you sat down by his side. You put your arms around his hunched frame. He stiffened at first but calmed his muscles after a moment and let you hold him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said. Whatever it was that was hurting him so much, you’d be here to fight it off for him.

“I can’t stop the evil in me,” he cried. His weeps seeped through your skin and tugged at your organs. It felt like a thousand tiny, sharp needles in your heart.

“It’s a part of you. It’ll never fully go away. But look at you, you’re doing such a good job holding it inside of you,” you whispered. He shuddered.

“I tried to kill you,” he stated. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so kind. You do all this for me, and I tried to kill you.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “And that’s what counts. We all have urges inside of us…but it’s what we end up doing that truly counts and makes us who we are.”

“But it’s so hard,” he cried. His face was in the crook of your neck as he sniffled. The small teardrops that touched your skin felt like ice. “And all I do is bother you. I’m an inconvenience. Why don’t you just lock me up with the other demons? Why give me another chance every time I mess up?”

You couldn’t believe he would hate himself so much. Chanhee had more compassion than a lot of the humans you knew had. Some days he sat and pet your bird for hours just because it made him happy, he always had money on him to give to the homeless people in front of the grocery store and he almost cried thinking he forgot to pay for an item at the store (which you had obviously paid for).

“How could you even compare yourself to other demons?” you said. “If you want, I will take you in to work with me sometime. Then you’ll see the atrocities others commit. Even among humans, you’d still be sorted into the best of the best. I believe in you and that you will do good.”

He only sobbed harder at what you had said, and you felt the need to pull him in just a little tighter. You softly rocked your bodies in an attempt to calm him down.

“I would fall apart without you.” Between the hiccups and tears his words sounded like a broken confession, but that’s why they hit so hard.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you whispered, lips right by his ear. Your hands were in his hair, stroking his head as if you could pour all your emotions into this one gesture. What else could you do to show him you would never abandon him the way his demon people had? And it seemed to do the trick. His fists that had been clutching your shirt loosened up and his sorrowful crying turned into mellow breathing on your skin.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked. “Let’s get you back to sleep. Tomorrow things will be better.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well for three days,” he said. “But I need to clean this up first.”

He let go of you and started to pick up shards of glass. There was still a haggard expression on him, and his cheeks were painted red and tear stained. And yet he was determined.

“Let me do this,” you said, touching his arm. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. Go to bed, Chanhee.”

This time, he didn’t argue. But his good behavior didn’t stop the apologetic, almost battered look at you. He knew you would be by his side no matter what – but what he needed most was his own forgiveness. And you could tell by the way he spoke about himself that it would take a while until he was ready to accept himself as he was.

You heard his heavy steps on the stairs as he walked to his room. Quickly, you gathered the biggest shards of glass and then used a hand brush to collect the tiny pieces. This wasn’t what you had signed up for when you had taken him in. You thought you’d have to argue with him daily and that you’d miss having your personal space and privacy. You knew it would be new, living with another person after living alone for so long. But nothing could have prepared you for the way Chanhee had swept you off your feet with his adorable charms. You didn’t need to fake excitement when you came home to him, nor did you ever have to force yourself to tell him about your day or have any conversation with him, for that matter. He was truly enchanting with the way he made you care so much. Especially when you had assumed all demons were your sworn enemies.

When you finally dragged your tired body upstairs, you softly pushed open the door to his room, only to see him lying wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. “Even though you’re so exhausted?”

“No,” he spoke. Even his voice made no attempt at hiding the sleepiness. His look was pleading. “Can you please stay with me…just for a little while?”

There was no way you could say no to his lovely gaze and messy hair and outstretched arms. So, you crawled in next to him under the covers. Your faces were inches apart. The last time you had been looking into a demon’s eyes this close-up he had been lying face-up and dead on the side of a road. Those eyes had been lifeless, and yet you felt like they had still held so much ferociousness, even in death. Now you only saw concern and genuine care in the black orbs across from you. You admired his softly sculpted face. It was one that seemed like it would much rather belong to an angel.

“You’ve been working so much,” he whispered. “You must be much more tired than me.”

“I’m used to it,” you said, “I enjoy my work because I’m doing it to help others.”

“You’re a good person,” he stated. There was something in his voice you couldn’t make out. Regret? Admiration?Maybe it was both.

“So are you, Chanhee,” you said. Without second thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek. He didn’t flinch nor pull away. Instead, his pretty lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes, ready to finally drift off to dreamland.

~

From that night on he seemed to improve a little, day by day. No more breaking things or having to argue about simple house chores. It occurred to you almost as if he had turned into something more human – so much that you dared to take him to work with you. People there had found the idea of your new demon friend strange, and you were sure some would take more than a little convincing to let down their guard around him. You couldn’t blame them for the prejudices – you had once been the same, after all. But Chanhee was okay with it, even when you had explained to him that some people might hate him, just because of his black eyes and what they meant to people. He had lived years of receiving that sort of treatment. Nonetheless, it pained you to think about how used he was to it. It took bravery and thick skin to walk into a police station the way he did that day. He was fascinated, looking behind the scenes. Perhaps you found it amusing how alarmed everyone was when they first laid eyes on him at the station. His ability to turn around their views of his species within twenty seconds or less was nothing but astonishing. He very willingly took it upon himself to walk down to the nearest coffee shop and order ten cups, also earning him the sympathy from the last few sceptics. When you were deep in conversation with another detective, discussing the possible whereabouts of a highly wanted demon, Chanhee suddenly interrupted you.

“I know an underground club where they like to go after…committing crimes,” he said. “Every demon in this city knows about it.”

At that moment you realized his full potential and what good he could really do. That was, if he was ready to sacrifice his people. But he just had – without even blinking. He could be an immense help to you.

“Young man I can see you have a bright future, should you ever decide to join the police force,” said your boss from across the room. Seemed like she had the same idea as you. Chanhee only smiled shyly but couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes.

~

The following days you instantly made arrangements to get Chanhee an interview with the head of the station. He had been scared, at first.

“What if the other people there hate me?” he suspected.

“They might make assumptions about you in their heads, you know, because you’re a demon. They only know demons to be evil. But the moment they realize how good of a person you are, I promise they’ll change their mind,” you said. “You’ll be precious to us, and if you want to do good, the police is where you can be the most helpful. You’ll change lives, maybe even save people.”

“Yes, I want to help,” he said. “I’m done with my kind.”

“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow,” you assured him. “If you’re too anxious to come in to the station, maybe she’ll allow you to work from home, from my office here. This is just a try, okay? If you really enjoy this work, you’ll have to learn and earn your badge.”

The way he looked at you filled you with so much pride. He seemed to have found some hope. Like he could finally spend his time in a productive and truly good manner. You couldn’t wait to see how he would do.

~

A tiring day and many discussions with higher-ups at workplace later, you returned at your home, late at always. Your fingers tingled with excitement and you wanted to yell for Chanhee the moment you walked through your door. You had managed to score an internship for him at your station. He was allowed to start as early as the following week. As you walked up the stairs, following the shuffling noise you heard, you imagined his face when you told him the news. You knew he’d be ecstatic. His smile would make you so happy, and you almost grinned at the mere thought of it. The noises were coming out of your office.

“Hi, Chanhee. Guess what my boss-,” you started. Then you fell speechless. Paper was scattered all over the floor. Drawers stood wide open. The orderly sorted piles of case files you had been working on were dispersed into every corner of the small room. Photos and pieces of paper were falling out of the folders. And in midst of it all stood Chanhee.

“Y/N- I’m so-,” he said, helpless.

“Don’t,” you said. Every ounce of excitement was gone from your voice, replaced by an ice cold tone you didn’t know you had in you. He flinched, but you couldn’t keep in what you had to say. “You’re impossible. I can’t fucking believe this! These are real cases, Chanhee! I’m trying to save real people here! This isn’t some broken mirror or a spilled cup of water. I can look past a shattered glass, but this is too much…I honestly thought you were getting better…”

Somewhere you knew you were being too harsh. But your job was your entire reason for existing. This was your life mission, laid out in front of you as if a hurricane had rampaged through the room. It would take days for you to rearrange the files. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find the correct places for each piece of paper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking because he was about to cry.

“I don’t want to see you right now. Please get out. I need to clean this up and you can’t help me with this,” you said, trying hard not to scream out of frustration. Your eyes were already scanning the floor. You had no idea where to even start. With low-hanging shoulders and teary eyes that were threatening to spill over, Chanhee slipped past you. He granted you one more look before he scurried out of the office like a frightened animal.

Even though your stomach was grumbling from starvation and you could barely stay awake – as always – you needed to get some of the cleaning done. Now. Or you would go insane. Plus, you needed time away from Chanhee. While you collected the paper from every inch of the wooden floor, guilt slowly started to nag at you. You had never raised your voice at him to this extent. And he was sensitive. It wasn’t his fault, that’s what you always told him when he blamed himself for messing things up. He knew that. You cursed at yourself. How could you be so impulsive? All too well you knew how he felt about his demon half. You were supposed to be there for him, to tell him he was doing a good job and to make sure he didn’t beat himself up. Now you had achieved the complete opposite. A dull ache in your chest accompanied your hungry stomach.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. In a haze, you stepped down the stairs and to the door. You needed to apologize to Chanhee. When you opened the door, a delivery girl from your favorite restaurant stood there, handing you an order. You were puzzled.

“Already payed for,” she checked with a beaming smile, “Enjoy your meal!”

“Thank you,” you said, voice numb. Before you knew it, she had turned on her heel and was on the way back to the car.

“Chanhee! Your food is here,” you shouted, assuming he was the one who had made the order. You got no answer. When you set the bag down on the kitchen table, you saw a note, addressed to you.

Y/N,

Words can’t express how sorry I am about what I’ve done. All my life I only wanted someone to love me. In you, I thought I might have found what I had been searching for all this time. But I messed up. I always do. I drove you away from what we had. I’ve wondered why I always end up disappointing people. Now I know it’s because it’s the only thing I’m truly good at. You deserve someone you can trust blindly, someone who will walk through fire for you, someone who will take a bullet for you. I can’t give you that. I can’t even trust myself. Thank you for giving me a home and for being the most generous person I have ever met. You will always be in my sweet evil heart. Don’t worry about me too much. I will find my way and you will find yours. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I ordered your favorite food. I know you’re always starving when you get home from work. Enjoy it and don’t let it go cold. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and don’t forget to take your water bottle with you tomorrow, you left it here this morning.

I’ll hold you in my happiest thoughts forever,

Chanhee

You only snapped out of your motionless state when one single tear dropped down your cheek and onto the note. A heavy blanket of sorrow and regret sunk into your whole body. The emotions seeped through your skin and before you knew it, you were a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. You wanted to take him in your arms and tell him you forgave him. Hell, you had forgiven him minutes after you had yelled at him. You should have gone to him then. Had you only apologized quickly enough, perhaps he’d still be here. Then he’d be eating dinner with you, and although you’d be frustrated, you both wouldn’t be alone.

Your tears fell into your food while you ate it, unable to control your sadness and frustration you had against yourself. They mixed with the shower water as you stood in silence under the hot stream, overthinking everything. Your pillow was wet from the crying as you struggled to fall asleep. Like a broken-hearted zombie you trudged across the hall and into his room. Chanhee’s covers still smelled like him and you hugged them tightly, as if you could hold a piece of him and bring him back that way. But there was nothing you could have done. He had left, and it was alone your fault.

~

The next day passed like a vivid fever dream. While you were sat in your meeting, you couldn’t possibly focus on the case your team was discussing. Instead, you pondered whether your makeup was able to conceal your puffy face and the dark circles under your eyes. If it was obvious, at least people didn’t seem to point it out. Maybe they were so used to seeing you tired that it would take a lot more than some tiredness and lack of concentration to arise concern. It was the first time in years you really wanted to go home after work. In fact, you couldn’t stand the laughter and good mood at the police station for one more second. All you wanted to do was scream and cry, and seeing people joke around without any idea about your feelings only intensified your desire. Of course, you could have confided in somebody. But you were afraid they would tell you Serves you right or I told you. You don’t think you’d be able to handle those blatant assumptions and the mocking.

Your plan for the night was set: You’d sit in the bathtub for half an hour, then you’d wrap yourself into a human burrito in a blanket and fill your brain with some brutal movie that would make your life seem like it was mere child’s play. But as most things in your life lately, nothing went as planned. Because after only five minutes in the hot tub, your phone rang on the other side of the room. The first time you ignored it. You really tried. But then it rang again, and you looked up to see the caller ID. It was your boss.

You groaned and quickly stood up, not giving up on the prospects of a peaceful night just yet. But then you heard her message – a break-in at a bank, one dead bank employee, five hostages, a possible shoot out. They were calling for back up. And when there was a chance to throw bad guys behind bars, the most inviting bath or an exciting movie suddenly turned dull.

Not fifteen minutes later you had jumped out the bath, gotten dressed in your uniform, taken your gun and ammunition, and were pulling up at the scene your boss had ordered you to. The bank was in the city center, close to the main square. The police team was stationed in a side street. Some of the team had already been sent to the front of the bank, where the police was attempting to make contact with the robbers.

“They’re holding four hostages in the back of the bank. One of them is at the front, right by the glass doors for us to see. The robbers have guns to their heads. If we come closer, they’ll shoot them,” your colleague informed you.

“Demons?” you asked. Against your will, Chanhee appeared in your mind. You wondered how he was doing. Was he hiding out in somebody else’s garden right now? Had he found a bed to sleep in? Then you quickly shook your head. This was not the time for heavy emotions of any kind.

“Yes. Five of them,” your colleague added. You huffed.

“What do they want us to do? Are they demanding anything?” you asked.

“They want us to let them leave with the money,” she said. You grinned bitterly and nodded.

“What about the back entrance?” you asked. You knew the layout of this bank and had been there multiple times in the past.

“That’s our route. Besides the one at the front, the other demons are inside the bank. The entrance isn’t guarded. A team of four will go to the back and try to sneak up on them. When we have a clear line of fire on all the robbers, we’ll take them out at the same time,” she explained.

“Alright,” you nodded, fixing your bulletproof vest around your upper body. You were ready for this. To others, missions like these would have been nerve-wrecking, and you would have been lying if you said you were completely calm. But the adrenaline was already rushing through your body, and fear was something you hadn’t felt since your very first operation.

“All ready?” your colleague asked the other two members of the team who would go into the bank. You received nods and professional expressions. You had all trained together and were used to functioning like one unit. Sticking close together, you rounded the bank, using a side street so the demons wouldn’t see you approaching. In your ear, the voice of your boss was giving orders and checking in on you. The street was dark and devoid of any life except for your team. Multiple of the surrounding streets had been evacuated and shut off to the public. The scene had something straight out of a heist movie. Except this time, the robbers weren’t going to pull of the perfect theft and get away. You would make sure of it.

“We’re almost there,” you said. “Twenty meters to the entrance. Awaiting permission to go inside.”

“You have permission,” your boss spoke over your earpiece. One last look at your teammates, and you were on the move. Sneaking inside soundlessly was easy. The backrooms were all empty. As you passed abandoned offices, you saw knocked over office equipment and paper scattered on the floors. Lamps had been left on and you heard the faint buzzing of a running computer that was most certainly unoccupied. Moving swiftly, you walked along the corridors, guns pointed ahead at all times. Your teamwork was untouchable. One of you made sure the path was clear, then the rest followed.

“You are one room away from the entry hall,” your boss said.

“Understood,” you answered and slowed down your steps. A cat wouldn’t have been able to walk more silently than you did. Now your ears picked up voices. Somebody was crying. There was shuffling of feet on marble.

“Shut up!” a male voice yelled. The crying faded out into muteness. In the dark, you could make out figures. A few countertops and a good distance separated you and your team from the demons and the hostages. You nodded to your colleagues and they understood. The four of you parted ways, moving into the room and taking shelter behind the bank counters. Once again, you checked the situation. Close to you, four hostages sat on the floor. A woman was still crying, and you could tell she was struggling to keep herself quiet. Around them, four demons stood, dressed in black. Their ski masks kept their faces hidden, but their body languages told you enough. They were not to be messed with. By the far entrance, the fifth demon was positioned with the remaining hostage, and you could spot the police cars outside in the town square. From behind your hiding spots, each of your teammates had a clear line of fire on the demons. The fifth one would be taken out from police outside the bank. You were just about to send a signal to your boss to let her know you were in position. Suddenly, the scraping of feet on the floor alarmed you.

“What was that?” one of the demons barked. The noise had come from your colleague beside you, who was now flinching. You had no time to think. No time to complain about her mistake. If you didn’t act now, they were going to close in on you.

You jumped up, pointing your gun at the closest demon. Right away, the remaining demons had their guns aimed at the hostages’ heads. Your colleagues had done as you, guns held towards the demons. Now you got a proper look at them. They were towering over the hostages, who were crouched on the floor in intimidation. The one in front of you only chuckled. Humans didn’t laugh like this. It was pure malice and recklessness displayed in front of you.

“I thought we told you to stay away,” he began. The only thing you could truly note about him was his mouth. The rest was covered by his mask and where the white of eyes should have been, two orbs of darkness sat, eying you like prey.

“Let the hostages go and we won’t shoot you,” you ordered, with a surprisingly calm voice.

“And why would we do that when we can just kill them?” he asked. His gaze momentarily focused on his fellow demons, as if he was a stand-up comedian and he had just delivered the funniest punch line.

“You will die if you harm even one of the hostages,” you stated.

“Oh, is that so? Humans never learn, do they?” he said. This monster was completely insane. And suicidal too, it seemed. “Go on, shoot.”

First, you thought he was urging your team to shoot. Then you realized, he was looking at the demon closest to you. The very demon you had your gun pointed at. He was asking the other demon to shoot at the hostages. You were preparing to pull the trigger.

But then your mind started racing. You stared at him intensely as your heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in your chest. The dark eyes. The soft lips. His skinny frame and gentle hands. You knew exactly who this demon was. You’d be able to pick him out of any crowd. What the hell was he doing here?

“Shoot!” the bigger demon shouted again, but Chanhee didn’t budge.

“I told you he was goddamn useless,” one of the others said. “Get rid of him.”

“You don’t deserve any of this money,” the bigger demon snarled, and his hand went to his belt. You knew there were human lives on the line. What you were about to do could be considered not only stupid, but wildly imprudent. Emotions were supposed to be left out of police operations. But how could you not have been blind with shock? You were going to let your heart control your body over your mind, and if it was deadly so be it. The bigger demon was now raising his arm at Chanhee.

Before you knew it, you had jumped out from behind the counter. You mirrored the demon’s actions and you pointed at him, pulling the trigger. At the same time, his gun went off. Just in time, you had pushed your body between the two demons.

“Y/N!” Chanhee shouted.

The bullet hit your shoulder and you fell backwards. Burning heat spread through your insides as you stumbled and reached for anything, anyone to hold on to. You could only think of Chanhee, and how your bullet had pierced through the big demon’s skull perfectly. Then, your colleagues opened the gunfire. The shots sounded almost muffled through the intense amount of adrenaline in your blood and the initial effect of being hit. Your body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and a wave of agony spread through you. You grimaced at the excruciating pain, hands grasping at your shoulder. All you could see was white, before you sank onto your back and the world went dark.

~approximately 18 months later~

“Y/N,” Chanhee said, for the sixth time within the last ten minutes. You pressed your phone harder against your ear, holding it up with your shoulder. Your hands were too busy writing a police report on your laptop.

“Chanhee, I promise I’m writing the last few sentences already,” you assured him. He liked it when you came home early, leaving enough time to relax on the couch with him, instead of falling into bed like a corpse. Today, he was especially insistent, urging you to stay on the phone with him until you had finally packed up your things and left the police department. You guessed he was just trying to make sure you couldn’t stop somewhere along the way and start working on something new. And maybe that fear wasn’t so far off the truth.

“I’m done,” you said. “Status report: I’m switching off the laptop. Now I’m taking my bag. I’m getting up. I’m locking my office behind me. I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less.”

His laughter on the other side of the line made you smile. You couldn’t wait to see his face and get to hug him.

“Alright. I can’t wait,” he said. “I’ll see you.”

The walk home was calm. A soft breeze went through your hair and in the distance, you heard sirens of an ambulance. Promptly you were catapulted back to your memories and into the vehicle after you had been shot. Going in and out of consciousness, you kept repeating one name: Chanhee. When you woke up in the hospital bed, you half-expected him to be sitting there, waiting for you to wake up. But of course that was not the case. He had committed a crime – or at least tried to commit one. The prosecution was in his favor. They acknowledged his compliance with the police and his hesitation to hurt the hostage. Plus, he sold out the other demons and showed no resistance at any point. His regret and sorrow was apparent, nonetheless his mistake caused him 11 months in prison – by far less than the other robbers got.

People had called you insane for standing by him. Others thought you brave and newspapers named him the first good demon in the world. Every week you visited him in prison, often more than once. You made the most of your short time to talk, and with your kindest words you let him know that you were still here for him. Every visit you learned a bit more about how he had ended up in that bank.

After he had walked out on you, he had nowhere to go. So, after strolling the street mazes for days he found himself in the very demon night club he had once warned you about. Most unsavory figures twisted his mind into thinking doing good was no use. They made him believe he would never be able to escape the demon in him, and he might as well embrace the malice. They more or less pulled him along to the robbery, while he overthought the whole thing. It hurt you, seeing him cry as he recounted how scared he was when he saw the hostages. Some of them ended up injured, but all survived. You knew he would have never forgiven himself, had one of them died.

The day you picked him up from prison was a day you’d never forget. Holding each other in your arms felt so right, and you had missed it tremendously. His months at the prison hadn’t been easy, but you made sure he felt loved and cared for when he finally returned. He almost refused to believe that you would open your doors to him again. It was no question to you. You’d always be here for him. Even when he insisted you keep your office at home locked at all times. You trusted him almost a hundred percent by now. His demon only came out rarely, especially in times of stress or intense negative emotions. But you only treated him with kindness, and he gave back just as much of it.

“Chanhee I’m home!” you shouted as you entered your home.

“I’m up here,” he spoke. You ran up the stairs, excited to see him. Your eyes fell onto the open door of your office. For a moment, your heartbeat quickened as you approached it. You must have forgotten to lock the door that morning. Slowly, you pushed it open.

“Hello,” he grinned. You only chuckled as you watched him, sitting by your desk, a book in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind me being in here. This chair is so comfortable.”

“It’s all good,” you said. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Umm…Friday?” he asked.

“It’s been exactly two years since you first started living here,” you said. “I think we should get some take out and celebrate, what do you say?”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said. “I’d love that. And you know what? I think I’m ready to start the internship at the police station.”

You smiled proudly. He had put his book down and was getting up.

“You’re going to do good things,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He finally had found his place. His home. And you were never going to give up on him.

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 5 | " ILLICIT AFFAIRS "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @serendipitysung @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

“The morning sun has come, and the evening moon is gone. Dearlings, I am elated to apprise you of the events at the debutantes’ ball that occurred as of late, and must I warn you, they're not for the feeble spirits!

The ton is abuzz with the most beefy tale as Northumberland’s jewel among the lovely rocks, Miss Y//n Park, has earned herself a ticket to glory! She danced with the most favored noblemen in the ton and surely, she went home with a hearty grace as she'll most likely expect an abundant roster of suitors in the following days.

Not only was she offered a dance by our dear second-born, Lord Yang, but she also had the privilege and pleasure to be twirled around the court by the most charming, Lord Lee, and the ever coveted nobleman among the ton, Lord Park, the next-in-line Duke of Northumberland!

Where's the beef you might ask? Well, it seems to me that these men are blindfoldedly playing fire with each other.

Not only does Lord Lee has women wrapped easily around his fingers, he has men too! With a sly steal of Miss Y/n’s hand from Lord Yang last night, he certainly left the chap earnestly plotting for a segue of intrusion- and Lord Yang intriguingly delivered!

With the timing in its most opportune, Lord Yang managed to finally dance with the young miss, in private! Ooh! This is new! My senses told me they spent their waltz in the Queen’s library, alone! How in the world did they let this happen to the ton’s jewel unchaperoned? That is something the Daily Tattle is unfortunately unable to unearth, but the mystery will continue to haunt us for long. Do take note: the more you hide in careful secret, the more people will know and hear about it.

What happened next will have you either boggled, or enchanted! The young lord abruptly rushed out the room before the music even ended! Should that be counted as a waltz at all? Before you ask about the enchanting part, Miss Y/n was seen dashing out the room moments later in tears and evident heartache. What do you think happened in the mere minutes of alone time in that large 4-cornered room?

But come now, enchanting stories aren't as they are without a knight in shining armor. In fact, in our young miss’ case, her knight wasn't clad in shining, silver sheath, but in magnificent and elegant, vintage red tailcoat draped over a loose white jabot shirt that’s cleanly tucked into the black, satin knee breeches, finished off with a pair of shiny Hessian boots. With skin as white almost akin to snow, it complemented perfectly with his ravishing fit. The beautiful marquess certainly dressed himself valiantly for the seasonal occasion. With that stunning presence, anyone would surely presume he went to the ball looking like a duke in careful search of a duchess.

Lord Park and Miss Y/n surprisingly became one of the ball’s highlights as they graced the Royal Court with the most heart-stopping, corset-itching, tantalizing waltz. All the while their faces are almost an inch apart from each other, a brooding identity was found hiding in the crowded corner of the hall! Under the bright gleam of the grand chandeliers, our dearest second-born, Lord Yang, was seen eyeing the two with such stare that even the buffy slice of vanilla cake on Lord Sunoo’s plate could almost melt in a blink of an eye!

Among the splendid tales told by yours truly, which tea do you think tastes like sweet ecstasy of oddity and fervor? It is the ton's tradition to portend the lady’s endgame by the person whom she had her last waltz with. From one man to another, should these prophecies dictate Miss Y/n Park’s fate?

Well, don't turn your heads away now! The story's just begun.”

The mid-morning sunrays peek through the large leaves and busty trunks of the hibernating redwood trees lining in disarray. Y/n is just about to plummet into her habitual readings in the Kielder forest and the autumnal breeze is keeping up with her bubbly morning approach, fortunately.

The sounds of the birds chirping and the dead leaves crunching under her shoes creep up through her puff sleeves making her tingle in giddiness and enthusiasm. She deeply inhales the aromatic forest and lets out a giggle in the process. With jumpy leaps and crispy leaves echoing in her every move, the young lady surely knows where she's going in this partly mysterious forest that is most often open only to men and men alone.

Somewhere deep in the evergreen woods, Y/n has built a fortress of her own for whenever she needs to run away from the seldom, mundane life in the manor. At the heart of Northumberland's famous Kielder Forest, lies a small, whimsical looking fort made up of translucent voile casually hanging on a tree branch. One of her lady maids helped her out with the fabric one time and it still stood prettily among the chaotic scenes that go around in the forest today.

She enters her slightly sheer fort and sits down on a pillow that she stole away from the comforts of her bedroom. Flipping the olden pages of the aged Jane Austen book she borrowed from a boy several years back, she heaves a sigh at the sight of a dead Catalpa flower resting on a particular page accompanied by a little, worn out parchment dating back to when she was a tiny ten-year-old lassie. She reads,

Her eyes drifted over the page to where the note and the old flower were situated. The pads of her fingers graze over the certain phrases that were underlined by the book's owner that says, “I cannot make speeches. If l loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.一 You hear nothing but truth from me.一”

She suddenly feels a gush of nostalgia and loneliness upon muttering the words she had ultimately carved in her tongue way back; reciting each word with fervor while she bask herself under the brightly-lit moonlight in their garden. How can children of ten gobble up such emotions at once? So much for a pair of hopeless romantic hearts from the distant years of ten, screaming disagreements and would later huddle on a sprawled out table cloth on the flowery fields, exchanging sentimental poesies and stolen stares.

She relives the brief moments they both shared last night in the Queen’s library, and ponders on how one could be so adjacent to the changing of tides in the sea; promptly, and mostly without warning.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't the feelings I've been trying to avoid.” She whispers to the autumn air. Unfortunately, her pondering truncates as snaps of twigs and crisps off dried leaves echoes in her corner. She hastily crawls out her hand-made canopy and brushes away any pieces of tiny crumpled leaves off her dress.

“What are you doi-”

“Who are you?” She cuts off the startled chap cladded in ragged clothing, apparently embodying that of a mainland farm boy.

“Greetings, your ladyship. I come in peace and I am just here to fetch the chopped woods I’ve laboured a day prior for the farm.” The chap with a very odd accent replies with both hands hanging mid-air. “You are fully aware that you shouldn't be in this place, especially unchaperoned, right?” He continues.

“I am fully aware. But such matters shouldn't concern you.”

“Indeed, my apologies. Furthermore, I will respect your unspoken wishes if it is truly your desire to keep your whereabouts hidden from your townspeople. My lady.”

Y/n relaxes from her bold stance as she found a hint of kindness from the odd stranger. Surprisingly, she extends her hand out to the stranger for a greeting.

“Please. Call me Y/n instead.” The boy looks at her open palm for half a minute before shaking it, looking as equally surprised as the young miss with the sudden gesture.

“You live pretty far from the town, huh?”

“I do. Life's utterly chaotic over on your end?”

“Oh, you don't have the slightest idea.” They both share laughters and inside jokes of their own livelihood that made the young miss settle her shoulders down comfortably.

“I'm Jake Sim. Just Jake Sim. Apparently, my name was originally Jaeyun, but the farm folks got used with Jake and so did I. They said it sounds more Australian.”

“Why would they associate your name with something Australian?” Y/n grew more curious as it was, after all, the first time she's ever been with a person that's not of Northumberland's proper.

“I grew up in Australia.”

“That's curious. How did an Australian boy land among the ragged farms of Europe?”

“It's complicated. The story involves a lot of conspiracies so it's definitely not for your ears. Some other time, maybe?” Y/n smirks at the sudden brazenness from her newly found acquaintance.

“Is this an Australian thing where we shift from acquaintanceship to something more?” She teases.

“Certainly, if you're down to it on your next Kielder visit?”

“For sure. But as for now, I must take my leave. My presence is very much needed for the promenade scheduled for me today.” Y/n half-covers her mouth as if reaching out for a whisper, hissing the last sentence.

“Ah! Rich people things that I could never.” The chap could only roll his eyes at the fancy thought.

“See you soon, Just Jake Sim!”

“Where have you been, princess?” The young miss scoffs at the marquess upon arriving at the town’s park, with a hand immediately sliding through Lord Park’s arm.

“Down with the flirtatious remarks now, aren't we? I went to promenade with myself, Your ever handsome Grace.” Sunghoon smirks at her tiny, playful whispers against his shoulders. They go around and about, traipsing along the cemented pavements as they give away acknowledging nods and polite smiles to whomever wants their brief attention.

The ton is still in amazed shock at the possibility of these two ending up with a ring on a finger. Everyone was subtly betting for Jungwon but as a result of his loss, a much better gent carried his girl off the floor. Something he let himself do, out of cowardice perhaps, or out of pride.

“Remind me the point of all this?” Y/n carefully whispers to Sunghoon.

“To make your man jealous and spit out his genuine sentiments in the process, as well as an advantage for me as we get to keep the marriage-minded mothers of the ton at bay. Now, all we have to do is smile, nod, and appear madly in love with each other if this is to work. Is it clear enough for you?” He jerks a brow at her paired with the most charming smirk he could ever expose.

“Crystal.”

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[your-eternal-muse]

Use Me (pt 1)

Part 2

A/N: Hello Everyone! This is my first ever fic that I've posted on this sight. I've been obsessed with Criminal Minds and Spencer Reid since the beginning of quarentine, so might as well put the obsession to good use! I hope you like it, and I am planning on posting a part 2 within the next couple days! Enjoy! (Also, I wrote and edited this on mobile so if the formating is weird I'm sorry)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Character/Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abduction, nonconsensual drug use, mentions of drugs, swearing, dirty thoughts

Words: 1.6k

Beta: My good Friend Erin!

I'm burning.

My skin feels like flames are crawling up my arms and my legs shake with every uneven step I take.

Sweat coats my brow, and my stomach churns as the world spins around me.

All because of the hand resting on the nape of my neck, which belongs to the unsub dubbed "the wizard" by the public.

He has a habit of abducting women, injecting them with some weird mix of drugs, and leaving them to fend for themselves.

Only one has been fatal.

Let's hope that statistic stays that way.

He pushes me forward, and I only vaguely know where we are.

My mind is in shambles, able to think about one thing and one thing only.

Spencer.

Every inch of him is infecting my mind, making my core pulse like it never has before.

Every image that flashes through my mind creates a dirty chain reaction.

I've had fantasies before, but god, they don't come close to the ones running through my mind.

I swallow, and wrap my arms around myself.

"What did- What did you put in me, you bastard?"

He chuckled behind me.

"Something to kick your little crush on the doctor into something more. Call it a love potion."

"How the fuck-"

But I wasn't able to finish my sentence before he shoved me up a flight of stairs.

I trip, falling onto my knees, my palms digging into the stone of the steps.

He grabs the collar of my jacket and drags me up the stairs, letting me go once we reach the top.

I slump against the railing, trying to catch my breath.

He leans down, and pins something to my shirt.

I try to focus on his face, but it's dark, and my mind won't cooperate.

"Have fun."

He stands, ringing the doorbell of an apartment, before walking away.

I try to stand, to go after him but he's gone before I can stabilize myself onto my legs.

And then I hear the door creak open, and a voice speaks out.

"Hello?"

How the hell can one word ruin me?

"Sp-Spencer?" This is hell. How can I be around him like this? How did the unsub even find out?

"Y/N? Are you okay? What happened?"

He opens the door, and the light behind him basks him in an ethereal glow.

He comes towards me, worry creasing his face as he places his hands on my upper arms.

Even through two layers of clothing, the touch alone sends sparks up my skin.

I bite my tongue to hold back a moan.

"He got me." It's hard to breathe right, with him standing so close to me. My breaths are ragged and shallow.

"He got me, and he injected me with something, and then he brought me here."

He pulls me behind him as his hand rests on his gun, which is still situated on his hip from the work day.

His eyes scan the street, and when he finds no one, he turns around, and ushers me into the building.

He's behind me, a hand placed gently on my lower back to keep me steady as he leads me towards his apartment.

God what I wish those hands would do to me.

Those long, slender fingers move faster and faster within me, curling around that pretty little spot until-

I stop, putting a hand out to steady myself against the wall, a pained moan leaving my throat. Sweat drips down my temple.

"What did he do to you?"

His eyes raked up and down my body, obviously profiling me, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I don't know." I say through gritted teeth. "But it feels like my body is on fire."

He nods, and within a few seconds we’re entering his apartment.

I run my hands through my hair and rub my face.

This isn't helping.

I'm surrounded by him.

Everytime I breathe, I can smell his musk, the natural scent of Spencer.

I shed my jacket, trying to cool off, but it only helps for a second.

The heat is radiating from inside me.

I sit on his couch and put my head in my hands, my leg bouncing as I try to distract myself from the impossible.

The leather is cool against my back, as he pushes into me, his kisses feverish, his hands roaming.

I want to cry.

This is borderline painful.

"We need to get you to the hospital."

Shit that's the last thing I need. My team, let alone anyone seeing me all hot and bothered like I've never been before.

Yeah. No.

I shake my head.

"No. God no. I know how to make it go

away, I just-"

I take a shuddery breath.

"I just need to be alone."

"I'm not leaving you, y/n. You're obviously in pain."

God fucking damnit.

He rests on his knees in front of me, and his hand lays on my lower thigh.

God, of course his hands have to be right fucking there, god damnit.

If only he knew he was making it worse.

"Can you at least explain to me what you're feeling?"

Fuck.

Double fuck.

But what the hell am I supposed to do? He's a genius, he'd figure it out eventually.

His words are laced with worry and care, and his eyes are soft.

I couldn't say no to him, even if I wanted to.

I take a breath and clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking.

"Um, I'm really hot, like really hot. Uh,"

My pussy is pulsing with every breath I take.

"I can't focus. I'm shakey."

I swallow.

"I'm thirsty."

That's the understatement of the century.

He's looking at me, but I know he's in his head, trying to narrow down what could possibly be in my system.

But my answers were vague. They could be the symptoms of any number of narcotics.

I run my hands over my jeans, and stand, walking over to his windows.

"Fuck."

If I don't tell him, he's just going to keep worrying.

Here goes nothing.

"I'm horny, okay? I'm beyond horny."

When I turn to face him, he's standing with his hands in his pockets, red covering his cheeks. "Oh."

I groan, planting my face into my hands.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not like this. He found out, I don't know how but he did, and now I'm here, horny as all hell, embarrassing myself with every second that passes and-"

"What did he find out?"

I pause for a moment, going over the words that had just left my mouth.

Shit.

Play dumb.

"What?"

He walks towards me, stopping in front of me to reach up and rip something from my shirt.

"Use me."

Please don't say that right now.

He turns it in between his fingers, to show me the note.

If my face wasn't already flushed, I'm sure it would have been.

"Please, y/n, tell me."

I could cry.

I really could.

I close my eyes, not wanting to look at him when I speak it into truth.

My hands were clenched so hard, my nails were sure to leave crescent moons on my palms.

"He found out, that," I bite my lip, and groan. "He found out that I like you. A lot more than as friends, okay? I don't know how but he did.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, before crossing my arms and staring at the ground.

"When I asked him why, he said it was to kick my crush on you into something more." I scoff, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "He called it a fucking love potion."

It's silent in the room.

I can hear the seconds pass by the clock resting on his wall.

I can feel his eyes on the side of my face.

"Let me help you."

His voice is soft, yet louder than I was expecting, and his fingers trail lightly up my arm.

That's when I look at him.

I shake my head.

"No. No, I can't let you do that. That's not fair to you. You're only doing because you feel like you have to and I can't do that t-"

"Y/n," his hand comes up to cover my mouth, and his eyes are darker than I've ever seen them.

God is it hot.

He wears a small smirk where his smile used to sit, and when he speaks, his voice is lowered.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to, now would I?"

It wasn't a question like he had phrased it, oh no. It was a statement. One that told me he wanted it just as much as I did.

If you had told me this morning, that by the end of the night, I would have Spencer Reid offering to fuck drugs out of my system, I would have laughed in your face.

But right now, it was taking everything in me not to jump his bones.

His hand moves from my mouth, his fingers brushing hair out of my vision, tucking it behind my ear.

I stare, wide eyed at him, hands shaking as I reach up and wrap my hand around his wrist.

"Is that what you want me to do? You want me to fuck it out of you?"

I know this is exactly what the unsub wants.

I know we're falling right into his trap.

But god damn it, I want this too.

I want this so bad.

This is my decision.

I nod my head.

"Use your words."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I nearly gasped, "Yes, I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl."

[lucientelrunya]

Like a lonely house pt 2

Chaotic me deciced to switch back to present tense (already edited part one) and I'm still quite clueless how to tag. But it gave me so much joy to see people enjoy my little idea.

Please feel free to point out any mistakes you spot, I'm always trying to improve my writing and stop myself from agonizing over every sentence and constantly rewrite everything...

I think Zhang Rishan might be a tad bit dramatic in this part, but I hope you enjoy this anyway :)

The blackness and cotton in his head only slowly recede, permeated by the sound of muffled voices Zhang Rishan knows. The voices carry an urgency, an impalpable sense of importance that drags him back to consciousness with a sudden harshness. Still it takes more effort than it should to blink his eyes open and for a moment he is confused why there is a stone ceiling above him and why little white flakes are clinging to his lashes. He rubs at his eyes, his movement sluggish and his arm feels heavy, a dull ache that causes the memories to come rushing back. The strange tomb, the force controlling him, the ritual, the pool - Ba Ye. It’s not a dream - nightmare? - or at least not all of it and he sits up way too quickly for his body to adjust. Thankfully someone grabs his shoulders - again - to keep him upright.

It takes Zhang Rishan another long moment to blink away the black spots and recognize Luo Que beside him, offering him an already open bottle of water, which is considerate and much appreciated. He really needs to drink something, at least to get the taste of copper and something he can’t even begin to describe out of his mouth. The strange pale liquid has dried all over his skin and clothes like some sort of clay, cracking and peeling off in flakes and powdery dust when he moves. He opts to ignore it for now, content with getting it off his lips and out of his eyes.

Luo Que doesn’t say anything and patiently waits for him to gulp down most of the bottle before he sits back again, letting go of Zhang Rishan’s shoulders and looking at him with a barely there question in his eyes. And, yeah, Zhang Rishan would like to know what’s going on here himself, thank you very much. With his vision mostly free of black spots and blurring edges he dares to look around him, having already spotted Zhang Qiling’s black clad legs next to him from the corner of his eye. He is lying on a sleeping bag right next to him, with Huo Daofu examining him quietly and unhurriedly.

And Zhang Rishan’s brain is still mushy enough to take a long moment to truly comprehend what he is looking at when he finds the source of the voices. Liu Sang and Pangzi arguing is not some rare occurrence (as he has learned in the last two days), although it's not really arguing and more of a friendly stage of bickering, but Liu Sang and Wang Pangzi arguing with Ba Ye is not normal, not in the least. So it really hasn’t been a dream or his imagination.

An illusion then, maybe? A hallucination, like the meteorite inside the tomb and Er Ye getting back his dead wife? Maybe he is still in the pool and all of this is just a hallucination? But back then the whole fake world had frozen once Ba Ye had started to doubt and Zhang Rishan is absolutely doubting the possibility of this being real. It feels too much like Er Ye’s illusion of getting Yatou back and Zhang Rishan has lived long enough to know that there is no way to truly bring a dead person back to life.

No one freezes and no one vanishes, not even when he puts his hand on his arm to push a thumb into the wound beneath the bandages and elicits a spark of pain that is absolutely and undeniably real. It quickly vanishes again, his body cataloguing it under ‘inconvenient but not life threatening’ and opting to ignore it like he had been trained. But it leaves Zhang Rishan fairly confident in his assumption that this is not an illusion.

He must have been staring, lost in his contemplation of what is real and what isn’t, because suddenly Ba Ye is turning towards him, a look of relief flashing over his face. “Lieutenant! You are awake! Please, please tell these people who I am!” He sounds worried but also a little irritated and whiny, and so much like the Ba Ye Zhang Rishan remembers. For a moment he allows himself to just watch Ba Ye come over and squat down in front of him. He had obviously tried to wipe his glasses off on his equally stained scarf resulting in smudged pale lines all over his glasses and his face.

And he has to fight the urge to reach out and touch, to convince himself that Ba Ye is real, because he has been dead and gone for almost 80 years. Even if they never found his body, even if he had been hidden somewhere by Qiu De Kao for whatever reason there is just no way for him to be alive right now, alive and the same, he is no Zhang, he has no qilin blood.

Wu Xie kneeling down beside him, half on Zhang Qiling’s sleeping bag, breaks the moment. “You know him” and although it’s not a question Zhang Rishan nods. He glances at Wu Xie, who looks worried but also curious and intrigued, always drawn to mysteries. Pangzi and Liu Sang come over, too, placing themselves behind Ba Ye like they are prepared to grab and restrain him if he tries anything, but they look at Zhang Rishan. With at least 5 pairs of expectant eyes on him, probably six, he has to squish the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness that wants to crawl out and drape itself all over him. Instead he consciously straightens his back, squares his shoulders and shifts to sit cross-legged.

He has no idea what’s going on here, no idea how to tell Ba Ye where or rather when he is now (because right now he can’t fight the acceptance that this is a living, breathing Ba Ye who just hasn’t aged a day) or what happened in the pool or if everything did really happen like he thinks. If that being had been there, in the pool and had granted him a wish he hadn’t ever put into words, had made a fleeting thought into a new reality. Each of them is looking at him like he has all the answers and he hates that he is sitting here on the floor of a dimly lit cave, on a sleeping bag someone else has rolled out for him, with bandages around his arms and feeling so utterly helpless. He can’t suppress the bitter thought that Fo Ye would have known what to do.

Taking a deep breath he decides to start with what he is sure of, which is the answer to Wu Xie’s “You know him”. “I do know this man, his name is Qi Tiezui, also known as Ba Ye”, and the name and the title should mean something to at least Wu Xie and maybe Huo Daofu, even if they obviously don’t recognize him from old photos. Maybe because they never paid attention to those pictures, which are faded and grainy compared to what even the simplest smartphone camera is able to capture nowadays or maybe because Ba Ye looks like he took a mud bath. Maybe both.

On to the second thing he is quite certain of: “As to what happened, I’m not really sure myself. As soon as I entered the tomb some force took over my body and I suppose Zhang Qiling's as well and we came to this cave to enact some kind of blood sacrifice ritual for whatever deity they are worshipping here.” No need to point out he had been meant to be the sacrifice, that bit is quite obvious, although he is not sure why Zhang Qiling is the one still unconscious then. “There was chanting, but I wasn’t able to understand it”, he adds, which makes Liu Sang nod at him. “Yeah, I heard you through the wall, but wasn’t able to identify the words either.”

Zhang Rishan considers asking why they hadn’t followed them into the cave and tried to stop the whole thing, if only to give him a little more time to try and find words for what happened after that, but he doesn’t have to voice his question. “Yeah, almost broke my damn nose trying to follow you two through that convenient little magic wall that suddenly turned into a real wall after you two went through, and we couldn’t find a mechanism or another entry or hear anything. Imagine our immense joy at hearing this idiot here say there’s ‘eerie chanting’!” Pangzi grumbles and there is no need for him to add that the use of some explosives had been on the table. Or had they used explosives?

“Did you blow a hole into the wall?” Zhang Rishan asks, eyeing a pile of broken stone in the vicinity of the wall, but Pangzi shakes his head. “Nah, I wanted to, but then the ground started to shake and - poof - the entrance was back and actually visible.” It takes Zhang Rishan another moment to realize the rubble is what’s left of the statue he had only glimpsed upon entering the cave. Had the earthquake destroyed it? Had it even been an earthquake?

Wu Xie humms beside him, following his line of sight for a moment before he points to the wall behind the rubble. “There are some murals depicting locals worshipping a deity that I have never seen before. But it seems to be for protection against droughts or bad harvests, your garden-variety-harvest-god to ensure plenty of food and the likes. Nothing that can bring dead people back to life.” Ah, right back to the burning question.

Ba Ye sputters quite helplessly at that. “Dead? What do you mean dead? Do I look dead to you? Lieutenant, what is going on here, who are these people?” Considering that Ba Ye’s face is still mostly covered in white it wouldn’t be that unreasonable to mistake him for a ghost. But beneath that he doesn’t look dead or like a walking corpse, he looks just like Zhang Rishan remembers him, just like the last time he had seen him before he had vanished. And he still has no idea how to tell Ba Ye that everyone he knows is dead. Well, everyone except Zhang Rishan.

“I’m Wu Xie, this is Wang Pangzi, Liu Sang, Luo Que and behind me are Huo Daofu and Zhang Qiling.” Wu Xie blindly pats Zhang Qiling’s lower leg when he says his name, his eyes never leaving Ba Ye’s face, gauging his reaction to two familiar family names. And Ba Ye doesn’t disappoint, confusion clearly written all over his face. He is mouthing ‘Wu’ and ‘Huo’ while his eyes scan Wu Xie’s face before he looks at Zhang Rishan with a mixture of confusion, incomprehension and helplessness.

“He is Wu Laogou’s grandson”, Zhang Rishan says softly, because their relation is the most obvious to emphasize how much time has passed and the most obvious in terms of resemblance, Ba Ye must have seen that. And Zhang Rishan holds his gaze until Ba Ye looks down, takes a deep breath, closes his mouth and lets himself plop back down to sit on the ground, his whole body curling inwards. This would be a lot to take in for everybody and Zhang Rishan would like to give Ba Ye a moment to compose himself without everyone else staring at him. There are things he hasn’t told them yet, but he is still not sure how to put any of that into words.

“Did the murals say anything about something being confined here?” Zhang Rishan asks Wu Xie, who just looks puzzled. “Confined? What do you mean?” And he really has to try and put it into words, there is no way around it, is there? He takes another deep breath through his nose. “For the ceremony I was kneeling in that pool and when the tremors started I fell into whatever liquid is in there, and it was like - like there was something in there with me. Like it was a living thing with a consciousness and whatever we did in that ceremony it set that thing free.” He can already feel some doubtful looks but nobody starts to interrupt him and Wu Xie actually nods thoughtfully like he can imagine that, so he continues: “It was communicating with me, not with words, more like with feelings and impressions,” and he just waits for Huo Daofu to interrupt him, to say something about blood loss and hallucinations, but he doesn’t, he just doesn’t - “It made very clear that it had been imprisoned here for whatever purpose and that it was just so very thankful that I set it free.”

Everyone is quiet, mulling over those words. There are still so many questions, like who or what had controlled them to enact this ceremony? Had it been the imprisoned being? Or something else? But why? And who had sealed the tomb? And why?

“So you set some ancient being free and someone from your past turns up. What if he is no human but that being in the shape of someone it saw while it was inside your mind?” Liu Sang questions, looking at Ba Ye thoughtfully who stops his calculations to stare back incredulously. “What? First I’m dead, now I’m some preternatural being? Let me tell you, I’m just a fortune teller!” He acts and sounds just like Ba Ye, but Liu Sang has a point, that being had looked into his mind, had probably had access to all his thoughts and memories. It makes his head hurt even thinking about it.

Pangzi and Liu Sang start bickering about how to test that theory, to find out if someone is human and it only gets more chaotic when Zhang Qiling wakes up and Wu Xie starts worrying over him, asking him how he feels and if he is alright while Huo Daofu tries to rule out a concussion. Zhang Rishan tries to ignore them for the moment, even though he would like to get Zhang Qiling’s version of the ceremony. He feels torn between the possible explanations for this situation, but why would some ancient being that had been trapped in a cave for centuries if not millenia take human form and stay with them? To play tricks on him? Or maybe-

“Lieutenant, if so much time has passed that the grandson of Wu Laogu is at least as old as I am, how come you haven’t aged a day?” Ba Ye’s question jolts him out of these thoughts. “It’s a Zhang-family-thing”, he answers, because Ba Ye already knows so much about their family that it should be enough. Ba Ye nods, visibly brightening at the answer, as if he had hoped for something along those lines. “So, why don’t we just ask Fo Ye for help to prove I’m just a normal human? I mean, if that being was in your head and knows what you know it doesn’t know everything about me.”

Of course he would think of Fo Ye as the answer to everything and of course Zhang Rishan has to say it now. He shakes his head slightly and forces himself to watch Ba Ye’s face and catalogue his reaction. “No. Fo Ye is not with us anymore.” It’s cruel, so cruel to tell him like this and Zhang Rishan hates it even more than he hates saying the words at all. Ba Ye’s whole face crumples but he visibly tries to hide his distress. “How on earth am I supposed to prove I’m just a normal human, then?” he bristles, obviously trying to distract himself with anger. “Tell me! What should I do!” Those last words are directed towards Pangzi and Liu Sang behind him who actually stop their bickering and have the grace to look embarrassed.

“Why would that being even want to stay here? What could be in it for... it?” Pangzi voices Zhang Rishan’s thoughts from before. “Maybe it needs help to leave the cave?” Wu Xie suggests, joining the conversation again after assuring himself that Zhang Qiling is fine aside from a cut on his forehead. “Or maybe it’s just lonely and looking for some company?” Huo Daofu throws in and Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if it’s meant to be a joke or a real suggestion. But if they are just casually throwing around theories he can add one, too.

“Maybe it’s an illusion.” Even if there is no meteorite around and even if he had set that theory aside before. Ba Ye inhales sharply at that suggestion and slaps Zhang Rishan’s knee a little harder than necessary. “Aiya! An Illusion? Does that feel like an illusion? Is there a meteorite around that you haven’t told me about? Shouldn’t you be able to tell the difference?” Ba Ye slaps him again and Zhang Rishan just lets him, flinching only a little. It makes Luo Que beside him tense noticeably, like he contemplates grabbing Ba Ye’s arm and stopping him from hitting his boss, but in the end he doesn’t move and just watches.

“Should I? I mean you were the one who realized it was an illusion back then, and you guided us out of it.” Ba Ye harrumphs at that, knitting his brows. “It’s not an illusion”, Wu Xie says and the certainty in his voice makes it easy to just accept it. After all Wu Xie had come with him and should be a real person, even if they stepped into some fake world at some point, just like Fo Ye, Ba Ye, Er Ye and Chen Pi had been real people who stepped into the meteorite.

“Thank you!” Ba Ye says, giving Wu Xie a small bow. “And if you let me, I can show you that I am perfectly capable of leaving this place all on my own.” Which leaves them with: a lonely godly being looking for company (or a bored godly being looking for some fun?) or the possibility that it is really Ba Ye.

For a moment everyone is quiet again and Zhang Rishan takes the chance to ask Zhang Qiling how he had experienced being possessed or remote controlled or whatever it had been. His answer is disappointingly simple and his experience almost the same as Zhang Rishan’s, except that he had not been in contact with another consciousness but had been knocked out really hard by something as soon as the cave had started to shake. Which confirms Zhang Rishan’s suspicion that there had been something with him in the pool.

He gets up, startling both Ba Ye and Luo Que with the sudden movement, making them stand up with him as if they are preparing to catch him again. It’s endearing and disconcerting at the same time and he opts to ignore the way it makes him feel for the moment, but tucks the feeling away to pick it apart later.

The pool is surprisingly dry and empty, but covered in the same white flaky residue both Zhang Rishan and Ba Ye are covered in, which is reassuring because it means there had been something before. For a moment Zhang Rishan just stares at the empty pool, trying and failing to find a hole or a crack in the stone through which the liquid could have vanished. Surely it did not just evaporate into thin air? His memory is not clear enough to dispel the thought that maybe the liquid had not vanished but changed its shape and made itself into a human being.

“Huh? Why is it empty?” Pangzi asks which makes Zhang Rishan release a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. “It wasn’t empty when you could get in?” he reassures himself, looking at the other man. “Hah! Wish it had been, do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of that stuff?” Pangzi snorts and points at the smudged edge of the pool, where a very visible track of white covers the ground all the way over to their sleeping bags. It also makes Zhang Rishan notice the white smudges all over Pangzis clothes only to find the man grinning at him when he looks up again. The corners of his mouth twitch involuntarily in quiet amusement and he nods his thanks, which makes Pangzi grin even more.

With the pool providing no answers at all Zhang Rishan walks over to the wall to look at the murals, soon joined by Wu Xie who points to the parts of the murals he had mentioned before. It shows a group of people in clothing Zhang Rishan has never seen building this tomb. Maybe some minority? They have no idea how old this tomb is, after all or how long it had been sealed. In the next part of the mural it almost looks like they are summoning the unknown god and not merely worshipping and some part of Zhang Rishan’s mind resonates with that thought. The ceremony looks just like what the two of them had enacted, one person in the pool and the other at the altar with a dagger. But it almost seems like the sacrifice on the mural dissolves into the pool, a thought he really doesn’t want to dwell on.

After that the mural gets quite confusing, depicting the statue that is broken now and people celebrating rich harvests, without any clear connection. He looks back at the picture of the god, tracing the faded lines with his fingers trying to recall everything the being in the pool had tried to tell him through thoughts and feelings and suddenly he understands. Or at least he thinks he does.

“They didn’t worship the god, they captured it and confined it in here because as long as it was here everything around it would be thriving, rich harvests, no sicknesses, people living long and full lives.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true and he finds Wu Xie nodding next to him. “So, you set that god free and as a gesture of thanks it returned a dead person from your past?” And Zhang Rishan knows dead people don’t come back to life, but this is a god they are talking about and it had made everything else grow, had kept people healthy and strong. Maybe it could do this too?

“I’m still not dead and I was never dead!” Ba Ye protests from beside him and reminds Zhang Rishan that he still doesn’t know what happened when Ba Ye vanished back then, how or when he died. He looks at him and contemplates asking just that but somehow he is afraid of the answer. “Maybe you died and you just forgot.” Pangzi says, pushing at one of the larger rocks left over from the statue with his foot.

“How would someone forget his own death, this is ridiculous! An hour ago I was just in my room, enjoying a nice cup of tea and suddenly I find myself in this cave, almost drowning in that pool!” Ba Ye gestures wildly and angrily with his arm, almost slapping Zhang Rishan in the face in the process, but Pangzi is unimpressed. “How could you not forget your death? Or the fact that you died. Maybe you just dropped dead drinking your tea, things like that happen. Who knows.”

“He didn’t drop dead, he vanished without a trace, leaving everything behind”, Zhang Rishan interjects. If Ba Ye had just dropped dead there would have been a funeral and it would have been just as sad and hard, but there wouldn’t have been a mystery, no reason to wish to know what happened.

“Well, maybe he did drop dead and that god plucked his body from the past, brought him back to life and put him here”, Wu Xie shrugs, “I mean, my terminal lung cancer got healed by magic golden coffin water in thunder city, so it’s not that far-fetched.”

And - oh, oh - realisation hits him like a punch to the sternum, taking his breath away, almost making him double over and sink to his knees. It had been him. Ba Ye never just vanished, had never been kidnapped by the Japanese or Qiu De Kao. He had never died, he had been snatched away by this being - god - whatever - and placed here and now, with Zhang Rishan, because it had wanted to give him something he had lost. But Ba Ye had never been lost, he had been stolen, stolen because Zhang Rishan is selfish and thoughtless and cruel and - He has done this. He has done this to Ba Ye. And to Fo Ye. And -

He can’t breathe. How can he ever say this? How can he ever tell Ba Ye? He can never be forgiven for this, there is no way, absolutely no way. Look out for Ba Ye, that had been his order, the one most important to Fo Ye and thus the most important to Zhang Rishan. And he had failed, miserably - no, he had done the opposite! And for the first time in quite a while he wishes Fo Ye was the one with a long life and not him. Fo Ye would never have done something so stupid.

Unbidden he remembers the illusion he had fallen victim to below the Chen tree, Fo Ye with his gun pointed at him, disappointed, so disappointed and he wishes it had been real, that he had died that day so he would have never been able to come here today. But Ba Ye had been missing before, he had vanished before Zhang Rishan had ever been to this tomb and shared his memories with a god. There would have been no reason to wish to know what happened that day if nothing had happened. And that really makes his head hurt, how is it even possible? How does this work, today and the past linked like this? Like it had always been meant to be this way?

[hellisheuphoria]

Chapter 6: Conceal.

The MC has their true feelings exposed.

[This chapter contains scenes depicting mental breakdowns, anxiety/panic attacks and suicidal thoughts, so please read at your own risk. And thank you for reading, stay safe <3]

You heard the front door click open and a group of voices rushing in from the entrance. You stood still, panicked and frozen- your mind completely blank. You picked up your bags and ran out of your room and to the only place you knew you could go.

You sprinted across the hallway. It was hard to run with the bags in your hands, and you couldn’t help but drop a few things.

You stopped in front of the dollhouse and remembered the time when you and Beel looked for Luke in there after he disappeared inside of the closet.

You noticed the riddle engraved in the small walls of the dollhouse, written in the language of angels, which Beel translated for you.

When the morning star dwelt in the heavens, its light shone down upon this one, sparkling brilliantly, the eighth of the eight.

Your fingers brushed the wood, an aura of melancholy radiating from the slightest touch.

”The morning star was another name for Lucifer,” you spoke out loud, “And the eighth child of the eight was Lilith.”

A blinding, white light engulfed you and you felt as though you were floating, suspended in midair. Everything ceased to exist for a moment, and you held your breath, keeping your eyes shut.

At last, a hard floor emerged from beneath you and your feet landed upon it. You opened your eyes to find yourself in Lilith’s room.

All the furniture was still draped in white, bland sheets that took away the beauty of this place. It held melancholy, pain and grief, yet you could sense the memories that once made this place so special. It almost made you feel bad to be breaking into it.

You let go of your bags and sat down, pulling your knees up to your chest and letting yourself rest for what felt like eternity. God, you were exhausted.

You heard a ping! from your phone and picked it up, seeing a few texts from Beel. You hesitated for a few seconds, but opened up the app anyways. It’s not as though he could find you just by reading his texts, right?

Beel

Hey, MC.

I know a lot has happened these past few months and you probably don’t want to talk to me, but..

Please, just hear me out, okay? If I can’t talk to you physically, this is the second best I can do.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you, MC. I know that I’ve been absolutely selfish for not being able to tell how you’ve been feeling for however long it’s been going on, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you before it escalated, I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings.

I don’t want to make this too long, so I’ll try and keep it short. MC, I only want to help you- we all do. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’m concerned for you. I’m not mad at you for running away, I’m mad at myself for not knowing why. I could have helped you, and I didn’t. I didn’t even notice. We just want the best for you, Belphie included. Even if he might be the cause of this. It was our fault for not noticing.

You’re so kind and considerate, and I’m ashamed of myself for not being the same back. Please forgive me if you can find it in your heart to do so.

-Beel.

You felt an air of shame surround you. Beel had a heart the same size as his hunger, and it you could feel the sadness he felt from reading his texts.

Perhaps it was time for you to stop being so evasive... maybe- it was time for you to answer their questions, to reveal what you truly felt on the inside.

It had tormented you for so long, the fear of being exposed, to be stripped bate for everyone to see what truly hid underneath- for them to be broken from their masks and lenses of lies and ignorance.

Was it really worth it? Was it worth it to worry about this for the rest of your minuscule, almost pointless life? Did they deserve your lies?

Were you worth it?

As sweet as they were, they were demons, nonetheless. Angels that fell from grace, their souls corrupted and blackened, their purity decayed and rotten.

How could they possibly understand? They couldn’t understand. Why should they? Human lives were pointless and non-existent when compared to theirs. Humans were weak and vulnerable, easily manipulated with just a few sentences.

Did they truly care for you at all? Did they only think of you as a replacement for their late, dear sister? Another Lilith?

Would you have been discarded and thrown away like trash if they did not know of your heritage? After all, the apple never falls far from the tree.

It was hard to trust people in the Devildom. It was hard to trust anyone at all, really. It was suffocating being so.. alone, no matter how isolated and distant you were.

It felt hard to breathe, again. The air felt constricting and hot.

No one could be trusted.

No one at all.

You let out a strangled sob, tears pouring down your reddened cheeks as you held onto yourself from comfort, crying for some sort of validation.

You were weak and spineless, and you brushed your hand in your hair as you tried to console yourself as silently as you could. You were truly alone. Vulnerable and scarred on the inside and outside. Maybe there really was no hope for you.

Salty, hot tears rushed down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but weep uncontrollably, your back arched and your arms wrapping around your shaking body.

Everything hurt so much, it felt as though you were being strangled again, pinned to the wall and unable to move. It was like dying all over again, and you couldn’t help but scream.

It felt like something was suffocating you, sitting on your chest like a bag of bricks. The air suddenly turned cold and you jumped, terrified of being attacked in your horrible, sensitive state.

You hid your face in your hands and sank down to the floor, wishing to disappear and never come back. What hope was there left? What was the point of your existence?

You screamed in your hands and went rigid, your entire body exhibiting naked emotion.

Everything was tuned out. The world simply didn’t exist anymore, and neither did anyone else. Except you.

Yet, you still failed to notice someone else entering the room, completely flabbergasted at what was happening in front of them.

”MC!” Beel yelled, frozen in a state of panic and pulsing waves of anger. It was absolutely sickening to witness you crumble into pieces on the floor, holding onto yourself hard enough to leave bruises. He would later beat himself up for being so ignorant.

He immediately fell to the floor and tried to hold you. He wanted to console you, to comfort you, but he couldn’t.

You felt so vulnerable and exposed. It was like reliving your death at the hands of Belphegor, and so when Beel tried to touch you, you screamed and crawled away from him, shifting yourself into the corner so he wasn’t even within arms length of you.

He immediately recoiled when you screamed, and felt his heart drop at the sight of you cowering away like an injured lamb.

You wailed, “Don’t touch me! Stop- get- get away from me!” You pulled up your knees and wrapped your arms around them, trying to disappear, if you could.

”Please- don’t hurt me- not again! Leave me alone- I beg you!”

Beel slowly shuffled closer, and tried to talk in the most calm and quiet voice he could muster up, careful not to rattle you any further.

”MC, it’s Beel, I’m not-“ he felt disgusted at seeing what his twin brother had done to you. He had broken you far from recognition, shattered you into pieces and left you by yourself to pick them up. He had defiled you. And the worst thing was that he allowed him to. It was almost as repulsive as doing it himself. “I’m not Belphie. I’m not going to hurt you,”

He held his arms wide enough for you to crawl into his embrace. “I want to help, MC. Please listen, I’m here for you.”

You looked up at him, shaken and tear-ridden, ashamed of mistaking him as a monster.

”Beel...?” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat scratchy and aching.

He nodded, “Yes, MC. It’s me.”

You jumped into his embrace, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around you and sat there, waiting for you to calm down, almost collapsing in tears, himself.

You two sat there for a while, not saying anything but appreciating each other’s company. Everything came to a standstill, and you were glad that nothing could be heard from here.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke after a while, ashamed of being seen like this, so exposed and weak.

He looked down at you and shook his head, “No, MC. You’re not the one who should be apologising, that should be me.”

”I wish I noticed, I’m so sorry.”

It was probably enough, at this point. If you had to put up with this for any longer, you may as well just not put up with anything, and let go.

If your life was just gonna be full of this horrible torture, the only way to be rid of this was to not be here any longer. To cease to live.

If only you could just double over and die. You would be so grateful to the demon that would end your misery in this twisted universe.

Your stupid, worthless life had no meaning anyway. There was nothing permanent in life. Friends would drift away, no matter how close you were or how long you’d know each other. And family members could not live forever either.

One day, you wouldn’t live. Be it at your hands or someone else’s. Maybe even nature.

It felt shameful and piteous to be seen like this- to feel like this. What was the point in living any longer?

People would laugh at you, they would judge you, they would hurt you- no matter if they were an angel, a demon or human. You would forever be judged.

Maybe some people thought of you as confident; maybe some of them thought of you as kind or considerate. Hell, maybe some of them thought of you as hardheaded or stubborn.

If you were to change yourself, you would always have a different version of yourself in everyone’s mind. There would never be the same version of yourself in anyone’s point of view. What was the point in redemption? You would never feel satisfaction so long as there is somebody that thinks of you in an ill-mannered way.

You were tired of thinking. You were tired of everything. You kept your arms around Beel and eased your body, letting yourself relax. He wrapped his arms around your form and scooped you up, letting you rest against him.

He kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I’ll make everything right, MC. I swear.”

How sweet of him.

Your weary, red eyes closed, and you drifted away to a world where nothing could hurt you, and you were at peace. Away from this corrupt reality and hollow world.

[This chapter is really triggering, so please don’t hesitate to talk to me if you’re feeling like you need to vent or if you need any solace <3]

[its-sixxers]

Harmonics

Charon once played guitar - a scrap of information more precious than gold. The Lone Wanderer recalls it in the depths of her grief. Both realize that even in the wasteland, neither of them are alone. Charon x Female LW, pre-relationship.

Sorta sequel to Hobbies.

AO3 Link

Charon had mentioned he once played guitar.

Scraps of information about him were rare as intact books and Lizzy was intent on building herself a library with what was offered. Information about what he liked was most precious of all - it took her a couple of weeks to even persuade him to talk about anything beyond his contract, and a couple of months to get him talking about his own personal desires. While the faded slip of paper she kept in the inner pocket of her vault suit said otherwise, she and Charon were equals. She wanted to get him a gift to prove it.

The best part about gifts was the surprise, to Lizzy, and so tracking down a guitar presented a thorny problem indeed. Time spent apart from Charon was scant, and he seemed tense the few times she told him to go do as he pleased. When questioned on it, he said it was always more comfortable for him to stick around and her heart hurt to imagine just what was done to make him feel that way.

Still, she took advantage of what time she had - chatting to Rivet City merchants about possible sightings while Charon was distracted, slipping Crazy Wolfgang fifty caps to keep an eye out as Charon inspected a shotgun grip. Lizzy lingered in the magazine and instrument sections of libraries, sneaking reading material into her bag to figure out just what went into making a guitar work. She even made up an excuse to get them into the area of Agatha’s cabin so that she could check in with the violinist and see if her plan was feasible - and found to her delight that yes, it was.

Crazy Wolfgang eventually came through for her with the guitar, and she enlisted Butch’s help in delivering it unseen. To Lizzy’s despair, the strings were broken or rusted away, but Butch reassured her that at least the body was good, giving it a rap with his knuckles to prove his point. So her search narrowed from a guitar to strings, and even as her work for her father and the Brotherhood picked up she kept an eye out for her quarry. The nights she spent in Megaton (growing increasingly rare, with how much DC needed her) saw her sanding out splinters from the guitar body and varnishing it as best she could. Lizzy winced to see that polish only seemed to bring out a bloodstain on the thing more, but supposed Charon wouldn’t mind.

Blood was just another part of living in the wasteland, natural as snow or rain.

Lizzy soon learned the full breadth of what that meant, and the guitar was forgotten.

Her father’s death made her forget a lot of things - forget why she was trying to put one foot in front of the other, forget that her suffering was echoed by so many other poor souls out in the world. Weeks were spent in a hazy state, eating only at Charon’s urging and starting to dip into the few bottles of alcohol she’d collected. The growing cold outside mirrored the numbness that was spreading through her after she found she had no tears left to cry.

Charon spent more time apart from her out of necessity - it was he who went to see what the caravans had now, who went to Gob’s Saloon to find out the news, who even braved getting them raw meals from the Brass Lantern. When she slept in (slept was a generous term, for she often spent upwards of an hour lying limply in bed in the morning) he’d place a large hand on her shoulder to wake her. His contract meant he had to keep her alive - at least, that was what she told herself. Nothing more.

It was when Charon was out doing yet another thing that used to be her responsibility that she heard a knock on the door. Lizzy dragged herself from the couch where she’d been re-reading the same sentence of her book for the past thirty minutes and tugged open the front door of her Megaton home.

Butch stood with his leather jacket zipped up and knit mittens on his hands, holding a small box. Snowflakes stuck to his pompadour as he fell, and with every exhale his breath puffed out in a fog, reminding her of how they pretended it was smoke back in the vault’s freezer as children. Lizzy could remember the look of horror on her father’s face when he discovered them, her own bewilderment as to how the place could be dangerous. She flinched from the memory, and her dry eyes stung.

“Hey.” Butch said, his smile faltering at the sight of her. While not vain by any means, Lizzy had always placed importance on looking professional and put together - now she couldn’t remember the last time she brushed her hair.

“Hey.” she replied flatly, hand leaning limply against the doorway, subconsciously trying to bar him from entering. Lizzy couldn’t bear the sight of his smile, how it reminded her of the vault, of times when it felt like she’d follow in her father’s footsteps and everything was warm and bright. The fact that she felt such a way toward her best friend in the world filled her with guilt, her cup already overflowing. Guilt was the one emotion that broke through the numbness, and she was drowning in it.

“I found something in Rivet City Supply.” he began. “Had to cash in a favor with Seagrave, but I thought you’d like to see.”

In spite of herself, Lizzy’s eyes dropped to the box in his hands, curiosity sparking for the briefest of moments. Butch moved his thumb from the label, and in faded ink she could read “BKM Guitar Strings”. The cellophane window of the box was still intact, and within she could see shining metal strings.

“You came all this way…” Lizzy’s throat was dry from lack of use, most of the communication she’d done with Charon nonverbal. “... to give me these?”

“I know you were looking for them.” Butch looked over her shoulder and into the house, likely searching for Charon judging by what he said next. “For the big guy.” He held the box out to her, and she took it from him. “I’m gonna be staying up at Gob’s for the next couple’a days. I’d stay and chat now, but Moira wants to interview me about hairstyling.” He made a display of rolling his eyes, and Lizzy knew he was just making up an excuse.

It was a feeling the two of them shared, pain from family. A wish to keep their grief hidden, to keep it manageable and clean. For all the teasing he’d done to her in their childhood, he knew precisely when and how to dodge a painful subject entirely.

Sensation hummed in her fingertips, brushing the old cardboard and tingling in the cold. Lizzy nodded. “I’ll stop by.” she said, not entirely certain it was a lie. The guitar. She’d forgotten about the guitar, an idea born of the time before, when the sun wasn’t so cold and remote. Now the project was rekindled in her mind, something separate from the cloud that loomed over her.

Butch tilted his chin up in acknowledgement. “Say hi to the big guy for me.”

“You’ll probably see him on your way out.”

“He’s a hard guy to miss, I’ll give you that.” He laughed, turning back to Megaton’s many platforms. He cast her one last concerned look over his shoulder before she shut the door.

Lizzy moved faster than she had in weeks, the metal stairwell echoing from her hurried footsteps. She took the box into her room and shut the door before falling to her knees and crawling forward to her bed. Setting the box upon the mattress she set her palms flat against the cold metal floor, finding the panel she was looking for and pulling it open, revealing a floor compartment. Within were her most treasured possessions - her mother’s holotapes, the photographs from her tenth and sixteenth birthdays with Dad and Jonas, Butch’s first leather jacket. With them were items of value - an engraved magnum, an intact camera and film, a half empty bottle of scotch, and the guitar body. Lizzy pulled it out of the hidden floor compartment and retrieved a rolled up instructional booklet from inside of it.

The next two hours were spent sat on her bed with necessary tools in hand, stringing the guitar. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings, the saying went - and with her hands put to work Lizzy was incapable of thinking of the guilt that threatened to drown her. At some point Charon returned, and his knock at her door startled her terribly.

Lizzy froze, vaguely recollecting that surprise was a large part of why she’d gone to such lengths. If she was discovered now, all the work had been for nothing - and she couldn’t bear something else hoped for being snuffed out. To her relief, Charon did not try to enter. She must have made a noise when he startled her, for he seemed satisfied enough that she was still alright judging by his retreating footsteps.

Soon after her work was complete, and she almost wept on the instrument from relief. So much work, so much time, and now she had something in her arms to show for it, unlike…

Unlike…

It reminded her why venturing out of her carefully constructed bubble was a mistake, for she had no cushioning, no numb protection to the raw assault of memory. A hand pressed to glass, fingerprints on the glass, the geiger counter, the geiger counter -

The bath faucet in the other room turned on, the movement of the water through pipes gently rattling the wall the bathroom shared with her room. It brought her back to the present, staring down at the guitar. Lizzy mopped at her wet cheeks, clinging to the last stage of her project. The gifting itself. Thinking up solutions to the problem crowded out her memory - Charon only took what was directly offered to him if it was ammunition or a grenade. With food or medical supplies, she’d have to make a point of having it appear as if she was doing it for her own sake and creating plausible deniability - a gift of convenience.

When she cracked open her bedroom door, she could hear water splashing from the bathroom next door, the familiar sound of Charon’s large form sinking into it. Even in her state she felt a little swell of happiness to know that he was willing to let himself have such a luxury. Assured he’d be kept busy more than long enough for her to do what she had planned, she picked up the guitar by the neck and crept downstairs into the living room. A fire crackled away happily in the wood burning stove in the corner devoted to the kitchen, and the ground floor was much warmer than her room. It was too warm - too close to reminding her what times before felt like, and so she hurried. Approaching the couch, she set the guitar down in Charon’s favorite spot, in front of the blanket Moira had crocheted her as a housewarming present.

As soon as she was certain the guitar wasn’t going to fall over, she retreated back into the familiar territory of her bedroom. The chill washed over her, icing out not just the wave of memory threatening to drown her again but the fluttering embers of joy her work had given her.

Lizzy stumbled over to her bed and fell upon the mattress. The haze began anew.

When she returned downstairs in the night to grab a bottle of water, the guitar was gone.

--

Charon didn’t mention the gift, but the next day he woke her with breakfast and an announcement.

“I believe it is best that we go somewhere today.”

Lizzy hauled herself upright and looked at him blankly, her fork scooping up small portions of instamash. “Where?”

While his stony posture and expression didn’t change, she heard him exhale in relief. “Gob’s. They think I’ve kidnapped you.”

“Mm.” she hummed, finding she didn’t feel strongly one way or another. Lizzy didn’t protest when Charon handed her a brush in exchange for her empty plate, and soon she was bundled up and shuffling through the snow to Gob’s Saloon.

Butch was eating breakfast, and Nova’s face lit up to catch sight of her. She poked her head into the back room, and soon Gob was walking out of the kitchen wiping his hands with a rag. Charon placed a hand to the small of Lizzy’s back and gave her a gentle nudge forward.

The next period of time - Lizzy had lost the ability to gauge its passage - was a mirror world of normal circumstance - now it was Lizzy giving short and clipped responses to any conversation, and Charon exchanging longer sentences. What was discussed left her memory the moment it was spoken, and soon enough Charon was tugging her hat back over her ears and guiding her back outside.

“Charon.” Lizzy murmured, when they were back outside. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Is that an order?”

“No.”

He nodded briefly, strands of patchy red hair falling across his brow. “It is my duty to protect you.”

It was all he offered in reply, and she accepted it as she always did.

Going out was a mistake, she realized that night - new color was given to her nightmares, the armored men who’d broken into the Memorial breaking into the Saloon as she visited, the scene melting into Butch, Gob, and Nova staring up at her with glassy eyes, melting into her father’s kind face, gone slack, the tick tick tick ramping into a metallic screech with exploding rads, Charon’s arms tugging her away-

Charon.

Lizzy blearily opened her eyes, greeted by the sight of her room illuminated in the deep blue of early dawn. It was a welcome sight, an escape from the nightmare, and she lay with her cheek crushed against the mattress staring at the wall until the blue light started to tinge pink and sleep threatened to claim her once again.

Movement had to be made, and with great effort Lizzy untangled herself from the blankets, coiled around her from the thrashing she’d no doubt done in her sleep. When she opened her door she was surprised to find the door across the hall that led to Charon’s room was wide open, granting her a rare glimpse of his spartan quarters. He never needed to sleep much, but the pre-dawn was early even for him. The change made a bubble of dread rise in her throat - and she walked to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

The pipes groaned when she turned the tap, the water cold enough to make her gasp when she splashed it on her face with cupped hands. It shocked her out of her dream state and brought reality into sharp focus.

In her new clarity, she could hear something faint coming from downstairs once the pipes had settled, and it took her a few moments to register that it was music. It sounded nothing like the radio, lacking distortion and also entirely different from anything played on it. Guitar strings, plucked one by one in a simple melody. Lizzy took a few steps out onto the landing, and peered as far over the railing as she dared to the living room.

Charon sat on the couch with the guitar in his lap, dwarfed by his large form. He was twisting the metal tabs on the guitar’s head, plucking a few notes, then twisting another - she recalled from the books she’d read that he was tuning it, something she lacked the knowledge and equipment to do. The metal floor panel beneath her right foot creaked, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers.

Caught out, she froze, horrified that she’d made a misstep and seen something she shouldn’t have - but Charon just dropped his attention back to the guitar, unperturbed. He plucked a few more notes before giving the guitar a single strum. The sound reverberated through her small shack, and caused goosebumps to rise on the back of her neck.

When the echo of the strum faded he started playing properly, and Lizzy found herself slowly descending the stairs, the torn hem of her nightgown trailing behind her. Slowly she approached the living room, feet thankful to move from cold metal to throw rug. The music was a siren song, simple and warm notes intertwining in a rhythmic and almost hypnotic pattern. Truly hypnotizing was seeing Charon’s hands at work, large fingers suddenly dextrous and precise, hands that seemed built to destroy dancing up and down the guitar neck.

Another low sound joined the melody, and it took her a moment to realize Charon was humming, a bassy rumble of thunder. It had her sinking into the armchair across from the couch, and still Charon did not seem to mind - his attention was caught in his music, the few glances he cast her way seeming more incidental than anything.

Then he began to sing.

Not in a language she could understand - at first she thought he’d made up the sounds, so musically did it flow, but soon she recognized it had the same intonations and cadence as the few unfamiliar terms he’d used around her before. He sang as lowly as he spoke, warm and rasping as a campfire. The melody was terribly melancholy, but to her surprise Lizzy found it did not make her sad.

It made her feel understood.

The two of them sat only a few feet apart, the ambient blue light fading into the pink of sunrise. Shafts of golden light spilled through the holes in the roof. In the warmth of dawn, even Charon’s features were softened. For those few minutes the small space seemed another world, their exteriors cut open and bared to the other, each observing but saying nothing. When he made eye contact with her after trailing off of a particularly low and mournful note, she realized that she did not suffer alone.

Something about it comforted her. When at last Charon placed his palm over the strings to silence them and set the guitar aside, she inhaled sharply as she had when she splashed the cool water onto her face.

“What was it about?” she asked quietly, and to her surprise he smiled tiredly at her - a rarer sight than diamonds.

“A warning.”

Lizzy stared at him for several moments, watching the muscles in his jaw work - as if trying to work up the words to say something more. Whatever battle he fought, he lost.

“Thank you.” she said, more a whisper than anything - but he heard it in the still silence of dawn.

Charon nodded, breaking eye contact and staring at his lap for a few moments before standing. “I will get us some food.”

“No, it’s okay.” Lizzy interjected, at last finding it in her to smile. “I’ll make it.”

[jstlikemagic]

For The First Time. - Jeff Wittek Imagine

Title: For the First Time.

Pairing: Jeff Wittek/Reader

Rating: PG-13 (swears!)

TW: Anxiety mentioned (lightly but present)

Summary: Y/N isn’t handling quarantine well and what’s going on in the world but Jeff doesn’t notice.

A/N: So, I saw this post that said “Physically I am two days away from July, emotionally I am still processing February.” I feel that down to my core. The real thing that’s been keeping me moving and significantly happy is Jeff Wittek. Which is why I decided to express my emotions of my life and where I’m at and use Jeff as the symbol of him helping me through this difficult time in the world. Also, without Jeff, I wouldn’t have any of my followers who are also the main reason why I am inspired to keep living and keep reaching for my dreams. As usual, reblog/like if you enjoyed this. Thank you so much and enjoy.

Staring at the clock, you were fixated with the noise that possessed it and the arms that were moving what felt like for ages. You were sitting on your couch in you and your boyfriends shared apartment. Your dog Nerf was cuddled up into your side, snoring like a bear per usual. He said he’d be home two hours ago. It’s now 1am. Jeff decided that he’d rather go out and hang out at David’s then stay home with you. To be fair, he didn’t know you that the events of the world were causing you to feel anxious yet so empty on the inside. You hoped he had noticed since you’d been acting off lately but he didn’t. Sitting in your spot for another five minutes, you decided it wasn’t worth waiting for him anymore and just to go to bed. You locked the door and turned to your bedroom.

Peeling the covers back, you looked at his empty side. You never really went to bed without him, mostly because he always wanted to crash before you due to his early schedule he followed on the daily. Crawling into bed, you felt the cold and bare side. Would I be feeling this way if he was with me right now? Would I be less sad if I could just feel his warmth in the moment? Soon enough, you felt your eyes get heavy and you drifted off to sleep.

*

You woke up to the sound of Nerf crying for you to take him out. “Nerf, wasn’t daddy supposed to take you out?” You asked. Wow, he must’ve not come home. Taking Nerf’s leash, you hooked it up to his collar and opened your front door. Right as you walked out your apartment door, you saw him. Disheveled hair, same clothes he wore yesterday, and a few stains that marked his clothes.

“Hey, baby. How are you? I missed you, sorry I didn’t tell ya I was sleeping over David’s,” he tried to apologize before giving you a kiss on the cheek. Blatantly brushing him off, you gave him a quick ‘mhm’ and carried on your way to walk Nerf. Is he even gonna turn around and ask what’s wrong? 

Taking Nerf around the block, he did his business and you both headed back to your apartment. Right when you entered the apartment, you unhooked Nerf’s leash and Nerf went hobbling over to Jeff, who was sitting at the table in his “work space.” “Hey Y/N, can you get the dog out of here? He’s making too much noise and I’m trying to focus,” he hollered at you.

Rolling your eyes, you walked into his work space and picked Nerf up. “Anything for you, I guess,” you mumbled in Jeff’s direction.

“Hey, whats with this attitude today. Huh?” he questioned you with his heavy New York accent. You didn’t even have the time to contemplate to decide if you wanted to release the emotional distress you had been in. It just came out immediately.

“What’s with the attitude? My boyfriend chose to go to sleepover at David fucking Dobrik’s house and not even tell me? What if I was worried about you? What if I love and care for you so much that I just wanted to know if you were alive?” you yell at him. Okay, yes this wasn’t the main point but you didn’t want to sound selfish and be like ‘why weren’t you home when I needed you most?’

Taken back by your actions, he came right back full force, not trying to contain his anger at all. “You know what? Maybe I don’t need my clingy fuckin’ girlfriend bein’ all up in my business! You should just mind your own business and let me work on this video.” Clearly frustrated, he huffed and went back to working on his laptop.

Tears welling in your eyes, you backed up while shaking your head. “You don’t even see it do you? You don’t see that every since quarantine, I’ve changed. That I’m still having to process my shit that happened before quarantine while still processing that the world is fucked right now. Do you even know me anymore?” you raised your voice on the last sentence. Was it possible that you were just a stranger to him? Was it possible he didn’t even notice you were a ghost within your own body.

“Y/N, baby. You need to relax, this isn’t like y-“

“Relax? You want me to relax?” He fueled your fire again. “Why do you like to pretend that everything is okay? And that none of this shit is happening. You cannot pretend that nothing is wrong!”

Getting up from his seat, he walked closer to you. Being met with each others eyes, he took his thumb and brushed away your tears. Enveloping you in a hug, you sunk into him and sobbed even harder than previously. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so used to pushing things off and pretending they’re not happenin’ because it’s easier to not think about it. Baby, I wish I had known you were hurting. I’m so sorry and please don’t ever think that I tried to pretend you weren’t hurtin’ because you know that if I did, I probably wouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Is there anythin’ you need from me?” 

Letting out a whimper, he hugged you even tighter. Running his right hand through your hair and his left hand rubbing your back, you felt yourself slowly come down from the height of your emotions. Letting go of him, you go to lay on the couch with Nerf. With an idea popping in his head, Jeff places a warm and fuzzy blanket to drape over you so you could feel comfortable.

Jeff disappeared for about ten minutes before summoning you to get up and follow him. Taking your hand, he lead you to the bathroom. The lights were off but there was an adorned glow by lit up candles surrounding your bathtub and on your sink. Slowly, he started taking your clothes off and placing them into the hamper in the corner. “I love you so much, it actually hurts. That’s why I’m gonna try and do better for you. I want you to be happy and if it takes corny shit like this, I’ll do it every fuckin’ day” he says which earned him a laugh from you. You noticed he started taking his clothes off. Throwing his clothes lazily into the hamper, he hopped into the tub first. Motioning you to come in, you hesitantly hopped in and placed your back up against his chest.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he started kneading out the knots. Working his hands into your shoulders, you could feel an immense amount of tension being lifted off your shoulders. After a while, you told him to stop and decided you just wanted to lay up against him. Feeling his heartbeat, there was a calmness that floated through the air. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace and relaxed. Leaning your head back onto his shoulder you admired him and his actions with “God I fucking love you too.”

[chrissystriped]

For the Last Time

Dear @eveningalchemist I hope you'll enjoy your @officialtolkiensecretsanta 2020 gift!

Rating: Mature/Explict

Relationships: Mairon/Melkor, Mairon/Eonwe

Word count: ca. 2200

Summary: Melkor is a captive of the Valar's army and Mairon sneaks into the camp to find him, when he is caught by Eonwe. Now he has to try to seduce his old friend to still have a chance.

A grey cat was slinking around the tents, his fur blending in with dusk and the fine ash lying on everything. The foolish Feanorians, trying to steal those accursed gems back, had provided the perfect distraction for him to try to find his Master and see him one last time.

 “Go!”, Melkor said, holding him as gently as he hadn’t done for years. “Run. Once they have me, they won’t hunt for you.”

“Come with me”, Mairon begged, clinging to him, not wanting to let him go. “Leave the Silmarils behind. Maybe they won’t follow us, once they have them.”

Melkor’s eyes flashed dangerously and he pushed him back.

“I will not give them up”, he hissed. “Go now. That’s an order.”

‘So you’d rather lose me than them?’, Mairon thought but didn’t say out loud.

It would only make his Master more furious – and he already knew the answer, had known for a while, that the damned stones had become the most important things in Melkor’s life.

 Mairon had no idea where they’d taken his Master to, but he guessed he’d be in the middle of the camp, close to the leaders’ tents and where the Silmarils were guarded. He stuck his furry head under a tentflap and looked around, listening for people coming with one ear.

Melkor wasn’t here so he quickly moved to the next tent in the row. There were no guards, everyone had run to intercept the Feanorians, maybe he’d be even able to get him out...

He couldn’t bear to think about being parted from Melkor, that was the only reason he’d defied his order to run and came back here. Eru knew what the Valar would do to his Master!

A large hand closed around his neck and lifted him up by his scruff. Mairon hissed at the Maia holding him up.

“Mairon”, Eonwe sighed, “What are you doing here?”

If Eonwe was back, the business with the Feanorians must have been resolved. He looked tired, as if it hadn’t went well, and against his will Mairon felt a tenderness grip his heart. They’d been close, a long time ago – before he’d gotten to know Melkor.

He changed his shape, Eonwe’s hand tangling in fiery hair instead of grey cat’s fur. Mairon shivered slightly, a spark of pleasure shooting through his body when Eonwe tugged on his hair and berated himself for it. He shouldn’t feel like that! But he saw the same emotions he was trying to push away in Eonwe’s eyes and maybe...

“I missed you”, he said, allowing his longing to shine in his eyes and moving his naked body seductively.

Eonwe’s hand slid down and came to rest on his neck, warm and calloused, Marion felt goose-bumps race up his spine.

“You chose to leave”, Eonwe said, his voice breaking slightly, before he continued more firmly: “You chose your path and I now take you into custody, Mairon. You will be tried and sentenced for your misdeeds.”

“Misdeeds!” Mairon huffed contemptuously, but what he felt was the same ache he’d felt when he’d realised he’d never be able to convince Eonwe to come with him. “They clipped your feathers and you didn’t even notice it”, he said soflty. “You are happy flapping your wings in your gilded cage for the amusement of the Valar. Oh, what you could have been, if you’d let yourself be free!”

Eonwe was the strongest of arms among the Ainur, they could have used him in their fight. They sky would have been theirs a long time ago. Mairon’s heart clenched at the thought of Ancalagon’s broken body in the ruins of Thangorodrim.

“Freedom does not mean to fulfil your desires at the expense of others!”

Eonwe’s eyes flashed and he shook him a little, but his grip eased when Mairon laid his hand on his chest.

“Let’s not fight”, Mairon whispered, moving closer. “I’m here now and I ask your forgiveness.”

“Oh, Mairon.”

Eonwe gently caressed his cheek and Mairon’s eyes fluttered shut. It felt so good, being touched so gently. His Master had been so angry with the world and anyone in it during the war – no, since he’d brought home these damned jewels!

Mairon wished, he’d never taken them, maybe then they’d be together now instead of him being alone and not sure anymore if he was telling Eonwe a lie to get a chance to see his Master or if he meant what he said.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the hand, stroking his cheek, his neck, his lips. He sighed softly when Eonwe’s lips met his in a feather-light kiss and clung to his strong arms, deepening it desperately. Eonwe stopped him by cupping his face between his hands.

“We shouldn’t”, he gasped. “I shouldn’t. You are my prisoner.” 

‘Am I?’, a part of Mairon thought with amusement. ‘I think, you’d let me go, if I decided to leave now.’

But that other, newely woken up part of him didn’t want to leave. He ached for Eonwe’s hands on him, his tender lips on his skin, his cock... Mairon shook himself. No! He was doing this to get to Melkor. He was bribing Eonwe with is body, so he’d let him see him.

His heart didn’t beat quicker at the gentle light in Eonwe’s eyes. His body didn’t shiver with longing at the touch of Eonwe’s hands. He was just playing this!

“Please”, he whispered. “I missed you so much, Eonwe. Let me be your prisoner tomorrow. Let’s be lovers tonight.”

Eonwe took a shuddering breath and Mairon could see that he was throwing caution out of the window. He melted into Eonwe’s embrace as he pulled him close, his lips so gentle on his own. He clung to him like one drowning – drowning in a sea of loneliness that was illuminated by the cruel light of the Silmarils. Eonwe’s large, cool hands slid over his body like a summer breeze, waking a slow, molten desire inside him.

“Oh, Mairon”, Eonwe whispered as he laid him down on his bed. “I missed you, too. So much.”

He quickly got rid of his armour, letting the pieces clank to the floor. Mairon reached out his arms to embrace him when he crawled over him, covering him with his muscular body – a soldier’s body.

They kissed again, not a summer breeze now, but a warm storm coming down from the mountains and fanning his flames. Mairon jerked his hips, bringing their erections together and gasped at the sparks of pleasure making his muscles spasm. He heard Eonwe groan, his breath ghosting over his face.

“Eonwe”, he moaned. “Please...”

It startled him how much he longed for him to take him, but his pleasure-clouded mind couldn’t be bothered to care. Eonwe whispered his name again and again, while peppering his shoulders with kisses. Mairon felt him rummaging around beside the bed. And then two oily fingers slid inside him and he moved into the touch with a keen. He felt like molten gold, hot and glowing.

Eonwe entered him slowly. There was no pain, no pain at all, just intense pleasure and the feeling of being wanted – he hadn’t felt like that for such a long time.

 Eonwe held him in his arms and combed his fingers through his hair. Mairon started to cry. He felt so raw, so confused. He’d wanted to seduce Eonwe in order to get to Melkor. And he still intended him to ask him about him, but... He hadn’t felt so loved in centuries, with Melkor preoccupied by the Silmarils and the war. He’d wished so often for their relationship to turn back into what it had been before the Valar razed Utumno and dragged his Master away to Aman – but it never had. Eonwe had taken one look at him and it had felt like they’d never been parted. How could that be?

Eonwe held him closer, humming softly.

“Did I hurt you?”, he asked, sounding worried.

Mairon laughed shakily. “No, not at all. I just...” He sniffed. “I’ll submit to your justice.”

“I can’t judge you”, Eonwe said sorrowfully. “Only the Valar have that right. But if you come with me, I promise, I’ll put in a good word for you with Manwe.”

“You would do that for me?” Mairon looked puzzled at him. “Why?”

“Because you were my... my friend”, Eonwe answered and kissed the tears off his face. “And I want you to have a second chance, despite all the horrible things I hear about you. You don’t seem so horrible now.”

Mairon sniffed. Horrible. Abhorred. What the elves called him.

“I suppose, I might have gone too far on occasion”, he said slowly, though he still didn’t really get it.

What he’d done to the elves had been first for science and later... well, they had been at war. He felt no remorse. But he didn’t voice his thoughts, he didn’t want to fight with Eonwe.

“Eonwe?”, he whispered, snuggling into him and letting his lids flutter seductively.

Eonwe sounded a little breathless, when he answered: “Yes?”

Mairon smiled a little sadly. “Would you let me see Melkor? I... I just want to say goodbye.”

Eonwe looked sternly at him for a moment and Mairon lowered his eyes.

“Fine”, he sighed then. “I’ll sneak you in. But... he might not be awake.”

There was something in Eonwe’s eyes that Mairon didn’t like at all, he felt his heart starting to race.

“I need to see him. I...” He’d heard him scream, felt the mountain’s shake with it. He needed to know how he was.

“It would be easier, if you’d turn into a cat again, I’ll distract the guards.”

“Thank you”, Mairon whispered and gave him a lingering kiss.

He meant it. Melkor would be so jealous, if he knew about this. But, Mairon thought, then he might finally remember what they had been before the Silmarils came between them. Eonwe stood up and dressed and Mairon changed his shape back into the grey cat.

 Mairon quickly slid under the side of the tent where his Master was held, while Eonwe was engaging the two Maiar who stood on guard in a conversation. It was dark inside, but his cat’s eyes caught every bit of light and he silently moved closer to the cot. He could smell blood and felt his heart beat quicker.

His Master was unconscious, he looked pale, his face drawn with pain. Mairon jumped on the bed and nuzzled his cheek. His poor Master was injured. What had they done to him? He sniffed down his body, searching for the injury. There were a few scratches on his body, but not until he reached the end of his legs did he find what gave of that strong smell of blood.

Mairon gave a desperate little howl when he saw the stumps of his legs, bandaged tightly, where his feet should be. He raced up to his Master’s face and curled up trembling around his neck. They’d mutilated him! They’d cut off his feet! And he’d just had sex with the one responsible for this!

Was that the justice of the Valar? They were his Masters enemies! How could he have thought to submit to them even for a moment? He should never have allowed himself to let his long gone feelings for Eonwe cloud his mind. Mairon felt sick – tainted.

Melkor groaned softly, chain-links clanked as he lifted a trembling hand to stroke his fur.

“Mairon?”, he whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t just leave you, Master. I can’t live without you!”

Melkor leaned his cheek against his soft, warm fur and sighed.

“Please, my flame, you need to run. I could not bear it, if they took you, too. I need to know you are save.”

Melkor pressed a kiss to his little head and Mairon gave a loud cry that told of all his heart’s pain.

“I love you, Master”, he said. “I love you forever.”

Then he shot off the bed and through the entrance, heedless of who might see him. The two guards gave a shout and he heard the flap of wings. Eonwe was following him.

Mairon ran quicker, taking the direct routes through tents, jumping over ropes and baggage packs until he reached the end of the camp and the forest edge. His heart burned with the agony of leaving his Master behind, but he ran on. He needed to get away. Away from the cruel people who’d mutilated him so.

He would do his Master’s last wish. He’d not let those get him, who’d had no mercy for his Master. The sight of the bandaged stumps haunted him. And they called him Cruel and Abhorred!

Finally he found a hollow tree and hid inside its trunk. For a long while he could hear Eonwe searching for him, calling for him, promising him things he knew now to be lies.

Mairon curled up tightly. He’d been a fool, only for a little moment. He knew better now and he would not forget.

‘You’ll hear of me again’, he thought.

It might take centuries – millennia – to build up again what they’d lost, but he would and then he would take revenge for what they’d done to Melkor.

‘I will get you out, my love’, he thought. ‘I won’t forget you.’

[kpop-zone]

Lose You To Love Me | Yeji

Genre: angst (although I think it kind of has a happy ending?)

Wordcount: 2,905

Request: I’d like to request for itzy yeji scenario where you have known that she’s been cheating on you all these time but you never confront her. Until one day you just exploded and said that you wished you never met her.

A/N: Kinda feel like this one is rushed and the ending is weak, but I hope, you can still enjoy it :D Happy angsty Valentine’s day!

Yeji had been next to you since you could think.

She had lived in a house just two blocks from yours and you had met each other in your first year of kindergarten. Although the other children had constantly changed their playing buddies, not the two of you. You were like peanut butter and jelly, inseparable. Growing up together, you saw the other change, but your friendship was the steady constant in both of your lives. No matter what hurdle came in your way, you took it together. Your first F in elementary school, the mean kids in middle school or your first heartbreak in high school. There was nothing that could shake you, because Yeji was by your side.

In the last year of high school, Yeji had confessed her feelings to you. You were taken aback because you had never thought that a girl like Yeji could fall for you. But you were also happy. What could be better than to share every aspect of your life with your best friend? So you opened yourself up to her and in no time, you felt the same. And for the first time, you experienced what complete, utter happiness felt like. Yeji fulfilled your every wish and it seemed like everything in your life was as it was supposed to be.

Therefore, you didn’t worry when you graduated. Your relationship had been through various hardships, going to college was just another new beginning that you would tackle together. You applied for the same college and you actually got in together. You felt ecstatic, blind to see that Yeji didn’t seem to be as happy as you about your luck. While you had already started to figure out a plan to take advantage of your new earned freedom, Yeji silently tagged along.

But as soon as you entered college, it was like Yeji was revitalized. She downright flourished and you were so happy to see her thriving that you didn’t even realize that you slowly drifted apart.

It was a gradual process.

First, Yeji found new friends, never introducing you to them, however, with the reasoning that you wouldn’t like them. You accepted her decision, thinking that a little separation couldn’t harm the two of you. But slowly the physical separation turned into an emotional as well. The two of you didn’t talk like you used to. You learned about important occurrences in Yeji’s life through other people and she never turned to you when she had to make a hard decision.

Having her around you, made shivers run down your spine, because the comfort that she once gave turned into a cold touch.

But you didn’t think much about it in the beginning. Every relationship had its dips, you thought. Yeji was solely figuring out who she was. There was no need to worry. As long as it just stayed with the excessive use of alcohol, blurry nights and the complete neglection of your relationship, you could still work things out.

After a while, however, you couldn’t turn a blind eye to all the other little things that accumulated over time. The smudged lipstick. The unfamiliar clothes laying in her room. The faint scent of perfume on her skin that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t dumb, but for the sake of your relationship you pretended to be. You gave Yeji the space that she needed and tried to convince yourself that she would come to her senses after a while, realizing what she would throw away if she kept going. Selflessly, you let her crawl back into your bed late at night although you knew that she had been laying in the arms of another before. You tried to give her what she needed, in order to make her stay. Hoping that she would stop betraying you eventually.

But she didn’t.

You were already half asleep when the door to your dorm opened loudly and your drunken girlfriend stumbled into the room. You didn’t bother to sit up, pretending that you didn’t hear her entrance. But your girlfriend didn’t care about that. Lazily she leaned over you, starting to kiss your neck.

“Are you awake?”

She slurred into your ear and you huffed annoyed, trying to push her off.

But Yeji only giggled, continuing to leave openmouthed kisses all over you.

You were about to give in to her when the scent of an unfamiliar perfume suddenly reached your nose and you knew that she had done it again. Tears immediately stung to your eyes and your heart broke under the weight that had just become a little too heavy to endure. With a frustrated scream, you pushed Yeji off you, making her fall to the ground with a loud bang. She looked at you with wide eyes, now seeming a lot more sober than before. When she saw the tears streaming down your face, her expression changed from shock to concern though.

“What’s wrong baby? Did I hurt you?”

She asked, leaping to her feet to console you. But you flinched back like she was a stranger.

“You of all people have to ask this question.”

You spat out while a bitter laugh escaped your lips.

Yeji looked at you in confusion and the anger inside of you almost boiled over. How could she stand so innocently in front of you although she had been the one stabbing your back over and over again?

“What do you mean?”

She asked, trying to reach out for you another time, but you swatted away her hand immediately.

“Was it so bad to be my girlfriend?”

You responded instead of a real answer, all the built-up hurt lacing your voice. You didn’t want her to know how broken you were, angrily wiping away your own tears, but they kept streaming down your cheeks without cease.

“No, I love you. You know that, jagi.”

Yeji answered with a soft voice, triggering the time bomb that had been slumbering inside of you.

“Shut up!”

You yelled at her in desperation and Yeji winced at your outburst.

“How can you love me while sleeping with other people?”

Your voice cracked because you couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore and Yeji’s façade finally cracked. She avoided your gaze, guiltily looking on the floor.

“Since when do you know?”

She asked silently and you shook your head.

“You cheat on me and that’s what you have to say?”

Every word of Yeji managed to rip your chest open even further and you wished that you could just turn back time. Go back to the point where everything began to get out of control and start over.

“I’m sorry...”

Yeji mumbled hardly audible and you huffed.

“Are you? So are you going to tell me that it was just an accident now?”

You chimed in provocatively while crossing your arms defensively.

Yeji helplessly searched for your eyes, opening and closing her mouth at a loss for words.

“I..I...”

She stammered, unable to form any coherent sentences.

“You used to be a better liar.”

You rolled your eyes impatiently, being completely possessed by your anger and pain now.

“I don’t want to hurt you...”

Yeji breathed while tears started to well up in her eyes.

“It’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

You chuckled bitterly, knowing that your chest had already been ripped wide-open.

“I didn’t mean to though... We’ve just been together for so long. I felt like, I couldn’t breathe...”

Yeji tried to explain and although you thought that your heart had already been broken into a million pieces, you could feel it being shattered again.

“So it’s my fault then?”

You asked in disbelief and Yeji shook her head.

“No that’s not what I meant. I...”

She clearly couldn’t find the right words, but you didn’t have time for her excuses.

“You’re pathetic Yeji. I can’t believe, I fought for you despite everything you have done.”

You gritted though your teeth, making Yeji bury her face into her hands.

“I know. But please don’t give up on me Y/N.”

She sobbed, and you felt like walking up to her and shaking her shoulders.

Give up on her? She had been the one giving up on you. How dare her, putting the end of this relationship on you? Expecting you to fight again while she had never put any effort into it?

Disappointed you shook your head.

“I wish, I had never met you.”

Your voice was calm and cold like ice. You had wished to turn back time to the point where everything went wrong. But now you could suddenly see things clearly. Yeji was a monster, sucking all happiness and energy out of her victims. You would have been better off living without her.

“Don’t say that...”

Yeji whispered between sobs, but your tears had died down by now.

“Don’t you remember how we played as kids? All the good times we had throughout our time together?”

Her voice was pleading, but you had built walls around you to stop yourself from bleeding out.

“I do, Yeji. But I wish I didn’t. Because it makes it all the more painful that you just threw everything away so recklessly.”

Your heart hurt. For the first time in your life, you were all alone. You had just lost the constant that had always been by your side. You felt vulnerable and alone. But there was no turning back.

Slowly you dragged your feet to the door, hearing Yeji’s sobs echoing in the room behind you. But you kept going. When you left the room, you felt like on tracks while the world was flying past you. Nothing seemed to be real. You didn’t know where you should go. The person that had usually waited for you with open arms was no longer in your life.

Therefore, you wandered around campus aimlessly until you sat down at the foot of a tree, hugging your legs tightly in hope for comfort. But you knew that nothing could fill the hole that had just been ripped into your heart. In the next weeks, you would be like an animal bred in captivation, being released into the wild for the first time. How were you supposed to get around? It had always been Yeji and you against the world.

But how could you fight if a part of you was missing?

You were proven to be right. Anxiety was your constant companion the next weeks. Although Yeji had neglected your relationship the past months, you had always had the knowledge in the back of your mind that she would be there to catch you. But now you felt like freeclimbing the Mount Everest. And on top of it all, you had to spend most of your day running away from Yeji. She tried to catch you after your classes or in front of your dorm, causing you to sleep at a friend’s place most of the time. You couldn’t face her right now.

The only consolidation you could find during this time was the knowledge that Yeji didn’t seem to be doing any better. Dark rings underlined her eyes and she constantly seemed to just have stopped crying. Every time you saw her from afar, your heart pulled you towards her, but you couldn’t slack off. You weren’t allowed to let her in again. Healing was a lengthy process and you couldn’t risk a relapse, only for trying to save her again.

So you fought through the process. Your nights were filled with tears and sobs that rippled through your body so violently that you were sore the next morning. The days were all the same after a while. Dull and long. But you didn’t give up. A broken heart had to mend like a broken bone, you told yourself. The process was painful and consisted of several steps. At first, you had to let it heal off before starting to slowly get it back to its old shape.

Therefore, you started to focus on the things that you had once enjoyed in life. Gradually increasing your dose until you managed to spend complete days without thinking about Yeji once. And at the end of the term, you actually felt like an almost complete human again. Maybe it was true what people said. What didn’t kill you, actually made you stronger.

At first you truly felt like dying, but then you realized that, although it had felt like it, the world didn’t revolve around Yeji. It kept spinning, even after she was out of the picture. And you learnt even more. You learnt that you were strong enough to conquer it on your own. You didn’t need Yeji by your side.

All this time you had spent loving Yeji that you had forgotten to love yourself. But you deserved the same love that you had given her. Now that you didn’t have to spend all your time on mending the relationship with Yeji, you could actually spend the time on mending the relationship with yourself. Eventually making you strong enough to reflect the past.

You realized that this whole catastrophe wasn’t only to blame on Yeji. You had made mistakes, too, that manifested themselves in Yeji’s actions. It wasn’t an excuse, but it helped you to accept that your realtionship had been sailing into the wrong direction for a long time now.

Which didn’t mean, however, that you didn’t still love Yeji. Because you did. The heart might get shredded into a million pieces, but it will also put itself together again and the feelings it had held will not just vanish into thin air. But it was ok that you still loved her. You had walked a long road with each other. You had laughed, cried and made memories with each other. Just because the ending of a movie was sad, didn’t mean that the movie wasn’t worth watching.

And that realization helped you to forgive Yeji.

Therefore, you decided that you had to help her fix her heart as well. You were maybe not able to meet her eye to eye yet, but you needed to relief her, in order for you to be able to move on. Therefore, you wrote her a letter, capturing your feelings in every word and cleansing your body of all the things that were still tormenting it.

With the letter in your hand and the smell of a fresh start in the air, you made your way to Yeji’s dorm. You clenched the letter tightly in your hands, knowing that this was the ending of an era. Checking your letter one last time, you let your eyes wander across the paper.

Dear Yeji,

I want to start by saying that I’m sorry that I’m not saying all of this in person, but I’m still healing some wounds that need some treatment before I can say that I’m completely fine. But I don’t want you to worry. I’m getting there.

I know that your bad conscious is probably suffocating you right now, but I want to relieve you from it. I don’t blame you for the breakup. We both did our fair number of mistakes and no matter whether you had cheated on me or not, we probably wouldn’t have worked in the end. We have lied to ourselves for a long time now.

You were all that I knew.

So I held on to you, because letting go of you felt like letting go a part of myself. For the longest time, I was afraid of this step, but now I’ve realized that we have to cut things off sometimes to give new and better things the chance to grow in our life. We have to accept that it's a privilege but not a necessity that two people walk the same path their whole lives. All partings of ways are sad, but I gladly look back on the time that the universe has granted us together. You have helped to shape me into the person that I am today. Now, however, it’s time that we let each other go and allow the other to go new ways that we can’t go together.

After all, I needed to lose you to love me. I could never be the one that you needed. I was either too much or not enough, but never just right. I despised myself, thinking that something was wrong with me, but there wasn’t. We were simply two puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together, making us try to change ourselves and slowly suffocating each other. But if we let each other go now, we can find the place where we truly belong and I can try to learn myself like I loved you.

I hope that you can forgive yourself like I have forgiven you. Every ending is a new beginning and I know that there is a world full of adventures waiting for each of us.

Life has its own ways of going. And I’m sure that our paths will cross again, maybe in this life or the next.

I love you, Yeji. Now and forever.

Y/N

You smiled to yourself, before sliding the letter underneath Yeji’s door and sighting in relief. A huge weight was lifted off you and you felt like truly starting over now.

There was a world waiting for you out there and you were ready to claim it.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

(you taught me) the courage of stars pt. 3

Summary: “I know what it is like, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan tells her. “I know what it is to leave the Jedi with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you are doing the right thing.”

 Or: Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.)

Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse (childhood, emotional, physical, mental), mind control.

Pt. 1, Pt.2, AO3

Nautical Dusk

Coruscant’s skies open above Anakin’s head. The deluge pounds down, weighing on his shoulders even further, trickling into his collar, seeping into his bones. He is alone. He is alone. His thoughts swirl, his own storm all locked up inside his skull, a fragile pantomime of the downpour around him. The landing pad is soaked, reflecting the hazy neon lights from the buildings around the Temple as Anakin waits.

If you’d just tried harder--if you’d just protected her better--if you’d just run after her faster--

His head aches as Anakin shakes it savagely, ignoring the strain he puts on his tendons. Ahsoka is gone. She’d bolted before he could--he could--

What could you have done, my boy? Palpatine had asked gently when Anakin called him hours ago. The rain, which had flickered on and off throughout the day, provided a cacophonous background symphony to the call. Palpatine’s face was deeply troubled, even pitying. Anakin doesn’t know why he even tried talking to the Chancellor--only that Ahsoka was chased away from him by authorities and his mentor may have been able to help. It is not your fault that this has happened; it was your student’s decision to flee. You can’t expect to help her if she is gone.

Anakin’s fingertips are numb. His spine is brittle, threatening to snap under the weight of what has happened. There are no other Jedi in the hangar; they’d cleared out when he’d entered, sensing the destructive spiral of the Force around him. It wraps around the Knight darkly, seething--he can’t seem to stop it. His throat is so tight he chokes on air. It feels as if the world is crumbling around him without Ahsoka’s foundational presence to shore him up.

Usually, when someone runs it is because they are guilty. Not that I have anything but the utmost faith in anyone you have trained, of course. I’m sure not everything is as it seems in your Padawan’s trial but unfortunately this is in the Jedi’s jurisdiction, not my own. If only I had a little more pull within your Order, I may have been able to help…

Why does he always want more pull within the Temple? A voice in Anakin’s head had whispered then, but Anakin had shoved it away with a vicious snarl. That call was the only time he can remember hanging up on the Chancellor without so much as a goodbye. Palpatine could not help him, could not help Ahsoka. It was useless to try.

The sound of a speeder’s engine cutting off shakes him from his thoughts, and Anakin jerks to attention, hardly realizing how far his mind wandered. It has been hours since Obi-Wan slipped out, surrounded by Coruscanti Guards; his master’s hood is up, plastered to his head with rainwater. He moves slowly, gingerly, as if sore. He is alone, a singular miserable figure against a disgustingly empty horizon. Anakin’s chest constricts but he rushes forward anyway, crowding into his master’s space.

Over the rush of rain and sleet, his voice is weak. “Did you find her? Did you find Ahsoka?”

Obi-Wan swings himself the rest of the way down from the speeder. His hood hides his face in shadow and he shakes his head, motioning towards the shelter of the hangar. “Let me inside before we discuss anything, Anakin. This rain won’t do anything for our health.”

The hallway is too bright, light digging into Anakin’s eye sockets as they walk. His head renews its throbbing.

I may have been able to help...

Temple guards look up curiously as they pass, but from the corner of his eye Anakin catches Obi-Wan shaking his head deliberately. They are allowed back to Obi-Wan’s quarters unmolested.

The words explode from his mouth mere seconds after the door closes. “Where was she? Why didn’t you bring her back--”

“Ahsoka is gone.” Obi-Wan strips his robe off, and, in a move Anakin has never seen from him before, checks the lock on the door. When he turns to face his former padawan, Anakin really sees him for the first time tonight: Obi-Wan’s face is torn and worried, crow’s feet at his temples and wrinkles digging deeply into his forehead. His mouth is set in a thin, firm frown, and his hair hangs lank with dampness over his brow, which furrows tightly. “I tried to catch up--there were so many guards that I had to--”

Anakin feels his fists clench almost independent of his will. “You lost her! You were too busy following the rules and regulations that you lost Ahsoka!”

“No, I--”

“Why would you even bring so many guards with you in the first place? You’re treating Ahsoka like she’s some common criminal!” Anakin whirls, pacing the living room’s length. He bumps into a small coffee table as he whirls back. Quite unknowing of what he’s doing, temper piqued and red descending over his vision, Anakin lifts a boot and shoves at the table’s edge. It topples with a tremendous clatter; a forgotten mug shatters against the back wall, splattering cold tea across the floor as the table flips, crashing onto its side. The only other ornament on the table, a smooth rock which hums in the Force, scatters away in the wake of Anakin’s anger, and, like a candle, his temper blows out quite suddenly.

(He used to play there when he was young, taking apart a mouse droid only to rebuild it perfectly, Obi-Wan’s indulgent smile visible over the edge of a datapad.)

“ Anakin .”

Rather than apologize, Anakin drops his face into his hands, a sob hitching at his chest. “She ran. Why would she run from me? Doesn’t she trust me to help her?”

“She has lost faith in the Order,” Obi-Wan replies. His face is more lined than Anakin ever remembered it being. He won’t meet Anakin’s eyes: it makes the heat of rage flame in Anakin’s chest where it had been burning down to embers.

“And why shouldn’t she? The Jedi have done nothing for her! They have failed her!”

“ We have failed her.”

Anakin pulls up short. Nearly chewing the words, he spits, “What? What are you talking about?” He hadn’t--he’d wanted to help her, take her back to the Temple with him and make the Council listen --

“ We have failed her.” Obi-Wan repeats; his eyes flash to meet Anakin’s, steel in his voice. But his stance is open as he moves further into the room, standing broad-shouldered, unshakable, across from Anakin. He stands as if the sky hasn’t fallen down around their ears. “Have you forgotten that you are a part of the Jedi too, Anakin?”

Anger roils in his gut, makes him snarl. The Force rises around them, threatening, until Obi-Wan’s Force signature (cool and calm, steady as rock and soft a velvet) pushes it back, soothes the storm. It almost allows Anakin a moment of calm, but his nerves jangle in the back of his mind, refusing to let him rest.

“We are not infallible, Anakin. We make mistakes--sometimes big ones. Sometimes catastrophic in measure.”

“Ahsoka isn’t a mistake.”

“No. She is not. But what has happened to her is, and we will not be able to help her fix it if we are too busy fighting amongst ourselves. We’ll only be able to clear Ahsoka’s name if we work together.”

What could you have done, my boy?

“What can we do without her here to give her side of the story? Not even the Chancellor can help us, it’s in the Jedi’s jurisdiction and they’ve already pronounced her guilty!” Helplessness floods him, insidious. Obi-Wan’s voice sounds very far away.

“The Chancellor--?” Obi-Wan starts, but cuts himself off quickly. “Never mind that. Listen to me carefully. The trial and Ahsoka’s fleeing her sentencing is not the end of this, Anakin. The Council will listen to reason if we can provide evidence of Ahsoka’s innocence; they’ll even accept her back if she wishes to return. We can help her, but we have to work fast. She’s out there alone --”

Anakin scoffs, his hollow chest making the sound ring out around them loudly. He turns away, but before the door slides close behind him, snaps out a parting blow. “What would you know about being alone?”

He chooses to leave rather than give Obi-Wan the chance to answer.

Someone is waiting for Ahsoka before her ship lands.

The Force pulls at the young trogruta’s senses, leading her through the merry throngs, families reuniting and friends embracing. Her chest aches, skin practically crawling with need, with grief. Nonetheless, the Force calls to her, and Ahsoka answers.

Her senses pull her towards a person who waits beside the west exit, hood up and hands clasped before them patiently. The Force ripples about them, curling fondly, light with song. It’s almost enough to make her relax--until Ahsoka catches herself and tenses her shoulders again. She’d thought she was safe before, that people who raised her were actually there to protect her. She was wrong.

She pulls up short before the person and does not speak. A trick Skyguy taught her: desperate people will usually spill their souls to you if you are quiet enough.

The hooded person before her tipped their head towards her after a moment in which they both fall stalk still. The crowd unknowingly gives them a wide berth, responding to the inherent prompting of the Force.

“Hello there.” they greet Ahsoka gently. She still finches at the familiar phrase. “What brings you to our humble home?”

They are testing her. Ahsoka’s spine wants to snap straight, but she refuses to yield, to show the emotions that roil in her gut. She has to be calm. She has to be collected. Master Obi-Wan’s blank sabbac face flashes through her mind and Ahsoka’s gorge rises in her throat. She swallows it down, grits her teeth until she thinks her voice won’t shake too much. “A friend.” The words do not feel as vile as she’d have thought they would, and with a startling drop of her stomach, Ahsoka realizes she isn’t lying.

The person hums; they’ve gradually turned their back on the crowd--only Ahsoka looks directly at them now. “We as a people are not known for having many friends. Certainly not many of those who would send newcomers to seek us out.”

This time, Ahsoka keeps quiet. The Jedi are not the only Force-users in the galaxy. With how strangely this person is acting, unknown to her as they are, she’s not willing to give out any names. Her lineage is particularly good at resisting Force suggestion but Ahsoka is self-aware enough to know her shields are not at their best in this moment.

The stranger’s head tilts and Ahsoka feels eyes scanning her from head to toe. She nearly snarls. “Kenobi sent you then.”

Old protective suspicion makes Ahsoka’s hackles rise. She doesn’t mean to speak again but before she knows it, words fall from a sharp tongue. “How do you know him?”

“He is a very old friend.” They lift their hood from their face; the woman underneath is older than Ahsoka expected, with smile lines dug in deep into her skin. “My name is Wila,” she says. “Welcome to Gala.”

[mal-warebytes]

A Day Out: Obey Me! Levi x Reader

*Knock* *knock* *knock*

You open the door to your room, 'no one's there', look around and lying on the floor is a brown box. "Yes! It's here!" You pick and the box and quickly shut your door. Walking over to plop down on your bed you start to open your package and pull off the tape holding it together. Sitting down you empty the box on the bed and start going through the contents of it. "Levi is going to be so surprised!" There's accessories, shoes, outfits and the main thing you were looking for... 2 tickets to the TSL convention in Tokyo. "Eeee! Now I just need to go find Asmo." You throw everything back in the box and head out to Asmo's room.

Once to his room you can barely hold your excitement and just waltz right in without knocking. "Asmooo dearrrr!" You hear a faint, "in the bathroom darling! You're lucky it's you and not one of my idiot brothers. Otherwise you'd be getting a stern talking to about just barging in like you own the damn place. Actually... I might just spank you so you learn a lesson." You walk around the corner, his in the tub. Nothing you haven't seen before so you just continue the conversation.

"Yea ok, maybe later you lusty little demon you, " you joke. "However, right now I need your beauty expertise." You toss a towel in his direction, he catches it before it hits the water.

"Oh, well in that case," he stands up and you turn away. "Oh darling, I get that you have this 'thing' for Levi but you could at least humor me every now and again. Don't be so shy!" He drapes the towel around his waist, "alright, alright head into the bedroom and I'll be right there." You walk on over to his bed and dump the box and lay everything out across the sheets. Asmo walks in dressed in a robe and sits down on the bed eyeing all the accessories and whatnot. "What is all this? Oh those are cute! Is that... NO! You didn't! Sweetie, is that? Is that... oh it is... You bought cosplay outfits! What fun!" Asmo picks up one of the outfits and holds it up to take a better look. "Honestly darling, they're... well ugly," he drops it on the bed. "You could find something... sexier?"

"They're The Lord of Shadow and Henry's outfits from TSL, and actually that's why I came to you," you pick up The Lord of Shadow's out fit and hold it up. "I need your help to alter this a bit for me."

He looks at you quizzically, "Oh? Well Levi is way better at alterations than I am, why don't you just ask him? I'm sure he'd love to..."

You cut him off, "I need you're help to make this one... um, slightly on the more sluttier side. Not like tooooo slutty but just enough to make a certain TSL fan.. yeaaaa. Let's just say I'm hoping this is going to be something Levi will never forget." You blush and hold the outfit up to your body. "I need you to make me completely irresistible, to even the shyest otaku."

Asmo, "Sweetie, I could dress you in sweats and have any man... err, demon for that matter, howling at you like a wolf to the moon. Now, strip down and let's get to work!"

A few hours later and Asmo is finally done. "Tada! Mmhm honey, I could eat you alive! I'll leave that to, well you know," he winks and pushes you in front of the mirror.

"It's perfect Asmo! Thank you!" you turn around and kiss him on the cheek, "do you have a jacket I could borrow? I don't want Levi to see me in this yet."

"I've got the perfect one!" He hands you the jacket and you throw it on, toss the rest of stuff in box and wave at him as you head out the door.

You walk down the hall heading towards Levi's room. 'Oh I better message Diavolo so Barbatos can meet us at the portal.' You love the fact that all you had to do was convince the future demon king that this trip was educational to learn about human pop-culture. He was so interested in what you had to tell him that he insisted you go. 'We'll be there in about 30 minutes. Thank you again!' Send. Now at the door of Levi's room, you knock.

*knock* *knock* "Levi! I got a present for you!" You hear a rustling of what sounds like Levi tripping over boxes, he more than likely purchased recently, as he scrambles to the door.

He throws the door open and eyes you suspiciously. "Why are you wearing a jacket? Are you going somewhere? Wait!? You said you had something for me?"

"Actually we're going somewhere..." you hand him the box. "You can't say no, Diavolo is having Barbatos meet us. Put this on and meet me downstairs in 15 minutes."

"Wait! What!? Diavolo? Barbatos? You're not making sense! Why are we meeting..." you push him in his room and shut the door.

"15 minutes!" You yell through the door, "don't be late or else!"

Levi gulps and looks in the box. He starts to pick through the items and starts to realize, "wait a second... is this... it is! It's Henry's outfit! What is this?" He sees a note at the bottom of the box. 'Stop drooling, put on the clothes and let's go!' Slightly embarrassed he complies and semi-excitedly changes into the Henry cosplay. Not wanting anyone to see him, Levi grabs a jacket, throws it on, peeks out the door and takes off down the hall. You hear him coming around the corner.

"Great! You're here," you look him over, "you're wearing the outfit right?"

Levi, "Yeeess, of course... I didn't really want to find out what 'or else' was... so? Where are we going?" He looked around nervously, he wanted to make sure none of his brothers saw him leave his room.

You grab his hand and head toward the portal, "you'll see!" Barbatos was there waiting to escort you both through. He bowed to the two of you and simply stretched out his hand toward the portal. "Whenever you're ready."

Levi gulped, "where are we going!?" He looked at you with a uneasy smile.

You raise the tickets up next to your cheek, "probably the most nerve-wracking, scariest, make you want to crawl into a hole and die, 'wish I never left my room' place in the three realms, ooorrrrr an otaku heaven. Guess you'll see." You shrug your shoulders, grab his hand and jump into the portal. Levi screaming in your ear, "Nooooooooo I change my miiiind..." as you're both dragged up to the human world.

As the portal light fades, Levi is still squeezing your hand and his eyes shut tight. "What's that sound? It's so noisy, where are we?" He slowly opens his eyes, "Is that? Are we!? Are we in Akihabara? Tokyo? ARE WE IN TOKYO!?" His eyes dart everywhere, "We are! We are, we are, we are! Wait!? What were those tickets you held up?"

You wave the tickets in the air, "you mean theeeese? Oh nothing special." You feather them in front of his face, "just tickets to the TSL convention."

"Tickets.. to.. TSL.. conven...," he looks like he's going to faint. You stand slightly behind him as he starts to fall backwards and push him back up.

"Come on! I figured you'd feel right at home if we popped up in Akihabara. Let's hit up Mandarake to see if they have any figures your missing, one of the maid cafés for lunch and then head off to the convention!" You grab his hand and head off into the crowd. You spend a couple hours shopping and finally finish up at the café. Levi has at least twice as many bags as you do by this point. "Slow down with the shopping Levi, otherwise you won't have any money left to spend at the convention." You look up at one of the many flashing signs and find the time. "We better head off, the doors have already been open for a little over an hour now." You both finally make it to the convention, hand the tickets to the door guy and enter into a whole world of TSL.

Levi has already stripped off his jacket and tossed it into one of the bags. "Thank you so much for this! I really feel like Henry!" a huge smile spreads across his face as he looks toward you. "Aren't you going to take off your jacket? It's starting to get pretty warm in here."

"Oh, yea... um, could you hold the bags for a minute then while I take it off?" you hand him the bags, "oh, and could you turn around?" He gives you an odd look but shrugs it off and turns around. You take off the jacket and tosses it at the back of his head.

"Hey!" he catches the jacket and turns around to face you. His jaw practically falls off. His mouth agape he manages to stutter out, "Lord offfff Shadows," he gets down on one knee, "please allow me to devote myself to your service." His hand is quivering as it reaches up to take yours and gently places a kiss upon it.

"I'm guessing I look ok?," you shyly giggle as he stands up. "Asmo didn't alter this too much, did he?"

"Noooo, you look aamazinnng!" he stands up, you notice something starting to bulge in his pants. "Um... maybe, maybe you should put the jacket back on." He looks around and casually put his hand in his pocket to try to cover what's happening. He starts to notice others staring at you as they walk by. His eyes scan the main entrance, he spots a janitors closet, "actually come with me." He grabs your hand and takes off towards the closet. Checking to make sure no one is watching he opens the door and drags you inside. "Ok we should be safe in here."

"Levi.. why are we in a closet? We're going to miss all the booths and activi..." his mouth is upon yours before you can even finish the sentence. "Mmhmm," your hands drop down to your side and you feel his fingers interlocking with yours. His tongue slowly enters and massages yours, sending shivers down your spine. You feel his hands start to glide up your arms making their way up to your face, cupping it oh so gently as the kiss deepens. You can feel his bulge grow, pressing against you as he slowly backs you up against the wall.

His mouth parts away from yours, "I think we're going to have to go to the next convention." He backs away slightly, "we need to go back home." He runs his hands through your hair, "I'm not letting anyone else see you in that outfit." He buries his face in your neck and starts to leave a trail of soft kisses up to your jaw. "This conversation will continue in my room." He places your jacket back on you and drags you out of the convention center back to the portal.

"Farewell Tokyo, until next time."

[waywardmoeyy]

While No One’s Home

Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1,125

Warnings: All kinds of smut (fingering, oral sex [female receiving], vaginal sex, hints of edging).

A/N: It’s been a minute since I’ve written any smut, so here’s this.

Wayward Moeyy’s Master List

Castiel’s firm chest pinned you against the plush sheets of your bed. His smooth, warm skin skimmed against yours as his hand slithered beneath him, slowly making its way down your torso.

God, you loved it when no one was home. You could do whatever you wanted without the brothers or the young Nephilim interrupting you with a case, or just to annoy you. You just has each other, and the whole bunker at your disposal.

Cas raised himself up on one arm, guiding the other to your aching core. One long, thick finger slid between your slick folds, quickly finding your begging entrance. You spread your legs as wide as you could, pleading for him to enter.

“Cas,” you whimpered rolling your hips. Your lips quivered as his name barely escaped your throat. He had been teasing you for over an hour, offering only the lightest of touches before turning his attention to another part of your body. You prayed that the teasing was finally over, and he would just fuck you already.

Cas slipped two fingers into your dripping hole, forcing a sharp breath from you. His thumb reached for your clit, pressing ever so lightly as he slowly swirled his rough skin against you. Oh, fucking finally.

“Cas,” you groaned as your back arched against the mattress. He knelt beside your right thigh, bending his long, toned body over you while he studied your every move. His cock bounced against his lower abdomen, flushed while beads of pre-cum leaked from the tip. He was beautiful, which made all of the teasing that much more painful.

“Faster, please,” you pleaded. But, Castiel just kept his pace, a smirk curling over his lips as you began to squirm.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re quite ready yet,” Cas baited. You let out a frustrated huff and rolled your hips. Cas slowed down a little, then pulled his hand from you completely.

“Cas,” you whined again. But, your heart quickly began to race as he crawled between your legs and lowered himself down, holding his legs just inches from your dripping pussy. He winked up at you, then leaned down and ran his tongue slowly up your folds. Your head fell back as a loud moan shot from your throat.

Cas chuckled against your heated skin the moment his tongue met your clit. The tip of his tongue swirled around your clit while his tongue wrapped around the sensitive flesh. You could feel him rolling his hips against the sleek sheets, in desperate need of friction. You peered up and moaned at the sight of him, wishing it was you he was thrusting against. You reached down and grabbed a handful of luscious hair while you rocked your hips against his face. He groaned, grasping your hips and pinning them down to the mattress.

“Cas, oh my—” Your voice cracked as the pressure built up in your core. “Cas, d-don’t stop. Please, I’m so close,” you puffed. One hand gripped the sheets, while the other gripped at Cas’ hair, your nails lightly biting into his scalp.

“I’m gonna—" before you could finish your sentence, your orgasm surged over you. Your back arched and your eyes fluttered shut while your clit throbbed against Cas’ lips. Cas’ hands gripped around your thighs in an effort to keep your wiggling form in place as he guided you through your high.

Then, Cas gripped your hips and forced you onto your stomach. He leaned over you, his chest following the curve of your spine as he pinned your shoulders down onto the mattress. Then, he leaned back up, pulling your hips up with him so your ass was pointed straight up towards him.

A large, rough hand skated over the smooth curve of your ass. “Stay just like this,” he commanded with a growl. “So beautiful.” You whimpered with excitement as he spread your legs wider. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as his hands urged the inner parts of your thighs apart.

Once you were in the perfect position, Cas gripped his cock. He pumped it a few times, coaxing a low groan from this throat, then lined it up with your entrance.

“Cas,” you breathed, “fuck me please.” Cas positioned both hands on the sides of your ass, then slowly slipped the tip of his cock into your slick cunt. He moved ever so slightly, creating only the tiniest bit of friction.

“You’re so wet,” Cas praised in a teasing tone. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. And he loved every second of it.

“Castiel, I need you to fuck me already,” you growled below him. You heard him chuckle, then grip your ass a little tighter.

Cas’ name rushed from your lips as he pumped his swollen cock deep inside you. He rolled his hips as he tugged your hips towards him, meeting his every move. With each thrust, he filled you completely, stretching your walls with a sweet burn.

Cas never spoke much during sex, but the sounds that left this throat were downright sinful. Grunts and guttural groans filled the air, mingling with the occasional hiss of your name. His eyes fluttered and his nose scrunched a little as he picked up his pace, signaling the he was close to his peak.

“Oh, Cas, fuck,” you muttered against the sheets. He quickened his pace, as if the mere sound of your voice was pushing him closer to the edge.

His movements faltered and his body tensed as he gripped you even tighter. A low groan followed by your name filled the air as he spilled deep into you. You watched from the corner of your gaze as he slammed into you, sweat dripping down his milky torso and his hands gripped you for dear life.

Once he slowed, his lungs practially gasped for air. One of the hands that had gripped your hips smoothed up your spine, then back down before both hands released you. Cas leaned back onto his heals, then quickly collapsed beside you. You followed suit, turning towards him.

“I thought angels didn’t sweat,” you teased, tracing your finger down the center of his chest. He chuckled, raising a hand to gently cup your cheek.

“I think there are certain circumstances where that may not be entirely true,” he played. His glacier blue gaze caught yours, making you smile.

“Sam, Dean, and Jack will be back the day after tomorrow,” you informed him with a hint of disappointment. Cas smiled.

He lifted himself up, capturing your lips. You giggled as he hovered over you and wrapped his arm around your waist. “Then that gives me two whole days to love you without interruption.”

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