#maybe the real dark urge is the impulse to keep making new little guys instead of ever finishing act 3

[givemeafish]

[alreadyblondenow]

Bad boys bring Heaven to you | Mark Lee

▸ Mark Lee x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, demon au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 4/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers​

Summary: He was your guardian angel and your dark desires changed him for the creature that he is now. He gave you a baby so he can make sure that you’re going to be together forever,  but you don’t want to keep it.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Rough sex, vanilla sex, a lot of sex will happen I’m telling you, overstimulation, pregnancy, filthy, minor/major(?) character killings, major character death, possessive behaviour, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex hence the pregnancy, mention of abortion, hospital scenes,  

A/N: FILTH. But I lessen the smut scenes (just a bit hehe)  Words in Italics are Mark’s thoughts.

Taglist: (if I happen to forgot you, I’m sorry! But these names are on my list. Thank you!) @huangxx @floweringtheflowers @minejungwoo @swimmingkpopblog @luvlyjaemin @capablemork8299 @jaehyunoos @neospirited @shanghai-lu @jenotation @strawberrytyong @lilminyoongles @cottonmyeonbby @neosaniuniverse @simp4mk @jaejaenim @junglewoos​ @sunshineleedonghyuck​ 

I used to be your guardian angel, but being a demon is the only way that I can be with you.

Guard and protect. Those are the only things that I should be doing as I stay by your side until your dying breath. Guard your heart so you could make the right decisions in life and help you with your choices. Protect you from all kinds of harm so you can live a long happy life until your time finally comes.

You just turned ten years old when you were assigned to me, I just turned thirteen at that time. I even sang you a happy birthday together with the others during your celebration. I was beside you when you blew the candle and listened to your wish. From there on it’s always been you and me, we pretty much grew up together.

I guide you with your decisions every day, protect you inside and outside your home, and listen to your prayers. Oh, I love to listen to your voice whenever you pray. It calms me and your prayers are good proof that I’m doing a great job as your guardian angel.

But as we grow up, you started making impulsive decisions that I don’t have control with. You changed during your teenage years, you no longer pray and let me hear the sound of your prayers anymore. I’m afraid you will no longer need me and that they will assign me to a new human after a few years.

When you were seventeen, you almost lost your virginity to someone who’s not worthy. I’m sorry but I have to meddle with that so I stopped it and gave the guy a piercing headache. I feel sorry for what I’ve done, truly. But he doesn’t deserve you.

I feel bad about what I did so I seek guidance from my senior angel, Doyoung. I told him everything that I felt the moment I saw the guy enter your room and watch him kiss you and put his hands around your body. I told Doyoung that for the first time, I hated your smile because you like what the guy is doing to you.

Do you know what Doyoung told me? He said that I’m starting to be unholy and have feelings for you.  

And it’s true. I’m starting to be more and more ungodly as I continue to watch you touch yourself every night with your fingers inside you, and instead of prayers, I hear moans from you every night. You started to have perverted desires which I can’t help you with because I’m an angel. I’m completely aware that I’m failing with my mission and scared to face my senior angels and keep me away from you.

If I lose you, I will be meaningless.

I sold my soul to the devil so I can be with you and follow you to a path full of desires.

It’s still the same. I’m still me but my job has no rules now and I can do whatever that pleases me to keep you in my life. Over the years of being a demon, I watch you now in a very different way. I watch you shower and get dressed, I watch you touch yourself with legs wide open as I masturbate beside you, I possessed every guy you have sex with and we always have a great time.

But I want more than this.

For many years, you’ve already mastered the art of living alone and you are your own companion. Alone in the morning, alone at night. It is a lonely and tiring life, but still, you find comfort in being just with yourself.  

Eating dinner alone in a fast food restaurant near your apartment has been your daily routine since the day you’ve landed the job of being a real estate agent away from home. Selling houses left and right, having the luxury and time to flirt and enjoy one night stands, earning buckets and buckets of money, but still, you feel alone and incomplete.

As you were just about to start to dig in, your phone rang, it was your boss calling about 127 House. The haunted house that’s been unoccupied for almost three years now and has been threatened to be taken down tomorrow and it’s part of your job to save it.

“Someone is finally interested, were going to meet him at the office tomorrow. My assistant says it’s an anonymous buyer and we just have to wait for tomorrow to talk things out” he explains excitedly. The sound of his voice was a little loud on the phone.  

“This is great news” you answered calmly, “I love that house thankfully were saving it. Have your assistant send me the details for tomorrow- Yeah, thank you!”

One of the many good things that you love about your job, is the happiness that comes with it when a house can be a home after being empty and cold for years. Haunted or not, just like a normal house, the 127 House deserves to be a home for a family.  

After having dinner alone, you quickly reviewed some of the contracts for the anonymous client for tomorrow, reviewing your presentation one last time and finally letting out a big sigh, patting yourself on the shoulder, telling yourself ‘good job.’ It would be so great if someone can really say it in front of your face and actually getting a pat on the shoulder.

Thankful nonetheless because finally you have time for yourself and reward yourself with a nice shower. But even during your shower, you were spaced out and you kept thinking how it’s actually a miracle that the 127 House got a buyer a day before it’s going to be taken down. The house was beautiful, haunted but beautiful. It would be such a waste if it wasn’t given a second chance.

“Oh fuck” you cursed when you realized you put too much soap on your body. As you were busy rinsing all the soap from your body, down to your legs until your toes, when you felt something touch your wet hair, and you turned around to see if something fell off from your rack but there's nothing, weird. You shrugged it off and continue rinsing your soapy skin, and finally putting shampoo on your hair. You close your eyes and massage your scalp, you love how the hot water feels against your skin and how it calms your nerves. Then again, you felt something touch your skin. But this time it ran up and down your slit and you’re sure it's not the hot water.

Quickly you ended your peaceful shower, reached for your towel, and prepare yourself for bed. Maybe it was hot water after all and you were just being paranoid and tired from work. The comfort your bed provides felt even more relaxing as you entertain yourself and scroll through Twitter for a moment, reading updates and seeing different trends then an interesting small clip of porn catches your attention. You watch it like a hawk and allow yourself to be aroused and turned on. Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt, and proceed to touch yourself freely.

Sucking your point and middle finger, you played with your slit with your wet fingers running it up and down until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside, you shamelessly spread your legs wider lifting your shirt so you could pinch your nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. You live alone. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes again and continue touching yourself. “Ohhh baby” you moan and feed your imagination that someone is making you feel good right now. You part your mouth and let out soft moans, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“Open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt something pinched your right nipple. You opened your eyes and stopped what you’re doing because the creepy things that are happening tonight are getting out of hand. You see a shadow of someone seated right beside you and you quickly grabbed anything you could cover your legs with for you feel so exposed in front of a stranger who could be a rapist.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?”

You open your lampshade with a slight panic and you see lustful eyes looking deep into yours. Whoever this person is, he looked angelic but what he’s doing right now says otherwise. “We can talk after we fuck. Can you remove your shirt?” his surprisingly sexy voice made you gave in and followed what he asked for. “Don’t be scared, alright?” he added.

With nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to remove your shirt and make yourself naked in front of the handsome stranger. Suddenly, he’s right beside you, naked and arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already. Is this a dream? This has to be.

“I’m Mark. How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” he asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary man is growing and growing and it’s making you hornier. He’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until he's gone and you can finally rest.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kissed your neck wildly holding your shoulders as he kisses you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” his kisses were addicting and it’s making you weak like he’s sucking all your energy. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer him, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds.

“A man from my dream?” you answered weakly.

“Correct. And I’m a demon” the last word made you shiver and you tried to push him away, even tried kicking him but it’s useless. “What’s wrong? You weren’t like this when you were moaning just a few minutes ago” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. This isn’t right. To your surprise, he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” you closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy, teasing your cunt from behind and licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.  

The position Mark put you in, made you even more harder to breathe and you can’t move for your own liking. You feel him push his cock without caution, fucking you with closed legs as he loses his mind with how good you feel around him. You, on the other hand, is a moaning mess. Gasping and breathing much air for your life as you let the demon fuck you quick and rough. Mark put his entire weight on your back, resting his left cheek on your face, thrusting in your tight cunt as you whimper and grunt under him.

“Oh baby, does it hurt?” he felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Shhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. The handsome demon continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs for him just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Unconsciously, you arched your back for him now making the demon happy and smirk as he pounds you from behind, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

He cupped your boobs from behind with both hands, still fucking you good but even deeper this time. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out and beg but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

When he finally stopped the good torture, you thought that was it, but you’re wrong. He stopped for a second and made you kneel against his chest and put his middle and point finger in your mouth and coat it with your spit, “tell me Y/n, do you want a baby? boy or a girl?” he removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply as you try your best to answer. His fingers are making you weak that you’re legs are already giving up, you just want to lay flat on the mattress. He put the same fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juices.

“Great choice. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him not because you want it, but you just want to satisfy the demon and feel him pound against you deliciously again. He can’t actually plant a baby inside you, right? This is a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face hoping that he has even a small ounce of mercy for you. Being underneath him like this made you realized that he is even more handsome up close, you bravely touched the soft skin of his face wondering how can someone or something looked so angelic on the outside but demonic on the inside.  

As you admire the beauty of the demon on top of you, he made himself comfortable in between your legs kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to line his cock in your entrance, pushing in slowly and gently as you requested for the first time tonight. Giving you a few slow and gently thrusts, you moaned and smiled whiled he let you enjoy your request. You may not know, but the demon is admiring your smile, so he kissed those soft lips of yours once again. “Now, can I rough you up a little?” he sure has no patience. You have no other choice when he puts your arms around him, “I’ll let you touch me”  

Thrusting hard again in no time, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and asked for more this time. “Can I kiss you?” you asked with ragged breaths, he answered your question with a kiss, as if he’s letting you know that you can kiss him whenever you want to, in exchange for fucking you hard.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moans like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now.

“Will I see you again? Tell me I’ll see you again” you whine under heavy breathing.

Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, “you will, you will” he answers you. It’s like he has a switch or an off button for his rough attitude because he’s suddenly sweet. “It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm.” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

 I left Heaven for you and gladly I will leave Hell too.

I am a selfish demon.

My intention for you is to love you deeply every day for as long as I exist. You may not hear me tell you ‘i love you’ but my actions are good and enough proof that my love for you is real and I want to show more.

I no longer want to possess another human just so I can talk to you or have sex with you. I no longer want to meet you secretly in your dreams and remain as your imaginary man. I want to wake up beside you and see your smile first thing in the morning, to be able to exist and be part of your life completely, walk on the streets hand in hand and live a full life with you.

It’s too much to ask, I know. But it’s not a bad thing.

As I watch you grow as an adult, you became more and more lonely, incomplete, and unsatisfied with the things you have in your life. I can make you happy I’m sure of it.

And giving you a baby is something that can make you need me or can make you want me to stay and be part of your life. I’m sorry.

But I’m a selfish demon and all I wanted is to be with you.

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a disturbingly nice dream. Another call from your boss about 127 House, today is the day that the house will finally be saved. As you stretch your body in bed, it’s weird how you feel so sore and tired when you perfectly remember sleeping early last night and had the weirdest dream in your life. The sex from the dream played like a movie picture in your head, the handsome face of the demon is engraved in your mind, “Mark” you whispered as you remember his name and how he kissed you oh so sweetly while he was telling you that you’re going to be great parents.

Knowing that it’s just a dream, you shrugged it off and started your day with a nice coffee and light breakfast, reviewing your presentation on the side for later, making sure that everything you say about the house will not make the buyer turn their back.

Another day at the office is another annoying day with your boss, which is also your ex boyfriend. Yuta is a good proof that you don’t know how to be with someone else other than yourself because you’re used to being alone that you don’t let other people inside your life. And yet, you feel lonely and you still want to try. Yuta is a great guy, but the problem is not him, it’s you.

“Well you look beautiful… and glowing” he greets you with his perfect smile before you two enter the empty and cold conference room. He recognizes that glow, and it hurts his pride that you’re fucking somebody else and not him. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not together anymore, he still thinks he owns you.

You smiled back at him and proceed to prepare your things before the client comes in. It’s obvious that something is bothering Yuta, you wanted to ask him but you’re afraid to give him the wrong idea about you being concerned. So you focused your mind elsewhere and did not mind him further.

“Ah! Mr. Lee, welcome. Please take a seat. May I introduce you to one of my finest realtor, Ms. Y/n. Leave everything to her”

The client is facing Yuta and all you can see is his handsome figure from behind, nice ass, you thought. You put up a smile and ready yourself to shake hands with the client that will save the 127 House. “Hi Mr. Lee-“

It was truly an unexpected moment. You will never forget that angelic face that you admired so much in your dream. You try to hide your uneasiness and remained professional as you shake hands with Mr. Lee and proceed with your presentation.

During your presentation, you can’t stop thinking of the man with the same face and angelic features as Mr. Lee, fucking you senseless in your dream. It was just a dream but as you dive in more to the memory, you can almost feel the wet kisses that he left on your neck, the way he hurt you so good stretching your cunt, and his amazing duality after the sex. “…and that is all for 127 House, which will all be yours after we schedule you for a private tour so can see for yourself-“

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you like this house?”

“It’s one of our best, of course, sir-“

“No. I mean. Do you see yourself smiling and completely happy if you happen to own the 127 House?”

It’s a question that you can’t answer on the spot but come to think of it, yes, having a family with a big house to call it home isn’t such a bad choice in life. But for now, having a family is not on your cards clearly because you’re single at the moment and you’re not ready to have a family of your own. To answer your client’s question, “Yes, sir. I think the 127 House will change my life upside down, in and out if I happen to own it. My future children will have such beautiful home” you smiled awkwardly at him, hoping that your answer finally satisfies him.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” he says with a teasing tone that you don’t know what it’s for. You were sure that he’s smirking at you while Yuta explains the contract to Mr. Lee’s assistant and you were sure, that he has something to do with your dream. This can’t be.

As Yuta finishes the meeting with a light note and had his secretary help Mr. Lee with the contract and money talk, you can’t help but think about your future. A husband, your own house, having kids, all those things were floating in your mind. “If you wanted the house you could’ve just told me” Yuta’s voice brought you back to reality. The conference room was again empty and it’s you and Yuta were all that’s left.

“What are you talking about” you fixed your things and try to avoid Yuta’s presence.

“We could’ve been married and have kids you know,” he came close to you like he’s just about to kiss you.

“And I broke up with you for a reason, that I don’t love you anymore. Stop hurting yourself Yu, were fine now don’t ruin this” hearing that made Yuta remember the night you broke up with him. Still hurt like hell he thought.

You left him in the conference room and went back to work, went on with your usual day at the office. Busying yourself further and finishing loads of tasks before you head home. But despite your busy day, you kept on thinking about Mr. Lee over and over again, and that demon in your dream who had sex with you and told you about being great parents. Something is connecting the demon and Mr. Lee but you can’t point out what exactly.

As much as you want to deny the clues and just move forward with your life, your gut tells you that they’re the same person and there’s only one way to find out, ask the demon. But he never showed up again which leads you to your second option, contact Mr. Lee or his assistant. And as expected, they’re out of reach. It’s absurd, time wasting, and scary, but you would rather be scared of the truth than not knowing anything at all.

Night after night, you hopelessly wait for the handsome demon to visit you again. Secretly hoping that he will show up in your dream, even just for a minute no more no less, even if it’s just for sex, you just need to talk to him.

Work piles up and you continue to busy yourself selling houses, closing deals every week, watching couples be happy because they finally have a home, hoping that someday that could be you so you won’t get lonely in life. But with whom?

“You look awful, are you okay?” that’s what Yuta said instead of greeting you good morning and flirt with you like he normally does.

“Yeah. I feel like shit, but I’m fine. Maybe overworked, but I’m fine” it’s true, you don’t usually get sick because of overworking but this is different. You feel weak and tired even if you got enough sleep. Heck, even if you’re not working you’re still tired and dizzy. “So I was thinking some of the major points for the campaign-“

You didn’t finish your sentence and left Yuta in your office and ran to the nearest restroom to throw up. It was not hungover, that part you’re sure, you don’t get sick like whenever you’re tired from work. It doesn't make any sense. Then you realized, “fuck, I’m late” and there's only one person or creature to blame. Mark, the demon.

Hot tears fall from your eyes as you flush the toilet, wipe your mouth, and gather your strength to come out of the cubicle. To your surprise, Yuta was just outside the lady's restroom, waiting for you and making sure that you’re okay. He has his own thoughts and if he’s being completely honest, he’s disgusted. How can you be so stupid? Getting yourself knocked up before you even get married?

“Who’s the father?” he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and already judging you.

“Please Yuta not now” the last thing you need right now is your ex being unreasonable.

“Are you going to keep it? I’m willing to pay for the abortion, I know you’re not yet ready” that’s it. That made you snap. Yuta is a nice person, but sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he constantly forgets his role in your life.

“How dare you. I’m speechless Yuta. You don’t want this baby not because of the reason that I’m not ready but for your selfish reasons, which I’m not interested. You’re my boss, can I leave early?”

Of course, Yuta didn’t take it well. His pride was hurt, the baby is like an ending note for the both of you. The meaningless conversation with Yuta lasted for almost half an hour, it’s like a never ending loophole whenever you talk to him about personal issues and you hate it. With or without Yuta’s permission, you went home and take care of yourself. The pregnancy test made it official and once again, you feel lost and lonely more than ever. How can the demon do this to you? Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re just a one time thing for him.

Hoping that everything will be fine once you’re all well rested, you decided to sleep it off and try to fix and handle things when you wake up. The moment you closed your eyes, you feel wet kisses all over your exposed shoulders. You even felt the bed dip as if someone joined you to bed and shared their warmth.

“Baby I’m here” Mark whispers, trying to wake you up. It may not feel like it, but you were sleeping for two hours already. “You’re not just a one time thing for me" he added.

His hot breath woke you up, and finally seeing the handsome demon again unexpectedly made you feel better and welcomed him with a warm hug. Even Mark was shocked but he accepts your hug and returned to you even more warmly. His skin is hot, or maybe that’s just his warmth. He smelled like cinnamon, hot afternoons, did he just came from hell and went straight to your apartment?  

“I didn’t show up for days because I wanted to make sure you wanted to see me” he disturbed your thoughts. Putting your hair away from your face and leaving light feathery kisses on your lips.

“Mark, I’m pregnant” you finally blurted out. Curious about what he’s going to react.

“And?” he was avoiding eye contact not because he’s shy, but because he can’t believe he can admire you closely like this and you finally know he exists. “Can we fuck first then talk later?”

You still have a lot of questions for him but he never gave you answers and it frustrates you. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw each other and he’s thinking about fucking right now. Unbelievable. “Not having sex with you until you tell me answers,” you said as gentle as possible, not wanting the demon to leave you empty handed again.

He just chuckled. Well, at least he’s not leaving yet because he’s starting to spread kisses all over your exposed skin. Feeling those incredible lips again makes you even more relaxed, his hands all around your sides roaming softly. You can’t believe you’re finally letting him in without boundaries.

“Show me your tits,” he said, lifting your thin shirt so easily.

“If I showed you my tits will you stop and finally have a decent conversation with me?”

“If you showed me your tits, baby I wont' stop. I’m here to remind you that you’re mine” he said heavily breathing from the hungry kiss biting your ears, your neck, and your lips. You pushed him away for a moment but it was a gentle push. You didn’t want to piss him off.

His hands are ready to push your bra down, he’s just waiting for you to let go and stop being a bitch. You figured you got nothing to lose so you grabbed his face and kissed him like how you missed him. Putting his hands on your boobs, guiding his hands to push down your bra and show him your tits. “That’s my girl,” he said in between kisses, feeling his warm smile before he pulls away and finally looks at your tits. “Mine,” he said, before licking a long stripe from your left nipple up to your chest, neck, and ends on your lips. Kissing you passionately before he does it again with your right boob. “Lift your chest” you followed what he said and you felt him unclasp your bra swiftly, It was a sign to remove your shirt and help him undress you.

Both naked in bed kissing like a loving couple, Mark decided to go a little easy on you tonight. After all, roughing you up is not part of his plan and purpose of his visit. He goes on top of you, lips still not leaving yours. “Did you miss me?” he asks, you can only answer using your hungry kisses. You feel his hand travel up and down your body oh so softly you’re starting to get ticklish that your lips parts because of his soft touches, he puts your panties in your mouth and your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m going to go easy on you tonight, don’t worry” he says. Mark looks handsomely scary and filthy right now in between your open legs licking your boobs and brushing his hand on your nipples making you sensitive. He reaches for your hand to suck your fingers good while looking directly in your eyes. You rolled your head back on your fluffy pillows, moaning and whimpering, letting your ruined panties in your mouth muffle the sounds that you’re making. If this was his idea of going easy then you’re fucked.

Mark let’s go of your left hand so he can touch your pussy while kissing your lower abdomen. Your hips roll uncontrollably and Mark likes the sounds that you’re making. He kneels in front of you and grabbed your free hand to pump his cock, play with its tip before he goes in. He lines his cock to your entrance and pushed in one hard thrust. Since your mouth is occupied, you can only hear Mark’s grunts while fucking you hard in the first few thrusts. It was too much, you were in tears. Sobbing and whimpering from the hurt. He noticed it. He removed your panties from your mouth crashing his lips to yours the moment he threw your wet panties away. “That was hot right?” He continues to kiss you wildly while giving you merciless thrusts. You try to breathe and catch your breath but he won't let you, “Mark, please” you call him out weakly.

“No, baby. You’re doing perfect don’t disappoint me” he kissed and kissed you until both of your lips are swollen. Thrust and thrust in your pussy until your boobs bounce nonstop and you’re on edge. The moment you reached your orgasm, Mark kissed you softly but he never stopped fucking you. You smiled at him, reaching for his face for another sweet kiss, helping him catch his sweet release.

He gave you three piercing thrusts that hurt so bad but felt so good before he pulls out and came on your pussy lips. Spreading white thick fluids all over your folds, and going in for the last time for his own satisfaction and pullout again quickly. It was a quick stretch that hurt but it was bearable.

He lay down beside you, spooning you and kissing your shoulders. Running a finger on your nipples as you both calm down and enjoy your fluffy bed and soft pillows. “As always you did good” he cuddles with you in bed, something you didn’t see coming. Even though he’s all scary and rude he’s capable of being sweet and you love it.

“How about that talk you owe me?” you kissed his neck as a way of returning the favor for making you feel good.

“Let’s go on a date. I want to do this right, it’s never my intention to scare you”

“You’re naturally scary, you don’t know that?” he smiles and made his one arm as his pillow so he can look at you properly.

“I’ll stop the baby from growing. For now. One date Y/n, and if you still hate me it’s over between us. The baby… the baby is my only way so I can stay with you forever”  

Weird. The idea of Mark leaving you doesn’t sound so good. And to be honest you want to spend more time with him. He nuzzles your armpit making you laugh and giggle and at the same time. He’s cute when he's in the good mood.

“You could have asked me to go on a date first before you knocked me up,” you kissed his cheek and watch him roll his eye at you. Handsome. So handsome you thought.

“No. Having a baby will be our priority. Please, let's be happy. I can change your life”

Unfortunately, as you listen to the handsome demon confess his feelings for you, you suddenly thought about Yuta. Your ex wanted the exact same thing and things didn’t go well between you two. There’s something different about Mark that makes you want to try and work this family thing out with him. Even if he’s a demon if he can love you unconditionally, well having a family with him isn’t so bad.

But still, you need time. And getting you pregnant first before building an established relationship is too much.

I knew you will not take it easily, and it's fine by me I have all the patience in the world.

I'm selfish but I can’t force you to love me and your love, that’s what I want. That’s why I have to win you. Even if going on dates isn’t my best way to make you fall in love with me, it’s the right thing to do.

Yes, I can force you to stay in my house with that baby, but being together without love…well, what’s the point of it?

Now, I’m sorry for getting you pregnant first. I’m desperate. I long for you. You’re like a dream that I’m willing to do everything just so you can come true.  

The most awaited dinner was full of flirting, low giggles, and honest talk. You insist on knowing him more and you’re more than happy to introduce yourself but he seems like he knew you all too well. “There’s nothing much to know about me” he takes a bite from his steak, “But let me be honest and I hope I won't scare you… I used to be your guardian angel…”

You listen to the whole story of the truth on how he used to be your guardian angel and became a demon because you embraced such pleasures in life. He told you how he fell in love with you even more when he became dark, he said that it felt good that there's nothing holding him back. “Believe it or not, I was your first. I couldn’t stomach watching you have sex with anyone else other than me” he explained further how he possessed every guy you had sex with and you find it amusing how he’s completely possessive when it comes to you.

“So Yuta?”

“Oh no no, not him. He has his own demon I can’t possess him. And that was my breaking point. When you two were together, I was broken, I feel abandoned and I secretly hope that you two break up, then it happened and I have nothing to do with it I promise. So now I’m here, taking my chance”

You question him further about your life, asking him about the things you only knew about yourself, things that only your family can answer, and not even your closest friends. Not because you doubt his honesty, but only because it's amusing to listen to him. All this time you weren’t alone. All these years of believing that you’re alone, little did you know you have Mark. The things that he’s telling you does not make you feel weird, it’s like you’re talking to a long lost friend who knew everything about you.

It’s amazing how he’s a demon but his honesty amazes you as he’s not capable of lying. Maybe he has something left from being an angel? Nonetheless, you see nothing wrong with giving him a chance to give you happiness. “Still you could have been honest first and take me on a date before you- you know”

“No, I need you to need me. That’s the only way. I’m here on a date with you because I can’t win you by playing tough, maybe I can win you by playing nice. So please stop hating me about the baby. I really want it with you” he reached for your hand on the table and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t hate you, Mark in fact I like you, I really do but the baby is too much. We can still try and be in a relationship without having a baby”

“Just give us a chance” he winked at you and continue eating his steak.  

As you two continue the wonderful dinner and setting aside the baby talk for the rest of the night, he filled your heart with wonderful promises that you’re looking forward to seeing him do. And while he was talking, you noticed how your heart skip a beat when he raises his eyebrows and smirk. Handsome demon, that’s what he is.

During the car ride which you don’t know where he’s taking you, he never let go of your hand, kissing the back of it whenever he can and making you giggle with his spontaneous sweetness. “Where are you taking me? I thought you’re going to drive me home”

“I am. Were going home” You turned silent when you saw the beautiful white house from afar. He brought you to 127 House. “I bought this house because you were desperate to sell it. Also, that’s why I asked you if you see yourself being happy owning the house” he added and kissed your hand again.

The house is even more beautiful at night, Mark let you admire the house as he follows you and watch you with full admiration. You love what he did to the house, rather than a mansion with a plain interior he made it look like it’s ready to be a home for a family. What you see is not a demon who manipulated you, Mark is a desperate man who’s willing to try to make you happy and who’s desperate to have a family of his own with the woman that he loves. You.

“Welcome home?” he says.

“It’s too early for that Mark, I like you but how can you be so sure about this?” his confidence amuse you.

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows on you, caging you with a warm embrace from behind as you two watch the calm water on the pool outside. “You sound like I haven’t fucked you already. I’m confident about this. Welcome home” he repeats and planted a kiss on your temple. A simple gesture that makes you happy.

As you two enjoy the comfortable silence while swaying side to side for some time, you feel his hot breath tickling the back of your neck, giving you a shiver that goes straight to your spine. You’re familiar with Mark’s presence already. A presence you always crave, something you always want near you. “What do you want to do next, beautiful?” he asks, kissing your neck and making your knees weak.

“Can we have normal sex? Without you fucking me in my dreams? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. From now on, no more having sex in your dreams and no more possessing other humans. It’s just me now” he reaches for your lips, turning your body so you could kiss properly. You feel safe in his arms, which made you realize that he has done so much for you.

“Maybe it’s time for me to give back, Mark” he smiled, motioning you on his huge couch.

“What do you have in mind?” he removes your shoes and made you sit on his lap.

“I can start by,” you kiss him slowly on his neck, cup his face but he’s quick to kiss your hand softly, “I can start by being on top tonight, let me make you cum for as many as you want?” he chuckled low and nod his head. He sat there looking devilishly handsome, letting you do what you want as he watches you with lustful eyes.

I never thought that the date will work out and quite frankly, I’m thankful for our date. It’s the first night that I felt that I could actually be part of your life. For the first time, I feel like I’m a man and not just a fallen angel or a demon.

The way you kissed on my neck, when you smile whenever our eyes meet, how you touched me and kissed my body, the feeling of your fingertips dancing around my skin. It’s addictive. It almost felt like our first time having sex. The night I took your virginity, I couldn’t have enough of you that I keep on asking for another round if you remember.

And oh! When you held my hand while you roll your hips slowly, It was life changing Y/n.

Thank you for giving me a chance to prove my love further to you.

After having a few rounds on the couch and his huge bed, Mark is now watching you sleep beside him. Caressing your face softly as he turns this moment into a special one because his dream of sleeping beside you with his whole being finally came true. “I’m so in love with you,” he says before drifting to sleep.  

Welcoming the demon in your life was the best decision you ever made even though the baby part is still blurry. Nonetheless, Mark made you feel loved every day in many different ways. May it be through his sweet words, making love to you instead of fucking hard, holding your hand while you two watch a scary movie, or whenever he sings to you after learning a new song. For a demon who came out of hell, he’s a little sweet and romantic.

He also adapted well to this world, even found out that his eyesight is poor and that you have to get him a pair of glasses. And as he stays in this world loving you, his love for watermelons and playing with his guitar grew stronger each day too.

Seasons change and years pass by like a snap of your finger, you and Mark stayed happily together in 127 House and make it a home, even if it’s just the two of you. He made you so happy in life that you forgot life before he came.  

“Where did you find that handsome guy?” your best friend asks you while she’s slicing her son’s birthday cake. You help her with the plates while you answer every question she throws.

“Dating app” you lied and laughed at her to shut her up.

“I know that’s a lie but I don’t care. That man makes you happier than ever. What is he an angel or something?” If only she knew.

You watch Mark play with other kids, tickling their tummies as he giggles with them. Being a father suits him well and you bet he still dreams of becoming one. You almost feel sorry about it because you can’t give the only thing he asks for.

When you got home and now that Mark is balls deep inside you while you ride him deliciously, your head is not there. You kept on thinking about something and of course, Mark is quick to stop doing what he’s doing. “Hey your mind is so noisy and clouded” he’s no complaining, he’s worried about you because he can hear you but can't understand you. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

You lean forward to him and rest your forehead on his chest, readying yourself to finally tell him that, “I want to have a baby”

For a moment it was dead silent while you two look each other eye to eye but soon he sat up and hug you, making you moan because he’s still deep inside you. He showered you with kisses, crying tears of joy because now his life is finally complete.

“I love you. And I’m sorry for keeping you away from being a great dad-“

“You did nothing wrong. Stop apologizing” he cups your face and kissed you deeply, pulling you back on the mattress to continue what you two were doing but this time it’s for a purpose.

During your pregnancy, you’ve never seen Mark so happy.

He was by your side like the guardian angel that he used to be. Taking care of you all the way from sun up to sun down. You’ve never thought that your pregnancy will be bearable, full of happiness and laughter because of a demon who fell in love with you.

Everything was going too fast, the next thing you know is you’re already seven months pregnant and Mark is staring at your tummy for almost five minutes as he waits for his baby to kick and your tummy move and be amazed over and over again. You’re starting to doubt if he’s really a demon. “Oh! See that! He kicked!” you laughed at him as he holds your tummy with both hands and spread kisses on it.  

Things were going smoothly until the day has finally come and you’re at the delivery room fighting for your life. Quite literally. The doctors are having a huge problem pulling your baby out of your belly and they needed Mark to get out of the room because the situation became serious. He was about to lose you and the doctors want him out, of course, Mark wants to cause a scene. But he knew better. The last memory you had before closing your eyes was the door closing on Mark as he can’t do anything about it. Through a glass window, Mark sees everything that the doctors are doing to you. He wanted so bad to hold your hand so you know that you still have to fight for your life and the baby’s life.

When the baby is finally out, he was so happy to see his baby for the first that he’s sobbing and whimpering. Murmuring even that you need to wake up because finally, the baby is here. The smile painted on Mark’s face was priceless. But not for long. He knew that there’s something wrong when the doctors were staring at the baby, waiting for it to cry. Mark’s world turned black when he watches the doctor shook his head in front of him.

It was life changing.

The once happy home for you and Mark became a place so cold and gloomy as if happiness never touched the 127 House. As you’re struggling with depression, Mark embraced his anger and caused chaos everywhere. Not giving a fuck what happens to anyone because nothing can compare to the sadness that he’s feeling. It all happened for a year, which changed your relationship into small talks and cold nights. Like you two have broken up but you still live under the same roof.

But the demon loves you so much that he tried everything to pick himself up and take care of you. Your relationship was too precious for him and realized that it’s the only thing he has left. Slowly, you forgive yourself and tried to live again. Patience keeps on growing as you and Mark chose to love each other deeper and move on with what’s left with your life.

After having several check-ups, taking every advice that the doctor says, and finding out that it’s safe for you to have a baby again, you and Mark gave it another chance without hesitating. Now, you’re six months pregnant and life is slowly becoming happy again.

“Long time no see” It’s his demon best friend, Haechan. He appeared out of nowhere while Mark is having some fresh air on the balcony. Mark waits for his friend to talk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just here to let you know that your Y/n has a new guardian angel since you’ve been so busy being a human”

“Fuck- No wonder our life is so messed up right now”

“Don’t let it kill your baby again” and just like that Haechan is gone before Mark could even ask him more about this guardian angel.

When you become a parent, your child will automatically be your prize possession. But for Mark, he has two people dear in his life. Two people. That’s all he has. And he’s not going let that angel kill his baby again and make you suffer.

Mark stick to you like glue, and you noticed that he has been even more protective than ever. “I’m going to be fine, Mark. What are you so afraid of?” you kiss him before you head to the bathroom to take a pee. This part of Mark that’s so paranoid is freaking you out and scaring you sometimes. Like he’s not telling you something or he’s hiding something from you.

Mark continues to protect you from that angel, and day by day he’s becoming even more afraid of what might happen to you. If that angel is capable of killing something precious, then who knows what else can it do to harm you further.

“Do you miss being an angel?” you asked Mark while you two lay in bed closely.

“No” he answers without hesitating.

“Do you have wings back then?”

He chuckled low and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We’ve been together for many years and you’re asking me this just now? But yes. I did. And it hurt like hell when they took it off. But I was happy afterward, it simply means I can finally be with you” his happiness is evident because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you apologized, but maybe you just want to.

“For making me the happiest demon? Oh come on, ‘I love you, Mark’ is so much better” he was acting cute and his charms still work on you.

“I love you, Mark”

“Thanks. I know” you smack his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and tell you, “I love you too, Y/n. You know that”

There's nothing wrong with being positive in life again after going through so much pain or after losing your first baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. As you and Mark wait for your due date, days have been beautiful while you wait for the baby. You are healthy, the baby is healthy, even Mark is healthy. You really think that this is going to be different than the first. Different in a beautiful way.

When the day finally comes, you were smiling and quite excited as Mark stays by your side the whole time. He was holding your hand, helping you to breathe, and fight to achieve that happiness with you. “Breathe with me, everything will be fine,” he says, smiling so handsomely in front of your eyes. You wanted to tell him that you love so much, thank him for changing your life but saying things like that while you're pushing to bring out the baby is kind of out of the scene. So you gave him a weak smile instead.

When the doctor had finally held the baby you and Mark were so happy because you were so close to being a family now.

But you’re slowly getting weak and he watches your smile fade and your eyes close.

“Doctor we are losing here!” the nurse exclaimed. Everything is happening again, Mark thought. As he watches the doctors and the nurses do everything they can to save you, Mark stood there quietly knowing all too well how dying works.

“Y/n, you can’t die. It’s not your time yet” he said a little too loud while standing like a statue. He used to be your guardian angel, of course, he knew things like this. “Y/n, you will be fine” he exclaimed again but this time there were tears in his eyes and his voice broke.

Time suddenly stopped and the scene was oddly familiar to him, there’s an angel inside this room to bring your soul to Heaven. “No, no”. he murmurs with tears in his eyes, looking around the room waiting for the angel to appear. “I know you’re here” he turned around multiple times until your new guardian angel appears. Doyoung.

“How many babies should I bring to heaven to make you stop? Look what you made me do” Doyoung said, “It’s not her time yet but this is the only way to keep her away from you. It’s an angel baby, Mark! You know that angels are not allowed to be born other than the insides of Heaven. It’s dangerous to expose divinity in the eyes of humans. What were you thinking?”

“I did not know- please bring her back. I’ll do anything you want” Mark begs his old friend, crying and whimpering like a little boy. If only he knew from the start he wouldn’t have got you pregnant in the first place and watch you suffer two times. Now he’s mad at himself.

“It’s too late old friend, I’m just doing my job”

And even before Mark could beg more, time turned back to normal and the doctor had announced the time of your death.

What better way to be punished after betraying Heaven and Hell by taking the love of his life. Of course, the heavenly creatures will bring you to Heaven because they knew all too well that Mark can’t enter the silver city again.  

[ackermanshoe]

March comes in like a lion, it's Portrayal of toxic & healthy relationship and how to compares rivamika + Ereh

Que the longest title everr 😌✨

So before I start on the actual analysis, I recently started watching March comes in like a lion instead of doing my assignments and I half way through season 2. For those of you who haven't watched it, it might be a spoilers so beware of that.

In this analysis I'll be comparing the similarities I found between Rei, Hina and Kyoko.

So watching any anime after being do emotionally attached to rivamika it's only natural that I compare them to the characters with even the tiniest bit similarities in their dynamic but Rei and hina's relationship jump in episode 4 of season 2 really caught me off guard and I was like omg?? Rivamika?? How do I make this about them 😩

Anyway so a little background on Rei's relationship with both girls Kyoko and Hina ( Hinata ). Firstly, i subconsciously placed Rei has Mikasa, kyoko has Eren and Hina as Levi, why? You will know on a minute. Rei is a depressed kid who has known only one way of life and that's through shogi games and after his parents death ( cough cough ) he was taken in by a old friend ( I think ) of his dad's who was also obsessed with shogi. Kyoko is the biological daughter of this man who has "adopted" Rei and later on Rei was came to know Hina and her sisters, they were super supportive of him from the start and having lost family members themselves they related to him on a personal level.

So you see why Eren and mikasa's dynamic matches with Rei and Kyoko and not only as "step siblings" it's also the fact that Rei became somewhat obsessed with her through the time he had spent over at their house, it's toxic and it's been showcased that way ever since kyoko was introduced into the series. Rei thought of her when he heard the word "love" and he even admitted to the fact that having her around is toxic and yet he can't push her away. He said he does not want to stop hearing her voice even tho she , herself is in love with a much older man who is married. Everytime she showed up to his bedroom uninvited and slept next to him my mind went "he is in love with her and their relationship is so toxic why does the author keep bringing her into his life?" Or "girl get the fuck away from him".

Without even thinking too much deep into their physical connection I already knew I would be able to related this dynamic to Eren and Mikasa. Although this series gives us much more depth into the main characters views since it's narrated from his own perspective, and the fact that he metaphorically compared his feelings of being lost and sadness helps me as an audience to understand what's happening much much easier than attack on titan. I personally feel like this kind of series are usually short ( idk how long this is) because it feels like the author knows exactly what he is going for, everything is set in stone.

Going back to Rei's ( mikasa's) relationship with kyoko ( Eren ) it's much much clear how toxic it had become for him in more than just one way. And the show isn't denying Rei of his feelings towards Kyoko and it's not even attempting to distant him from her and yet you just knew there had to be someone better right? That's when they introduced Hina and Kyoko in the same episode, meeting each other and a sense of invisible rivalry gushed over them, especially Hina. She is a happy go lucky girl and extremely sensitive to things to the point it kinda annoys me everytime she bursts out crying ( but hey you can't hate a genuinely good character ).

That's where things get interesting for me maybe because I am on that Levi X Mikasa agenda all the time but just like rivamika their relationship has been portrayed as platonic for the longest time in the seaosns. If I didn't go out of way to search up who Rei falls in love with and it didn't say hina's name I probably wouldn't be making this comparison right now because who wants to have their heart broken for the 2nd time in the same fucking month 🙄.

Anyway so in this one episode Hina comes home crying because of bullying issue at school and as she runs off into the dark streets Rei chases her and eventually catching up to her takes her hand and being able to relate to her problems, comparing his younger self to her present Rei reaches out his hand and God fucking damn it he says "you saved my life..I promise I'll stay with you" ofc I'm making this post now you know the real reason 🤡.

The unseen build up that happen between them reminds me of rivamika, the Portrayal of healthy relationship is rivamika. Hina (in our case Levi ) to Rei is the voice of emotion, she speaks out the feelings that Rei has been surpassing all these years inside of him. Just like how we talked about Levi is the voice of reason, while Mikasa has the impulsive urge to act up. Just like how Levi became the perosn who reasonably always took mikasa's side, he gave her personal reasons to take Erens side everytime have an actual meaning towards the scouts / everyone , he then became someone Mikasa was able to object & voice out her opinion towards because she knew that he would response and guide her the right way and finally he became someone she was able to fully trust.

Much like Hina and Rei, when Hina cried out her heart and Rei couldn't help but go back to his past self and imagine Hina coming to him and giving him a hand, being his saviour. It's much like how Levi saw his past self in Mikasa present ( S1 ), Levi gave Mikasa the hand she needed when she didn't know she needed.

Hina despite being much younger than him, was able to make him realise that he too was shutting out his emotions and was able to let himself be free through Hina when she cried, expressing her frustrations and very human like emotions. In the forest of the giant trees when Mikasa and Levi saved Eren for the first time he told her " we got your precious friend, didn't we?" A slight wake up call he had given her for the very first time, an attack on Mikasa's ego and evoking a different emotions within her. Like telling her it's not only about Eren and getting revenge, risking your life so easily, Levi had lost his entire squad in order to protect Eren so now that he is safe they better leave now.

So the question is did Levi and Mikasa save each other?

What can I say that I haven't said already in here about these two?

"you saved my life" Rei says to Hina as he reached out her hand and the beauty of that scene was the fact that it was delicate and soft despite it not being anything romantic. Remind me of that panel of Mikasa touching Levi's shoulder. How ironic is the fact that I'm comparing Hina, a openly emotional character to Levi who is said to be the most emotional inside?

Levi physically saved Mikasa a lot of the time however emotionally Levi saved Mikasa from being selfish and from herself. What if I said and ignoring 139, that Levi was one of of the biggest reasons Mikasa took the initiative and decapitated Eren that day?

Wait why does it feel like I already said it before lol

Through Levi, Mikasa learnt to trust more, learnt that even though they gave difference not only in height, age and in how they treat Eren ( Levi with force and Mikasa with care ), Mikasa still came in terms with Levi and relied on him, shared her burden with him. I think that's the biggest character twist Mikasa had, the fact that she was ready to draw sword at anyone who treated Eren wrong and everyone was scared of her and then came the grumpy shorty who beat her beloved brother right in front of her but eventually he became the biggest form of support she had in the end. I just can not help but laugh at all the unseen development this ship has had and all the implication of Futher interaction after season 3 between them, it's really obvious they had something going on because imagine you don't talk to someone for like 3 years and suddenly when you engage in battle against , paired up with them suddenly you become the strongest duo known to humanity. +?)!#)# make it make sense.

Sooo now you see the that having toxic relationship with a partner is only natural and inevitable but growing from that, opening your eyes to those who actually care there for you is rather healthy. So moral of the story is guys make sure stick with those who tells you to stay with them, the end.

Omg guys this turned out so much longer than I intended, anyway hopefully y'all liked it. I know it's not the strongest comparison or analysis but I feel like I'm running out of words for what I want to say about rivamika it feels like I'm recycling my sentences from previous analysis over and over again because ✨ lack of content ✨ and my inability to think of something new.

Please ignore all my spelling mistakes I have decided to embrace my mistakes instead of fixing them simply because I'm too lazy 😉

💜💜💜

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Eight

Ao3,  Masterpost,  C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6   C.7

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships.

Second chapter of the night, babe! I’m really going for it with finishing this story!! mostly no italics as is my usual, because tumblr Sucks <3 

Warnings: cursing, brief true-crime talk, sexual innuendo, depressive episodes, crying, LOTS of h/c, mentions of past neglect (ok neglect is a really strong word it isn’t that bad, but, idk what to call it), touch-starvation, honestly though this is a ridiculously fluffy chapter guys. 

Word count: 5,618

In three weeks, Patton and Remus had gone from borderline insomnia to a sleep schedule that could’ve impressed even Logan. 

And in three weeks, neither had spent a single night alone.

The talk they’d had after their first sleepover ended up leaving more of an impact than either had realized. Maybe it should’ve been expected: they were both accustomed to saying exactly what they meant, exactly how they meant it, and any sort of vow to ‘never let go’ couldn’t be used lightly for two creatures like that. 

So, independently, they both decided to be as literal as they could about it. God, were they clingy.

But it worked better than anything. There was less aching, more talking, and if they were feeling better, the whole Mindpalace improved. Something something, the delicate ecosystem of the human mind, blah blah. 

And then it worked too well. 

Neither of them really knew what had happened, or how to feel about it (it might have been sad or strange that neither had ever had anything to compare it to, but if asked, they’d both say that’s what made it so special. They’d be right to say so, of course). It was what they had, together.

It wasn’t romantic- they’d seen romantic, knew it as well as they could, didn’t care for it. But in the end who cared about semantics? It didn’t matter, the reasons why Patton stared after his friend for a little too long, or what was making it so hard for Remus not to kiss his pal smack on the lips every time he smiled. Another thing that didn’t matter was the why in response to how they still hadn’t talked about it, but… Patton and Remus had resolved that as a problem for another time.

What mattered was that it just was.

(And another thing that mattered, a little bit, was the how it had happened, and both of them understood that perfectly well.)

Remus lounged on the floor at the foot of his bed, Patton behind and above him. Patton’s fingers were working steadily through his mess of hair, while the pair half-watched TV. They didn’t agree on most shows, and neither of them were especially crazy about arguing, which meant it was twenty minutes of roundabout conversation until they stumbled across something they could mutually zone out to. Whatever. The system worked.

Remus typically preoccupied himself with drawing, painting, or carving some material into something or other (said something-or-other was almost always a knife or a dildo. Occasionally, it was both). 

Patton seemed to favor being distracted by Remus’ hair, though it wasn’t clear why. Remus hadn’t asked; it felt nice, and he was surprised that anyone would actually want to thread their fingers through those oily strings, so why question a good thing? 

Actually, a better question was why not. The thought had stuck in his mind, and he had nothing better to do- art block and all- so. Remus tossed his sketchbook to the side and twisted up to look at Patton.

“Why do you do that?”

Patton glanced down at him. “Do what?”

Remus reached up, prying Patton’s hands out of his hair and holding them up like evidence. Patton blinked at them, and okay, cute- but he looked genuinely surprised by the question. 

“Oh, playing with your hair? I mean, there’s no real reason, I guess it’s just mindless. Something to fidget with, y’know? It’s always all tangled up, too, so it’s like a little puzzle- a puzzle I probably won’t solve all the way ever, but that’s most puzzles with me to be honest,” he smiled brightly, creasing all his laugh lines just right. “Also, um, it feels nice that I get to stay touching you, even if it’s just something small,” he shrugged, sort of sheepishly. “Is that weird?”

But Remus was beaming up at him, definitely looking all sorts of stupid for it, and definitely not caring. He dropped Patton’s hands, letting them find their way back into his coils and matts of hair. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sugar Cookie, but you can keep messing with my hair all you want. It probably is weird, in that case, because I like that you have your hands on me so much-” Jesus Christ it was so hard not to make a sex joke, Remus had to stifle several from breaking his train of thought. Ugh, the things he did for this man. “-And if I like something, it’s 100% freaky!”

Patton just laughed, his nose scrunching up while he ruffled Remus’ hair. 

“That’s- that’s good to know,” an index finger coiled around silver strands, and Patton’s eyes sparkled in the most literal sense, “Hey, Remus?”

Remus let his head rest on the side’s thigh, humming attentively. 

“When you say I can mess with it…”

He looked up with a delightful anticipation, grinning before Patton had even finished his sentence. 

“Can I braid your hair?” The question accompanied by a faint tug at Remus’ scalp, and the feeling of several tangles coming undone, “I’m pretty good at it. Virgil used to let me do his- not so much anymore, but, um. Anyway, yours would be long enough- or maybe longer, if I got these knots out,” he smiled, kindly, “But I know you like having it knotty, so it’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

Remus thought it over, because yeah, he was very proud of his rat’s nest. Besides, he was sure that even if it got straightened out, it’d still be just as greasy as ever- ohh, but that could be a look all on its own, couldn’t it? Maybe he could even weave some garbage into the plait! 

“Sure!” Remus assented, “The rest of me’s naughty enough to make up for the hairdo, so have at ‘er.”

Patton snorted at the pun, obviously excited to get started. When he ushered Remus to turn around, his hands easily undoing clumps of hair with surprising focus, humming to himself all the while, Remus was absolutely certain he’d made the right choice.

It was done in an hour- Patton was slow and careful about every movement. Remus didn’t really mind, though he’d try to assure Patton that it was fine to do it in a hurry, that he wasn’t so sensitive. (Patton didn’t, obviously, ignoring Remus’ comments about how it didn’t even matter because they weren’t real, and pain was a construct. Patton was stubbornly gentle, to the point that Remus couldn’t be annoyed by it. He might even say it was sweet, if he was feeling particularly sappy.)

It had also taken such time because of the decorations Patton had woven into his hair, which he insisted would be surprises. So Remus was bouncing with excitement all the way to the mirror- cuz even though he was sure it wouldn’t be anything like the live bugs, weeds, and dead flowers that he’d had in mind to thread in there himself, he knew it’d at least be pretty. Pretty wasn’t really his thing, sure, but Patton’s brand of pretty? It had grown on him.

The mirror in Remus’ room was chipped, slick with grime, and filled with silhouettes that vanished as soon as you turned around, but it worked just fine. Remus hauled himself over to it, peered in, and okay, he definitely didn’t mind a little bit of pretty.

“You weren’t fucking around when you said you were good at this, Morey!”

In their reflections, Remus saw Patton smile, going a bit pink around the ears. He glanced back to himself, eyes trailing appreciatively down the shoulder-length braid of dark, greasy hair. His grey streak wasn’t twisted in with the rest of the locks, instead it had been left out in front, springy and curly and giving the whole look a messier vibe. The braid itself seemed inky-slick, shot through with glittering hair clips and pins. At first, they looked like plain plastic jewels, but with closer inspection the shapes of tiny beetles, bugs, and moths were unmistakable. They were gorgeous, and probably a better call than putting actual live bugs in his hair; he was less likely to end up eating the sparkly clips, at any rate.

But if all that wasn’t enough, then there were the ribbons. Whip-thin and several in number, they sparkled with enough course glitter to impress a Las Vegas body paint artist. Some were a pukey neon green, and the rest a light, bright-

“Blue?”

Patton met Remus’ eyes, through the mirror again, and the pink slowly traveled from his ears down to his face. He shrugged, grazing the blue-and-green bow where the braid was tied off with the tips of his fingers. 

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he smiled lightly, “I thought it looked nice, with the green.”

Remus looked away from the glass, “You’re not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Patton shrugged, not quite making his eyes. 

“You can take those ones out, if you want to.”

That- the way Patton went flustered and shy and he’d put his colors on Remus- it gave the Duke a very strong urge to do something. The urge pulled at his chest, feeling like cracked ribs in the best way, and it really wasn’t fucking around when it wrapped around his heart and squeezed so tight it felt like it was forcing all the blood right out of him. 

Remus was used to impulses, and the powerful, mind-halting swells of emotion, but this was new and fun and it had jumped out of nowhere even for him. He was staring at Patton, and he had the urge to do something. He would’ve done it, too, if only he knew what the fuck it was that he wanted. 

It had to do with Patton. He should start there, probably.

“I’m gonna keep them in, duh,” Remus replied, finally, and his voice was way louder than it needed to be, “Wouldn’t wanna fuck up the look.” 

Patton glanced at him, smiling self-consciously, and his hand lowered from Remus’ hair to rest on his shoulder. For a moment Remus felt blind, vision white-out and trouble breathing, from whatever the fuck he was feeling, and he just didn’t know what to do.

Then Patton laughed, his ocean eyes squinted, and the burning impulse plummeted to an ache. A giddy, unfamiliar kind of ache. A manageable ache. 

Remus resolved to forget it. He had lots of instincts, and urges, and God knew that not even half of them made sense. It had left, that was what mattered, and he could enjoy the rest of his day with his friend.

He’d never been the type to worry, anyway.

There were days that Patton just… couldn’t make it out of bed. He tried, he really did, but he could only go for so long before it all started crumbling. He’d wake up, and something would just feel wrong, and he’d know that it was a doomed day, but he still made the stubborn effort to save it. Because each time he thought, maybe he’d beat it, maybe he’d make the best of it- and sometimes he did, but most of the time he made it as far as breakfast, and then he was right back in his room by noon to let the depressive episode take over.

So yeah. It was one of Those Days. 

Patton laid in bed, propped up on pillows and stuffed animals with his unfocused eyes staring just above the television. Bad days had been getting rare, and naively, Patton had thought that meant it was over for good. When he woke up that morning, Remus barely stirring beside him, the empty feeling inside was almost ignorable. 

He’d stayed above it for all of two-and-a-half hours before retreating to his room again, this time on his own.

Patton was always alone when he got in one of his moods, and he knew it was better that way. He was no fun at all, just a sad sack of blah, and he knew just how intolerable he ended up being. He couldn’t even tolerate himself.

So each time Patton would tell the other sides that he needed some space alone, and of course they respected that. Roman always hugged him before he left. Virgil checked on him every now and then. Logan, without fail, sent him extra plushies (and sweet snacks, however much he disapproved of unhealthy eating, because he knew how much sugar cheered Patton up). It didn’t fix the ache, but it helped, knowing that people were worried about him. 

But, back to that particular day; the day that left Patton huddled up at the head of his bed with blank, glazed-over eyes; the first day of its kind since Remus had been staying with him. 

It had gotten… harder, somehow. The fact that it had been gone for so long, and he’d been so optimistic, but now it was all back… 

Patton buried his face in the soft fabric of a teddy bear, shaking and crying and feeling so, so, cold.

It went on for a few horrible, horrible minutes, and then there were noises that definitely weren’t sobs. Down the hall; the slamming of a door, followed by distant muttering, and then excited footsteps. Heavy, clunky footsteps. Sounds that brought back acute deja vu, and had Patton glancing up just in time to realize what was about to happen. 

His door swung open, and Remus was grinning at him from the entrance. Patton struggled to put on a smile in time, scrubbing frantically at his eyes. 

“Hey! It’s, like, two o’clock, are you ready?”

Patton blinked up at him, partially in confusion, partially to try and stop the flow of tears. “Ready…?” 

Remus’ face fell a little, and he came forwards into the room. 

“Yeah…” Remus shut the door behind him- with less force than usual- and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. He stared intently at Patton, frown deepening all the while, pupils flitting around as he seemed to take in every detail of his friend’s condition. Patton wanted to squirm. “We were gonna- are you okay?” 

He stared dumbly at Remus for a second more, and then it clicked: they had plans today. He could barely remember what they were supposed to do- they’d been talking so quick, so excited, so happy- but Patton was pretty sure it had to do with a new creation of Remus’. 

Which was… something he definitely, definitely didn’t have the energy for. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Patton sat up straight, trying desperately to stop trembling, “I completely forgot, I just- um- I don’t know if I can make it today.”

That sounded bad, didn’t it? Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of the cake, if he hurt Remus’ feelings just because he was wallowing for basically no reason. It probably wouldn’t even be that bad if he sucked it up and went along with it anyway- except Janus kept insisting how bad self-sacrifice was, but- what else was he supposed to do!?

“Oh, it’s okay,” Remus said, not sounding hurt at all. “I’d be more pissed if I thought you were just bailing, and I know you don’t do that, Pat. Plus, you’re obviously upset, so don’t worry about it.”

  Patton glanced up to find him still staring, somehow more intense than before, and much closer than before. He looked- he looked worried. Not upset. Worried. 

“Oh,” Patton looked away again, unable to stand the scrutiny, “Okay.” 

A hand slipped into his, prying open his clenched fist, and he had to stifle a gasp at the touch. Temperature shock, that was the best word for it. Patton shivered. 

“Can I help you?”

Patton’s eyes went wide at the sweet sincerity in Remus’ voice, the way he said it as plainly and openly as he’d say anything else. Even if it wasn’t a big deal, really, with Patton’s emotions in the state that they were, while he was in his room of all places, anything could send him breaking down again.

“I- I don’t, um-” he blinked furiously, had done that a lot since Remus found him; it was beginning to make him feel dizzy. “Nothing’s really wrong…” 

Remus squeezed his hand. 

“Well, what isn’t really wrong?” 

“What?”

“You said nothing’s ‘really’ wrong, so, what’s wrong-but-not-really?”

Patton tipped his head to the side, for a moment more confused than he was aching. “How do you mean?”

But Remus just rolled his eyes- not unkindly- and shrugged. 

“So, you don’t know why you’re all… sad,” the emphasis made Patton wince, “But I figure that being sad at all usually makes other things wrong, too, and I can help with those things! For example-” he pitched forwards suddenly, ruby-reds wide and searching. He sniffed at Patton (probably not for any kind of actual inspection, but it made him laugh, and judging from Remus’ proud little smirk that had been on purpose.) “You had anything to eat? Or, uh, water? Those are supposed to be important.”

Oh, right. That. 

Patton leaned away, pulling his hand out of Remus’ grasp as he flushed abashedly. But he didn’t- well, he wasn’t going to lie to Remus.

“I guess I haven’t, no,” he tried to laugh it off- this didn’t have to be a thing, it didn’t have to be serious, if he kept laughing. If he got Remus to laugh.

But Remus was already standing, and that brought up another very effective solution; if Patton was being depressing, maybe he would just get sick of it and go. 

“Okay, we’ll start there! Wait here, I’ll be back in- ten minutes? Sure, that’s how long it takes to make food,” Remus was muttering half to himself, but it sure as heck didn’t sound like leaving.

“Oh, you don’t have to get me anything!” Patton insisted, because if Remus wasn’t escaping yet, then he wasn’t going to mooch off of his generosity. “Thanks for the reminder, I’ll- I’ll make sure to grab something soon.”

Remus stopped by the door, tipped his head from one side to the other, pretending to think it over.

“Hm. Nah.”

Patton tried to stand, and found that he was somehow too weak for even that much.

“Remus, please, I- I can’t even eat the same stuff as you, anyway! Don’t go through all that trouble for little old me,” he was edging on frantic, and he didn’t know why he was fighting so hard against receiving needed help, but it probably had something to do with Catholicism. 

Remus looked completely bewildered- a funny look, for him- and said:

“I mean, I wasn’t about to feed you hygiene products, or ceramic, or whatever. I know that I eat weird shit, Pat, that’s kind of the point- but I still know how to make a sandwich? And I know how to hold a cup under the sink so that water goes in it?” 

His voice took on a gently mocking tone. Patton glanced away, sheepish, and couldn’t find a response to that beyond a short nod.

Which was all Remus needed as the go-ahead, darting out of the room and down the stairs before Patton could argue any further. 

Patton stared after him, listened to him bustling around downstairs, and tried to feel comforted. He fell back against his pillows, breathing slow and concentrated. He was still shaking, with his previous exhaustion coming back full force. Some of the light-headedness, certainly, had to be due to the lack of eating, but he was unfortunately sure that it wasn’t even the half of it.

Patton was conflicted: He had to tell Remus that he was okay, as soon as he returned. Say thanks for the food, that it had helped, and they could spend time together tomorrow, Patton would promise. Get Remus away before it got bad, before the dam he’d built so carefully behind his eyes fell and the blue of them spilled out for hours. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie about his feelings- he knew it was bad for him, and he couldn’t keep doing it, not to someone’s face. Not somebody he cared about so much.

He wanted to let Remus stay, beg him to stay if he had to, just so he didn’t have to dig up all his long-buried emotions on his own. He wanted to pull him in and beg for help, even though he knew nothing had managed to help him before, and it was so futile. 

When the door opened some ten minutes later, Patton didn’t sit up. He didn’t even look up, scared he’d cry if he so much as moved his eyes in his own skull. 

“Hey.”

The sound of the door shutting, followed by those heavy footsteps. A soft thunk, presumably the plate of food being placed on his bedside table. Then the mattress dipped beside him, springs creaking. 

“Hey,” Remus said again, “Look at me.”

Patton rolled his head tentatively to the side. Remus was sitting with him, looking at him, his expression twisted up and solemn in all the worst ways. Patton felt the dam begin to crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I know, I know that I’m no fun when I’m like this, and we were supposed to have fun today, and I just can’t do it. I can’t, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, but if you stay here when I’m-” he broke, clamping a hand around his mouth as a sob wracked his body.. “When I’m like this, I’m just gonna ruin your day more.”

That sad look, the one that had no place being in Remus’ expression, sharpened and widened until he looked almost angry. He crawled over to Patton, prying the side’s hand away from his face and cupping his cheek, gently, all the while that scowl was in place. 

“Do you want me to go?”

Patton could barely speak, knowing that he’d just blubber and blubber, but Remus was holding him up by the shoulders and peering down at him so patiently, so carefully.

“I- I-”

“Do you want to be alone?”

He couldn’t- he couldn’t keep lying.

Patton sucked in a breath.

“No.”

Remus grinned at him proudly, pulling back until he was kneeling. He spread his arms out, an offering that Patton had become intimately familiar with. Patton pulled himself up, shaking, incredulous despite the familiarity of the situation.

“Then you don’t have to be.”

And Patton pitched forward, right into Remus’ arms, clutching and crying and trembling like a leaf.

Distantly, he knew that he was still babbling apologies. Insisting that the Duke could leave as soon as he wanted, that Patton felt this way so often and he knew he couldn’t possibly expect comfort every time, a million other sentences that ran over and into each other which only seemed to make Remus clutch him tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Remus told him.

“It’s- It’s not, I don’t even have a- a reason to be so-” a hiccup, “- upset. It’s not like last time, when you found me- I don’t even have a bad excuse, I’m just- just-”

“Shut the fuck up,” somehow, even that sounded caring. “Somebody as Hello Kitty Wholesome as you’s got no business saying such bad shit about himself.”

Patton tried to apologize again. 

“Easy, Sugar, I’ve got you.”

Patton shuddered.

“When it gets bad like this, just tell me, alright?” Remus’ hands traced up and down his spine, across his shoulder blades, down his sides, warm and full and adoring. The smile in his voice was audible, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And when Patton heard that, it was like a broken bone being set. Not fully mended, but held together enough that it could begin to heal the right way, of its own hard work, and come back twice as strong still. Remus held him so strong and it felt like a cast. 

Patton’s breakdowns were blurred memories at best, but he couldn’t have gotten that promise out of his head even if he wanted to. 

It was an achingly uneventful afternoon. Everything in the Mindpalace felt just a little out of focus, a little gray, and nothing much was going to change that except the day ending. Plain and simple, Thomas was Out Of It- and so, of course, were his sides.

On the whole it wasn’t a big deal, but it did make it downright impossible to finish any substantial work beyond menial, autopilot tasks. And creativity? Particularly for Remus, who more-or-less needed his human at full attention in order to have any creative power, it was totally hopeless. 

He wasn’t the kind of guy to work on half-power, to put it mildly. 

So, what did Remus do, when he had even less of an outlet than usual? It shouldn’t surprise you that the answer is literally anything, if it got people to pay attention to him and make him feel real again (which he wasn’t, actually, but let’s leave the semantics to Logan). What that usually amounted to- these days, at least- was talking, and talking, and more talking, and eventually somebody would probably react to something he said. Ideally. 

So on that particular gray-day, Remus sprawled himself out on the couch and waited for the first person who came by to trap in a very one-sided conversation. 

Said first person was Patton, as it happened, which was just Remus’ luck. He didn’t bother hiding how excited he was about it; Patton had always been his favorite target- of course, it was for a very, very different reason nowadays. 

Patton sat down with him as soon as he was waved over, propping a coloring book open on his knee and smiling warmly. His unoccupied hand went to wind through Remus’ hair, though, to make it abundantly obvious that despite his distraction he wasn’t ignoring the other.

Remus grinned at him, and started rambling immediately. 

And he- well, he wouldn’t really call it talking to himself, because he didn’t have a fucking clue what he was saying. But he wasn’t talking to Patton either, because that kinda defeats the purpose of a one-sided conversation. 

Which he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even listening to himself, he just needed to talk, and Patton wasn’t complaining. Remus was probably saying something unsavory, and still, there wasn’t any kind of flinching or interrupting. Patton even mhm’d and yeah’d every now and then, which was an entirely unnecessary reassurance. But Remus thought it was adorably considerate, and briefly entertained the idea of replacing that sweet little coloring book in Patton’s lap with his own self, to get some proper attention. 

(He would have, too, if he wasn’t so sure that he’d blurt out something very lewd in his stream-of-consciousness kind of mood, with a position like that, and he wasn’t sure if Patton could handle it at the moment. Morality always got a little out of whack on gray-days, too, so- loathe as Remus was to say it- better safe than sorry). 

Remus fell into the rhythm of it for, what, twenty minutes? He was bad with time, but- all he knew was he was thinking about Albert Fish, and talking about an entirely different serial killer out loud (Gacy? Bundy? It was definitely someone infamous), when the hand in his hair suddenly stilled. Patton wasn’t looking at him, either.

Remus glanced around, still talking, to find Logan standing in the kitchen doorway, staring expectantly at Patton. 

“I need you to accompany me outside for a moment. There’s something important that we-”

Patton cut him off with a wave, “Hang on for a second, Teach.” 

Logan obliged, looking bemused, and Patton turned his attention back to the still-tangenting Remus. Who was totally checked out, for the record. 

“Hey,” Patton rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly, “Pause?”

And Remus, surprised, did as asked. He didn’t care about what was going on around him, but he liked that smile, and the eyes focused in on him, so he sat up properly and tried to be quiet. Especially considering those were the first actual words Patton had said to him since he’d sat down. 

“I’m gonna go see what they need real quick,” Patton went on, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you can finish telling me about Dennis Rader then-” So that was who! “Kay?” 

Remus stared mutely at him for an embarrassing number of seconds. He eventually managed a short nod, some vague utterances of yeah, sure, go ahead, before Patton was out the door with Logan, and he was left reeling on the couch. 

Remus felt a little bit like worms had eaten holes in his brain like swiss cheese, leaving him airy-headed and dizzy. All his organs felt wormy, in fact- squirming and sick and excited about something that really shouldn’t have been a big deal- but! It was!!!

Cuz Patton had been listening? Remus wasn’t even listening! He was probably barely coherent, and he’d been at it for twenty fucking minutes, and- and-

God! He just wanted to grab that stupid adorable head of Patton’s and! He didn’t even know! Do Something, something disgusting in the nice way, something deplorably PG and lovey-dovey and- Ugh! 

Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned. He felt like a goddamn schoolgirl- and not the hentai kind, for a change, but the hopelessly infatuated, cutesy type. Feelings that were gushy, giddy, affectionately bloody. 

It was the straw that broke the camel's spine. Urges and instincts and wants that Remus hadn’t been able to name coalesced into a neon sign in his mind, flaring the answer like it’d been obvious the whole time:

Was it a crush? Remus didn’t know a better word for it, even if it wasn’t- he just knew that he was pining, and for somebody he was happy to call his friend either way. And, huh. Weird. He didn’t know he could do that. 

“I’m back, I’m back!” Patton came scrambling back into the room, jolting Remus out of his thoughts, “Sorry about that, it was- well, it’s not a big deal, something happened with The Memories and- it’s fine now- anyway, what were you saying?”

He was chattering fast, even by Remus’ Standards, an apologetic smile on his face as he sat down and settled all his attention on the Duke. 

Remus said: “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” and wondered if he’d always been that shrill? Or was he being too quiet? What did his voice sound like again?? “I, uh, I don’t remember what I was talking about.”

Patton frowned at him, and looked about ready to apologize again, and he couldn’t very well have that. So, he babbled:

“Right, it was Rader? Um. Yeah,” but that was so far out of his mind by that point, and how did people ever talk while saying things and thinking other things! “Not much to say, ya know. Killed some people, got arrested, the usual.”

“Since when don’t you give me the graphic details?” Patton complained, “That’s your favorite part!” 

“I think I’ll spare you the nightmares this time, Morey! It’s, uhm, it’s your turn to talk.” 

“Oh, hush,” and Patton laughed, shooting Remus an encouraging, coaxing smile that made him just want to debone himself. “Those serial killer stories you like so much aren’t the nightmare fuel they used to be. You know why?”

Remus felt like the inside of his skin was full of spikes. Not in a bad way. 

“...Why?” 

“Because,” Patton said, like he was all too eager to explain himself, “I can’t really be scared of them when the scariest thing is what’s in bed with me.”

Remus flushed. Like, actually-  heat crawled across his face and over his ears, and he honestly had no clue the last time something or someone had made him blush. But Patton, acknowledging his scare-factor while somehow making it obvious he felt only safe with him, was apparently what ticked that box. 

“Right,” chirped Remus, “That’s- me!”

“Of course it is, Silly,” Patton bumped their shoulders together, smiling like he had no idea what he was doing- and to be honest, he probably didn’t.

Remus drank in the contact, happily using it as an excuse to wrap his arms around Patton and pull him closer. He buried his face in Patton’s shoulder, because as far as his impulses told him, he should either get the fuck away A.S.A.P. or drag Patton in as close as possible and not let go. Obviously, Remus had a preference. 

“You- uh- I was being serious though,” ugh, God, stuttering was so goddamn annoying- how did Virgil cope? “You should talk. I’m- I’m sorta overwhelmed.”

That was the truth, or part of it. Admitting it out loud at least managed to take some of the power out of it.

Patton immediately cooed at him- it should have been annoying; it wasn’t- and wrapped him up in his arms properly, muttering little of courses and do you need anything?s. Remus melted into him, finally claiming that spot in his lap (and any jokes his mind might have had about that were long gone, by then), shaking his head and glowing under the attention. 

Of course Patton was happy- after making sure that Remus was alright- to do some of the talking. He talked about his day, what he wanted to do later, or tomorrow, and of cute things that he’d seen, and a hundred other inconsequential Patton-isms. 

Remus was unused to sitting and listening, but with him… it wasn’t as bad as the Duke remembered it being. 

Oh, he was so fucking fucked. 

Chapter Nine

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @donnieluvsthings @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @thefivecalls

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself) 

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow! 

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even. 

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.  

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.” 

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N. 

“-What do we do?”  She asks, looking with wide eyes at me. 

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.” 

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

[nightwingshero]

Claws and Fangs

My werewolf au!!! My first shot at it, but here it goes!!

Montana wasn’t the top of my list of states to visit, let alone live.  It never would have crossed my mind. I dreamed of the shiny lights of LA, Atlanta, New York, or even Paris. Never some town nobody has heard of in a state many people didn’t talk about much. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of at least seeing the National Parks was enticing, a part of nature that not many people got to see in their lifetime. But living here? Never crossed my mind.

Rowan had been right though, like she was about most things. Part of me wondered if her being just a bit older had anything to do with it, or the fact that she had seen more than I had to truly understand the reasoning behind why. I couldn’t say that Montana was terrible. Growing up in Oklahoma, farming country wasn’t exactly foreign to me. I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it. I guess it had made being what I am easier, kept the secret where it needed to be. Rowan hadn’t been so fortunate. Her brother dying only eight years prior, hunted down by our own kind.

That led us together, ironically. My father punishing me for years for what I was, or what I wasn’t, and my snapping. Rowan’s loss and her wondering without direction. She found me that night, terrified out of my mind for what I had done. She was there to clean it; she was there to make it okay. And we’ve stuck together ever since.

I sigh and shift in the passenger seat, staring off into the fields and forests that passed us by as we drove. My feet propped on the door as wind whipped through the open window. It smelled so differently here, causing my heart to race in excitement. The promising freedom of it, all this land to run on, was refreshing to think about. It smelled like sunshine and clean water. It had me practically begging for a run in ever which direction. The freedom it promised…was so tempting. A certain scent lingered in the air that I couldn’t put my finger on, a spice that tickled my nose with a hint of…sandalwood? A shiver went down my spine as I reveled in it. I wanted to follow it, roll in it, and embrace it. But we had both agreed before we got here: no changing until we got a feel for the place and settled. We couldn’t risk anything before we could have a chance to actually have a home to call ours.

The scent began to fade quickly as we crossed a bridge, the sound of the river music to my ears before something sweet floated into our car. I rubbed my nose after sneezing, trying to adjust to the sudden change. We slowed before Rowan pulled into a gas station, shutting the car off at the pump with a sigh. Being cramped up in a small space for hours on end was hard, even with me being claustrophobic. It was never good for anyone, making their joints sore and themselves stir crazy. It was even worse for us; it drove us insane. We weren’t meant to be in confined spaces, it was against our very nature. I could feel the desperate urge to whine and pace, to hide in the woods and never come out. But I knew better. And if I had to be fairly honest, the other side of me liked car rides. They just never last long.

“I’m gonna go pay for gas. Want to grab some snacks for us?” Rowan asked, her dark brown eyes meeting my blue green once, and I can see the toll this has on her, too.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I replied, the dryness in my throat becoming more and more obvious. I opened the door, tugging at the cut off shorts that Rowan insisted would help us fit in. Which was why I had a blue flannel tied around my waist, instead of wearing the leather jacket that was now packed away. We didn’t want to appear too suspicious, and if that meant a change in wardrobe, then so be it. She rolled up the sleeves of the red flannel as we walked towards the store, and I could feel the heat of the sun on my exposed arms as the cool breeze swept in to soothe it.

The bell above the door rang as we entered, a blast of cool air washing over us. I could hear the unit running raggedly in the back, and I didn’t think it would last much longer. The old man at the counter looked up from his outdoors magazine and narrowed his eyes, but we pretended not to notice. Rowan moved to the counter, taking some cash from her back pocket. I made my way down the aisles, noting the jerky and off brand pastries that I knew had to be somewhat stale at this point. I sneered slightly at the smell of the preservatives. I could almost gag.

Finally making it to the back, I pull open a cooler door to grab a couple waters. I raised a brow at the lack of a biting chill before letting the door slam shut. I weigh my options as I eye the snacks one more time, feeling the gaze of the old man on me as Rowan waited. I caved, grabbing the jerky and some chips. Something was better than nothing, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. I round the corner and come up on a shelf of brochures on my left. I slow, taking them in. Some were for the national park in the Henbane, the hiking up North in the mountains, an apple orchard in the Valley east of us, and a haunted house tour of an old hotel.

A colorful pink one in particular caught my attention enough to grab it on the way. I stuff it in my back pocket before approaching the counter, setting the rewards of my hunting trip down for the cashier. His eyes narrow again before he starts scanning, grumbling, and his eyes drop to the line of my tank top. I almost growl and make a show of my teeth to give this man something to really look at, but I know better. So, I just clear my throat and glare back.

He rolled his eyes before telling Rowan our total. She hands it over with a smile, thanking him and telling him to keep the change before we’re finally making our way back outside. I settle back in the passenger seat while Rowan pumps the gas. I stick my Converse out the window as I lean back, pulling the jerky out of the plastic bag. My mouth waters, but I know that as soon as I eat it, I’ll be disappointed. It had been too long since we last hunted, not daring to take the risk of being tracked down. It made me restless.

The driver’s door opened as Rowan sat back in, fastening her seatbelt as she went. “There. That should hold us for a while. At least it can give us time to find somewhere else to go where I won’t have to be worried about being killed or kidnapped. Was I the only one getting a Cabin in the Woods vibe from that guy?”

I hum before I pull out the brochure from my pocket. “I pity any serial killer that tries to pull that shit on us. We bite back.” I flip it open, scanning and reading.

“Not really my taste.”

I chuckled and turned to her. “Hey, check this out.” I show her the hot pink trifold.

“Drubman Marina?” Rowan asked with a crinkle of her nose. “Like, I know you like the water, Wren, but I think we should probably find a place to live before we think about buying a boat. And I’m not really down for a houseboat. I’m sorry, I draw the line there. We agreed.”

“No, I know.” I flipped it open, pointing as I go. “She’s a real estate agent, and she’s right in the Henbane region. I don’t think she’s that far…” I trail off as I pull out a Hope County map that we had gotten at the visitor’s center right out of the county line. My eyes wondered over the Holland Valley region briefly, the memory of the scent there. Curiosity gnawed at me as I traced a road the small town, Fall’s End.

“It looks like she’s actually on the border of the Whitetails. Maybe she’ll know of some lodging up that way, something that can tide us over until we find something more permanent. It’ll give us a chance to get to know the area, too.”

“Yeah.” I replied, breaking from my trance. “I wonder if she takes walk ins.”

Rowan turned the key, the engine coming to life. “Guess we’re going to find out.”

 “This is exciting! Y’know, we never get newcomers. I always have to deal with people who’ve lived here all their lives. Never get to show people the wonders of this treasure state of ours.” The blonde goes on as she shuffles through the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet, her back to us and bent in her chair. She pops her gum, the smell of cotton candy strong and I have to find my happy place. I could handle sweet, it wasn’t an issue, but it was so heavy in the Henbane. Mix it with the sweetness of Adelaide Drubman, and suddenly I was overwhelmed by it.

Seeming to find what she was looking for, she straightens and turns back to us, dropping the file heavy on her desk, making Rowan and I jump. “There we go! I have all kinds of stuff in this damn thing, let’s see if I can find what y’all are lookin’ for. Let’s start with regions. Now, each one has a special charm, and I’m Henbane’s.” She joked with a wink and a smile on her pink-painted lips.

“We actually did some research beforehand and had an idea of where.” Rowan chimed in with a polite smile. I could see just a hint of disappointment in Adelaide’s crystal blue eyes, but that doesn’t deter her.

“Which one did you ladies settle on?” The itching came back, that little gnawing at the back of my mind, and as Rowan answered, I impulsively blurted out mine, too.

“Whitetail—”

“Holland Valley.”

Adelaide’s brow raised as Rowan whipped her head around, her eyes scanning my face as I glance back at her. Her eyes show confusion and just a bit of concern. She cast a look at the blonde. “Can we…?”

“Oh, you go right ahead, darlin’.” Adelaide turned away, looking through her stack as Rowan’s attention fell back on me.

“Wren…I thought we talked about this. We both agreed. The Whitetails are better for us, it’s more…isolated. There would be more privacy, and it could be better hunting.” Rowan whispered, eyeing Adelaide here and there, the blonde humming lightly to herself.

Guilt bubbled inside, because she was absolutely right. We both agreed, it was a part of our plan. The Whitetails would offer us the sanctuary we needed. The Henbane was the second choice. Rangers and hikers to the north and east. Protected land that we desperately needed. Holland Valley was never an option, the chance of there not being enough cover for the both of us there. It was too open. But for some reason, I couldn’t get that damn scent out of my mind.

I leaned closer to Rowan, dropping my voice. “I know, and I’m sorry. But…did you not smell that on our drive through?”

Her dark brows furrowed. “Smell what?”

I sigh lightly, contemplating and frustrated. This wasn’t something that happened with us, being on different pages. Doubt began to eat at my insides. “I know it sounds crazy, but I smelled something strong and just…god, it was so enticing. I’ve never smelled anything like it before.”

Adelaide coughs a bit as Rowan tilts her head in contemplation. “We can check it out when everything is settled, I promise. But I think we should stick to the other two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You know,” Adelaide gave us a look with her brow raised. “Some of these dipshits out here might still be ignorant, but there are still a good majority of us that support your lifestyle, dears.” She smirks, a knowing look piercing us and the hairs on the back of my neck raise.

“Oh, no,” Rowan laughed before gesturing between us. “We’re not a couple. We grew up together.” Adelaide only hums, but I can tell that her words held a double meaning, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Her face becomes a mask of shock, something ingenuine about it as it doesn’t truly meet her eyes. She shrugged and continued. “Well, I’m just saying. So, any special fellas out there for yah?”

“No.” Rowan asked with a frown, both of us a bit shocked at the question.

“Really? You two are gorgeous, I’m shocked.” She laughed, and we give each other a quick glance. We say nothing, but we both know it’s not without some sort of effort. Packs, wolves in general, were dwindling in America. Or so we’ve gathered. They migrated North or overseas, or just died off. Being rogues put targets on our backs, but being unmated females made it so much worse. Female rogues that were unmated didn’t last very long, either claimed quickly or killed. The fact we made it this far was a miracle within itself, and one that wasn’t without bloodshed.

I smiled in response. “Dating isn’t really our thing. We decided to travel and just focus on what we want to do.” I lied smoothly. Adelaide sighed wistfully.

“Oh, to be young again. I envy you girls. What I would give to just pick and go wherever.”

“It’s freeing.” Rowan replied, and I nodded. It was freeing. Not being tied to a pack, or a male with too much testosterone for his own good. I think that was what made my lip curl the most. The males reeked of testosterone. Some made me gag more than others. Rowan said it had something to do with compatibility. A female’s sense of smell had a tendency to be more…sensitive than males. While all females smelled sweet to them, some were too sweet. That’s how her brother described it. Males smelled too musky sometimes, the less compatible, the worse it was. The more compatible, the stronger the pull. But at the end of the day, they were so full of themselves that even without the smell, they were repulsive. I enjoyed tearing into each and every one of them. “So, we’re thinking the Whitetail Mountains—”

Adelaide held her hand up, stopping Rowan in midsentence. “I love the mountains, dear. Absolutely. Any other time, I would be the first to suggest it.”

“But…?” I asked, eyeing her as she leaned forward.

“But I’m going to be real honest with you, girl to girl, I don’t think it’s the best fit for you right now.” I raised a brow, my pride and wrath clawing up at not liking to be told what to do. I fought to keep my teeth from showing. I counted to ten, did everything I could to calm the beast. Rowan threw me a side look, a shocked warning in her eyes. Careful. I knew that, and I was just as shocked as she was. I hadn’t been this worked up in a long time. I had long since gotten a control of that side of me. Now, the littlest thing was setting me off into a frenzy. Adelaide’s eyes looked at me curiously before continuing. “Not that I don’t think you strong, independent girls can’t do whatever you wanted, I’m just saying that the mountains and valley might be a bit…dangerous.”

“Dangerous? How?” Rowan asked with a slight scoff and hid my smirk behind my hand. Little did Adelaide know, there was nothing in this county more dangerous than the two women in front of her.

Adelaide shrugged. “Some people don’t take kindly to new folk. And you said you wanted to go somewhere isolated. The mountains are unforgiving, ladies. Things go bump in the night there and in the valley. This region offers both decent isolation, and great views. The sheriff’s station is also in this area, so if anything happens, you have a faster response. Besides, anything out of this region, you’ll have to go through John Seed when it comes to land. A lawyer makes things a bit more complicated, dears. Makes the process go a bit longer. And I don’t know if y’all want that. Trust me, I think you would love it here. Besides, we could be neighbors!”

Rowan and I share one last look, contemplating. The doubt was there, for sure. Trusting a total stranger, someone who would have absolutely no idea as to what we were and what we could do, over our own paranoia. But getting a lawyer involved was out of the question. It raised too many flags, and we needed to stay as off the grid as possible. We needed safety; it was the whole point of being here. To find a home we could reside without being discovered, and we were in an unknown territory. The choice was obvious, and we both came to that understanding without a word.

  It took us a week to get everything settled legally and moved in. I eventually got used to overly sweet scent, my nose only burning here and there. Adelaide and her boy toy, Xander, had graciously offered to help us. She was starting to grow on me more and more as time went on. She showed us the best place to go shopping, to get fresh meat, and highly recommended a pizza place not too far off the way. Our first night running was short and cautious, getting a feel for the land.

We stocked up on supplies, not having anything else better to do. Rowan applying for the newest park ranger posting, insisting it would help us blend in and establish some sort of roots here. I didn’t know how I felt about that, having been on the move all these years. I felt dizzy while everything seemed to finally slow down around us. I didn’t really think we could ever be able to do this, to have some sort of semblance of normality in our lives. It gave me hope.

The air was crisp, the sky full of stars as we got out of the car. The 8 Bit Pizza bar was busy and in full swing, even at eight in the evening. Outside, we could see Addie’s son and nephew, Hurk Jr and Boshaw, drinking beer and laughing away. They had helped us move furniture in, Adelaide not taking no for an answer. I opened my mouth to say something, but I froze, my feet coming to an immediate stop as the scent hits my nose. My mouth twists in distaste as Rowan’s nose crinkles. We both look, our guard up and prepared for anything.

I spot a cruiser at the end of the parking lot, closer to the forest. Two men, one older and the other younger, stood close and whispering urgently to each other. Even with my enhanced hearing, the noise from the establishment made it nearly impossible to hear what they were saying. Before Rowan and I move to leave, the older man caught our eyes and his head tilted to the side. His companion whipped his head around, taken in what had caught the old man’s attention.

He’s not unattractive, his tan skin and messy, swept back hair. He rolls his shoulders back, his chest puffing out a bit in the process. I sigh internally, because it was a show we’ve seen before, and I wonder who is the first one to die. Males didn’t typically take rejection well, despite how desperately we wanted peace. I’m trying to figure out a way to get out of this unscathed when the younger wolf turns and flashes his teeth, teasing and showing off.

My reaction is instantaneous. It wasn’t as much of an aggressive move as it was a way for him peacock. His way of putting himself on display while still in his skin. His way of flirting and an attempt to impress, a common move for most males. It wasn’t new to me. But the wolf was clawing inside, offended and aggravated at his audacity. It’s disrespectful to her, and she won’t stand for it. I’m shaking, fighting the instinct to go for the throat, and not for a mate’s mark. My teeth flash, promising violence and death if he dares to take another step.

Rowan squeezes my arm firmly, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention, but everyone is pretty much inside. Hurk and Sharky too plastered to comprehend what’s going on this far away. “What the hell are you doing? Wren, calm down.” She whispers harshly, softly pulling at my arm.

I wished I could answer her, but I couldn’t. I was consumed with rage and I honestly had no fucking clue what was wrong with me. I just knew this male was beneath us, unwanted, and he deserved to be put down until his throat was bare in submission. I wince, doing what I can to rein it in. I didn’t want a scene or to start off on the wrong foot. Something was wrong with me, and I needed to get my shit together. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

The older man stalks towards us with purpose, his eyes hard, and it reminds me of a time when my father did the same. The everything, the anger and offense, evaporates immediately and fear replaces it. I hated males with a passion. I hated their need to be in control, feeling more powerful than anyone else.

“Rogue females? Don’t see that every day.” His voice is gravely as he grumbles, and he spits to the side. “Name’s Dutch.”

“Didn’t think there were any more wolves around here.” Rowan replied icily as she glared at him, and he shrugs.

“There are more wolves in the North, girl. Don’t know where you come from, but we’re around up here. Maybe should’ve thought about that.”

“Noted.”

His friend finally came up to join him, and I fight to snap at him. His eyes are twinkling in amusement, as if I was nothing but a piece of entertainment for him. “Unmated females, at that. You know, that won’t last long with you being on your own.”

I sneer at him and his taunting. Dutch rolls his eyes. “Forgive this dumbass here, Pratt isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.” Pratt shot him a look, but the older man ignored him. “He’s right though. You passing through or staying?”

Rowan and I share a look, unsure of how to respond, before she throws her chin up high. “Staying. And we don’t intend on leaving anytime soon.”

Pratt let out a low whistle as Dutch rubs his bald head thoughtfully. “Ain’t no one asking you to leave, girlie. Relax.” He held his hands in surrender. “Just thought you could use some friends, I’m sure you’re a bit short on those.” When we don’t say anything, he sighs and continues. “Look, we aren’t the only ones here. I’m offering you a friendship, here.”

“You don’t know us.” I blurted, eyeing him up and down, trying to size him up as my instincts kicked in. He was a strong beta and could possibly pass for an alpha status. He carried himself as if he was a leader, more than what was pumping through his veins. Pratt was no better; except I knew that beta was all he could ever be. “What’s in it for you?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Everyone starts off not knowing each other real well, don’t they? I figured maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a makeshift pack. Rogues don’t last long on their own, which is why I’m sure you two are running around together.” I shift uneasily, because he’s not wrong. When my father died, I had felt it. I had felt the loneliness of being without a pack, or at least someone. Rowan and I had stuck together ever since, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel the pull, the desperate need for more than what we had.

“And what? Are you supposed to be the head of it?” Rowan asked genuinely, and I held my scoff to myself as he smiled at her.

“Of course. And I take care of my own.” He reached his hand out. “Friends?”

We both hesitate, unsure of what to do in this situation. Both of them together is making me want to gag, their scents mingling and making me want to hurl. Maybe at one time, Pratt would’ve smelled more appealing to me, his pine undertone with a crisp scent I can’t pinpoint. But it’s not good enough, not anymore. I can feel myself looking down on him, despite him being a bit taller.

Rowan sighed, her hand grasping his. “Friends.” I follow suit, offering him, and him alone, a polite smile. This male is no threat to us, not showing a bit of interest like his partner. It’s easier to make friends with strangers who haven’t offended you.

“Word of the wise, ladies.” He said, holding up his pointer finger. “Stay clear of those mountains and that valley. Like I said, we’re not the only wolves around here. I have some land, an island in the center of the county. You’re more than welcome to stop by whenever you want.”

Adelaide calls to us, making Rowan and I jump out of our skins. The blonde eyes Dutch with a sickly-sweet smile, malice shining in her bright blues. I’m taken aback by it, knowing nothing but kindness from the woman. She motions us forward, beckoning us to join her and her family inside. We part ways with the males, eager for the escape, and Addie doesn’t follow us in until she sees them leave. She turns to us, lips pursed.

“Be careful, ladies. You’re better off in the Valley or Whitetails than to hang around him. Trust me, he’s not what he claims to be.”

  “So, we agree?” Rowan asked on our drive home. “That we keep our fucking heads down. I do my job at the springs, you do whatever. I heard of a deputy posting at the jail, wouldn’t hurt. But either way, we stay the fuck away from whatever is going down. Right?”

“Why don’t we just leave?” I ask, glancing at Rowan. “It’s been a week, and we’ve already stepped into a werewolf soap opera. I don’t know about you, but I could do without dramatics. Or that pup sniffing around.” I sneer.

Rowan scoffed. “Is this about the drama or the male?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“I like it here.” Rowan admitted. “I think it’s pretty and it could do us some good. There’s an older wolf here that seems to mean well. And it wasn’t like we were running eager to Holland Valley or the Whitetails. Sure, we contemplated it, but we know the area better now.”

I frowned and I picked at the edge of my t-shirt. “What about that scent? The one I caught when we were driving through the valley?”

“It could’ve been a fluke, Wren. Maybe it’s best to stay in the Henbane, you know?” she sighed and glanced at me. “You wanna talk about what happened back there?”

I turned, looking out the window as I shrug. “I have no clue. I haven’t lost control like that in a long time. It just bothered me, you know? I felt like he wasn’t…good enough.”

“When hasn’t that been the case for either of us?” Rowan laughed.

“It was different this time.” I turned back to her; my brow furrowed. “I, my wolf, got offended, Rowan. In the worst possible way.”

Rowan frowned. “Wren, he didn’t really do anything…insulting. It’s a typical practice in our nature, especially with males.”

“I know. Ro, I think there’s something wrong with me.” I glance at my hands, the dark vine tattoos contrasting on my light skin. “I was so ready to rip this guy apart, to make him submit. I’ve never felt like that before, you know?”

“And you’re sure you don’t have alpha blood in you?” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Positive.” I sighed with a roll of my eyes. “Maybe…maybe I’m just stressed from the long drive and the change of moving, you know? I just need time to adjust.” I couldn’t tell who I was trying to convince more: Rowan or myself.

[gilbertslayer]

jeremy gilbert (steven r mcqueen) has been seen in the town square of mystic falls. the 30/44-year-old, vampire is in town because he returned years ago after the death of elena and damon to raise their kids . rumor has it they are + compassionate and + loyal but also – impulsive and – doubting but the real thing you need to know is that he recently turned someone into a vampire and is struggling how to be a good sire. who knows what the people of mystic falls will think when they find that out?

what is your character doing in mystic falls (e.g. their job, reason for being here and when they moved here)? 

Jeremy moved back to mystic falls 10 years ago for a visit after elena died in labor and then stayed to help damon. only to stay forever when damon died. he kept his job in advertising for a few years but when trying to raise a group of pre-teens, it was hard, he ended up giving it up and running the mystic grill instead.

for canons also add a little summary of what they have been doing over the last 20 years since we last saw them in canon? 

Jeremy left tvd before the end of the show when he was 19 saying that he was heading to Santa Fe, New Mexico to go to art school but instead he headed out into the world to go hunter. 5 years later when elena woke from her magical coma, he returned for a time to make sure that elena was safe and happy. before his hunter gene sent him out into the world again as he still felt the urge to kill and it was something that stopped him from settling down. 

he huntered and travelled the world; once coming face to face with a creature that he thought didn’t actually exist. he used his skills to both killing bad hunters and the bad supernatural in turn. he did this for 6 long years and honestly he was tired. tired of the hunters mark driving him to a life that he felt like he didn’t get a choice in. but it was the life he had. 

a few months after his 30th birthday, he was hunting a coven of dark witches that were murdering people for power and when trying to help the future murder victims escape, the witches set fire to the house, trying to burn them all to the ground and destroy the evidence. ended up at the location of a house fire. Jeremy trying to save the people/children inside, Jeremy didn’t flee to save himself and went into the fire, trying to drag everyone out. the last being a 7 year old child. by the the fire department turned up, his was on his death bed., fighting for life. his family was called and they were told to say their good byes. 

his family and friends not wanting him to die, fed him vampire blood to try and heal him but over night he died anyway and was returned as a vampire. jeremy felt like for the first time he had control over his life again. he took a few years to come to turns with being a vampire and decided to do that outside of mystic falls. 

 he went to art school, he kept being a hunter, he built a life, had an apartment and had a good job. but as any vampire he knew people would soon start to notice that he doesn’t age and so when elena and damon both died, he returned to mystic falls to raise their kids when he was 35.

tells us more about your characters secret and why they don’t want anyone to know it?

jeremy as a vampire still ended up find people in life and death situations, in this situation jeremy ended up giving them his blood to heal them (and then they were possibly/ died in some way that didn’t have to do with jeremy). the new vampire turned up at the gilbert home, pissed off and confusion and in transition. jeremy not wanting to leave them to work it out on their own, is trying to be a good sire and help them.

he doesn’t know why exactly it’s a secret to him that it was his blood that turned them. after all all he had been doing was keep this person alive but still he feels bad for focusing someone into this life that they weren’t prepared for.

any wanted connections and plots you want for your character!

exes: he is single now but exes as the guy travelled around. or one night stands as he was travelling around the world. maybe a more steady relationships that he was in before turning into a vampire (with a hunter that wanted him to take the cure and turn back) or someone he has been dating recently and it’s on a break because he hasn’t told them about the supernatural or they are human and he is a vampire and they want to start doing human things like get married and have kids. or we can plot as we go. i would maybe even do an ex wife or ex fiancee with the right plot!

the child he saved: if someone wants to take this up as like an adopted child connection, i’m down for it. otherwise just the connection that he saved this person and died doing it (optional if they even know they are the reason he is a vampire). they would now be 21 years old. 

the person he turned: he is pretty set on wanting to help this person work like the vampire way of life, so i would love this connection for a little drama for him. 

[split-n-splice]

"When you went from hero to villain, that must have been like an epic change. I mean, you're on a new path with no idea what comes next. Wasn't that kind of scary?" That line really got me thinking. Too much. So much that this happened. Villain origin story time, anybody?

Chapters: 6 Words: 26k Warnings: violence, language

[Chapter Guide | Ao3 | FFn ]

Chapter 1 - Proposition

A sustained bioluminescent glow like a green torch radiating from her palm was enough to light her way, allowing the young woman to purposefully walk the fog line of a quiet wooded highway after dark. It was times like this, when it actually benefited her and her alone, that she felt an inkling of gratitude for her gift. Although tonight it was in part because of the so-called gift that she was out here at all, so she couldn’t be all that thankful.

She’d had a bad day, to put it lightly. That was nothing new. She was parched. Her feet were sore from walking. Her stomach filed persistent complaints, and her jaw was still sore from being kicked by a man in a red jumpsuit, the blow having sent her flying out a gaping hole in a wall from three stories up. Her backside hurt a little too from the landing, but she fixated on walking the line to distract herself from the aches of the day. She was used to having the snot kicked out of her. She was expected to walk it off.

The ruffled young lady wasn’t a particularly pretty sight to see hitchhiking down an eerie highway in the dark. The rips in her clothes weren’t for fashion’s sake any more than the smudges of blood and dirt from the earlier skirmish were, and the scowl she reflexively shot to anyone who dared to slow down didn’t scream friendly or safe to pick up.

She was capable of heroic feats, but hitching a ride evidently wasn’t included in her skill set. Not looking like this anyway, and not when she was bitter enough to punch the throat of the next person who looked at her funny.

Though she may have been a wreck tonight, she stood tall and carried on because she had no choice unless she wanted to forfeit yet more dignity to wear the mask of a damsel in distress. Or worse, go home to bear her family’s lectures over a number of things – fighting solo and without her suit, minor theft, and staying out past curfew to name a few. It was too soon for her to tolerate any of that. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.

She smirked as she fantasized never looking back, but that’s all it was. A fantasy. A wistful hope. She always went back after a day or two. She was duty-bound, so she had to eventually.

But not yet. She’d take her time this time.

She wasn’t sure where she’d go when she reached the next town, but she supposed she’d work out that detail when she got there. It was still only a far-off glow on an indistinct horizon, barely visible through the corridor of leafy trees. She’d been walking for so long already, and it was still so far, that she began to wonder if she’d even make it there by morning.

She guessed she must be at least halfway between the two cities when she decided she’d earned a break. She almost hoped that by sitting down on the fog line, she could give someone a bad day on the off chance she had a close call with a vehicle.

Head hanging between her knees, she sat long enough for the chill of the night to sink in. She might have nodded off there if she’d let herself, but instead she heaved a sigh and sat back, digging in her pocket for something to stave off the drowsiness. A flicker of green fire spouted from her fingertip, her unnatural flame coming altogether too naturally these days, but the crumpled cigarette hadn’t even touched her lips when a quiet hum caught her attention, and she turned to squint into what had now become a pair of blinding headlights approaching fast.

Go on, hit me. Do it, I dare ya, the young woman thought to herself, averting her eyes from the light now. Nonetheless, she tensed, ready to jump out of the road, and it was second-nature for a hand to curl into a fist with volatile energy coiling in her palm, preparing to release a blast that might save her life if it came to that.

Knowing she’d been spotted when the rumble of the engine softened, she relaxed a little. For the first time tonight, a driver didn’t simply slow down to gawp at her. The vehicle came to a full stop and she grit her teeth when she actually felt a twinge of apprehension.

The stealthy quiet of the idling vehicle made her suspect her brothers, and the thought might’ve granted her a moment of comfort – but whatever relief the notion gave her evaporated in the next moment.

A door popped open behind her, and as if that wasn’t enough to draw her attention, the driver called curtly, “Are you getting in or not?”

Yeah, he was definitely no brother of hers.

She stood, discarding the crumpled cigarette into the dark with a careless flick. The black SUV she faced now gleamed faintly, blending suspiciously well into the night, and she paused at the open passenger door to peer into the eerie vehicle. The blue glow from the dash shined off the lenses of the spectacled man inside, and she could make out a raised lip.

He didn’t look so friendly or safe himself.

“You sure about picking me up?” she wondered coldly as she scanned for signs of danger. For all she knew, this was a creep just looking to off her out here. It was certainly deserted enough on the highway this time of night that he could get away with just about anything if she didn’t have a surprise that packed a hell of a punch. Axe murderer or good citizen, she remembered she could handle anything thrown at her, so she decided she didn’t care so much about her safety anymore.

“Just get in, kid,” said the stranger.

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Nonetheless, she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a kid, mister,” she shot wryly. Depending on who you asked, she wasn’t technically a minor anymore. Offense aside, she climbed in, not taking her sidelong stare off the dark figure as she took up the passenger seat.

The man scoffed when she reached for her seatbelt. She paused. “What?” she demanded in reflex, her nerves urging her that maybe she shouldn’t trap herself in here. She opted out of wearing it now.

“Nothing,” assured the man, waving it off. “So, where to?”

“Arriville.”

“Really? Wouldn’t you rather go home?”

If her team’s headquarters wasn’t advertised in Go City’s bay, the stranger’s question might have been more concerning. More and more people were recognizing her outside of her hero getup, so the assumption she lived in the other direction wasn’t completely alarming. It was more annoying than anything.

She took her eyes off the driver for a moment to glare at the dashed center line flicking by at a leisurely pace. When she didn’t reply, he must have mistook her silence as a yes because he made a U-turn.

The very idea that he was planning to take her back to Go City rekindled a fury in her.

She acted on impulse, lashing out with an unformed plan in mind involving hijacking the car. She’d been wholly prepared to slam him in the throat with a searing-hot fist to shove him out the door while he choked – but a pressure against her forehead, the silhouette in her glow, a click—

The dubious superhero froze up in an instant, her lethal hand still a few sparing inches from the man’s throat, and she glared into the cold sidelong stare the man held her in. As a superhuman mutant freak used to coming out on top, it was infuriatingly humbling to be at some creep’s mercy – and he wasn’t even in some gaudy getup. The tasteless unoriginality of an elementary handgun was all the more infuriating.

Still, the threat was clear-cut when there was no guesswork and little doubt of a revolver’s capabilities at point-blank.

Until now, miraculously, she had never been this intimate with the receiving end of any such crude firearm. She was accustomed to the ludicrous weapons of self-proclaimed masterminds and their more creative hands-off homicide approach. Given she couldn’t pick up on even the slightest tremble clued her in that this man had either a proficient poker face or really had no qualms with blowing her brains out in his nice new SUV, if it was even his at all.

By how fast he’d drawn, he must have been expecting to be threatened. He didn’t look especially surprised by her glow either, although she saw sweat dampening his brow in the momentary standoff.

“Don’t make me resort to this, kid,” the man asked, more tired than pleading. “I’d never get the stain out.”

The driver did not retract his weapon until she extinguished her glow and put away her own. As if to warn her not to try attacking again, he set the revolver on the dash above the wheel, close enough for him to snatch it if she made a second attempt.

Crossing her legs and slumping back, she tentatively settled in and tucked her hands under her pits. Leery and leaning as far from the driver as possible, she surveyed him.

As far as suspicious men went, he didn’t look particularly intimidating, at least not by her standards. Not bulky and muscular like the goons she’d beaten up earlier. He was just a sort of average guy in a suit, greasy mop resting unprofessionally around his shoulders, and he wore glasses pushed up on his little nose like a nerd. If she had to guess, he kept the gun close at hand to compensate for being so otherwise nonthreatening.

He may have been watching the road, but she had a queasy feeling he still held his attention on her. Knowing now the man had a gun handy for self-defense or other, and potentially the guts to pull a trigger, she decided it was in her best interest to bail the first chance she had.

She would have been content in waiting out the ride in silence, but the stranger apparently didn’t feel the same. Dark eyes wandered back to her and the man cleared his throat, piping up, “Shego, isn’t it?”

“Who’s asking?” she retorted. She wanted to evade that question, but she’d snipped before she could tell herself to keep her mouth shut.

“That’s not your real name, is it?” he jabbed, amused.

She shot him a quick scowl but was quiet. Her name wasn’t information she went around sharing with just anyone. Certainly not to strange men who recognized her as one of the local heroes.

“Fair enough,” accepted the driver, albeit displeased. He chewed on his next words for a moment before extending a hand. “Dr. Drakken,” he introduced.

She didn’t shake his hand. She harrumphed instead and slumped a little further, grumbling, “That’s a stupid name.”

“Really? I thought it sounded quite menac— nevermind. We’re getting off track here.”

She didn’t know what track that was, but she did know she didn’t want to be on it.

The man wiped his face as if to start over with a clean slate, and then looked his passenger over, catching her arching an eyebrow at him. “I heard about your showdown earlier at that college campus. I heard you lost.”

Jabbing at sore spots was a guaranteed way to get on her bad side. Trying not to let it show the remark bugged her, Shego merely scoffed. “Just because I didn’t deal the last blow doesn’t mean I lost,” she said confidently, recalling being literally kicked out of the building. “They were busted, so I win. Besides, I had somewhere better to be.”

“Like stumbling along the highway in the dark?” Dr. Dragon-or-whatever mocked.

“What’s it to you?” she snapped back at him.

The driver shrugged. “It’s funny. You pickpocketed earlier, too,” he went on wryly, ignoring her tense and her frown harden. “Yet by the way you ran in to stop those thieves earlier, I’d think you were some sort of hero.”

Shego wasn’t sure what to make of him playing dumb. He’d called her out on her alias already, and frankly she was too fed up with her superior’s stupid rules about secret identities to give a damn that the stranger recognized her without her foolish mask and uniform.

Instead of lashing out a second time, she only groaned and glared out the passenger window, watching the man’s faint reflection watching her. “This is why I don’t like the hero scene,” she carped. “Everyone knows everything.”

“I suppose the deputy I interviewed was right then. You are a hero,” said the driver, clearly amused.

“Doy,” she huffed. “Like you didn’t know.”

“You know, actually, I didn’t,” the man piped scathingly. She couldn’t tell if he was lying. “I’m from out of town, you see. Only here on business.”

“What? Journalism?” she retorted. After all, the man looked geeky enough for the job, and if he was chatting it up with officers at the scene of the crime – well, she’d been dogged by the media enough to take a guess.

For a second, Shego wondered how bad it would hurt if she jumped out of a vehicle going sixty down the highway. And then, as if he’d read her mind, the man hit a button and the doors locked with a muffled click. No big deal. She could still break a window and maybe – maybe still get shot. Reconsidering her journalist theory, her eyes narrowed at the revolver and then back to Dr. Kraken-whatever’s face.

“Then how did you know I live in Go City?” she challenged.

He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

Even if she sensed he was telling the truth, there was something inherently untrustworthy about the man.

Shego turned her frown back to the road. If she could hold tight for a few more minutes, they’d be back in Go City, and then maybe she could make a break for it without having to resort to violence.

She was ready to give the stranger the silent treatment until then, but then he hunched forward to peer past her curtain of raven hair, squinting his eyes at her in the dark. She refused to meet his probing stare.

He hummed amicably, sitting back and stroking his chin. “You seem like troubled youth, yes?” he guessed, but she didn’t confirm. “When the man in blue stopped you from shoplifting earlier, I overheard you threaten to run away.” The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. When had he overheard that? She was giving a determined cold shoulder, but felt his eyes cast over her again. The knucklehead wasn’t going to let the conversation drop. “That’s why you’re out here, isn’t it?” he pressed. “I think I can help you. It could work out well for the both of us. I could use some assistance—”

At that, Shego tensed and wished she could scoot even closer to the door, but she was practically plastered against it already. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of an alarmed glance. “Forget it,” she said venomously, cutting him off. “Try Plymouth Avenue for cheap chicks.”

It took a moment before the spectacled geek grunted in displeasure. “Pass,” he dismissed, flapping a hand.

Shego sat up straight now, turning to fix him in an inquiring glare. “Care to elaborate on what kind of assistance you’re in need of then?” she asked crossly, then she wished she hadn’t. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut – and maybe threatened him to keep his shut too.

“Well if you had let me finish,” grumbled the man.

“Go on, I won’t interrupt,” she interjected with a small smirk at the flicker of annoyance shot her way.

“It’s simple. I need better lackeys,” the sketchy nerd clarified with a note of lingering distaste. He rubbed his temple and sighed. “That means thief, guard, gofer – a hand wherever one is needed. Henchmen for hire these days are all a bunch of klutzes. But you…” His face split with a grin. “You’re different. I have a good feeling about you.” He sounded optimistic as he shook a finger at her. She wanted to swat it away. Maybe break it.

Resisting the impulse, she scoffed. “Yo, did you miss the part about me being a hero?” And why the hell would she ever resign herself to being a grunt anyway?

“But are you really?” he shot at her wryly, and it made her falter.

Shego sized him up. The revolver on the dash served as a clue that this wasn’t some lame reporter baiting her bad habits into light for the sake of bogus gossip that passed as media coverage. And if he was – well, he’d soon learn he was going about it the wrong way. Gun or not, she wasn’t about to divulge anything to some strange man she met on a lonely highway.

And yet, better judgment aside, her interest was undeniably piqued. She kept a stony stare. “What makes you think I’m cut out for that line of work?” Furthermore, had this turned into a job interview?

“I saw with my own eyes you pickpocket a wallet and pack of smokes earlier,” stated the spectacled man. “Right before that fellow in tights came to hassle you in the convenience store over a candy bar.”

Big deal. Pickpocketing and shoplifting was nothing. She’d done worse under the guise of Shego. Headlines worse. Her reputation going sour was no secret. She almost told him so.

Instead she narrowed her eyes, displeased that he’d been stalking her. He must have been fairly decent at it, considering she hadn’t noticed she’d been followed for half the day or more.

She scoffed. “You think a couple misdemeanors mark me criminal material?”

“Something tells me you’re dissatisfied with your hand in life, that’s all,” he said simply, as if it were obvious.

And, hell, maybe it was, but so what? Unhappiness wasn’t enough to flag her as a bad person. She shrank a little though, refusing to confirm. The trivial thought crossed her mind that he might not have drawn that conclusion if she had only smiled more for the press.

“The policeman I spoke with earlier informed me you’ve given up your hero antics,” he added, flicking a glance over to her. A wry smirk stretched his lips. “With someone as skilled as you on my side,” he went on with enthusiasm and grossly heavy helping of flattery, “I bet I could make some real progress. You took out three of my best henchmen today all by yourself. There’s something about you, Shego, I can tell. I really think you’re my kind. And if you’ll humor me, I think I can convince you to see it too.”

Shego mulled it over for a moment. The chipper man was promising something that seemed so unreal, but the implication of something rebellious – it was alluring, to say the least, reeling her in. Though it was a charming notion, she didn’t buy it. She wasn’t so naïve as to take candy from a stranger, even if she had accepted the ride. “So, let me get this straight. You want to hire me? For hench-work,” she said slowly, skeptically. “Standard gig? Ass-kicking, kleptomania, manual labor?”

The shady figure chuckled quietly in stifled glee. “Sums it up,” he confirmed, sounding hopeful. “Standard benefits. Room and board, pay, freedom to exercise your talents—”

Freedom piqued her interest, so much so she almost impulsively blurted yes on the spot. She barely heard him add on the one bit that that brought her back to her senses.

“—and, ah, if you prove yourself loyal enough, maybe a cut of the spoils when I achieve world domination.”

And there it was. It wasn’t exactly a deal breaker, but it was reason enough to think twice. Raising a brow at him, Shego judged him and his delusions silently. If it wasn’t a personal vendetta, it was either seizing control of a city or taking over the world with these villain lunatics. The only thing that set this bozo apart from the rest of the losers was he was brazen enough to seek for her alliance outright, despite knowing for a fact she was a hero.

Which had to be the biggest clue he was destined to be a failure, because that was the most asinine thing any villain could suggest.

It was so crazy it just might work.

Shego pursed her lips in mock contemplation. “Hmm, yeah, that sounds fun – but you do realize I send guys like you to prison on a regular basis, right? I’m a hero – look it up. Why do you think I’d ever help you?”

A ballsy grin spread across the headcase’s face. “Good girls don’t go around trying to mug people for their cars,” he laughed. “That, and you’re still humoring me.”

 A/N:

I wanted an opposite of Go City but Come City sounds nasty so Arriville (Arrival + ville suffix) it is. Also x2! Plymouth Rock is a breed of chicken and that was a prostitute joke and I think I'm witty, harr harr

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

King And Queen Of The Weekend, Chapter 2: Time We Danced With The Truth

Peyton x Blaine, post-“Some Like It Hot Mess.” Part angsty fix-it-fic, part smut, with just a dash of songfic along the way for flavor. A plot bunny that would not be denied, this was heavily inspired by Lorde’s Melodrama, especially “Sober.” 

Summary: Blaine’s turn. What happens when you and your ex both decide to drown your feelings rather than facing them...in the same bar, with an unoccupied piano? "No matter what can be said about the wasted potential that is Blaine Debeers, he is not and will never be exactly like his father, because the old man would never sidle up to a piano in a dive bar and start playing quietly for his own entertainment.”

Cross-posted on AO3; fun with tags + more notes can be found there.

“So even if I faked losing my memory, you wouldn’t be a little mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m just–I’m so happy right now.”

“I have good news. Major is going to get his memory back…and the good news doesn’t stop there. This is me. This version of me, small business owner, amateur lounge singer, guy that feels lucky every time you walk through that door.”

—-

Blaine keeps moving, on autopilot. What other choice does he have? The show must go on, right? He quits playing piano, though, when the customers complain. They want more upbeat music and he just…doesn’t care. He’s tired of faking it. Hello irony, oldest of friends.

It’s the brain biz instead, again. Scheming and clawing his way back to being king of the hill is what comes naturally, so that’s what he does, burying his feelings.

He’s a villain; they’re not supposed to have feelings anyway. Idiotic to have let himself believe otherwise.

Branching out suppliers while he tests the blue juice leads him south to a small town for the weekend. He could’ve sent Don E., but he wanted the distance. The time. Once business is concluded, he heads straight for a bottle.

The town’s only bar was easier to find than a solitary bottle of Jack, so he settles in a corner, sulking over his whiskey while the entire place seems to be filled with couples.

They kiss, they cuddle, they share shots like the world might end tomorrow–little do they know–and they’re everywhere, physical reminders that against all odds, he actually got the girl, only to lose her again.

Technically, he remembers, he’s lost her twice now. That’s when he decides this particular establishment isn’t doing him any favors and gets up to leave…until he sees the piano.

Much like a beautiful woman, he’s always had a hard time resisting the lure of a piano. His father disapproved of such a sentimental pastime, but his mother–and then grandfather–encouraged the lessons, and eventually, every session of putting his fingers to the keys felt like fighting back.

It still does, bringing solace along with the bittersweet memories of his mother’s hands on his and his grandfather teaching him old Irish ballads. No matter what can be said about the wasted potential that is Blaine Debeers, he is not and will never be exactly like his father, because the old man would never sidle up to a piano in a dive bar and start playing quietly for his own entertainment.

“Love and other moments are just chemical reactions in your brain, in your brain...and feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug in your veins, in your veins...”

As song choices go, it’s a bit on the nose, but he’s half-drunk and moping over Peyton, much as he wishes he wasn’t, and it’s what comes to mind. Along with it comes more moping, because he came here to forget–but he can't.

She sparkled.

That was the thing about Peyton that had first tugged at him. From the beginning, underneath her professional demeanor and through all the dark, dismal events to follow, she glowed in a way that made him want to be near her.

If he simply wanted sex and conversation he could find a beautiful woman in a bar somewhere, without getting mixed up with the ADA whose help was crucial to his plan. Slipping her his card was as practical as it was invitational, given how well he knew Mr. Boss and the danger she was courting. Against his own interests, he cared that she might get hurt because of her involvement in this scheme of his.

He never thought she'd invite him to stick around after work, as it were, to get a little sloppy on fine whiskey and do very little talking. All he’d really wanted was a little flirtation and to get rid of Mr. Boss. But when he laid out the map for her and connected the dots, she just lit up at him and took his breath away.

That was unexpected.

She made him a little tongue-tied, awkward, slightly off his game. He had better lines, smoother moves, but facing her, he was more the teenage loser of his youth than the suave king he’d remade himself to be.

The worst part was, he liked it.

“Love come quickly, because I feel my self-esteem is caving in, it’s on the brink...”

Had anybody ever come so close to sweeping him off his feet? It was a silly thought for someone who’d made a name for himself as a killer and drug dealer, but Peyton just had this way about her, part warrior queen, part soft and warm and vulnerable. The way she entered an interrogation room and demanded his release, as though anyone she came into contact with should be expected to do nothing less than exactly what she commanded.

Maybe it was a lawyer thing; he wouldn’t know. But it was hot.

And though he’d never admit it to anyone, she tunneled right into his weak spot. All he’d managed to make of himself, out of his personal hell growing up, was a cliche. The poor little rich boy, the failed entrepreneur…the thief who barely managed to graduate to drug dealer on somebody else’s turf. Once his grandfather was locked up, long after his own mother didn’t think he was worth living for, Blaine just didn’t see the point. Survival he was good at, but believing he was worth something? He'd left that behind as soon as he was old enough to understand how much his own father hated him.

Peyton was the first person to try and protect him, to stand up for him, since he was a child. It was the strangest feeling, but not unwelcome. Instead it was terrifying, because he wanted to lean into it, accept it. Her hand on his back as she ordered his father to leave, snapping at Ravi and choosing him over Major, welcoming him into their home when she knew Liv wouldn’t.

Not to mention, how she exuded cool with her shields up, so different from the woman he’d parted ways with who’d still been flush and warm and relaxed from their spontaneous encounter in her office. It should have been awkward, when they pulled back and tugged their clothes into place and she smoothed down her couch cushions, but it wasn’t.

She had grinned at him, seeming totally at ease, possibly the most confidently sexy woman he’d ever met, and asked flippantly, “Catch you later?”

Her grin was contagious. “Well,” he’d replied, “I do have a previously scheduled appointment to go over evidence with this smokin’ hot attorney. Maybe we could hook up after that?”

“Sounds good.” She linked her arms behind his neck, leaning in for a long, slow kiss. “Tell me more about this attorney.”

“Hmm…” He let his gaze wander down her body and back up to her deep hazel eyes. “Well, she’s gorgeous, and smart, and brave...”

Peyton interrupted him. “Brave?”

“Definitely. Not just anybody would take on Mr. Boss, let alone face him solo in her office without caving in to the fear. He threatened you,” Blaine reminded her gently. “And you stuck.”

She shrugged. “It’s my job. I’m good at it.”

“That’s kinda my point. But it’s more than that. You’re in it for more than the title and salary. I can tell. You really want to get him–just for what he does to this fair city of ours. That’s an admirable quality.”

“Well, we share it.” She gestured at her outfit. “So. Do I look like someone who just had sex on government property?”

“Huh. Presuming I know what that looks like,” Blaine replied, “no. I think you’re good to go.”

Nodding, Peyton stepped back toward him for one last kiss. “Then I’ll see you around.”

“Love come quickly, because I don’t think I can keep this monster in, it’s in my skin...”

He almost went for it that night on the couch. He almost couldn’t help himself, his hands full of Peyton and everything he secretly wanted most beneath his new persona. He couldn’t do it, of course–what if she regretted it? he knew he would regret it–but he almost did before he managed to pull back.

He wasn’t exactly known for his impulse control, before her. But he really did want to be better. Worthy of her company, let alone her affection. Worth that smile she shot his way that warmed the darker parts of his soul.

She made him feel poetic.

There was nothing he could do about how damaged he was long before they ever met, or what he did before and after becoming a zombie. But he was just a man now, and he wanted a real chance with her. So he stopped it.

He spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, cold without her, and wishing he’d never lied in the first place.

“Love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine, they’re morphine, cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen, rarely seen...”

When she took his hand the next morning, and led him to her room, he couldn’t believe it. And he didn’t try to stop it. She chose him, knowing his past, knowing the new man he was trying so hard to be–her hands were in his hair, her lips were parted against his, and they were kissing in the muted daylight where it felt like a dream.

He didn’t ever want to wake up.

His old life and the new one where she treated him like a decent guy who she was interested in were worlds apart. Despite her best friend being a zombie, Peyton had managed to stay surprisingly untouched by the violence surrounding her. She fought the seedy underbelly of the city…and he belonged in it.

But not anymore. He’d gotten his second chance, and he was determined to keep earning it, every day with her. Standing in her sunny bedroom, he lifted her shirt up, letting his fingers trace her skin as it was exposed. She stretched into his touch and he wondered if she did yoga, then refused to get distracted by how sexy the idea of her doing yoga was.

He was such a lost cause when it comes to Peyton Charles, it was ridiculous.

Unlike the last time, Blaine didn’t ask if she was sure, because he knew her well enough to know that this wouldn’t be happening if she weren’t. Instead, he indulged, the way they didn’t during their fateful one-night stand, when things were too new and frantic and fueled by the risk of getting caught at any moment.

Now, he could take full advantage of the light warming her bronze skin, drinking in his fill of how she looked in her bra and soft cotton pjs, before he slid those down her endlessly long legs and followed them with kisses.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

She was so beautifully responsive, angling toward his every touch, humming her appreciation. It made him want to stay with her for days, finding every sensitive spot and claiming it for himself.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she breathed back.

Peyton was already exploring him in return, dispatching his t-shirt and running her hands over his chest, leaning in toward him as her hands drifted lower.

Their lips met with excruciating slowness, neither of them rushing toward the bed. He traced her lips with his tongue, and when they parted she sighed. Then their tongues met eagerly while his fingers roamed down her back to caress her ass.

Her hand grazed him through his boxers and he jolted, growling against her mouth, their kisses growing more passionate. With an easy flick of his fingers, Blaine opened the front clasp of her bra and slid the straps off each shoulder.

They finally began inching toward the bed, still linked at the lips, her hands in his hair as the full length of her pressed against him. He kneeled next to her when they landed, running his hands over her chest and following his fingertips with his mouth.

Peyton moaned when he tugged lightly on one nipple and circled it with his tongue. He was stroking the other with his fingertips, shifting his legs so that one was between her knees and pressing against her. She rocked against him a little as their lips met and parted, breath growing thick and more desperate.

Her hands gripped his back, digging in as he continued to explore her, running his tongue along the crease of soft skin beneath her breast, then blowing lightly on her nipple before taking it back into his mouth.

Her hands moved up to his neck, running through his hair until he ceded control of the kiss to her, and she left him panting for breath. Then she was gripping his shoulders as his mouth found the curve of her neck and lingered there, leaving behind the faintest of marks.

She arched up toward him, nails digging into his skin, and he moved over, making room to slide down and let his mouth journey south. His lips left a heated trail down her taut stomach and over to her hip, where he planted a firm kiss that made her shiver.

Peyton released her grip on him and reached out to run her fingers along the waistline of his shorts. With her eyes closed, she waited until he leveraged himself up and then she tugged them off. He kicked them away, sucking in air as her hands found him and caressed the sensitive skin beneath his balls.

Blaine teased his fingers along the edge of her satin thong, then slid it aside to circle her clit with his fingers. Peyton started to shift along with his movements, quaking against the sheets.

“Oh, God. Blaine,” she murmured, taking him in her hand and stroking. His fingers kept moving against her until he was hard and ready, and their mouths clashed as he lifted himself.

She was wet and hot when he slid into her, and he found himself whispering endearments in her ear, just like the last time.

They moved together with an easy familiarity that didn’t make sense for only their second time, but he didn’t question it, straining with her toward their lush, convulsive peak. To Blaine, she felt like coming home.

“Love I beg you, lift me up into that privileged point of view, the world of two...”

Nothing she said was wrong. He was selfish, and greedy…and sad, most of all. He was angry at her for the way she tricked him into confessing–lied to him, led him into a trap–but he couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm for it, because he'd done far worse. And she was right.

He hadn’t been thinking about her friends, or making a fool of her, when his memories came back and he pretended they hadn’t. He’d been thinking about himself, which, once he had his memories back, he knew was what he always did. How he’d always been, before.

It took everything he had not to chase after her. Not to go looking, to make his case, the way he might with anybody else. But this was Peyton, who won arguments for a living, and he knew it would just make things worse. So he covered up the wound with jokes and business and liquor and tried to move on.

“Love don’t leave me, because I console myself that Hallmark cards are true, I really do...”

The liquor isn’t helping much. It never really does. Must be the Irish in him; drinking just makes him maudlin.

He sips again anyway, because he’s here and has nothing better to do, closing his eyes and remembering the way Peyton leaned back that first night, her skirt shifting and catching his attention when she crossed her legs. Her voice was sultry between sips, inviting--more intoxicating than the alcohol.

He’s not sure which is more of a tragedy, the fact that getting his memories back means he lost her, or the fact that having them means he remembers so clearly what he’s lost.

Putting his own flourish on the melody with one hand and sipping with the other, he catches movement in his peripheral vision that makes him dizzy.

He must be more drunk than he realizes, Blaine thinks, if he’s starting to hallucinate. This one isn’t exactly the way he would’ve imagined it, if he had a choice in hallucinations…which is how he knows he’s not that drunk.

Peyton’s come back to him, in all her fierce and shining glory–but she doesn’t look happy to see him. In fact, she seems just as stunned as he is, striding toward him with an accusatory finger outstretched.

He can’t help leaning into the chorus as their eyes meet, as she approaches without hesitation and all he can feel is the dull ache of missing her.

“I’m gunning down romance…it never did a thing for me, but heartache and misery—ain’t nothing but a tragedy.”

She carries herself like a fighter ready for the next round, despite her slightly glassy eyes and the tequila on her breath. If this is Peyton Charles on tequila, no wonder she wouldn’t tell him about it that first night.

She raises her voice over the piano he’s still playing, heedless of the heads that turn their way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

[sedimentarydearwatson]

The conclusion of Neus’ story! In which I’m starting to think it’s impossible to put a character through an Obsidian game and have them come out happier for it.

Okay, straight up: why is it that every time I decide to create a religious character for the sake of exploring what it’s like to live in a fantasy world with tangible magical and divine influences, the story smugly pulls a “the gods aren’t real” twist on me. I’m not trying to relive my own passage to atheism, damn you all!

I did like that this twist was more nuanced than some of the others - that it wasn’t just overly skilled magicians on a power trip pulling strings from behind their Great Wizard of Oz curtain, yet again. The gods of Eora were designed to be what their creators believed gods should be, and their powers are present and undeniable. The issue is therefore not whether there are beings capable of bestowing blessings and curses and miracles, but what it truly means to be divine; that part of the faith granted to gods is the faith there is some great, grand purpose to the trials of life and the demands they make of their followers, which is immediately undermined by the truth of them being entities constructed by kith. The whole question of “what does it mean to live in a world without assurance?” struck me deep. I might not have been looking to re-walk my personal journey, but at least they correctly identified one of the hardest things about it.

It flopped a little in the sense that...there was remarkably little fallout? The gods aren’t real and nobody fucking cares, I guess? Hiravias is still all about Wael and somehow this actually made Eder feel better about what happened with Eothas. I’m sure the sequel will explore things further, though, and there’s arguably an implication that your Watcher’s “long journey” they commence on at the end involves them wandering around to spread the word that the gods are technically real but maybe don’t blindly trust they know best just by token of being gods because, well, they’re more our children than the other way around.

The good news is that, having already been horribly burned by DA:I, I deliberately crafted Neus’ faith with a measure of...robustness, so to speak. Eothas went dark well before she fell in with the priesthood, after all, so the bulk of her faith has always been in the message she believes he represents and not reliant on direct communion with the big sun kahuna himself. It’s a shock to the system and she doesn’t take it with so easy a shrug and a grin as Hiravias, but it doesn’t crunch her beliefs into dust then and there. Which is good. Because the boss-fight against Thaos would have been really hard if the healer was shit outta magic thanks to an ill-timed crisis of faith. (She probably wasn’t at the top of her game, though.)

Act III was still a hellishly hard slog for Neus, mostly because of her soul ancestor crawling steadily out from the dark nethers of the hindbrain to become so present that by endgame they were just about duel-wielding the body. And Neus’ soul ancestor...was not a good person. Kohva, as I’m becoming inclined to call her (because if you’re going to steal one word for snow, might as well stick with the theme), basically ended up shaping herself as a deceitful coward: was in no small part drawn to Thaos’ cause through the promise of forgiveness of all past and future wrongs and the comforting protection of Divine Approval, and walked a very thin line between respect and fear of Thaos himself. She lied when he asked whether she knew the Creitum heretic, mostly out of fear he’d judge her for the association but also as a feeble, reflexive shying away from where that association might lead; tragically this probably makes this the bravest thing she’s ever done. When Thaos confronted her again on the subject, however, she crumbled, and ended up giving her baby sister over to the Inquisition’s less than tender mercies - but not before realising Iovara’s “heresies” may have actually been truths.

No gods, no redemption. A mentor who had lied to her, and who made no bones about the fact he’d just as quickly tie her to the pyre if she strayed from his path. I don’t think she lived all that much longer after Iovara’s passing, utterly despairing of a way forward and terrified of torture, and she died knowing there’d been no reason for any of what she’d done.

So! Being the sort-of-reincarnation of Kohva ix Ensios is not the most delightful of past-times. During the earlier months of the awakening Neus only had to put up with a fearful, cringing presence that ebbed and waned depending on the stimulus, but as the memories kept unravelling a real person began to take shape and it was no one Neus wanted to know. Kohva didn’t tend to yank control of the body away for long speeches, at least, but she was a flighty impulse at the best of times, and a frustratingly unreliable backseat driver at worst. Kohva didn’t remember exactly what she’d done - and she didn’t particularly want to. It was like dragging a squalling anchor around inside her head.

The powerful urge to reach back through time and throttle her own soul did not prevent Neus from making progress in Twin Elms, however - namely, running errands for the gods in order to gain enough favour to breach spooky hell island and pin Thaos down to throttle him instead. 

Neus was sympathetic to Pallegina’s raging at Hylea, but didn’t really have similar issues when speaking with Berath. Partly due to being quite satisfied with the mother and father she was born to, and partly due to Berath’s general nature - they’re not exactly known to be the chatty sort - she’d never looked on the god of cycles as any kind of a parental figure. She had plenty of mixed feelings about being a death godlike, yes, but not that many quibbles about Berath’s part in it. As it was, she actually ended up striking her bargain with her benefactor, as returning the stolen souls of the Hollowborn to the reincarnation cycle seemed the safest, stablest way of handling the crisis.

(She did find Wael’s offer to just loose the souls to find their own paths tempting, down in Court...but a promise is a promise, and Neus traded too heavily on her honesty to renege at the last moment on a cranky whim. Going by the ending slides, it’s a damn good thing she stuck with it. These guys are rather spiteful when jilted, yow.)

The reunion with Iovara’s soul in the Court was about as emotional as you’d expect. Just as with Maerwald, Neus’ mind was coming apart under the strain of Kohva’s awakening and hallucinated memories, and in many ways it was neither individual who lead the conversation but a confused blending of both: Kohva’s anguish and Neus’ forthright honesty finally leading to closure between the sister souls.

The blending carried through to the final confrontation with Thaos, both personas reaching rare agreement in wanting him to maybe just fuck right off already - and once defeated, Neus held his soul in her palm for a long moment, trying to decide what to do with him. She knew, rather well, how being forced to live with your mistakes was a keen punishment...but there was too much spite in that action for it to be comfortable, and as doggedly and relentlessly as he had pursued his goals she just wasn’t sure it was safe to loose him back into the cycle. She tore the soul apart: quickly and mercifully, as he had never taught Kohva how.

And then she gave Skaen and Woedica an emphatic middle finger, whipped the souls back into the reincarnation vortex, and promptly keeled over for an extremely overdue nap.

And lo, all was well in Dyrwood! Kohva didn’t disappear entirely, but she quietened down so as to be little more than the occasional flicker like a distant echo of emotion, easily disregarded if desired. Most of the companions did alright for themselves, though Pallegina got banished for trying to do the right thing boo, and Durance apparently burned himself alive because I neglected to do his sidequest, RIP that guy. Sagani would become a respected elder, Kana went a-sailing, Eder would hook up with the Eothasian underground, and Hiravias happily romped around as the Autumn Druid. Aloth began dismantling the Leaden Key. Grieving Mother went back to midwifery.

And Neus sat down on a rock to ponder on what to do with all she’d learned. The entities they called gods were real and powerful and capable of inspiring people to great things: she had no issue with that. They needed to be understood for what they were, though. It went against all she believed it to let the world keep turning on a lie.

But hey, she mused, watching her spider spin a web between her hands. Plenty of time to get to it. Surely the world had had enough crises for one cycle.

[cue Deadfire]