#not saying a fanfiction that property gets into this could not be done

[weirdgirlification]

like not only is theo “not gay” he also looks down on boris for not being as cultured as him and being involved in illegal activities (hypocritical i know bc theo is also involved in illegal activities. but his are like old money rich illegal activities so it’s different at least in his mind). he’s spent his whole adulthood in these circles of wealthy elite new yorkers who have extensive knowledge of art and furniture and other such things. look at how concerned he is with mrs barbour’s opinion… he got engaged primarily in order to become part of her family and therefore the cultured elite… he is not going to drop all that to be in a gay relationship with some new money wealth sketchy guy without having at least a little conflict about it lol. he is very much a snob about such things

[pinguwrites]

In The Light of the Moon | Thomas Shelby

Pairing -> dark!thomas shelby x innocent!reader

Summary -> Having enough of being mistreated by your family, you decide to runaway to the small town of Birmingham. There, you meet the feared gangster, Thomas Shelby, whose intentions with you are less than pure.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), kinda dark tommy, innocent!reader, mentions of abuse, p in v, anal, oral (both sides), fingering, allusion to stalking, bunny pet name (briefly, as a joke), lingerie, spanking, very light breeding, bleeding, pain, first time for reader

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Tommy asked, taking a quick drag of his cigarette, the white smoke curling up in the cold, bitter air.

You hugged your body with your arms and averted your eyes. “Sir, I have to go home. It’s almost night.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Home? The streets?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. You were sleeping on the streets, ever since you ran away from your abusive family in London. You had nothing with you but a bag of sandwiches you were carefully portioning, some cash, and the things you were wearing — a light skirt with intricate pink patterns and boots.

“Are you here just to make fun of me?” you said, a little annoyed.

He stepped forward and brushed his fingers against your cheek. You shuddered at the feeling, involuntary leaning into his warm touch, but then you realized what you were doing and backed away.

“Such a pretty girl,” he complimented. When you pulled away, he stopped his caressing, but he didn’t bother to create space between you two. No, he seemed to like the way things were. “Where’s your family?”

“You don’t need to know,” you huffed. You were trying to sound intimidating, but your tone betrayed your emotions. You were vulnerable, without a clue of what to do.

He laughed. “You have some bite, sweetheart. Tell me, what’s your name? I told you mine.”

You hesitated.

“What’s your name?” he repeated, more forceful. “Or do you just want me to call you girl? Perhaps bunny?” He chuckled. “You’re cute like one. Ought to get you some fluffy ears and tail, maybe a collar . . .”

“I’m not a bunny!”

This man was embarrassing you. Why’d he have to say things like that? The idea of you wearing an outfit like that, probably provocative based on the manner he was suggesting, made you feel small and upset. How could he say such things so freely?

“Then what’s your name?”

You grumbled but told him anyway.

“Good girl.”

You ignored the way his words made your body tingle and warm up in all the wrong places.

“Now, did you run away?”

“Why are you so curious?” you questioned, not wanting to tell him. What if he got in contact with your family and found out about the reward they were offering for your return?

“Because you’re a strange girl who shouldn’t be here, on my fuckin’ property, and I like to know who goes on my property and why.”

“Are you a gangster, Mr. Shelby?”

You were starting to think this man wasn’t just some wealthy mayor, but rather a criminal, the kind you were always warned about. He was far too crass to be of a higher class, but he certainly had power, or he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Tommy took another puff of his cigarette. “Ah, so you know a thing or two. Thought you’d be stupid.”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, not wanting to engage in such useless conversation. “We’re done here. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “You think I’m letting you go out there, alone? With no family to keep you safe, no man to protect you? No. You’re coming home with me. I’ll give food, shelter, nice clothes,” he tugged at your dirty dress, “a place to sleep. How does that sound?”

“I don’t even know you!” you sputtered out. “I can’t go to a stranger’s house and live with them.”

His eyes darkened. “And what is the alternative? Lay on concrete? Starve to death? Wait for some bastard to come along and hurt you the way sick men like to hurt little girls?”

You were at a loss. You had nothing to say, no argument to defend yourself. Staying at Tommy’s place sounded comfortable, but you couldn’t.

“I—I can’t.”

Tommy sighed and pulled you closer to him. “I’m just telling ya’, you wouldn’t be a burden on me. I won’t harm you, and I won’t touch you if you don’t want it.”

“You’re touching me right now!”

"There's a difference," he growled, pushing you up against him, his face inches from yours. "I'm protecting you. Do you think I’d hurt you?”

You whimpered, scared. “N-no. I—I don’t know!” you stuttered. “I barely know you, Mr. Shelby.”

You turned your head so you didn’t have to be so close to him, or look him directly in the eyes.

“You’re staying with me,” he said in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“. . . Yes, sir,” you breathed out, flustered at the close proximity.

===

Tommy led you back to his apartment. He got you some food and water, a cozy room to sleep in, and a hot bath. He was so generous with everything, and though you were cautious of him at first, you couldn’t help but let your fantasies run wild.

Before you could start daydreaming, Tommy entered the washroom, holding something behind his back.

You shrieked. You had just gotten out of the water and were drying yourself off with the towel, but it was too small to cover your entire body. You squeezed your legs together and covered your chest.

“You can’t be in here!”

Tommy laughed and ignored your words. “Why not? It’s my place.” But he looked away. “You were taking a while, that’s why I came in. I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“And what will you wear?”

You didn’t think of that. He hadn’t given you any clothes yet.

He showed you what he was holding, but it didn’t even look like proper clothing, rather undergarments and a skimpy top. You stared at it for a moment, before realizing he was expecting you to take it.

“I can’t wear that,” you protested.

He sighed. “‘I can’t do this’, ‘I can’t do that’, when are you going to learn to do as I tell you? I want to see you wear this, so wear it.”

You didn’t complain after that, though you did hesitate. You made him turn around while you changed, trying to fit the skimpy clothing on your body.

The bra was white and comfortable, but it would easily slip down if someone wanted it to. It accentuated the curve of your tits. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever worn, and you felt horrified at the thought of Tommy seeing you in this thing. It made you feel like a . . . like a prostitute.

The panty barely covered your ass. It was all hanging out for show. What is the point of such outfits? It’s useless! you thought.

“You can turn around now, sir. Just, please don’t stare.”

He did stare, he stared at every part of you like a hungry beast, ready to tear his prey apart. You felt wanted under his gaze, but the whole situation was making you feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to behaving like this, you weren’t used to being around men like Tommy. It was all so new and daunting.

“Walk towards me,” he ordered.

You did so, hugging your body with your arms — a bad habit. Your tits were bouncing slightly with every step, but you made sure it wasn't too obvious. You couldn't help but wonder what your family would think if they saw you like this.

How have you gone from being a rich girl to living on the streets to the arms of a handsome gangster?

“Oh, that’s a nice view, sweetheart.” He licked his lips. “Turn around now.”

You did that as well.

“You see that scrubber on the floor?”

You looked, spotting the thing you used to wash yourself. It must have fallen at some point.

“Yeah, do you want me to pick it up?”

“That’s right.”

You knew your bum would be clear to him if you did, but it was your fault it was on the floor, and you felt bad about it. It was your obligation to pick it up, right? You didn't want to be a poor guest.

"Don't look."

You bent over and picked it up. Mr. Shelby let out a heavy sigh and you immediately felt something poking your behind. He was pressing his body up against you! You tried to get up, but he pushed you back down, holding your waist and shoulder so you didn’t fall over.

“What are you doing?!” You couldn't move with the way he was holding you. It was such a compromising situation, what was he trying to pull?

“You’re so easy,” he groaned. “You don’t question why I want you to wear those things? Or maybe you do know . . . dirty girl.”

He picked and placed you over his shoulders, carrying you through the apartment hallways. He led you over to his room, placing you down on his bed despite you smacking your hands against his back.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!”

“Only if you didn’t want it. But you want this, don’t you?”

“No!” You tried to get off his bed but he pushed you back down with a thud. “. . . Maybe. I don’t know! I’ve never done this before."

You didn't even know what exactly he wanted to do with you. You were vaguely aware of promiscuous activities ungentlemanly men got up to at night, and that it could sometimes result in babies, but you were uneducated on the details.

His gaze softened. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I know you’re a virgin. I’ll be gentle at first, okay?” He gave you a rough kiss, his tongue flicking against your bottom lip.

"Mmph!"

You tried to push him off you but he wouldn't have any of it. He pinned your arms above your head and continued to ravish you, nipping at your neck with his teeth, running his hands all over your body — your arms, your stomach, your thighs, all the way down to your feet.

His lips finally left yours, but before you could say anything, they were back on.

You couldn't deny, it felt good. This was the best you'd ever felt your entire life, even more so than that one time your desires got the best of you and you tried touching yourself, though that was probably because that time resulted in a swift confession and punishment.

Tommy started grinding his hips between your legs, making you moan against his mouth. He pulled away, still rolling his body. "See? You're enjoying it." He let go of your hands, to which you immediately gripped the back of his shirt. “I know you want this,” he continued. “Say you want this.”

You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed to respond. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

He stopped and you whined.

“Say you want this,” he said, his nose brushing up against yours. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t . . .”

“But you should,” he convinced. “I won’t dump you after I’m done. I’ll take care of you. You’ll live here, with me, okay? You’ll be my sweetheart, my pet.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, but you placed your hands against his chest.

“I don’t know how to have—how to,” you struggled to find the words.

“How to what? Fuck?” He laughed. “I’ll teach ya’. What do you know?”

It felt weird saying it out loud, but you did. “A man and a woman need to be married,” — Tommy huffed at that — “and a man is supposed to take his . . . well, I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to take a part of him and put it inside a woman’s privates.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said, but he didn’t look upset at your lack of knowledge. “I’ll show you, but first I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

You nodded your head slowly in anticipation, not ready for how vulgar it was going to be.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock and fuck you till you go dumb,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “This thing here, it’s called a cock, and I’ve got the best one you’ll ever see.” He pulled it out, a hard length, too long and thick to possibly fit in you. It was throbbing, with some type of liquid leaking out the top. “Look at it. This is what I’m going to ram inside your holes — all three of them.”

Your breathing hitched and you gasped. “All of them? I don’t understand—”

He interrupted you by forcing two of his fingers down your throat, making you gag and sputter, tears welling up in your eyes. “My cock will go inside your mouth first. It’ll make me feel good. I’ll teach you how to suck properly, how to lick, how to swallow.”

He removed his now wet fingers, letting you relax for a brief moment, but then he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your panties down, giving a nice, hard slap to your ass.

You yelped.

He spread your cheeks apart and pushed his finger in your hole, just a little bit, to give you the idea. You squirmed. It didn’t hurt that much, but you were sure if he went further in it would.

“Then here, sweetheart. We’ll spend a lot of time here. It’s always been my favorite.”

You thought about how his cock was supposed to fit in there. His fingers already felt too big. 

“It won’t fit—”

“—It will. I’ll shove it in until it does.” 

His hand snaked under your stomach and down between your legs. “And here.” He brushed his fingers against your folds and over your entrance. “Your pussy. I’ll fuck it, and you’ll take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

You felt your heart beat against your chest like it was going to jump out. In excitement or fear, you did not know.

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes, and it may even bleed, but only for a while. I promise I’ll make it feel good. Now, flip over and spread your legs.”

You rested on your back and widened your legs, wondering what he was going to do when he placed a pillow under your hips, moved your panty to the side, and kissed your pussy with fervor.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, the sensation feeling warm and weird.

“I need to get you ready, and I want to show you what an orgasm feels like.”

“An orgasm?”

“You’ll see.”

He flicked his tongue over your bud, sucking on it, holding your hips in place. It felt like heaven, enough to make you forget your guilt and focus on the way he was eating you out. 

“Oh,” you moaned softly, looking down at Tommy. He was looking up at you, observing your reactions, trying to see if this made you feel good or that. He was doing it with such precision, too. It felt sloppy and messy, the sounds of his kisses a loud pucker, but it couldn’t have been unthoughtful, because it felt so good.

He kept doing it. Your body was tingling as he started to get more passionate, finally pushing his tongue inside your pussy.

“Huh,” you let out.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside now,” he told you. “Just relax.” He slid his hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “Relax.”

You loosened your tense muscles and rested your head on the pillow. You shut your eyes, trying to let your thoughts go blank, but the sudden intrusion of his finger was too painful for you to ignore.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

“I’ll go slower.”

He pushed in a little further. He wasn’t going slower, or at least, it didn’t feel like he was.

“How much more needs to go in?”

“About three more quarters of what’s already there,” he guessed. “But I’ll need to put two more fingers in after that, and then my cock.”

You looked down at his cock. It was still open, hanging firm out of his trousers. Huge and thick and fat. You were sure he was lying when he said it would fit. You imagined him trying to push it in, but failing, because how could that possibly make its way inside you?

“I wish it didn’t hurt, sweetheart. I wish I could take away your pain.”

Now his finger was halfway through. It was like someone had placed an object where it was not meant to be. How could this be natural if it was so painful?

“Just a little bit more.” He continued running his other hand up and down your thigh. “You’re taking it so well.”

He pushed the rest of it in, letting it stay for a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed. He brushed your hair out of your face, curling his finger inside. “You’re alright, you’ll be alright.”

He pulled his finger out. There was a bit of blood on it, mixing with your clear juices. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking away. It was disgusting.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s normal. I won’t have you feeling ashamed of yourself.”

He added another and did the same thing. Eventually, he was pushing in and out at a slow, steady pace. It was horribly painful, but it was starting to feel a little good, especially with the way he started licking your pussy again.

“One more. Just one more.”

You cried out. “Too much!”

He didn’t respond.

Your walls were being stretched, and you felt like you were a stretchy piece of fabric about to get ripped apart. But the pleasure of his tongue managed to counter it a little.

You felt a strange sensation in your belly, coupled with pain.

“I—I,” you tried to say.

“I know. Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my fingers.”

You came — whatever that meant. You felt like you were at some peak, a little dizzy in the head, with some substance leaking out of your body.

You panicked, worried it was something else, but to your shock, it was white, and Tommy was lapping it up.

“W-what’s that?”

“Your cum. It’s what happens when you orgasm.”

You nodded your head in understanding, even though you didn’t fully understand. It was like heaven, pure bliss, and as long as it was happening, you were fine with being ignorant. You just wanted to feel that way again, and you wanted to make Tommy feel that way, too. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Tommy took his cock in his hands and gave it a few pumps. You sat up. He pushed the tip to your lips and you gave it a lick. It was an alright taste. 

You looked up at Tommy nervously, running your fingers down his length.

“Just leave some kisses along it,” he instructed. “I’m not expecting your first time to be perfect.”

You did as he said. He didn’t make any noises, but you were observant and could tell his breathing was getting a little uneven. When you put his tip in your mouth, his hand went to the back of your head, guiding and gentle.

You pulled away. “Do I just . . . take it all?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s okay if you gag, just push it all the way in. Breathe through your nose.”

Calming your nerves, you slipped about a fourth of his cock into your mouth, wetting it, swirling your tongue around the way you did sweets like ice cream. 

“Use your hands for what can’t fit.”

You started pumping the rest of his length, the way you saw him do.

Tommy finally made a noise, a little groan. It made you feel more confident that what you were doing was right, so you started sucking more passionately, with more enthusiasm, taking in more of his length — enough to make a difference, but not enough to make you gag.

Tommy let out a little choke and started pushing your head down on him. “Think you can take all of it?”

You couldn’t say anything with your mouth filled, but it was a yes. You wanted to push yourself.

“Good.”

He gave a quick, experimental thrust into your mouth, one that made you gag. Tears welled up in your eyes, but it was gone after a few seconds. It was just so unexpected. It didn’t hurt much, it just felt odd and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside your mouth. Every time you thought it couldn’t go any further, he proved you wrong. Now you really were crying. You thought that maybe he would stop, but all he did was make a shushing sound and wipe away your tears.

You tried to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for him, and it seemed to be satisfying enough because he didn’t ask you to do anything different. He just had that blank stare, grunting, the only sounds in the room ones of him and the slurping noise you were making.

After a few more minutes, he told you he was coming, and forced you to swallow his sticky, white liquid. 

He pulled out and you coughed. 

You went to him for some comfort, but he was already leaving the room.

You were confused, your throat sore, but then he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel. He cleaned off your face and helped you drink. It made you feel much better.

“I’m tired, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

“Such a princess,” he responded. “Have to do some work once and decide you don’t like it? Just want your own pleasure?”

His words made you look down. Now that you knew how it felt to orgasm that was all you wanted to do, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy your mouth on Tommy’s cock. You were sure that you would get used to it after a few more times, and soon it would stop feeling so uncomfortable. 

“No.”

“It’s okay. All you have to do now is take it.”

You remembered his words. He was going to take your ass next. 

“Can’t we wait a bit—?”

“No,” he growled, pushing you on your hands and knees. “I’ve waited too fuckin’ long.”

Waited too long?

“And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you want this?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “But I just want a little break—”

He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, huh? Is it a good spanking? ‘cause I can do that.”

“No,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good, m’sorry.”

He spanked you again, pulling your underwear all the way down and tossing it to the side of the room. “I think I do want to spank you. Pretty, rich girls like you don’t get much discipline, eh?”

You did, but you didn’t know how to say it.

He pulled your top down a little, to reveal some small scars. You knew he could see them, but you couldn’t see his reaction.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Yes, yes!”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means doing as you tell me, sir.”

Satisfied with your response, he rubbed your sore ass, trying to make it feel better.

He grabbed a bottle from the nightstand and applied it on his hands. “This is lube, sweetheart. It’ll reduce the friction.”

He slid his lubed-up finger in your ass and you hissed.

It was the same process he did with your pussy. He pushed in and out, stretching out your hole. It hurt, and you were sure it was bleeding a little, but after a while, it began to feel pleasurable.

Tommy’s fingers started rubbing your clit, distracting you from the pain. He pressed the tip of his fat cock in your ass, shoving it inside it.

“Mr. Shelby, slow down!” you squeaked out.

He didn’t listen. He pushed his cock further in, and it made you feel like your insides were going to snap if he stretched them too much.

“Mmm,” you winced, “is that all?”

“Fuck. That’s only half.”

Tommy held your shoulder with his other hand on your waist. “So tight,” he murmured, pushing further in. “You’re going to make a good pet, I can tell.”

The term was degrading, but you didn’t say anything, not like you had the guts to when he was inside you, not after he warned you that you would get a spanking if you didn’t behave like a good girl.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby.”

He pushed himself all the way in. You felt so full of his cock, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop. He was beginning to move, slowly at first, making sure that you were okay with it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Tommy asked. The hand on your waist moved to your top, his fingers sliding underneath it.

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your body. Suddenly, the force of his thrusting was pushing you forward, the only thing stopping you from falling over was his grip. You cried out, the pain and pleasure too much for you to handle. 

Your breasts started to bounce, but their movement was being held by the top he gave you, which Tommy slowly pulled up. Tommy pinched your nipples, flicking them, twisting them, pulling on them, whatever he wanted. You whined, half-heartedly trying to shove him away, but while he did stop, he was still cupping your breasts in his hands, continuing to ram your ass. 

‘This is what I want from you,” he grunted, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper inside. “Most days, I’ll want to fuck you like this. I’ll — ah — I’ll expect you to be ready on your hands and knees when I tell you to.”

Occasionally, you could feel the scrape of his pants against your skin, reminding you that his clothes were still on. You moaned when he started rubbing your clit more vigorously.

“Spread your legs further apart,” he ordered.

You did, which only made him gain access to a deeper part inside of you. 

He continued his brutal assault for a couple more minutes until he changed his position. He forced you to lay down on your stomach while he draped his body over your back, thrusting stiff and rough. Now, he could start kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, any part of your body he couldn’t reach before.

He finally came into your hole, his whiteness spurting out. You could feel it drip out and down your thighs. You tried to wipe it away but he wouldn’t let you.

He flipped you over on your back. He took off your top completely, admiring your naked body. Despite the fact that this man had just taken your virginity, his hungry stare made you cover yourself up. You supposed it was because you weren’t used to it.

“Oi!”

You immediately sprawled your body, fearing a reprimand. 

“There ya’ go.”

He grabbed another wet towel and wiped off your body. He told you it was important, to keep clean and safe.

As you expected, he didn’t give you much of a break. In this hour, you figured that he could only fuck you — or prefer to — when his cock was hard, and within a few moments, it was already starting to rise up.

Once he got his cock inside your pussy, all the way in, despite your squirms, he started fucking — rough, hard, and fast.

“So good,” he praised. “So good for me.”

You whined in response. He was gripping your waist like his life depended on it, making sure you couldn’t squirm or move away. 

“You’re learning so well. Keep still.”

His movements were making the bed and your body shake. You whined, pathetic mewls leaving your mouth. You really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Your limbs were starting to feel sore and your mind foggy, like if you didn’t take a break you would pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment alone.

But you didn’t want to. You fought to open your eyes. You didn’t want Tommy to know you couldn’t take it anymore, that would be embarrassing. 

He finally came inside of you, locking your hips together as he murmured something about your breasts getting bigger and swollen, which you didn’t understand, but didn’t ask for clarification regardless.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was exhausted, and so were you.

After taking a few minutes to yourselves, Tommy said, “I’m never going to let you go, you hear me? Never.”

You didn’t say anything. Somewhere in all that fucking you had accepted your fate. You belonged to Thomas Shelby now, and that was just the way things had to be.

“I ran away,” you finally confessed. “My family . . . they weren’t nice to me. Promise me,” you said seriously, looking into Tommy’s beautiful eyes. “Promise me you won’t send me back. If . . . if you don’t want me anymore, you can just send me on my way, not back to them. Promise?”

Tommy laughed, as if what you had just said was absurd.

“I won’t let you go back to your family. Those oil bastards.”

You paused. How did he know they were in the oil business?

“How did you—?”

“Shhh.” Tommy placed a finger over your lips, silencing your words. “You’re tired. It’s time to sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.” He caressed your face, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t fight the command, you were truly feeling sleepy, and all you wanted to do was shut your eyes and rest.

But that nagging thought in your head. How did he know?

He didn’t give you any more time to think. He pulled you close to him, close enough so that your head was resting on his shoulder and your legs were draped over his body.

“Sweet dreams. Tomorrow we’ll have a few more rounds. You’ll need your rest.”

And with that, your eyes fluttered shut and you were taken away into the abyss of darkness, into your dreams. 

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@alice-drysdale

[chlorinecake]

A non con fanfiction? On sunghoon or jake

Btw love you're fanfics! Lots of lovee!🤍

cross my heart and hope to die

syn. Basically while your university hosts a school event, Jake convinces you to help him break into an abandoned frat house before fucking the living daylights out of you

pair. star student!fratboy!jake x gullible!fem!reader

warnings. swearing, guided f. masturbation, cum eating (?), tit play, hickey, petnames (angel, doll face), cnc themes, mild degrading and exhibition kink, light choking/slapping/hair pulling, unprotected sex (stay safe guys), creampie, not proofread

word count. 2.1k

Today marked the day of your university’s annual student and staff celebration, and as promised in the lengthy event criterion, would offer free refreshments, entertainment, awards, and most importantly, a place for everyone on campus to fit in.

Or at least… mostly everyone.

You and your university’s proudly dubbed star student and “spoiled brat,” Sim Jake, occupied yourselves with other plans for the evening.

To most people, Jake in a nutshell was someone who’s brain matched their pockets.

Not that you were particularly interested in Jake’s money or brilliance… you just simply found him attractive. Very attractive.

His strikingly sharp smile, almond brown eyes, perfect cupid's bow, olive skin, strong hands... you could go on for days about how beautiful he was to you.

Gosh, looking at him alone was like a wet dream.

So much so that you'd do basically anything just to be in his presence, despite your own impending bashfulness getting in the way.

And he noticed it. All of your fangirl tendencies...

Despite that, your relationship with Jake wasn't necessarily ideal: you basically just did whatever he asked of you, leading to the partial friendship you two now share.

Though, the only boundary Jake’s favors hadn’t passed yet was anything sexual, all the while one way or another, he planned to change that.

Now, you wish you could say this particular night was all his idea, but you knew deep down in your heart that you had every intent within your own gullible will to join him in his folly.

To give in.

“Hey, you almost done in there, doll face?,” Jake whispered from behind the halfway opened door to the dean’s office, extending his head to take a look down the hallways as if preparing to cross the street.

You two couldn’t risk getting caught.

Not in here, and not over this.

“Yeah, I.... I’m locking the drawer back now, just gimme a few more seconds,” you replied while focused on the task at hand, locking the dean’s desk drawer back and doing a quick check to make sure everything was in the same place you’d found it initially before leaving.

Everything except the key to your university’s former frat house, which had since five or so years ago become a vacant property of forgotten memories and potential.

Of course Jake thought to seek your help with getting the key, hoping that someday, he and his friends would be able to reoccupy the place.

“Alright, we’re good to go,” you said, meeting him at the door as you both ran down the left hall, a flight of stairs, along a few sidewalks, and onto the football field.

“The house should be a few more minutes from here,” Jake added, taking your hand in his to guide you, his touch practically sending electric waves to your heart.

It was starting to get dark quickly, and you weren't sure if the event was coming to an end or not, given how quiet everything suddenly became... but still, you were more focused on exploring anyways.

For better or worse, you were just too curious, too desperate for Jake’s attention.

Click.

You finally unlocked the door upon trying the three other keys you stole from the office, taking in the view of the place that looked as if it’d been kept clean over all these years, with an audacity to smell of pleasant florals, citrus, and pine.

“Hey, where’d you get that?,” you asked Jake, noticing the can of soda he sipped from, and the way his lips glimmered under the faint lighting.

“From the party… I must've been thirsty earlier and forgot I brought this with me,” he said, puppy eyes looking around before meeting you, “want some?”

“Uh, sure, thanks,” you said shyly, taking the soda can to sip, even though the fizz was a bit faded for some reason.

“Oh! Sorry, ____!,” he suddenly yelped, having nudged your hand to take the drink away and accidentally spilling some of the sparkling liquid all over the top you wore.

“Ahh,” you sighed quietly, feeling the cold and sugary drink stick to your skin, “it’s fine, Jake... there’s gotta be towels in here somewhere anyway.”

“Hey, maybe check upstairs, if there's a main bedroom, there should be some cloths in there,” Jake offered, going to discard the can as you did just as he said.

You found a room eventually, where hand towels with dainty cross embroidery at each corner laid on the bed. They stood out like a sore thumb considering the erotic playboy magazine covers hung up on either end of the headboard in gold picture frames.

Jake came back quickly, watching as you plopped yourself on the bed, your chest jiggling a bit with you’re movements as you wiped up your shirt.

He laid down beside you with a groan, yawning out of boredom more than tiredness, “Wonder what kind of shit went down in this room,” he though to himself before glancing back at you. “That’s not gonna work, you know? You’re gonna need to change your entire shirt at this point.”

“But… I don’t wanna risk getting caught by taking anything else, seeing how I’ve already messed up this nice towel,” you rationalized with him.

“Take off your shirt, angel,” Jake said in a husky voice, sitting up now on the bed to look at you better, his gaze practically undressing you itself, “you just look so uncomfortable with it on…”

Your nipples were hard thanks to the cold drink, so they poked through your outfit, just enough for him to get a good sneak peek.

There was something about the tone of his voice that made you feel different this time, though. Nervous.

“I’m fine… really,” you replied before continuing, “So what do you think about the frat house," you asked, still patting the wet spot of your shirt with the towel, ignoring his previous comment.

"Hmm… It's pretty nice... spacious... the condition isn’t too bad, so that means less work for me and the boys,” he answered, shamelessly staring at you, “plus, it already has everything we need in it.”

The place really was like a hidden resort house.

“Yeah… now that you mention it, I wouldn’t doubt they still have some soap in here, too. I really need to wash this stain out, anyway—”

Jake’s hands found your shoulder first, pushing you back first against the bed before straddling you, hooking the lower seam of your top with his fingers and pulling it up over your head.

“W-what’re you doing, Jake?” You stuttered, nervous as you laid half naked beneath him.

“What you obviously couldn’t do yourself,” he slithered, lips already meeting your sweet breasts, thanks to his little soda accident earlier.

You regretfully moaned, already feeling your core warm up at his actions. The effect he had on you was honestly a bit embarrassing.

“M-maybe we should go back downstairs-”

“But you don’t want to…” he whispered against your skin as he left a trail of kisses all over your chest.

“J-Jake, this isn’t why I came here with you-”

“You know how much I like it when you do as I say, angel... now I just need you to keep being a good girl for me, okay?”

“Jake, stop-” you whined, feeling as his hands toyed with your panties.

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t been dying for me to touch you like this,” he grinned, looking up at you with the sluttiest eyes as his hand sat just above the wet spot of your core.

He snickered to himself, “You want this, don't you?”

His hand harshly smacked the tender skin of your inner thigh, a loud sound filling the room as your body flinched.

“Yes,” you yelped in discomfort, biting your lip to hold back any tears.

“So why are you telling me to stop?”

“I was… I don’t…,” your mind was getting fuzzy, chest starting to heave as you struggled to think with his finger circling your clothed clit.

What had gotten into him?

“You were cold because I spilled my drink on you, and now I’m helping you warm up again,” he smiled, mouth connecting with your neck as he continued to suck relentlessly, skillfully teasing your heat as he marked you, “Right, ____?”

“Jake,” you whined, arching your back once you felt his fingers apply pressure.

“Shhh,” he cooed, pulling down your bottoms the rest of the way and spreading your legs.

Leaning back, he finally spoke, “Touch yourself for me… and use two fingers so I can see how your pathetic little pussy struggles to take it.”

And of course, you did just that, already slick enough to put on a nice show for him.

He slapped your face when you closed your eyes, telling you to look at him the entire time.

You continued to pleasure yourself before him, a bit of moisture seeping from your aching hole when he slapped your tit this time, “Oh, you like the pain, don’t you slut? Can’t come without it, can you?”

“Nngh, no,” you answered for reasons you don’t understand, fucking yourself faster as you circled your hips, just as he snatched your wrist, licking the juices from your fingers.

“Up,” was all he said before taking you to the window, bending you over the sill.

“It’s getting stuffy in here, I say we let some air out, yeah?”

All you did was nod dumbly as his words, his belt buckle hitting the ground with a clink as his dick found your entrance, shoving past your slimy tightness with his lips kissing down your back.

His grunts sounded animalistic as he picked up the pace, his accent thick and strong with each curse that slipped from his mouth.

Jake’s hands found your neck, gripping tightly as his thrusts sped up, fucking you back and forth with you your head resting at the window.

“Look up slut, so everyone can see your cute little face tear up while I fuck you from behind… fuck you like my good little cock whore. Taking all of me so well— mmm.”

He pulled your hair by the roots, causing a loud moan to slip past your mouth as he stretched you out. “You’re such a slut for pain,” he grunted, “am I wrong, angel?”

You whimpered at his words, barely even present with how dizzy you felt, “you’re always righ— mghh, yes, right there...”

He pulled you from the window sill, shoving your face against the ground as he continued to thrust from behind, your tits shaking with his aggressive thrusts.

Picking you back up by the elbows, he pistoled into you, fluids trickling down your thighs and glistening against his pelvis as your poor thighs shook from all the pleasure, your weak moans dancing off the walls.

He thrusted in and out of you, fucking you into overstim as he chased him own high, taking pleasure in the way you squirmed whenever you felt his tongue against your skin.

His hands slid up your ribs before cupping your tits again, gripping at them relentlessly as his moans grew louder, breathier.

Needier.

Your hips bounced against his as you helped by fucking yourself on his cock, throwing your head back against his chest as you both came at the same time.

“Aww, fuck,” he groaned loudly, loosening his grip as you felt him paint your walls with his warm release.

Despite how out of breath both of you were, Jake picked you up and brought you to the bed, taking the same towels from earlier to clean you up before joining the empty spot beside you.

The three keys you borrowed from the dean's office were as good as misplaced by now, you and Jake both too tired to give a shut about looking for 'em now.

“You can’t tell anyone about this…," he started with a rasp voice, "nothing about tonight… not your friends, and especially not mine,” he said, pulling you close to him as you laid in only his jacket and your panties, Jake himself wearing just a t-shirt and jeans.

You looked into his face, that was unbelievably more striking with a post-sex glow.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” you answered softly, as both of you stared at the ceiling, hearing nothing more than your hearts beating and a few faint sounds from outside.

Still, the fact remained that you’d do anything for Jake… even sexual favors now.

“Thank you,” he whispered back, but you were already fast asleep, the final thought on his own mind being that the abandoned frat house would be a place just for the two of you now.

❊ Thank you all so much for reading this quick fic !! I honestly think it's kinda garbage, but I hope someone out there finds it enjoyable at least (probably gonna make a revised version of this for another member tho, we'll see...) !! Also, make sure to check out my masterlist for more reads like this ~

❊ [Perm] Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33

[imagitory]

@andrewmoocow Personally I find them to be misguided. There is a very well-done analysis video I've cited before that talks about the animation and why it ends up looking like AI, and I think it really addresses this argument better than I could --

-- but TL;DR, the animation looks "fake" largely because of stylistic decisions (l.e. turning off motion blur with the thought it would look "more like 2D") that weren't well thought-out. And I actually think the film's writing issues run into the same problem.

Because here's the thing -- writing high fantasy is not as easy as it looks. I can testify to this because I myself am writing a draft for a high fantasy novel right now.

All these years, Disney has been in an advantageous position with their animated films largely being adaptations of previous works, since they're already given a lot of the parameters a writer needs to build a world, plot, and characters. In a Snow White adaptation, for instance, you need a vain queen, an innocent princess, a prince, seven dwarfs, a magic mirror, and a poisoned apple, as well as a fairy tale world where these things fit comfortably. And since so much mainstream fantasy is largely inspired by medieval Europe, that aesthetic remains very familiar with audiences to the point that you need a lot less explanation for things. We don't really need an explanation for the political landscape of Cinderella because we see "fairy tale kingdom" and immediately know it's an absolute monarchy led by generally amiable rulers. We're not surprised when fairies appear in Sleeping Beauty, or when a magical sword predicts who should be king in The Sword in the Stone, or when Tiana and Naveen are turned into frogs in The Princess and the Frog, or when trolls appear in Frozen -- all of these magical conventions fit within the usual fantasy aesthetic and really don't need any explanation or backstory. I'd hazard to say that most people -- aside from those nitpicky critic types who get all hung up on how many servants are in Beast's castle just because they saw a bunch of extra silverware in the Be Our Guest sequence -- just don't bother questioning these things. And the original material also gives some shape and form to the adaptation's story, characters, and overall feel. It doesn't matter how close the finished product matches the original idea or even how familiar the audience is with that original material -- it still provides a jump-off point and sense of focus for the writer(s), the same way fanfiction (even an AU fanfic) can, in contrast to original content.

All right, well, what about those Disney projects that aren't fantasy? Well, in the case of stories like Treasure Planet, Robin Hood, and Mulan, they're still based off preexisting properties that people will find familiar enough that the writers can focus more on the adaptation's unique additions and not focus on detailed backstories and explanations about how the world and societies depicted in the story work. It's a lot easier to just focus on the fantastical elements like the space tech, talking animals, or Mushu and the ancestors if the rest of the story and cast are relatively easy to understand. Even in the case of original stories like The Lion King (which admittedly was largely inspired by Shakespeare's Hamlet, but I digress), Lilo and Stitch, and Lady and the Tramp, they still exist in a non-magical world that closely resembles ours, with only superficial changes like animals being able to talk or the existence of aliens. Even quasi-historical settings like The Great Mouse Detective and Atlantis: The Lost Empire look enough like our real-world equivalent that their settings are largely recognizable to us.

In just about all Disney animated films, the screenwriters didn't have to world-build that much. They didn't have to put the character development and plot on hold to explain the rules of the universe these stories take place in that often -- not unlike how writers like Rick Riordan didn't have to explain as much about the country his hero Percy Jackson lives in, because his books are an urban fantasy where our real world is just "plused up" with magical elements. We don't need to know if gravity works on the story's characters the way it does for us. We don't need to be told about the political landscape, history, or terrain of our location. We don't need to ask whether dying is something our characters can come back from.

Wish, on the other hand, is an original story in a high fantasy setting that doesn't resemble our world. People might try to claim it takes place in the Iberian Peninsula, but come on -- Rosas is a completely fictional country in a world that has magic we don't know the rules of and countries that faintly resemble cultures from our world, but we don't know the histories of or how similar they actually are to their real-world inspiration. We also have a cast of characters we've never met in any other media and a story and messages that we know nothing about beforehand. This means that we have no preexisting framework going in for what's possible and impossible in this world; no frame of reference about who these characters are and what their histories are; and no parameters that the plot, characters, and themes must fit inside, whether based on the fantastical story being adapted or a real-world setting that's a lot like ours. And I don't think that Disney really thought through just how challenging it can sometimes be to tell this kind of a story without stuffing the script with a lot of "tell" and not "show," which, as just about any film person can tell you, is the exact opposite of what you generally want. In film scripts, you want to show your audience a lot more than you tell them -- this not only takes full advantage of the visual medium and communicates your point in a much more natural and artistic way, but it also lets your audience think for itself and come to its own conclusions.

Now of course, can you write a high fantasy original story that's easy to follow and evokes a lot of emotion in your audience? Of course! But it does take time and a lot of careful and creative world-building. J.R.R. Tolkien was the king of such things. George R. R. Martin has done it. Neil Gaiman has done it. Ursula K. Le Guin has done it. Even the writer of the Nimona graphic novel, ND Stevenson, did a good job of it! But I think it's quite clear that Wish's script was not in the works that long -- development of the original idea started back in 2018, yes, but it wasn't until January 2022 that it was announced Jennifer Lee was writing it and Julia Michaels was brought on to write the songs, so the film's current trajectory likely wasn't pinpointed until then. And if the film was released in November 2023, then that means Wish's script was finished in under two years. Although there are successful Disney scripts that I daresay needed only that much time (Frozen, for instance, was quite rushed, by all accounts), once again, those scripts were done for stories with some sort of preexisting framework that allowed the writers to skip explaining certain visual or contextual short-hand in favor of focusing on their own creative flourishes in character and story. They were written with a tighter focus on the plot and its players without the need to build a complete stage under them.

The reason some people want to cry "AI!" when they look at Wish's writing is that they're looking at a script that makes the rookie writing mistake of exposition-dumping in an attempt to make its audience care, rather than evoking emotion. That kind of exposition-dumping is something that most novelists usually have to trim and rewrite in future drafts of their work: it's a mistake done while the writer is trying to world-build enough that their audience understands all of these original rules, societies, locations, and characters they're not familiar with. This exposition is then often trimmed down before publishing, and when adapted for the screen it's often trimmed even further or even completely rewritten, in favor of more visual methods of conveying the same information. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz writes about Dorothy traveling down the Yellow Brick Road and about the long journey that takes her and her friends through a lot of side adventures on their way to the Emerald City: it's the famous film adaptation that cuts out the Kalidahs and puts the whole trip to jaunty music for the characters to sing and dance to. Wish could've communicated to us the importance of the wishes to their owners through more visual means, but instead feels the need to reiterate this idea over and over through written dialogue. And again, this is a common mistake by writers when they're inexperienced in creating completely original content, as opposed to spin-offs, sequels, or adaptations of other people's work.

AI writing is generally known for repetitive phrasing and sentence structure, lack of accuracy, and lack of a personal touch. As much as I'll agree that there are a lot of character and world-building choices in Wish that don't make sense, I don't think that's the same thing. There clearly was a story someone (or multiple people) wanted to tell about a person hoarding the precious ideas of other people away, even if it means those ideas can never be shared with the world -- it just wasn't a story that ended up being told that well. And I think this is why Wish is almost worth seeing -- it serves as a good example of why certain writing decisions work better than others and how writing for fantasy projects and/or "family entertainment" is an art form that's worthy of respect when it's done right.

To sum up my stance on the matter -- I think Disney just bit off way more than it could chew and then didn't give its writers enough time to properly digest it.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

~ An escape or the last stand ~

warning for all chapters : Minors don't interact please this is really not for you. This is a dark fanfiction the whole thing is Dead Dove : Do not eat content. Mental Instability , blood & violence , kidnapping , sexual assault , rape , threesome , blood kink , obsession , injury , Predator/Prey , Angst , smut , Jealousy , dark themes , sexual fantasy , blood kink , knife play , just the normal hardcore Slasher things

Summary : The wedding ceremony in the church is done. But so quickly husbands can change. She now her wife. Your prey. your obsession, your property. To the wedding belongs the night. The night when the husband sleeps with his chosen one. But when one is cursed again. How will the actual beautiful night turn out. and will they treat her well or stick a knife in her heart?

next chapter, masterlist

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For a moment everything was quiet in the church and she thought that was it now. Either it was all just a sick dream of Freddy or maybe she was already dead. But when Eddie approached her and knelt down in front of her, the girl took a step back. ,,No, darling, it's just the ring," Eddie purred, pulling out a small box. Then he took her hand and almost all the presents fell down. Which is why she stood there, slightly tense, trying not to drop Micheal's knife and risk a bleeding foot.

With one swift movement the ring was on her finger and the cold metal filled in a sick way to her shame.

Eddie stood up and looked down at his bride with a smile. ,,You may now kiss your bride given in marriage before God," they heard the priest say.

She wanted to move away from here but when she felt Eddie's hand on her back and how he pulled her towards him she knew it was inevitable. ,,My beautiful wife" he whispered to her before he put his lips on hers.

To her surprise there was a mix of love and almost shyness in the kiss as he let go of her lips. I will never get out of here again she thought desperately and escaped Eddie's grip. He had let go of her and Y/N was pushed against the altar. Only then did she notice the alert eyes of the others and her fear tightened her throat.

They no longer looked at her as a human being, they saw her as their obsession. She was their new exquesite prey. She knew that meat that had to be hunted tasted better than store-bought. Suddenly the men rose and Eddie held out his hand to her. ,,Come my flower, it's time for the wedding night," he said cheerfully and gave her a smile.

But she didn't feel like rejoicing, she felt like screaming and crying. Panic gripped her body, but with the dress and all the gifts she would not get far, she had to admit to herself.

When Eddie became impatient and took her hand, he pulled her as gently as he could between his changes, first behind and then beside him. The silent killers Jason , Michael , Thomas and Vincent walked behind the couple and cut her off to the rear.

Billy and Stu as well as Bo and Brahms walked in front of them and the four of them kept looking back at her. She was clearly aware of the grinning and whispering and it made her uncomfortable.

Next to her and Eddie walked Freddy and Pennywise and she heard the rubbing of the blades and the popcorn smell of the clown. It was a strange mixture between dust, blood, musty and dirty hung the sweetly tantalizing smell she loved as a child. ,,Like a stupid animal," Pennywise muttered and the balloon on her wrist magically moved slightly left and right.

The way out of the church compartment was much too fast for her and she felt nervousness taking over her body with every step. It was horrible to run towards her fate without being able to do anything.

The only thing she prayed for was that they wouldn't all jump on her at the same time. Otherwise she would probably prefer the jump out of the window or her husband's knife sooner than she thought.

The move to the main building was barely visible but she knew from the small twitch on Eddie's hand that his anticipation was rising. ,,Almost there, sweetheart" she heard the dirty giggle of Bo who let his eyes wander down her form.

It wasn't until they turned into the hallway and she recognized the door to her room where she fainted that she tried to escape his grasp. ,,Please-please don't no," she begged Eddie who had a firm grip on her hand. He stopped abruptly and looked at her in confusion.

His eyes shone a strange mixture of incomprehension and confusion. ,,But darling, what is it? I promise it will be beautiful. Just think of the children, they will look as beautiful as you, my dear," he tried to cheer her up in his own way.

At the word children, she looked at Eddie, startled. I'm as good as dead, was all she could think of, and fear gripped her. She knew that if she didn't kill herself, it would come out later anyway, and then she would be of no use to the murderers. ,,I-ehm..." she stammered, but fell silent and hung her head slightly.

The light flickered in the hallway and the shadows of the eleven people looked monstrous. She was the Lamb, and the others were the big bad wolf, snarling and licking its teeth at the meat. All at once Eddie's hand stroked her cheek and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

But the look that was confused before was now fixating as if he didn't want to let her go. ,,Honey are you still a virgin?" he asked her and a smile that reminded her of obsession scared her.

Before she could even explain the situation, the dream demon interrupted her. ,,My little one is certainly not a virgin anymore, sorry to spoil your fun," came from Freddy who gave a dark chuckle and his face came out from under his hat.

Suddenly Eddie let go of her and took a step towards Freddy.His expression changed completely and he seemed to be completely out of it. Anger and aggression seemed to have completely taken over his mind.Without warning, he lunged and tried to hit the older man. Anger and aggression seemed to have completely taken over his mind.

Without warning, he lunged and tried to hit the older man. Freddy dodged with a grin and the blades came out of one of Eddie's knives. This is my only chance she thought with a jerk, dropping everything but the knife she was clutching and running past the distracted killers.

In fact, Michael and Jason seemed to be expecting her and tried to grab her. She ducked and her hands clutched the white dress which tore at her legs with a jerk.

She heard Eddie shouting something after her, but she just kept running.

She felt ironic about the whole situation. A few hours ago or more, she didn't know, she had already run away once and now she was running around again in a broken wedding dress.

It was cold and goosebumps formed on her skin it was uncomfortable she hated it. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her. But she knew she had to get to the elevator to reach the top floor to find the exit and get to her car.

A tour of each floor was like a tour of wherever you started, you would always come back to the elevator, or so she hoped. So she ran on, clutching the knife and still unsullied, no blood on the blade but that would soon change.

She heard footsteps behind her and she knew it was all just a matter of time until they had her. ,,Come back now, darling!" she heard the cry of Eddie, who had apparently left Freddy earlier than expected. She thought for a moment, but no matter how many times she went through the scenario, she never had a chance against any of the eleven. Especially against the clown she was as good as powerless. She would not get her fear under control here.

She turned the corner and she hoped that it would not take long until she came to the elevator. But when she heard a crack in the wall, she gulped.

It's Brahms, she thought, and walked away from the wall.It was true that she might not be able to do anything against the killers, but she had to at least try to escape, otherwise it would be the only thing she would ever have known.

As said before, Brahms came out of the wall with a leap and tried to grab her. However, since the girl was too far away, he reached into the void. ,,Come back to me, I'll be good too!" he assured her, but his tone became vicious and she sobbed.

Her lungs and legs were racing and the fabric of her dress was getting more and more ragged from the poor sewing. When she arrived at a room she knew that hiding and waiting was the best option. She closed the door and walked backwards into the room. But it was dark and she could not see her hand in front of her eyes.

She was only aware of her own heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat. The knife was still held convulsively. ,,My little one, come back to your husband," she heard it whisper before a tongue ran across her cheek. She recoiled from Freddy and ran toward the door, knocking over a stack of chairs to block the way. ,,You really think little Y/N is going to stop me, stupid girl?" he shouted after her, laughing which increased her heartbeat.

She ran on and prayed that she would finally reach the elevator.

She was hardly aware of the spider webs around her until she began to get tangled in them and they began to cover her arms and legs, and she cut them with her knife. ,,My...wife, there you are, come to Pennywise," the redhead quipped, and she ducked away under a claw. ,,Leave me alone you miserable clown!" she screamed at him and tried to hit him with the blade as she couldn't find any other way to get out of here. Only when she saw the clown's glowing eyes did she back away in fear. He began to drool as if he were feasting on her performance.

,,So juicy and delicious come here my Y/N" he demanded and made a leap towards her. Out of survival instinct, she raised the knife and held it protectively in front of her. She heard the tearing of cloth and bells followed by an amused giggle.

When she looked, the knife was up to the hilt in the clown's chest and a misty mass came out. ,,This has all become much more interesting. Run, my wife, entertain me. Come on, run!" he shouted at her and in one movement the spider threads disappeared. Pennywise took a step backwards and escaped the blade before disappearing into the darkness. ,,What's going on here?" she muttered and looked around. Everything the clown had brought had disappeared, but she was glad that he had let go of her.

She made a relieved noise when she saw the elevator a few meters ahead of her. She slammed the grate of the elevator shut and let herself fall against the wall before pressing the button for the top floor.

But startled, she opened her eyes when she heard a familiar voice. ,,Darling, come here now. Come back to me...now!" Eddie shouted at her, his hands shaking the elevator. ,,I-no, please go away," she stammered, pressing herself harder against the wall of the elevator. ,,I'm not done with you yet. You're not going to break up our marriage!" he called after her before the elevator went up.

Trembling but relieved to finally get upstairs, she breathed in and out. Everything will be fine, just don't lose your nerve, she reminded herself, knowing that if she did get out, therapy would be the best thing for eternity. But when the elevator stopped on the second floor, she frantically pressed the button to continue. ,,It didn't work like that, sweetheart.

You see, the old thing took a while, you know, for the patients. Now come here," came from Bo who was pushing his way into the elevator. She screamed and dodged Bo before catching his hand with the knife. ,,Oh we're gonna get you my bitch," he said before running after her.

She ran again, afraid it might be her last moment. Briefly she turned her head and saw that Bo had slowed down, but she didn't know why. ,,Vincent grab her," she heard and wondered. But when she turned the corner and two knives with a dragon handle bored into the wall in front of her head, she looked at the wax figure maker in panic. The black-haired man emerged from the darkness and Y/N ran on, feeling him coming closer with each step.

Only when she felt a pain on her arm did she cry out. Vincent had thrown one of his knives at her and it had left a bleeding gash on her arm. Only the clang of the knife could be heard as it fell to the ground. The warm blood ran down her arm and began to soak the dress.

Under other circumstances this would be astetic, but in her present case she had nothing but disgust and fear for it. She ran around one of the many corners before skidding over an overturned table and looking back, gasping. She breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn't see Vincent in the dim light.

Slower than necessary to avoid toppling over from exertion, she continued through the second floor. She knew that each floor was only a circuit, but it still seemed so long to the elevator.

The knife was still in her hand with only a splash of Bo's blood on the blade. Better him bleeding than me she thought to herself and held the wound on her arm. Only now did she look down at her dress with distaste. After it was torn, it went down to her knee and some scraps of fabric were hanging down. What was once pure and innocent was now torn and stained.

She stopped and her eyes searched the darkness as she heard grunting, almost animalistic noises.

,,Thomas" she whispered and started to run, and only a few moments later the sparks of the chainsaw lit up the hallway. Despite the fact that the machine was heavy and she herself could not hold it up for long, Thomas seemed to have no problem chasing it through the halls. The sound of the chainsaw rang in her ears she hated it.

It was loud and she knew one hit with that thing would probably be enough to cut her in half or completely incapacitate her and then she would be done for. ,,Stop it Thomas please!" she begged as she felt the metal almost against her back. Suddenly the sound of the chains turning stopped and only the whirring of the engine could be heard. Y/N continued to run but looked back as if her words had stopped him.

But this was not the reason why she backed away and almost tripped over her own feet. ,,Jason" she whispered and the man with the machete looked down at her.

For a moment she thought he would leave her alone, just like Thomas. But when Jason went for his machete and lunged, she cried out. As best as she could, she rolled to the side before she pulled herself up and dodged the machete again. The machete got caught in the wall and Jason seemed to need a moment before he could come at her again. She took her chance and ran away again. ,,Come on, just a little longer," she reminded herself, making a delighted noise when she saw the elevator. She jumped in, pressed the button and was relieved to see that the system had caught up again. Just in time the elevator rose and the machete and the two knives flew towards the elevator but bounced off with a ringing sound and fell loudly to the floor.

She shakily took her hand away from her wound and saw that it was also now full of blood. She almost lost the knife and wiped her slippery fingers on the white fabric. Calmly just through the top floor and then out of here. You're back home and then everything will be fine she thought and a few moments later the door opened.

Slowly at first and then running, she ran through the upper floor. The air was cooler up here through the demolished windows but she didn't care. She breathed in the oxygen and was glad that she got some. ,,Hey beauty come here. Yeah, come join us, let's have some fun and watch a movie," purred the voices of Billy and Stu, the two older ones seeming to make fun of her insecurity.

Only when she cried out in fear when she saw the two with the Ghostface masks coming out of the darkness towards her did they run towards her.  ,,Please let me please!" she screamed at them and she screamed again when she was grazed by two blades. The knives of the two had hurt her even if only slightly on her shoulder, which was slightly open because of the dress. ,,I'm going to have so much fun my new Sidney" Billy said and Stu only made an annoyed noise. ,,She's ours, Billy ours!" snapped Stu, his jealousy clearly audible.

Fucked up but Interesting relationship, she thought, although there was no worse time to think of such a thing.

She looked back at the two of them and saw Billy stop his friend. They mumbled something and took off their masks. ,,The shadow will get you darling" Billy called after her and they both stopped before waiting in the darkness. The shadow. She thought about it, but her thoughts were too confused for her to sort them out.

But it didn't matter, she saw the exit and pulled the last reserves out of her. She sprinted out as fast as she could. She saw her car, which she had parked behind the barrier, untouched. But there was no greater joy than seeing the vehicle. She had a consumed grin on her lips as she stood in front of her car. She reached for the door's opener and faltered. It was locked.

She tried again, but when she realized she needed a key, she reached into the void. ,,The key, the damn key," she muttered and her fist collided with the glass. Hissing, she pulled back, but stopped when she saw someone standing behind her in the reflection of the glass. ,,Michael" came like a breath over her lips before the man cut her off with his hands.

The knife in her hand was held trembling in front of her and she looked up at Michael in fear. He was breathing loudly as if he was exhausted no rather excited but why she did not know and that made her afraid.

One last try she thought to herself and she took it in her stride to run all the way home. She gripped the knife tighter and stabbed at Michael's chest.

But with a speed she would not have expected, he grabbed her wrist and held it so tightly that she dropped the knife. The killer leaned down and came closer, but Y/N jerked away.

His hand ran over the wound on her arm and she hissed. He paused to watch her for a moment before his hand went to her hair. ,,Please let me go," she pleaded softly. His head turned slightly and behind the mask the two eyes watched her.

With a jerk he had grabbed her head and with two blows against the car she sank unconscious from the force into his arms.

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

[dabiralovesfun]

In My Shadows. 2

Ateez Fanfiction

To understand the enigma that is Aurora, one must first understand the history behind it.

The beginning of the 1800s was a tumultuous and violent time for the country. The people had no other hobby than killing their leaders and destroying public property. Violence was the order of the day and it seemed nothing could stop it. Anarchy was creeping near. sniffing around.

Enter Kim Haejoong. A man with a solution.

The people had simple demands; Down with the government and class system, equal distribution of wealth and taxes.

Kim Haejoong had a simple solution; Kill them all.

Very simple.

Haejoong was the Supreme leader, and he had no intention of ever letting go. Equal distribution? Bullshit, down with the government? He WAS THE GOVERNMENT, and he sure as hell wasn't ready to die. Down with the class system? How about down with you! But he needed help. The upper-class supported him, of course. He was saving their gold plated asses. But it wasn't enough, the people still outnumbered them. He needed help. And fast.

Enter Selyse Nightengale.

A slim woman with a beauty that made her look deadly. Like a lion, ready to pounce and devour. Her black hair, pale skin, and blood red lips unnerved everyone she came across.

Selyse had a plan. The shadow Cult. She claimed she had spiritual ways to solve the countries issues.

Haejoong called bullshit. He had never believed in spirituality. It was war and victory that got him here, not God or angels.

But Selyse pressed, she wasn't asking him to become a priest or fast. "Conquer.blood with blood" she said.

Haejoong thought she had gone mad, but he was running desperate. The army was loosing to the people, and the violence was getting close to the capital.

Haejoong decided to give the mad woman a chance. It wouldn't cost him anything. If he failed, she died. No biggie.

June 5th, 1870

All the upper-class families gathered in the dead of night, Selyse stood in front of them in a dark red dress holding a bowl.

"We begin"

They all stepped forward to pierce their fingers on a blade and let the blood drip into the bowl.

When the last man was done, selyse began to sing in a shrill voice. The night seemed to get sing in response.

After a while, she covered the bowl.

"It is done."

In a month, all the revolutionary leaders had died strange, violent deaths. Just like that. The people grew scared and Haejoong grew happier. He found it easier to do what he did best.

Surpress and opress.

Selyse was granted riches, and she became a main advisor to Haejoong... Some upperclassmen even whispered lover.

Finally, the country was stabilised, and all thought it was over.

The Shadows had not gotten the memo, though, the murders continued. Violent, evil, and sadistic.

Haejoong couldn't care less, all the deaths were common people.

The families that shed blood that night would never be affected.

Aurora Academy was set up in 1876 to cater to the elites of the capital and as a show of wealth and power.

But there was more to it.

Aurora was created for protection. Why? The families that pleged to the Shadows didn't even know. All they knew is their descendants must attend Aurora or die.

And so it was. Generation after generation. Until it became tradition.

Haejoong was content. He had secured his dynasty. Now his descendants will rule just as he had. Strong and unbreakable.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hongjoong felt like puking. The bodies were so mutilated you almost couldn't see their faces. But he couldn't break in public, he was a future leader. He had to be strong. Unbreakable. A warrior. A Victor. Just like- Just like Kim Haejoong.

His brain started to fail him. His vision becoming blurry. Be strong. Strong. Unbreakable. Victorious.

"Hongjoong-a."

A hand gently held him. He looked up, Seonghwa.

"I'm fine." He couldn't afford to say anything else.

"Stop lying."

Thanks for reading this also. I promise it will come together. Trust the process😉. Luv youuu❤️

[q-gorgeous]

Broken Dashed Ladybug Chapter 3

ao3

fanfiction

hehehehe

Danny opened the door to his house as he yawned and stepped inside. So far it had been a rare day where the Purple Empress hadn’t sent out any akuma attacks. He’d been able to sleep last night and stay awake during his classes. He didn’t like to think about what she might be planning but he was grateful for the break nonetheless. 

Sam stepped in behind him and shut the door. 

“Hey, kiddos!” His dad shouted from where he sat at the kitchen table. “How was school?” 

Danny shrugged. “Pretty ordinary. Nothing out of the norm.”

His mom looked up and squinted at him. “Does that mean Ladybug and Chat Noir did or did not attack the school today? It happens pretty often.”

He rolled his eyes and walked to the fridge with Sam. “Ladybug and Chat Noir fight the people who attack the school. But no, there was no attack today. Just a regular ol’ day of school.” He pulled out his leftover noodles from the night before and one of Sam’s pre-made salads before he put his food in the microwave.

“Can never trust a ghost. Especially not those two ghosts.” Jack shook his head.

“You’re still going on about ghosts?” Jazz said as she walked into the room. “I thought you would be done with them when your portal never turned on.”

“Jazz, honey, just because the portal didn’t turn on doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real.” She looked up from the notes she was scouring. “It just means that we need to reevaluate what went wrong and check our calculations.”

Jazz rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair next to Sam and pulled a book out of her bag. Danny sat down on Sam’s other side and took a bite of food. 

“Why are we talking about ghosts anyways?” She opened the book and leaned back in the chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir got brought up.” Sam pulled the top off of her salad bowl. 

“I’ll get those spooks one of these days!” Jack shook his fist in the air. 

“Dad for the last time, Ladybug and Cat Noir aren’t ghosts.” Danny rolled his eyes and stabbed at his food with his fork. 

“How do you know that?” Sam asked, smirking at him. She put a piece of lettuce in her mouth, chewing and swallowing before she continued. “They can do all these incredible things and you think it’s a result of some magical powers? It has to be ghosts.”

Danny shot a look at her. “Who’s side are you on? You believe in ghosts but not magic?”

Sam shrugged. “Does it matter whether or not they’re magic or ghosts? How do we know we can trust them?”

“They save the city every day.” Jazz butt it from across the table. “Why wouldn’t we be able to trust them?” 

“What about the amount of property damage they cause?” Maddie said. “Ladybug himself causes a lot of destruction, aside from the akuma.”

Danny winced but before he could say something Jazz was shooting a retort back across the table. 

“But he also reverses all of the damage afterwards. We wouldn’t have anyone that would be able to fix anything if it weren’t for Ladybug.”

Maddie scoffed. “So we should praise him for having the ability to clean up his friends' messes?”

“Ladybug and the Purple Empress are not friends!”

Everyone looked up at Danny at his shout. Sam sat frozen for a few moments, her fork in the air, before she looked back down to her bowl. Danny shrank down. 

“I just don’t get why you want to lump him and Chat Noir together with a literal terrorist. Whether or not they’re ghosts or magic, they’re not friends with her. They’re just trying to help people.” 

Maddie fidgeted with her fingers and sighed. “What are we to assume? That all of these ‘miraculous wielders’ that suddenly showed up at the same time don’t have any relation to one another? It’s highly improbable.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “They don’t even know each other’s real names. The only relation is between Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“How do you know that?” Sam shot a glance at him. 

Jazz rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and leaned forward over the table to catch Sam’s attention. “If they had any relation with the Purple Empress she wouldn’t be sending minions to get their miraculous for her. She would just ask them herself. Duh.” 

“Yeah.” Danny pointedly gestured at Jazz. “If she knew their real names she would just attack their civilian identities when they were least suspecting it. But they know nothing about each other because they’re not friends.”

His mom scrunched up her face. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

“Even if they’re not friends, you still gotta watch out for them nasty ghosts.” His dad pointed his screwdriver at Danny and he groaned. 

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Ghosts aren’t real, dad. Ladybug and Chat Noir wield miraculous. They’re just normal people. They live normal lives.” She waved her hand in the air. “Except for, you know, the superhero thing.”

Maddie opened her mouth to respond to Jazz. “They-“ 

A knock sounded from the door and Jazz stood up. “Oh! It’s time for my tutoring session. Time for all of you to skedaddle.” 

Danny groaned as he and Sam packed up their food, secretly grateful for the interruption to the conversation, and his parents made their way down to the lab. “You couldn’t even wait till we were done eating?” 

“I mean, you could finish eating down here if you want but I don’t think you guys are going to want to stay in the room with him.” 

Danny’s stomach dropped. He groaned. “Not him. Why are you still tutoring him?” 

Jazz turned away from the front door. Another knock sounded. “Because he needs help.” She whisper scolded. “I don’t know if any of you have noticed through your hatred of him, but he’s not doing well right now. He’s lost his spot on the team until he gets his grades back up. So shoo.” 

Danny grumbled as he turned towards the stairs. Sam was already making her way up. He followed behind her and turned to look when he heard the door open.

Dash stepped into the living. He gave Jazz a sheepish smile and thanked her. As Dash closed the door behind him, he glanced up the stairs at Danny and his sheepish smile fell off his face and into disdain. Danny sneered at him and made his way up the rest of the stairs. 

He walked into his room and slammed the door closed behind him. Sam was already sitting in his desk chair finishing up her salad. Danny tossed his bowl of noodles onto his bedside table and flopped down onto his back. 

“I can’t believe Jazz wants to help him.” Sam said in frustration as she spun in Danny’s desk chair. “Does she even know what he did the other day?”

Danny nodded. He was studying the stars glued to his ceiling. “She does but she always insists on seeing the best in people.” 

She shook her head. “There’s nothing good about him. He’s a rotten bully. Maybe the Purple Empress should get her hands on him.”

Danny frowned and sat up to look at her. “Dash is an asshole, but really? You want him to get akumatized?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe it would teach him a lesson.”

He just stared at her. “That’s- thats not how people should be learning lessons. They literally lose themselves when they get akumatized. If he learned a lesson, he wouldn’t even remember it because most people don’t remember what happens while they were akumatized. There’d be no point.”

“Maybe he’d learn that there’s consequences to his actions.” Sam grumbled. 

“Yeah, well, the Purple Empress is gonna have to learn that too.” Danny leaned back against his headboard and picked up his bowl of noodles, taking the lid off. “If she’s ever caught she’s going to go to prison for being a terrorist. Her cause isn’t noble.” 

“What if there’s a reason she’s doing all of this?” Sam stared at him intently. “What if there’s something she’s not telling anyone?”

A bad feeling churned in his gut. The Purple Empress obviously wanted to make a wish. Not that Sam knew that that was what the two miraculous did together. He never stopped to consider what the Purple Empress might actually be wanting to wish for though. 

“The ends never justify the means.” Danny said quietly. “Even if what she wanted was very important, it doesn’t excuse the actions that she took to get there. She’s still hurting people.” 

Sam looked down into her empty bowl of salad. “I suppose you’re right.” 

Danny sighed. “Want to get started on our homework?”

Sam nodded and they got to work on finishing their assignments. But as they worked, Danny couldn’t shake the bad feeling in his gut. He didn’t want to think of the Purple Empress as a person. About what her motivation might be. He didn’t want anything to cloud his judgment or to feel sympathetic for her.

If he had the chance to make a wish, would he? If he had something important enough to wish for? 

He would love to make a wish, no strings attached. But there are always strings. He couldn’t take those chances. He wouldn’t let anyone else take that chance either. 

[kokorosfanfics]

What The Hope Were You Doing? Mondo x Fem!S/O

Plot: You and Mondo are dating and in the same class. Your best friend is Nagito, and you are regularly roped into his bizarre schemes and plans. This time, the great plan to get everyone more time before an exam backfires horrendously and Mondo has to come to the rescue. Inspired by the anime where Nagito blows up the gym, but of course edited and changed up for the plot. (I do NOT condone bombing. This is purely fictional and meant to be harmless. Don't f*cking bomb a place just because you read about it in fanfiction.) -Mod Kokoro

Here you are, sitting in the middle of class and bored out of your mind. The teacher was going off about some subject you really didn't care about, and your boyfriend was asleep next to you. The subject was tiring and hardly anyone besides Taka and Kyoko could follow along. Come to think of it, you could skip and not miss anything crucial. That's when you got a text from your best friend, Nagito.

You pull out your phone to view the notification.

Nagito: Hey, I know I have no business disturbing an Ultimate like this, but I wanted to ask if you were available.

S/O: You're literally my best friend. Also, I am available. I wanted to sneak out class anyways. I can't pay attention to something so boring.

Nagito: Well you see, that's perfect. Do you want to meet me by the school gate?

S/O: Sure thing. On my way now. See you bestie.

You raised your hand.

"Yes S/O?" Your teacher called on you.

"May I use the restroom?"

"Of course."

With that, you excused yourself from the room to make your way downstairs and to the school gate, where your best friend waved you over.

"Hey S/O. Glad you could be here. I'll explain while we walk."

"Ah, I got it. You need my help in a plan for the sake of hope?"

"Exactly! I knew you'd figure that out. As expected of such a hopeful Ultimate!" He praised you.

"Aww you're too sweet. So, what're we doing this time?"

"Well, in my class, everyone is anxious about the next exam. I don't know how it is in yours, but everyone feels like they're not ready. Like they need more time."

You nodded. "Actually, my class is feeling anxious about it as well. They announced it so suddenly, we hardly have any time to prepare! I take it you have a solution?"

"Yes." He stopped to look at you with a dark look in his eyes.

"We're going to blow up the gym."

"W-WHAT?" You gasped, taken completely aback. You knew your best friend could be a little crazy sometimes, but this was something new.

"Yeah. I have a plan to blow up the gym. They'll be so focused on repairs, they'll have no choice but to suspend the exams."

"We are going to cause grievous property damage.... For an EXAM?"

"I want my classmates to succeed. That includes you. I don't want to see the symbols of hope succumb to despair. This has to be done."

He had a point. This was weighing down on everyone, and here you're presented a way to fix it. Most people would say "That's fucking stupid." And probably report it, but you knew Nagito. His luck helped him excel and succeed in nearly everything he set out to do, or got into. You could understand him, and empathize with him. You knew him like no one else did. So, after a deep breath, you answered.

"Alright. As long as we don't kill anyone, and nobody is harmed, then, I'm in."

His smile grew wide and he let out a laugh. "Oh it's beautiful! To see an Ultimate such as yourself agree to take on such a plan so hope may prevail! I'm truly honored to have the privilege of working with you."

"It's your idea, and I'm really agreeing because your my best friend and I trust you. I have 100% faith in you. I know how much hope means to you, and it's become important to me too."

"Mondo should consider himself lucky to be with such an outstandingly hopeful Ultimate! I bet he'd be so proud right now!"

Actually, if Mondo knew of this discussion, Nagito's face would have a fist in it and you'd be getting a LONG talk on how dangerous bombs are and all the trouble you could get into. Taka would even help him. But you don't tell him that.

"Ah, yeah let's actually keep this a secret between us. Don't wanna get arrested or sued for this."

"Haha, good point. But in case we do, I'm sure Fuyuhiko has connections to bail us out."

"True, but let's not chance it. If we can help it, of course. Hehe." You giggled. This actually sounds like an exciting project.

"Right. I don't want to get arrested either. Plus, your boyfriend might kill me if I got you into legal trouble. I wouldn't blame him either."

"Sooo, how are we gonna blow it up?" You asked with enthusiasm, finally getting pumped up for this insane plan of yours.

"Well, my pharmacist friend let's me roam around the cabinets with all her stuff. I already have everything we need to build the bombs. There's an abandoned warehouse not too far from here. It'll give us the space and privacy we need. I also got us some gloves, goggles, and other safety equipment."

"Awesome! Let's go! For hope!" You cheered.

"Yes! For hope!"

With that, you and Nagito made your way to the abandoned building and got to work. You put on your gloves and goggle and got to it. During which, you two talked about anything that came to mind, school, video games, anything really. But then you realized something. There was more that needed to be thought of.

"Wait so, how are we going to make sure it doesn't get traced back to us? I mean, they're going to investigate, and they'll see we don't have alibis. Also, how are we going to plant them and then set them off without getting caught in the blast?"

"Ah that, I'm actually going to just rely on my luck." Nagito laughed it off. Had this been anyone else, you'd be absolutely terrified. But, it was Nagito, and you've seen his luck be legitimate. You knew you could count on him, and trust his luck would protect you both.

So you shrugged. "Alright, that works for me."

"Wow, really? Most people don't like hearing when I say that."

"I'm not like most people. Plus, I know you well enough to believe in your luck. And you're my best friend. So, I trust you. If you say your luck will cover us and keep us safe, then I believe you wholeheartedly. I have no reason not to."

You could've sworn a tear rolled down his eye.

"Such hopeful, inspiring words of friendship! You fill me with so much hope!"

"Aww, I'm glad." You smiled at him.

Then, your phone started to buzz. At first you ignored it, but in a few minutes it started buzzing even more. Repeatedly.

"Hey I think you should check that. You should probably turn off notifications so you don't get distracted." Your friend suggested.

"Yeah you're right. Alright gimme a moment."

You opened your phone to find notifications from Mondo, Chihiro, Leon, and Taka.

Mondo: Hey babe. I heard you went to the bathroom a while ago and haven't come back. Teach sent Sayaka to check on you. She says you weren't there. What's going on?

Mondo: Babe? You there?

Mondo: I'm getting nervous. Please answer me.

Mondo: Chihiro just told me he saw you out the window a while ago to meet a friend and walk off. At least warn me before you skip. But where are you guys going?

Mondo: HELLO?????? I'M GETTING NERVOUS HERE?????

"Uh, hey S/O you alright?" Nagito noticed the guilty look on your face.

"It's my boyfriend. He's getting anxious and wants to know where I am."

"Just tell him you went to catch up with your bestie. You're technically not lying. If you feel bad omitting what we're doing, you can just tell him after the fact. I doubt he'd rat out his girlfriend."

"You're right. Alright hold up."

S/O: Hey love! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you texted me. Yeah, I'm with my best friend right now. I would've told you, but you were asleep and I didn't wanna wake you.

Mondo: I'm glad you're okay and you care about my sleep, but where are you two? You know I worry about your safety.

"He's asking where we are."

"Tell him you're helping me on an important project. Again, not a lie."

S/O: We just went to go help him on a really important science project. That's all.

Mondo: Okay. You want me to tell the teacher you threw up and decided to just head home?

S/O: Yeah that would be great actually. Thanks love.

Mondo: Np Sweetheart.

You decided to see what your other notifications are.

Leon: Don't tell him I sent this.

There was an attachment. A video of Mondo being anxious about where you were and asking if you were okay. He becomes progressively more anxious when there's no response from him texting you. It was cute, and it made you chuckle, but you still felt bad. Hopefully he won't find out about what this "science project" actually was.

Chihiro: Hey, S/O. Mondo is really worried about you. You don't really ever skip class and Yasuhiro is saying he's predicted you're in a dangerous situation. Can you please tell him you're fine?

S/O: Don't worry I just did.

Finally, Taka's texts.

Taka: S/O, skipping class is not welcome in a school environment. Sayaka has reported you aren't in the restroom like you said you'd be. After school I would like an explanation.

S/O: Well last time I checked getting people sick wasn't welcome in a school environment so I don't know what you want me to do here.

Taka: Yes, Mondo just told us you threw up. I am so sorry, please forgive what I said.

S/O: Don't worry I forgive you. Later!

You turned off your notifications after that to prevent further distraction.

"Alright, Mondo told them I wasn't feeling well and threw up. So I guess I'm covered."

"I knew we'd turn out fine." Your friend smiled.

You resumed building the explosives together.

"Finally! We're done. I'm thinking tomorrow morning, we'll get there early and plant them before school starts. We'll come back at normal time, blend in with everyone else, and they'll be set off just in time so no one enters." Nagito explained.

"Let's go a step further. I wanna place a DO NOT ENTER sign in front of the gym, just to make sure nobody goes inside." You suggested.

"Good idea. As expected of an Ultimate."

You and Nagito went home, him carrying the bags. You went to sleep anticipating the big day tomorrow.

The Next Morning.

Nagito came over at 5:30 A.M. You were both dressed in darker clothing to blend in with darkness in the closed school.

"Alright! Let's do this. For hope." Your friend grinned in wild anticipation.

"Yeah! Let's have a blast." You winked.

"Haha, that's a good one."

And so, you scaled the fence and made your way onto campus grounds. You snuck quietly over to where the gym was.

"You start planting them. I'll locate the DO NOT ENTER sign." You whispered.

"Good call. Come join me as soon you do that." Nagito whispered back.

You located the sign easily, and gently picked it up. You carried it outside the doors, and placed it. This will ensure nobody would blasted to smithereens. Afterwards, you rejoined Nagito.

"Here. Take these- gently. Place them over on the other side, make sure they're covered just enough to not be immediately noticeable, but enough exposure to completely tear this place apart."

"Got it captain." You saluted before you tiptoed your way over.

The bombs were finally placed, and it was time to go home.

"Okay, we got the hardest parts done. I've set them to go off at 7:35. That way, it'll be over before school can actually start, and we get to enjoy the beautiful display of hope we built." Nagito explained.

"Yeah, I like it. Plus, the gym doesn't officially open until 8:00. That plus the sign will guarantee nobody gets hurt or killed."

"And we have to act natural. We need to be as horrified as everyone else to avoid suspicion." He said.

"What? You mean we can't start dancing and cheering about it in the name of hope? Aw man, I was gonna get a boombox and everything!"

Nagito chuckled. "Perhaps we can have an after party at your place afterwards. Or mine. Maybe we'll get a baker to make your favorite cake and spell HOPE with the icing."

"Yup! I love it."

"We'll invite your boyfriend to join us. He might be weirded out, but that's okay."

"Let's invite all our classmates!"

"We're going to need a really big cake."

Before you knew it, you were home already.

"Hey, when does Mondo usually pick you up to take you both to school?" He asked.

"Typically at 7:15. So we'll be on time. It's a rather short drive."

"Ah, that works. Goodnight S/O. See you in a few hours."

"See you, bestie." You hugged him tightly before he left to go to his house.

At 7:15

You had already changed into your usual attire. You brought your bag, even though you wouldn't need it, simply to keep up appearances. Can't have anyone thinking you were involved with the soon to be big explosion.

Right on cue, your boyfriend had pulled into your driveway. You were so excited, you ran out the door before he could knock.

"Mondooooo!" You jumped into his arms.

"Woah! Hey babe, glad to see ya too." He caught you and held you close.

"You seem oddly happy to see me." He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I missed you! Helping Nagito with his science project took forever. We had to stay up to get it done."

"Man, for someone who's supposed to have ultimate luck, he's pretty unlucky to have to pull an all nighter."

"That's true, but it happens. Maybe he'll get an A+ so it cancels out." You felt guilty lying, but you'd fess up when the whole ordeal was done with. Just to him though.

"By the way, why didn't you tell someone sooner you were sick? Taka and I had to convince teach not to write ya up."

"Well, I hadn't thought of that excuse. I guess I was just too eager to get out of class."

"It's fine. You don't normally skip, so it's fine if you hadn't thought of a cover beforehand. Just ah, some warning would be nice. You know I tend to get nervous, especially when it comes to you."

"Awww!!" You reached up to kiss him.

"You're so sweet, love."

"Hey, I'm your boyfriend. It's my job to worry about ya and be all sweet and shit." Mondo blushed.

"Hey, is it true Yasuhiro predicted I was in danger?" Mondo tensed up. He took a sharp breath in.

"Yeah, he scared the fucking shit out of me. I know he's supposed to be 100% right 30% of the time, and regardless of the odds, something like that scares me. So I panicked a bit."

You knew Yasuhiro's predictions weren't far off, you had been handling bombs. But you weren't about to tell him that. At least not yet.

"Well, let's get to school." Mondo picked you up to place you on his bike. The two of you rode off on your way to school.

You were finally here. Mondo parked his bike, Taka, Leon, and Chihiro caught up with you. The five of you began your walk to school.

"Feeling better S/O?"

"Yeah! Much better. Thanks Chihiro."

"S/O, I printed a copy of my notes for you so you won't have to fall behind. Here!" Taka handed you them.

"Aww, thanks!" You placed them in your bag. Turns out it did have an actual use after all.

"You sure you're better?" Leon placed an arm on your forehead.

"She's fine Leon." Mondo responded.

"Good point. She seems more energetic now. Almost like.... She knows she has a super strong boyfriend to worry about her." You knew he was referencing the video he sent you of Mondo panicking. You giggled at that.

"Damn right she does." Mondo placed an arm around you.

You checked your watch. It was 7:29. 6 minutes until the gym was sent to be completely obliterated.

As your group kept walking, you saw Nagito up ahead. He seemed to be walking by himself.

"Hey Nagito!" Chihiro called out to him.

"Oh! You must be S/O's friends. And her boyfriend!" He greeted back.

"So this is your best friend S/O?" Leon asked.

"Yup! We've been besties since middle school." You answered back.

"Ah, I can remember the first time we met! It was just after we were kidnapped, we-"

"WHAAAAAAT?" Everyone except you and Nagito exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, KIDNAPPED? Oh my God, are you two okay?" Taka asked in bewilderment.

"What the FUCK?! Did I hear you right? KIDNAPPED?! Babe, why didn't you tell me this? I woulda beat the shit out of whoever the fuck kidnapped you!" Your boyfriend looked like he could kill a man right now.

"Ah, sorry Mondo. It wasn't some big secret, it just never sorta came up?" You laughed nervously.

"I kind of want to know what happened next." Chihiro muttered.

"Don't worry I'll tell you. So basically, we were trapped, and we formed a plan to escape. It was beautiful! Such hope, it shone so brightly it brought a tear to my eye! We knocked him out and took his phone to call the police. After that we were set free. We realized how much of a great team we could be when we set our hearts together, and we've been the best of friends since then!" Nagito told Chihiro the story.

"You know what, I'm just glad you're both alright. I mean, wow. That's a wild way to make a best friend." Leon spoke.

"I think we're all a little shocked." Chihiro replied.

"Babe, if this guy comes back, lemme know so I can bash his fuckin' skull in."

"I doubt we'll see him again, but if we do you'll be the first to know." You reassured him.

After answering some questions they had on that bombshell of a revelation, you guys made it in. Nagito had to go his own separate way to his class. It wasn't until you sat down, that it dawned on you.

The bombs hadn't gone off.

You checked your phone, 7:37. They should've blasted by now.

You quickly pulled out your phone.

S/O: Hey, Nagito? How's the science project?

You decided to speak in code. Just in case the plan was discovered and completely foiled.

Nagito: It's just my luck, I lost a key component. I think something fell when we walked by the gym. I'm on my way to get it now.

S/O: Need me to come help rebuild it?

Nagito: Yes.

S/O: Coming.

You wanted to bolt out and run to the gym, but not without someone noticing. You raised your hand.

"Yes S/O?"

"M-May I use the restroom?"

"Oh dear, are you still sick?"

"I-I don't know, but I need to go."

"Very well. But if you have to leave campus, please inform me this time."

"I will." You got up and ran, not caring what anyone thought.

You had to get to the gym. Something was wrong with the bombs.

But as you were running there to meet Nagito, you missed an interaction in class.

Toko raised her hand.

"Yes Toko?"

"S-S/O w-was texting class."

"What do you mean?"

"I-I saw on her p-phone. She's actually going to the gym. Her friend wants to meet her there."

Taka spoke up. "But the gym has a DO NOT ENTER sign in front of it! Students aren't allowed in until 8:00!"

Toko shrugged. "Who knows. That Nagito guy is a freak. I heard from his other classmates he goes off on rants about hope and despair all the time, and he's always up to no good. Maybe this time he's involved S/O. Those t-two are probably meeting a-at the gym to blow it up." Yet, she didn't know how accurate that last sentence was.

"HEY! S/O isn't violent. She's my girlfriend, for crying out loud I know her good enough to say she wouldn't ever get involved in any of that crazy shit! If she says she's not feeling well, then she isn't feeling well!" Mondo defended you.

"But... When I checked on her, she wasn't there." Sayaka responded.

Mondo knew you had skipped before, and he doesn't know why you're skipping again already, or even if you are skipping.

"Well how about this." The teacher spoke up.

"Mondo, Taka, Leon and Chihiro. You four are who S/O regularly hangs out with. I want you four to do a thorough search of the gym's perimeter. Sayaka and Toko, search the girl's bathroom. She should be in either of those locations. I don't have an actual assignment planned besides review for the exam, so it isn't an issue to send out that many people."

Everyone agreed, and so the search begins.

Back to you. You found Nagito at the gym entrance.

"*huff* Okay. *huff* What's the plan now?" You panted out.

"We're going to sneak back inside and carefully inspect the bombs to see what went wrong." You followed him as he began to open the door.

"S/O? HEY, WHAT'S GOING ON?" Oh no. That voice. Taka.

You turned around, in the distance was Taka, Mondo, Leon, and Chihiro running towards you.

"SHIT!" Nagito exclaimed. He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside immediately.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He shouted, trying to get under control.

"Nagito, we can't let them in!" You whispered.

He grabbed some boxes and began pushing them in front of the door. You quickly joined him in barricading the door.

"Okay, I think that's heavy enough to keep them out. Let's check on the bombs. And quick." Nagito was beginning to sweat.

"Hey, we still have your luck to fall back on, don't we?"

"You're right. We do."

The two of you went to where the bombs were. You started inspecting.

"Hey, how did you time them?"

"I set it on the bomb itself. I- Oh. That's the problem." He looked down.

"What is it?" You looked down to see. 7:55. Nagito accidentally set it to 7:55 instead of 7:35.

"Whew! Alright, good news. These things are still going off." Nagito cheered.

You both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wait." You realized.

"Hm?" Nagito looked at you.

"It's going to explode with us inside." You told him.

"Um... Shit. I don't suppose we can leave through the doors now."

"What about the window?"

"They're too high up. We can't reach. We'd need to move the boxes to make a staircase." Nagito explained grimly.

"And if we do that, those four will come in the gym! Wait, what time is it?" You checked your watch. 7:50.

"WE'RE GOING TO BLAST WITH THIS PLACE IN FIVE MINUTES IF WE DON'T DO SOMETHING!" You screamed.

"S/O! NAGITO! You heard shouting from the doors. Taka's voice

"Aaaand they're here." Nagito said, calmly.

"HEY? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? S/O ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT THE FUCK IS NAGITO UP TO?"

"M-Mondo! Um, hey we just have stuff to take care of." You replied, trying not to sound anxious.

"OY THEN WHY BARRICADE SO WE CAN'T GET IN?" Leon shouted. You heard what sounded like fists banging on the doors.

Nagito put a hand on your shoulder and whispered into your ear. "My luck hasn't failed me yet. We'll make it. Just trust me."

"I know. I trust you with my life. But we need to still think of something. Only a few moments before this place is going to blast." Unfortunately, you did not whisper, and the four panicked men on the other side heard that.

"BLAST? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BLAST? DON'T TELL ME TOKO GUESSED CORRECTLY?" Leon exclaimed.

"Y-Yesterday, Yasuhiro specifically predicted S/O was in a dangerous situation." Chihiro finally spoke up.

"NAGITO, EITHER YOU LET S/O OUT THIS INSATNT, OR I BEAT YOUR FUCKING FACE IN AND KILL YOU! DON'T WORRY S/O I'M GONNA GET YA OUT OF THERE!" Mondo shouted.

"NAGITO KOMAEDA! BOMBING IS UNWELCOME IN A SCHOOL ENVIRONEMT, AND IF S/O IS HARMED OR KILLED BECAUSE OF YOU, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU ARE EXPELLED! I'LL GO AGAINST YOU IN COURT!" Taka shouted.

"GUYS! You're all forgetting something important!" You yelled.

"WHAT?" They all asked in unison.

"My ultimate talent! I'm my classes ultimate lucky student. My luck has never failed me, so rest assured S/O and I are going to make it just fine!" Nagito calmly explained.

"OHHHHH YOU'RE ASKING FOR A BEATING NOW! YOU RISK MY GIRLFRIENDS LIFE FOR YOUR DUMB WHIMS, AND YOU JUST RELY ON SOME STUPID "LUCK" IN CASE THINGS GO SOUTH!"

"GUYS IT'S FINE! Nagito told me everything yesterday, we agreed to do this together! We did it for everyone! Nagito just wanted to help!"

"HELP? HOW IS BLOWING UP A GYM GOING TO HELP ANYONE?" Taka asked.

"S/O HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" Leon couldn't believe his ears.

"I want to see my classmates succeed, I know how stressed both classes are about the exams. No one is prepared. Doing this will force them to suspend exams, giving everyone more time!" Nagito told them.

"SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT. YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT AN EXAM, AND YOUR NATURAL SOLUTION IS TO CONVINCE YOUR INNOCENT BEST FRIEND TO HELP YOU BLOW SOMETHING UP?" Taka screamed. This wasn't getting better.

"Guys, please! Cut Nagito some slack. Remember, I agreed to it, so I'm just as bad. But it's gonna be alright. Everyone just needs to go back to class, Nagito and I will just get out the gym, it'll explode and we can all go home and laugh this off."

"BOMBING IS NO LAUGHING MATTER!" Taka yelled back.

"S/O, I DON'T KNOW WHAT NAGITO HAS DONE TO YOUR HEAD, BUT HOLY SHIT YOU COULD DIE!" Your boyfriend screamed. You could hear it in his voice, he was tearing up. He thought he was actually going to lose you.

"Oh, love. I know how scary this looks. But don't worry. I'll be on the other side in a moment. We've got this covered." You told him.

Nagito took you by the hand and lead you to the center of the gym. The others kept shouting, but you weren't paying attention.

"I got this trampoline set up. It's going to blast in 30 seconds. I have my watch set. We'll jump together. If we're lucky, the roof will be blown off so we'll jump out smoothly."

"Perfect! I knew we'd be alright." You smiled warmly.

Nagito took your hand in his. You both nodded in unison at each other.

And then it came.

The bombs blew, the place exploding, you both jump as hard as you could. Some of the bombs had been tied to the ceiling. The impact of the blast sent you two even higher, and away from the gyms location. You were so high up you could hardly believe it.

"WOOOOOOAAAAAA!" You both were shot up instantly into the air, before gravity began it's forceful pull. Pulling you both downward. You shut your eyes, gripping each other's hands as hard as you could. You were falling, falling so fast.

But then you landed. You landed, and it felt.... soft? There was the impact, yes, but surprisingly you hardly felt a thing.

"Ah, seems my luck provided us with a cushion." Nagito mused.

You looked around. You were in the back of a truck that happened to be conveniently packed with pillows, and it was conveniently parked walking distance from the school.

"Nagito, look!" You pointed. There it was, the blast that obliterated the gym.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA! OHHH YES! SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DISPLAY OF HOPE! WE'VE DONE IT S/O!" He cheered.

"Oh Nagito this is wonderful! I can feel the hope pulsing within me!" A tear of happiness fell from your eye.

You both exited the truck, and shared a tight embrace.

"Oh, S/O. I knew we could do it! We'll have inspired so much hope!" Nagito cried tears of joy.

"Come on, let's go let them know we're okay!" Before you could take him by the hand, a motorcycle came driving furiously towards you.

"Oh, I think they figured out we're okay." He chuckled.

"Yeeeaaaah.... Do you wanna run so you don't get beat up?"

"Nah, I'm on a good lucky streak."

"Alright."

Finally, the motorcycle with four people on it came to a stop. They all came running to you.

"Hey guys! What's up?" Your bestie asks. You burst out laughing.

"OHHHH YOU KNOW WHAT'S UP YOU GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH!" Your boyfriend was about ready to kill him. You looked at Leon, he looked ready to kill him too.

You quickly moved yourself in front of Nagito with your arms wide out to protect him.

"HOW CAN YOU STILL DEFEND THIS BASTARD?" Leon yelled out.

"He told the truth! We're fine. Everyone is fine."

"S/O. Babe." Mondo hugged you tight.

"I could've lost you! I thought you were going to die. All because, what, some people are scared of a measly fuckin exam?"

"Oh, love." You hugged back. "Shhh. It's okay." You rubbed his back to soothe him.

Mondo sobbed uncontrollably into your arms.

"Nagito..... There WILL be consequences!" Taka exclaimed.

"Oh? But haven't you seen? S/O is completely fine. Happy even! So there's nothing to be concerned about.

"You still could've got the both of you killed! Don't you understand? You can still be arrested for this! They have cameras!" After Taka said this, Mondo's embrace tightened.

"Oh no, I'm actually already hacking into the camera system right now. I'm deleting the footage!" Chihiro chirped happily.

"WH- YOU CAN DO THAT?" Taka questioned.

"Yeah. I'm the ultimate programmer. I'm also seeing how exactly they went and did this." Chihiro showed everyone his laptop.

"So here we see them climbing the fence. They're entering, S/O comes out to place the sign. Then in the gym, here they are getting set up. Now they're climbing out." Chihiro deleted their footage, ensuring no one would be caught.

"Fuck. S/O, please. Don't scare me like that again." Mondo cried out through sobs.

"Hey, it's alright. I promise I won't blow up any more gyms, mkay?" You kissed his forehead.

"So uh, when they start investigating, I don't care what happens to Nagito, but we don't want S/O going to jail. They'll notice her odd behavior days before the blast, plus what Toko told us." Leon explained.

"Don't worry Leon. We have more than just my luck, one of the ultimates in my class is a Yakuza leader! He'll make sure we aren't arrested." Nagito tried to reassure Leon.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" They all shouted.

"But it might not come to that. Nagito's luck hasn't failed us at all!" You chirped happily.

Eventually, the police were unable to find evidence as to what happened to the gym. The case was dismissed, and the exam was canceled entirely. People were still shook from the whole ordeal, but there was still a happy ending. Just exactly as planned. How hopeful! You had to give your boyfriend lots of assurance that you won't do something like that again. Yeah, he was really shaken, poor guy. At least everyone is fine now.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Choose Me

Viktor x afab!fem!reader

Chapter 9

Summary: You are "salvageable."

Chapter 8

Here is a link to the updated Masterlist of the series.

Warnings: VIEWER DISCRESSION IS ADVISED! Some real Frankestien shit this chapter. Descriptions of a corpse, violence, gore, reanimation. You mean science went wrong, again!? Gasp! No! You ever just wanna go apeshit?

A/N: I've been really looking forward to writing this chapter because it was very important to me. This fanfiction has been a lead up to this and the following chapters. I'm sorry it took so long, I was going through it. But I hope you guys enjoy this addition.

"Salvageable..." Viktor spoke in disgust, "you call your own child...Salvageable?" He spat at your father. He had pulled himself up to lean on his worktable, the morning paper clutched to his chest in one hand. He glared at the man who stood before. His stomach turning with the rage of a hurricane.

"I was lucky she died on my property otherwise it would have been far more difficult to pass the fake off to the authorities. The blunt-force trauma she suffered in her fall can be fixed with some simple iron work."

"I don't believe what I am hearing..."

"You are not the only man of scientific genius in Piltover. My team and I are confident that with the help of hextech we could-"

"You and your team of lunatics are mistaken!" Viktor shouted, his fingers clutching the newspaper he pressed to his chest as he supported himself with the other.

"You are speaking to an investor, son! I suggest you watch your tone with me!" He threatened. Viktor shook his head.

"I suggest you leave, immediately." He turned his back only for your father to swiftly approach him. He grabbed his shoulder and wrenched Viktor back to face him.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You have a chance to make things right here." His fingers dug into Viktor's shoulders. "We could perform the ultimate miracle. Don't you see? You could bring her back to life..." Your father's voice became soft and encouraging. Viktor paused. He thought for a moment. Could it be? Did he really have what it took to bring you back from the dead? All his trials, all his failed experiments just to cure himself. Could it really work? His curiosity was getting the better of him. When Viktor didn't answer your father, he just patted him on the shoulder. "Think it over, son. I'll see you at the funeral."

Viktor did not attend the funeral. He found himself trapped amongst his work, trying to understand what your father meant. What he had done to convince himself that hextech could reanimate a dead body. As far as Viktor was concerned, it was impossible. He couldn't even begin to solve the issue of keeping his subjects from rotting. So how could it bring anyone back from the dead?

Jayce went to your funeral in Viktor's place. He mourned you the way a friend should. Standing tall in his suit with a frown and a few well-intentioned tears as "your" casket passed by him. He said a small prayer to the body that laid in your place. He found himself frustrated by the whole thing. He watched as familiar faces young and old cried for their loss. You had drawn an impressive crowd and yet amongst them Viktor was absent. By the end, Jayce received a telegram informing him that Viktor was being held by police for breaching the blockade Jayce had enforced just days prior.

Viktor sat and watched as Police forces held back an angry mob of furious Undercity residents. He coughed into a handkerchief as his mind swirled with intense emotion and fear. Guilt making his body feel heavier than usual.

"Jayce, what is this?"

"Do you have any idea how this looks? I order a blockade and my own partner violates it!?" He hissed at him as he approached.

"You, ordered this? Why?"

"There are people down there hell bent on destroying us. What were you doing down there!?"

"I was consulting someone about..." He paused, "about our quandary. I told you I knew someone."

"Well you didn't say they were from the Undercity!"

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference- They're dangerous!" Viktor's eyes narrowed at Jayce.

"I'M from the Undercity." He reminded him with a cold gaze as he got up, smacking Jayce's hand away as he tried to help him up.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I've just...had a lot on my plate and today...I...well, was your friend able to help?" Viktor considered Jayce's question for a moment.

"No. No he said nature was resistant to this sort of...tampering." Viktor lied as a vile of curated shimmer sat patiently in his pocket.

"We'll keep at it then...You uh...you missed the funeral."

"I know." Viktor nodded.

"You should have been there." Jayce told him softly as they walked back together. Viktor shuffling along side as he shook his head.

"No. No I don't think I should."

"Look, I know how close you were. You can't just ignore this. Who cares what her shitty father thinks, you had every right to be there. To...to mourn that loss." Viktor gritted his teeth as Jayce smoke. He knew Jayce had very little idea what the reality of the situation was, and his previous insult and disregard was beginning to grate on Viktor's nerves.

Behind them the crowd shouted as a flaming bottle was thrown and crashed on the path behind them. They watched for a moment before Viktor spoke.

"I have work to do." Viktor dismissed him through his teeth, trying to keep his composure. Jayce couldn't believe Viktor could be so cold and unfeeling. He watched Viktor leave as more storm clouds began to roll in from above.

What does it feel like to be dead? You might say there is a form of release. Floating in weightless nothing as consciousness slowly erodes. Perhaps that wasn't death. Merely the in-between. The darkness you wade through like when you're close to falling asleep. The voices you heard sometimes sounded familiar. Sometimes a word or two said by voices you recognized but couldn't identify. If this wasn't death, what was it? Where were you?

Sometimes there was music. Yes, music. Violin, piano, flute. A voice singing along with muddled words. Memories, perhaps.

Viktor was escorted in by your father's staff. He had doubled the security, doubled the efforts. Viktor's eyes inspected every inch of the house as he was brought up to the attic. For the first time he saw the home you grew up in. The oddly sterile and formal home your mother made and your father maintained.

Viktor's stomach tossed and turned as he followed your father's hulking and disheveled being into the attic. His breath caught in his throat. He froze at the sight of the room. The intricate machinery, the crudely made controls, the hextech inspired work. Viktor was disgusted. His first inclination was to get away, to run. But the guards behind him kept him there. His frightened golden eyes flashed over the table in the center of the room. His heart sank. Thunder and lightening crackled outside as the yellow lights cascaded down.

"The storm is upon is, sir. We are ready to begin." The mad doctor said, wearing bandages from wounds you gave him a few nights ago. Your father nods and thanks the man as they begin their preparations. The old man turns to Viktor with sad, tired eyes.

"I'm sure as a man of science you're curious to know the procedure when it comes to these things."

"These things?" Viktor asked firmly, fighting back the urge to lay into the old man. He nodded with a somber expression. He pointed towards the table in the center of the room. Draped in a cloth, the shell of yourself lay.

"Unfortunately, she's been a bit more scuffed up than other subjects." He hears your father's voice as the doctor slowly removes the cloth. Revealing your body. Viktor's heart stops for a moment as his eyes adjust to the sight. It's your body, but it's not you. You aren't there. Your head is partially shaven and metal disks have been used to patch up your broken skull. Down your middle is a massive autopsy-like cut that has been carefully sewn back together. "So we had to improvise. We repaired her broken bones with hearty metals that will continue to heal with time. We were lucky her organs were mostly unharmed. It made the removal of some easier."

"Removal?" Viktor asked curiously. Your father nodded.

"We had to remove a kidney which had be pierced by a broken bone as well as her uterus. If we let the embryo fester any longer it would have rotted her from the inside out, and then we would have nothing. Once decomposition sets in, they're lost to us." Viktor tries to process his words. He tries to process everything, but some words stick to him and suck out all his attention and energy. He blinks a few times before looking up at the old cowboy. One word stands out in particular.

"Embryo?" His voice is low and soft, as if he's afraid to say the word at all. Your father's face turns deceptively sympathetic.

"Did she not tell you?" He asks abruptly. Viktor's brows furrow as his eyes narrow at him in confusion.

"She was..."

"Yes, son. I'm afraid so." Your father straightened his posture as he walked past Viktor. He turned his attention to the machinery, checking wiring and tubing and calculations. "But the time to worry about that has passed. We can still save her."

The storm crashes above them. Switches are flipped as the air becomes electric. Viktor can feel little static shocks as he holds his crutch close. Leaning on it as the sudden pressure in the air forces him into a coughing fit. He coughs blood into his handkerchief as the machines around them vibrate to life. The roof is opened and the cold night air floods the room. Viktor looks up to watch your father approach your body. In his hands are the unmistakable hex crystals Viktor and Jayce supplied. The very thing you gave your life to stop.

He watches in frozen horror as the mournful man places the crystals in your empty eye sockets. While the doctor prepares a syringe. The purple liquid sparkles brightly. A deep purple that leans more blue than red. Viktor recognizes it. Shimmer. No doubt something that has been engineered by the great Mr.Y/L/N himself. How is he so confident that this will work? How does he know? What other subjects have there been?

The shimmer is injected into your hollow veins, intermingling with your still blood. It pushes through, forcing blood and shimmer through you as your shell lays there, waiting. The men stand back, their eyes leaving you to look up to the storm above. Your father backs away to stand firmly by a lever. He looks at Viktor.

"You might want to brace yourself, son." His voice demands. Viktor's eyes frantically dart between him and your body, until the flash of lightening from above distracts him.

"All hands stand by!" The doctor shouts formally. As if he's done this a thousand times. "Ready!" All eyes stare up at at clouds above as the wind blows through the room. Viktor rests himself against a control panel as he watches with sick curiousity. Wide, watering eyes observing every movement. He watches as several rods of metal fight against the harsh storm winds. Reaching out for a chance that lightening will strike. As if sent by the gods themselves, lightning stretches across the sky like the veins of an electric beast. They flash and then suddenly a blinding light strikes upon them. Without hesitation your father switches the lever and electricity is funneled through wires and tubes.

Sparks pop wildly into the room as they try to sheild their eyes with goggles and arms. Viktor hunches over to cover his face as the machine's vibrations turn to uneasy rattling. Your body jerks wildly as the energy is funneled into you.

You begin to shake violently. Crashing down to earth as the concept of feeling returns. Your body clattering against the metal table while your consciousness is pulled back. Pain. Nothing put pain. The nothingness gave way to feelings. Physical. Your mouth opens as air is pushed out of your lungs. Announcing your gruesome return by pushing the air out of your lungs. Your eyelids snap open as the hex crystals spark to life as if they were your own eyes. The magic and shimmer and electricity course through you. Your mouth let's out an inhumane shriek.

They duck in pain as they cover their ears to the sound. It rings on for far longer than it should have as the room trembles like there's an earthquake. The rattling of the machines turns to concerning shaking. Sparkes flying when they shouldn't be. Your father shouts something at the doctors, demanding that they stabilize you.

Viktor unshielded his eyes to watch you. There you are. Shrieking in pain as your body is wracked with tremors, a monster of your former glory. He shakes his head. Hot tears streaming down his cheeks as wide eyes burn the imagine into his skull forever. He scrambles back towards the door. He runs. The best he can, he escapes back out into the night and doesn't stop until he's home.

Leaving you to shriek again as the building shakes. The windows shatter at the frequency of your voice as you come crashing back to earth.

[tofuingho]

I understand your anger, but I’m getting a bit tired of misinformation on all sides. The only person who can “get in legal trouble” from selling bound fanfics is the person pocketing the money. Nobody else. Not the author. Definitely not ao3. Whoever even came up with the idea that ao3 might possibly get in any sort of trouble because of people stealing from it?? The fury of the authors is understandable but they aren’t in any danger whatsoever either, unless they’re the ones secretly selling their own fics. “Don't do it” is a fine message and it will still be one without lying about the actual harm.

I'm going to assume you're a younger person and maybe don't know the deep lore about fanfiction.

Fanfiction and parodies fall into a very grey area legally. When you're using someone else's IP (intellectual property), they have the right to tell you to cease and desist.

Examples:

Spaceballs (1987). It's a parody of the Star Wars films. It has achieved cult status, but no official merchandise was made. Why? Because George Lucas said no. Mel Brooks actually asked George Lucas for permission to make the movie and Lucas agreed with the caveat that no merchandise would be sold. Lucas could have refused to allow Brooks to parody Star Wars and the movie would have to be rewritten or scrapped.

Weird Al Yankovic made a parody of Lose Yourself by Eminem called Couch Potato. The song was meant to have a music video, but Eminem denied permission.

Anne. Rice. I can't say for certain if she actually ever sued anyone, but she was well known for asking Fanfiction.net to remove all stories that used her characters.

And that's just a couple of examples. There's also what J.K. Rowling did in '03, what Fox (the tv network) did in '97, what Mercedes Lackey did(does? I think you still have to get explicit permission to write fanfic about her stuff).

At any point, any author could go to a fanfiction website and say "I don't want people to be using my characters. Remove all of the stories from this fandom."

And it would be done.

It has been done before.

It's the reason that Fanfiction.net removed all the NC-17.

When fanbinders steal and sell someone's fanfiction, they bring fanfiction to the attention of IP holders, which is bad.

Also, the fanfiction authors are getting pissed off and pulling their stories from AO3.

We are actively losing our beloved stories.

AO3 may not be in legal trouble, but our community is in trouble.

Selling stolen fanfiction is illegal and if you do it, you're an asshole!

[qqueenofhades]

what would you say are the best parts of fanfiction as a type of a written work? (if, theoretically speaking, someone has been writing&worldbuilding an AU so far from the original thing that with a few minor tweaks they could make it into a pretty much original text - not to publish for money, Ao3 has an original work fandom, it could go there - it's, uh, what would you say are good reasons to keep it a fanfic? what are good reasons to not?)

The main thing about fanfiction is that it relies upon re-contextualizing, reworking, or otherwise drawing directly on the readers' knowledge of a pre-existing work, using that work's characters, plot, and universe. As such, when you're writing fanfiction, you don't need to spend tons of time introducing the personalities, conflicts, settings, etc; that is already built in, your readers are expecting you to pick it up and go, and part of the narrative conceit or overall plot can rest on how it's similar to, diverging from, or totally separate from the canon universe (as in the case of AUs). Because you're writing in response to another text, you're performing a dialogue with something else, and that's why most fanfiction needs some amount of reworking in order to contain its own story without reference to another intellectual property, because you're using pre-built parts instead of making your own.

However, as someone who also tends to write long, plotty AUs with extensive worldbuilding beyond and quite separate from canon (and various original characters), I know that it's fairly easy to just change a few names and plot details and have a basically original work. Which at that point it is! You've done the work to develop your own angle of the story, there is a ton of published stuff out there that is either thinly reworked fanfic or inspired by fanfic or based on another very similar premise, and there's no reason you shouldn't throw your own hat into the ring and see what happens. What you have to do if converting it into original fiction, aside from changing the names, is checking to see if it holds up as its own narrative without reference to another text. That might mean filling out character backstory/motivations, plot points, events, major conflicts, romantic relationships, or anything else that is taken as assumed in a fic and will need to be strengthened in order to make the story work as its own entity. If you're writing an AU where Blorbo A and Blorbo B fall in love in a space opera, you have the readers' implicit knowledge of those characters and their dynamics already, and the fun comes from transposing that to a new setting/universe. You can obviously use that to develop the original characters, but you also have to be aware of where you need to draw something out, or rework something, so that a reader not familiar with the source material (i.e. whatever you based your fic on) can get it.

You can also take the premise of a fic and rewrite/rework it as an original novel. I'm doing that right now with The Key of Solomon, which has one of my favorite plots in my own fics, but rather than just changing the names in the existing work, I'm reworking a lot, setting it in a different world, adding new characters and plotlines, building out more lore and history, etc., and it will not go the way fic-TKOS currently goes, because the core of this story is about something different/involves a different set of thematic conflicts and character arcs. (And yes, I am excited about it.) This is the sort of stuff that I discovered by just poking around with the premise, throwing some outline + worldbuilding notes in a Word doc, and starting to write and see what happened. In other words, there are a lot of ways you can rework or redo your existing work, which published authors do all the time, and if you're wondering how to restructure your story on its own terms and not as a derivative of another story, a comprehensive dismantle and rebuild might be a good idea in any case. Take your AU setting, your renamed characters, your tweaked plot, etc, and start writing it from scratch, as that will give you the best sense of how it holds together and where there are the most useful opportunities to change and expand. Because of how writing works, you will usually then understand more about what you want to do with it and what makes it compellingly different from where it started.

Likewise, if you DO want to make money off it/self-publish it on Amazon or wherever/look for a traditional-publishing agent and deal, that is completely fine. Because the "You Cannot Monetize Fanworks" thing is drilled into us so deeply, it can sometimes be viewed as a bad thing if you, as an artist, want to actually make money off your art and creative labor. It's not a bad thing! So don't feel like you have to disclaim any intention to publish it for money or think that it's only a "good" work if you don't do that. You can indeed put it on AO3 as an original work if all you want is for people to read it and enjoy it, which is the main pleasure from fic; you're an amateur writing in your spare time for other amateurs/fans to enjoy out of the love of sharing the story and characters. But if you do want to make it into something that you intend on selling for real-people money (as hey, I will explore in some fashion when the above project is finished), it doesn't make you A Dirty Capitalist or Less of an Artist or whatever the latest nonsensical Tumblr groupthink wants you to think. So while what you do with it is up to you, you can 100% pursue publication for money if you want to. (After all, aren't we all big fans of Pay Artists/Writers Appropriately For Their Work? Yeah.)

Anyway, what this all boils down to is whether you want to keep it as a fic just because you like it that way, and how much work you feel like doing in transforming it into an original story. I have plenty of fics where I have done enough AU/world-building/extra characters that it would be very easy to change the names and call it a day, but I haven't, because I wrote them as fics and I like them that way. But then, as noted above, I have also started developing an original project out of something that I first wrote as an AU fic, because I liked the idea and wanted to explore it with a different twist/set of characters/universe. So yeah, it's a matter of personal preference and what you then want to do with the finished result (i.e. just post it on AO3 or pursue publication and financial return from it), and either way, it's up to you. If you have a feeling that you want to develop it as an original story in whatever way, hence why you're asking me this question, then I say you should do that. You can always put it aside or try something else if the conversion isn't working, but if it does, hey! More things to explore! So do it and have fun.

[thicctails]

><((((º>‿︵‿︵‿︵Undercurrent‿︵‿︵‿︵<º))))><

A Merformers x Reader Fanfiction

Chapter 1 ° Shoreline

The worn leather of your car's steering wheel was almost uncomfortably warm beneath your touch, the heat of the sun causing beads of sweat to roll down your neck and dampen your shirt. You wiped at your brow, eyes squinting as you tried to see through the bright glare.

You, in your infinite wisdom, had packed your sunglasses up with all of your other belongings instead of keeping them with you for the week-long drive to your new home. In your defense, you'd been so eager to leave after you'd gotten the confirmation call that you'd basically just grabbed everything and chucked into into your old beat up pickup truck.

Sandwind was a tiny, coastal town that was miles and miles away from any other settlement, it's population in the low hundreds and mostly consisting of elderly folk who wanted somewhere warm to live out their golden years. It was an insignificant blip on a map.

Which is to say that it was perfect for you.

People fucking sucked. If they weren't ignoring you, and they often were, they were either being complete douchebags or trying to get into your pants. Usually both. It didn't matter that you had excelled both academically and in the workplace, you were still seen as just an object or tool by almost everyone. If you were seen at all, that was.

Even when you finally managed to break into your field, veterinary care for aquatic creatures, you'd found yourself struggling to find opportunities to move up the ladder. Your colleagues were uninterested in you, and your old boss had been too interested, which had led to you jumping ship and starting again under someone new. It had hurt like hell to do that; to abandon all the hard work you'd done just because some old creep couldn't keep his hands off you, but it had a silver lining.

Marissa Faireborn was a godsend. She saw your potential, saw how hard you worked and the quality of care you provided to the wildlife that were brought to you, and after a few years of being employed by her, she'd given you the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to start your own wildlife care clinic, under the condition that you move immediately, handle your own housing situation, and work with a military research team that were currently set up on an island not too far away from the mainland.

You weren't exactly sure what they were researching, but you'd figured that you could ask when you met up with the head researcher in a few days.

The research team had been stationed at the property previously, and Marissa had used her influence to gain the authority to purchase the building after they'd relocated. You'd been given a grant to fund your work, but you'd had to arrange for everything to be bought and set up yourself.

It had been difficult, especially since your now ex partner had thrown you out of your shared apartment after a particularly nasty argument over your job, which had snowballed into a screaming match when he'd let slip that he'd been sleeping with one of your coworkers, forcing you to temporarily move back in with your family, something as unpleasant as stepping into a snakepit.

Needless to say, once you knew that you were good to go, you'd leapt into your old shitbox truck and hit the gas pedal with the speed of a thousand coked-up cheetahs.

Now, free of all the comments about your looks or your weight or any other thing your parents loved to pick at, you found that a smile had begun to tug at the corners of your mouth. You were out. You were finally out. And you were never going back.

By the time you'd finished unpacking, the sun had lowered from its place in the middle of the sky, now skimming the horizon line as the first shades of pink and orange hues began to appear. The warmth of your skin told you that you had likely gotten a sunburn from hauling boxes back and forth between your truck and the dusty little shack that was your new living space, but that was a small price to pay for the feeling of immense satisfaction and excitement that was currently thrumming through you.

The facility was amazing. The central building consisted of a walk in area at the entrance with a desk and some filling cabinets, a stocked cold storage room for various medications, a regular storage room, a large room in the back with several decently sized aquariums and metal tables, a kitchen/food pantry, washrooms that included showers, and a fenced outdoor area with two large inground pools and one smaller above ground pool.

All of the necessary equipment that you had ordered months ago had been delivered recently, and the mail carrier had even been nice enough to not just dump the packages at the small mailbox located outside the main facility, taking the time to make sure that they were neatly stacked beneath the shelter overhang of the main entrance.

Now, it was up to you to set everything up.

You started with the medicine and various medical supplies that didn't need to be kept cold, dragging box after box into the storage room and organizing the different pill bottles and tools.

You'd purchased a label gun before the move, and were now labelling anything and everything that you could get your grubby little paws on. In the beginning, you'd been completely professional and responsible with your labels, but by the time you'd gotten around to setting up various water pumps, heaters, and monitoring machines hours later, you'd started to act a little bit silly.

There was now a stethoscope named Steve in a drawer, a mug named Bartholomew sat empty next to your much beloved coffee machine, Randy. Sarah the clipboard was held in your hands, helpless to stop you from gluing a pair of googly eyes onto the top of her as you giggled quietly.

Okay, mayyyybe it was time to turn in for the night. This was odd behavior, even for you.

Setting Sarah down on the desk (which sported a little label that said 'Desk') you yawned and cracked your knuckles. You hadn't gotten around to installing a clock yet, so you reached into one of your pant pockets and retrieved your phone. Clicking the power button, you gaped at the time the device displayed.

"It's 2 AM?!" you squeaked, wondering how it had gotten so late without you noticing. You quickly pocketed your phone once more and made a beeline for the door. You were no stranger to staying up late, often times pulling an all-nighter to study or read fanfiction, but you had to actually act like a somewhat put together human being tomorrow, so that wasn't really an option tonight.

You stepped out into the night air, the smell of salt hitting you immediately. The once clear sky had become cloudy, and the very distant rumble of thunder met your ears. A storm was coming, and you had no intention of getting caught out in it.

Skittering across the sand like a seagull honing in on a French Fry in a Walmart parking lot, you quickly dashed towards your shitty little cottage, praying to God that if there were any spiders in here, that you didn't see them until tomorrow. You snagged your phone charger, set an alarm for Stupid o'clock In The Morning, plugged in your phone and crashed onto your shitty, half inflated blowup mattress. Silently agonizing over the back pain you knew would be coming tomorrow, you let your eyes slip shut as sleep claimed you.

[autobot2001]

Horseback Riding

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: E Pairing: Drift X Jamie Description: Vivian's neighbor invites everyone to ride horses. I think I just added to my fanfiction universe.

Day 16; @fluffyfebruary: spontaneous @fluffbruary: neighbour | desire | horse

“…. you’re welcome to come ride my horses,” Drift hears a mech talking to Vivian. How strange. Drift thinks, but Vivian appears to be calm. He doesn’t think he needs to see the mech as a threat to his friends. “That sounds good. Are you aware there are eight people in my house right now? Friends are staying over as they often do.” “Not a problem, ma’am. Let me know when you’re coming.” As Vivian closes the door, the man turns and heads downstairs. “Spontaneous, but it’ll be fun,” Vivian smiles.

Sunstreaker had to be convinced to join the others for horseback riding. The others are interested. Crosshairs and Drift worry that Jamie is just saying she wants to go out of fear of being forced to go. Even with the lack of cues that she doesn’t want to go. While concerned about whether Jamie chooses to go, Drift desires to ride with her without the others.

The neighbor’s home is five miles away. It’s a quick two-minute drive.

The man watches four cars pull into his driveway. The Autobots and Jamie learn Vivian’s neighbor is Lucas Harris. While the Autobots refer to each other holoform using their Cybertron names, they know each other’s chosen Earth names. They have slight concerns about making mistakes. They don’t want Lucas to know who they really are yet. “… there are six trails,” Lucas explains, “the property is fenced in, so you don’t have to worry about staying off the property.” Lucas gives everyone a map of the property and trails. The Autobots and Jamie are worried, seeing Lucas has a business. Concerned, he just bought the property to start his business. Even with the five miles of forest separating the two properties and the unlikelihood that anyone would walk the trails the Autobots made in the woods. “I don’t think this is a security risk,” Vivian assures them, “we have security around the property, though, so we’re prepared.” “We’re not hiding, and I doubt this guy is working for the cons,” Drift argues. The conversation is dropped.

Lucas matches everyone with a horse and teaches how to prepare the horse for riding. Jamie and Vivian watch the Autobots struggle. Hoping Sunstreaker doesn’t get angry. Next is a quick lesson on riding a horse, Lucas thought. With five people to teach the basics of riding a horse, the lesson takes an hour. Everyone is ready to go on the trails near sunset. Drift desires to watch the sunset with Jamie. Seeing there’s a field on the property like on Vivian’s.

Drift pays close attention to the trails, hoping he doesn’t miss the trail he and Jamie have to go down to get to the field. Crosshairs smiles, having a good idea of what Drift is up to. He’s happy Drift has been doing better the past few days. His concern is the longevity of the good mood.

Drift signals Jamie to turn left when they reach the path. As Drift directs his horse to turn left, he’s certain he sees Crosshairs looking back and smiling. Jamie follows Drift to the open field.

There’s a place to tie the horses and keep them from running off. The two make it time to sit on the grass and watch the sunset. “I could do this every day,” Drift smiles, and he hugs Jamie on his lap.

“Where’d they go?” Sideswipe asks. “I don’t know,” Crosshairs tells him, “they have a map. They’ll be back.” Lucas isn’t worried about two missing riders and horses, despite having just met everyone. He shows everyone what they should do when they’re done riding their horse.

Drift and Jamie return to the barn as the last minutes of light pass. The others had already gone home. Lucas is in the barn, feeding the horses. The two lead their horses into the barn. Jamie already told Drift what they have to do. Lucas watches as they tend to the horses and locate the stables. “Looks like it’s dinnertime,” Drift comments as he leads the horse into the stable. The horse makes a sound as if responding, “I wonder if he’s complaining?” With the two horses taken care of, Drift apologizes to Lucas, who tells him he’s not mad. “It’s impossible to steal a horse here,” he jokes, “you’re all welcome to ride the horses again. It would be wise to call first if you wish to ride during business hours. I’d like to ensure everyone rides the same horse when they come.” Drift and Jamie thank Lucas and head toward Drift’s alt mode.

“That was fun,” Drift smiles as he drives home. “Yes,” Jamie smiles.

They make it home for dinner. “Look who finally came home,” Sideswipe teases. “Really?” Sunstreaker scolds, “leave them alone.” The friends talk about going back to Lucas’ home and riding horses. To Vivian, this is another opportunity for the Autobots to learn to trust humans. She’s unsure if they struggle to trust new recruits at the N.E.S.T. base, but they are concerned about Lucas.

“So?” Crosshairs asks later that night when Jamie is asleep. “She had fun. I don’t think she felt forced.” “Why do I feel like there’s a but?” “I worry how long until my good mood is ruined? Jamie has been doing a little better.” Crosshairs doesn’t know what to say while worried about his friends. He hugs Drift. The two think they should talk, but it’s the same conversation every time that doesn’t help them. They are happy with the good day. They go to bed.

[dennissima]

It's like a ballet

Summary:

In 1650 London, in a territory divided by war between the English and the Scots, Aziraphale gets into trouble but finds a way to make Crowley forgive him again and again. Notes:

AVAUNT! If you are Neil Gaiman. Sorry Sir, we wan't risk any danger. For everyone: WELCOME! Fanfiction written by me, illustrated by Nica @the-curious-lady-blog (@nicachan91 on Twitter). We are Italian, English is not our first language. Feel free to send suggestions for improvements. Thank you for taking the time to read this attempt to spread joy.

Words:2,210

On AO3

LONDON 1650 

OLD ST PAUL’S CATHEDRAL - August 31st. 

Aziraphale never misses a chance to wander among the bookbinders' and booksellers' shops in the precincts of Saint Paul's Cathedral, looking for new publications or some rare volumes. He loves wandering through the crowds, and mingling among the people gives him a sense of security. That's why it seems the best place for him to meet Crowley. Just as he is turning a freshly printed volume over in his hands, admiring its fine binding, Crowley approaches him with a wary eye.

‘I’m back.’

‘How did it go? Were you... successful?’

‘Yes, let's say so. I brought some supplies with me. Would you…like?'

Aziraphale gazes at Crowley with a side eye, commenting with his best intrigued expression.

‘Oh Crowley, I'm still not clear if I'm allowed... I mean. The drink that the Supreme Archangel Gabriel serves to the prophets to replenish their energy for preaching...was probably stolen by...you...demons...to deconsecrate it! I shouldn’t...'

Crowley rolls his eyes upwards. 

‘Angel, I came all the way to Venice to get this…’, and pats his hand on his hip, making a dull noise against the packet he was hiding under the fabric of his clothes. He continues, showing his teeth. ‘Don't you think that if it was sacrilege they wouldn't have allowed a coffee shop to open in one of the major capitals of the Mediterranean?’

Aziraphale mumbles unconvinced. Then he smiles and raises an arm to attract the dealer's attention and buy the book he was clutching tightly in his hands, fearing that someone else was interested in buying it. Crowley follows him as he makes his way through the throng of voices. He approaches his shoulder to discreetly continue his speech.

 'I was wondering... if you could... well... keep... for me... on your property, my coffee.’ 

He ends quickly and with a cough. 

Aziraphale turns away.

‘Me? Hold the sinful drink? Why can't you keep it yourself?’ 

Crowley wrinkles his nose and snorts: ‘Mala tempora current.’

Aziraphale sighs. ‘Yes, it's a bad time for everyone, with the civil war, the court in check... and that Cromwell…’. He shoots Crowley a sidelong glance ‘Wait, aren't you the one behind all this?’

Crowley looks at him indignantly ‘Of course not! Mala tempora current, is the last dispatch I received from Hell. You know how they are over there. They liked when human use to speak Latin, they find it easy, not like Babylonian. They adopted it as a kind of official language... if you want to make a communication to Hell and get attention you have to use Latin. Send dispatches? Latin. Summon a demon? Latin. Exorcise a demon? Latin. I try to tell them that things change quickly here but they don't want to know….' 

Aziraphale was leading him out of the crowd. 'All right, my dear, but why do I have to hold your coffee?’

‘Mala tempora current, I said, is the dispatch requesting my presence in Scotland, I must return immediately to Dunbar…'

‘Ah, some mortally evil temptation…'

‘Nah! Humans, as usual, do everything themselves. I just have to attend and make believe downstairs that I've damned a few battling souls. But I'm not going to risk my precious loot. I've done the impossible to get it’. Crowley mutters something, shaking his head.

Aziraphale looks surprised and vaguely disappointed. 'Oh. Oh. So you're leaving London again. All right, all right. I was hoping you could be my godfather, but I'll ask Mr Perroy, my estate neighbour... You know I bought some land just outside London, right?’ 

‘Yes, of course I know it and... wait! Godfather? For what? - Crowley returned to attention, seeking Aziraphale's gaze. - Not for what I think! Angel! Don't tell me you challenged someone to a duel!’

His tone had become abrupt, almost aggressive. 

Aziraphale's face lights up and he replies all happy. ‘No no! ...It was he who challenged me! Isn't it exciting?’. He would have clapped his hands if he hadn’t occupied them with the books he had bought.

Crowley grunts, bringing a hand to his forehead. ‘You don't realise, Angel.’

‘But Crowley, why? This is so exciting! Like the old days, a matter of honour…’. Aziraphale gloats. Crowley becomes exasperatedly irritated. 

‘You do not understand! You risk being discorporated. Duels nowadays can be deadly! There is no more chivalry and they are not regulated by law. Who challenged you? Why? What are you accused of?’

Aziraphale is embarrassed and starts telling the story from the beginning, babbling, talking about angels, demons, miracles, temptations. ‘Oh, damn, keep it short!’

Aziraphale tells all in one breath, doe-eyed: ‘As it happens, I performed a few miracles here and there, at court and in Parliament, to convince a few people not to fight and they deserted. Let's just say that the two factions didn't take it very well and since they managed to trace me as a common acquaintance, Lord Romford accused me of espionage and of being a double agent. He demanded satisfaction…'

Crowley grunts, trying to contain his anger.

‘I. Had. Told. You. To stay out of it! I know this sort of thing. When humans are intent on making war on each other there is no miracle that saves them or temptation that makes things worse.’

He snorts, trying to regain control of his tone of voice. 

‘I'm trying to find out about this Romford. You do what you can to avoid the duel and…'

‘I have already accepted!’, Aziraphale interrupts him. Crowley grunts.

‘Well, you don't need me, you can easily defend your honor, just a little miracle and you'll be safe…’, he said trying to calm himself, first.

‘Oh, not at all! I don't want to cheat! It would not be honorable at all!’

The demon roars unnerved.

‘Come on, Crowley, it's like a ballet! Only with a rapier in hand. And it just so happens that I have right under my arm the latest and greatest fencing manuals from which I will undoubtedly learn all the secrets necessary to... Crowley?’. Out of it, the demon pulls out the packet containing the coffee, pushes it against Aziraphale's chest. 'I’d better go to Edinburgh.’

‘Crowley? Crowley! I'm talking to you, get back here!’, try to insist Aziraphale.

‘Take care…’, and with a fluttering gesture of his hand Crowley points to nothing specific and turns his back on him, leaving Aziraphale in doubt as to whether he was talking about the coffee or him.

DUNBAR - September 2nd - two days later. 

Crowley wanders around the camp of the army led by Cromwell, not even bothering to pretend to be a footman or a groom. He is waiting for a demonic messenger and wants to be found concentrating on inspecting the troops, even though his thoughts are elsewhere. The moon is high in the sky when Mammon emerges from the bowels of the earth and awaits him among the roots of an ancient tree. ‘Ave Crowley!’, he calls to him as he approaches, repeating ‘Hello! Hello! Hello!’

Crowley does not wait for the messenger to take the initiative and buries him with unsolicited information. 

‘Hello Mammon, it's business as usual here, the troops are ready, tomorrow the battle will rage, and if you're already wondering, I've already inspected the ranks of the Scottish royalists as well... tomorrow there will be more bloodshed than you've seen in a long time! - He sniggers, trying to disguise how much he cared more about what he was about to ask than what he was telling. ‘Instead in London, I am interested in the soul of a certain Lord….'

Mammon seemed satisfied with Crowley's account and, as ambassador of England, easily loosened his tongue. ‘Do ut des, Crowley. Your news pleases the Underworld, tomorrow we will hoard souls. But the Lord you're interested in is already damned. Romford is an arrogant blowhard, travelled the world in search of fortune and learned the art of sword fighting in Italy, before returning to England and serving in Parliament. A well-built man with a well-trained physique...a fine piece of craftsmanship damning his soul coin after coin, wouldn't you say?’

Crowley was no longer listening. Aziraphale would not stand a chance. 

He feigns disappointment at having been preceded in order to quickly dismiss the host and once alone, exasperated, quickly takes his leave of the demonic envoy. 

He wanders off as if to take up position with the armies and stir up the fighting, in case anyone is watching. Instead, he scurries off at a brisk pace back to London.

LONDON - September 3rd - one hour before sunrise

In the mist of a wasteland just outside London, a short distance from the banks of the Thames, the silhouettes of three men, with elegant bearing, faintly emerge. Two of them with a stiff, martial posture. The third, the less physically fit one, looks around hesitantly. 

‘Well, it looks like my godfather is not coming, he must have had an impediment’

Aziraphale had not even asked Mr Perroy to be his godfather, in the vain hope that the absence of a witness might lead to the duel being cancelled. He tries his strategy but the pleading look only works with Crowley, apparently.

‘I think it is necessary to postpone, Lord Romford.’

The nobleman appears annoyed and further offended. ‘Lord Fell, this disrespect is intolerable. I consider it further proof of your cowardice and culpability. Only a spy does not even have a comrade to rely on and turn to as a witness during a duel of honour. You will meet the fate that befalls spies here and now!’

Aziraphale was about to retort something when a voice came from the fog, and slowly from the silhouettes of the trees came the slender, dark figure of a man advancing towards them.

‘Sorry, sorry, this fog makes orientation impossible.’

‘Crowley???’. Aziraphale looks displeased. Through clenched teeth he turns to his friend: ‘I was on the verge of cancelling the duel, to the detriment of my honour certainly, because of... your... absence!’

The demon looked at him bewildered, wondering there and then if he had not done better not to turn up at all, but quickly realising that, even without a witness, Aziraphale would meet his fate. And he did not even realise the danger he was facing.

Lord Romford, unscrupulous, presses to fight. His godfather thrusts a rapier into Aziraphale's hand and begins to explain the rules of the fight. Aziraphale obviously does not listen but looks at his friend, still in disbelief at his unexpected appearance, now beginning to be terrified by what awaited him.

The tension slices through. The breaking of dawn causes the fog to slowly descend on the grass. 

The indomitable lord strides forward aggressively, Aziraphale stumbles, fumbles with the hilt, trying to remember what he learned in the manuals.

Exasperated Crowley makes a gesture with his hand, from the bottom upwards, invoking a small demonic miracle of succour. The bloody lord's blade becomes heavy and unmanageable. Aziraphale's blade flashes with a distracting light and becomes razor-sharp. It is Romford who spills the first blood and walks away wounded, not badly but enough to consider himself defeated and unable to continue. The angel's honour is saved. 

Romford is furious. He gathers his things and vanishes with the first light of dawn, like a nightmare, followed closely by his best man. 

Furious Crowley precedes Aziraphale on the road to his abode to retrieve his coffee packet. Aziraphale seems on the verge of bursting into tears, such was the tension he had to relieve. He continues to apologise but Crowley wants his coffee back so he never has to see him again. - I don't want anything more to do with you, Angel! We're done. The battle rages in Dunbar and I'm here sharpening the wrong swords! I told you to stay out of it, that it's not a game. But you, stubborn angel...

Aziraphale's languid stare is not enough this time to end the quarrel. He is more frightened now at the thought of Crowley leaving angry with him than when he was about to face the colonel's blade shortly before. He invokes the demon's forgiveness, to no avail. He must resource himself and find an expedient to dampen his anger. They walk along a dirt road and Aziraphale starts prancing around Crowley humming "You're right, you're right, I'm wrong, you're right!". He concludes with a bow, which bars Crowley's way forcing him to stop and laugh.

‘What was that?’

‘A dance, I believe.’

‘You don’t dance.’

‘I do it if necessary. It worked?’

Aziraphale steps to Crowley's side, trying to catch his facial expression in the hope of catching a hint of a smile.

‘All right, Angel. Apology accepted. But now let's go for coffee, and you… you'll drink it with me. That stuff has to work, I need the strength of forty prophets to recover and return to battle.’

From that moment on, Crowley was crazy for coffee. And for the angel's apology dances.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, did not really appreciate the strong taste of the drink stolen from the Supreme Archangel, perhaps it reminded him that he was at fault with a demon. But he said he simply preferred a good English tea.

[cajunandfire]

Drabble requests: number 10 for Diana/47 perhaps?

"Let's take a bath together" from this fic drabble ask challenge.

Happy birthday @peridotglimmer! I'm such a fan of your wonderful Hitman fanfiction. I hope you've had a lovely day of celebrating! 🥳

-

His gloved hands work the dirt, ensuring the soil is equally spread around the new raised garden bed. The late spring sun warms his skin while he works diligently, expanding the garden of his safehouse. He kneels back, sitting on his heels, proud of the work he's done. Three of the four new garden beds were complete. All he had left to do was to fill the last with organic matter, yard waste and fresh soil.

He loved to garden, and had been pleased with the original garden beds Diana had included in his home. Yet it wasn't until their last trip together, that he made plans to expand the garden. Over a light lunch of insalata caprese and taralli in Naples, Diana had been smitten with the fresh mozzarella but said the tomatoes weren't as flavourful as the ones 47 had grown that summer.

That was the moment that inspired it all. He knew that next spring he would expand the garden, so he could grow more food to cook for her. It was one of the simpler ways in which he could show his love and affection for her.

He stands now, brushing the dirt from his soft vintage jeans and plaid shirt. Before he can even get to work on the last raised bed, a chime emits over the speakers in his home, and his phone in his breast pocket vibrates. It's his warning system, notifying him that someone was on this property.

He immediately drops everything and heads towards the other side of the house, staying close to the wall to remain out of view. He pulls his phone to tap into his state-of-the-art surveillance system, which had cameras and pressure plates all around his 40 acres of land. He pinches at his phone screen, zooming into the images captured. It's Diana's car, he recognizes her dark blue Lexus. He zooms in to the windows to confirm that she alone is driving the car. Satisfied with his findings, he slides his phone back into his breast pocket. She would be here in a few minutes, there was no use in hiding the surprise now.

He patiently waits for her at the garage, when she pulls up into his driveway.

"Good afternoon, 47." She playfully greets, sliding out of the car.

"Diana," he greets in return. "You're back early."

"I wrapped up business in London ahead of schedule. I figured there was no need in staying the extra night." She smiles, as she motions to hand him her carry-on bag, before pulling back at the sight of his dirty gloves and clothes. "What have you been up to, 47?"

"It's not finished," he says, but he motions with his head for her to follow. He leads her around the corner of the house. They stop just short of the new raised garden beds.

"More garden space? That's a lovely idea. I'm happy to see you turning the safehouse into a home."

It's not just that, as he reminds her of their time in Naples and the comment she made. He'll have more of the freshest produce, from tomatoes to zucchini, and cucumbers to fresh herbs. All for them to enjoy together.

"This is so lovely, thank you 47."

He responds with a soft smile.

"With this talk of food, why don't we pop in for lunch? I'm sure you've worked up an appetite."

"I should finish this last garden bed, but you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen," he was always one to finish a job, no matter what it was. He reaches down, grabbing his shovel to get back to work.

"Of course," she says, as a playful little smirk starts to tease at the corners of her mouth. She takes a step closer to him as she starts, "it's a shame you're covered in all this dirt, otherwise I would have given you a proper thank you."

The comment causes him to turn his head towards her.

"I think a bath might be in order, for the two of us."

"Bath?" He repeats, his ears perking up at the word.

She nods with a little hum, before turning towards the house. She doesn't have to tell him twice, because he immediately drops his shovel and gloves, following hot on her footsteps.

The garden would have to wait.

[iolaussharpe-24]

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - Chapter Two

Shoutouts to @reallyrallyauthor, @redeyerhaenyra, & @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction who are all my biggest inspirations for this story. (Grace Smith is my OC inspired by Samara Weaving. I have no experience writing 'xreader' fanfics and I have no talent for writing in the 2nd person POV.)

(I'm gonna leave this one marked as 'For Everyone' because there's nothing too explicit. Little bit of gore, but it's hand waved away. Brief mention of a sex dungeon, but no one uses it.)

Story part under the cut. Cross posted on my Wattpad page.

She knew too much about him. There was no leaving. There was only dismissal. And that would likely mean a hail of gunfire that would cut her life short in the living room before his massive bodyguards took her away to some place where she’d never be found again.

All because she caught his eye.

~ One Month Later ~

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.

It really wasn’t.

Tony Thompson wasn’t really anyone to Grace. He was just another rich asshole that did business with Mr. Vogelweide. Not even big business at that. Just gambling. As far as she cared to know at least.

He was a young man. Younger than her. It showed. He was a naïve idiot. Exactly the kind of person Mr. Vogelweide liked to work with. Someone easy to manage. Tony was the kind of guy who could be told that the sky was green and believe it without a second thought until someone else told him to go outside and look up.

Thank God he was good in bed.

Grace had started seeing Tony about two weeks after her nerve-wracking “talk” in the office. Tony had been over to the mansion to pay off a debt he owed after some high school game and Grace had been working that same day. She’d been the one to open the door for him and the one to lead him to the office.

They’d talked during the walk and found that they had a lot in common. And, once his meeting was done, they’d talked a little more and Grace had been given Tony’s number. After that they’d gone out a time or two. And they’d gotten physical with one another.

Grace couldn’t say she loved Tony – not so early in their little relationship – but she liked him. He was friendly enough. Though, it was incredibly hard to believe that someone like him could have business with someone like Mr. Vogelweide. Mostly because Tony was.… what’s the word?.... spineless. He was spineless. Like a jellyfish with no stinger. A small one that can fit in the palm of your hand.

He was the best kind of pathetic. He’d never hurt anyone. Not in a million years. He oozed affection and took every single micro chance he got to show it. He was like a clingy little kid always hanging on her leg because he didn’t want to be alone. She liked it. She liked him. A lot.

For a while, her life was good. Surprisingly good. Well paying job working for an obscenely rich gangster, a friendly and non-threatening “boyfriend” that knew how to show a girl a good time, and a free dorm room in a smaller building on the same property as the house. She didn’t have to worry about travel expenses or rent. She didn’t need to worry about a lot of things. Despite everything, Mr. Vogelweide took care of the people under him. He made sure everyone was comfortable. He kept everyone safe from external threats. (Though, protection from internal threats like Mr. Vogelweide himself was off the table.)

Of course, all good things must eventually come to an end.

The day started off normally. She went to work in the mansion, cleaning up fresh blood from the back patio where some poor schmuck tried to run and failed to get away. She found a chunk of bloody meat while she was scrubbing. It was the size of a coin. Maybe an earlobe? She couldn’t know. Instead, she wrapped it up in a handkerchief and gave it to someone else to take care of.

Afterwards, she dusted the bookshelves in the library. Snuck a few peeks at a couple of books while she was at it. Old literature that was written in German and smelled sour. She couldn’t understand a word of it besides ‘ja’ and ‘nein’ but, judging by the pictures, it looked like a sex ed book from way back when. Then she found a fake book. The cover opened to reveal that it was hollow and… contained a dildo. A very strange one at that. Shaped like an octopus tentacle. Had to be new.

From there, she went to the bedroom and changed the sheets. The white ones came off and the gold ones were laid down. Tomorrow, it would be the navy sheets, she reminded herself as she unfolded the burgundy comforter that went with the gold sheets. She took her time setting it on the massive bed. This should be a two-person job, but since she was the only one doing it, she needed to make she that everything was straight and that there were no ruffles or lumps. If the other maids were to be believed, there was one girl who apparently lost a finger for making the bed wrong back when Mr. Vogelweide was younger. Grace didn’t want to find out. She’d just gotten her nails done and she’d prefer to keep all ten of them.

She ate lunch outside in one of the smaller gardens. Óscar passed by, going to the shed to get his cleaning supplies. When she waved, he looked down his nose at her in disgust and kept walking. Clearly still upset by how he’d been treated lately. It wasn’t really her fault, but there wasn’t much she could do about it aside from what she was already doing. Which was to pretend that none of it had actually happened.

The sex dungeon was next. Good god it was a mess. Every time she had to come in here, Grace wore latex gloves on top of latex gloves, a face mask, a pair of goggles, and a shower cap because she never knew what to expect from this room. Especially after the incident. After that day, she could come into this room wearing a full hazmat suit and it still wouldn’t feel like overkill. It always took her forever to completely sanitize everything. And then she did it again just for good measure.

Mr. Vogelweide had a meeting with Tony and a few other associates that day. Grace heard the gunfire while she was dusting outside.

She went in to clean up the blood once everyone was gone and the body had been taken away. But, she quickly realized that she wasn’t alone when a pair of hands grabbed her around the waist as she bent over to start cleaning. She jumped up and turned to see Tony behind her.

“Go away, I’m working,” she told him with a smile.

He grinned and kissed her cheek. “Come on, how could I come all the way here and not say hi? I missed you, Gracie. Didn’t you miss me?”

“You’re crazy. But yes. I missed you. A little bit,” she teased. “Now go away. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“Okay, okay. Today’s… Friday, right? You get off a little early?”

“Yeah. Donut day. Get up early, get out early. Off day tomorrow. Why?”

Tony grinned wider and wrapped his arms around Grace’s slender waist. “I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. And then, I’m not bringing you back until Monday morning. Just in time for the laundry. That sound like a plan?”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “That sounds perfect. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Yeah. Tonight. It’s a date.”

“Shoo.”

He laughed, kissed her cheek, and left the office so she could get back to work.

She knelt down again to clean, only to be startled by the sound of feet quickly stomping back into the room. Looking up again, Grace caught sight of Tony just as he slapped her ass and then took off running again.

“Hey!” she shouted, getting up to chase him. “Come back here you perv-” She froze in the doorway and lowered her head. “Hello, Mr. Vogelweide.”

“Having fun?” he asked, raising a thick eyebrow over the frame of his glasses.

“I… I’m sorry; it won’t happen again.” She turned on her heel and went back into the office. This time, she actually got back to work and started scrubbing the blood out of the rug.

“You seem quite close with Mr. Thompson. Is this a recent development?” Mr. Vogelweide asked, his tone light and unbothered.

Grace nodded. “Yes sir. We uh… well…. He’s nice to me.”

“Did this happen before or after our talk last month?”

She swallowed, unsure where he was going with this. “It was after, sir.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just stared at Grace through those gold lenses while she went back to cleaning. Part of her regretted telling him that. She shouldn’t have done it. For all she knew, she could have accidentally put Tony’s life at risk. But… shit, if she hadn’t there was always that strange chance that he’d know anyway. He always seemed to know everything. And if he knew and she tried to lie about it that would piss him off. And when Mr. Vogelweide was pissed off, the guns come out and heads get blown off, and then bodies get taken away to be disposed of, and-

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Mr. Vogelweide staring down at her. For fuck’s sake, that leg brace announced his every step, how was he constantly managing to sneak up on her like this? He idly trailed his fingers over the top of her head, curled her baby hairs around them, and said, “So long as you are happy, I suppose. That is the important part. You’re such a lovely woman.”

“…. Sir?”

He removed his hand from her head. “Go enjoy yourself. I’ll have Ms. Baxter finish in here. And… tell Mr. Thompson that I will cover your expenses for the night.”

She sat up on her knees and stared up at him, surprised and , quite frankly, shocked. She heard his breath hitch as he stared down at her. Which, granted, she probably should have expected from a man as hypersexual as him. He caressed her cheek for a moment, just like he had a month ago, and smiled. Not for the first time, she wondered why he did it. Was it because he wanted to make her feel comfortable around him? Was it just a sensory thing? Or… was he inspecting her? Honestly, it felt like the latter.

“Thank you, Mr. Vogelweide. You’re too kind.”

“No. I’m not. Run along now.”

Grace stood up and slowly walked away, only taking a brief moment to look back at him over her shoulder for a quick goodbye before she left the room entirely.

~ Dinner ~

Grace stood outside the restaurant, wearing a skintight black dress, with her hair pulled up in a French twist. Tony had told her to be there and ready at six for their reservation. She’d arrived early, wanting to meet him outside, but he hadn’t shown up yet.

When her phone beeped at six, she went inside without him and used his name to be seated. She was handed a menu, a glass of ice water, and a basket of hot bread was placed in front of her. She thanked the waiter and decided to wait for Tony before she started eating anything. Instead, she alternated between reading the menu and watching the door for him.

Half the things on the menu didn’t even sound like real things. And most of the descriptions sounded… disgusting. The pictures didn’t look much better. Thankfully, there were a few things that seemed normal and edible. The pastas looked good. Maybe a nice alfredo.

…. He’s twenty minutes late. He’s never been this late before. Did something come up?

She checked her phone for any sign that he’d reached out to her. No text. No missed call. Nothing on any of his socials. His last post was a week-old beach selfie of him in a speedo. Oh, and there was Grace in the background. Sitting in the sand. Wearing a bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

She zoomed in on the background, staring at her own tits for a second. Right along the edge of the cup was a circular mark on her skin. Darker than the rest of her porcelain skin. Not a bruise, she could tell that much. But she didn’t know… oh.

“Oh, shit. That’s a nipple. Jesus, that has to be why so many creepy people were looking at me that day.”

She put her phone down and looked up towards the door again. Still nothing. He wasn’t there yet. Somehow. He was usually early. Usually already waiting at the door ten minutes beforehand just so he could see whatever she was wearing before she made it in. He said that she looked good in low light. It gave the illusion that he skin glowed, according to him.

It wasn’t normal for him to be late. It wasn’t normal for him not to say anything. He’d cancelled on her before. Why should this be any different? That is, if he really needed to cancel… he wouldn’t stand her up, would he? No. He was too sweet for that. And he sounded so excited in the office when he asked her out. Made it sound like he had plans for them. And the stars had finally aligned so that both of her off days landed on Saturday and Sunday. She was the lucky one with the blessed schedule. Why wouldn’t he be here?

Did she do something wrong? Did Tony think he did something wrong? Could it be traffic? What does traffic look like where he lives? …. Where does he live? She’d never asked. He’d never shown her. When they spent the night together it always involved an overnight bag and a nice bed and breakfast he picked. Hell, her bag was packed. It was sitting in the trunk of her car. Not that it was her car; per se, it was one of the rentals that Mr. Vogelweide kept on hand for his staff. It wasn’t even a nice one. She deliberately took the car that got used the least just so no one would miss the vehicle.

God, she felt scatterbrained!

“Grace!”

Startled, she looked up to see the last person she was expecting to bump into outside of work. Mr. Anselm Vogelweide himself. She’d never seen him leave the mansion, what were the odds that he’d show up here and now?!

She quickly rose to her feet as he limped over to the table, a smile on his bearded face. Hoping to make it easier for him, she walked towards him as well, meeting him in the middle. She kept a bright smile on her face. The same one she tended to wear while working. It was… something. Fake. Wide. Joyless. She felt like a Barbie doll. Blonde and plastic with a perfect white grin molded onto her face. She asked, “What brings you here, sir? I… had no idea you’d enjoy places like this.”

“I do not leave my home often, it’s true. However, this fine establishment has treated me well for many years. More, I believe, than you have been alive.” He looked around for a moment. One person at a table for two. Two menus. One drink. An untouched basket of bread. “I thought you were supposed to be out with Mr. Thompson?”

“I am- well, I will be. He’s running a bit late. But I’m sure that he’ll be here soon. He’s never let me down before.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she spoke. To hide her fear, she kept her smile plastered on her face. She’d done this before. It was something she was good at. Hiding her emotions. Pretending to be something she really wasn’t. It kept her alive. And, before that, it got her ahead in life where she would have fallen behind.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”