#many cases of this but these two scenes came to mind most somehow

[hacked-wtsdz]

Peaky Blinders, 01.01;

Hippolytos, Euripides. Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides in Anne Carson’s translation;

Peaky Blinders, 03.04.

[rebelliousstories]

Home for the Holidays

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Alcohol

Word Count: 2,190

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: If there is anyone that can convince him to stay home, it was her. And if there was any time for him to stay home, it was now.

Consider Donating: Here

“Logan!”

“Logan! Come back!”

“Logan! Wolverine!”

Too many times had he heard the call of his name by those he loved. Too often did he refuse to turn back to go to them out of his own stupid pride. And, because of this, far too much did he miss out on fun events and memories. That had apparently went out the window the second that he decided to date his girlfriend.

Do not be mistaken, Logan still manages to find ways to slip away from the school in order to not join in on festivities. But it had been greatly reduced since she came along. A mutant who has the ability to decay anything with a single touch, that somehow fell in love with the man who could not seem to die.

Logan was picking up the keys to his motorcycle when she came to fetch him.

“Log, hey honey.” Her wide beam smile threatened to infect his own face, but he let a small tilt of his lips escape.

“What do you want, darling?” He grumbled, plopping his heavy body on the machine.

“Will you stay home with me tomorrow?”

Her eyes begged him, oh so cutely. But he knew what that was code for. It was what she did each and every time.

“Nope.”

“But, Logan.” He began to start the bike up, which drowned her out for a second.

“No. You’re not dragging me to another party.” The rumble of the beast underneath him was a calming feeling and sound. It was part of the reason he went on so many drives on it. Silence was so hard to achieve when you could hear things most people could never.

“Log, wait just a second,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him right where she wanted him. “Please, it’s Thanksgiving. Just stay home with us please. With me?” Her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I don’t do holidays. Besides, I’m Canadian.”

As he drove away, Logan could still see her crestfallen face in his side mirrors. Once he was out on the open road, he tried to put her upset expression out of his mind, but found he could not. This happened every major holiday; even the minor ones too. It was not that he did not like spending time with her, quite the opposite really. But it was that he did not care for the major celebrations.

Too many smells and sounds. People pretending that they wanted to be around him when in actuality they could not care less. As they got closer to the holiday season, people spent money that they did not have to impress people who would still think those same nasty things about them. The falseness of the months of November and December repulsed him.

But the long he went, the more he thought about her. This was their second Thanksgiving together, and he had done the exact same thing last year. Driven off on his bike, camped at a dingy motel for the next two days with a constant supply of alcohol, before returning on Friday. Would it have truly been so bad for him to stay at home with her, and suffered through the festivities?

A ding broke his gaze from the road. He was running low on fuel. Sighing, Logan kept his eyes out for a gas station along the deserted road he was on. There was nothing he hated more than to run out of gas before he got to a place to fill up. Thankfully, that was not the case.

An old station that had probably not been repaired since the mid 70’s came upon his journey. There was a lone truck at the pumps when he pulled in, and another around back meaning that there was at least two people inside the building. For some reason, Logan felt the need to go inside and grab a snack. As soon as he stepped through the door, a warm scene greeted him.

There stood a dad with his children who were laughing while their mom checked out with their snacks. All of them were so happy with each other. Even the woman at the register was smiling because of them. Logan could hear their conversation, and it was all so hopeful. The children were talking excitedly about what they wanted to eat for the holiday, and which cousins they would see. Their father was happily listening to them, and prompting them to talk more about what they wanted to do.

It was so beautiful to watch that he was a little sad that they had left afterwards. He set his pack of beer and chips on the counter, but let his mind wander. Logan had long since given up on the concept of having a family himself, even though he would like one. With his mutation, it was probably not possible. He very well could outlive his own children, or whoever was their mother, and that was not a fun thought for him to have.

Getting the case of beer and food onto the bike took a bit of maneuvering, but the mutant made it happen. Instead of going back to the school though, he just continued down the road now that he was refueled in more ways than one. What was once a peaceful drive meant to clear his head and heart, had quickly turned to quiet for him.

All he could think of now was being home with his girlfriend for Thanksgiving. During the school year, he loved watching her interact with the younger children. It always stirred something in him that he kept dampening down whenever it sprung up. This was part of the reason that he was so reluctant to spend holidays with her.

She always made sure that the kids who had no family to go home to were taken care of; unfortunately, that was a majority of the students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. But she never made them miss out on fun festive activities. He knew that leading up to the big day, her lesson plans always took some time to make decorations. The younger kids had made hand turkeys, while the older ones used the changing leaves outside to make their own collages or scrapbooks.

That was just how she was. Even though her mutation caused destruction, her spirit repaired others. There was nothing that she was not willing to do if it meant making others happy. It often caused some insecurity to sprout in Logan’s chest. Because, how was someone so kind, so caring, so lovely, so precious, dating someone like him? A mutant who tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle, and kept killing bottles to find it. A mutant who got into fights whenever he felt like it, and kept true to his lone wolf personality.

The motel that evening did not provide the comfort he was looking for. Usually, there was a little ease associated with it. A nice, calm, stable environment for him away from the hustle and bustle that he knew was overtaking the school at this very moment. As Logan cracked open his first beer, he thought about how shut down she was when he drove away. His pride would not allow him to admit that he was wrong, and frankly, up until this point, he had not believe that he was wrong. And yet, there was just a little something in his chest that tugged on his heart as he went to sleep that made him believe other wise.

After Logan had left, she went back into the mansion with a frown etched deep onto her face. But there was little time to dwell on the fact that her boyfriend was leaving once again. There was so much to do for the big meal tomorrow. Cooking for an entire school was an arduous task, but one that her, and the other adults, took on gratefully.

Her mind was kept free from thoughts that would damper her mood all through the rest of the day. So many people had joined together that year to make their feast. Different dietary restrictions, different cultures, and different preferences had made for one interesting prepping day. She did make sure to include a couple turkeys on the table that had to be prepped, but there was just so much variety.

However, sleep continued to evade her that night. The blame was partially on the lack of her space heater lover not providing adequate warmth for her. During the colder months, Logan’s ability to run warm was her favorite thing about him. He was just a big, hairy, perfectly warmed teddy bear to latch onto in the middle of the night.

But most of the blame was on the fact that she would, once again, be alone on the holidays. Sure, she had her friends and the kids, but that was not the same as having her Wolverine. He would be doing whatever he was doing for the next two days, before coming back like nothing had happened.

And that was how she found herself in the kitchen, stress baking, at four o’clock in the morning. Her ever so popular iced lemon cookies were on the menu. It was a process that she had done so much, that she did not need to think about what she was doing. She knew that these would be going like hot cakes tomorrow, or rather today if someone wanted to be technical. So she did not worry about making too many; there would never be enough.

Five am came far faster than she ever thought. There were a few of the older people that had begun trickling in, and here she was. Still baking. Charles got his morning tea before retreating into his office. Scott made his and Jean’s cup of coffee and left to go to their room. Storm, however, stayed. She made both of them a cup of coffee before starting on food preparations while the other woman finished off her baking.

They snacked on cookies and remnants of food for breakfast while the rest of the school woke up. Remy and Rogue both came down to share a plate of eggs and toast in the dinning room, aiming just to stay out of the way for now. However, as soon as they were done, they were put to work warming up side dishes that had been prepped the day before to save on time.

In a few hours, the adults had the perfect Thanksgiving meal on the tables. Everything was served buffet style, with additional chairs and tables inhabiting the dinning and game room. Every one fixed themselves a plate with a little bit of everything they wanted, and sat down to enjoy a nice time together. But she just watched from her little corner.

Sure, she had a plate of food, but it did not seem too appealing right now. Right now, she was just enjoying watching everyone enjoy themselves. She saw Scott and Jean laughing, feeding each other bites from their plates, and chatting with the youngsters they had come to take in as their own. It made her a bit bitter on what was supposed to be a day of thanks. Pushing around a bit of Rogue’s green bean casserole, she did not know what she was expecting when someone cleared their throat behind her.

Logan was the last person she expected to see, though.

He stood a bit awkwardly. His hands were shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans, right next to the big belt buckle he loved wearing. The flannel covering his arms and chest was the one that she had gotten him as a belated Christmas present last year. Not because she forgot to give it to him on Christmas, but rather because he was not there for it. Logan cleared his throat again before trying to speak.

“Mind helping me fix a plate, darling?” Her shock was recovered quickly as she stood, leaving behind her own plate. She talked him through each dish, and helped load up his plate with things that he may not have understood, but would definitely enjoy eating. There was a little something that was nagging her as they went to go sit down again.

“What are you doing back so soon?”

For once, Logan did not have what seemed like an appropriate response. He never bothered with giving a good answer before because he never cared who took offense to what he was saying. Now, he was terrified to upset his girlfriend even more.

“I just figured I would give this thing a try.” Logan tried to keep his eyes to his food, and shoveled a bit in before he could speak more.

“Well,” she began putting together her own first bite, “thank you for humoring me.”

“Don’t get used to it, darling.”

Anyone who did not know Logan would assume that he was being serious. But she knew better. That twinkle in his eye let her know that she just might turn his cynical heart around yet.

[herrscherofmagic]

long and spoiler-y and messy summary of my many thoughts on HI3rd Part 2 Chapter 7:

first of all, what the fuck, Helia??

second, the snowy battlefield scenes were probably the single most fundamentally "Honkai" story scenes that Mihoyo's written in like... the last 4 years or so.

Like, I don't think Mihoyo's ever gone that far before to show us just how deadly Honkai (or in this case, the "Calamity") truly is to the average soldier, and even the "supersoliders".

In most of Honkai's story, we follow incredibly powerful and skilled characters. Even in her weak moments like in Arc City, Kiana still had extraordinary endurance and stamina. And we rarely actually ever fought alongside ordinary valkyries. The only two instances I can think of would be Arc City and Coral City, and both of those were from the perspective of said super-powerful valkyries fighting alongside the weaker troops.

But here, on that snowy battlefield... it was something completely different.

The battlefield ambience with the audible & visible cannonfire in the background, the burning buildings, the corpses of civilians and soldiers alike amidst swarms of monsters... visually, it still has the style of an anime gacha game, but I could close my eyes and just listen to the sound and picture the scene in my mind so, so viscerally.

It gives me all the same feeling that I felt all those years ago when I played games like Halo: Reach, which had a similar "squad of elite soldiers fighting swarms of monsters on a dying world" theme but with a gritty & realistic visual style and writing.

This might've been one of the most well-constructed visual sequences in almost all of HI3rd's gameplay stages. Obviously cinematics would look prettier, but when talking about *actual gameplay* where you control a character, I don't think anything else comes even close to being so immersive of the scene that the story is telling to us.

For once, it really felt like this was a WAR. not a superhero comic book, but a story of ordinary humans struggling violently in vain against a greater power, incomprehensible to all.

third, to reiterate and also elaborate: what the FUCK, Helia!?

That was an absolute roller-coaster of emotions, especially because I did the first 2/3rds of Chapter 6 last night and saved the rest of Chapter 6 & then all of Chapter 7 for tonight. So I had only a brief break to do some other stuff at the end of Chapter 6 and dove right into Chapter 7, and had to process all of those feelings and scenes one right after the other. no giant several-week break to process everything T_T

Obviously Coralie's death was spoiled for me like a month and a half or two months ago, because CN server is far ahead and because it happened at the end of last version. But I still didn't expect it to play out THAT way, which came as a shock to me because I somehow didn't come across that specific part of the spoilers.

And the entire character arc Helia went through (well it seems like she's still got a ways to go) was just... holy shit. good lord. Mihoyo, what have you done!?? (/pos)

I don't really know if I'd call Helia a hero or a villain, or if it's even possible to cram her into that dichotomy at this point. I guess antihero might be the best way to describe her, but even that doesn't quite feel right.

It's clear to me that even if she somehow ends up "back to normal" in the future, she's obviously never gonna be quite the same. But I'm incredibly intrigued as to just how Wrong™ she'll end up being at the end of all this.

Like, even after all that she went through she reaffirmed her duty as a Valkyrie and her desire to avoid innocents, but she also still has that growing lack of empathy and cold attitude. She's no longer quite so mindlessly fanatical, but I find it hard to imagine she'll ever become so upright and kind as she once was.

So I honestly can't say I see her becoming a villain that would ultimately threaten the rest of the cast and bring harm to Luoxing or Earth... but I doubt she'll ever truly fit in with the ideal of a hero that she's always longed to be.

I'm sure there's still SOME potential development that will bring her into a "heroic" state, especially she ultimately hasn't ever committed such a grave sin as murdering an innocent person (unlike a certain Definitely Not Helia™ we've met). I'm sure she COULD still end up idolizing Durandal and striving to be a great Valkyrie.

But it also feels like there's a different path for her that none of the rest of the cast would dare to take, a path that doesn't bring her into being an antagonist but which still deviates far from the model Valkyrie we've been shown for all these years (from Durandal to Rita to Kiana and so on).

I honestly really like this sort of "cold but still fundamentally just" version of Helia. She's flawed but still willing to do what is right, even if she is doing it for entirely selfish reasons now.

In a way she now reminds me a bit of Lantern, but in an almost more cruel way. Lantern was always a dangerous person when on the hunt, but outside of her narrowly-focused combat mindspace she was always fairly calm and even gentle at times. Helia feels like a more chaotic and reckless form of Lantern now, and I really like seeing that because it's such an incredible contrast to all the other Valkyrie stuff we've seen before.

Point being, I absolutely ADORE this story arc and I'm blown away by just how far Mihoyo diverged from the stereotypical image of what a Valkyrie is supposed to be. We've had so many characters in the Hoyoverse (whether Honkai or Genshin or ZZZ) that were antagonistic or villainous at times, but I don't think we ever had any that were as unfeeling as Helia was in this story arc.

It's hard to find the exact words for it, but as someone that's played through nearly all of the story for Genshin, and Star Rail, AND ZZZ, not a single character felt like they hit quite the same antihero/villain vibes that Helia has hit in this story.

And to clarify, I'm NOT counting the scenes of the snowy battlefield as being explicitly "Helia". I know that those aren't the true experiences of Helia Erdös, after all.

But even when we just look at her behavior in the Dreamseeker system, when it's actually Helia in control, there's so much more cruelty in her behavior now: cruelty to herself, and to a lesser extent to others. It's her willingness to harm herself for power, and her contempt for others who stand in her way, and the way she has become so comfortable with battle now.

I really want to see what's going to happen next time she interacts with Durandal, now. I think what'd be most interesting to me personally is if Helia ultimately reaffirms her duty & identity as a Valkyrie, but completely drops any pretense of wanting to become a "hero" like Durandal.

A version of Helia where she doesn't even try to pretend to truly care about other people, but who will still fight for all that is beautiful in the world regardless of what others think of her. Someone who grows composed and calm but in a way that is not so much tranquil and peaceful, but rather cold and calculating.

If Coralie truly does come back, I can't help but wonder how she, too, would react to this new Helia. I imagine she'd still care for Helia, but it might be difficult for her to come to terms with this. It'd probably be upsetting for her, but perhaps Helia would find a way to connect in a more genuine manner with Coralie despite the change of heart she's had.

It's just... a lot. It's been a lot to process, I still need more time to process it, but I wanted to get these thoughts out now.

Though, at least I finally caught up w/ the story and found the motivation to share these thoughts before the next story comes out on CN.

Can't wait for the CN server to update and get their new story and for the rest of us to get flooded with more spoilers, weeks before we get to play the story for ourselves. yippee! /violentlysarcastic

When all is said and done, I really enjoyed these last two chapters. I still ultimately hold the opinion that Part 2 should've been a standalone game, but I can still appreciate what great work Mihoyo has done with Part 2 as-is.

I really enjoy that dynamic with Helia and Coralie, and all that Helia's gone through with Coralie now. This really might end up being one of my favorite story arcs, up there along with the SSHC arc, Arc City, Thunders Over Nagazora, etc.

[ddlcbrainrot]

ok so i was feeling nostalgic today and started thinking about how my first time going through ddlc was so i’m making a post about it lol

buckle up this is going to be a long one

so i first heard of the game when it first came out in 2017, which means i was like… 12 years old?? so definitely should not have been watching it but what can ya do. anyway i’ve seen the title in a bunch of yt videos which described it as a horror game, and i was intrigued bc… 4 cute anime girls? how is that a horror game. i was too much of a scaredy cat to actually download it on our family computer so i watched some ddlc playthrough in yt. and i was so bored throughout the first half of act one lmao. i think i mentioned it before but when i first encountered the game i wanted to go the monika route, and i was so disappointed it wasn’t an option (until later on when i realised why it wasn’t an option). also the yt video i watched went down the yuri route and look, i didnt necessarily have a problem with the shy girl character type, what i did have a problem with (and still do to some extent) was how the shy girl is always portrayed in anime. i was definitely a shy person growing up, so seeing the traits that had caused me so many problems be considered adorable and desirable kinda irked me the wrong way. so yeah, first half of the game i was pretty unimpressed. i didn’t dislike it, i just thought “i’ve seen these character archetypes before, i know how this is going to play out, i’ll just wait until the other shoe drops”. and oh boy it did.

i remember that scene in sayori’s bedroom to this day dude. this is probably embarrassing to admit, but i honestly believe that scene changed the trajectory of my life. i live in a very uneducated country on the subject of mental health, so i had no idea on anything surrounding it. i’ve heard the term “depression” before, but it was only brought up either in a joking way or in a way of saying someone is too far gone. which is obviously not the case, but that’s how it was usually used back then in my environment. so to see a character that (even if i wasn’t as emotionally invested in bc of how tropey they were at that point) i liked talk about how they struggle with it was a very eye opening experience to say the least. it’s kind of funny thinking back, but i really was like “huh. depression is actually a real thing people can go through. and it could also be something people i care about have to go through. and something i could go through.”. it sounds dumb when i write it down but that was srsly how it was.

then act 2 happened, i don’t really have much to say about act 2 bc throughout the whole thing i was just uncomfortable and unsettled, which is definitely what act 2 is supposed to make you feel. natsuki was now somehow the most normal one, i didn’t like yuri even more now bc she was now also weirdly obsessive, i knew monika was up to something i just couldn’t wrap my head around what. a moment that stuck with me a lot during act 2 was the whole “can you hear me?” thing in monika’s second writing tip, bc wow this girl knows something and is also very clearly trapped by something and WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?? i literally had no idea where the story was going so the reveal hit me like a truck.

act 3… what to say about act 3… i was so mind blown you don’t even know. remember that i was like 12 at the time, this was my first ever experience with the media breaking the fourth wall. and from what i remember i had an… interesting viewpoint on it. i think there are two ways to interpret monika’s self awareness. first up is taking it under the context of the story, basically knowing that she isn’t actually self aware but for the sake of the story following along with the idea that she is. second one is taking it under the context of the behind the scenes, so you understand that she isn’t actually self aware but you can’t ignore it and just immerse yourself back in the story. it’s a risk the creator takes with breaking the fourth wall, bc the second interpretation usually ruins the idea behind the media. i had the second reaction to the awareness reveal. and i think it gives the game an entire new meaning, one that probably wasn’t the original one but i’d like to talk about it. the only thing i was able to think throughout monika’s monologues was : “oh crap. she thinks she’s self aware but in actuality she is programmed to kill her friends. she isn’t free from the script, she’s still following it. the creator just made her think she is aware but actually, she is just as much of a puppet as the other girls and she doesn’t even realise. she’s trapped in an even worse way than the other girls. bc she thinks she is free”. which, is definitely not what dan was going for, but i gotta say it is ten times scarier.

and then sayori goes through the epiphany too and then monika deletes the game and the credits roll but i was so flabbergasted by everything before that i couldn’t even form thoughts through act 4.

so yeah 12yo me was not only struck with the realisation that feelings are real things (thanks to sayori) but now also the thought that just because you experience something that could be 100% real to you doesn’t mean it actually is (thanks to monika). needless to say this game changed me as a person.

damn this was a long one, i apologise if you read through all of this lmao

[aylacavebear]

Retribution Chapter 1

18+ for numerous reasons

Summary: You had DID for most of your life, over forty years, since you were two. It wasn't until after you were forty-three that you were finally able to heal it and become a singular. You're a hunter and have been with Dean for a very long time. Once you become singular, you have to face the horrors that your mental illness subjected on those you cared about, loved. Can you get past seeing yourself as worse than any monster you've ever hunted down?

Pairing is Dean Winchester x Reader/You

Warnings: Sexual Abuse (memories), Physical Abuse (memories), DID - Dissociation Identity Disorder (AKA MPD), Mental Health Issues, Alcoholism, Self-Deprecation, Thoughts of deserving to have it all done to "you".

Please, if you suffer from any mental illness, seek help. There are people out there who can help you get through it, no matter how alone you feel now or how hard it may seem.

A/N: This is going to be very dark, darker than anything I've written thus far. It will include many triggers - abuse both sexual and physical - in memories and what happens to the reader. I'm hoping it will have a happy ending but right now, I am not sure where this will go. This is your main warning before you begin reading. A/N: Dreams and Memories are indented in italics. Thoughts are in italics only.

Word Count: 1849

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1 - The Night You Run Away 

You had DID for most of your life, over forty years, since you were two. It wasn't until after you were forty-three that you were finally able to heal it and become a singular. 

The DID and having 42 personalities made life easy in some ways and horrible in others. Some personalities had valuable skills which helped while you took on cases and hunted down monsters. Other personalities were like scared children, hiding most of the time in the mind. Then there were the ones that partied after a successful hunt, taking the body on a ride that included whiskey, men, music, and sex. It was the ones who abused your partner, the man who loved you, that hurt more than anything. 

He was being sexually and physically abused by your personalities every night. Lashing out at him and him alone. He would tell you about it, but you had no memories at the time. It wasn't until after you became a singular that most of the memories hit you. 

You ran that night when the memories came, leaving the man you loved, as you couldn't face him, let alone face his brother. Not knowing what you know now. It hurt far too much, and you felt more like a monster than any monster you'd killed.

The roar of your truck's engine is the only sound echoing in your ears as horrible scenes played through your mind. Tears flowed from your eyes, threatening to blur your vision as you drove further away from the bunker and out of town.

You wanted to die for what you'd done while you had DID. The people your illness had hurt, had abused.

Your screams filled the cab of your truck as you stepped on the gas. You'd made sure to turn off the GPS on your phone before you had started driving so he couldn't track you down. He deserved better, and you knew it.

Somehow, you forced the tears to stop. You had to get as far away from him as possible. At the moment, it didn't matter that he hadn't handled things well when your personalities were abusive. He could have handled things differently in some cases. The thing driving you was that he never put his hands on you in retribution for what your personalities had done to him, and he'd never left, kicked you out, or cheated on you.

Sometime around four in the morning, you finally found a motel in a town far from the bunker, from him. After checking in, you walked to the corner store, purchased a couple bottles of whiskey, then locked yourself in your room, proceeding to drown yourself in alcohol. 

Your phone went off, but you'd ignored it for the umpteenth time. Half the first bottle was gone, and at this point, you were relatively drunk and hadn't stopped crying. An hour later, you'd cried yourself to sleep, which were filled with nightmares of what your personalities had done to the man you'd loved.

The room was dark, but you'd recognize the furnishings anywhere. It was the room the two of you shared. You were standing between the bed and the door in an invisible bubble.  On the bed, he was sleeping soundly, naked, like you both usually did after an intimate evening. You watched as your body on the bed next to him woke. It sat up, turning to him before slowly dancing its fingertips along his bare chest.  He let out a low moan, his body responding to their touch. At first, you watched in mild curiosity, but fear soon took over as they looked at you, smirking. They turned their attention back to his body, their hands moving down his chest, teasing along his inner thigh, then slowly jerking him off to get him hard.  You pounded your fists against the invisible bubble, screaming for them to stop, for him to wake up, for him not to touch them, but he couldn’t hear you. He didn’t wake, not from their touches. All you could do was watch as they climbed on top of him, lined his cock up with their entrance before slowly sliding down, taking him to his base.  They rode him, rocking their hips against his, grinding him deep inside them. You heard their orgasm hit them and watched as they rode it out. That was when he reached up and grabbed their hips, and the entire situation changed. A switch happened, causing another personality to come forward, now fighting an invisible attacker as they were thrown into some flashback you couldn’t see. They punched him in the face, getting off of him the moment he let go to cover his face. He was still partially asleep, though, as they shied away, trying to get to the far side of the bed in utter terror. He rolled to his side, trying to comfort them, but the moment he touched them again, they swung at him. He did block several hits, but they got several in, and you knew he’d have a black eye from all of it. They even brought a knee up, getting him in his stomach. You felt the tears fall down your cheeks as you hit your knees, sobbing, unable to stop what was happening in your nightmare, the memory replaying. 

Your eyelids felt heavy as you began waking up, not wanting to open your eyes. Again, your phone was vibrating on the night table. Another call you couldn’t answer. Slowly, you pulled yourself into a ball on the bed, feeling the burning of fresh tears as you opened your eyes.

“Noon…” you mumbled, glancing at the clock, not really caring.

There had to be a way to get through this, but you weren’t even sure where to start. You couldn’t understand why he’d stayed with you or kept you around, let alone love you with what your personalities had done to him. You also knew you couldn’t stay in one place too long. 

He deserves better. I’m a monster.

Somehow, you managed to get out of bed, grab your belongings, and leave. The brothers knew you well and your habits, at least when you had DID. Things were different now. You couldn’t go anywhere that anyone might know you, so you drove further north from where you were. 

At least by having their memories, you could avoid anywhere they would have gone. Sleazy motels were out, as were bars and small towns. You had no desire to go into another bar for the rest of your life due to the memories you now had. You couldn’t even count how many times your personalities had cheated on him, and that broke your heart into pieces.

“You need to get help, Y/N,” Sam argued with yet another personality. You were sitting in the library, reading a book, the personality in charge of driving the body doing the research needed for the next case. They didn’t even look up at him. “I’m busy doing the research for the case. I don’t have time to get help,” you replied nonchalantly. “It’s getting worse. He isn’t telling you everything anymore. This has got to stop, Y/N,” Sam continued, his tone stern and angry. “I don’t have any memories of the stuff he brings up-,” you began, still casually, but Sam cut you off. “Damnit, Y/N! Have you not seen the bruises? The black eyes, the split lips, the black and blues from you hitting him? Seriously?” he pushed angrily. That was when you stood up and got in his face, “Look, I don’t remember any of it. I don’t know how to stop it or do anything about it. I even tried sleeping in another room, and things still happened, according to him. What the hell do you want me to do about it?!” you growled at him, getting pissed. “Get some help, Y/N. Go see someone-,” Sam began, but you cut him off. “You mean admit myself to the mental hospital,” you began, but looking back on this memory, you saw it, the switch to a different personality, “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. I don’t want him to get hurt because of me,” you said somewhat quietly as your entire demeanor changed. Sam sighed, seeing the switch as well, “That’s not what I meant. Neither of us wants you to leave. We just want you to get help for what you have.”

You felt the tears stream down your cheeks as you drove. There were so many memories like that now, where you could see the switches. Only now, there were the nightmares where the memories you didn’t want, tortured your mind.

When you reached the next motel, two states later, you began drinking again. They had both tried to call you numerous times, leaving you voice mails and text messages to call them. You couldn’t though, not now, not with what you’d done to them. Alcohol wasn’t the best option, but to you, it was better than being sober and crying.

How can either of them see me as anything other than a monster? How can I even see myself as anything other than a monster? Could I make up for what I did when I had DID? 

With that last thought, you remembered how when Dean had died and spent four months in hell, it was equivalent to forty years. Your eyes almost lit up at the thought of that. It was a bad idea, and if you were in your right mind, you might have been able to talk yourself out of it. It was worse than a bad idea. It was a horrible idea. The brothers would never have let you even consider this.

I can summon Crowley. I don’t need to die, do I? Would I have to die for the time thing to work? I could go to hell, have it all done to me. They would all get retribution that way. What I dished out when I had DID would be done to me tenfold. 

Your mind continued to wander along this thought process as you sipped the whiskey. That first bottle now almost gone, and you were quite drunk, again. At the moment, it made sense to you. In most cases, those who had been abused wanted their abuser to experience at least a fraction of what they’d done to the person abused. 

Perhaps Crowley could put my body on ice or something if he has to take my soul to hell for this. It would be poetic justice. This way, I’d be able to feel what they did. What would Crowley want in return? He’s always stuck to deals in the past.

The phone buzzing pulled you from your thoughts. It was him again. Just seeing his name brought fresh tears to your eyes, and you looked away from your phone. You barely finished the bottle of whiskey before you fell to your side onto the bed, passed out in a drunken, dreamless sleep.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2 - Too Many Thoughts

Retribution Master List

Tag List: @jc-winchester

[redwolfstabs]

Werewolf!Stu, Human!Billy; Stus first transformation. I did a bit of researching for this, and have decided that for this au, Stu has a hidden gene from his family, and there’s many ways to activate it but for Stu, it happens because he has too much adrenaline pumping through his veins; so in this case it’s after Maureen’s death and near Billys house. Tread carefully <3 [ @cerealkilleratmidnight ]

Stus wolf form

It had been a night filled with anticipation, culminating in what Billy considered one of the most satisfying experiences of his life. The satisfaction, however, was tinged with a hint of annoyance, as he had partnered with Stu to exact his revenge, which somehow made the whole endeavor even more enjoyable.

The duo had successfully executed their plan, leaving behind a trail of chaos and confusion. With a triumphant sense of accomplishment, they walked together toward Billy's house. Yet, as they strolled along, something peculiar began to unfold, threatening to mar the otherwise unforgettable night.

Stu, at first, appeared elated and full of energy as they exited the scene of their triumph. His laughter echoed through the empty trees, and his animated gestures conveyed a sense of euphoria. Billy couldn't help but relish in the shared victory, exchanging knowing glances and grins with his partner.

However, about ten minutes into their walk, something inexplicable began to occur. Stu's demeanor underwent a dramatic transformation. He abruptly ceased his chatter, his once-cheerful countenance now veiled in an eerie silence. This sudden shift in Stu's energy sent shivers down Billy's spine, leaving him both bewildered and concerned.

With each step, Stu's transformation became more pronounced. He began to lose his characteristic vivacity, almost as though he was gradually slipping away from himself. The vibrant personality that had fueled their earlier mischief was now replaced by a haunting emptiness that seemed to hang in the air.

As they continued their journey towards Billy's house, the weight of the inexplicable change in Stu's behavior hung heavily in the night air.

As they reached the edge of Billy's backyard, he abruptly came to a halt, his gaze fixated on Stu, who was now displaying an unnerving behavior that set off alarm bells in his mind. Billy's eyes bore into Stu's as he tried to discern the cause of this peculiar shift.

"What's wrong with you?" Billy demanded, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance that mingled with his concern. The absence of Stu's usual irritating antics was disconcerting, almost as if it was a distortion of the familiar rhythm between them. This was change, and Billy had never been fond of change, especially when it concerned someone as volatile as Stu.

Stu shook his head, his brows furrowing as he struggled to put his inexplicable feelings into words. "I dunno, man," he muttered, his voice shaky. "I just feel weird."

Billy's irritation deepened, and he couldn't help but voice his suspicions. "What kind of weird? You're not going to run and tell anyone about Maureen, are you?" His voice took on a more accusatory tone, a testament to the paranoia that had taken hold of him in the midst of this bewildering situation.

Stu's eyes widened with alarm as he vehemently denied Billy's accusation. "Of course not!" he protested, his hands raised defensively. "Billy, I enjoyed that. We both did. I'm not taking that victory from you. I just…" He hesitated, unable to articulate the profound unease that had overtaken him. His hand reached up, resting on his chest, as if trying to find solace in a physical gesture. "I just feel… really weird."

The tension between the two "friends" hung in the air, thickening with every passing moment. Billy couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong, and this inexplicable transformation in Stu was the unsettling proof of it. The night had taken an unexpected turn, leaving both of them grappling with an enigma that defied easy explanation.

Billy's skepticism deepened as he watched Stu, who was now fidgeting with his shirt collar, his discomfort palpable. The eerie ambiance of the night seemed to amplify, and shadows danced menacingly in the moonlight.

Stu's unease was rapidly spiraling into something far more disconcerting. He clutched his chest, his breaths growing ragged, and his face contorted with agony. The inexplicable "weird" feeling he had mentioned earlier had intensified to an alarming degree.

Suddenly, Stu let out a guttural groan, and his body convulsed violently. Billy stepped back in shock, his eyes widening as he witnessed the unthinkable, tripping as he moved back so he was now sitting on the ground. Stu's limbs elongated, his fingers transforming into sharp claws. His clothes ripped apart as his body underwent a grotesque metamorphosis.

Hair sprouted across Stu's body, his face contorting into a snout filled with razor-sharp teeth. His spine arched, and bones cracked audibly as he grew in size. In a matter of seconds, Stu's transformation was complete, and before Billy stood a monstrous creature that defied the laws of nature.

The moonlight revealed Stu's true form; a horrifying werewolf. His eyes glowed with an unnaturally bright blue, and saliva dripped from his gnashing jaws. He rested on all fours, shaking his fur.

Billy's initial shock began to give way to a curious fascination as he examined Stu's transformed state more closely. It was undeniable that Stu had become a werewolf, but this wasn't the classic image of a monstrous creature that had haunted the pages of folklore. Instead, Stu resembled a majestic and otherworldly wolf, a creature of wild beauty.

The werewolf's orangey-red fur glistened in the moonlight, and his white underbelly contrasted beautifully with the fiery hues of his coat. He moved with an elegant grace that defied the stereotype of a lumbering, menacing beast. Stu, in his werewolf form, looked almost regal in his demeanor.

Stu's electric eyes met Billy's, and the low growl emanating from his chest seemed more like a warning than an immediate threat. Billy found himself strangely entranced, unable to look away from the creature before him. The fear that had initially gripped him had now been replaced by an odd sense of connection, as if he could see a glimpse of the human Stu hidden within this magnificent creature.

Despite the growl, Stu's movements were cautious, as though he were assessing Billy's intentions. And in that moment, something clicked within Billy. He realized that, despite the shocking turn of events, the bond between them had not been severed. Stu might have transformed into something extraordinary, but the essence of.. whatever they were, remained intact.

Billy didn't move. He knew that running from this incredible creature wouldn't serve any purpose. Instead, he stood his ground, trying to convey through his gaze the trust he had in his friend, even in this bizarre and surreal form. The night had taken an inexplicable turn, and Billy had no idea where this newfound connection with a werewolf would lead, but he was determined to find out.

Stu lowered his head to align it with Billy's, his golden eyes meeting Billy's gaze at an eerily matching level. In that intense moment, Billy's breath caught in his throat, and a hint of uncertainty crept into his thoughts. He couldn't help but wonder if the essence of his partner, the Stu he knew so well, still resided behind those wolfish eyes.

Before Billy could delve deeper into his doubts, Stu's imposing form abruptly surrendered. His massive head descended, gently settling into Billy's lap, and his once-tense body went limp. In that instant, any lingering doubts about Stu's true nature were dispelled, and Billy realized that beneath the imposing wolfish exterior, his friend was still very much Stu.

With Stu's massive wolf head resting in his lap, Billy's initial trepidation gave way to a mix of relief and amusement. It was clear that, despite his formidable appearance, Stu remained true to his nature, which included an endearing streak of playfulness.

"You're fucking heavy," Billy grumbled, though his words were laced with a hint of affection. He had expected the worst when Stu transformed, but having a giant wolf version of his friend nestled in his lap was a surprise, to say the least.

Stu, for his part, seemed to understand the jest in Billy's words. He responded with a playful growl, his ears perking up as if he were listening intently to every word. It was a moment of connection amidst the bizarre circumstances, and it brought a genuine smile to Billy's face.

"Stu?" Billy spoke again, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he dared to tease his lupine friend.

Stu's ears perked up, an indication that he was paying close attention.

"You really are a mutt."

Stu's growl turned into a playful rumble, and he shifted closer to Billy, nuzzling his head against his chest, almost like a giant dog demanding attention.

Billy chuckled at Stu's reaction before realizing he had to figure out how to get his oversized, wolf-like friend into his house and into his room without drawing unwanted attention. It was going to be a tricky endeavor.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @black-dragon-posting & @socially-awkward-skeleton ❤️

A Sabrina POV time. Girl felt like breaking some rules.

"John's room is locked. He's either ignoring me when I knocked and called for him, or he's not in there.", Savannah announced with disappointment as she entered the kitchen after going upstairs to notify John about breakfast being ready. "I told you it's quite late, so he's probably left for work already, Sav. Mathias is outside again." "Why is he acting so weird?", her sister scrunched her nose, observing Sabrina closely while she set down their plates at the table, "And shouldn't you be at work, too, Rin-Rin?" "I-", she hated she had to lie yet again, that she was breaking the pact of honesty the two had made, but with the current situation she felt like she had no other choice, "I took a little break, we don't have as many cases as we did in Portland. I'd rather spend my time with you, pumpkin, than chase some cattle that got loose. As for John… he just has other things on his mind. Nothing you have to worry about, okay?" It was the only answer she could offer, especially when it came down to figuring someone like John out. She wanted to spare Savannah as much from the gruesome details as she could, knew that it would be for the better if she wasn't too aware of the actual danger everyone in the County was in or that the man she believed to be a hero was in reality the most hated and feared person in the region. Telling her the full truth would only hurt her, make her feel unsafe at the ranch. "Do you want to bring his plate out to Mathias? No reason to have the food go to waste." Savannah nodded, grabbing the dish and rushing over to the front door, Sabrina heard her cheerfully call out "Morning, Benny." before it closed behind her. It wasn't long before her sister returned with a smile on her face, her mood seemingly improved at the interaction with the Peggie, "Benny smiled at me and said thank you!" "That's amazing, pumpkin.", Sabrina beamed at her excitement, the knowledge Mathias was being nicer to her helped her breathe easier. Breakfast was another precious opportunity to escape back to the days before Joseph's arrest so Sabrina tried to tune out every concern that emerged at their uncertain future as they two chatted away as usual and set on making plans for how they'd spend the day. "Okay, Sav, I'm going to wash those and we can head out again, maybe we can see-", Sabrina got up from the table, carrying the dishes over to the sink when a vision happened.

The entry to Rae-Rae's farm. Eden's Gate trucks barrelling into its driveway, then John's men getting out and approaching the house. Rae-Rae being dragged outside and forced to kneel on the ground as they led Boomer out by his collar. A Peggie locking him in a cage, screaming, "The mutt bit me!" as he kicked the door to the enclosure with hatred. Rae-Rae's loyal companion barking restlessly, trying to break out, sensing the danger looming over his owner. "You're time for Confession has come, Sinner. There's nowhere to run now." Rae-Rae lunging at the Peggie in front of her, shouting, "Fuck you all! You're not taking my land or Boomer. OVER MY DEAD BODY." Shots ringing out. Her body collapsing down in the mud, blood quickly pooling beneath her and staining her blonde hair. Lifeless eyes staring back at nothingness.

"Rin-Rin!", Savannah called out, pulling at her hand as the grizzly scene faded away and she found herself back in the kitchen. Sabrina's eyes shifted from her sister's worried expression down to broken porcelain pieces that somehow by pure luck had missed her bare feet when the plates had shattered on the floor. "Are you okay?", her sister asked and wrapped her arms around her waist, "Was it a vision? You weren't responding for so long, I got scared. I'm sorry if I pulled you out too soon." "I'm okay, Sav, you did nothing wrong. I saw enough, I promise.", Sabrina hurried to reassure her, despite still feeling miles away and on edge as she stroked her hair gently. Rae-Rae is going to die at the hands of John's men. Her sense of justice told her she couldn't allow it to happen, that she couldn't watch from the sidelines as the Project took more innocent people's lives over Joseph's twisted beliefs. I have to warn her, tell her to grab Ryan and Boomer and run while she has the chance. Maybe there's still hope. There's always time to act before a vision occurs. Minutes, hours, days, sometimes months or years if I'm lucky. I have to try. As her gaze met Savannah's, her mind was made up, embracing the fact she was about to risk their safety and sneak out in hopes of finding a way to reach the pumpkin farm and save Rae-Rae. "Sav, I need to do something, but I'm going to need your help.", she felt her sister nod against her side.

Sabrina bent down and quickly gathered the broken pieces off the floor. Her thoughts raced at the risky plan and the dire consequences it would bring if anything was to go wrong. Chances were she could run straight into a patrol the second she'd make it off the property. A part of her whispered how John would break off their deal, that she'd end up back in the godawful cell in his bunker. "Worry about Savannah, Deputy." No. "What do I need to do, Rin-Rin?", Savannah looked at her in determination, putting an end to her inner turmoil. "Remember Rae-Rae, the nice lady I was telling you about? Boomer's owner?" "Yes, you promised we'd visit her farm sometimes…" "I saw her in the vision, Sav, she's- she's in danger and I have to warn her." "Okay.", her sister chewed on her lip nervously, "Can we … call her?" Sabrina shook her head, knowing the phone in the living room was of no use, "She wouldn't have signal, because the lines are down." Savannah blinked slowly, realization downing on her as she processed her words, "Mrs. Darcy said the same. We can go then? Go to the farm." "I will, Sav. Alone." "Why? Can't you just ask John for help?" "I wish, but I can't. He's worried about us with all the Peggies around, wants us to stay put so he knows we would be safe. He wouldn't be happy at the idea. It's why he has left Mathias outside to keep watch. If he finds out I'm gone he would tell John… and he would be upset."

"So… are you going to sneak out then?" Sabrina took a deep breath, "I have a plan… When you go out to get his plate back, you have to act like nothing's wrong, okay? We can't risk him coming in and finding the ranch empty if he decides to return it on his own. Once you're back inside I will sneak through the back." Savannah nodded along, a calculating gleam similar to their mother's appearing in her gaze. "While I'm gone, you're going to stay upstairs, in our room. Lock the door and if he for any reason decides to check on us, you tell him I'm taking a bath. If they figure out I'm gone, you only respond you don't know where I went, okay? It would buy me time.", Sabrina took hold of her shoulders, "I will be back before you know it." "Okay.", Savannah gave her a small smile in response. "I just need you to be quiet, avoid raising suspicion, and stay safe, while I return, do you think you can do that, pumpkin?" "Of course, Rin-Rin. You know I will! You go help Rae-Rae.", her sister's eyes were shining with conviction. "Okay, give me a minute to go up and grab some things." While it was risky to leave the ranch and it effectively meant breaking John's only rule, asking for permission or relaying her vision to him was absolutely out of the question. What do I tell him?"Hey, John, your men are about to kill this sweet woman in cold blood. You're going to save her for me, right? Right?" No matter how much hope her visions of him provided, she couldn't allow them to fool her into relying on him completely. Any of their talks had proven to her he truly believed everything was unfolding as intended, so chances were he would refuse to help her, maybe even laugh at her for thinking he'd care.

His dedication to his brother's cause meant he would consider it the Will of "God" for Rae-Rae, a Sinner, to die for being against the Project. It would be a similar price to what Whitehorse and the others had paid for defying Joseph. Rae-Rae's life wouldn't be significant to someone that kept so many as prisoners. To someone that believed he was helping eradicate people's sins through torture. How would a believer take the fact I'm working against fate? Trying to change the course of things? No, in a situation where their interests weren't aligned, she could only really count on herself, especially when she had placed too much trust in him already. An array of dark thoughts plagued her brain as she rushed to her bedroom and quickly changed into a pair of grey jeans, throwing on a canvas jacket over the black top she was already wearing. She tied her bangs back and hid the grey sections of her hair under a ball cap, hoping it would enough to conceal her identity. Before she headed back downstairs, she pulled out the duffel bag and took out two of her throwing knives from her bag, securing them to her belt before grabbing her boots and making sure John's knife was still where she had stashed it away. Savannah was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, "Mr. Fluffles and I are ready for the mission." A smile emerged despite how on uneasy she felt, "I'm ready, Sav. Go grab the plate."

She watched her sister head to the front door with sure strides, appearing absolutely carefree as she opened the door and called out for Mathias in a sweet tone, "Benny, did you like breakfast?" Bennett mumbled something out and whatever it was it made Savannah laugh. "Bye, friend. Stay in the shade!", the door shut with a soft click, followed by her footsteps as she returned to where Sabrina was standing. She presented the empty plate triumphantly, "He finished it all. I guess John wasn't lying when he said Benny wasn't angry." "Of course, Sav. Who could ever be angry at this cute face?", Sabrina lowered her voice, "I'm leaving now, okay? You drop that plate in the sink and head upstairs. Remember the plan." Her sister nodded, giving her a hug before whispering, "I love you, be careful." "I love you too. I will be right back.", Sabrina held her tight, guilt over leaving her alone swooping in, but she couldn't sit back and spend a carefree afternoon outside, knowing Rae-Rae was going to die. The visions came to her for a reason, they were a gift as Scott Donovan used to say and bore hope that something out there was looking out for people and had decided to give her a purpose. With the Project taking over she had to take matters into her own hands, protect anyone she could from it. It's what her father would have done, without a question, no matter how much danger it would present for him. Inaction was not an option. It was exactly why Joseph's influence had grown so much in the County: Whitehorse refused to rock the boat despite how serious of a threat the cult had become and how many laws they had broken over the years.

Sabrina put on her boots and sneaked out through the back of the ranch, breaking into a run for the treeline the second the door closed behind her. She used the pines and dense vegetation at the back of the house as cover as she trekked into a straight line, following the landing strip she had spotten from the truck when John first brought them there. Eventually, after walking for a while she reached a main road and remained out of sight while she waited for a car to drive by. The plan was to flag down anything that's not marked as belonging to Eden's Gate. Ten anguishing minutes passed and she was starting to question if she should head further along on foot, when she spotted a red pick-up truck. Without a second thought she popped out of her hiding spot, waving her hands and the car came to a halt next to her, the window rolling down and revealing a dark skinned woman that seemed around her age. Sabrina scanned her attire that was as far from a Peggie as it could get, from the camo shirt and the american flag she used as a scarf to her hat with a scope symbol that covered her black hair. "Well, you're not a Peggie. Quite a strange sight to see on this road.", the woman remarked matter-of-factly. "I need a ride to Rae-Rae's. Are you headed that way?", Sabrina shot her a smile, wondering if she would need to explain why she was so close to the ranch especially at such hostile times. "No, I was going to Fall's End, but I guess I can make a small detour. Get in, girl, before we have company crawling up our asses." "Thank you."

Sabrina climbed into the passenger's seat and the truck peeled off the road just as she was buckling her seatbelt. "Name's Grace. Grace Armstrong. What's yours?" "Blythe.", she lied, offering her middle name, worried about the potential consequences of using her first and how much the locals knew about what had occured at the arrest. Do they blame us for the whole mess? For giving Joseph an excuse to finally strike and take over? Grace nodded, "I'd ask you what you were doing so close to John's Ranch, but I doubt I'd get a real answer. If I were you, I'd stay as far away as possible from him. He ain't one to be messed with, especially not now." "Noted." "Though, have to say, many would be happy if you made his day a tad bit worse, me included. Bastard sure has been making ours hell since the goddamn Reaping." Sabrina bit her lip and nodded, not saying anything at her assumption. They rode in silence, driving through Fall's End when a sight in front of the Spread Eagle gave her a pause: a familiar black jeep was parked in one of the spots and she craned neck back to check the license plate, but it was too late. Leslie? No way, can't be. She wanted to laugh at the idea he'd be in Hope County, though she couldn't deny she missed him, that she missed Portland and the uncomplicated life she had there.

The truck followed a route Sabrina knew quite well and every few minutes they'd pass by an Eden's Gate vehicle or a Peggie holding hostages roadside, to a point it felt like the roads were crawling with more cultists than the woods with wildlife. Before everything had gone to hell, she hadn't seen so many in such frequent intervals ever. Grace finally spoke up again as she came to a stop near Rae-Rae's, "I'm dropping you off here. Gotta ask, are you gonna be okay on your own? The Peggies are running rampant, rounding up people that have been giving John Seed a hard time. Rae-Rae's most likely on that list." "I will stay out of trouble, just checking in on a friend, that's all.", Sabrina opened the door and climbed down, "Thank you, Grace. You're a life saver." "Good luck, girl. You ever need a sniper, I'm one radio call away.", Grace saluted her as she turned the truck around and sped away. "God, I hope I'm on time, Rae-Rae.", Sabrina took a deep breath, breaking into a sprint towards the cover the trees offered in attempt to avoid any Peggies spotting her from the road.

Eventually, she reached the turn leading up to the farm and the sight of a man that was unmistakeably a member of the Project standing in the middle of the path made her blood freeze. His presence was a bad omen, a bitter confirmation that she either was already out of time or her window of opportunity was closing. No. Am I too late? She gripped one of her knives in her hand as she approached him quietly, the plan was to try to subdue him, to not shed unneeded blood especially with her already breaking her promise to John, but facing the man unarmed seemed like a dangerous idea. She grabbed him swiftly, cutting his oxygen flow while whispering, "Go to sleep, I don't want to kill you, okay?" The Peggie struggled, trying to grab at her hands, but at the end failed. As he fell unconscious, Sabrina released the breath she was holding and checked his pockets. "Zip-ties? Why, thank you. You shouldn't have.", she said to his sleeping form and dragged him off the road in case anyone decided to look for him. After grabbing his pistol and tying him to a tree, she hurried further up the path to the farm, feeling ten times more tense than when she had gotten off Grace's truck. As she neared her destination, she could hear cult music playing and John's booming voice coming from somewhere close by, the recording was a harsh reminder of the side of him that had her strapped to a chair few days back and no doubt looked forward to torturing her for information. His tone in the address was full of calculation, it was the same one he had used when he had tried to convince her Whitehorse had bad intentions for making her arrest Joseph.This John was the man that smiled at her cunningly from every billboard, that spoke of sin in every wretched broadcast, that stood behind his brother and did his best to keep him out of legal trouble. It was a role he had been playing for a long time, a mask he wore with confidence but also a mask that had slipped enough times in her presence to give her hope.

"The Project of Eden's Gate would provide salvation. Do not be afraid, God has graced us with an opportunity to start anew, you just have to welcome the word of the Father into your hearts."

He began quoting Joseph like he was a prophet, and the certainty in his words made her skin craw. You're a true believer, John. Perhaps too far gone. Maybe there's no light left for me to find. No. Hope is all I have, I have to believe. Not in Joseph, but in my visions. She kept her weapon trained ahead and soon enough made it to the fence of Rae-Rae's property. Boomer's continuous barking mixed with the Eden's Gate propaganda and the visual of the house with its surrounding structures all pushed her pick up her pace. What met her eyes next was carnage. Death all around her. I'm too late, indeed. There were so many bodies on the ground, blood pooling beneath them. The light sweaters of the peggies were turning red, masking the crimson crosses on them. "Rae-Rae? Ryan?", she called out, knowing it was foolish to think she'd get a response, but she couldn't help holding onto the sliver of hope that somehow the woman had made it. That whoever had killed John's people had managed to save her just in time. Sabrina found Rae-Rae in the exact spot where she'd seen her in her vision. Her body was cold, the gentle eyes that greeted her anytime she'd come by- devoid of life. The woman that had been nothing but kind to her from her first visit to the farm and would never let her leave before having some of her homemade sweet tea was gone. She'd never get to hug her own son again or meet Savannah. The Project had taken yet another soul.

"I'm sorry, Rae-Rae. I'm so sorry.", she whispered, failing to hold back her tears when she took off her jacket and covered her still form with it. Boomer's whining pulled her out of her despair, reminded her she could at least get him to safety. The cage from her vision stood a few feet behind her, his paws desperately scratched at its door that was latched with a lock. "I'm coming, boy.", Sabrina exclaimed and rushed over, a note stuck to the bars grabbing her attention as climbed over the trailer cart's platform. She ripped it off in a haste and scanned over the writting on the page.

"This dog's a champion. Send it to our stronghold across the street and have it shipped North. We'll let my brother decide how strong it really is." - John

"I can't believe you, Seed. Can't even use the "champion"'s name. You sent them here. You put this in motion.", she whispered and tried to ignore the ache she felt at the confirmation John had something to do with Rae-Rae's death. She could picture him giving the orders in his matter-of-fact voice, not for one second considering the fact Boomer was more than just some dog, that he was the County's beloved hero, considered a part of a family. To John he was a "thing". Something to be shipped off, then used against innocent people that wanted nothing to do with the Project. "Hey, Boomer, it's me. I'm here, buddy, I'm going to get you out.", she spoke in a soothing tone, trying her best to settle him down, "This might be loud, boy.", she trained her pistol at the lock, just as she felt a barrel of another gun press into her back, then a gruff voice rang out behind her. "Drop the weapon and turn around, I won't ask ya twice." Fuck.

Tagging @direwombat @clicheantagonist @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @vampireninjabunnies-blog @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @poisonedtruth @cassietrn @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @nightwingshero @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @florbelles @neonneurons and anyone with something to share ❤️

[sshbpodcast]

Top Five Star Trek ENT Episodes

by Ames

Well, this is going to be a short blogpost, y’all. Sorry for the disappointment, but blame Enterprise! There just weren’t that many episodes that your A Star to Steer Her By hosts really liked – not even enough to fill the image grid above, so guess which ones made it as honorable mentions! Or perhaps it was just that the best of the best really rose to the top in a way that four Trekkies with entirely different tastes could even agree on them. So you’re going to see way more overlap in our favorite episodes than in any Trek series before! Even The Animated Series, which only had twenty-two terrible episodes to choose from!

Star Trek: Enterprise occasionally capitalized on its prequel premise with backstory that expanded the franchise in an interesting way, came up with original science fiction ideas, or just plain caved and gave the audience the fanwank they wanted. Read on below and listen to this week’s podcast episode (jump to 1:32:58 for the series wrap) with bonus picks from guest star Liz for the times that we found most successful from an otherwise mediocre show.

[images © CBS/Paramount]

“Acquisition”: Chris Like in Voyager’s Top Five Eps last year, Chris is getting us started with an entirely fluffy Ferengi episode. We’re actually a little bit disappointed it has made this list because that means there wasn’t anything better to displace it, but that’s not our fault. So just accept that you’re going to fanwank about Ferengi goofiness; squee whenever familiar faces like Jeffrey Combs, Ethan Phillips, and Clint Howard are on screen utterly devouring the scenery; and enjoy the ride.

“Borderland”: Caitlin Speaking of familiar faces, Brent Spiner is back as yet another mad scientist Soong, pressing all the right buttons. How can you not get entirely drawn in by the cocky swagger so reminiscent of Lore? There’s also an Orion slave market (before they ruin the damn Orions in “Bound”) run by the Big Show and that’s just so right. There’s a lot of potential here in the start of this Augments arc, even if the Augments themselves are somehow the least interesting part of it.

“In a Mirror, Darkly”: Chris We could have seen this one coming for years now. Of course the kooky mirror universe episode was going to make Chris’s best list. It’s a screwball concept full of references to make a nerd’s heart swell, lots of overacting from the cast, and a theme song that isn’t “Where My Heart Will Take Me.” The episode also greatly succeeds in finding a way to reward diehard fans with scenes on a Constitution-class starship like in DS9’s “Trials and Tribble-ations,” which Chris also unsurprisingly put on a seasons tops list.

“Observer Effect”: Ames, Caitlin This bottle episode is so successful in its medium that I’m this close to knocking off “Remember Me” as my best example of a bottle episode in a past blogpost. It’s the rare instance of an episode that actually gives the whole cast something to do – even Anthony Montgomery, though we must admit that it’s not as Mayweather that he gets to strut his stuff. I’d call “Observer Effect” a simple premise executed excellently. It may not blow any minds, but it’s just so competent that we had to commend it.

“Dead Stop”: Caitlin, Jake Another fairly simple premise executed well comes early in season two, with a rare example of something truly original to come out of Enterprise. The concept of the nefarious autonomous repair station is just so compelling and creepy, and the tension builds throughout the episode when we start to see that the crew’s desperation to fix the ship is used against them. Roxann Dawson as the inhuman and apathetic voice of the repair station just adds to its success.

“Twilight”: Ames, Jake Is “Twilight” a little bit “Yesterday’s Enterprise”? Sure, but that’s actually a good thing in this case because Archer’s alternate future is a new twist on the trope with a really clever solution to negate the issue and get the timeline back on track. And I’m just such a sucker for a memory loss story because it’s so tragic and fascinating to see caregiver T’Pol have to explain to an amnesiac Archer that Earth was destroyed. Daily. Only for him to forget everything the following morning. What a heart-breaking life.

“Carbon Creek”: Ames, Chris, Jake Another fresh take on storytelling is the fable that T’Pol tells about her second foremother’s historic first contact with humans. Zephram, eat your heart out. It’s just such a clever little story about Vulcans living outside their element, having the occasional fish-out-of-water experience with Earth culture, and coming to understand humans a little more. And how can you not ship Mestral and Maggie a little bit?

“Similitude”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake It’s a tie for the best episode of the series, with a pair of episodes that fully swept the SSHB hosts’ choices. Let’s start it off with the really cool concept of a clone with a fifteen-day life cycle. Unlike in something like “Cogenitor” over on the bad list of the series, it’s clear in this episode that you’re meant to sympathize with Sim and understand that Archer and Phlox are doing something utterly unethical because of their circumstances. And damn, does Connor Trinneer rock this episode!

“Shuttlepod One”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake Last but definitely not least is another bottle episode, showing you just why less is more. It’s such a simple character study of how Trip and Reed each handle catastrophe while freezing their asses off on a shuttlepod lightyears away from anything. It’s also another actor showcase for Dominic Keating and Connor Trinneer, who add so much nuance to two characters dealing with hope and hopelessness.

—

See also: our Bottom Five Star Trek Enterprise Episodes list. And if you want more: here’re all the past seasonal tops and bottoms from seasons 1, 2, 3, and 4!

For those of you keeping count, that’s only nine episodes among four hosts. And two with full sweeps! And thus we close the history book on Enterprise and start voyaging past the classic Trek era. We’ve got more Trek series on the way soon on the podcast, so make sure you’re listening along on SoundCloud or wherever you get your podcasts. And keep your eyes here for our highly awaited Enterprise fanfics next week!  You can also hail us on Facebook and Twitter, and we’ll see you on Risa!

[avemstella]

so that archon quest, huh. Would be absolutely thrilled to hear what u have to say about fontaine act V :] i love all your takes on furina & neuvillette & fontaine as a whole, and of course childe [pretty much an honorary fontanian with how he unintentionally got wrapped up in everything whoops]

Oh boy, I have so many thoughts. To start with some non-spoilerly stuff: I loved it so much. I'm not sure if I'll say it's my favorite Archon Quest yet (I think I would have to go through some of the older ones), but I think it's safe to say Fontaine overall as an arc is my favorite. Even its weakest part (the prison stuff, tbh it was a pacing issue) was still really solid and the ending, while not perfect, really landed. Genshin continued the trend from Sumeru of having the playable characters really take the stage and god there were some great standouts (Navia/Neuvi/Furina to name my favs, but I also loved my fatui and there really isn't anyone I've disliked). And well, the quest (and Furina's chara quest) made me cry like a baby, so that's a win.

Tbh, I think my biggest issue, wasn't even really an issue with the story but just a case of I had a very clear idea of what I wanted out of it (the woes of writing speculative fic pfft) and when it wasn't that I'm like "awww darn". Thats on me, and I genuinely really loved what we got, but it do be like that sometimes haha.

Spoilers below, oh boy (also my Furina fic spoilers too lol).

Eldritch abomination Furina I'll mourn u forever. I can't complain because Furina splitting herself in two to go fuck u to the heavens is such a boss ass move I can't haha. Okay, but I will say, even if I'm probably the only one, I do wish they brought some Remuria stuff up in the main quest. They had the perfect set up with Ajax being there with his Greek myth references and just ahhhh, one can hope they do something with it later. But yes, just know it's my silly headcanon that Focalors just lied about being an Oceanid to Neuvi and is one of King Remus's fucked up Primordial Sea experiments that maybe caused the Abyss rift at the fall of Remuria.

But yes, Furina, Furina, I'm crying. She really destroyed the girl failure accusations in the most glorious way possible. She literally didn't fail once (either of her), she plotted out a plan to trick the heavens, give back what was stolen, and save her people and she did it perfectly. As you're probably well aware, I'm a big fuck u Celestia gal, so it was just so satisfying to see her just obliterate the throne (even when I was crying haha). And honestly, super relevant to the state of the real world, but her giving back sovereignty to Neuvi in my mind is a very clear decolonization metaphor. Ages past descenders came to Teyvat, killed the dragons and created their own order, and now Focalors is returning that power back to said dragon (or well, the dragon's heir, it's a bit vague if Neuvi's literally the old dragon's soul reincarnated or just the body).

The entire scene between Neuvi and Focalors was great, though I will admit I have one issue with it (and even then I go back and forth on it haha). Neuvi in that scene doesn't have a big attachment to Focalors. What I mean is that ultimately Neuvi only ever knew Furina (which side note I'll get into this next, but I do view them as the same person, but still), and with Focalors' 'death' he's not technically losing anything, the person he's sad over will still be there. Like don't get me wrong, he's very empathetic and can be sad over this person who is dying for them, but I feel like it could have been even more heartbreaking if he had met Furina/Focalors before the split, or he had interacted with Focalors somehow in the past, and so in this moment he wasn't just watching Furina's sacrifice, but the sacrifice of someone he shares memories with. But that's me being picky haha and not really a critique on the writing.

But yes, Furina! Focalors! As I previewed before, I'm going to come out swinging with a possibly hot take. They are, and always were the same person. Yes, Focalors is the divinity, but as we see after Furina is allowed to rest her persona, Furina is also super mature and knowledgeable. In Neuvi's flashback quotes of Furina, it's her softly giving important advice about living with humanity, which is what Focalors was all about. And much like Furina, Focalors loves preforming, she loves humans, she gets all excited about Furina and her future, and is sad she won't get to experience it.

Not to remotely downplay Furina's suffering (because holy shit my poor girl), but Focalors too played her role. Unlike Furina who had Neuvillette and all her friends post this, Focalors was all alone in the Oratrice, waiting for the day she had to kill herself. Furina, has the promise of a future, despite all the suffering she endured to get there. She gets the reward of a happy life as a human surrounded by people who love her, and while it was touch a go for a bit, she was told one day her play would end. In contrast, while Focalors didn't have the same anxiety that Furina had, Focalors knew from the beginning she would never get to see her people saved. Technically she, like Furina, didn't even know if it would even happen. She put her faith in Neuvillette to follow through, and while she had the utmost faith in him, she could never know for certain. But much like her mirror Furina, Focalors weighed her suffering over the people of Fontaine's, and never once faltered. Furina was willing to possibly kill herself via primordial seawater in order to keep up her ruse, whose to say Focalors wasn't the same. Smiling at Neuvillette until the last moment because she couldn't risk him interfering, hiding away her anxieties and sorrow, so he wouldn't look so sad. Furina's performance ended, Focalors' never will.

Focalors was so certain she couldn't be human, but as we see from the Oceanids it was totally possible. And even more vitally, we see from the other Archons it's possible. They might fumble around a bit (some more than others, looking at u Ei), but they are learning and immersing themselves with their people. While not an Archon, it's the same with Neuvillette. Focalors should have had the same opportunities as Furina and the rest (mostly because she is Furina), but the world isn't kind, and that's why her sacrifice hurts.

If u can't tell I have a lot of feelings about Focalors/Furina and while I can appreciate a joke about Focalors giving Furina anxiety, I'm also like, they are literally the same person working together, she deserves the world (all of her).

But yes, I can go on and on about Furina, but for now I'll move onto our boy Childe. To get it out of the way, a little disappointed that we really got no answers about him. Poor guy didn't really have any lines. Also, not big on Skirk's design, mostly the outfit. Putting her next to Dain and uh, yeah (like don't get me wrong don't mind the color scheme and all, but could she not have gotten some kind of armor. Or look more like Foul Legacy or something idk).

But onto more happier notes, I'm so happy to see Childe finally getting to do well in a fight. I know it's a meme for him to get beaten up, but my dude is the Vanguard, let him win sometimes (he doesn't technically win here, but he was fighting an eldritch whale monster for ages and helped save Fontaine, I'm giving it to him). And Skirk, while her design is mostly less to be desired, I'm winning on guessing her hair and eye color haha. Also, while I'll always love my version, I'm liking her personality so far. Her yeeting Childe, while I admit took me out a bit (I thought she threw him farther into the Abyss and was like, "uh guys, yall worried about my poor boy here???" and then was a bit baffled at them saying he was fine) was so fucking funny. It's cool to learn "Foul Legacy" refers to a literal person, and I found the fact that Skirk's relationship with Foul is basically the same as her relationship with Childe very amusing. And it seems she's Khaenri'ahn, maybe? Also, I thought she was listing off her master's other names at first, so when she said Gold I got super hyped that I guessed correctly about the narwhal being Rhine's in my fic, but then they were like nope pfft. I'll take it as a win.

Sidenote, Alice and Rhine where are yoooouuuuuu.

Ultimately, while I enjoyed the Childe and Skirk stuff, it really just feels like a set-up for later stuff. Which isn't really a problem, but I was hoping we'd get something a bit more concrete. Like, I thought we were going to get answers about the "it" that Skirk saw in him, and it would have to do with the Narwhal, but now it seems those were mostly unrelated??? While I did find baby Ajax accidentally waking up a big world eating monster up kind of hilarious, it did feel a little incidental, if that makes any sense. Like, Fontaine's doom was an accident and not the result of anyone's choices. But that might just be a me thing. (and the quest needed more Arle, where was she??? my not really based on anything theory is that whenever we get Furina (or maybe Nevui's) 2nd character quest, Arle will be the boss fight. A reverse of the normal final Harb boss fight during the Archon quest)

Okay, because I really don't want to end on a downer (as I said uptop, I genuinely adored this quest haha), here are some minor spoilers from the Narzissenkreuz Ordo quest that have me by a chokehold.

I wasn't ready for a sudden Ajax. What does this mean??????

And this one just makes me laugh. Whichever Ordo member wrote this, I vehemently disagree with u and am on Khaenri'ah's side with this one. I'd much rather have bread then some higher power nonsense. In my fic I tend to write Khaenri'ah more akin to a modern nation than a fantasy one, and its nice to see me vindicated pfft.

Other random notes, enjoyed that the Fatui weren't just cartoonishly evil in both the main and world quests. I like some nuance. I saw that Sandrone hint, that was fun. Though it makes me wonder when we'll get Columbina lore (especially because if the theory about Harbinger boss fight order based on the Constellation circle is true, she should be showing up soon. Though also I half think that order will break because if it doesn't, it means Sandrone will probably be the final Harb boss which is an odd choice.) As revealed on Furina's weapon, Egeria being around during Remuria raises so many questions around the timeline of events. Genshin pls tell me when the Archon war takes place in all this pls (if they tell us in some lore I haven't read yet, whoops). (also on egeria, I mourn my version but hey, she exists in my heart and in my fics pfft. I can't wait to write her in smfwtwd and venti fic, though she's getting a new name for confusion and better symbolsism)

the contrast between Neuvi and Furina after the quest is so funny and sad. Neuvi "Furina is the best, I want her to be happy". Furina, "Everyone hates me, Neuvillette most of all, I can never face him again." And the other Archons, they are all like Furina, wow u are so cool (which just highlights Neuvi's utter disdain for them other than Nahida haha).

And most vitally, Furina and Venti should be best friends. Musically inclined performers who definitely aren't plotting to overthrow the heavens. I think they are neat (they also both have Latin names!).

[daveinediting]

Over the years I embraced a lot of different ways of approaching projects. I deployed a lot of different creative strategies. There is one, however, I never put in play professionally that's coming to mind more and more.

I backed into it many years ago when I was contemplating writing a play without actually having a play to write. For whatever reason, instead of jumpstarting any kind of writing process, I imagined a space. At the time, the most likely space for my unwritten, unimagined play was a black box theater. So I imagined sitting in the audience of that black box theater with the lights just dimmed to blackness.

So.

What happens then?

What I knew about this particular theater is that there was a stairwell directly behind it that let out near the main doors in the back of the black box. At the moment I thought of that, I imagined hearing two people arguing as they came down those stairs.

Make sense?

Audience in the dark.

Sound of argument coming down the back of theater.

The doors swing open.

Two figures enter the theater as the argument continues down the main aisle and a spotlight fades up, illuminating a small area at the front of the stage.

Okay.

I'm sitting in the audience while this is happening and I'm trying to figure out what these two people are arguing about. Which leads me to this:

Who are the people doing the arguing?

The answer comes immediately: a father and daughter.

So now they're center stage under the light where we all get a good look. The argument's ramping up. I know, by the way, what they're arguing about but I don't actually want the play to be about that. 

So the father drops dead.

Right there. Center stage. Act I, Scene I.

Okay what just happened? 

My brain had the answer to that question, believe it or not. And that answer is what my play's about. I didn't set out to write it. It didn't just come to me. I somehow backed into it by mentally placing myself in a darkened theater and asking the questions that were begged. And then accepting the answers that were there when I reached for them. Which is interesting because obviously those answers are in my head. It just took this reverse engineering process, in this case, to pull them out into the real world.

My point, though, is that one way to create something from nothing is to put myself in the audiences seat and ask one of two questions:

1) what is the experience they're having, and 2) what is the experience I want them to have.

These are not mutually exclusive questions, by the way. They can work in tandem if I want them to. They can bounce off each other. They can collaborate.

It's weird how that works (or even that it can and does work) but the only important thing to understand is that this process is real. It produces results.

It creates something from nothing.

And that something it creates can be pretty tasty. I won't lie.

That's the only time, by the way, I've used that process. The only time it ever came up was in a non-professional context.

Recently, though, the I've been thinking about that process.

I'll tell you why tomorrow...

😉

[chrisevansstitties]

Oh, I would never try to reply to this thread on my phone. I wait until I'm on pc, I have one tab of the post, and the other tab is the reblog where I write my replied & switch between the tabs as needed. I know better than to try mobile. 😂

Okay if we miss anything at this point it's okay. But, I'm also not letting you off the hook on my request for you to make that edit of the dance scene to This Is What You Came For. Pleeeeeease. 🥺❤️

No doubt Wednesday would take pride in being Tyler's master. She won't admit it at first, but she likes the thought of Tyler being hers. Not for any fucked up torture kind of way just in the fact that her belongs to her & she belongs to him romantic thing. But, she'll lie to herself in the beginning and chalk it up to some kind of revenge thing. She's not going to do too many vengeful actions to back it up, it'll just be her little thing she tells herself to push the narrative to herself that she doesn't want Tyler anymore. Slowly, that will chip away until it all come tumbling down & she admits to herself that that's not the case. Her and Tyler will work on finding away to liberate him & all hydes from the slave & master curse/dynamic.

The group would definitely turn into a pack. And Enid would find some kind of semblance in that. Hopefully her brothers will follow suit & join the pack. No doubt her mother will be just as overbearing even now that she can turn. Enid will make her exit from her family's pack. She'll realize she doesn't deserve her mother's treatment & be fine with being a lonewolf. Slowly the Jericho gang will start to feel like a pack for their own & Enid will realizes she stumbled into what she's always been searching for. Later on, her dad and brothers will contact Enid again, and tell her the family fell apart without her because they all defended her while she was gone. Turns out the all walked out on the mom after she left & they all get in contact with her. I don't know if they'll be regulars or recurring characters.

Gomez & Pugsley would be so proud that Tyler pulled one over on Wednesday. Gomez will say something like he knew he'd be a good one for his little Viper from the very beginning. And the whole family will think of what he did as some kind of love proclamation. Donovan would probably feel the need to apologize to Gomez after it's all said and done. While Gomez having no idea what he's talking about because he had taken all Donovan's comments towards Wednesday as a compliment towards his daughter's mischievous behavior.

Seriously, I never in thought about Joel join the show until you brought it to my attention. Now, I'm actually kind of curious if they did what role he would play. Just not the stalker though.

Of course Donovan isn't going to turn his son in. That wasn't even a question in my mind. It wasn't even in the realm of possiblities for me. 😆

I'd love to see some kind of scene of Fran & Tyler roaming together after their newfound freedom. Hugging each other in their hyde forms, then a scene transition to them still hugging in human form then Donovan comes in and joins the hug & they continue whatever they were doing in that scene.

Oh, yes! Fran Helping Tyler get through his difficulties of not being in control without a master somehow. Maybe, they both feel some sort of hyde connection throughout the season because of it. I don't know. Then, it all ends with her being able to witness the two people she loves the most rip her captor & his lil spawn minion apart. It's what she deserves. 🥲

Exactly, Enid & Wednesday gives off the vibes that they wouldn't have gone up & introduced themselves to each other had it not been for their forced proximity to one another. Like, some siblings are. I mean like sure they get along now, but they wouldn't have even thought to talk to each other had they not been living under the same roof. "And they were roommate." Literally, they're just that. And that's fine! There's nothing wrong with that.

I don't hear much from waviers, but when I do it's a headscratcher. I'm like, I guess you could read the scene that way if you want. But they've got to drop the whole she blinks around him thing. That's all I can say about them.

We need to delve into the world of the gorgons more. Their species are mostly reserved do to the fact that they don't want to accidentally stone someone. That's actually very considerate of them. I think they're pretty cool people in general. I just want to know more about them. Ajax seems like a total sweetheart. You could tell he liked Enid too he was more just doing as he was told by not interacting with her, so she wouldn't get hurt. 😍🥰 The siren world can be pretty cool. Bianca's mom better be a huge part of that plot. Then we'll get to see how Bianca, Divina, Count & the rest of them are facing a whole cult of siren's & their mind-controlled minions. I wonder what the show's take on vampires will be. And we need more Eugene. Don't forget Morticia is a psychic too. She's a dove I think is what she mentioned and Wednesday is a That's So Raven. She sees the trouble from the distance, but it's not that easy. She tries to see the situation, then she ends up misbehaving! Lmao! 🤣Okay, I'm done clowning around now. We got so much to explore in this series it's hard to keep up. Yes, let's get Lucas & Tyler to reconnect. They can bond now that they've both ditched that outcast hating friend group! The pack is coming together nicely. I'd love to see the rekindle their friendship. I wonder how that will play out. I forget what the faceless people are. I don't know. That's a whole other thing.

Don't even worry about that. If you want to see it that way that's all that matters. We're all different people we don't have to agree on everything.

That's where the problem starts. Once you start attacking people for headcanons you need to stop. And the whole thinking you're better than someone else for liking something, or seeing things one way is dumb. People get into whole arguments about this shit. It's not that serious. I've seen time and time again someone using the term, "braindead," as a way to insult/shame someone for interrupting a scene, or just plan disagreeing with them. First of all, if you gauging shipping on someone's intelligence level you've already gone too far. If you want to get deeper into & say what kind of intelligence we're measuring. Okay, so the person calling someone braindead for judging a complete stranger's intelligence based on shipping alone, and they trying to insulting them & belittle the other person for interpreting a scene "wrong" is not someone I would call emotionally intelligent in the slightest. I would say that person as the emotional intelligence of a toddler with only slightly better vocabulary. So, we've ruled out emotion intelligence at least. I'm not sure it's worth trying to go into the rest their emotions will have them dismiss any it away.

Yeah, fandom has gotten way out of control. It's time for celebrities to speak up about toxic fandom behavior. And people in the fandom who disagree to start pushing back more. This is supposed be a fun escape from reality. We're all supposed to be have a good time. But some people need to get over themselves first for that to happen.

It's fine. Both of us missed a few things here and there. This thread was so bad. I didn't need to flip through tabs so much. Most of the time I was just scrolling up.

Can we talk about how Wednesday was in the most none triangle love triangle ever? Like, Wednesday and Tyler were doing their own thing meanwhile Xavier was just kind of there. Now if Wednesday liked Xavier too that would be a proper triangle, but that’s not what played out. She was always upfront with him that she was there for Tyler. He was just guy on the side who had a thing for a girl who’s into someone else. It was never a triangle. It almost confuses why anyone calls it a triangle at all.

[slightlymore]

i will not vanish | two

I will not vanish [MASTERLIST] is a companion series/backstory to the ‘soulmates collection’ [doyoung]

demon haechan x fem reader

genre: fantasy, smut, angst!!, comedic and fluff elements, tarot reader haechan

warnings and content: +18, explicit sexual content, oral f, body worshipping, titty sucking, first time penetrative sex for reader, fingering, breeding kink, unprotected and pulling out then protected (?), cum play, dirty talk, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, sexual tension, mutual pining, slow burn, tarot readings, fight scenes and use of swords/knives, magic snakes, wounds, swearing

other characters: demon jeno, immortal jaemin, doyoung, selene (oc), archangel mark

words: 17k

soulmates universe equivalent: my soulmate loves wine

note: the terminology used [demon, angel, archangel] has no correlation to the usual religious connotations

Mark was a peculiar man, you thought.

His eyes were dark as carbon just like his hair. They would pierce into yours as if they could read your mind. Perhaps, he could. He was an Archangel after all. 

But he didn't feel frightening when he approached you that day, gently sitting on the dying grass near you. 

“Are you my guardian Angel?” you finally spoke after his short monologue, explaining who he was. 

Mark chuckled, closing his eyes, and showing white shiny teeth. 

“No, I am not. And Haechan is not your guardian Demon either.” 

He didn’t bother to explain how he knew you were thinking precisely that.

You swallowed. 

“But you can come with me and ask him that yourself.”

When Mark said he knew where Haechan had run to, you had no idea that convincing the University Rector to suddenly let you take a gap year was going to be the most difficult thing to do. 

“What if I promise you that I will get a sick as fuck dissertation on this travel? You’ll get so much fame and so many people will want to come and study here.” 

The woman was slightly swinging back and forth in her huge chair as if unsure. 

“Well, if you write it the same way you speak, I’m not sold.” 

You fought the urge to sigh. “I am the smartest person in Slytherin.” 

“That’s not true. It is, in fact, Kim Doyoun-” 

“Okay, I’m the second smartest person in Slytherin.” You felt your eyebrow twitch. 

“What’s even the topic?” she looked bored. 

“Parallel universes,” you were firm. 

The Rector had to hide a patronizing smile. “Research on parallel universes.” 

Your fist tightened. “I think it’s absurd how we have all sorts of magic, and we can fly and stuff, and we don’t believe in parallel universes and people - no, beings - travelling to them through portals.” 

“What would these beings be?” 

You were unsure. Angels? Demons? Could that actually be the case or were Haechan and his weird friend group pulling the biggest prank in history?

“That would be my my research question, ma’am.” 

You were so convincing that you convinced yourself as well. Or at least, you tried to not think too deeply about it. 

But when you reached the city Mark gave you an appointment in, you fought the urge to run back home.

What were you doing? Were you that stupid and gullible to believe a stranger and follow him around? 

Maybe.

But Haechan has always looked very strange to you as well. His magic wasn’t of your world, and the way both he and Jeno disappeared all of sudden wasn’t normal. You had to find out what the hell was going on. 

“You actually came,” Mark commented, raising his eyes from the phone he was holding. 

The man was sitting at a small round table, in front of a café, a steamy coffee to blur his face.

You sat down as well and looked around.

People were walking by and not giving both of you a single glance.

Of course, you just looked like two normal people having a conversation at a café. You had no idea why you felt like an undercover spy instead. 

“So, where is he?” 

You meant Haechan. 

Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest. He looked so confident that it was making you feel anxious as if you somehow fell into his trap. 

“He’s right here,” he tilted his head towards the entrance of the coffee shop. 

You looked at it, snapping your head. Some employees were inside but none of them looked like Haechan. 

“Not here here. In the Universe he is right now this place is not a café but a tarot shop. That’s where you’ll go.” 

“A tarot shop?” 

Mark nodded. 

“And he’s there.” 

He nodded again. 

“How do I reach him?” 

Mark extended one hand on the table. You looked at his fingers. The palm was facing up and he had one faint scar in the middle of it. 

“Touch me,” he whispered. 

You had no idea what you expected to happen as you leaned forward and slowly brushed your fingertips with his. But you expected it to be something. 

Yet nothing happened.

No electricity, no headache, no vision, no portal transportation. Just you and that strange man holding hands. 

For a second you thought he was some type of creep, and you gathered all the magic you could feel ready to blow him the fuck away. But then his eyes became completely white, no iris and no pupils, and you gasped.

In a second his eyes came back to their usual very dark brown and he smiled. 

“Tomorrow, come back here. Have a good night's sleep, that’s crucial. You’ll find him inside.”

“Why are you doing this?” you asked quickly before he could get up. 

“I thought you wanted to know where he is.” 

You cleared your throat. “I’m just generally curious about him and you and this situation. From an Academic point of view. I’ll write a paper.” 

Mark nodded as if not believing one single word. “You’re useful to me.” 

“How?” 

“You’ll bother him a lot.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You wanted to ask more questions but just like the first time he spoke to you, you blinked and he was gone. 

That morning you woke up after a good night's sleep, completely unaware you were in a different Universe with the task of finding a man called Haechan. 

 Haechan, Jaemin and Jeno were in silence at the round table. The first had a concentrated face as if he were completely in his head. The second looked bored and the third was simply waiting. 

“I know,” the Demon finally broke the silence. “Kimchi jjigae.” 

Jaemin’s mouth opened while his eyes closed. “Unbelievable.” 

Jeno looked like about to attack at any time. “Were you thinking about what to have for dinner this whole damn time? I thought we were on a mission.” 

Haechan eyed the other’s veiny fists. “Chill out. I figured out the plan in the first three seconds and then I wondered about food for the rest of the time. Who do you think I am? I thought by now you would have known I am a genius. Olay, you-” he indicated to Jeno, “Selene. And you-” he said to Jaemin, “Doyoung.” 

“I have to pretend to be Doyoung and romance Jeno, who's pretending to be Selene?” Jaemin asked, confused. 

“I regret every waking hour that I helped you survive,” Jeno didn’t look amused. 

Haechan sighed. “Jaemin, I did say you don’t have to think when I am around, but I didn’t mean you don’t have to use your brain at all.”

Jaemin leaned back in his chair with a smirk as if acting dumb has been his plan all along.

“I have to take care of Selene and Jaemin will take care of Doyoung. To push them together,” Jeno guessed.

Haechan nodded.

“And what will you do?” Jaemin asked. 

“I’ll be the glue,” Haechan answered. “Selene is gullible as hell in this Universe. I was thinking something like giving her a Tarot reading. Telling her a man is coming and describing him exactly like Doyoung.” 

He chuckled as if he was about to prank someone and the other two sighed. 

“It’s going to be easy peasy lemon squeezy.” 

 Haechan watched Jeno trip on his own feet and scratched his eyebrow. “Okay, maybe it’s going to be more so difficult difficult lemon difficult.” 

“I don’t know why I have to pretend to be a girl. I can be her friend even if I’m a man,” Jeno was mad, hands on his hips and long black hair in his face. 

“Stressy depressy lemon zesty,” Jaemin commented from his chair after having a good laugh. 

“I need you to be her only friend, my dude. Every single person in her life it’s going to be just you.” 

“That’s fucking crazy. I feel sorry for Selene,” Jaemin sighed. 

Jeno, or the woman who looked like someone related to Jeno, sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. “This is going to take a long time.”

“Consider this a vacation. Let’s take it easy. Where are we rushing? We have eternity. My book-” Haechan patted an old tome resting on his desk, “says wine business. There’s no way in hell she’s into the alcohol business right now. I stalked. She’s in her last year of university.” 

“You’re a stalker?” 

“I’m a Demon. That's basically the same thing."

"I am a Demon, and I am not a stalker," Woman-Jeno lifted one eyebrow. 

Haechan felt weird seeing him like that. "Did you really have to make yourself this sexy? What if Doyoung falls in love with you instead of Selene? No. What if one of us falls in love with y-" 

Woman-Jeno disappeared to show a very angry Man-Jeno about to whoop Haechan's ass. 

 The day felt quite cold and you shivered after opening the front door.

Was it already sweater weather? The song played in your head as you turned around to run the stairs and grab something warmer from your closet. It would be nice for someone to hold both of your hands in the holes of their sweater, you thought with a melancholic smile.

But there was no one.

After wearing a clean hoodie you noticed the corner of a red and gold scarf, hidden under piles of hats and gloves. You’ve never seen it before and you wondered if your grandma put it there when she announced she was cleaning her closet. Perhaps a nice scarf was needed that morning, you realized. You grabbed it and felt it between your fingertips. It was very good quality and almost pristine.

Why did your grandma give it away? Then you shrugged and put it on.

Running the stairs again your fingers brushed over the “HC” embroidered on the bottom and you made a mental note to search the brand online. 

It was the first day of work after graduating from university and the only company that accepted your CV has been this shady wine company. They barely had any information online but the contract seemed legit. Your task was managing the social media accounts so it made sense for them to not have anything prior if they hired you. Ideally, you wanted to do something more artistic. Like doing art for some weird brand or- 

you stopped in place. A tarot shop?

You looked around as if checking if others were curious about the place as you suddenly got too but there was no one around.

Weird, you thought. It was a Monday morning after all. 

Your eyes darted towards the shop’s glass windows again. It was closed and the lights were turned off. Your reflection looked spectral and you blinked seeing how your lipstick was a little bit smudged on your chin.

 Haechan inhaled suddenly, eyes on the outside of their fake Tarot shop. Behind the glass, you were trying to look inside. It was closed so you thought no one could see you while you were touching up on your makeup in the reflection. 

Jeno and Jaemin looked at Haechan first then in the direction he was staring at since they felt him freeze up. 

Jeno’s eyes widened at the sight. 

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows confused. “What’s up with you guys? Do you know her?”

Haechan stood up in a second, knocking down the crystal ball from the desk with a shattering sound but Jeno’s iron fist stopped him by grabbing his forearm. 

“Don’t.”

Haechan’s eyes were incendiary. “Let go.” 

“No.” 

“I said-” 

“What are you going to do huh? Talk to her? Say what? You’re a Demon and you just talked in another universe a few days ago which felt like years? She doesn’t remember you.” Jeno scolded him but his expression relaxed as Haechan looked up, exchanging a look with him. He looked devastated. 

“Haechan…” 

Haechan shook his head with a tired chuckle. “No, you’re right.” He sat back down and rested his head in his palm, pretending to be busy looking in his book. The crystal ball turned intact on his desk as if it never fell. 

“Haechan?”

“Jeno, it’s okay. I said you’re right. I’m not going to do anything stupid-” 

“No, dumbass. Look!” Jeno lightly hit his shoulder.

You adjusted the big red and yellow scarf around your neck in the window's reflection. Haechan could see the bright “HC” letters on the bottom of it as you walked away. 

 Haechan had to fight the urge to search for you. The Y/N you were in this universe wasn’t like the Slytherin he grew to-

To what?

Love? 

Haechan wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be.

He was a Demon.

Whatever he felt in that Universe almost disappeared during the travel, proof that it was the human flesh he wore to be attracted to you and not his real self. 

But you were wearing the scarf he left behind. That was impossible unless that version of you was the Slytherin.

But humans can’t travel. 

Haechan shook his head. He opened his book and sighed. In a few months, he’d give a tarot reading to both Doyoung and Selene.

Time flies when you’re pretending to be human. 

The cards were neatly piled up and he smiled. Just a simple tool and it makes people lose their minds. He grabbed them and shuffled, pulling a card for himself.

The Tower.

He furrowed his eyebrows and suddenly exhaled like a dog sensing danger, eyes trained on the entrance. He turned all of the candles off while turning invisible. 

“Is anyone there?” your voice could be heard before Haechan could see your face peeking through the crack of the door. He could feel you coming.

“Hello? I saw the lights on and thought it was open. Are you already closing?” you asked again.

You stepped in cautiously and looked around with tight eyes, unable to see much. 

Haechan turned on one candle on the desk. “Who are you?” he asked. 

You muffled a scream with your palms. Your wide eyes looked around again but Haechan was still invisible. 

“I-” you tried to speak. “I am Y/N. I was interested in getting a reading.” 

Haechan chuckled silently. You didn’t look like you wanted the reading anymore. 

He turned on the rest of the candles and the room warmed up while he appeared from the shadows, this time gently to not scare you any further.

“Welcome. You can sit down here,” he indicated in front of himself. 

You exhaled and blinked, eying him from head to toe.

 When you decided to finally enter that Tarot shop after walking in front of it for weeks you didn’t expect to be met by a very handsome young man. 

The place has been creepy for a moment but then it became so cosy that you felt at ease on the chair, staring at the way the man’s fingers were expertly shuffling the cards. It almost put you to sleep.

His hands were delicate but manly, with a single ring adorning them, and a silver watch on his wrist.

You thought he looked too modern for being in a Tarot Shop. 

“Can you please blow on these?” he asked. 

“Huh?” you lifted your head to look him in the eyes. They were very warm but with a piercing darkness you didn’t like, as if something bad would happen if you stared too much into them. 

“Oh, sure,” you did as you were told, hoping you didn’t have bad breath. 

The man shuffled again and spread them in front of you. 

“I’ll let you choose,” he said.

His voice was melodic like a snake playing with its prey. 

You looked at the back of the dark red cards then exchanged a look again. “I didn’t say what my question is.” 

“I know without you telling me.” 

That amused you and the seed of wanting to prove him wrong got the best of you. “Really?”

The man nodded with a little cunning smile. 

“What is it then?”

He leaned back in the chair and pushed back his hair. He definitely didn’t look like he knew what he was doing. Was his grandma - the actual tarot reader - in the toilet? 

“Will I ever find someone to hold my hands in the holes of their sweater?” he whispered. 

Your heart dropped. 

“How do you know that?” 

The man’s eyes twinkled. “It’s my job.” 

You suddenly didn’t feel safe anymore but not in a bad way. You looked down at the cards and you chose one, turning it.

It was the Page of Swords, or at least that was written on it. The image was of a young boy holding, well, a sword. 

You looked up at the man for an explanation. 

“You’re asking a good question. It also means that you might find a lover in some kind of mentor or a studying field.” 

“I’m done studying. I’m working now.” 

“We’re never done learning.” 

That sounded like something an old grandpa would say and the mixed signals that the young man was giving, both young and millennials years old, were throwing you off. 

“So, I’ll find a lover in a teacher?” you were weirded out. 

“Maybe. Or you’ll find a lover while you research something.” 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. Is there something on your mind that you want to research?” 

“I wanted to research this place,” you started then ended with a lower voice, realizing how that could sound to him.

You weren’t trying to hit on him, although he looked- well he was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. If you could have a lover to hold your hands in the holes of his sweater you’d definitely imagine him like the young tarot reader in front of you. 

“Well, maybe you’ll find your lover like this.” 

His expression didn’t give you any information on what he was thinking. 

You looked back down at the card and pulled another one. It was Strength.

You couldn’t tell what that could mean regarding everything else. On it, a woman was grabbing a lion with the symbol of infinity on her head. She didn’t look afraid or tired. She looked at peace. 

“Is that my lover?”

“The Lion?” 

You nodded. 

“That’s an enemy,” he explained. 

“What? I don’t have enemies.”

The Tarot man’s eyes were flickering like the candles in front of him. “You have a task,” he whispered.

He looked like he was in a trance and for a moment it spooked you. The young man looked surprised. But then he looked at you. “Give me your hand.” 

His tone was calm but intense and you didn’t even think of not doing as he said. 

You noticed your fingers were trembling a little as you put your palm on top of his. His skin felt soft but firm, just like what you imagined a man’s touch would be like. 

Nothing happened for a second but then the man screamed and got on his feet, holding his wrist with the other hand. 

You got up as well, the incriminating palm to your mouth, watching in horror the way his fingers were turning charcoal black. 

“What the fuck is going on? This is not a funny trick!” you accused him. 

The young man didn’t pay any attention to you, his soft brown curls becoming jet black and straight in his eyes, the veins on his back popping as his mouth was open in a silent scream. 

“I will- I will write a complaint!” you added, sure it was some kind of elaborate joke. “It is not okay to bring it this far!” 

But then the man fell to his knees and on his side with a thud. 

You ran around the table and crouched down, the sweat suddenly accumulated on your forehead making your eyes burn. Or maybe they were tears? 

“Hey?” you whimpered, afraid to touch him a second time. “This is not funny, please stop,” you tried again and the drops that fell on his arm were tears, this time you were sure. They burned his shirt and blackened his skin. You put your palm on your mouth and slid back until hitting the desk with your blades. 

With a loud thud the front door opened and a tall man appeared in front of you with the angriest expression you’ve ever seen on a human. 

“What have you done?” 

 “I think you should sit down and have a cup of tea,” the young man you learned was called Jaemin addressed the tall and scary young man who interrogated you for what felt like while years while the Tarot man was lying unconscious on the couch. You were occupying the other one, right in the front with Jaemin, who kept pouring you tea although you didn’t want any anymore. The scary man never stopped pacing the room and you wondered when the floor would cave in. 

“Don’t piss me off,” Jeno replied. 

Jaemin rolled his eyes and although you were feeling sick to your stomach at the situation, his energy was very calming and healing, so you let the corner of your mouth turn up for a moment when he locked eyes with you. 

“Maybe if you sit down, you can think better. I don’t think you’re able to do two things at the same time.” 

“You think this is a time to joke.” 

“I just got possessed by Haechan’s spirit while it left his body, I don’t know what to tell you.” 

That was the first time they said the Tarot man’s name and you understood they were talking about him because they both stared at his unconscious face - Jaemin with actual worry that he was trying to hide with jokes and Jeno with love that he was trying to hide with anger.

You didn’t like the way Jaemin said that his spirit left his body.

They also said going to a hospital is not going to help so you stopped insisting. And when you asked who or what they were they didn’t reply. 

Finally, when you asked what happened to Haechan, Jaemin made sure to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong while Jeno was firm on the fact that Haechan would be awake if you never placed a foot in that shop in the first place.

You also regretted coming. 

“Do you have any- adulterer adult to resolve this? Like a parent or a teacher?” you tried again with a timid voice. Jeno sighed as if annoyed to hear your voice while Jaemin poured some tea for himself and faced you like some sort of kindergarten teacher. 

“That’s him.” 

You took a few seconds to process. 

“He-,” for some reason you felt too shy to pronounce his name, “is your parent?” 

Jeno groaned again as if that would be his biggest nightmare and Jaemin laughed. “Not like that, but yes. For how weird it might seem, Haechan is the chaotic parental figure. If there’s something someone should know it’s usually him. If he didn’t foresee this happening, then we’re against-”

“Another parental figure,” Jeno interrupted. 

Jaemin’s jovial expression dropped. The gaze he exchanged with Jeno was so intense and full of information that your intestines twirled on themselves. 

“Why attack now?” Jaemin asked. You had no idea what was going on. 

“He found a weakness,” Jeno replied and looked at you. His eyes weren’t kind. 

“I am a weakness? For whom?” you were starting to get mad yourself.

That Tarot dude scared you to death, the other dudes interrogated you, keeping you there, blaming you for whatever happened, without wanting to explain anything, and now they accused you of something else too? 

“Don’t answer that,” Haechan cawed. 

Jeno moved so fast near the couch that for a moment you thought he teleported.

Maybe he did. 

“Fuck man, I thought you were gone for good.” 

“You would have liked to see me gone,” Haechan tried to cackle but groaned in pain instead.

Jaemin moved just as quickly and brought Haechan a glass of water. “Can you lift yourself? How are you feeling?” 

“Oh,” his eyes were still closed, and he chuckled, “I feel like I’ve been to hell.”

The other men didn’t laugh with him and from their expression, it was as if Haechan literally descended into Hell in the past hour. 

When he opened his eyes, his pupils were fixed on you, and you noticed how black they were. His burned hands were still black fading towards the middle of his forearms. You thought he’d leave prints on the glass, but he didn’t. 

“Well, I didn’t expect that to happen,” he commented after finishing it. He let the others help him to sit up and when he extended his head back as if the movement caused him great pain you saw the lettering of a silver tattoo on his neck. You had no idea if he had it before. You slowly turned your head to the side to be able to see what was written but Haechan put a palm on it. 

“Nosy,” he simply said. 

You straightened your back, embarrassed. 

“I think she needs to know,” Jaemin said suddenly. 

They were talking about you as if you weren’t there. “What do I need to know?” 

They ignored you. “I just need to stay away from her,” Haechan opened his eyes and stared at his burned hands with disgust. 

“And will you?” Jeno wasn’t impressed. 

“Are you joking? After the literal Hell I’ve been through? Of course, I will.” 

You didn’t understand anything of what was being said but you somehow felt hurt. 

“Okay, I am going home.” 

“No, you’re not going anywhere,” Haechan stopped you in your tracks. 

“Haechan,” Jeno’s voice was a low warning. 

“I can’t let her roam around. Who knows what’s going to happen?” he explained extending his thin fingers. 

“You can’t keep her near you. You’re Superman and she’s Kryptonite!” Jaemin added. 

“I am a person, and I can hear you talk!” you raised your voice, and all the candles went off. 

Jeno’s eyebrows were furrowed when he turned them on in the same instant. 

“Was that you?” Haechan asked after a moment of silence. His tone was grave.

You gulped and stepped back. “No.” 

They all exchanged a look as if to check if some of them did that instead, and then they looked at you again like some sort of Fates about to decide on your destiny. 

“Get her,” Haechan spoke and in the same instant Jeno’s hands were on your arms, materializing in front of you. 

Panic washed over you as you tried to escape but he was too strong. “Let me go! What are you doing? Back off!” you screamed. 

Jeno’s body flew across the room, landing on the desk and crashing it. Jaemin stepped towards you, but you raised one arm and he got hung against the wall as if an invisible snake kept him in the air by the throat. 

You turned around, trying to find a way to run towards the door by avoiding Jeno who was already on his feet and, if possible, even angrier than before. But someone’s shadow obscured your face and you realized you were mere centimetres from Haechan. You didn’t bother to understand how he moved so quickly to be there, but one thing you knew, your touch for him was deadly so just one little-

your body was frozen. You tried to speak but you couldn’t move, not even the tip of your tongue. 

“Now,” Haechan sounded exhausted. “There’s no need to be this aggressive. We don’t want to hurt you. Although I see you have no issues hurting us.” 

His eyes were even darker than before, accentuated by the black eye circles. He looked like someone who actually just returned from Hell. 

“You’re going to get all the information you want but you need to be a good girl and stay here. Is this clear?” 

As if he was giving you a choice. 

“I’ll take it as a yes although you can’t move. Nice to see you again, miss Slytherin.”

 You couldn’t remember when or how you fell asleep, if you did at all, or if they knocked you out instead. 

But you woke up in a big white bed and you realized you were wearing soft orange pyjamas with sunflowers on. The shame and anger washed over you at the thought of any of those disgusting men undressing you while you were forcefully unconscious last night. 

“I can sense you’re awake,” a voice you grew to find annoying could be heard behind the door. The room was spacious and airy. It was probably some guest room because it didn’t fit any of the dudes’ personalities. 

“Can I come in? I have breakfast.” 

“As if I have any choices to make,” you mumbled. 

The door opened and Haechan walked in with a tray. “You can choose what to eat for breakfast.” 

“Kidnapping, assault and battery, psychological abuse, conspiracy-” 

“But I also have flaws.”

“Sexual-”

“Hey hey hey, no one did anything sexual,” he interrupted drawing the line at that. 

“You changed me of my clothes into this!” you indicated your body. “While I was unconscious! Hell knows what you did to me!” 

Haechan sighed and put the tray on the nightstand. Then he snapped his fingers, and you were back in your clothes.

They were dusty and sweaty. 

“No one undressed you and no one did anything to you.” 

You were still looking down at your body as if not believing you were awake. 

Haechan snapped his fingers again and you were wearing a different set of clothes. Then another one.

Then a dress with heels.

Then a fur suit. 

“Okay okay okay! I get it!” 

Haechan snapped them again and you were back in your fuzzy pyjamas. 

“Also, there was no assault, no psychological abuse, no conspiracy.” 

“You did kidnap me though.” 

Haechan thought about it for a moment turning his head to the side. “I did yes. It’s either kidnapping or me letting you go, but becoming your stalker. Choose.” 

“I don’t understand why this is necessary.” 

“Listen, I don’t want you here either, but I don’t trust you after what you did to me and-” 

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You sent me to Hell.” 

“You went there on your own!”

“How do I know you’re conspiring with Mark or not?” 

“Who the fuck is Mark? You’re so worked up over a dude named Mark?” 

Haechan closed his mouth and after a moment his whole body started to shake. You realized he was laughing.

“I’ve never realized how simple his name was. Doesn’t sound like a villain at all.” 

“Well, because maybe he’s the good one and you’re the villain.” 

Haechan’s smile disappeared and with it all the warmth in the room.

When he walked in he looked like a normal young man, a boy even. His hair was back to his soft brown curls and his hands weren’t burned up to the elbows anymore.

For a second you forgot what he was capable of or what he did the previous night.

Now he was showing you a little piece of that and you felt your spine shake. 

“You’re right. Maybe I am. That’s what everyone says anyway.” Haechan turned around and left the room without adding anything else. 

You stared at the breakfast tray feeling a weird sensation of guilt. 

 The bedroom door was unlocked, you discovered, after taking a shower and debating whether you should trust the food Haechan brought you. But your growling stomach didn’t care so you had to trust that he still needed you alive, and if he had to kill you, he’d do it more interestingly. 

You walked towards the corridor slowly, following the string of groans coming from what seemed like some sort of living room. It was almost identical to the room in the shop, and you realized you were probably on the second floor of the same building. 

The groans kept going and when you peeked from the corner you were met with Jeno’s bloodshot eyes. 

“I will kill you.” 

You jumped in place. 

“Now now, let’s calm down. It’s not her fault,” Jaemin talked with his kindergarten teacher’s voice and you noticed he was medicating wounds that made Jeno groan like that.

Then you noticed that Jeno was shirtless. 

“What happened?” 

“I went to see your grandma to make sure she’s not worried about you.” 

You were surprised they’d do that.

“But the little grandma was a fucking wolf in disguise,” he added. 

Jaemin chuckled. “Literally.” 

You walked around to see wolf bites on Jeno’s back. “Oh my god.” 

“Yep, a hellhound,” Jaemin explained. 

“My grandma is a hellhound?” you felt your head pulsate. 

“Of course, she’s not your grandma. You have no grandma because you’re not from this Universe,” Haechan appeared on the stairs.

He was addressing you but he didn’t look at your face once. “It was one of Mark’s henchmen tasked to make you believe you’ve been living a normal life here since birth.” 

Haechan walked around Jeno as well and winced. “Why are they not healing?” 

“Well, he’s a fucking dog from fucking underground and I’m an angel. My powers are limited.” 

“You’re a Demon now. Stop using that word,” Haechan sat on the couch and exhaled as if exhausted. You wondered what he has been up to. 

You felt just as exhausted, as if you started to watch a tv show in the middle of the season and you lost very important information. “What the hell are you all talking about? At this point, I think I’m due an explanation.”

 Jaemin finished taking care of Jeno’s wide shoulders by the time Haechan finished his tale. You were sitting on the couch, the cup of coffee you were offered still intact and cold on the small table in front of you. Your muscles were stiff and your body paralyzed. This time, it wasn’t because of any of the dark powers those individuals possessed, it was just horror keeping you in place.

Haechan started from the beginning, recounting the time when he was an Angel (no, not the way you imagine, he scolded you when you asked about wings and halos), then he mentioned his departure from the City (that’s a story for another time, he cut it short when you asked what exactly happened), then he casually mentioned how he lived in this Hell Prison for millennials (time doesn’t exist, he rolled his eyes at the way you eyed him like he was some prehistoric grandpa), and finally, he recounted the way this dude, Kim Doyoung, came to his rescue and they signed a contract (contract with the Devil, you commented, and Haechan ignored you) to make him fall in love with his woman, Selene, in all lives possible. 

“Well, and what does that have to do with me?” you asked. 

“We met in another Universe while I was doing my little task and you’re from there.” 

“How is that possible? I have no memory of it.” 

“That’s what we’re trying to understand as well,” Jeno got up from his chair and grabbed a silky button-down, groaning a little when he lifted one arm to wear it. 

“Do you have any proof of this?” you lifted your chin, surprised you still had a voice to ask questions.

Haechan’s eyes analyzed your features and your courage went missing. 

“Your scarf,” he simply said. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked towards the entrance where your coat and scarf were neatly hanging. 

Then you understood. 

“HC,” you exhaled and got on your feet to go and grab it. The letters were there on the edge of the red and gold woven material. “This is yours?” 

Haechan didn’t confirm nor denied. 

“Why do I have it?” you looked at him then at the others. Jaemin and Jeno avoided your gaze. “Were we close friends?” 

Jeno cleared his throat and mumbled something about work, heading towards the entrance. Jaemin scratched his forehead and just backed away into the kitchen. 

“Haechan?” you hesitated. For some reason, you felt like you had to use “sir” or “mister” when addressing him although you looked roughly the same age. 

The young man bit his lower lip then finally let his gaze fall on the scarf and then your face. “We were acquaintances. Same University. We talked before, that’s it.” 

Your voice was a whisper but Haechan’s demonic ears were very sensitive. “Then why am I your weakness?”

He got up and passed his hands on the dark jeans. 

“Never said you were,” he tried to walk past you but you took a step to the side and blocked him. Your hands, holding the scarf, almost touched his arm and he winced, putting distance between you two. 

“Sorry,” you realized.

The fact your touch was deadly to him was making you feel upset. 

His story had many holes and you still had too many questions.

Maybe the reading was right. Maybe you did have a task, some research to do.

But was Haechan the lover holding the cup with you, or was he the enemy, the lion, in that story? 

“Is this Mark person my lover then?” 

Haechan’s eyes became black. He seemed irritated. “How would I know that?” 

“Well, I clearly have no memories so you’re my only source of information.” 

“Since you’re here to kill me and I can smell his magic all over you, then yes, I guess you two fuck. And maybe you’ve been fucking the whole time and I had no idea,” he replied in a low voice before heading down the stairs. “If you have any more questions don’t ask them.” 

“Then what about you?” you raised your voice so he could hear you from downstairs. “Are you my lover?” 

Haechan stopped and you watched his back. 

“Whatever happened in that Universe doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” he answered then disappeared from your sight. 

 The place was quiet, safe for a low metallic noise coming from the kitchen. You walked towards the noise expecting someone cooking but instead you were met with Jeno’s dark eyes, shining only when the reflection of the knife he was sharpening would hit his irises. They shifted towards you to give you a single glance. He looked like a butcher. 

“Are your wounds better?” you tried to be friendly with that grumpy man. 

Jeno sighed. “Yes, thank you.” 

You adjusted your posture. He was being an okay person?

You remained both quiet for a few moments, safe from the knife sound. 

“If you need to say something, just say it,” he lifted one perfect eyebrow. 

In the mess of it all, you’ve never realized how good looking everyone was.

Truly angels.

Or demons.

You inhaled and shifted the weight from one foot to the other. 

“Has there been something between me and-” you hesitated, “Haechan?” 

The man listened and remained quiet for a moment. He got a sense of deja-vu. 

 “Oh, we– don’t talk much.” 

Jeno looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Why is that?” 

You shrugged. Then you shivered. Apparently, having nude shoulders wasn’t only offensive for the Headmistress but also inconvenient for the autumn cold. 

“He stopped talking to me all of sudden.” 

“Maybe it’s for the better.” 

You looked at Jeno’s chiselled jaw. “Why do you say that?” 

“Haechan,” he started, “is not a great man. You should avoid him.” 

“Because he’s a Demon?” you mumbled.

 “I don’t know,” Jeno simply said. “It’s not important.” 

“It is important to me. I have no memories. If you want me to stay here, you need to trust me.” 

“Thing is-” Jeno threw the knife across the room. Its blade hit the poster and hung on the other wall exactly in the middle. The man walked towards it and grabbed it, feeling it with his thumb as if not completely satisfied. “-we don’t,” he finished. 

“It is not my fault I have a deadly touch.” 

“Maybe you’re a spy,” he commented, lifting one leg and putting the foot on the table. His combat boots were huge and the knife slid perfectly inside. 

“I am not a spy! I don’t have any memories.” 

“If you want to prove yourself, be quiet, and stay away from Haechan. That’s it.” 

You hated him.

You hated everyone.

Maybe that Mark dude was right. Maybe he was the hero and everyone here was the enemy.

Maybe you were conspiring against them.

Maybe Mark was your lover.

Maybe you were the spy.

Maybe maybe maybe. 

Deep in thought, you didn’t notice Haechan behind your back checking whether Jeno was ready. 

“We’re going in five,” his low but melodic voice announced, and you jumped in place. 

He was dressed for some kind of hunt too, you noticed - or assassination.

Haechan wasn’t carrying any swords or knives but the shadows curling around his legs told you he didn’t need any physical weapon to kill someone. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To catch a little bird,” Haechan replied, his back muscles flexing as he warmed up his wrists. Jeno was jacked, but you’ve never noticed how to fit Haechan was as well. 

“I’m coming with you,” you crossed your arms on your chest, faking confidence. If they were going to meet Mark, you needed to be there as well. Maybe seeing him would make you gain your memories back or make you understand something about that crazy situation.

If what they were saying was true, you weren’t of that universe, you didn’t have a home or a sweet grandma.

You had nothing to lose. 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I have magical powers,” you reminded them, the thing still surreal to you. You had no clear idea of how to use them. 

Haechan chuckled. 

“Mark would probably want to see me,” you tried again. 

Haechan’s jaw clenched. His eyes were as sharp as Jeno’s knives when he looked at you, like two dark cuts in that perfectly spectral face.

“This could be a trap,” Jeno’s voice was grave. 

“What kind of trap can this be if I don’t even know where you’re going?” you scoffed. 

“She has a point,” Haechan shrugged.

You hated how they always talked about you as if you weren’t there. 

“Listen, you’re a Demon,” you suddenly said to him. It sounded like an accusation although you didn’t mean it to be. “The Demon. Lucifer Demon.” you added. 

“What’s your point? Don’t waste our time.” 

“Are you really not capable of– I don’t know, entering my mind and seeing if I am actually conspiring with this Mark dude or not?” 

“You’d have a mental block anyway. Mark came in contact with you and sent you here. That is for sure, even if you don’t remember it. The reason why you’d accept to do that-” he interrupted himself, “that’s what we don’t know. And that’s why we don’t trust you.” 

“What if I was just trying to find you?” you tried.

Haechan’s eyes shone but he shook his head. “Impossible.” 

“Why? If I understood everything correctly, you guys suddenly left my home Universe. Maybe I wanted to find you again.” 

Haechan’s mind went back to the last words you told him.

“It’s all your fault. If you knew all of this from the start, you should have just let me go.”

“I don’t think you’d do that,” he simply said and turned around. 

You felt powerless. 

“Haechan, please. Let me come with you,” you whispered. 

The Demon stopped in his tracks and exhaled as if annoyed. Then with a snap of his fingers, you got covered in firm black combat clothes. They were so heavy that you almost fell backwards. 

“Just keep up with us if you don’t want to be left behind,” he mumbled, descending the stairs. 

Jeno grunted and followed him. 

“So, she is a weakness after all, deadly touch or not,” you could hear Jeno comment. 

“Shut up.” 

 Holding Jeno’s hand to travel the space-time wasn’t as unpleasant as you initially thought. No falling and no head spinning. Just close your eyes and open them to a different place. 

The unpleasant thing was his reaction though.

Jeno let go of your hand as soon as he could. You could almost see the way he had to force himself to not clean it on his pants. 

You wondered if given other circumstances Haechan would have been the one holding it for you. 

Your eyes darted to his fingers wrapped in something that reminded you of a sword but it was made of pure shadow instead. Then your pupils focused on the surroundings. It looked like an abandoned warehouse, nothing majestic and Archangel-like.

What if they couldn’t find Mark there?

“But you did find me,” a melodious voice whispered behind you. You screamed and turned around. Haechan tried to move between you two, but Mark was quicker. 

One palm cupped your face and the other one slid on your waist. His lips felt warm and soft on yours, slightly ajar to make them fit almost perfectly together. 

“Hello, my love. Thank you for bringing them to me,” he smiled. 

You didn’t have time to process anything.

Mark - or whomever the person in front of you was - disappeared from your sight, harshly knocked down by Haechan’s thighs, tightly pressing on his throat. 

“If you fucking dare to touch her again I will kill you.” 

The view was impressionable, and you realized you were shaking.

On the surface they were just two young men, one on his back and Haechan knee on his throat, eyes hidden by the black straight hair you understood by now was his real appearance, and the tattoo on his neck finally fully visible - Donghyuck. 

But it was their energy that you could feel, like two black holes about to meet and merge in the most explosive event in history. 

“Unleashing your full powers on me, Haechannie? I haven’t seen you like that in so long.” Mark’s clear and calm voice echoed in the warehouse.

Jeno took a step, and you felt his hand lightly push you behind him.

He looked tense. 

“And who do we have here? Commander Jeno Lee went to the dark side?” 

Mark’s carbon eyes moved from Haechan to the other man. Jeno’s expression didn’t change but you saw the way his forearm’s veins looked more prominent. 

Haechan groaned, pushing his knee further into Mark’s throat. “Enough talking. You sent her to kill me, yes or no?” 

Mark didn’t look bothered although a choking sound came from his mouth, as if he was letting Haechan do that.

In fact, he grinned, with perfect white teeth, and appeared in a different spot of the warehouse, at a good distance.

Jeno’s arm snaked around you as if he was afraid Mark would take you with him and Haechan just slowly got up on his feet, as if he also let Mark do that. 

“Y/N, darling, did I send you to kill Haechan?” Mark looked at you and you eyed his lips, moving slowly around the letters of your name, the same lips that kissed you just moments ago. 

Haechan’s gaze was heavy, staring at every glance you and Mark exchanged as if he could read into that. 

“I didn’t. You chose to come here and kill him yourself, right?” Mark answered for you.

And what you saw next made you gulp and want to lean on someone, but Jeno took a step away, as if he saw that fragment of memory too and didn’t want to be close to you anymore.

 “A tarot shop?” 

Mark nodded. 

“And he’s there.” 

He nodded again. 

“How do I reach him?” 

Mark extended one hand on the table. You looked at his fingers. The palm was facing up and he had one faint scar in the middle of it. 

“Touch me,” he whispered.

 “Enough,” Haechan’s voice was loud and deep.

You looked at him and his eyes were bloodshot with hidden rage. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t get your memories back because you were the one erasing them but I can show you mine,” Mark spoke to you. “If you don’t remember me at least I hope you can sense what we,” he stopped as if a bit embarrassed, “shared together in the past, my love.” 

You felt your throat close. Mark was standing there, chiselled face and perfect posture, his wide eyes looking angelic and the light shining from his essence as he extended his hand towards you calling to you. 

Then you looked at Haechan, shadows slowly creeping around his feet and his eyes, sending shivers down your spine. 

“You tricked us the whole time,” Jeno growled but Haechan stopped him with a hand on his chest. 

“Stop it. Don’t humiliate yourself.” 

“You pretended all of that time. You make me sick,” Jeno didn’t stop. 

His rage was burning so you took a step back. You had no idea what to think.

Mark appeared near you, but you didn’t know if you should feel any safer. 

If what Mark was saying was true, he was your lover and for some reason you forgot, you decided to find Haechan and kill him, thus explaining your killing touch. A

nd from Jeno and Haechan’s reaction you must have become their friend while working in incognito and now they felt betrayed. 

It all made sense. It all clicked together.

But for some reason you felt sick. 

“Mark,” you whispered, slowly turning towards the Archangel. The tattoo of a pair of wings was shining on his arms in the same ink as the name on his neck. 

“Yes?” he grabbed your hands with both of his and you let him do that, staring at the perfect nails for a moment. 

“If you’re a good angel, why do you collaborate with hellhounds?” you simply asked, your fingers grabbing his palms tightly and making him wince in pain. 

“Now!” you yelled. 

Haechan appeared behind his back and grabbing his throat they disappeared together from your sight. 

Your knees felt wobble and you sunk on them. Whatever magic trick you’ve done to Mark it took all energy from your body. 

“Where are they?” you wondered. “You need to follow.” 

Jeno took a few steps forward, eyes staring away as if ready to see them appear back anytime soon. “Haechan would kill me if I leave you alone and vulnerable. He can handle it alone.” 

A cold sensation wrapped you. “They’re going to kill each other.” 

“That’s the goal, yes.” 

“Why? Why do they hate each other that much?” 

“That’s a tale Haechan has to tell. I’m not sure of the reasoning myself,” he replied then turned to face you, eyeing you sitting down on the freezing and dusty warehouse floor. “Why did you help us?” 

“I didn’t help you.” 

“You didn’t go with Mark.”

“I don’t trust him. And no, I don’t trust you two either. I don’t trust anyone. I will not trust any of you. I helped myself.”

Jeno’s inquisitory gaze danced on you and his jaw flinched as if thinking whether that was another trick of yours or not. 

“I got involved in something that has nothing to do with me,” you continued, a burning rage finally warming your body. “And that dude Mark is lying.” 

“How do you know?” 

You gulped, staring at your shaking hands, resting on your knees. “I don’t know. I can feel it.” 

“You’re a Slytherin,” Haechan’s rough voice made you jump in place. “You people can sense lies.” 

He appeared a few steps away from where he disappeared. 

“Are you okay?” you couldn’t help but ask, swiftly getting on your feet. 

Haechan walked the distance and grabbed Jeno’s hand. The latter’s eyes unfocused as if he was downloading information then he nodded and disappeared. 

“Don’t ask me questions as if you care,” his breath was heavy, and he unclasped the hard outwear to reveal the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

He lifted it.

Silver shadows were tangled around his torso, on his skin, and he groaned as if they were painful.

You didn’t notice when Jaemin came around, his hands on your back making you yelp. 

“Take her home. I can’t touch her,” was the last thing Haechan said before you saw the darkness. 

 When you opened your eyes you were on the couch of that same apartment, familiar voices discussing in the background.

For a moment you wondered if everything you’ve been through has been a dream and if those voices were your family you couldn’t exactly remember because of the hazy of the dream.

But when you opened your eyes, reality crashed back on you. 

“...lost him after that. Sent a few of them to Hell,” Jeno was narrating, sitting tall on a chair with crossed arms on his chest. 

Haechan was mirroring him, sitting backwards on another chair, a tired Jaemin working on something on the Demon’s back.

The silver strips. 

“Thank you, man,” Haechan murmured and Jaemin winked at him. 

“What were they?” you asked, sitting up and feeling your head heavy. 

Jaemin grabbed the strips he presumably took from Haechan’s body and sighed. “Angelic snakes or some weird stuff like that.” 

You grimaced as Jaemin went outside to probably get rid of them. 

“Why that face? You’re a Slytherin. Snakes are your thing,” Jeno commented. 

You understood by now that everything they said made no sense to you. 

“Where is Mark?” you asked instead. 

The two men exchanged a look. “He escaped,” Haechan was the one to reply. 

You took in the information. 

“I guess you’re delighted I didn’t kill your lover,” he added. 

“He is not my lover,” you replied back, still unsure of the dynamics. Haechan’s gaze was grave, and you felt unable to look away. Jeno sensed you two would get into a serious talk and wisely decided to walk outside the room in silence. The air felt thick and heavy afterwards. 

“Can you just-,” you started, “can you do what Mark did? Show me some of your memories?” 

Haechan looked away and grabbed his t-shirt, wearing it quickly. “What memories?” he asked.

“Of us.”

“None of them are exciting,” he replied as if wanting to end the conversation there. 

You stood on your feet and walked the distance towards the chair Jeno abandoned. 

“You said we were acquaintances. Mere colleagues in University. Yet you reacted like my betrayal, or whatever the hell I supposedly did to you, could almost kill you.” Haechan scoffed. “I didn’t react that dramatically.” 

You didn’t say anything else, your gaze connected with his in a silent order as you sat down in front of him. 

The young man sighed and you didn’t see him anymore.

You saw yourself in a uniform, a loose green tie around your neck. You were in Haechan’s body, staring at his memories from his point of view. Haechan jolted at the sudden foot hitting his ankle. 

“If you don’t stop being so fucking creepy to women I’ll make you stop with my own hands,” you said.

Then the scene changed. Haechan swiftly put one hand on your nape and the other on your mouth in a mortal clasp. "That’s not something the whole campus needs to know, now, what do you think?" His whisper was so close that you smelled the sweet chewing gum on his tongue.

Then another day, you were writing in his hand because he took away your voice. “Oh my God, stop or people are going to think you’re into me,” he giggled teasingly. You let his hand suddenly fall and looked around scandalized. You could see the way you were flustered.

Then another. You were leaning on a wall, with Haechan in front of you. “Are you nervous?” he asked genuinely, gaze dropping to your chest as if he could actually see your heart through your flesh. You inhaled scandalized and covered your breasts with your arms.

Then other scenes, going quickly.

A peck in a corridor, then a full-blown kiss.

The feeling of his lips.

His hands on you.

His deep voice.

“So are you into demons? That’s why you’re into me?”

His thumb circling your back.

You sitting in his lap. His body pressed against you. A room filled with water, both wet, making out, his mouth on your bare breasts, your moans, his fingers inside of you, you palm swiftly around his-

“Okay enough!” you got on your feet. 

You were panting and you could feel your body on fire. You brought a hand to your throat as if it could help you swallow the sudden lump.

You walked away from him, taking a few steps, but then you stopped, unsure of what to do with yourself. 

“It’s okay. Don’t panic,” Haechan’s low voice was surprisingly sweet. 

You eyed him for a moment. He didn’t look bothered like you, safe for the shining eyes and the nervous fingers pulling at a single thread of his shirt. 

“How do I know this is the truth?” your voice was a whisper. 

When you asked him to show you his memories you somehow didn’t expect you two to have been that… intimate. 

“You said you know when people lie. What do you think? You think I’m lying?” 

Your rational side was screaming at you to say yes, to run away from Haechan and his shadows, but your gut was pushing you towards him instead.

You didn’t know whom to trust. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I don’t know if you’re lying either,” he replied. “I don’t trust you. And now you know why your betrayal,” he paused as if unsure of what words to use, “was so surprising.” 

“I don’t trust myself either,” you sat on the couch, away from him. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m a spy or not. I don’t know if I originally decided to kill you or not. I don’t know if I’ve always lied to you even when we-” you interrupted yourself and gulped, the flashes of his mouth on you making you dizzy. “So you’re doing well. Don’t trust me. Because I don’t know anything.”

The silence felt heavy and you could see the same inner fight inside of Haechan as well. 

“Why did you stay with us?” Haechan looked young and vulnerable in his chair.

He looked the most human you’ve ever seen him. 

“Do I have a choice?” 

“You could have gone with him.” 

“I don’t even know him.” 

“Do you know me?” 

You bit your lip. “Somehow I think I do.” 

Haechan’s eyes felt almost warm and the setting sun made his skin lit up like honey.

How could Demons look like that?

You had no idea how you were looking at him but he suddenly sat up and turned around, one hand in his fluffy - and now back to brown - curls. “Ah, you’re fucking with my brain,” he mumbled. 

You closed your eyes and sighed. “I am not.” 

Haechan chuckled dryly. “For being a hag of a dark entity you’d think I would be more capable of not being manipulated. The human world always messes up with me,” he added the last phrase quietly, almost to himself only. 

“I am not manipulating you. Since I’ve met you, in this world,” you precised, “I’ve done nothing but be truthful with you. I have no memories so of course I have no idea of my previous intentions and I don’t know if I am here now to look for you because I love you and you abandoned me or to kill you. Maybe both.” 

Haechan’s eyes lit up at your words and he looked at you over his shoulder first.

Then he walked the distance so quickly that you inhaled and took small steps behind until hitting the couch with your calves. 

“I will be delusional for a moment and believe Mark looked for you after I,” he gulped, “left, and you were angry at me enough to start working with him and come and kill me.” His voice was an intimidating whisper and you couldn’t help but feel the tension in all of your muscles. He has never been this close.

You could feel his warm breath on your face and the scent of his cologne. Your thigh muscles started to shake and you didn’t know if it was because of the effort of staying away from him, fear, anger, or-

“Would that make sense?” he continued. If he noticed your reaction his face didn’t communicate it. 

“Why not?” 

“Would your love turn into hate this quickly? Or maybe there wasn’t any love there in the first place and all of this time you’ve just been fucking that son of a bitch while playing me. Which one makes more sense?” 

“You want me to hate you so badly,” you lifted your chin. Your thigh muscle stopped shaking and you leaned in.

Haechan flinched but he didn’t move away. 

“You want me to look you in the eyes and scream that I hate you and I want you dead because it would make things for you easier, right? Why aren’t you honest with yourself?” 

Haechan inhaled then scoffed. “You want honesty? What do you want me to say? That I’m happy to see you? That I hoped you actually came to find me? That it kills me to not be able to touch you because I might go to hell while that jerk can kiss you? That I might go insane anytime soon and actually touch you even if that means I’d go to the damned hell and take this whole shitty world with me? Fuck,” he turned around and you could only stare at his back getting farther away as he walked towards his chair, his shoulder blades moving up and down following his heavy breath. 

You put a hand to your chest, feeling your own breath just as quickly. 

“You already know about my touch. What else would have I prepared for your downfall? Nothing. I have nothing on you. You can trust me now.” 

“You destabilize me. I am on a mission. I have a task and you’re here and all I think about is you. This is what you have on me.” 

“This is also why you left, right? Your grand mission. Much more important than anything else. Much more important than me.” 

Haechan didn’t say anything. 

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone.” 

“You can’t go anywhere,” he turned around. 

“I’m not welcome here.” 

“He’ll get to you.” 

“Let him come.” 

“Y/N.”  

“Haechan.” 

His name took you both by surprise. 

“What do you want me to do then? Lock myself in a room forever so I don’t bother you and your task? I can’t be here, I can’t go away. What do you want me to do?” 

“Just stay here. I’m not a piss boy. I can handle your presence,” he finally murmured. “And you can come in now,” he said louder. 

Jeno and Jaemin awkwardly entered the living room. 

“Thank God, I was starving and the fridge is on the other side of this fucking house.” 

 You didn’t sleep much at night.

The conversation you had with Haechan kept replying in your head.

His words, his feelings, his eyes, the scenes he played out for you. 

You felt exhausted.

So much happened in the past couple of days that you felt like a brand new person. 

You learned a lot but you didn’t gain any memories. They were tales told to you but you couldn’t find them in your brain or heart.

Was Haechan truly the one he said he was? Was Mark setting you up? Why did he pretend he was your lover then? Why did he kiss you? So many questions and infinite possibilities.

What if Haechan was right? What if you’ve always been on Mark’s side and you tricked him? But what if you actually fell in love? Or what if you were just looking for him? What if Mark was tricking you all? 

You huffed and rolled on one side. Why didn’t Haechan bring you with him? Why did he leave you? You exhaled. You rolled on the other side. 

“Stop huffing and moving. I can’t fall asleep.” 

You opened your eyes in shock. 

“What?” you thought. 

“I said-” 

You sat up. “Why are you in my brain?” 

Haechan’s roll of eyes could be almost heard through the walls. “We’ve done this before. It’s called talking telepathically.” 

“How is this possible?” 

“I’m a Demon.” 

“And me?” 

“I don’t know. Technically you shouldn’t be able to reply back. Mark must have given you some sick powers while you two were fucking.” 

You let yourself fall down on the pillows and crossed your arms on your chest. 

“Again with this story. We’re not fucking.” 

“You wouldn’t know that.”

“I’m not a cheater,” you were growing irritated. 

“We have never dated. I wouldn’t blame you for it.”

“The thought pisses me off.” 

Haechan didn’t reply but you could sense he was amused and pleased. You didn’t like that he infiltrated your head but a heaviness in your chest disappeared after seeing him in a good mood. 

“How did you get into my head?” you asked again. 

“You don’t have any blocks. Thought you did.” 

“Does it mean you can look and see if I am lying or not?” 

“I’d need to touch you for that.” 

Right. 

“Can Jeno do it?” 

“No.” 

“I thought he was also a Demon with your same powers.” 

“He’s capable of doing it. But I will not allow it.” 

“Why not?” 

Haechan hesitated. “It’s very invasive.” 

“Is it dangerous for me?”

“I’m not letting Jeno Lee see the depths of you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Alright,” you thought. “I will try to fall asleep so your demonic ass and your superhuman hearing can also rest.” 

You expected Haechan to chuckle or at least reply with a grunt but whatever mind connection there was it disappeared. 

You sighed and turned around again, fluffing the pillow with one hand. But the moment you closed your eyes you heard his voice in your head, low and warm but clear.

“I am sorry for abandoning you.” 

You opened your eyes. 

Haechan continued. “I thought I was making the right choice. You said you didn’t want to do anything with me anymore. I thought we were over.” 

You didn’t know what to reply to. 

“If I don’t complete this fucking important mission as you call it, I will vanish.” 

“Why can’t both things coexist?” you asked. 

“You’re human,” he simply said. “I thought you’d live a good life without me. I erased your memories. I don’t understand-” he interrupted himself and you didn’t know why. You felt a sudden lump in your throat and you didn’t know if it were you or you were just sensing his emotions. “-I don’t understand how you got here. This is why I don’t believe you came to look for me. Because you couldn’t have remembered me in the first place.” 

You felt tears prickle your eyes. 

“This is the moment to tell me the truth, please, Y/N. Maybe you enjoy torturing me but it’s too late to keep playing. Just tell me the truth.” 

“I swear-” you started, “I have no idea. I wish I could tell you.”

No thought came from Haechan for a moment then he said a single “Alright.” 

“Haechan?” 

“Yes.” 

“In the warehouse,” you started. “Right before Mark appeared, I had a thought.” 

Haechan waited. 

“I thought what if we can’t find him there. And the first thing he said-” 

“But you found me,” Haechan completed the thought for you. “I don’t know if he can read your mind or whatever Archangels ended up being able to master all of this time I’ve been away. But it could also mean you might have a connection with him.” 

“What kind of connection?” 

“The spell you have on yourself. Your deadly touch. He obviously put that on you. I don’t know if by force or if you accepted it willingly. But it might explain things.” 

“Do you think he can- listen now?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Doesn’t that scare you?” 

“He can listen either way. And if you keep thinking about me maybe it will piss him off.” 

You lifted one eyebrow, the flirty reply to your serious concern making you scoff. 

Haechan didn’t say anything else but you could still sense his presence. It was weirdly comforting and it lulled you to sleep. 

 In the morning you discovered Jeno and Jaemin were on their missions to bring the famous Doyoung and Selene together. You didn’t even know them, but they were kind of pissing you off. The fact they needed a Demon to bring them together instead of actually working on it themselves was also ridiculous. 

Haechan was downstairs, sitting down at his Tarot desk and staring into a glass globe. 

“Are you actually spying on them? Like a stalker?” 

The young man chuckled as you walked behind his back. 

“That can’t be legal,” you added and sat down on the other chair in front of him.

Haechan lifted his eyes under his soft fringe and a mischievous twinkle sparkled in them. 

“I am an evil Demon,” he reminded you. 

You took a sip out of your coffee and sighed. “Well, I guess this is the least evil thing you’ve done off of your list of crimes.” 

Haechan passed one hand on the ball and the images disappeared. 

“Does that thing really work or is it your demonic power?” 

“Just my demonic power,” he smiled. 

“The tarots too?” 

Haechan looked at the pile of cards with fondness. “Yeah. They’re just paper.”

“So did you choose the cards on purpose for me to pick?” you felt amused but betrayed. 

“Actually,” he was still staring at the cards, “I didn’t.” 

You looked at them too. “May I?” you asked and Haechan gave you a single nod. 

The cards were luscious in your hands and felt expensive. You stared at the images on them. 

“You said I had a task.” 

Haechan’s eyes were on your fingers, unsuccessfully trying to shuffle them. 

“I could feel that. Everything I said during the reading is true. You have a task and I wanted to see what it was about in your head, but-” 

Your mind went back to his scream and the way he plopped on the floor as he touched your hand. 

“Do you still think I am here to kill you and that I work with Mark?” 

Haechan shrugged. “At this point I don’t know if I care.” 

That stung your heart. 

“What happens when you’re done with this Universe?” 

“I move to another. And another. And another.” 

You took a card from the pile and turned it towards you. Two of cups. 

Haechan’s eyes fell on it too. 

“And what about me? Are you going to take me with you so you’re not living in fear of me randomly attacking you or will you bring me back to my old Universe and erase my memories the way you did it once?” 

The card had two people on it, both with a cup in their hands. Above them was a lion with angel wings. Below it was a caduceus - the medical symbol with two snakes.  

“I still don’t know,” was Haechan’s answer. 

“What does this card mean?” you lifted your gaze to realize Haechan was already looking at you, chin resting on his fingers. The sun was shining brightly, the last rays of the sun for that year, and his eyes looked like fudge. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was about to lean in and kiss you. 

“Union,” he started. “Attraction. Love.”

You gulped and broke eye contact to stare at the card again. 

“Longing for someone,” he continued. “Healing broken ties. Being drawn to someone.” 

You felt difficulty breathing. 

“Discovering a feeling is mutual,” he finished in a whisper. 

You dared to look up again and regretted it. The sensation of him caressing you with his mind crept into your body. 

“Don’t do this.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” he replied. 

“You’re doing something right now. My body feels-” you interrupted yourself feeling very ashamed. 

Haechan smiled. “That’s called being turned on.” 

“Well, stop turning me on with your demonic powers then.” 

“That’s just human,” he explained. 

You wanted to get up and run away but your knees felt weak. But if you stayed there you were afraid you would end up touching him. His hand was on the desk, mere centimetres away from you. 

“I am dangerous for you. Please go away,” you almost mewled. 

“Mark really has a hidden sense of humour,” Haechan exhaled, stretching his arms back and sliding his chair away from the table. It looked as if it took him a huge amount of effort to do that. 

“He doesn’t want me dead. He wants to torture me,” he added, eyes staring at the ceiling. 

“Can I ask what he is for you?” You felt better to have Haechan at a healthy distance and the air started to flow normally in your lungs. 

“I don’t even know,” the Demon murmured. “We used to be friends. Then he betrayed me. In his perspective, I betrayed him, so I am not sure of the current dynamics.” 

You remained quiet.

Haechan’s adam’s apple moved up and down in his throat and you realized you were staring at his silky skin when his gaze connected with yours instead. 

“I don’t think I could ever have any desire to kill you,” you found yourself murmuring. 

The young man’s lips stretched in a little smile. His dark and lazy expression felt like burning your face and at that point you had no idea if it was his demon powers or just human emotion as he said. 

“I am glad,” he replied. 

“I really wish you could trust me. I can help you.” 

Haechan got up, the tarot cards still spread in front of him. He dragged his fingers on top of them when a card flipped out. It was the Knight of Swords. 

“How?” he asked although his furrowed eyebrows gave him the air of already knowing the answer. 

You got up as well. “I can spy for you.” 

He shook his head before you could finish. 

“Haechan-”

“No. I can’t bear the thought of you with him.” 

You closed your mouth. His silver tattoo was slowly appearing on his neck and the way his hair darkened all of a sudden gave you the impression that he was losing control. 

You really wished you could touch him. 

“Aren’t you curious as to why I am here? How I got here? In another universe? Why I am still me and not my counterpart?” 

“Yes, but you will not do anything about it. I’ll take care of it.” 

“Haechan,” you took a few steps towards him. The man turned around. 

“Stop saying my name like that,” he sounded pained. 

His back was right in front of you, wide in his black t-shirt. You didn’t notice the tattoo he had on it, peeking a bit from under his collar to his nape. You wondered how the design looked like and why he concealed it before - what that meant for him. 

“I can almost feel your gaze on me,” he whispered. 

“What happened when I touched you? Was it painful? Was it really hell?” 

Haechan didn’t reply for a few moments, and you bit your lower lips. Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked. 

“You don’t have to know,” he turned around slowly. His scent engulfed you in the movement and you felt your throat close.

Maybe you looked at each other for too long. Or maybe you were imperceptibly getting too close, but he inhaled. 

“We can’t,” he added with the same tone. You didn’t know what expression you had on to make him say that, but you knew what he was talking about. 

“I know,” you whispered. “I know,” you repeated, rubbing your knuckles on one temple. But you couldn’t move away. “Fuck.” 

You turned back your seat and exhaled. 

Haechan was motionless in the same spot. 

“What does the Knight of Swords mean?” you asked, eyeing the flipped card. You desperately needed to think about something else. 

The young man turned around the chair and sat on it with his chin resting on his folded arms. 

“Action,” he simply replied. 

You smiled. “That’s it?” 

Haechan’s expression relaxed. He hummed. “Do I look like an actual Tarot Reader to you?” 

You chuckled. “To be honest, not at all. When I first arrived here I was expecting some old lady or something.” 

Before you could add something else an older lady was sitting in Haechan’s place and you suppressed a little scream.

“Oh my God. Can you actually do that?” you put one hand to your mouth.

The lady chuckled slowly. “Cool, huh?”

“Okay okay, go back, please. This is creeping me out.”

Haechan’s features appeared back on the woman’s face, and he was there again. You looked at each other for a longer moment and you forced yourself too look away.

“Is there any fun reading I can get? I’m sick of future and predictions.”

Haechan hummed. “There is one.”

You stared at his ring then at his wristwatch, not wanting to risk looking him in the eyes again.

“What is it?”

“Would you be interested in knowing your sexual energy?”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “You’re going to make it all up on the spot, aren’t you?”

Haechan’s little smirk was daring. “Try it out and don’t blame me if it’s too accurate.”

You exhaled and stared down at the spread.

You grabbed a random card and turned it around.

“Chariot is self-restraint. Quiet alone time. Might indicate edging or masturbation.” 

You gulped. “You can’t possibly know all that from a card, can you?” 

Haechan chuckled and shrugged. 

“Do you want another card?” 

You inhaled and bit your lower lip. You wanted to prove him wrong. With a decisive movement you flipped another card and watched the way Haechan stared at it. It was the Devil. You lifted your chin. 

“Now don’t tell me I’m into chains and stuff because it’s drawn on it.” 

Haechan’s eyes shone under his eyelashes. “No. This is Temptation. You want something very badly although you know it’s bad for you. It’s about wants, desires, lust, carnality, senses, pleasure and all things erotic-”

“Alright!” you stopped him. 

Haechan licked his lower lip as if enjoying himself way too much. “The object of desire can be some kind of forbidden love, or-” he stopped. 

You waited. 

“It’s the Devil card. Maybe you really desire, I don’t know, some kind of Demon,” he concluded and you huffed when you realized where he was going with that. You grabbed the card and threw it at him. He caught it with his perfect teeth and laughed. 

“You’re playing with me right now.” 

“I am being truthful. Pick another card.” 

You inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm your nerves. The last card was the Queen of Wands. It looked innocuous and you wondered what story Haechan will make about it. 

“Mmm,” he hummed pleased. He grabbed it and turned it towards you, keeping it in front of his face. “Making me blush,” he murmured. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What does it mean?” 

“This is someone who is shy.” 

“I am not shy,” you tried to argue although your knees were starting to shake. 

“Then,” he thought about it for a moment, “modest. Takes a while to relax.” 

You gulped. His eyes looked feline and his voice sounded lower and smoother. 

“The virginity card,” he continued.

You opened your mouth to speak but you stopped. Haechan waited. 

“I have-,” you started then stopped again. “I don’t know if-” 

Your eyes searched for his as if he could have any information. Haechan’s cheeks bloomed with a very faint shade of red that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t that close to him. 

“Last time I personally checked you were still a virgin, if that’s what you wanted to know,” he gave you the answer. “It doesn’t matter though. This card talks about wanting something pure, not necessarily the literal meaning. The sensation of doing it for the first time. Being taken care of,” he added. 

“Have we never-” you tried to speak again but couldn’t finish. 

“Virginity is a construct, it doesn’t exist.” 

You closed your eyes for a moment. “I know I know. Just- I just want to know what-” 

“We never had penetrative sex, no,” he concluded.

You wanted to hide at the choice of words. He chuckled. 

“Next card?” he offered. 

“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” you rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand to cool them down. But the little smile on his face and the intimate moment made you enjoy his company and you didn’t want it to end. So you flipped yet another one. 

Nine of wands. 

Your gazes met again after staring at the piece of paper. 

His lips looked plump when they moved to speak. The sun setting made the room dark and the few candles just accentuated Haechan’s jaw and the shadows on his chiselled face. 

“It means - keep going,” he murmured, “don’t stop, again, I can’t take this anymore, please.” 

The air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to walk away and get a breath of fresh air, but for some reason your brain was telling you the only way to breathe properly was by kissing Haechan’s lips. 

The sound that escaped his mouth was almost a plea, as you got up and placed both of your palms on the desk right in front of him. He lifted his face to see you. His eyes were begging and you didn’t know what for. 

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered. “Tell me to stop and I will,” you leaned down and Haechan’s soft fringe moved gently under your shaky breath. 

He gulped and the view of his desperate expression made you almost whine. “I don’t think I can take this anymore, please just-” 

You couldn’t finish the phrase. Haechan’s lips on yours felt better than you could have ever imagined and his hands grabbing at each side of your face, pulling you towards him made you melt in his touch. For a moment or many, you couldn’t think. You weren’t brain anymore or conscience. You were just lips and skin, just lungs to breathe in his scent. 

But then he wasn’t there anymore. The abrupt separation made you exhale and you opened your eyes. 

But Haechan didn’t disappear. He was in front of you, eyes wide open and shining, surprised as you.

You were probably mirroring his expression. “Are you okay?” you tried to speak. 

You lifted one hand to place it on his face as if not believing he was there, and he closed his eyes, letting his head rest better in it. “I am okay,” he whispered. Then he placed his own hand on top of yours, sliding his face to kiss your palm. Then he kissed it again. And again. Then he pulled you closer, getting up so fast you didn’t make sense of how he made you sit on the desk getting so close that the only thing you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and let him guide the kiss the way he wished. It was only when he started to adventure on your jaw instead, going around it to reach the soft spot under your ear that you managed to breathe out.

“What about-” your fingers dug into his shirt, gathering the material underneath them, “the curse? The touch?” 

Haechan ignored you, peppering wet kisses all over your throat, making your breath quiver and your legs tighten around his hips. 

Your hands moved from his hard shoulders to his hair, finally sliding your fingers into the thickness of it, feeling how soft it was. Every touch on your skin felt like burning and you didn’t know if it was good or bad but it felt so nice you didn’t want him to stop. 

“Haechan,” you moaned when he slid his thumbs on top of your bust, pulling down your shirt for a moment and the bra with it. His hands went to your spine, supporting you and pushing his face against your breasts, making you throw your head back. The view made him grunt and he came back to the base of your throat, sucking on the tender skin until it stung, and wetting the spots with his tongue. That tongue then slid into your mouth again, both whining into each other’s mouths, too hungry for touch to let yourselves breathe properly. 

“You look like you’re in pain. Are you sure you’re okay?” you managed to talk again as he rested his forehead on yours for a moment. 

“I am in pain because I feel like I’m going to cum in my fucking pants any moment now,” his eyes twinkled and your thighs twitched under his fingertips, gently going up and down on top of your jeans. “I don’t know why I am still here and not getting tortured somewhere underground right now but I want to make the most of it if perhaps I need to go soon.” 

The implication of that made your skin shiver. You didn’t know if you wanted to know what the most of it meant. 

“Are you scared?” he murmured against your ear. “You can tell me to stop and I will,” he repeated the same thing you told him. But just like him, you remained quiet. 

“Please take care of me,” you only whispered and Haechan’s eyes never got that dark, not even when he saw Mark. 

He could have snapped his fingers and gotten rid of your clothes, but instead he took his time, slowly sliding his fingers underneath your soft sweater, feeling the warm skin of your stomach, fondling your body until getting it off completely, all while his tongue never stopped swirling with yours.

The circles he drew on your back going to unclasp your bra could have been some ancient language that only expressed love because you couldn’t have imagined that kind of touch to mean anything else.

And when the fabric of the clothes touched the ground and you were naked in his arms he finally let your lips go, breathing heavily against them, and slid his t-shirt off by the collar, piling the indument on top of yours. His chest against you made you whine and grab at his toned body.

He was hot at the touch and his scent made you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck to get more, while his quick but delicate hands reached the button of your jeans. 

“Lift your hips for me, baby,” he murmured against the crown of your head and you did as he asked, supporting yourself on his shoulders.

He pulled at your bottoms, sliding them down your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours for a moment.

Your chest brushed against his nose and he reached down, peppering kisses all over your cleavage. You mewled when he let go to get rid of your jeans and you inhaled deeply, holding tight on the edge of the desk when he dropped on his knees to free your ankles off the fabric and started to gently kiss them. He came up your legs, accompanying his soft trails with his hands, feeling your body until reaching the softness of your thighs.

You imperceptibly tightened them and his eyes darted towards you. It was a silent command and you felt like covering your face with your hands as you opened wider for him. 

“Good girl,” his breath was hot and the sound of his voice vibrated along your skin getting you goosebumps. Your body was flinching at every touch and the closer he got the faster your chest rose and fell, until you couldn’t take it anymore and just moaned his name, pushing your hips against his face. You heard him chuckle and he didn’t waste any time. The feeling of his tongue on your clothed clit made you gasp and you pushed his hair off his forehead. 

“Can I mess up your hair?” you murmured.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he replied, his husky voice travelling down your core and making your spine curve. 

You got it now. Everything Haechan showed you from his memories was true. The heaviness of his feelings, the desire, the fear, the passion, it was all real. 

You couldn’t imagine not being his lover. While you were there, spread for him and at his mercy, you couldn’t imagine not being on his side, not falling in love with him. 

The little tug at your panties made you focus your thoughts back on him.

“Are you perhaps getting bored, gorgeous?” he clicked his tongue. 

You felt like laughing and shaking your head. 

“I’m just thinking-” you started but the way your panties were slowly descending down your thighs and knees while Haechan wasn’t touching them made you interrupt yourself. 

“Yeah?” he kissed the inner thigh and you shivered, the thought of him seeing every centimetre of you from his position making you unable to focus anymore. 

“I was thinking that I am sure of it,” you repeated. 

Haechan’s soft and plump lips made their way further between your legs and you closed your eyes for a moment all breathy. 

“Sure of what, darling?” 

“That you’re my lover and I am definitely not here to kill you,” you explained with a certain difficulty. 

Haechan stopped right above your sweet spot and you had to bite your lower lip, the anticipation making you lose your mind. 

“A little kiss made you sure of it?” his eyes were dark but amused. 

He looked breathtaking. 

“You know it’s not just because of a little kiss.” 

Haechan’s breath was hot and tingly on your sensitivity. “I know,” he replied and didn’t give you any time to adjust as he gave you a slow and deep lick on your clit making you gasp loudly. 

He hummed pleased at the reaction and he repeated it, again and again until he was satisfied with the sounds you were making. Then he went lower, dipping his tongue inside of you, making you grab at his hair. 

“Oh my God,” you whimpered and you heard the buzz of his laugh at your word choice. 

Your thighs got closer as he increased the speed and you noticed the red tint of his ears pressed against your skin.

It made your chest bloom with affection and it just increased the shivers on your spine as he kitty licked and sucked on you, the hums against you sounding more and more hungry.

His hands felt wide on your ass as he pulled you even closer to his mouth and you had to support yourself on his shoulders. 

“Please,” you started to chant at the way he flicked his tongue. 

His jaw flinched and the moment he directed his gaze on you, two deep cuts under his messy hair, your whole body trembled in his arms.

He lifted his hands and you intertwined your fingers with his as with a last suck you came against his tongue. His name was on your lips like a mantra, laced with swears that to Haechan’s ears sounded like the most divine compliments. His warm mouth was still on you when your breath started to slow down and the little licks he’d give your pulsating pussy made your whole body jolt in spasms. 

“Enough, please,” you mewled at the overstimulation and Haechan listened, peppering kisses on your stomach instead, going up to gently bite the underside of your breasts, sucking on the spot, before giving your hard nipples a cheeky lick. 

You hummed, brain still mush from the high, but body already reacting to Haechan’s touch. He didn’t stop this time, letting you feel his wet and hot tongue, sucking on one bud then another, diligently.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and you let him slowly push you on the desk until your back was resting on top of the Tarot spread. With the corner of your eyes you saw the Devil card and you wondered if it was alright for you to get fucked on it. 

As if reading your mind Haechan murmured against your neck. “As much as I’d love to take you on this same desk you need to be loved properly on my bed instead.” 

His voice was so husky and deep that you felt yourself getting wet again and the way the stubble on his chin felt rubbing against your throat just stirred you even more. 

“I am not against you taking me on this desk,” you slid your palms on his face and brought it to yours, kissing him slowly. 

“That’s going to be for the next time, when I can bend you over it,” he replied against your lips and before you could realize it, your back hit a mattress instead and Haechan’s weight on top of you felt overwhelmingly good. His scent was all around you, his pillows, his room, the sheets you had to grab onto as you felt his delicate fingers dipping inside of you. 

The wet sound felt even dirtier in the dim lights of his bedroom, the deep silence interrupted only by the slow pumping and his mouth on your chest. 

His name came back on your lips and you found yourself spread even more for him to reach deeper inside of you. Like a switch, he found your sweetest spot and your body seized up, curling your toes in the air. 

“There it is. I didn’t forget it,” his amused whisper lingered on your lips, mixed with his moaned name. He curled his fingers so deliciously, hitting the same spot repeatedly as fast as your quick breath. 

“I am going to cum, I am going to-” your quickening voice announces and Haechan hummed deeply. 

“Yeah? Cum for me again, baby, let go.” 

“Fuck,” you dug your nails into his body and the last thing you saw was his veiny forearm stilling between your legs as you pushed your head into the pillows. 

“Good good girl,” Haechan’s voice brought you back from the radio silence your brain threw you in. “You need to relax a bit so I can get my hand back,” he added with a light chuckle and you realized his fingers were still buried deep inside of you as you clenched around them. 

You tried to catch your breath and focus your gaze on him. Not once in your life you’ve felt that inebriated. 

And when you felt his wet fingers on your lips you just opened your mouth and sucked on them slowly with a hum, letting your tongue on the underside of them. 

Haechan inhaled. “I know you’re so fucking dirty. I just want to discover it little by little,” he leaned against your ear, sliding his fingers off your mouth. You let them go with a plop and gulped as he dragged that wet hand on his lower stomach, putting a little show for you as he reached his cock and lazily stroked it. He groaned softly and the small fuck that escaped your mouth at the view made him lean back down, resting his wide hand near your pillow and making you watch the way he aligned himself to your needy pussy and softly pushed inside. 

You pressed your face against his forearm at the sensation, grabbing at his bicep and he exhaled. 

“God,” he murmured, “you’re perfect.” 

You whined again, feeling stretched and full and he searched for your eyes after stopping moving. “Are you okay?” 

He rubbed your face with one hand and kissed your cheek, then your temple. You let out a faint yes and wrapped his neck with your arms, pulling him into a deep kiss. You felt him growing inside of you a bit more and the thought of feeling him all made you clench. 

“You can move,” you whispered against his lips and he gave you another small kiss before gently pushing his hips forward. The first thrust was smooth and it made you open your mouth to breathe better, the second made you curl your toes and the third, deeper, made you roll your eyes back. 

“Demon or not you’re going to make me nut so fucking quickly,” Haechan’s voice was breathy. 

“You can cum wherever you want to,” you entangled your fingers in his hair. The man rubbed his face in the crook of your neck. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to me or I’ll break you,” he replied and as a demonstration his hips snapped and you gasped at the way he managed to bottom out. 

“Does it hurt?” he murmured and you shook your head unable to speak. “Does it feel good?” he tried with a little smirk and you nodded, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips. 

“Fuck, baby,” Haechan thrust once, then twice, until the wet sound got drowned by the skin-slapping sound of his hips against your ass.

Haechan’s bed started to creak and he pushed one hand on the headboard above your head, giving you a better view of his body moving inside of you. 

“Shit shit shit,” you grabbed at the sheets, pulling and twirling. Haechan grabbed them and held them on each side of your head, intertwining his fingers with you to let you squeeze as hard as you wanted to. His mouth was so close to yours but you were both unable to kiss. You’ve never thought of how hot a whining man could sound and the thought of you being responsible for those sounds made your head even dizzier. 

“I want you to cum inside of me, please,” you begged and Haechan moaned harshly against your neck. 

“Ah shit I can’t-” he choked on his breath and rose to his knees, pulling out frantically and releasing on your stomach. 

The view knocked the breath out of your lungs. His messy hair partially hiding his lustful eyes, his chest, his veiny hand still stroking his cock, his plump abused lips still letting small groans escape. 

His cum was hot on your skin and you desperately wanted it inside of you. 

“Give me a second if you don’t want my child,” he exhaled, a lingering amusement on his now relaxed expression. 

“What are you trying to do?” you asked, the thought stirring something in you. 

“Contraception,” he lifted one eyebrow. 

“And if I want the child?” you smiled. 

“Don’t mess with me,” he leaned down, giving you a quick peck. Whatever demonic magic he did was done already because he didn’t miss any more time. His cock felt heavy on your lower stomach, and when he started to rub it between your folds, his tip pushing against your clit, your arms flew back around his neck. The slick made him slide back in so easily that you could just gasp. 

“Hmm, yeah, you’re taking me so well.” 

The praise went to your fucked up head and you could just throw your head back and moan his name again.

The pace was so fast and his thrust so deep that you could feel him inside your gut. Haechan messily kissed your lips and face, murmuring low shhs and nothingness in your ears, laced with curses with his husky needy voice.

His body was hot, caging you underneath him and you felt so full and so safe, you felt loved and desired. 

The emotion that bloomed in your chest imitated the feeling nesting in your stomach, about to burst.

You wanted to tell him many things but you couldn’t find any good words, so you just pulled him tightly and brushed your lips together, chanting his name. 

“Cum for me again, baby,” he grunted and you spasmed in his arms as he pushed you into the mattress again and again until your shaky moans and eyes rolled back in your head making him still inside of you, feeling you rhythmically pulsating around him.

The sounds he made as he released inside of you were the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard in your life. 

 You jolted in your sleep, feeling around you and finding the bed empty but warm. 

“I’m still here,” Haechan murmured, his shadow getting closer. The bed dipped as he laid down and you inhaled his scent as he slid under the covers to pull you to his chest. 

“I thought-” you started but then stopped, the image of Haechan screaming on the ground after your touch still haunting you. 

“I didn’t go anywhere. I am fine,” he added. His arms felt strong around your shoulders and his gentle hands slowly rubbing your head and back were lulling you back to sleep. 

“Jeno said it’s possible that the curse lifted after we touched the first time. Single usage.” 

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest. You couldn’t clearly see his features but his eyes were shining in the dark. 

“You’re saying that we could have touched all of this time and we just didn’t?” 

Haechan’s soft chuckle warmed your face. “Mark humour I guess.” 

You rested your head back on him, listening to his calming heartbeat. 

“Are the guys back?” 

Haechan hummed. “It’s Christmas. Selene will arrive soon. I expect Doyoung to come by in the night of the New Year.” 

You nuzzled your head further into him and Haechan turned to the side, resting his face on top of your head. The little peck he left warmed you all up. 

“I want to come with you wherever you go,” you whispered.

Haechan didn’t comment. 

“Promise me,” you tried to lift your head to see his eyes again but a sudden light invaded your irises. 

You wanted to scream and ask what was going on, but Haechan was on his feet already with you behind his back. You put your hands on his back to balance yourself. 

“Oh fuck,” he exhaled and turned around. “Hold onto me tight! Never let go!” was the last thing you heard him say as the floor opened and swallowed you both. 

[write-ur-wrongs]

The Death of Me

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Word count: almost 4K - big whoops!

A/N: This was totally meant to be a drabble / blurb, but the story got away from me! A huge thanks to the sweet anon who submitted this prompt - I was beyond inspired and chuckled warmly throughout the entire writing process. This baby isn’t proofread so thread lightly!! I sincerely hope y’all enjoy this one :’) 

Prompt:  Heya! I saw your post about wanting to practice writing short stories so I have a small prompt for Geralt! What about: the reader and Geralt have always had a difficult relationship, always running into each other at the most inconvenient moments and hence disliking each other. However, while Geralt is passing through a village the reader comes barging into his room bloody and near death, only getting a chance to say “I didn’t know where else to go” before collapsing. I would be honoured if the idea inspired you :3

____________________________________________________

You’d never considered yourself unlucky but lately life had a funny way of throwing you for a loop, or rather, throwing you to the wolves. One wolf, actually. A damn, irritating, and arrogant white wolf.

At first, it was all business. You’d arrive in a village itching for a contract, only to find that a “legendary witcher” had already come through and taken care of every monster within a two-days ride. Furious, hungry, and broke, you set out determined to get as far as you could and as quickly as possible. Your determination got you far enough that you’d managed a full three months of contract work, but not far enough it seemed.

You’d been on your way to collect payment from your latest contractor when you’d heard the buzz on the street; a witcher had come through asking about work, and had been told to wait and see as someone else (a woman! A human woman!) had already committed to the case. Apparently, he was either incensed or bemused at the idea – the brute was very hard to read, so say the town gossips – but it didn’t matter to you. You beat him to it and now you get to eat. When you finally met with the contractor to collect your coin, you couldn’t help but swell with pride as they thanked you, eyes wide, for taking care of a monster no human ought to be able to handle. You could have sworn your pride had given you wings as you floated out of the inn.

That is, until you heard them mumble under their breath, “Thank Gods that lass was able to handle it! Had it been the witcher, I would have had to pay triple!”

“Thank heavens for cheap labour!” whispered their partner, raising their glass to cheers their big victory.

Suddenly whatever weightlessness you felt transferred onto your coin purse. Biting hard on your cheek you pushed up your chin, determined to remain dignified. But then you saw him.

Impossibly broad chested, rippling muscles evident beneath his leather armour, with golden eyes that reflected back to you with a cruel playful nature that made bile rise in the back of your throat. He held your gaze and raised his own tankard to you as you walked past him. His deep voice rumbled through you as you pushed the door open.

“Cheers to cheap labour,” you heard him say, and swore you could hear the smirk on his full lips.

Groaning furiously, you pushed the door so hard it swung back and slammed shut behind you with such force a flock of birds took off somewhere in town. Undeterred, you stomped off towards your horse and set off at a gallop.

I’m going to make sure I never cross his fucking path ever again, you thought searingly.

You were wrong it turned out, but how were you supposed to know that?

You’d gone years without actually seeing him again, but that didn’t mean you were free of him. You’d alternated winning and losing contracts to each other, and the pressure of beating him to the next one stressed you so fiercely you developed ulcers. That alone would have been enough to push you to murder had you not heard from another witcher that their brother, the great white wolf, was losing sleep trying to keep up with you. Knowledge of this fact spurred you on; after all, if you couldn’t beat him, it’s best to be even, no?

The next time fate brought you two together, though, you could not have been farther from on top. What made matters worse, is that you weren’t even in battle when your paths crossed. Your literal paths just simply… crossed.

You’d been riding east for many days and just as many nights. You were tired, sore, and somehow still soaked to the bone despite the fact that the rain had stopped at least a day ago. You were so tired, your muscles seemed heavy in your limbs, and you had to keep blinking hard to bring the spinning world around you back to its axis. As you rode through an intersection on the trail, the sun peaked out from behind the thick curtain of clouds just long enough to pull you fully into sleep, and right off your still-moving-horse’s saddle.  

You honestly didn’t remember falling asleep, or off the saddle. You also had no memory of the moment another traveler, who was riding towards the intersection on the other trail, leapt off his mare just as you started your descent and caught you before you could split your skull open on one of the many rocks sprinkled throughout the street. You had no memory of the way he’d pulled you off the path, leading both horses behind him as he’d carried you over his shoulder. Zero recollection of him laying you down on a bed grass, tying your horse to a nearby tree, lighting you a campfire, or filling your pack with some bread and meat.

What you did remember, was the arrogant look on his face when you finally woke up. The condescending tone he took as he reminded you that you were ‘only human’ and had to take care of yourself accordingly was also seared into the annals of your memory.

You hated that he’d saved you almost as much as you hated the fact that you’d been asleep around him. Completely vulnerable for God knows how long and he’d been there to witness it all. Whenever the memory of the look on his face or the way he’d crossed his arms and tilted his stupid head as he condescended your humanity came to you, you couldn’t help but cringe even months after the fact.

***

Your saving grace came a full six months after your damned damsel in distress moment on the trail.

Well fed, well worked, and well travelled, you were taking your time enjoying the market in your town of the week. The work you did wasn’t glamourous, but it did allow you the means to afford a few luxuries every now and then. This time, it just so happened that your coin could buy you the sweetest gift of all: revenge.

The market was busy as ever, you could barely hear yourself think over the cacophony of voices and animal bleats bouncing around the square. Had it been anyone else, the conversation would have been lost among the noise around you, but when that voice came rumbling through the mess of shrieks and shouts, you couldn’t help but seek out the source. You didn’t know why you cared or why you were so surprised to find that the voice’s owner was none other than the White Wolf himself.

“You good?” you asked, making sure to tilt your head, hands on your hips, the same way he’d done the last time you’d met.

“Fine.” He practically barked, not even turning his head fully to address you directly.

The merchant, none-too-concerned with your arrival on the scene, continued as if uninterrupted. “I’m sorry Mr. Witcher, sir, but I can’t go any lower. This is the best I can offer.”

“I can’t pay that much,” he grumbled, hands closed into tight fists.

“I’m sorry-”

“Is this enough?” you interjected, knowingly offering forward far too many ducats.

“Y-yes!” breathed the merchant, looking quizzically at Geralt before picking three coins from your open palm, “thank you, madam...”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a warm smile and a nod.

“Y/N!” Geralt hissed, at the same time, reaching out to push away your hand a fraction too late; the vendor was paid, and you’d won this round.

“What is it, Witcher?” you teased, as the vendor took his sword back for repairs, “been on vacation? Why so skint?”

“Been low on work lately,” he replied coolly, cat-like eyes boring into yours, “not as many contracts as there use to be.”

“Well, I’ll be,” you said, cocking your head to the side and pursing your lips in mock contemplation, “I can’t imagine why that’d be the case! Seems I keep running into monsters to kill.”

“Mmhm.” He hummed, narrowing his eyes at you.

Refusing to let him have the last word, you quickly turned on your heels and high-tailed it out of the market, shouting over your shoulder to the blacksmith to give any change back to Geralt before disappearing back into the crowd.

***

Being even should have brought peace between the two of you but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Your last interaction only fanned the flames of your rivalry. As the months turned to years without coming upon each other again, you still found yourself filled with unreasonable anger whenever you saw a mop of white hair cross you on your travels.

And not that you’d know it, but it turned out that Geralt wasn’t faring any better; finding himself frustrated and acting recklessly whenever he’d come upon anything that reminded him of you.

You were both completely obsessed with one another. Thoughts of the other constantly on the mind. Whether in waking or in dreams, you were both equally afflicted by an intense need to outperform, out run, and also, inexplicably, to impress the other.  

*

It was that need to impress each other that led you to accept a contract you should have never even considered taking. You honestly wouldn’t have even considered it had the circumstances been any different but you’d been hearing about this monster for weeks on your travels. Tales of the mighty griffin tearing people to shreds had been circulating far and wide on this side of the Yaruga, and honestly, with every retelling you’d expected to hear that a witcher had handled it, but that never happened. You’d somehow managed to arrive at the village at the source of these stories before him and had an opportunity to literally rob him of this victory.

Granted, you were the only one who’d been attributing him with this win, but that didn’t matter, not to you. The only thing you cared about when accepting this particular contract was the knowledge that by taking it, you were preventing him from having it, and that was more than enough.

The shock on the villagers faces when they saw you accept the contract only added to your already inflated confidence. The sheer size of the griffin’s wingspan humbled you a little, though, and whatever grand illusions of an easy victory you’d carried into the forest were squashed along with a couple rib bones only moments after engaging the beast. In short, you were fucked.

Some might say that coming out of it alive was enough of a win. Those people would be morons, you thought as you stumbled clumsily back towards the lights of the village, clutching your split abdomen with both hands and blinking back blood dripping from your forehead. Every step you took came with the stabbing pain of additional tearing around your wound. You could barely think, your ears were blocked and caked with dried blood and dirt, your tears stung as they fell across the gashes on your cheeks, and every breath in felt like it could be your last. You’d never admit this out loud, but a part of you wished the creature had finished the job.

Perhaps the only saving grace here was that in your condition, you couldn’t hear the villagers as they pointed and gossiped. You didn’t hear the “told you so’s” or the lewd shouts coming from the drunk men as you stumbled into the tavern. You could barely hear the disappointment in the inn owner’s voice as they reprimanded you for accepting a contract, they knew you couldn’t complete. Rolling your eyes, you pushed your way towards the stairs as quickly as possible – which, as it turned out, was not so quick, praying that someone would call you a healer.

“… and to think a witcher arrived only hours after she went off to kill herself! Tsk-tsk!”

You stopped dead in your tracks, drops of blood falling across your brow as you interrupted the momentum you’d been building. “W-what?” you croaked, turning towards them as much as possible to make sure you’d hear them correctly.

“Yeah! And not just any witcher, lass, the Butcher of Blaviken no less! Checked in with us just as you head out. Had you waited half a day you could have saved yourself a world of – ‘ey! Now where’s she off to?”

As you registered this news, something inside you snapped. Before you knew what was happening, you’d made your way upstairs and started pushing your full weight onto every door you passed. The great White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, was certainly arrogant enough to leave his door unlocked. You might have been wrong about the griffin, but you’d be damned if you were wrong about this.

Fortunate or not, you weren’t wrong about this. As you pushed your shoulder against the last door with whatever strength you had left, the door swung open with very little resistance. The heavy wooden door slammed loudly against the wall at the exact moment that your limp body crashed onto the floor.

“WHAT the fuck!” Geralt howled, leaping off the bed and onto his feet. His wild eyes assessed the situation in an instant, and he bound to you in barely two strides. “What the fuck did you do? What happened?” he asked as he flipped you over, so gently you were sure you’d already passed out and were now dreaming. Or maybe the blood loss was finally catching up to you and you were full-on hallucinating.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you breathed, barely above a whisper, before losing consciousness in his arms.

*

Regaining consciousness was a slow, painful process. You’d come in and out of it a handful of times throughout the night, and flashes of what you’d seen before you lost it were coming to you in an almost dreamlike haze; terrifying images of the furious griffin, its blood-soaked talon shining in the setting sun as it reared back to strike you again, and warmer visions of Geralt, shirtless, running towards you with – could it be? – genuine concern in his eyes.

Now as the rising sun cast its glow across the room, you squinted painfully against the light. Your head felt as though it was full of cotton; heavy, and scratchy, and unnatural on top of your shoulders. Hesitantly, you ran your tongue over your teeth and were equal parts relieved to find them all there and disgusted at the acrid, mineral taste the blood left behind. Blinking slowly, you tried to bring up your hand to rub at your eyes, but stopped short as you felt the large bandage draped across your forehead.

Slowly, you started to register the other bandages, on your arms, your cheek, across your abdomen. Your eyes grew wide as you finally registered the man facing away from you in the far corner of the room. Geralt’s broad strong back was hunched away from you as he rifled through herbs and small glass vials looking for something. Inexplicably, you found yourself disappointed to see he’d put his thick black tunic back on. Horrified by that realization, you literally gagged, startling Geralt and pulling his attention squarely onto you.

His big dumb beautiful face was all hard lines as he looked you over, stern eyes flashing to meet yours before dropping back down to the vial in his hands. You couldn’t help be notice the way the muscles in in jaw rippled and tensed as he sighed. He was oozing disappointment and anger, and that infuriated you.

“Am I dead?” you ask, squinting at him a little theatrically as you squirmed and winced in your bed.

“No.” he practically growled, his body tense as he made his way towards you slowly.

“Oh,” you breathed, bringing your eyes up to his before adding, “this isn’t hell?”

To your immense satisfaction, his stern eyes widened into shock, but then something unrecognizable flashed across his features – wait, was he hurt?

“Why, because I’m here?” he shouted, as if in confirmation of your hunch, and slammed the damp cloth he’d been holding back into the basin.

“No, jackass,” you retorted, pleased that despite the position you were in, you still had some semblance of an upper-hand, “because a griffin fucking fileted me like a fish and some poor drunk is probably downstairs slipping in a pool of my blood right now.”

You’d kind of hoped that he’d laugh, or at least have a comeback geared up for you, but Geralt just stood there staring at you, his mouth in a tight line, nostrils flaring.

Uncomfortable by the intensity of his stare and the silence accompanying it, you decide to continue to poke the bear.

“Come on, what’s with the face, Geralt? Pissed I’m still alive? You know you could have just closed the door over my body, let nature finish the bloody job.”

“Fuck, no! Y/n!” he screamed, startling you out of the attitude you’d put on, “I’m pissed because you’re an impossibly difficult woman hellbent on killing herself! I’m pissed because you don’t seem to fucking care about what happens to you! You can’t keep doing this Y/N! Because one of these days you’re going to get hurt and you’ll be too far away from me and I won’t be able to fucking save you, again! I am pissed because I am losing my mind spending every god-awful day wondering if you’ve gone and gotten yourself killed! Fucking hell, woman! If you didn’t find me – I-if I wasn’t here, with these herbs – Damnit Y/N!”

You just sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say. This man, your nemesis, was in front of you pacing back and forth, breathing heavily, looking like a maniac. His nostrils were flaring more than the monster that almost killed you just yesterday. Part of you wanted to correct him and demand he never address you as ‘woman’ again, but his wild earnest eyes kept you quiet. My god… was he crying?

Before you could say anything, Geralt sighed gruffly, ran his large hand over his face and stormed out, mumbling something about needing to get you more water.

Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t stop yourself from spiralling. You’d expected him to be angry – hell, you wanted him to be angry! You’d humiliated yourself twice over, enraging him would ease the blow – but this was… different. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. And what was with his whole speech? He spent every day thinking about you? Worrying about you? There’s no way.

Sure, you thought about him daily, but that was out of spite! You hated the man! Why else would your heart race whenever you thought you spotted him in a crowd? Why else would you actively seek out the most dangerous contracts? What, like you were hoping these contracts would draw him out, and therefore, closer to you? As if!

Your ridiculous inner monologue was interrupted by Geralt’s return. The horrible brute knocked gently on the door before stepping inside, and your heart had the audacity to skip a beat.

Oh, you thought, fuck.

“I need to change the dressing on your wounds,” he grumbled, not meeting your eyes. You nodded wordlessly as he settled onto the chair next to you. You watched him work in silence, praying he would attribute your insane heartrate and flushed skin to a pain response from his work.

“Geralt?” you tried, chewing nervously on your cheek, as was just finished up with the last of your dressing.

“Hm?” he hummed, keeping his eyes cast down as he fussed with the bandage on the gash across your abdomen.

“Thank you… for saving me.”

He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, but said nothing in return. He merely grunted in acknowledgment. You didn’t know why, but his silence in combination with his inscrutable gaze encouraged you to keep talking.

“I honestly only took this contract because I didn’t want you to have it,” you admitted bashfully.

“What the fuck? No one was taking it because they weren’t paying nearly enough! Hell, and you’re just a human,” he fumed, throwing up air-quotes as he said it, “so what – they offered you a third of nothing?”

Laughing lightly, you shoved him with your elbow, “they offered me three whole ducats!”

“Oh, wow,” he laughed, low and rumbling, “so a big pay day for you, eh?”

“Shut up,” you gasped as pain rippled through you with each peal of laughter, “knowing I could screw you over was payment enough!”

“Well congratulations are in order, you did manage to screw someone over,” he chided.

“Me,” you stated dryly, gesturing widely at your busted up body.

“You,” he echoed with a sigh that seemed to deflate him.

He suddenly looked so small, sitting there next to you. You watched him as clenched and unclenched his jaw, rubbing his large hands up and down his thighs – was he anxious? You mind raced as you felt his eyes travel slowly up your body. You held your breath as he worked up the nerve to finally bring his eyes up to yours.

The moment his eyes landed on yours, something shifted. Whatever had been lodged uncomfortably between the two of you all these years had finally clicked into place. This change, albeit small, was palpable. His eyes dropped to your lips and lingered there. He was looking at you like he’d never seen you before. Like he was afraid he might never see you again.

Without speaking, Geralt inched himself closer to you and reached a tender hand to tuck your hair behind your ears before cradling your face.

“You’re not allowed to die, do you hear me?” he whispered, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You gave him a quick nod and brought your hand up to his, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm before giving his hand a quick kiss.

“I need to hear you say it,” he begged, bringing himself even closer to you.

“I do,” you breathed, trying to sit up to bring your face closer to his. “I’m not going to die, not on your watch, but I’m also not quitting.”

“Y/N –”

“No! If I quit, you’d get lazy. Who’d push you? What would be your driving force?”

“Wow,” he scoffed, looking at you incredulously but fondly, “you’re so fucking arrogant.”

“And yet…” you said, quirking a brow flirtatiously as you pulled him closer by the collar.

“… and yet?” he murmured, letting himself be pulled closer to you. His eyes half-closed and his lips slightly parted.

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

And then he kissed you. His mouth claimed yours urgently but his hands were ever gentle, ghosting over your bandages and caressing your skin with a feather-light tenderness that would have brought you to your knees had you not already been bedridden. Any hesitation or doubt melted away under the heat of his touch as all those years of tension sprung apart catastrophically. The knot you had carried in your stomach unfurled into flittering fireflies, their heat traveling up your stomach to your chest as his hands worked their way into your hair.

You didn’t know when they’d fallen, but you let out a shaky laugh as Geralt kissed away the tears on your cheeks, his thumb swiping at the tears his soft lips failed to catch. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against yours; his hands cupping your face as yours captured his.

Gods – this man was going to be the death of you.  

[marvel-m-lee]

Here's a prompt: Camilo was tickled very often by Pepa and Felix but as he grew up he thought it was embarrassing (teenagers... deep down he still liked) so as teen he refused to admit he was even ticklish until his parents decides to give him a sweet tickle attack. sorry about my english :/

Are you t!cklish? No- that's childish-

Words:4472

Fandom: encanto

Summary: *prompt* Camilo thinks being t!cklish is childish and enjoying it it even wirse- his parents show him otherwise though...

Warnings: angst-t!ckling, the tword has also been banned so I censor it now x

A/N: HELLO. I've been sick all day with a headache and this was the only thing keeping me going- I wrote another one like this too but with Mira and Bruno, so hmu if yall wanna see it??

Also this is MUCH longer than expected- like way longer- but I love it so much 🥲

Also your English is great! I don't believe you mare any mistakes in the prompt! <33 hopefully you emjoy this or its at least similar to the idea haha :D

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

It was a normal day in the Encanto, Camilo was going round, making everyone smile, laugh, and teasing his family, winding his siblings and cousins up the wall as per usual.

Everything was great... until just around tea time.

Camilo was the playful cousin. That was it. He was followed up by Mirabel and recently Isabela in his antics, no matter how childish or silly they seem, as long as they made his family and village happy and brought a smile to someone's face, he didn't care. Though there was one thing Camilo tried to stay away from-

T!ckling.

Why you may be asking? Well, when Camilo was younger, he would love the activity; it wouldn't be rare to hear a squealing Camilo somewhere in the house. He would usually go round and cause mischief, earning him the said t!ckles, and go round in that circle. Many of the adults had realized the boy enjoyed the activity so they would find any way to get him, give it a ball left outside or a sock on the floor, they would give the boy any reason to be wrecked into a giggly puddle on the floor.

Camilo would love every bit of it. Then his tio Bruno left... After that, he was still t!ckled sure, but it became rare enough that by the age of 10 and his younger brother Antonio being born, he never received any t!ckles, unless it was from his elder sister or Isabela- even so, it would only be a poke to the side at most.

By the age of 15 though, Camilo still seemed to enjoy the activity. Some days he'd just wake up, craving t!ckles for no exact reason other than waking up! It's like this secret joy taunted him because deep down, he also thought everyone had stopped because it was childish. If they knew he enjoyed it, why would they stop? He could never think of any other reason other than how everyone must have looked down upon him or how it was childish and embarrassing.

So he buried it deep inside him, whenever the activity arose he would always try to stay away or avoid it somehow, and if the dreaded question ever came up he would shrug and say no, then leave, not being able to stand a minute more in case he would be looked down upon again.

He wanted to make people smile. Not think he was a little kid.

It all came tumbling down right before dinner. Camilo was walking to his room after coming back from the town. He'd seen some kids a bit younger than him running around and chasing each other, then tag teaming and t!ckling one of them to the ground. That scene sent Camilo into a whole other mood and he needed to calm down in his room. 

On the way, though, he bumped into his tio Bruno and Mirabel. The two were chatting about something and Camilo was so focused up in his mind that they all walked into each other.

"Woah, hey Camilo!" Mirabel said, smiling at her primo who seemed to be in a weird daze after the bump. 

"h-hey? Hey Mirabel, Hey Tio Bruno" The chameleon didn't make eye contact but he still said hello, trying to not act suspicious or too weird, even though he couldn't help it.

"You okay Camilo?" Bruno asked, realising the boy seemed to be a little out of it. Camilo shook his head, as though trying to rid the thoughts that threatened his mind. 

"hmm? Yeah- no, yeah. You okay Bruno?"

Bruno tilted his head a little, both he and Mirabel sensing something was up but not wanting to upset him further. "Yeah... if anythings wrong, you can talk to us" Bruno explained, smiling a little at his nephew. Mirabel nodded agreeing with Bruno.

Camilo still made no attempt at eye contact, knowing his face would flush the minute he did. He just nodded and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Yep... Thanks Tio, Thanks Prima- can i- Can I just get through please?" Camilo asked, jestering to his room.

Bruno turned around to see where Camilo had pointed, "Oh! yeah! sorry Camilo,  here" Bruno span back around and turned slightly so the boy could walk between Mirabel and he.

"Thahanks- AH" Camilo couldn't help but laugh nervously as he walked through, then feeling a poke at his side from his prima to get a smile on his face. Camilo jumped back and blushed, covering his mouth from the yell he'd given out.

"Uh...? Are you okay Camilo?" Bruno asked, looking at the boy who was horrific looking at a grinning Mirabel. Camilo quickly shook his head between the two, then avoided looking at them all together and tried to compose himself, shaking his head.

"Uh- Yeah! Yeah, Its fine-"

"T!cklish~" Mirabel wiggled some finger at him, making him roll his eyes and try to hide a whine as he began to hate the situation.

"noho- no." Camilo couldn't help the quick response or the nervous giggle within it. 

Bruno looked surprisingly between the two and smiled at his nephew, quickly remembering how when he was younger he would love the activity. "Oh yeah, like when you were younger and loved it! Are you still that t!cklish?" Bruno asked, not meaning to fluster the boy any more than he already was. Camilo looked away once more covering his face with a hand as he pretended to look annoyed- though he secretly was hiding his blushing red face.

"Ugh- No. Im not- its so babish" Camilo groaned. 

"T!cklings not babish! Tio Bruno's 50 and look" Mirabel begin to poke Bruno's sides and he jumped back, giggling and laughing, gently swatting his neices hand.

"Nohoht right nohow Mirahabel!" Mirabel stopped with a smirk but still turned to Camilo.

"It's okay to be t!cklish primo" she encouraged, trying to make the boy feel better, though the whole topic was sending him to hell.

"Y-yeah- I know- obviously it's fine. I'm just not-"

"Not what exactly?" Camilo jumped out of his skin when he saw his mother walking out of her and his father's room, Dolores too surprisingly.

"I- uh- nothing mami" Camilo had accidently made eye contact with his parents, showing his blushing and embarrassed face.

"Camilo's said he isn't t!cklish" Dolores explained, oh how quickly he cursed her gift once more.

"No- well- yeah- I'm not. It's dumb- I just wanna go to my room please?" Camilo stuttered and whined, looking over to his room.

Why was this becoming such a big thing? Why couldn't he just go to his room and calm down? Why did he have to be like this?

"It's not dumb hijo, its perfectly normal" Felix explained, wanting to reassure his teenage son.

"Yeah, anyway Camilo, you used to love it when you were younger" Pepa explained, quickly remembering her son who loved t!ckles.

Camilo grunted, why did they all suddenly care now? Why remember now? He had mixed feelings about the whole ordeal.

"Yeah- and that was like almost a decade ago. I've grown up since then, matured-"

"Pfft" Dolores couldn't hold back her snicker, she walked over and began poking her brothers side, knowing fully well he was still just as t!cklish as he was ten years ago.

"Hehey!" Camilo jumped back, his face blushed as he almost bumped into Bruno again.

"L-leave off- I'm not t!cklish!" Camilo slightly yelled, feeling embarrassed- yet something within him seemed happy? Excited almost?

"You're not t!cklish?" Pepa asked, raising an eyebrow at her son as Dolores let off with a sweet smile, knowing exactly what would go down now.

Camilo was a mischievous kid. He was cheeky, playful, dramatic; and where did he get this? His parents.

Pepa and Felix were both pretty playful people, even when they were younger they would be the out going ones! It wasn't a surprise one of their kids would take their playful and teasing traits.

Camilo trued to hold back his nervous giggles and blushing face, groaning at the whole situation.

When he was younger, his parents were ruthless. He loved it, but right now he just wanted to yell or hide or anything so he didn't have to feel so trapped and flustered. It was so dumb. He hated how he wanted to run, yet also hated how his mind seemed to slowly be travelling to cloud 9. Why why why!?

"Camilo, you used to love being t!ckled! What changed?" Felix asked, slightly teasing the boy as he wiggled a finger at him. Camilo ran a hand through his hair and groaned, trying to seem confident but failing as his voice cracked.

"N-nothing- I grew up and now I just- I just wanna get to my room! So please, please move?" Oh yes. Very confident. Zero eye contact, voice breaking, asking rather than demanding, MANNERS.

"Nothing changed?" Bruno asked, rather blunt as he smiled at his nephew.

Camilo span around, surprisingly close to his uncle as Dplores had made him almost fall onto him previously.

"What?! I- no- I- oh come on! I'm 15, this is so childish and stupid-"

"Camilo, are you embarrassed by t!ckling?" Bruno asked, interrupting his rambling and luckily making him stop before he blurted something he didn't want to.

Camilo stopped and his blush grew by 50%, unable to speak for a second.

"I'm not t!cklish, so why would I?" He asked, a little defensively. Honesty, no one knew who he was trying to convince, everyone had already seen his giggles at a few pokes, his blushing face was a grand tell too.

"Oh really?" Pepa asked, mischief in her voice as she smirked at her son.

"Mami-" Camilo watched as she stepped forward a little, making him step back and walk into Bruno who just held him lightly, feeling as he shook from bubbled up giggles in his throat and butterflies in his tummy.

"Felix, I think we should test this. If Camilo's telling the truth, he wouldn't mind right?" Pepa asked her husband, hand on her hip with a mischievous smile. Her husband had the exact sane look on his face, then turned to Camilo.

"Yeah, surely he shouldn't lie to us?"

Camilo squeaked very quietly, only Bruno and Delores being able to hear it. The two let out little giggles and a chuckle as Camilo was almost frozen. Bruno wasn't holding him tight, just hands on his arms so he had a chance to escape.

Camilo's body wouldn't move though. His mind raced and raced with thoughts about how dumb it was and how he needed to escape, but he also wanted it- it had been so long and maybe it was okay? He was childish all the time right? But then again, this is something he shouldn't enjoy, he should be embarrassed right?

Wrong.

Pepa teasingly wiggled her fingers at her son and smirked as she crouched forwards a little towards her son.

"Wahait- mami-" camilo couldn't help the tiny giggles that slipped through his mouth, hands up slightly as he tried to look away and hide his blushing face but couldn't.

"T!ckle t!ckle Camilo~" Mirabel teased from the sidelines, now standing with Dolores as the two watched the scene unfold.

Camilo grunted at his cousin but yelped as hands attatched themselves to his sides and belly, beginning to t!ckle around his belly button and sides.

"WAiAhait! Wahait mAmI!" Camilo jumped backwards into Bruno who just kept camilo there, lightly holding him as he fell backwards into him. Pepa had began to attack his torso, poking and spidering, or just casual t!ckle squeezing his sides.

Felix smirked, hands on his hips as he watched the scene, "Camilo? What's wrong? T!cklish?" He teased, unable to hide the shit eating grin on his face.

"Nohoho! NO NO-" Camilo hadn't even seen where his dad had walked up and began to help his wife, both taking a side each as each of their ten digits danced around a side each, sending Camilo into hystericals.

"EEE PfFt pLEASE-" Camilo couldn't seem to say stop, just laughing himself silly. It had been years since someone had done this to him, and he wasn't complaining anymore, though he kept up his little "I'm not t!cklish" act.

Camilo didn't even try to stop them yet, just hugging himself above their hands and laughing with blush filling his whole face. Freely letting them do as they pleased.

"Aw, Amor are you t!cklish?" Pepa awed, continuing to t!ckle her son and take a hand to the side of his neck. This made adorable giggles spill from his mouth, hunching up his shoulders to make it stop.

He couldn't handle it all, his mind splitting a couple times. This wasn't even half of what they used to do to wreck him, yet he was already squeezing his eyes shut and hugging himself.

It isn't possible to get more t!cklish is it?

"Nahaha ehehehe mami mami- papi-" Felix slowed down for a second to appreciate their sons adorable, child-like giggles, but said giggles only empowered his mum to continue her assault, moving around to the back of his neck to make him squeal slightly.

"Camilo, what's wrong? You're wiggling around so much!" Felix joined in again, attacking one of the boys hips and continuing his assault on his belly.

This really made a movement for Camilo, he doubled over, now covering his torso and hiding his neck, lifting up a arm where Pepa had stopped t!ckling his side to rub the neck t!ckles away.

T!ckling did something to your mind, because obviously this was a terrible mistake.

Bruno wrapped his arms around Camilo's torso, trying to keep him from falling over but accidentally making the boy laugh harder as he expected more t!ckles from the movement.

Camilo almost fell to the ground again when his papa attacked his ribcage, skittering his fingers all over one side. Camilo try to lean away but never tried to actually escape, emjoying the moment with his parents.

"EEE PFF WAHAHIT wAhAhHHaIt!" Camilo laugh was now his casual belly laughter, laughing as his dad wrecked his ribcage and squeezing his eyes shut even tighter.

"DAD- PAPI-" Camilo couldn't talk yet, letting his laughter light up the area.

"Yeah Camilo?" His dad answered, as though nothing was going on and began to squeeze the back of Camilo's ribs, causing him to jolt up and open himself up, trying to protect himself, though it was very difficult as his mother decided to play music on his ribcage.

"Felix, look! This one makes music" Pepa teased, treating her son as a toddler again, teasing him abd pretending. She began to poke different ribs and "play music" as she called it. Felix deciding to wreck his side abd ribs once more.

"OkAY OKAY! You WIHIHIN!" Camilo began to fight back mow, very lightly of course, holding his parents  wrists with a hand each.

The two stopped instantly, giving their son some breathing and regain a little sanity; but they weren't done yet. They only stopped to look at each other as they realised the position they were in.

"Camilo, I think your t!cklish-" Bruno slightly whispered, well, he tried too, but was rather loud making everyone laugh and Camilo cringe.

"No no, our test isn't complete yet" Felix teased, smirking at his wife. Camilo looked up at the two with horror in his eyes, well- joy- but still. He couldn't believe they weren't done?! Not that a part of him wanted them to be.

"Waiaiahat- nohoho-" Camilo couldn't hold back his giggling, where else were they gonna go? How badly were they gonna wreck him? Sure so far they hadn't killed him, but he surrendered?- Well not really but still! 

The two quickly shot their hands into the boys armpits, making him jump and almost knock over Bruno. He squealed and slammed his arms down, shaking his head as a smile quickly carved its way onto his mouth.

"Told you he was t!cklish" Dolores smirked from a far wotb Mirabel, watching as he threw his head back and squeaked, kicking out beneath him.

"SHUHUT UPPP DOLOREHEJES" Camilo swapped between light giggling and loud hearty laughter, desperately trying to escape now but unable to because his mind just faded with an escape plan, just standing there and taking it as he was above cloud 9, a smile on his face as he tried to do anything and everything.

The boy would throw his head back, kick out his legs- though just tio was pretty strong- try to scrunch up, he even did that tiny nose scrunch to hide his face. At one point he had his arms down and forearms up, trying to hide his face as giggles slipped through his hands. His sides would try to swivel and swerve but no matter what he could still feal the t!ckling fingers under his arms.

One hand each up his armpits, each parent had another hand left, both going for rather hellish spots to wreck their boy's mind. Pepa would t!ckle the top of Camilo's belly, very gently of course, making giggles spill from his mouth, whilst Felix decided to go for a kill and use his other hand to roughly squeeze the boys hips, making him jump and yell, almost kicking him somehow.

Camilo's brain was completely I'm fractures at this point. He couldn't handle all the different t!ckling in all the different places, making him want to scream, laugh, giggle, yet his mind wouldn't tell them apart so he just died in each. Tears began to spill from his eyes now, doubling over with laughter as he let the t!ckles take over.

There was only one thing Camilo knew for certain. He wanted this. He loved it.

"Camiloooo~" Camilo heard his name, yet the t!ckling didn't crease, "Camilo are you t!cklish?" Camilo couldn't answer, nor wanted too, only shaking his head. Though everyone else thought this wad him indicating a "no".

"Wow? He's still keeping up with the act?" Bruno and Dolores questioned, surprised at it.

"It's because hes secretly loving it" Mirabel joked, wanting to see how far he would go.

"So you're not t!cklish?" Pepa asked, continuing to wreck his armpit and belly.

Camilo began to giggle as he focused on the gentle belly tickles, but squealed when his father squeezed his hip again.

"PLEHAHESSESASEEE" Camilo tried to beg, he needed it to stop, but wanted it to continue. It seemed that was no secret to anyone.

Camilo fell to his knees in an instant, Bruno letting him gently fall rather than collapse. The boy couldn't hold up much longer and continued to squeal and laugh.

"Oh come on hijo, you used to be able to take this for way longer!" Felix teased, moving to gently t!ckle the boys neck.

"THAHAHAT WAS TEHEHEN YEARS AGOOOHOHO Nooooohoho" Camilo really couldn't stand the neck t!ckles, wiggling his head around more.

"Aw, you're adorable Camilo!" Pepa awed,watching as her son erupted into child-like giggles once more, almost hiccuping with sweet laughter.

Camilo was sitting on his knees now, his parents and tio doing the same, he was surrounded by t!ckles and giggles, laughter filling the air.

"Last time Camilo; Are you t!cklish?" His mum asked, trying to sound as though this was a very important issue that they would have to fix.

"MaHAHAmI! StAhAHaP aSKinHihing!" Camilo begged, emjoying the moment but knowing whatever answer he gave would choose his fate.

"Fine mi Amor, but don't blame me for what happens next!" His parents nodded at Bruno who let the kid go, his parents t!ckling him to the ground as Pepa sat on his waist and Felix held up his arms.

They let the t!ckling stopped for a moment, giving their son a breather and a little bit of his sanity back.

Camilo whined with giggles as he let his head fall back, not even realising the position just yet. He had blush all over his face, a smile, and his hair a mess everywhere on the ground and around around his face.

But the boys smile faded as he kept his eyes closed, realising what had happened, what might happen, he couldn't stop the thoughts that convinced him he was weak and childish.

"Mahami- papi- plehease... this is so dumb and embarrassing" He whined, apparently not learning his lesson just yet...

"You're a child Camilo" Pepa sighed with a smile, "everyone's t!cklish, and if you enjoy it, don't be embarrassed" Felix bumped in, smiling at his son.

Camilo needed to be told that, parts of him still not believing it, but he still needed to hear it.

"Anyway, I'm hungry" Pepa teased, looking down at her sons belly and picking up her hands into claws above him.

Quickly Camilo realised the situation and watched as horror, looking to his sister, cousin and uncle for help, but each had a smile or smirk on their face as they waited for the show.

"Mami- mami wahait- we can talk about this? Dinner will be ready soon-" Pepa only shook her head as Camilo began to beg, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

"No no, your belly looks much nicer, and I'm hungry now. You don't mind do you? Seeing as you're not t!cklish?" Pepa teased, going in for the gold as she gently began to lift up his shirt and ruana. Camilo had already started giggling at the air and fabric that glided over his skin.

He looked to his father for support but he had the same shit eating grin, holding the boys arms above his head as he held a hand over the boys death spot, giving his armpit a gentle poke that made him dissolve into laughter.

"Mi vida, do you think he got more t!cklish?!" Felix teased, looking up to his wife as their son continued to laugh beneath them, only having a poke.

Pepa shook her head, "no, no, he can't be, he's not t!cklish!" She teased, poking her sons belly a little, making him wiggle.

"Pleheheaseee"

"Ohhh, yeah- you're right!" Felix teased, t!ckling their sons neck making him hunch up.

"Guhuhuys!"

"Anyway, I'm hungry!"

"Mahami! mahHAMII AH NOHOHO NO NO MAMIIIIIIII" Camilo screamed as his mother quickly pounced, clawing his sides and squeezing as she took a big breath, then blew a massive raspberry on her sons tummy.

"MAMI- NOHO NO YOU WIN YOU WIN PLEASEEE" Camilo lifted his back and flopped around as he yelled, screaming laughter filled the room as his dad stuck his fingers into his armpits and began to t!ckle him silly.

"PAPI- MAMI NO- WAHAIT WAITHHFDKAGAHSHAT" Camilo's words quickly mixed in with his laughter as he was free to thrash around as he was tortured. He squealed and screamed, closing his eyes tightly as tears prickled.

His mother blew another rasberry, gripping his hips and squeezing, turning his laughter silent, his dad swapped hands and he quickly began to twist and trash more.

This continued for what felt like hours. Camilo finally gave up on fighting back, limping and occasionally lifting his back as his mum would blow another rasberry.

He threw his head back, hair everywhere and blush grown way past his ears and down his neck, his smile plastered onto his face and threatened to stick forever as the wonder continued.

Pepa landed a few light kisses on her sons tummy, gently fluttering her fingers over his sides as Felix stopped and t!ckles his neck. Camilo was so done, so worn out, he just sat back as his giggles spilled from his mouth.

"Aw- that was adorable-" Mirabel stated, awing at her primo. Dolores agreed with a smile, Bruno too. Then Julieta called everyone fir dinner, the three left and explained the others might be a couple more minutes.

Felix and Pepa both let off, helping their son sit up with them. Pepa sat on her knees and Felix on a knee, Camilo was still silly with giggles and sat up with a light head. Camilo couldn't hide his happiness, both his parents awing at his adorableness. Felixed ruffled the boys hair with a proud smile.

"See, not so childish or bad is it?"

Camilo didn't answer, though his giggles did fade.

"I mean- I never said it was bad but-"

"Ah, so you do still enjoy it?" Pepa teased, smiling at her eldest son.

Camilo blushed and grunted, not necessarily agreeing but he didn't disagree.

"Why are you so embarrassed about it?" Felix asked, putting a reassuring hand on his sons shoulder.

Camilo was silent for a second but let out a sigh, he was still a little loopy from all the t!ckles so he couldn't think properly and just started talking.

Camilo explained that they knew he liked it when he was younger, but they had stopped after Bruno disappeared and never really did anything again, and after Antonio was born they would never t!ckle him and so he assumed it was something to be ashamed of or that it was only for children so he shouldn't enjoy it. Normally he would be able to shape shift to get rid of something he couldn't cope with, be someone else. But he couldn't with his mind, so he hated that he liked it and and-

He didn't finish though, broken by his parents who both leant in and took their boy in for a hug.

"We're so sorry Camilo" Pepa never wanted to do that, Felix neither. They explained it was okay to enjoy tickling, that it was okay if it was childish, many people young or old still enjoyed it.

The reason they hasn't done it was because they had been under so much stress and after Bruno left, it was just strange because he also used to like it and it reminded Pepa of him.

"We promise to t!ckle you more often" Camilo cringed and blushed at that, though they were trying to be sincere and helped him up.

"Ohokay- that- er- let's just drop it for now" Camilo laughed nervously, cringing at the promise. Felix poked the boys side, sending him jumping through the air.

"Never dropping this" he said, teasing his son yet again.

"Yeah, we should show everyone at dinner how t!cklish you are" Pepa teased, nudging her son.

Camilo put his hands up and blushed, a nervous smile on his face. "NO! Noho- no I'm okay- let's just go-"

Camilo received many more t!ckles after that.

[xgoldxnhour]

A perpetual tint of pinks and reds paint the shop owner’s cheeks each time Officer Walsh flickers to mind. Hardly a day of productivity when her mind is filled with images and scenes of that morning and the others that continue as days pass. The highlight of her day that feels as though it grows shorter each time. Though unknown to her knowledge. The feat is actually the opposite as Shane is too finding each and every way to halt and linger—prolonging their daily routine.

One evening, she closes up early and heads over to the house that feels somehow both separated and akin to home nowadays. A bag of take out in her hand, El lets herself in through the screen door and straight to the kitchen. The tip taps of nails dance across the floor, staggered and slow as if carried by something far wider beyond its years. Dropping whatever she was doing, El crouches down to welcome the old mutt—a cross between a black lab and a Doberman—with loving scratches. “Hey…Russ.” She kisses the dog’s head and sits there right on the floor. They’d rescued it after the devastation of their childhood’s dogs passing, Beans, as teenagers. Both her and her brother got to name it but could never agree on just one so it came down to Russell Blue. Must be nearly thirteen years old now—keeping her father company when she isn’t around.

“Where’s Percy, huh? Where’s Percy?” Percy is her mother’s cat—or was before she passed when the twins were 17. Roan nearly threw the thing out on a bender but somewhere in its 9 lives and no lick of sense, it kept coming back. Now they’re merely civil housemates or perhaps more so neighbors as Percy spends most nights on the porch or the garage. Just a little older than RB but still has a number of years to go.

After the food is ‘ready’ aka taken out of the styrofoam containers, onto a plate and left in the microwave until her father returns—most likely busying in the garage on the car that never starts. El spends the rest of the time cleaning up until he returns. You can hear his steps, low and centered, before the door swings shut.

They have a quiet dinner at first until he finally asks what’s new. El meanders about her leaky roof that can’t seem to hold enough caulk and how business is doing just fine at the shop minus a broken grinder. She almost doesn’t mention the new regular that’s caught her eye, but he can see the look before her mouth opens—a mouthful reply of ‘who’s the guy’. El is vague as mentioning the law doesn’t do much good in either male le Roux’s presence. But she talks about Shane—brown eyes and an award winning smile. Though she also mentions that nothing will probably come from it as he’s just a kind regular and she’s far too busy to delve into any sort of dating life. It’s perhaps a nicer phrasing of no guy wants to get to know the daughter of an alcoholic who spends many nights making sure her father doesn’t fall asleep face down in a bowl of chili. There’s no disdain in her tone nor her thoughts as she merely shrugs. Just life.

Thankfully the remainder of dinner continues with bits of laughter and the calming veil of nostalgia. They talk about the car, which somehow turns into dirt bikes and how the twins would sneak off in the middle of the night to race. Two dozen other people, mostly way too old for the twins to be spending late nights with, some cases of beer and music as they placed their bets. Illegally obviously. And the twins were pretty good all things considering and took home a few hundred here and there to save up for a rainy day. All fun and games until her someone clipped El’s tire at a turn and she went flying. A concussion, a broken wrist and bruised ribs later, the parents were all too happy at the call from the emergency room. That rainy day savings went straight to medical bills. El shakes her head at the reminiscing of old, reckless days. She can’t even blame Jesse much back then as a lot of it was her idea.

The night ends with a few beers before heading on home to what she assumes as a surprisingly uneventful evening as she hopes the trips to memory lane would have helped somehow. Unfortunately not—as a few hours later, El gets a call that her father was found trying to hop the fence into the old stadium. Nearly spraining his ankle on the way down. Perhaps memory lane was a bit more treacherous this time around.

She gets back in bed at five in the morning with little to no sleep. Though all that comes to mind are those brown eyes and wicked smile. And boy are they a sight the next morning.

A couple of officers apparently went to check on him the morning after and El couldn’t help but wonder if Shane was amongst one of them. Maybe by now, he’s gone through the papers and records and has seen her name as emergency contact connected to the same last name as Roan and Jesse.

She starts off in the back, working on a new experimental batch as time trods and skips. Handful of flour and three coffees later, her head turns everytime the bell rings and finally, the face she’s been waiting for enters.

“I have to say, you are a sight for sore eyes this morning, Officer Walsh. And…the grinder is unsalvageable I’m afraid. Called for two repair guys and I don’t know. It’s in my office for now as I’m afraid it’ll try to kill the new one.” She laughs and is already grabbing their largest cup and starting on the brew. “Oh, Shane. I’ve been dying for you to try something for me. You’re not allergic to nuts are you ‘cause—well, that would be bad. What are you allergic to—actually? I should…I should figure that out before I send you to the ER.” She’s a bit jittery this morning from the caffeine but a light nonetheless. Handing him the coffee, she hurries back into the kitchen. And when she returns—she’s beaming, holding out a parchment bag with a hidden pastry inside. “It’s, uh, a cinnamon roll with walnuts inside and lemon icing on top. Been trying it out all week and I finally think I got it right. But—can’t know, ‘til you try it.” And the moment he tries to pay for the order, she’ll decline as it’s on the house this morning.

xgoldxnhour

The rush eased about an hour ago with only a number of regulars sprinkled at a table or bar stool, paying little mind to the doting barista batting eyes at the first uniform that walked through the door. Perhaps there’s a bit of irony there as she knows many who’d known her for most of her life, Jesse included, would think the sight like pigs flying. Once upon a time, she was a bit of punk herself—not necessarily getting in trouble like her brother—but hanging in places she shouldn’t be since there wasn’t much else to do in this town.

But as most phases, they turn and change—life goes on and people grow up. At least most usually do. Besides there wasn’t much else she’d rather be doing than talking to the locals and coming in every morning—making coffee and conversation. Helluva life if you ask her.

El waited eagerly for a reaction at his first taste as if it was some sort of first prize ribbon at the Kings County Fair. As if at this very moment, she wished to know his opinion—something also quite ironic for the type of girl who doesn’t take too much mind on what people think about her. Suppose comes with the territory and the le Roux monicker. A brand of troublesomes and alcoholics. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Someone had to put a stop to it somewhere—or at least attempt to.

Though that’s the thing about this town. Lots of talk and whispers behind closed doors without much investigating. Yes, her family is rather known for what some might classify as trouble but all in all, harmless. Often times, the red and blue lights can be seen from her window with her passed out father in the backseat. Roudy at times, Roan always made the rule and enforced under his roof to never get behind the wheel intoxicated. So, someone will drop him off at home or her place if they know better, and she’ll drive him to pick his car up in the morning. Honestly, it’s become almost a weekly excursion. And besides, if it weren’t for them, who else would this fucking town be talking about. Hoodlum brothers with wasted potential and drunkard fathers and daughters that look and act too much like their mothers that are no longer around. All El sees is people in pain claiming their own anesthetic. Unfortunately, the waiting game gets awful lonely most times.

Though she don’t have much time for that sort of thinking nowadays. Again—that’s the thing about this time. A lot of people talk—not much listening around here.

“Oh yeah? Suppose it’s nicer to get a call about nothing than something, I suppose.” False alarms and cats stuck in a tree by far beat accidents and assaults any day, El assumed. “Not too much trouble around here though. Business is good for a rush, but gets quiet once in awhile. Especially when it’s just me up here. But—if I ever need the look out, you’ll be the first I call for.” There was a raise in her chin, a common movement dripping in charm.

She took the bill with a thankful nod, closing it inside the register as her hands bury in the apron pocket. And for a second, there’s almost a blush. Almost as she scolded herself before cheeks could darken like petals and cherries.

“No, thank you. And I will. Don’t go looking for too much trouble out there, Deputy Walsh. Come ‘round anytime, alright? You know where t’find me.”

Steaming cup in hand, even when the deputy took his seat at one of the empty tables, gave Rick his share of their cookies, brown eyes could not keep their gaze off of Eloise, the kindhearted barista. Glancing between her and the coffee that he drank from, occasionally, the window facing the outside, Shane would be no fool that morning. Black and without sugar or cream - an earthy blend - the coffee was just as delicious as it looked. Perfect for awakening the body after a tough night of sleep. A burst of pep that would prove beneficial for the busy day, no bad guy of any sort would be free from Shane and his determination. Criminals locked away and cuffed for the crimes they played; Rick was not blind to how the other officer always found his attention favored upon Eloise. Chewing along the outside of his cookie, one of the two, crumbs gathered at the corners of his smirking mouth, a voice that was smothered in tease: somethin’ got your eye, man?

But still was she on Shane’s mind. Once a cookie and coffee were both gone from his hands, a cup and generously used napkin tossed into the trash bin, when the sounds of sirens and alarms filled his ears and chases were on. Ocean colored oculus and hair of spun gold; Eloise was never far from his thoughts. A beautiful girl, sure, but obviously something more beneath the surface, it had been long since Shane felt such a way. Not in so many years had another person been able to take over his every sense. Cognizance cluttered with the memory of her smile, her skill to make a pleasant breakfast drink was not the only cause for the deputy’s observance in the line of duty to be somewhat faulty. It was almost shameful in how clumsy the whole affair was. A stutter when a certain piece of scum was enchained and read her rights, a near trip onto the sidewalk when an elderly man needed assistance to cross the street. For Shane, it was like high school all over. 

His heart was aflame. Butterflies in the belly fluttering, all the best humor for Deputy Grimes was found in how his longtime friend struggled to get through their shift. With pink brushed all across his cheeks and neck. A childhood like crush - laughter lines by those famous blues and a grin so wide - so unlike Shane. Had it been just then, the jokes and the jabs would’ve been gone within the next week. Days that would certainly come to pass, a distant memory of something that happened decades ago. But that would not be so. Never to be tucked safe within the walls of his dreams, Eloise’s face was seen, too, when daylight would break. Every morning before Shane’s shift, as if on cue and part of his daily routine. Always the same - one coffee and one treat. Sometimes a cookie, sometimes not, whatever was freshly baked and the easiest to retrieve. Whatever would keep the attentive barista within his sights for longer; with every new encounter, it seemed that their conversations would become ever more engrossing. 

Shane couldn’t get enough. Perhaps put himself into such a situation on purpose, more often than not without Rick by his side, a partner waiting patiently in the patrol car, he couldn’t start his day without a visit to The Brewed Awakening. It was a habit most unusual but sane. A little eccentric, even for a police officer who enjoyed a well made black coffee, not the worst method for flirtation and devoted interest. Shane had heard and done worse within his lifetime. Made embarrassing mistakes - horrors that were hoped to be forgotten about - represented the role of an awkward suitor flawlessly. Not all chances that were taken found sudden success. Perhaps such a fate would find itself in the game he played with Eloise, a disappointing close to their positive interaction. But still would the deputy hold onto optimism. That cheerfulness that greeted him every time he stepped through the front doors, the ring of the bell that signaled his entrance, a warm brew so near. Friendship was not a pathetic culmination. 

Strutting through the pull-out doors, just as he did every morning, indigo baseball cap with the patch of police on top of his head, Shane veered for the counter. Frowned at first, for the server who worked was plainly not Eloise, softened his features once he actually spotted her, her hands slightly covered in baking flour. More than any other time before, Shane needed a cup of her best. A stressful couple of hours to come, indeed, a Roan le Roux was ordered to have a welfare check. According to commanding officers back at the Department, he had been picked up every day for the past several weeks, the weekends the worst. Not too drunk as to cause an issue among the town - the man was surprisingly wise despite his constant condition - drunk enough as to be a concern for the officers who regularly took him home. It was to be a simple checkup. A quick inspection to make sure all was good and well, Shane thereafter back onto the road with Rick, scrutinizing the streets for more dangerous individuals. 

“Morning, Miss Eloise!” He beamed, face practically radiating with gaiety. “I’ll take another one of your black roasts, please. Nothin’ added. I could use the biggest size you offer. I have a feelin’ it’s gonna be a long day today. Why don’t you give me whatever baked good you got goin’ on, too. I’ll take just one, if you don’t mind. Officer Rick, he ain’t so hungry today. Hey, how’d that broken grinder come along? You able to fix it or what?”

[devildomimagines]

Could you do the brothers (Lucifer especially) reacting to an MC who jokes all the time, seems carefree and stupid but eventually they find out that MC is actually a very deeply caring, responsible and intelligent person. They act like an idiot likely as a response to some adversity in their own past. Sorry if its complicated, i just like the idea of the brothers almost discounting MC only to realise they weren't looking deeply enough

Hi Anon! Thanks for the request! Sorry it took me so long to get to, it's been busy in my personal life. The older brothers are under the cut so this post isn’t a mile long lol. I hope this is worth the wait!

Belphegor

King of rolling his eyes at your antics.

Belphie is maybe the most knowledgeable about humans so, of anyone, he might be able to see a little deeper than the surface.

On one of the rare occasions you got Belphie out of the house, you two came across a Little D that was clearly lost.

He didn’t pay it any mind since he figured the Little D would just teleport to their master but you insisted on helping.

As you knelt down to the creature Belphie stood back and watched as you quickly soothed the Little D’s worries and it hopped into your arms. 

You brushed past Belphie to carry the spirit across the street and start talking to the shop owner. The two of you laughed and Little D hopped over to the shop owner’s hands.

“The shop keeper knows that Little D’s master and will give them a call,” you explained as you wrapped your arm around his and began leading him down the road.

“You’re amazing MC,” Belphie murmured, such a small act really changed his view of you.

Where he thought you were foolish in trusting him after what happened in the attic, he realized that he wasn’t a special case of forgiveness, you were just a truly caring person. 

“Hm, what was that Belphie?” You asked but he wasn’t sure if you actually didn’t hear him or if you were teasing.

He wasn’t too proud to admit his feelings but his face did heat up a bit, “I said you’re amazing.”

Beelzebub

He’s pretty caring for a demon so he could see you were too, although maybe he didn’t know the depth until today.

The two of you were enjoying a meal in Hell’s Kitchen. Beel was absorbed in the food that he didn’t at first notice you were distracted.

When you asked for a moment and got up to grab the attention of a waiter. Beel watched on curiously, he was hoping you were asking for more food.

The waiter nodded along and ducked into the kitchen. You waited in that spot and you caught Beel’s stare. You waved at him with a smile.

He waved back with a fried shadow bat in hand.

You laughed and then the waiter was back. They handed you a to-go container, you talked for a second, probably thanking them and then made your way across the restaurant, walking right past your table.

Beel thought to call out to you as if you had somehow accidentally overshot the table but you made your way right out the door.

He started to get up to go after you, he shoveled a few things in his mouth not totally satisfied but more confused why you were leaving.

Then he saw you through the window. He stopped moving as you approached a small demon looking into the restaurant through the window. Beel sat and watched the scene unfold.

It jumped back away from you, probably not having seen a human before, and was clearly defensive as you talked. You then offered the to-go container, popping it open so the demon could see the food contained.

The little demon inched closer, clearly hungry and tempted by the food you offered. You nodded and the demon took the container and ran. You watched for a second and then came back into the restaurant to join Beel.

You sat down like nothing had happened and went back to your meal. When Beel didn’t start eating you asked,  “What is it? Do I have something on my face!?”

He shook his head no, “You’re incredible.” He picked back up eating but he would not forget this moment.

Asmodeus

You watched on as Asmo was applying his make-up. He always enjoys your company when preparing for the day but he noted you were reading the ingredients pretty seriously.

“What’s got you frowning MC?” 

“This is from the human realm, right?” you held up the bottle so he could see the label in the mirror.

He hummed, “That’s right, I get products from all over so that one is definitely from the human realm. Have you used it before?”

“Um, no I tended to stay away from their brand.” You put the bottle back where you found it.

“Why’s that? It is kind of expensive in Grimm, was it the same in your currency?”

“Not really, it’s just that…” you paused trying to think of the most sensitive way to put it, “there are make-up brands in the human realm that test their products on animals before marketing it to humans.”

“How cute!” Asmo giggled at the thought of bunnies in blush.

“No Asmo, it’s more like they are testing if their products are safe for humans by using animals as a proxy. It can be brutal and even unnecessary and could result in the animal’s death.”

Asmo had stopped and turned to look at you as you explained. His face was slightly troubled.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! I just tried to use products that didn’t use that as a part of their process in manufacturing so as to not cause any unnecessary distress.”

He nodded understanding your thought process. The Devildom didn’t have such markers since suffering was the norm.

The fact that you were thinking about what products you used and their impact on others, even just some animals, had him reassessing you.

It was more thoughtful than he originally credited you. When you and him were joking around and gossiping, he figured your interests were more superficial.

It was refreshing that not only could you keep up with the most recent hot news around town but you truly cared and respected your impact on others.

“Asmo?” You asked, he had been quiet for a while lost in thought.

“It’s nothing!” He recovered but he kept peeking back at you with a mysterious smile.

Satan

The two of you were studying in the RAD library.

There was a particularly tough exam coming up, notorious for dropping the GPA of 75% off the class.

Satan was confident in his abilities but he agreed to come study for your sake. He didn’t have access to know your grade like Lucifer did but he assumed you were struggling by your pleas for his help and deprecating jokes about failing.

He watched as you diligently took out your books and notebook. You flipped through a few of your notes and then shifted your focus to your textbook. Satan shrugged as he opened his own books, you seemed to be off to a fine start.

After about an hour you asked, “Can we quiz each other?”

He agreed and flipped to the end of the chapter he was on for the review questions. Satan took a question and asked it in a slightly different way so you couldn’t rely on memorized answers. 

To his surprise you answered correctly and made up a question for him that he thought was actually pretty difficult. 

Of course he got it right but shrugged it off as a fluke that you didn’t mean to ask such a hard question. The next one he asked you was harder, not from the textbook in any way, it was something that the teacher had mentioned offhand in class.

You got it correct again. With your turn next, you asked another complex question.

Satan answered properly but was now on the edge of his seat, surely twice in a row was not a coincidence.

His next question, he matched your difficulty. You thought for a few minutes and dived into explanation with examples and even a source that you quoted off the top of your head. Your answer was insightful and succinct.

You were waiting for Satan’s assessment of your answer but he sat unmoving.

“Was I mistaken?” You asked, and started frantically looking through your notes.

While you reviewed your materials, Satan was seeing you in a new light. He figured you got along so well with Mammon because the two of you could joke and slack off with the best of them. He thought that you and Asmo got along more as a pair of airheads. But here you were, in this moment your intelligence came off as easy and effortless.

“No, you were right.”

“Really?” you looked up surprised but happy.

He smiled back, but wondered, “What is your current grade in this class, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Last I checked, like 96?”

Satan laughed and shook his head, unbelievable that he thought otherwise.

Leviathan

He already thought of himself as a charity case. The fact that you would be willing to sacrifice your time to be with him was a miracle in his eyes.

No matter how many times you told him you wanted to hang out with him, it wasn’t a sacrifice, he still didn’t believe you.

When he gets more comfortable around you, he let’s you see his uglier sides when the envy consumes him.

You were a safe space he could vent to and you took that responsibility seriously. You listened and he felt the things he shared never left his room when you left.

It was after one of those vent/gaming sessions that you had to excuse yourself.

You had never gotten up in the middle like that and it scared Levi, had he gone too far? Did you actually hate him?

He watched silently as you left the room. Once the door closed, he was on his feet, what was so important? He decided to follow you.

Levi followed about a hallway behind you, as you turned a corner he would sprint to the corner to watch where you go next.

He followed all the way to the kitchen? He didn’t want to peek in fear of being caught but he listened as you greeted Beel.

Beel asked what’s up and you answered you were getting snacks for an intense gaming night with Levi. Beel must have perked up with the snacks you grabbed and you shooed him off, “If Levi’s up for it, you can join us but you can’t have that snack, I made it for a special occasion.”

Special… special? Levi couldn’t wrap his head around it when he thought of himself but the silence in the kitchen meant you must be leaving… meaning you were heading right for the door he was cupping!

He turned around and found a hiding spot on the other side of the hall behind a vase.

The door swung open as he held his breath. You started the way you came. You were heading for his room and he wasn’t there!

Cue montage of Levi comically running through the halls of HOL to get to his room before. He jumps into his gaming chair seconds before you open his door quietly.

He was panting and sweaty when he turned towards you with a smile, totally failing to act natural.

“Sorry I got up so abruptly but I just remembered I made you this!” You presented a cupcake exactly replicated from the anime the two of you watched last week.

Levi’s heart melted, he felt bad that he had second guessed you. He reached out for the cupcake with one hand and with the other he took your hand to pull you to the bean bags. He was blushing but still said, “Let’s put on that anime while I eat it.”

The level of detail that you had gotten correct showed how dedicated you had been to paying attention to his interests and how much you cared for him in turn. He was also impressed with your baking knowledge, it takes a decent level of skill to be able to replicate something just from seeing it.

The scene was coming up where the protag was going to give the cupcake and Levi was struck with the most embarrassing thought. But if anyone would indulge him, it was you.

As the protag took the cupcake, Levi copied their posture. Then he copied their words in unison they both said, “Thank you, no one has ever made me anything like this before.” The two of them ripped the cupcake in half in the same spot and he extended the half to you as he protag did, “Will you share it with me?”

“Of course!” You and the character answered together then giggled as Levi blushed and hid behind the half cupcake as the two of you returned to sitting on the beanbags.

There was no way he was ever going to forget this moment, his eyes opened to how much you did care for him. Even if he was doubtful of others by nature, he would never doubt you again.

Mammon

People always write Mammon off as dumb and because you have a pact with him, you’re often included in that assumption. The two of you get along like peas in a pod. You’re here for a good time and Mammon can definitely provide that. 

His schemes to make money keep things interesting so you usually go along unless you have other commitments. Today’s work was clean-up in the local park. Not because it was lucrative, but because this was a punishment from a prank that backfired.

You had pleaded with Diavolo for a lighter sentence on Mammon’s behalf as his pact partner and Diavolo indulged you.

Mammon was brooding on your way to the park but you were looking forward to being outside in nature for the day so you chattered aloud to fill the silence.

Barbatos was waiting for you two with the materials you would need. He gave you a look of pity when you turned but Mammon caught it and knew Barbatos was probably feeling sorry you had to be punished when you didn’t do anything. Mammon ripped the rake out of Barbatos’ hand and sulked off after you.

You each set to different tasks, Mammon raking leaves and you weeding the flowerbeds. 

Demons and spirits passed with a few snickers, definitely not the first time Mammon had been sent to do community service but he hated that you were now a laughing stock with him. You didn’t seem phased by it though, even flashing him a bright smile when you two made eye contact. 

Halfway through the day, the two of you were taking a break for a snack and fluids, you shared a bench and admired the work so far. “We might even finish early!” You shared your optimism.

Mammon nodded but still kept quiet. It was so unlike him and you were hitting your limits of how to try to get him out of his own head, you figured he would be back to normal tomorrow but missed hearing his voice.

You two split the last of the duties, you were now cleaning equipment and decorations while he was trimming bushes and trees.

While Mammon was trimming a nearby bush, he heard your voice, then heard his name. He peeked through the bush to watch you talking with a crow.

“I thought it would make the day more fun if I was here with him because he always makes me have fun but it’s like I’ve made his mood worse…” You looked down at the bird bath you had been polishing and knelt down. The crow watched your movements from it’s perch on the top. “Maybe he hates that I intervened with Diavolo, I probably overstepped. I don’t know what I can do to get Mammon out of this funk. What do you think?”

The crow outstretched it’s wings and took off. You pouted, but continued polishing. Mammon was about to push through the bushes to comfort you, his mood wasn’t your fault and he felt even worse that you thought that but then the crow returned.

It swooped onto your shoulder and dropped something into your hand. You jumped with surprise and it scared the crow off your shoulder, it resettled on the bird bath. “This is perfect! Thank you!” The crow let you give it a few scritches and took off once more. You looked around for Mammon.

He nonchalantly rounded the bush so you would notice him, “Mammon! Look!” You rushed over and handed him the object.

It was a golden grimm coin. You explained, “A crow gave it to me, that has to be good luck! Take it and your luck will change, you won’t be punished forever!”

He wrapped you in a tight hug. What did he do to deserve you? Why did you care about him so deeply that you’d give him your treasure and good luck?

You laughed into his hug and he pulled back, “Alright, let’s finish this up and go home, I’ll treat ya to some ice cream on the way back.” He ruffled your hair but your shining eyes and too big smile made him blush and turn away.

Lucifer

He questioned if putting you under Mammon’s care at first was a mistake.

It’s not that you didn’t get along, in fact you two got along too well. Was Mammon’s stupid tendencies to slack off rubbing off on you?

You had been coming back late without being accompanied by one of his brothers and he was determined to find out what you were up to.

For the morning, he watched as you and Mammon walked to school. Lucifer stayed far enough away so he couldn’t be sensed so he couldn’t hear what you two were saying but it was clear you were having a good time. Mammon was snickering as you animatedly gestured and walked backwards. Lucifer’s heart warmed that his brother was genuinely happy then realized he was getting distracted.

You sat through your first class diligently taking notes and participating. The same for most of the classes that day. Lucifer started to acknowledge your responsibility to learning but it made him all the more curious as to why you skipped your last class. 

He watched you look around for any onlookers and dipped into the library. He was both surprised and amused that you were meeting with Simeon. The angel was leading you astray? 

Simeon didn’t look happy about it either, probably scolding you for missing class, but he was a pushover and your pathetic look won him over. The two of you sat as Simeon talked. You were taking notes on whatever Simeon was lecturing on. 

You left the interaction and Lucifer took the chance to talk with Simeon himself. He learned that you were asking about stories from the Celestial Realm. Simeon offered that it was just human nature to be curious what lays beyond life. Lucifer, the ever-skeptic, didn’t believe that was it.

He had lost your trail by talking to Simeon so he went home to wait for your return.

Lucifer intercepted you as you tried to sneak in. “MC, this way please,” he led you to his office, “How was today?”

“Good?” you answered but was unsure why he looked so serious.

“How was class?” 

You got nervous but answered, “Fine, same old same old.”

“Ah,” Lucifer smirked, “And how was Simeon?”

Your attempt to play dumb failed spectacularly when you stammered, “W-who’s Simeon?”

“Lying to me won’t do you well,” Lucifer reminded.

“Sorry, it’s just it wasn’t an approved activity so I didn’t want anyone in your family to be implicated…” you scratched the back of your head and looked away.

“And what activity is that?”

“Oh I thought you knew since you caught me,” you laughed, “Solomon and I were going to play with young demons at an orphanage in town. We were telling them stories from the Human Realm but I thought it would be nice to incorporate stories from the Celestial Realm too.”

Lucifer sighed.

You took that as a sign he was disappointed so you continued, “Let me explain, I know I should have asked permission first and for that I’m sorry. Solomon and I just stumbled on the place one day and the kids bombarded us with questions, never having seen humans before and before I knew it we were going almost everyday. I guess I thought it wouldn’t be bad because exposing the next generation of demons to humans would help Diavolo’s mission to strengthen relations between the realms. And I asked Simeon for stories so we could share Celestial Realm things too without getting Simeon in trouble or putting him in an uncomfortable position.”

Well that was definitely an eye opener for Lucifer. What you said made sense that changing minds starts with the youth. His original assumptions that you were just shirking responsibilities was way off base. He didn’t want to but admitted to himself he was wrong. Not only had you been doing something charitable but you were furthering Lord Diavolo’s message in a different way.

“You’re correct, you should have asked permission,” he started and you sank in your seat, “but I don’t see any harm in what you’re doing except for missing classes.” You sank further in your seat. “For skipping class, you’ll need to do extra studies,” he paused to make sure you knew this was a punishment, “I think a fitting topic would be interracial communication with a focus on the youth of Devildom.”

You perked up with a smile, “So I can keep going to the orphanage?”

Lucifer fought back a smile himself, trying to continue to be stern, “Yes, but that’s only if you don’t skip class and you have one of my brothers accompany you. As competent as Solomon is, he is also human and I would feel better if you had a demon escort.”

You were absolutely beaming now. “I’d like that but I don’t think you brothers would be interested.”

“They’ll do what they’re told but I think the twins would enjoy it the most,” Lucifer offered.

“Thanks! I would like if you could join us sometime too,” you suggested shyly.

He did smile at that, “If my schedule allows,” He didn’t finish before you were hugging him. He stiffened, not used to being hugged after doling out a punishment but softened and returned your hug, “I’ll make time to join you.”