#nothing like mortal danger to force you to make up though

[spirk-trek]

okay but why are jim and spock on the verge of divorce at the start of of spectre of the gun?????

jim whipping his head around when spock says 'fascinating' because he doesn't even LOOK AT HIM

jim addressing spock as 'science officer' ???

spock standing on the wrong side of his chair ????

spock: "unLIKE mr. scott's transporter, this device is nOT functioning. OBVIOUSLY, captain, none of our devices will work"

+ "the violence of YOUR heritage will be the manner of our execution"

literally bickering over who knows more about earth's wild west???

whatever it is melts away the second scotty and bones start tearing into spock and jim stops them but like… please kiss and make up faster next time or i'll cry, thanks

[idontknowwhatimdoinglol]

Hi, do you accept headcanons requests? If you do, can I request a yandere apollo BoZ headcanons? You are one of the few writers I found who wrote yandere BoZ😭. But you can ignore this if you don't want to!

I'm glad to help anon <3

Yandere apollo x reader (headcanons) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

you won't have any chance at freedom if you manage to catch his eye, after losing three lovers in the past he's not about to lose his precious darling once more.

he will kidnap you to Olympus no matter what you or the other gods say, it's too dangerous for you to be alone in the mortal realm and he cant be with you at all times because of his duties as a god so this is obviously the only option.

he will be so comforting after he has you on Olympus, giving to cuddles and kisses, giving you only the most elegant of clothes all matching his of course and even introducing you to his siblings.

Don't mistake his kindness for being soft, if you fight enough you may get a glimpse of his anger and that is not something you want to see.

if you manage to escape him and any siblings of his that may be platonic yandere's for you as well, you won't make it too far because he will track you down through any kingdom or place you hide in and when he gets you back he may not be as kind as he was before.

he will drag you back to Olympus and punish you there, he would never hit you or say anything degrading he loves you too much to do that, he will guilt you though, talking endlessly about how you hurt him and caused such a commotion on Olympus all for nothing.

if you refuse and put up a fight while he tries to bring you back to Olympus you may find yourself in a more dangerous situation as he won't tolerate your disobedience, so you may end up with a few burns from his powers.

after any punishments you receive from him, he will comfort you, feeding you grapes or your favourite food, and making sure you get some rest. healing you of any burns or injury that you had both from running away and from him.

he will want you to be close to his sister and his brothers, mostly Hermes and Dionysus but wouldn't mind too much if you made friends with Hephaestus or Heron. however, if you are caught even talking to Ares then a fight may break out between the two men and he will leave your side again to make sure that Ares cant even go near you.

Zeus will be the last person he lets you meet, he thinks that youre beautiful and he fears that his father may begin to notice to and put you in Hera's line of sight just like his mother once was.

overall he isn't the worst yandere to have, just don't disobey him or play on his jealousy because it wont end well.

and he will make you immortal, that is one thing that you will not fight him on because he will use force if he has to, he won't lose you.

- - - - - . o 0 O 0 o . - - - - -

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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chapter six

“the more that you give away the more that you have.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: diet codependency (doesn’t quench the thirst), mentions: blood play; biting, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 3.2k

author’s note: don’t get too excited over the tags lol but we’re kicking things into gear cherished ones. i’m unsure how many chapters are left but i’d like to aim for ten (total; i’m low-key flying by the seat of my pants) but fire is starting to catch as we close in on our journey. thank you for sticking with me on this, i hope it’s been as fun for you as it has been for me and that my gratitude is properly conveyed in this chapter ❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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Watching Alastor leave the hotel without you felt… strange. When he passed through the door you half expected to feel that invisible tugging at your neck, beckoning you to follow, but it never came. Leaving you unsure how to deal with the level of disappointment you felt at its absence. All you hoped was that he couldn’t see it in your eyes when he turned to give you a final smile before walking down the entrance stairs.

It had turned out to be quite the morning, just not in the way you had expected. Alastor told you about how your afternoons were to be spent over his breakfast, not the least bit apologetic for springing it on you at the last minute in spite of knowing since yesterday. A couple things clicked into place with this knowledge, like your conversation at the cafe. Just as you had suspected, what you had ended up talking about had nothing to do with the important things he had sat you down for.

That’s what he meant when he said he had a busy morning, you thought as you watched him pick at his food, looking less and less like the wraith you had seen the night before. You had used the phrase duality of man as a joke in your mortal life, but Alastor set quite a bar for it. Despite the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you really had managed to learn a lot about him. A goal of yours that seemed to be… shifting.

What had been born from a place of survival was now skirting the lines of fascination. A discomfort settled in you as you realized this, knowing that you were drifting into dangerous territory. Developing a fascination — you couldn’t admit to another word yet — with Alastor wasn’t smart for a lot of reasons. He owned you, for starters. Not that you’d have ever been on even ground with someone of his status, but knowing you were literally at his beck and call… It was hard grappling with that. 

Your grandmother had been such a terror, the expectations she had of you impossible to obtain. Whether she blamed you for your mother’s death or if she would have treated you the way she did regardless was something you’d never know. But you thought you were done being pushed around and forced into boxes you didn’t fit when you went through with your plan to murder her. Turned a new leaf, as they say. 

Yet here you were, with not even a little bit of resentment towards your keeper. He annoyed you with his antics, sure, but you found yourself to be more fond of him than you had expected to be. Hell, you even took extra care making his bed every day despite knowing he didn’t sleep in it — it would’ve done no good to have him catching on that you knew he was just messing up the sheets. You were surprisingly reluctant to put his bed back in order this morning, wanting to preserve its state for as long as you could, burning the image of it to your memory. Even though they were still relatively neat, the slept-in sheets were a peek behind the curtain; another facet of him for you to collect.

The seemingly ever-present lump in your throat creeped up again, sending a tingling jolt through your body at this thought. Fondness, fascination. It had been a very long time since you had attached words like these to someone, and even then it wasn’t something you felt very often applied to anything past friendship. What little friends you had, anyway, preferring a small circle over a plethora.

You had experienced some romance in your life, but nothing longstanding. Flings might be a better word, comprised mostly of the usual dinner and a movie followed by some backseat fumbling. Living with your grandmother didn’t exactly present the option of bringing someone back to your room. And it was fun while it lasted but the payoff had never felt worth it in the end. You were more grateful for the distraction it provided from home than anything else. A lot of the time it just felt like another personality to juggle that you simply hadn’t the energy for.

But was this really something you were beginning to feel towards the Radio Demon? Or were you merely clinging to the twisted sense of stability he represented? Wanting to struggle against him to maintain as much autonomy as you could, or surrender? 

The memory of how Alastor had held your face in his hand surfaced then. How his eyes had been heavy with a desire you couldn’t pinpoint, the way your skin burned under the pad of his thumb. How, somewhere under the fear and exhaustion, you had been thrilled watching him taste the blood off your face. Your chest was tight again, breath shallow as your fingertips ghosted over that spot on your cheek.

Fuck.

You wanted to rip your hair out, the desire to run after him growing stronger with every step you saw him taking towards the city battling against your own self-worth. You wouldn’t go after him of course, not only because it would be pathetic but you knew he would be disappointed and quite possibly repulsed if you did. Neither were things you wished to be associated with in his opinion of you or yourself. Though in this moment, all you could feel in regard to yourself was disgrace. 

If someone had told you any of this a week ago, you would’ve balked at the idea. Actually wanting to please and follow Alastor around like a well-trained dog? Until quite recently you had looked forward to any time you could finally spend alone, but here you were, apparently counting the seconds until he returned home. 

Get a fucking grip, you scolded yourself, inhaling deeply through your nose as you forced yourself to make your way back upstairs to change clothes.

Group activities would be starting in an hour, and it wouldn’t do any good to be fretting over whatever Alastor was up to. Above your pay grade, remember? Remembering what a snide bitch he could be soothed you, the irritation you felt towards his words from earlier reassuring. Though your meaning couldn’t be more different from his, you wanted to believe that you weren’t totally hopeless. The erratic heartbeat under your ribcage begged to differ.

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Alastor never imagined that he’d be sick of heading to Cannibal Town, but there was a first time for everything. It was a novelty he might have actually appreciated under different circumstances. Valentino aside, his days were beginning to feel a bit too repetitive for his liking. Perhaps this meeting could end up being a blessing in disguise, a way for him to defuse some of the restlessness he was feeling.

He had to admit, your absence was… noticeable. Not that you could ever take its place, but having the option to take your arm had been a nice substitute for his microphone when his hand was feeling empty. As if to taunt him, his fist clenched with a nervous twitch, reminding him there was nothing to do with it other than keep it behind his back. Irksome.

The way you lingered around him before his departure hadn’t gone unnoticed, either, something he was unsure you wanted him to know or not. Though there was nothing you could really hide from him, not anymore. Alastor was now very in tune with the way your scent changed based on how you were feeling. It had been particularly strong and floral today, to the point where it still burned his nostrils with a pleasant ache. A keepsake, of sorts. How generous.

Even without that, it was obvious you had wanted to join him on this excursion. There was a sincerity in your ever-pouty face that was actually quite endearing. Still not a fan of frowns, Alastor was beginning to understand that it was your mask, intentional or otherwise, just as the smile was his. His original goal to strip it from you would probably never come to fruition with this revelation and he sighed, though not from disappointment. It was nice to be kept on one’s toes, after all, and he had already made the decision to find new ways to provoke you.

That’s not to say that he didn’t still wish to see what was hiding underneath that gray cloud you took shelter under. The few breakthroughs he’d glimpsed so far had been delightful. Getting you to murder someone wouldn’t work… though that wasn’t off the table. He’d just prefer you to want it; force wasn’t a measure he was willing to take in that regard, there was no satisfaction to be found in it that way. And so by extension, was getting you to indulge in a new eating habit. He hadn’t given up on that, either; he wasn’t lying when he said he thought you’d enjoy it under the right circumstance. 

Something came to mind and passed as quickly as it appeared, shocking him despite coming from some recess of his own imagination. The taste of blood was on his tongue from where he bit the inside of his own lip, and he relished the coppery tang, delight coating him thick as honey as he tentatively explored the thought. His ears twitched low as his horns grew just the smallest bit and he cleared his throat to calm down. Alastor wasn’t one to just lose his composure on the sidewalk.

Perhaps, he thought to himself, though with some hesitance. Alastor was always taken by surprise whenever his mind conjured up anything he considered to be salacious. But this sudden inspiration fell under same qualifications as his previous idea, if not under an even stricter sense. That was something you definitively needed to want, being it was something he very, very rarely desired to give. 

And what was it about you that made him want to? Clearly, some small part of him did. Had it just been too long and you happened to be an option now that this feeling was rearing its ugly head again? No. Alastor was too… picky to just choose someone out of convenience. He was unashamed to admit he had standards when it came to this. In fact, he felt the real issue at hand was that too many sinners didn’t, fucking anything that breathed with abandon.

His pulse jumped at the word: fucking. Was that even what he wanted? It would be enough just to have you taste him, bite into the flesh of his wrist and lap away at the blood that eagerly pooled to the surface. If you earned it, of course. As mentioned, his body wasn’t something he offered up on a whim to just anyone. But the thought of you enjoying it, unraveling at the feeling he hoped to inspire in you, your sullen face relaxed in the throes of pleasure in the taboo. His mind was racing now, running away with the fantasy as it so often did in these uncommon moments. 

What sounds could he illicit from you? He nearly bit through his tongue, thinking on the satisfaction it would bring to hear your voice, normally tinged with some level of sass, pleading and heady in his ears. How would you taste in his mouth — clean and tart, rich and sweet? What would you smell like, blooming under the touch of his mouth and hands? 

It wasn’t prudent of him to get swept up in this daydream, knowing the caveat to any of it being your willingness to partake. And he’d sooner face Adam’s axe again than ask, at least not without the inclination of acquiescence, which at this point was unknown to him. Uncharted waters.

Alastor hadn’t noticed that there was a sizable diameter of empty space between him and any other demon who happened to be walking by; rightfully threatened by the hungry look in his eyes, the tautness of his fanged smile, and the static that was crackling in the air around him as he approached the dry cleaners.

Thankfully he still had a bit of time to kill before Valentino arrived, needing every second he could get to center himself before their meeting. Were it not for his gloves, his clawed fingers would’ve easily punctured the soft skin of his palms, he was so wound up. But it was invigorating, this little idea of his, already feeling the ache ebb away as he shelved it for safe keeping. Only time would tell when he could dust it off.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The afternoon had actually been… fun.

It had been a long time since you had experienced that, feeling a little ridiculous now as you lounged on your bed, thinking back on how nervous you had been to be roped into the daily activity with everyone. Charlie had obviously lead the charge, but the whole group had made you feel very welcome. Niffty had even sat next to you the entire time, her approval something you were unaware you were even wanting but now grateful to have. She was actually really charming.

Since it was your first time, it was mostly story-telling and introductions for your sake. It was clear they were a tight-knit bunch, and you found yourself hoping to find a place in their little circle. That seemed to be your theme for the day; seeing where you stand, fitting in. But it felt nice to open up, divulging bits and pieces of yourself to your housemates. You hadn’t realized how much you missed being part of a group, gossiping and sharing anecdotes. 

You told them about the accounting job you had, well-paying but boring all the same, which you didn’t think you minded at the time. Looking back, it really was just for a paycheck. There was no passion in your heart for it, and it was downright mayhem during tax season. Vaggie joked that she would be keeping this in mind when the need arose for bookkeeping, with you quipping back about cruel and unusual punishment.

A knock at the door interrupted your reverie, and you got up to answer it, opening your door to Alastor’s smiling face. The brief moment of butterflies you felt faded when you noticed the tired look in his eyes. You weren’t sure what mood you were expecting him to come back in, but you knew he had something on his mind. Beyond fetching you to perform chores — which he rarely did anyway, preferring that you came to him — what else would he stop by your room for than to deliver some kind of news?

He swept over you, no doubt picking your outfit apart all the way down to your bare feet. You were well aware that the cardigan and slip dress didn’t exactly fit into his definition of put together. Frankly, you were surprised Alastor didn’t force you to wear a corset under your uniform, a complaint you wisely kept to yourself for fear of giving him ideas. But for this, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, relishing the sparse opportunities you had to be in your own comfortable clothes; the v-shaped neckline of the dress allowing your poor décolletage to get some much-needed air. Besides, what could he really say? You were technically off the clock.

“May I come in?” he asked with a jarring sobriety, the absence of his radio filter giving you a chill. This wouldn’t be like the tête-à-tête you had this morning on the balcony. 

You simply moved out of the way, giving him the space to enter your room before closing the door behind you, keeping your attention on him as he stood with his back to you. Alastor’s shoulders moved as he took a breath, his expression concealed as his head fell back, looking to the ceiling as he exhaled.

He maintained this position as he spoke. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you, Sylvie. It won’t be dangerous, but it won’t be pleasant, either.”

There it was again, the illusion of choice. Why did he keep presenting things to you this way when he didn’t need to? Not that it upset you, it was a polite gesture after all, but well… He beckoned, you came running. Was it smart to be so willing to do his bidding? No. But after Angel talked a little about the way Valentino treats him — which he seemed to handle with a bravery you could only hope to have a portion of — you knew there was a level of safety that came with belonging to Alastor. Certain lines he simply wouldn’t cross out of duty to himself, resulting in a strange benevolence for you.

“What is it?” You were surprised at the calm in your voice. 

Alastor seemed to be too, his ear flicking at the sound before finally turning to look at you. The soft expression on his face sent blood rushing to your cheeks. You could almost mistake it for pride. Toward you. A burden you weren’t prepared to handle, apparently. A small sigh escaped him as he closed the gap between you and he absently picked at the shoulder of your cardigan, pinching the soft fabric in his fingers as he worked through what he was going to say next. For your part, you just tried to keep your breathing even and your hands to yourself. 

He released you, smirking without his usual venom but still with that strained look in his eye. The fraction of instinct you had that still worked told you that this wasn’t good, but you had a hard time letting that sink in the way it should, too distracted by the charge in the air between you.

“I met with Valentino today,” he said quietly, giving you a small, knowing smile as your brows knit together in concern. “He wants to meet you, in two days. As of right now that’s all it is but he’s reserved the right to make a final decision on what he wants once he speaks with you,” he practically choked on the words, anger nipping at the edge of his voice as he continued, “And there were certain… concessions that had to be made, given the circumstances. Proud as I am at what you did, I can also appreciate certain aspects of Valentino wanting reparation.”

You felt like a toddler being scolded for acting up in front of company, unable to stop yourself from looking away from him, embarrassment blending into your fear. He wasn’t wrong though, and you always had a feeling you would need to make up for what you did to Donny somehow. Meeting with Valentino was the least you could do, guilt already eating away at you for the position you had put Alastor in. No wonder he had been so upset last night…

“Will you be with me, at least?”

The question was out before you could stop it, the blush on your cheeks threatening to melt your face it was so hot with shame. Alastor huffed a laugh, the mischief returning to his eyes in a way that made you feel dizzy. 

“I’m afraid I don’t elaborate on stupid questions.”

Maybe it was the low timbre of his voice, or the familiarity of his smug grin when he knew he had denied you something. But the irritation you typically felt when he spoke to you this way was nowhere to be found, your brain practically empty with the exception of one thing. 

I’m so… fucked.

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco

[rebeliz7]

MONSTER

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Underworld!Reader

Word Count: 5375

…

“You’re a monster!”

The words seem to echo in your head, as your wife clearly debates whether or not she should take them back. Not that you think she would, not after what happened--not after what she saw you doing. 

All the anger you were feeling just seconds ago evaporates, leaving only hurt in its wake. You can’t believe she’d scream that at you, not even while the two of you were fighting. 

The fight is over now, not that you can even remember what you were fighting about in the first place. At this point you two could have been yelling spiteful things at each other because of the phone charger, because that’s who you’ve become. 

It doesn’t take much to ignite a fight nowadays, anyways. 

You’re a monster. 

The venom in her voice, the way she spit the words at you--the moment is replaying in a loop in your head now. 

Finally, you manage to look away from her eyes and leave the room. 

She doesn’t stop you. 

…

“You good?” Bucky asks you when you join the team in the conference room, which is where your feet took you automatically. He seems to be the only one who notices, or cares. 

The world seems to tilt on you, as you remember that it’s the middle of the day, and you went to your floor earlier to get your wife--because there’s a mission and she wasn’t here for the debriefing. 

She was on the phone when you entered your shared bedroom, but she ended the call as soon as you closed the door behind you. You asked her who she was talking to, and she exploded. 

You’re a monster. 

You can’t believe she’d say that. Not after everything she knows. 

“I’m fine.” You reply, as you take a seat. 

He takes your response the same way all of them do, not completely uninterested but keeping a safe distance from you. 

They’ve never seen you as more than an ally, and Natasha’s wife. They’ve never really accepted you, and although you all live under the same roof, they’ve never concerned themselves with making you feel at home. 

You don’t belong here, you never really have. 

You’d keep your distance too, you think. They know who you are after all--what you are, you don’t blame them. 

Natasha enters the conference room, and her mood seems to invade every single corner of it. There’s no mistaking her attitude, and the anger that threatens to eat her away every time she’s forced to be in the same room as you. 

It wasn’t always like this--she loved you, you’re sure she did. But things have changed, and everything she once loved about you, now seems to have pushed her away. 

“Any takers?” Tony asks, and you finally look up. The map behind him shows a Hydra base with almost every single corner secured. 

It’s a dangerous mission, no one is eager to go because as important as it is to retrieve a nuclear weapon Hydra is threatening to use against the people in London if they don’t get what they want, everyone in this team has something to live for, even you. 

But your life, your existence is slightly different than theirs is. Maybe your time is up. 

Your father warned you though, he warned you that if you left home then he wouldn’t be able to protect you from these situations. Mortality is--not something you understand completely. You didn’t care at the time, you were in love and to be with Natasha you needed to be on earth and not--you needed to be on this mortal realm because she’s human. 

The room grows quieter the longer the seconds drag on, and with a sinking feeling in your gut, you decide to take this one. You don’t know what will happen, but if you leave now you think it’ll give the people who loved you and still do a little bit of peace. 

“I’ll do it.” You speak, and your wife’s eyes are suddenly on you. 

“What?” She asks, growls, but you don’t look at her. This is not the right place, and maybe these people are nothing more than a working team to you, but you’re far from letting them see what a wreckage your marriage has turned into. 

You left everything to be here, everything. 

“Me too,” Bucky says, but you don’t look at him either. 

“No, you’re not.” Steve tells him.

“It’s too dangerous.” Wanda’s hand is on Bucky’s arm, her concern clear. “We should plan better. Go all in, or none at all.”

The last time Wanda fought Hydra, they hit her with a powerful weapon meant to disable her powers. She was unconscious for two days, and now she’s not eager to ever face Hydra again.  

“Let’s think about this for a second.” Sam joins in the conversation, and in the blink of an eye you have a room full of people hellbent on keeping Bucky out of this mission. 

The more they raise their voice, you wonder, where was this concern when you initially offered yourself for this mission?

You’re not close to any of them, you’ve never been good at making friends, but it still hurts. 

It hurts, because they know about your father’s warning. They know you can die here too.

Natasha tries to touch your hand, and her words replay in your mind again. You move your hand away and stand up, only to walk towards Stark in the front of the room. 

“When do I have to leave?” You ask him, and he’s uncomfortable as he hands you a tablet, holding all the details of the mission. 

“In an hour.” He clears his throat, looks into your eyes and looks away just as fast. 

“Okay.” 

Natasha’s eyes are glued on you as you leave the room, but she doesn’t try to stop you. No one else seems to notice your departure. 

…

This time you go straight to daycare. Your daughter runs to your open arms the moment she spots you, and everything else loses importance, even if for a couple of minutes. 

“It’s so cold, mommy.” Elizabeth squeezes you in her arms, and you rub her back soothingly. It’s snowing outside, but the temperature is comfortable in the room, which makes you smile because Beth has always been a bit too dramatic for her own good. 

“I know, princess.” You put her down, and let her guide you towards her desk in the middle of the room. 

“Look at my unicorn, mommy.” She shows you a drawing, and the next couple of minutes you spend them with her. 

At one point you watch Tony walking in as well, and picking up Morgan before leaving with her. 

You’re a monster.

The words continue to replay in your head, making you feel hurt all over again. You’ve always thought that Natasha was the only person who didn’t see you like that. 

You were wrong though. The only person who doesn’t see you like that is this little girl, your kid.

When you leave daycare, you’re not exactly feeling better but at least you do it with the knowledge that someone cares about you, Elizabeth cares and even if you don’t come back you’ll still have a way to take care of her. 

…

“Barnes is going with you.” Natasha tells you the moment you step inside your bedroom, where she’s been waiting, apparently. 

You stop moving just inside the room, looking at her and her tensed posture. It wasn’t always like this, she loved you. 

She used to love you.

“The things I did before--” you start and she growls in annoyance. 

“Not this again.” She interrupts you. 

“I thought you knew me. I thought you knew I’m not an actual monster. I left everything for us.”

“Yeah, well.” She swallows, and her eyes find yours with only a little bit of insecurity in them. “Maybe I don’t really know you. Maybe we really did rush into this. And maybe you can't fight whatever it is that lives within you.”

Those words steal your breath away completely. This, she says, referring to your marriage, your family and the little girl you two adopted two years ago. 

She says it as if she doesn’t remember all you gave up to be with her. Not that you blame her, she never asked you to give up anything, you made that decision on your own. 

The pain in your gut seems to spread to every inch of your body, and you wonder if she knows what she’s doing to you, or if she even cares anymore.

You father warned you, of course. He told you all about humans, but you fell for Natasha and he saw it too. There was no stopping you. 

“You don’t love me anymore.” You speak, and she doesn’t look away when she answers. 

“Love is for children.” She spits out, and you try to swallow down your heartbreak. 

“Okay.” You nod, and she sighs. 

“Okay? Do you get what I’m trying to say?” She asks, and although you’re one step away from breaking down, you still meet her anger with your own. 

“You’re ending our marriage. I’m not an idiot.”

“You don’t care to know why?” She asks. 

“You already told me.” You answer as you pick up your bag from the closet. “I’m a monster, right?”

…

Everything goes sideways as soon as you and Barnes touch ground. You’re both hit with darts, and neither one of you has the time to even speak through your coms before you fall unconscious. They were waiting for you.

You wake up on the ground of a flying cargo jet. Your mouth is covered with duct tape, and there are ropes tied tightly around your wrists and ankles. You try to locate Barnes without alerting the couple of masked guards sitting a few feet away from you, but as far as you can tell he’s not here. 

You have two options, you can get out of these ropes and kill everyone on this jet but there’s no guarantee that the pilot will take you to your real destination. Or, you can pretend to be unconscious and let them believe they’ve captured you. 

“How are we gonna do this?” You hear one of the men ask.

“We’re not doing it. They’ll make the Winter Soldier do it. Hydra’s name won’t even come up.”

“It’ll be the end of the Avengers.”

They continue to talk, but you barely listen anymore. They’re gonna program Barnes to do their dirty work, which means that your mission just got more complicated than it initially was. 

You’ll have to stop a nuclear attack, and rescue Barnes on the way too. 

…

You don’t know where you land, but it’s hours after you heard the guards talk. The jet lands on an underground facility, and you’re carried inside a large cell made of glass walls. 

With no way to communicate with base, you sit up as the ropes around your wrist and ankles burn in flames at your will. 

You’re about to open up a portal on the thick glass wall to your right, when the air stills and time itself comes to a stop.

You feel the atmosphere thickening before a portal opens up on the floor a few feet away from you, and your father emerges from it. 

He’s wearing a black suit, three piece, and a large coat hanging from his shoulders. He has a cigar between his teeth, and fire burning in his eyes. 

“My kid.” He grins, while you sit back down on the iron bench the guards left you. 

“Father.” You incline your head in respect, and he sighs before shaking his foot to get rid of a few little lingering flames.  

“This is the end of your journey,” he says without sugarcoating anything, while walking closer and sitting next to you. “As a mortal, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree with unmasked sadness. “How will it happen?”

You refuse to look at him just yet, but he still offers you a cigar and you take it. 

It was your thing back at home, he’d come to see you and offer you a cigar and you’d talk for hours. You’d join him at court, and he’d offer you a cigar while you two listened to his advisors talk for hours. You’d look for him down at the pits, and he’d always offer you a cigar while you waited for the boatkeeper to count his coins. 

It’s sort of poetic that he’s come all the way up with one, to warn you one more time.

“They’re gonna torture you for a couple of hours, and you’ll let it happen because the longer they interrogate you the longer your ‘friends’ have to get here.”

“Will they get here in time?” You ask him, as he lights up your cigar and he watches until you take a long drag. 

“Yes.”

You’ve never died before, your siblings have and even your father experienced it once . You’re scared, and he sees it. 

“They won’t save you, it’ll be too late for that but they’ll save the other one, and they’ll stop the nuclear attack too.”

A part of you wants to ask him to intervene, but you know you can’t. He’ll punish you for asking, and he won’t lift a finger to intervene. He respects the law, he abides by it and anyone who’s ever dared to cross him is still paying for it and will continue to pay for it until the end of times. 

“What if I attack first?” You ask, and he takes a deep breath. The room is filled with smoke, the taste of the cigar has lost its appeal on your tongue but you still take another drag. 

Among his many qualities, your father can see what will happen according to a multitude of choices a person can make in a split second, so you know he’ll tell you the truth. 

“Chaos will erupt. They shoot the other guy in the face first, and then they release the nuclear weapon. London is wiped off, the Avengers find you to be the only survivor on this base but it wouldn’t matter either way.”

“They’ll blame me.” You conclude, and he nudges your shoulder with his affectionately. 

“They’ll blame you.”

Time goes by with the two of you smoking your cigars, and no talk. 

You were almost on your way to attack this base, his showing up at that exact second was not a coincidence. He’s come to ask you to make the right choice. 

It’s not common for him to have a say in these types of things, so you know it means more than he’s letting on. He has a chance to make something right, you both do.

“You will still be able to see your daughter,” he tells you. “I’ll make sure of it.”

When he meets your stare the fire in his eyes is burning brightly, a beautiful contrast to his skin. The dimples on his cheeks are prominent as he grins at you, and you know the same dimples appear on your face as you smile back. 

Your mother always said that the reason why he loved you the most out of all their children, is because you’re his spitting image. You always argued that the truth couldn’t be further from her statement, since out of all your siblings you’re the only one sane enough. 

But you know it’s the truth, he’s always loved the way you smile and those dimples reminded him that you’re his daughter. The first time he saw your eyes burning like his do, he laughed so loud that even the souls in the Styx River peaked out to marvel at the sound of it. 

He was an angel once, after all, and the sound of his laughter remains to be the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. 

When you finish your cigar he promptly stands up, and you do too. 

“Your mother misses you,” he says just as a portal opens up on the floor and you catch sight of the raging flames that surround it. 

The thought of your mother makes you smile, you miss her too. 

“Well, you can tell her I’ll be home for dinner.” You smile, although a treacherous tear rolls down your cheek. Your father is quick to wipe it off for you, the back of his fingers graze your cheek as he smiles too. 

“She knows.” He sighs, and the flame in his eyes dissipates and leaves in its wake the saddest look that you’ve ever seen on your father’s face.

“I’m sorry you had to learn about humans this way.” He says, and the sorrow of his soul spreads all over you and even home, it seems. The flames of his open portal evaporate, and smoke rises up from it. 

“I imagine there’s no other way to learn this lesson.” You swallow with difficulty and he kisses your temple, his hands cupping your face. 

“I’ll see you home, kid.” He smiles. “That dog of yours has been missing you.”

You chuckle, as you picture the faces of your three headed dog howling into the dark skies, begging for your return. He always tended to be a bit dramatic. 

“Thank you, dad.” You tell him as he begins his descent, and he smiles one last time before he’s gone. 

…

They do come for you, they take you to an interrogation room where they begin by hitting you. They move you into a different glass room, and you can see them trying to reprogram Barnes in the next room too. 

It’s not an easy task, since he had all his triggers removed when he was in Wakanda. They try and they try, and they attempt to punch the answer to his resistance out of you but you give them none. 

Barnes looks at you, but he’s too weak and he still has his metal arm. That’s how you realize how the team will find you, the arm has a tracer. Stark installed it a couple of weeks ago, Barnes wasn’t happy about it but it’s paying off either way. 

Hours go by, and by then they’ve pulled out seven of your finger nails with tweezers. The pain is the worst, the pain still shocks you, and makes you feel smaller than you really are. 

You don’t feel any pain at home, pain is not something made for your kind. Pain is human, and you remind yourself that you chose this and endure it. 

Weakness doesn’t embrace you, it’s not natural for you to feel tired, let alone weak in the face of trouble. Which is the reason why your capturers continue to beat you, and cut you and even shoot you. 

By the time you hear a commotion, your head feels funny and your vision is blurry. They hit you in the head a lot, and the gunshots on your abdomen are already taking your life away. This body is human after all. 

You see the Captain going for Barnes, and Barnes collapsing in his arms. The glass around you shatters and Wanda’s powers swirl all around you, before Natasha falls on her knees next to you. 

She’s talking, her lips are moving and tears begin to roll down her face the moment she blinks. 

She yells something over her shoulder, more people gather around you and Natasha is touching you, but you can’t feel it. 

I still love you, you want to tell her. 

I will always love you. 

She’s crying as she holds you, her sobs make her body shake as she speaks, but you can’t feel her touch and you can’t listen to a word she’s saying. 

You’re a monster. 

The memory flashes through your mind, hurting you even worse than all the wounds that are killing this human part of you do. 

She saw you capturing two rogue demons yesterday. They were hard to find, and ever harder to apprehend. They laughed at you, and you had to remind them who you are. 

You’ve never shown Natasha that side of you, not willingly anyway. She knows who you are, she knows the things that you do or used to do, because of being who you are. 

She also knows that you left everything for her, everything. You left your home, and stopped answering your father’s call for her. 

Your father warned you, of course. He said that loving someone like you wouldn’t be easy, and he was right. She was always going to see who you really are in your eyes, there’s no escaping it, there never really was. 

Now she cries, brokenly and desperately as you die. 

…

Your mother welcomes you back with nothing but joy. She’s prepared a feast for your arrival, and your siblings are eager to hear about the way you were tortured. 

Nothing compares to the things you see down here, of course, but it’s still entertaining for all of you. 

You go back to being who you were before you met Natasha, and you visit your daughter regularly although not wearing the same face twice. She’s growing into a beautiful young woman, brave and clever like her mother. 

Natasha doesn’t forget you, and she mourns your death for years. She regrets calling you a monster, not that it makes a difference after you’re gone. 

She tries to move on a couple of times, but nothing lasts. 

As for you, you never really move on from them, not even after their mortal time is up and they’re forever gone. 

… 

[moonmaiden1996]

Butler's Bride

Some requested this ages ago, but I forgot to post it till now.

The nights grew colder, the wind harsher as autumn settled over the Phantomhive manor, painting the grounds in deep reds and browns. You had come to work here at the insistence of your father, who saw nothing more than a powerful alliance in your role as the manor’s herbalist and healer. Hidden behind the guise of a mere servant, you blended potions and mixed spells, weaving remedies for Ciel’s asthma and carefully protecting your brother’s health from afar. Yet you knew the real reason you were here—your father’s relentless pursuit of power, a way to bind you to the Phantomhive name, by your work. The bitter irony was not lost on you: even now, he attempted to control you from a distance.

Each day passed in a haze, with you performing your duties and forcing yourself to ignore the weight of Sebastian’s gaze, which seemed to settle over you at every turn.

Sebastian watched you intently, his fascination growing with each spell you cast, every whispered incantation that passed your lips. But fascination was only the beginning. As he studied you from the shadows, he felt the first hints of something darker and more dangerous—a need, primal and consuming, that had been growing since the first time he saw you in that moonlit clearing, casting spells in the depths of the forest. He had seen countless mortals succumb to love, to obsession, but this—this was something more, rooted in the twisted hunger of his demonic nature.

You moved through the manor as if you were a ghost, performing your duties with eerie grace, speaking only when necessary. The cold distance between you both drove him mad, stirring his possessive instincts as nothing else had before. How could you deny him? You belonged to him, and he was prepared to make sure you understood that.

One night, as you poured over ingredients in the dim warmth of the manor’s hidden apothecary, you heard the soft rustle of fabric as Sebastian entered the room. You didn’t bother to look up, focusing instead on the delicate powder you were adding to your potion. His presence was as familiar as your own heartbeat, lingering in every dark corner, in every shadow. He’d likely come to observe you yet again, standing too close, always watching.

“What are you working on this evening?” he asked smoothly, voice a dark caress in the quiet room.

“An infusion,” you replied curtly, the cold bite of your words clear.

"For the master, or for someone else?” His voice lowered, edged with something unspoken, and a shadow of a smile played on his lips as he stepped closer, his gaze never wavering from your face. The air around you grew heavy, charged with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“For my brother,” you said evenly, your fingers tightening around the vial in your hand.

“Ah, your brother,” he murmured. “Always so fiercely devoted to him. Yet… if only he could see that perhaps you could do more for him if you were to accept the power you would gain at my side.”

You turned to him, something sparking in your eyes as you met his gaze. “I will never be your puppet, Sebastian,” you said, your voice low and defiant. “You may have twisted my father’s hand, but you will not twist mine.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. He stepped closer, so close that you could feel the unnatural chill radiating from him, a reminder of what he truly was. “Puppet?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “I think you misunderstand me. What I want is far from control. I want a partner—a true companion. I want you to choose this of your own free will, to choose me, and to bind yourself to me. But if I must, I will claim you by any means necessary.”

“Claim me?” You scoffed, even as his words sent a shiver down your spine. “I am not some prize to be won, demon.”

His expression softened, though his eyes remained intense, unwavering. “It’s true—you are far more than that. You are a force, wild and untamed, like magic itself.’’ his gloved hand danced across your cheek as he spoke. “That is why I seek you as my bride. Do you think I would look twice at someone who cowers, who lives in fear? No. It is your defiance, your strength, that calls to me. But we both know that you cannot be free of your father’s influence without someone powerful enough to keep him away.”

The words settled over you like a dark promise, wrapping around your heart and soul. As much as you hated it, he was right. Your father was a cruel, calculating man who had already made it clear he would go to any length to control you, to use you for his own ends. Marrying Sebastian had already reduced your father’s hold over you, giving you enough freedom to protect your brother. Yet, his influence lingered, a shadow over your life that you knew wouldn’t fade unless you took drastic action. If Sebastian truly meant what he said, he could be the final step toward severing that connection forever.

“And what would I gain by accepting this arrangement?” you asked, refusing to give in without a fight. “If I’m to be your bride, as you call it, what would I receive in return?”

Sebastian’s gaze softened, his hand reaching to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the possessive darkness that lingered in his voice. “Protection,” he replied. “Freedom from your father’s tyranny. A place where you can practise your craft without fear, without the constant worry that he might interfere. And,” he added, his voice lowering, almost a whisper, “the opportunity to harness your power as no one else can. To truly live as you are meant to.”

You held his gaze, studying him with a silent intensity, weighing his words against the reality of your situation. There was a hint of something in his eyes—a vulnerability, almost, as though he were offering you a part of himself. In that moment, you realised he was not lying, nor was he manipulating you. In his twisted way, he meant every word. Sebastian Michaelis wanted you, not as a pawn or possession, but as a companion, a partner bound by blood and darkness.

"And my brother?” you asked quietly, your voice softening as you began to relent.

Sebastian inclined his head. “He will be under my protection, as I promised. And if you ever wished for him to come to the estate, I would see to it myself that he is safe and cared for.”

A long silence hung between you, the weight of your choice pressing down on you. Accepting him would mean aligning yourself with a demon, with darkness itself. But refusing him… refusing him would leave you forever vulnerable to your father’s influence, shackled to a past that would haunt you until it destroyed everything you loved.

Slowly, you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his in a silent acceptance. His grip tightened almost immediately, as though he feared you might slip away, but when you looked up into his crimson eyes, you saw a glint of something else—a depth of desire tempered by respect, an acknowledgment that you had chosen this path willingly.

Sebastian’s lips quivered into a smile, a dark satisfaction spreading across his face. “You are mine,” he said softly, his voice a promise, a claim that resonated with both pride and reverence. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, a touch both tender and possessive. “In darkness, in power, and in blood.”

For the first time, you felt a strange warmth settle in your chest—a feeling of neither love nor hatred but something entirely different, something born of choice and fate intertwined. You had accepted him, this demon who saw in you not just a woman, but a partner equal to his power, equal to his darkness.

As you gazed into his eyes, you knew you had made a pact not with a man but with a force beyond comprehension, a promise woven into the very fabric of shadows. And though it was not love that bound you, it was something else, something fierce and unbreakable, something that would endure beyond life and death itself.

You were no longer merely a witch or a sister—you were his bride, his chosen, bound to a demon who would do whatever it took to see your power fully realised, to see you free. In him, you had found a strange kind of freedom—a dark and twisted liberation that would shield you from all who sought to control you, all it cost you was your hand in marriage.

Please like, comment, or make a request. I am hoping to write more spicy Sebastian stories in the future

[mslanna]

What about Raphael realizing that Tav thinks she means nothing to him? Maybe another fiend is getting wrecked by Raphael, so the other fiend grabs Tav to use as a living shield & hostage and is all "Unless you want this mortal to die, you'd best stay back!" only for Tav to give a sad laugh and tell the enemy fiend "You're an idiot if you think I mean that much to him." I just really want to see Raphael having an 'Oh 💩' moment regarding his feelings for his little mouse and how he had been handling (or failing to handle) it... 😅

enby Tav without body configuration Angst and anger happy end Read on AO3

Nobody's Fool

One good thing that came from the tadfools company to his little mouse was that by now, Tav did not suffer shitty father figures. Or mothers. Any kind of sub-par parent. They set Ulder Ravengard straight and got up in the face of any god trying to control their followers through bad parenting practices. Vlaakith was fighting her unruly daughter now and Mystra lost Gale to the plight of mortals. Even Shar was having troubles.

Lucky for him, that Raphael had a truly spectacularly bad father to show for. An irresistible cause for Tav. So instead of hobnobbing it out with the gentry of Baldur's Gate or kicking back at the wizards tower in Waterdeep, they were back. At his side this time, where they belonged. And they kicked ass.

A beautiful sight to watch his paladin – their oath might as well be to him at this point – throw themself into battle. Their armour – hand-picked by Raphael himself to reinforce their strengths and highlight their ferocious beauty – shone with reflecting light on the golden pattern and splatters of enemy blood.

It was almost enough to distract Raphael from his own role in the fight. He rained hellfire over the attaching devils. Some were not smart enough to realise the difference to normal fire which couldn't hurt them. They paid for their stupidity with their lives.

Ksula didn't like that but the devil also didn't care about the deaths of his underlings. While the devil had expected the parlay to be a trap, he did not anticipate how few people Raphael needed to take him down. Yurgir with a squad of cambions. Korrilla. And of course, Tav.

Tav did the work of a squad all by themself. The few opponents getting past them, close enough to be a danger to him, were easily picked off by Korrilla. And Yurigr wiped the floor with what was left of Ksula's forces. If the other devil was smart, which Raphael doubted, he would make a desperate dash for a last second deal any moment now.

Ksula did, but not in the way Raphael expected. Black smoke shot from his hands and materialised into sticky tentacles around Tav's armour. With a jerk, Ksula pulled the paladin towards him. Tav stumbled, not fast enough on their feet for the lighting speed. They crashed into the devil who immediately put his blade to their throat.

The helldusk armour only left a tiny weakness because the wearer needed to be able to turn their head. But Ksula knew about it and exactly where to apply to blade to pry the plates apart.

"If you want your mortal to live, you better surrender," Ksula grinned.

Raphael's blood turned to ice, churning through his veins and extinguishing all fire. His first instinct was to launch himself at Ksula and rip his throat out. An appropriate reaction, though endangering Tav's life. His eyes narrowed in on the blade sitting between the armour plates, teasing Tav's skin.

He shouldn't hesitate. His devil nature demanded action regardless of cost. Raphael looked at Tav and the cold in his veins froze solid. Tav was not a cost he was willing to pay. Tav was – not expendable. He growled under his breath.

Of course he was protective of his little mouse. They were an asset, a treasured former client. Loyal to a fault without contract or binding agreements. Of course he kept them close. Kept them safe. Still, If Ksula had Korrilla in his grasp, Raphael doubted he had hesitated.

The maelstrom of his thoughts came up with no feasible solution. Anything he could do endangered Tav. But if he yielded now, Ksula would retreat with the perfect shield. He'd never let Tav go again, the perfect – and only – safeguard against the cambion. Raphael glanced to Yurgir and Korrilla, both waiting for instructions.

He had none. The thought that harm befell Tav – irreversible, deadly – was unbearable. Raphael's body froze up in a panic unknown. He simply could not endanger his little mouse. At least Tav would live if he surrendered now. There would be a time to save them. Hopefully.

A drop of sweat mixed with enemy blood ran down the side of Tav's face. He would make everybody who dared touch them suffer for eternity. He'd scour the word, all realms and the nine hells for any who laid hand on his little mouse.

The force of the possessive rage surprised Raphael. At the same time, it conveniently covered the deeper roots of it. His blood ignited again, ready to strike. His little mouse would be safe. They were his and after this battle, they

It was Tav who broke the silence. An unexpected fit of laughter shook their body so hard, a thin line of blood seeped down the blade. "You're as stupid as you look," they got out between bouts of laughter. "You think that will stop him? Raphael? He doesn't care."

The words cut the cambion to the bone. But they also relaxed Ksula's grip on his mouse a little. A smart ploy. If Tav could convince the Ksula he did not care…

"Oh my, you really believe he cares!" Tav wheezed. "I'm a tool, Ksula. Well-kept, honed and treasured, but just a tool still." They looked at Raphael, their eyes dark with a sadness glowing deep in them. "I'm not even the one most difficult one to replace."

Their face fell into a wistful resignation and Tav went limp in the devil's grip. "It's alright. I always knew it'd end like this."

What was that supposed to mean? Anger flared up in Raphael. How dare they resign in the face of – well, in the face of what exactly?

… tell me, oh apple of my eye…

Words spoken to serenade Tav into a deal with him. Words used and put at the forefront. A perfect façade. When did it slip? At what point was it not a sweet lure any longer? Raphael frowned. This feeling was not new. He avoided putting a finger, or a name, on it. But the hot surge of anger, hate and desperation made it impossible to ignore.

His eyes softened as he looked at his little mouse. His little mouse. On a crusade against shitty parents for him. A flimsy disguise if he had ever seen one. But he had accepted it. If Tav needed an excuse, they should have it.

Their eyes showed that the excuse was now discarded on the floor. Only soft truth shone in their gaaze. A truth he would have to confirm as soon as they were alone. His lips tightened into a thin line. However he would get his mouse of this predicament, their reward would be truly infernal.

"Do I get last words?" Tav asked softly. They glanced at Ksula.

"Make it short." The devil forced Tav's head up with his blade.

Raphael wanted to cut his tongue out. For a start. There were many forms of torture and so far he had never applied all of them to the same individual. Ksula would be the first. His fingers trembled with the need to make a fist. But his best chance was to seem unaffected, just as Tav claimed he was.

How could they even claim that? Why would Tav believe such drivel? He had been generous with his gift, time and attention. They had a place in his House of Hope, at his side in all of his plans. A subject he'd have to breach vigorously.

Tav smiled at him. It wasn't really sad and they slowly raised their empty hand as if reaching for him. The hand changed course in the last moment and Tav cast their words with a soft sigh: "Temperari Monstrum."

[xf-cases-solved]

S2E2: The Host 😔

Case: In what is an episode I have purposefully avoided rewatching for at least a decade—because it is DISGUSTING—we find ourselves off the coast of New Jersey, bc of course this hellscape of an episode takes place in fucking New Jersey. A Russian kid on a ship gets pulled into a septic tank (ew) by A Creature, and his body is discovered in a sewer (ew) a few days later. Skinner gives this case to Mulder, and Mulder is pissed about it, for which I don't blame him for a second bc it is, quite literally, shit work. (This does, however, lead to a very funny confrontation where Mulder throws a tantrum at Skinner, only to then discover he's currently in a meeting. I did lol at that, I'll admit.) 

Anyway, Mulder reluctantly continues with the case, secretly recruiting Scully on the side to do some autopsy(!!) work and to pick her brain for science, even though the bosses said they aren't allowed to sit next to each other in class anymore. The episode just gets worse and worse and fucking worse from there, when Scully discovers a flukeworm (ew) in the dead kid's body. More evidence continues to compile, soon making it clear that what they're dealing with is something much larger and much grosser than they could have ever anticipated. 

People keep walking around and getting covered in sewer water, making me want to scrub myself so clean all the skin comes off my body; a man coughs up a worm and it is Horrible; Deep Throat is gone, but it looks like he might have a successor (!!!); Mulder and Scully have a friend in the FBI, I wonder who it could be 🤔 (hint: he's bald); and Mulder briefly considers quitting, but somehow THIS fucking episode is the one that convinces him to stay. (Like, I get it, learning he has an ally in Skinner is all well and good or whatever, I GET IT, okay? But look. If my boss was claiming to be my ally and then forced me to chase after a giant man-eating sewer worm—requiring me to BE in the literal sewer in the process btw—I would quietly set my badge and gun down on my boss's desk, walk out the building, and get on the next flight to New Zealand. Fuuuuuuck that, and fuuuuuuck this episode.)

Does someone die in the cold open: Yes, and it is the worst way any person could possibly die.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: He no longer has anyone to present slideshows to. 😔

Does the evidence survive the investigation: If it did, they should fucking burn it.

Whodunit: ☹️ worm man ☹️

Convictions: Chris Carter, for the crime of writing this and then making it exist in the world where I had to watch it with my eyeballs and process its contents with my brain.

Did they solve it: Yes, I suppose they did, in the sense that they figured out what killed that guy, and had a semi-reasonable explanation for how the horrible monster worm was able to come to be. Whether or not the horrible monster worm is still out there being horrid and monstrous? Well, that part remains an X-File.

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Bleach. Pour it in your eyes and also over your whole entire body and forget any of this ever happened.

Oh, and also sponsored by this funny text I accidentally sent my sister:

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 13 (first solve of the season. unfortunate that it had to be this)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me": 6 (told you it starts to go up rly fast)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 6

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 13 (nothing overt, but they did have a nice conversation together, and mulder said something to the effect of being able to work with scully was the only reason he could think to stay at the fbi at this point)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 4 (and there was a worm in the body ☹️)

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 16 (i was too grossed out watching this to properly appreciate it, but X has entered the chat!!!!! my favorite informant!!! i will get into more detail as to why as we make our way through the season, but eep!) 

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Times Someone Correctly Guesses a Password: 3 

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 3 (you know what? i'm upping this stat. why did he go to the sewer in a suit???)

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 3 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 2

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 8

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 1

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 1

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 (but i can hear his slow approach...)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 9½ (of COURSE it's new jersey) 

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 5 (unfortunately i paid attention to the whole thing ☹️)

[anitalenia]

━━━ 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 ₓ˚. ୭

pairing: Ben Miller x fem!reader

synopsis: Ben Miller was a reckless man at times, always taking on more than he could chew just to prove himself more than he already has. After he got shot on a simple recon mission, and didn’t even acknowledge the possible consequence of his actions, you were sent into a tizzy. It wasn’t until you were taking a relaxing bath in the lake did Ben come to you to reconcile, taking you in the water to prove to you he’d never leave.

content includes: unprotected sex, sex in water, lake sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, honey, sweetheart, some angst at the beginning and middle, aftercare-ish, make up sex, near death experiences, reader oblivious to the dangers of a random lake, fingering, titty play, nipple sucking + biting, p cumming in v, overstimulation

warnings: sexual content 18+, bad words and cussing, mentions of guns, bullets, gunshot wounds, and blood. a little inner turmoil too but who doesn’t love that.

authors note: honestly, I love me some Benny fr 😫 also, probably made this a lot more dramatic than it needed to be but oh well.

LINKS ੈ♡˳·˖✶ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 | 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔

⤷ BY THE LAKESIDE, continue reading

BENNY’S HEADY STARE BURNED INTO you from across the fire, heavy with guilt and glittering with the orange flame of mild annoyance. His strong jaw was clenched, dirt smeared on his cheeks and clothes, his hands in tight fists inside his hoodie pockets. He was angry with you for being angry with him, angry that you were making him feel guilty for what reason? He didn’t know, and that made him all the more irritated.

You could feel it, his blue eyes boring into your skin and washing over you like hot oil; it made your flesh prickle. You refused to acknowledge him though, sat next to Pope as the both of you leaned back on a tree stump. Your body ached but your heart was shattered, and you could do nothing but stare into the orange flames with a tense frown, your eyebrows furrowed and lips tight together as the heat warmed your nose and cheeks. The group of five was silent, basking in their own aches and pains, almost scared to say anything and break the tense silence that had comfortably settled over them like a weighted blanket.

It was quiet besides the sounds of a crackling fire and the buzzing of crickets; the occasional ruffle of the trees when a soft breeze would dance through them. Nothing really needed to be said between each other, at least not until the next day. Everyone was still recovering from recon gone terribly wrong; still tense and jumpy at every little sound that sparked around them. This was true, but you were oblivious to the real reason why no one wanted to speak quite yet, for it was clear that the tension brewing between you and your beloved had everyone on high alert, sharing uneasy glances between each other and fiddling with leaves and knifes to distract themselves from it.

The fire hissed out smoke and ash like it was regurgitating the effects of your own anger back at you; right in the middle of you and Benny as you couldn’t sit next to him like nothing was the matter. You stared into the flames intently, absentminded and irritated. The memory of earlier that day kept replaying in your mind like some shitty movie; and you were forced to sit there, a front row seat to the unraveling of your own sanity.

Benny, being cocky like he could be, walking out onto an open road with guards standing right at the gates, thinking his own mortality was just a mere suggestion, that he could just survive a flurry of bullets aimed at his head like his life was limitless. Thankfully, all he had gotten was a bullet in the forearm before Will was gunning the guards down to save his idiotic younger brother. You were thankful he was alright, that some mystical force orchestrating your lives had not cut all his strings just yet, that they let him spend just a little more time with you. But… you couldn’t even begin to describe the pain and panic in your chest when you saw Benny fall down to the gravel, like you had just been shot your self.

You saw the way the dark red pigment of his blood poured into the gravel like his very life force was swimming away from him, the way his face twisted in pain and the way he crumbled to the ground. It was like your whole existence and being had been frozen in time, your body going numb and your mind going blank as your whole life flashed before it like a taunting joke. Your heart stopped beating and your mouth went dry as all you could do was watch from your position in the tree line, your ear piece buzzing with four panicked voices at once like muddled chatter.

It was the worst feeling you had ever experienced, and ever since you couldn’t get rid of that sick feeling in your stomach that made goosebumps rise on your arms, or swallow away the dryness in the back of your throat.

Even then, even if you could’ve recovered from the incident, Benny himself couldn’t admit that what he did was wrong, especially not to you. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that he could’ve died, left you all alone with nothing but the ghost of his memory. After he had patched up his arm, he bounced right back like nothing had gone wrong in the first place. He didn’t reassure you, hug and kiss you and make all your worries go away like he was supposed to. You weren’t sure he remembered you were even there, camouflaged in the brush way up in the trees, unable to leave your post and possibly ruin the mission even further. You were forced to wallow in your own terror, unable to speak and unable to breath, scope shaky from your trembling hands.

And then, and then, the boys found themselves laughing about it just a little while after, on the trek back to the campsite, once Ben was better and too riled up with adrenaline and excitement to consider your feelings. It was almost like they were mocking your worry from where you lingered behind them; you knew they weren’t but you couldn’t see it any other way. You didn’t find it funny, you didn’t even understand how Benny could just brush it off like he didn’t just almost ruin both your lives forever. How could he be smiling like he didn’t just stomp on your soul and rub it in the dirt? How could he be laughing like his own arrogance and stupidity was the funniest thing in the world?

You had been distant ever since, sitting in this one spot and avoiding anyone who tried to talk to you. Benny had even tried to, sensing your bad mood and wanting to fix it. But his concern had come far too late, and you didn’t feel like entertaining him and his ego. So you brushed him off just as he did you, giving him a curt just leave me alone that had his skin going cold like someone had poured a bucket of water over his head. The boys could sense your vexation as well, and even they weren’t sure what had soured your mood so much but they knew better than to pry. They gave you your space, even set your sleeping bag out for you when you isolated yourself at the bonfire with that steely frown on your face.

That had been four hours ago, in the orange glow of the sunset when even the sun couldn’t stand Benny’s indifference any longer. Now, it was late at night, stars twinkling in the dark sky and the full moon staring down at them, witness to your depression. The group was surrounded in darkness and trees only illuminated by the soft glow of the fire, tense and tired as their muscles melted down and their guards softened, sleep weighing down on their heavy eyelids. Gnats buzzed around the fire light and even buzzed past your ears, but you weren’t tired, just frozen.

Benny Miller had been in a confused slump over that time, gradually getting more and more frustrated the longer you refused to talk to him, or fuck, even look at him. There was nothing worse in this world to him than your sorrow, and usually he was the one coddling you and kissing your tears away, rocking you in his arms and protecting you from anything that could’ve hurt you. Shit, even when you were mad at him at least you acknowledged him, screamed at him, called him an inconsiderate asshole and anything else you’d say just to hurt him. But this, this he had never seen.

You weren’t yelling, staring at him with bloodshot eyes and red cheeks, rocking in his strong arms or crying on his shoulder. You were just there, a couple feet in front of him that felt like miles away, thinking about something that had you stressing yourself out and had you pissed off at him along with it. It was the not knowing that irritated him the most; you weren’t talking to him about it to try and fix it, just soaking in it like a hot bath until you were drowning in the idea of it, whatever it was. You weren’t letting him save you, comfort you, hold you and make it all better like you usually do. You were just a cruel statue, and he couldn’t stand it, racking his brain for what he could’ve possibly done in the span of five hours to have you hate him completely… and there was nothing. He had absolutely no clue, and it made him want to punch the ground and take his anger out on something.

But all he could do was stare and hope it bothered you enough to look at him, maybe even tell him to stop. But you were too enraptured in your own mind to give him the time of day, and it made him feel sad and angry and sick to his stomach that you were this mad at him. He felt guilt and regret bubbling in his gut for something he wasn’t sure he even did, and he wanted so badly to vomit out all the apologies and sorry’s you wanted to hear, anything to have you be with him again and make all these bad feelings disappear. But he had a sneaky suspicion that all of his inner turmoil was just some spiteful part of your punishment for him, a consequence you intended from the start.

His mind was just circling and circling, jumping from conclusion to conclusion, replaying the days events over and over and over like he’d find a missing clue to his crime the longer he searched. But it was nothing… nothing, nothing, nothing, and he couldn’t fucking stand it.

You could see the dark outline of Benny’s legs peeking through the flames, and you found yourself staring at his calf’s before you could stop yourself. You forced your eyes to not look further up despite wanting to, knowing it was best. You did love Benny, you loved him a lot, so much so that even if you were mad at him you still subconsciously yearned for him; it was a deeper part of your mind reserved solely for Ben Miller that had been programmed to love every bad part of him ever since you met him. It was sending shocks throughout your body and pulses in your brain, wanted so badly to look at his face, run your hands through his blonde hair and kiss his chapped lips. It made your skin feel cold without his arms around you, your lips tingle at the memory of connecting with his. And it was that love for him that always made you break so much sooner than you wanted to.

But not this time. This wasn’t one of your normal arguments when Benny would forget to text you, forget what you needed from the store, or eat all the food in the fridge without asking. This was life or death and he had just tiptoed his way into the latter, and you weren’t going to break this time, cry and hug and say you’re sorry. You needed space, you needed to think and try and gather some strength back so you could talk to Benny in the morning. You weren’t going to let this slip, let him off the hook like he didn’t almost die and then forget to tell you about it.

You were going to be strong and you were going to let him suffer just as you have suffered.

You turned your head to Pope who was sitting next to you, his legs outstretched in front him and his hands in his lap, fiddling with a stick like it was the most perplex thing in the world. He had some blood stained on his green cargo pants and gray t-shirt, and you couldn’t believe you didn’t notice it before. You swallowed at the sight of it, an anxious feeling sparking up in your chest like a flare until you managed to look up at Pope’s face instead.

“Hey, Pope?” You mumbled quietly, not wanting to speak too loud and scare away the calm.

Pope was almost startled by the sound of your gentle voice, lost in his own head as he thought over battle strategy as always. He turned to you, curious with what you had to say since you hadn’t spoken in quite some time.

He hummed in response, a soft look lurking in the shadow of his brown eyes as he looked at you, not wanting to set you off any further.

“You guys can go ahead and sleep, y’know. I’m gonna go down by the lake and try to wash all this dirt off me. I look a mess.” You gestured down to the dirt matted on your clothes with a small smile, trying to joke with him so he knew you weren’t angry with him or the other guys.

You had seen the lake when you had set up camp the day before, walking around the perimeter as a safety precaution. Right now it seemed like the perfect escape, away from Benny, away from the light, and away from the temptation. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the pull in your gut was taut like a rope wrapped around both your waists, begging you to get up and plop yourself in Benny’s lap like you always would. He was pulling you closer and closer with every long minute that dragged by whether he knew it or not, and you knew the longer you stayed around Benny the quicker it would fall, and you’d be right back in his arms like you were the who did something wrong. You couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t. If Benny wanted to talk to you he would have to come up to you, apologize to you for being the stupidest man on the planet and almost giving you a heart attack.

Until then, you just needed some alone time.

Pope nodded his head, eyes flickering around your face and the way you half-assed a smile. He could see the frazzled look in your eyes though, and despite not wanting anyone to drift off from the group he could see the faint desperation on your face; he knew you needed some space.

“Okay, that sounds good. Take a knife or something with you, just in case. And if something happens—“

“I know. I’ll scream as loud as I can like I’m not a trained military soldier with skills of her own.” You interrupted with a playful roll of your eyes, already pushing off the ground and standing up on your own two feet. You felt your limbs pop from being locked in for four hours straight; the stretch felt good on your sore thighs and arms. Everyone looked at you as you stood, disturbed by the noise. Even Frank, whose eyes had been closed under the rim of his cap, in a soft sleep against a tree, looked up at you, moving his hat out of the way.

Benny couldn’t help the hope that piqued in his heart, thinking this was finally the moment he was waiting for. He stared up at you, his eyes running over your frizzy hair, noting the dirt on your hands and neck but still an Angel bathed in the golden light to him. He was expecting a confrontation at least, or even a look cast his way that he would knew what it meant. But nothing, you just walked towards the tree line like he was nothing but a ghost in the forest, haunting the camp fire with his lamentation.

“Where do you think you’re goin’, young lady?” Frank asked in a playful stern tone, making you crack a small smile at him.

You turned your back to look at him, “I’m going for a swim. Don’t wait up.”

You turned back around and stepped over Pope’s legs, the sight of blood in your peripheral, heading in the direction of the lake with twigs and leaves crunching under your boots.

“Ay, be careful, hermana.” Frank pointed at you in warning, but you just waved a hand in the air in acknowledgment before putting them in your jacket pockets, walking further into the night and staring at the ground as you went, the frown back just as quick as it left.

Benny sank down once more, staring after you like a lost little puppy with some bite behind his bark. He grind his teeth with a small scoff at your behavior, looking away from your back as it disappeared into the darkness, away from the light and away from his eyesight. His chest felt sore like it had just been stomped on, taking heavy breaths to calm himself down as he settled back against a tree, taking a hand out of his pocket and adjusting his hat on his head like a comforting reflex.

Will shared a look with the other two, smacking a knife against his palm from where his elbows rest on his arched knees. They all wanted to say something but knew it was in their best interest not to, especially when it came to butting into Benny’s relationships like they knew better or something. At least, that’s how Benny always took it.

Will shared a knowing look with Pope and Frank, who got the message.

“We’re gonna head off to bed, alright guys? Don’t stay up too late. Remember we have to be up before Gomez if we want things going smoothly this time.” Pope, always the levelheaded leader, gave Benny and Will a pointed look once he got off the dirt, putting his hands in his pants pockets. His dark hair was dusty with dirt, blood from Bennys wound dried on his shirt and pants.

Benny just nodded his head once, not listening to a word.

Frank got off the ground as well, glancing at Benny sympathetically as he adjusted his cap on his head just as Benny did.

“That means no more shootouts, eh?” Frank grinned, making a jab at Benny as he slapped Pope on the shoulder with a light shove. Benny saw as he walked past Pope and to the direction of the sleeping bags just a few feet away, annoyed with the sound of laughter because all he wanted to do was sulk in his misery.

Pope chuckled at that, turning back to the pair of brothers.

“Besides that, it was good work today. We got a lot on shit on Gomez and tomorrow’s gonna be the day we get his ass. For real this time.”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Santi.” Will exhaled, looking up at Pope with a tired expression, bags under his eyes and blonde hair a ruffled mess. He slapped the blade against his palm once more, feeling pessimistic from the mishap that happened earlier today and not having much confidence in Popes plans for tomorrow. Shit never went according to plan with them, should’ve learned that from the last time.

Pope just nodded at that with an understanding expression, knowing that was a conversation best left unopened. He looked back up at Will, “Get some sleep. The both of you.”

He turned with a lingering look to Will, then glanced at Benny before fully turning around. He started towards the sleeping bags where Frank was already passed out with his hat over his eyes, giving Will and Ben the space they needed to have whatever discussion they needed to have, always unable to show vulnerability around anyone but themselves.

A few beats of silence passed besides the crackling of the dimming fire, Benny anticipating whatever advice Will obviously had for him. He wasn’t clueless, knew Pope and Frank only left so him and Will could have some sort of heart to heart and so that Will could share his perspicacious advice and wisdom. Honestly, Ben wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear it. There was no advice for a man who didn’t even know to use it, especially one it would hold no real value to. Besides, Benny really didn’t want hear his brothers advice on relationships.

Benny glanced at his brother, who just stared into the fire with a dull gaze.

“So what? Gonna give me some relationship advice now? You’re a little late, bud.” Benny grumbled with that southern accent of his you loved so much, the flames flickering in the cool warmth of his eyes as he leaned back against the bumpy tree trunk with a heavy sigh.

Will cracked a small smile at that, shaking his head as he looked to his left at his stone faced brother.

“Nah, man. Nothin’ I say is gonna make it any better.” Will mumbled, turning his head to look at the empty darkness in the trees where you had disappeared into, licking his chapped lips.

“But whatever you did, bro, she’s pissed. You gotta handle that.” Will exhaled, looking back at the side of Ben’s face where sweat had beaded alongside his hairline.

Benny side eyed his brother as Will patted his shoulder encouragingly, getting up with a tired grunt and putting the knife in his pocket.

Benny looked up at him, his skin hot from the fire and his heart beating steadily in his ears. He gave a stubborn shrug of his shoulder in response, an ache shooting down his left arm at the movement.

“She can be pissed all she want. I ain’t runnin’ after her every time there’s a stick up her ass.” Benny said stubbornly; but even he knew that was bullshit. Benny would follow you anywhere and has, for reasons less than this. He just couldn’t help but think you were being completely unreasonable about the whole situation; expecting him to chase you down like a dog, kneel at your feet and beg for your royal pardon and make him atone for his sins. But it pissed him off even more because he would, if that’s what it took to hear your voice again, to be able to look into your eyes again and feel your hands on his. He’d kiss your shoes and lick the dirt off of them in that’s what it took, beg for your hand and never stop spewing apologies. All you had to do was ask.

But no, you just treated him like he was the worst person you’d ever met, avoided him like he was a parasite leaching off your love and he couldn’t fucking stand it. He was more than that, you were more than that. Your anger chipped away at his pride like a brick hammer second by second, and he hated that sick feeling twisting in his gut that made him feel lightheaded.

And Will knew it just as much Benny did, which is why he couldn’t help but smirk knowingly at that, looking back at his brother with a cocky little smile that rubbed Ben the wrong way.

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Ben stared at his brothers back as he walked away into the shadow, Will’s words lingering in his head because he knew his brother, especially him, wouldn’t believe Benny’s bull shit if he handed it to him.

Benny rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek and clenched his jaw, looking back down at the fire as his neck tensed with irritation. He didn’t want to be the one to reconcile things, too stubborn and prideful and ignorant to his own error. He was still pissed at you for reasons unknown, one part of him frustrated with your silence but the other part aching to reach out to you despite his own bull-headedness. He hoped you’d appear from the tree line and curl up next to him with an apology on your lips, wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his shoulder and fix his broken world. But no, he knew that wouldn’t happen from his spot glued to the dirty ground, alone by the camp fire spitting out ash like it was yelling at him.

He knew what he had to do, just wished he hadn’t.

The lake was beautiful, bathed in the silver light of the moon with the stars reflecting in the black water like a kaleidoscope of gems. They stared back up at you, twinkling in your eyes and you couldn’t help but be in awe of it.

It was a large clearing inside the valley of a mountain, hidden away like it’s beauty was almost too much for Mother Earth to find. You couldn’t see how far back it went, only the black tree line that blurred with the edge of the water quite a ways away from the shoreline you stood at. The water was calm and still, so different from your racing heart and shaky hands. It was cooler here, cooler in the dark as the gentle breeze swept through your cheeks and tingled your neck.

The air smelt of lavender and dirt, earthy and natural, and you inhaled a big breath through your nose as the scent calmed you. Purple flowers littered the shoreline, tall and vibrant with stones hidden along the outskirts. You could hear the buzz of crickets in the tall grass, see the bright yellow dots floating along the air like the fireflies were beckoning you into the water.

It had been beautiful when you discovered it a day prior, when the sun was shining down on the blue water and the trees reflected in the horizon, birds dancing in the sky. But, here, now, nightfall was a whole different experience entirely. You felt like you had been pulled straight into movie with the way a light sheet of mist covered the ground and overlapped your boots, cascading along the surface of the lake.

You sighed happily, a smile making its way onto your face as you realized this was exactly what you had needed. The stress in your body began to fade as your skin thrummed, eager to finally go in the water and feel it’s soothing waves wash over you, wash over your mind and clear the muddled thoughts of Ben Miller from the crevices of your brain. He haunted your thoughts too often, had burrowed himself inside your heart and mind like a virus.

Your skin felt itchy and hot from the humidity of the forest as you quietly walked to the edge of the water, not even a soft wave crashing into your boots as you stared down at your murky reflection through the mist, the croak of frog sounding from somewhere around you.

Your hair was frizzy, tied back in a loose bun that morning that had fallen apart during the day, dirt and sweat smeared across your cheeks and neck and your lips cracked and dry. Your eyes were dull and your lips were pulled into a frown, a faint scratch on your collarbone from when a branch had nipped you. You were only joking when you said it, but you looked a mess.

You frowned even harder at that, disappointed with your appearance and how manic you looked, all because of a person who had all this power over you without even knowing.

You took a step back at the thought, not seeing the point in wasting anymore time as you managed to find a seat on a rock and slip off your combat boots. Your body was sore for some reason, and upon taking off your socks and standing up to take off your thick black pants, you noticed the faint yellow color of bruises dusted along your thighs and knees. You knew they had to have been from you being stationed on a tree top for hours, staring out your scope with it pointed right at Gomez, just in case he did anything you didn’t like; having to stay perfectly still.

Gomez, yet another crime boss in the middle of a lawless jungle terrorizing innocent people. You and your team had been tracking him for a while, even had one failed bust way back when. But tomorrow, tomorrow you were going to finally take him down after a long three day reconnaissance mission. But now, now you were here, standing in front of this beautiful lake with your clothes in a pile next to you. You didn’t have the time to think about tomorrow because then you couldn’t focus on the now.

The soft wind felt so good on your bare skin, running through your hair you had let down and caressing your flesh with a gentle hand. For the first time that day you felt content, bathed in the glow of the moonlight as it shined down on your naked form, littered with dirt and cuts and sweat.

You tried hard to push Benny into the back of your mind as you took gentle steps towards the water, leaving your negative thoughts in the dirt. As you reached the shoreline, skin dotted with goosebumps, you tentatively dipping your foot in as a chill swept through your skin at the cold sensation. The cold against the hotness of your skin felt like a much needed smack to your nervous system.

You took a calming breath, ignoring the sting of the cold water as you walked further into the black lagoon, your legs and thighs and hips being enveloped by the mist and welcomed in by the still waters, until you were waist deep and your toes were digging into the gray sand underneath the water. A shiver prickled your sweaty skin as a tickling sensation ran up your spine.

You felt weightless, floating in air as your muscles relaxed like melting candle wax, the water swishing around your arms in soft waves as you softly moved them around you, feeling the lightness slip through your fingers. You closed your eyes, basking in the coolness of the water as a peaceful silence buzzed in your ears. The breeze ran through you and chilled you to the bone, but the cold felt nice against your buzzing skin, gave you something to think about other than Benny.

You walked a little further in until the tops of your breasts were floating in the water, the anxiety you had melting away as you dipped your head back in the water, letting the droplets slide down your forehead as you lifted your head back up. You couldn’t help another shiver as the water poured down your back and shoulders, trickling back into the lake. You felt cleaner already, could almost feel the sweat and dirt on your skin evaporating as the memory of that day washed away into the lake.

However, as you stared at the water around you, you couldn’t help the longing that pulled at your heart at the thought of sharing this experience with the one person you wanted so badly; have his strong arms wrapped around as you splashed in the water, stare at the moon nestled between two mountain peaks with your head on his shoulder and love swelling in your chests.

You could feel yourself frowning again at the thought, your eyes beginning to blur with tears as your emotions finally overwhelmed you. The thought of him dying, actually leaving you alone, ash in a vase… it had your stomach in knots as hot tears starting running down your cheeks.

You brought a hand out of the water and wiped away the tears falling, the droplets splattering into the water with the action. You couldn’t help but feel silly for crying over something that didn’t happen, but you couldn’t even fathom the thought of Benny dying, and all the stress from that day had finally dawned on you in the moment you had no more distractions from it. Your chest burned and your nose was starting to become sniffly, lips trembling as you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle the sob that shook your shoulders.

You closed your eyes and tried to take a calming breath, eyelashes wet against your cheeks as you felt tears slipping down your neck. You loved him so much, put his life higher than yours and cherished him more than he knew. But he was so fucking reckless, always trying to one-up Will or prove himself to his friends like he needed to prove to them he belonged. Even in those underground fights of his you’d always be anxious when he’d come back home with a broken nose or busted lip, standing on the sidelines and flinching every time he got knocked down. His pain brought you pain, and you just wished he’d realize that, take precautions, just be fucking careful.

You sniffled some more as your tears died down, hugging yourself as you opened your eyes again and stared at the moon, praying to whoever was up there they could watch over your boy, please please please let him be okay.

You felt the water moving behind you all of sudden, your body stiffening in high alert as the small waves smacked into your back. You turned your head ever so slightly, listening for anything.

Then, you heard the deep breath of someone a couple feet behind you, exhaustive and oh so familiar. Your chest almost burst, stomach falling at the realization of who it was.

“Can you look at me, please?”

Your eyes widened at the soft voice of Ben Miller behind you, gentle like he was trying not to scare away a baby deer, but still scratchy from his deep voice and accent. You couldn’t believe he had followed you out here, cornered you in the water like you were one of his boxing mates, leaving you no where to go but to him.

Your eyes flickered around the water like the waves held the answers you seek, hoping they’d pull you under the surface and bury you in the ground until you were hidden from his sight completely.

You sniffled as quietly as you could, subtly wiping away the last of your tears to gain your composure back, thankful the lake made it look like water cascading down your cheeks. You didn’t want Ben to know you’d been crying, knowing it would only make him feel bad and make him less prone to take you seriously.

You angled your head so he could hear you clearly, but you didn’t dare turn around even if your heart beat faster at hearing his so close behind.

“Please just go away, Benny. I don’t wanna talk to you right now.” You said quietly into the air, knowing your voice would crack if you spoke any louder. The buzzing of crickets chirped around you, the light fog slowly moving past your shoulders. You could feel your eyes stinging again at the presence of him, your arms wrapped around your chest to comfort yourself as another breeze had your skin prickling. You tried hard not to cry, a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow away.

Benny clenched his jaw at that, not wanting to lose his temper with you as the sweet sound of your voice he’d barely heard all day washed over him and made his skin tingle. He was only a few feet from you, staring into your wet hair despite wanting to come closer, not wanting you to run away from him like you did the last time he approached you. The water was cold, up to his stomach from the height difference between you, but if this is what it was going to take to get your attention.

His heart fluttered for you, yearned to wrap around you, his stomach in knots at the sound of your scratchy voice. He knew that voice, knew it all too well and knew you better than you thought. His hands itched to bring you into his chest, wrap his arms around you and shield you from the cold, surround you in his love and concern and finally let himself breath again. His lungs felt muffled, like water was clogging his chest and filling in the space there.

He clenched his hand, itching to touch you.

“Will you just stop that shit, already? Why are you crying?” Benny had to stop himself from scoffing at that; fuck no he wasn’t going to leave. He took a small step forward, furrowing his brows at you as the cool air chilled his bare skin.

You clenched your jaw, feeling that tense feeling in your bones as you suddenly felt too overwhelmed at the situation. You planned for this conversation in the morning, not right now in the middle of the night, in the middle of a lake, in the middle of no where.

“I wasn’t crying.” You sniffled again, tone firmer, but even you heard the crack in your voice that couldn’t convince anybody that that was the truth. You stared at the water, the weightless, joyous feeling you experienced earlier replaced with a dull sorrow… it made the water feel bland and the buzz under your skin turn to fuel for your annoyance. But… you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at the fact Benny had actually managed to approach you. Usually, you were the one having to initiate things, so this was a surprising reprieve.

Benny knew that was an obvious lie, fist clenched as the urge to walk up to you had his arms twitching.

“Come on, don’t lie to me. Can you just turn around, please? I’m fucking begging you here…” Benny sounded borderline desperate, still keeping his voice low as he stared at you in desperation, heart jumping when he saw the slightest movement from you. He really couldn’t fucking stand this, teetering on the edge of confusion and unfamiliarity. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to make you feel better. He felt useless and horrible, just standing there while you obviously cried.

You swallowed thickly, eyes closing in consideration of his plea as another tear managed to fall down your cheek. Benny always knew how to get to you, he really did. It pained you to hear him be so distraught, that your body instinctively tired to turn around and run to him, kiss his cheek and meld into his chest like a vine growing from a root.

You opened your eyes, bright from the moon, then tentatively turned around in the water with your arms crossed over your chest. He couldn’t really see anything anyways. The sound of the water swishing around you sounded dreamy, if only it wasn’t given during the situation.

Benny’s eyes were stuck to you, frantically running over all the skin he could see to make sure you were alright. Your hair was slick down your back, water falling from your shoulders and cascading down the smoothness of your skin. You’re eyes were pink and veiny, cheeks puffy and lips a darker red. He frowned at the idea of you crying, almost reaching out to you but catching himself.

He sighed heavily, “oh, honey…”

You gazed up at him, eyes running over his bare chest, chiseled with muscle and the occasional scar, then to his strong jaw and greasy blonde hair messily slicked back on his head. Your eyes had lingered on the white bandage wrapped his left forearm from the where bullet had shattered his skin there, and you felt your stomach jump and legs go weak. Benjamin looked at you like you were fragile glass, eyes dark and worrying, brows furrowed and lips downturned. The moonlight shined down on him like he was a diamond, bright and tantalizing, and you hated how gorgeous he looked when you were still a little pissed at him.

At the sound of his pitiful voice you felt your eyes burn again, lips frowning as you tried hard not to cry at the very sight of him and that stupid wound, another wave of sadness crashing through you as your chest swelled up and your eyes went blurry. You missed him, had missed his touch, missed his voice, missed his slicked back hair. You couldn’t imagine feeling like this for the rest of your life, which was almost a very real reality.

It was almost like a dam had broke within you as your emotions crashed through you once again, your hand flying to your mouth as a sob wracked through your body and tears rushed down your cheeks.

Benny felt his own flood of emotions as he quickly went towards you, water splashing around you both as he scooped you into his arms and held you tight against him, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your back. He felt your tears run down his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist and burrowed your head into his heart, the warmth of him comforting the entirety of you. You held onto him tight as he murmured words of comfort into your hair, hand rubbing the expanse of your back soothingly.

“Shh, sweetheart, shh. It’s okay, baby. Just breathe for me…” His deep voice rumbled against you, a low and comforting thrum that managed to calm your hiccuping breaths, the sound of his beating heart and the vibration of his voice against you like medicine for your soul.

You took slow deep breaths in, adjusting your head so your cheek laid on his chest and you could feel the cool breeze on your warm face. Your eyes were still closed, sore from crying as you sniffled some more. You tightened your hold around Benny, unable to stop yourself from acting out on the giddy feelings he gave you, like his bear hugs alone made flowers blossom in your chest and made your lungs feel like they would burst into daisies.

Benny squeezed you back despite the sharp ache in his arm, laying his chin on your head as he felt your breaths stop shuddering, whispering the occasional shh as he resumed rubbing the skin on your back like he was petting velvet. He felt sick to his stomach that you were in so much distress, heart beating quickly as worry kept pumping out of every artery.

He didn’t want to confront you yet; not even giving a damn to if you were in this much pain about it. He just held you and you let him, feeling refreshed and warm and like you were coming back home after a long vacation from it.

The water trickled around you melodically, and the sound of it felt nice against your pounding ears. A few beats of comforting silence passed as bugs chirped and wind whistled before you found your voice again.

“Please don’t die…”

Benny heard your scratchy voice croak out something tiredly, your breath hitting his tan skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at you.

“What’chu say, baby?” He asked, feeling yourself curl into him tighter than you were before, snuggling your head into his chest. He let you, arms still tight around you.

You sniffled some more, opening your eyes and staring out at the water as words just left your mouth before you could think.

“Earlier today… you got shot. You could’ve died and you didn’t even care and what was I supposed to do—“

Benny could feel your shoulders start to shake again, feeling more confused than ever as he interrupted your oncoming sobs, shhing you and rubbing your back some more just as you liked.

“Hey, it’s okay, honey. It’s alright now, shhh.” He had a confused look on his face as he thought about your words; thinking about earlier when he got shot, thinking about how you started acting funny after that, thinking about how much of a god damn idiot he was for not realizing it before. He clenched his jaw and shook his head at himself, holding you tighter against him like you’d fall out from under him if he didn’t. He was so fucking stupid, his chest wringing in pain at the thought of what he had done.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby… you know that ain’t never gonna happen.” He mumbled, voice thick with remorse.

You cried softly a little while longer, until your throat ached and your eyes swelled. You took a hand and shakily wiped away your snot and tears, almost humiliated with yourself that this interaction had gone exactly like you didn’t want it to.

You found yourself calming down again though, really this time, as you picked your head up from under Benny and took your arms out from around him. Your bare breasts were smushed up against him, but this wasn’t a situation where either one of you needed to acknowledge it, far worse things lingering on both your minds.

Benny let you separate from him, his arms dropping down to your waist as he stared down at you curiously. He felt terrible for what had happened, knowing now why you acted the way you did. At times, Benny forgets his life is just as meaningful to other people like it was to him, forgets that he has someone who cares for his well-being and someone who loves him fully. He wasn’t used to being the priority all the time, hence he always carried this reckless attitude with him because if he died, at least it was only him who would. He didn’t even think about seeing if you were okay after it happened, assuming he was okay and that meant you were too. He felt like he had just crushed the world in his hands on behalf of your pain, genuine guilt swirling in his tummy as his sad eyes ran over your tear-ridden face.

You sniffled some more as you leaned back to look at him, your eyes flickering to his arm at the bandage he wasn’t supposed to get wet. You felt lighter again after crying it all out, like the blanket had been pulled off you and you were ready to get out of bed. You knew he felt guilty, seeing it dawn on his eyes as he looked you, felt in his hands glued to your waist like the water was going to carry you away.

You took your hands out of the water and brought them up to cradle Benny’s face, the water sliding down his neck and chest and making his skin shudder from the coolness of it.

“You were stupid. You could’ve died, thank god you didn’t but what if you had? I would be alone, you would’ve left me alone. I can’t be without you. You can’t ever die on me, Benjamin, I mean it.” Your voice was soft with urgency, staring into his eyes and making him look down at you as you spoke. He could hear the pain behind every word and closed his eyes to calm himself down, wanting to hug you again and soak up all your pain for himself if he held you tight enough. He hung onto your every word, taking a small step closer to you as the consequence of what’d he done stared into his face.

“You have to be more careful, even if you think you don’t have to be. You have to be careful for yourself, for me, for us, for the guys. You have no idea how scary it was seeing you fall to the ground like that and not being able to run over and make sure you were okay. I felt like… I felt like the whole world had just caved in on me and-and… just don’t ever do that shit again, okay?” You gently squeezed his cheeks for emphasis, your voice raw from all the crying you’d done. You looked deep into his eyes, flickering between the two, before you felt his hands come out of the water and cradle your face, his hands much bigger on your cheeks that they covered your jaw.

He brought himself to you, your hands slipping down to his chest as he looked down at you with a somber expression.

“Hey, hey, you listen to me. I will never leave you, woman. I’ll always come back to you, when have I never? Don’t you know after 2 years that you got me already? I couldn’t die if I wanted, you fucking own me. If I died and left that behind I’d be the stupidest motherfucker I’ve ever met.” His accent bled into your skin like sweet honey, thick with emotion but still trying to make you smile for him. You could hear the earnestness in his soft tone as he stared down at you with those fierce blue eyes of his, bright and dark and full of love.

You felt relief at his words, melting against him with tired limbs. You were glad you had gotten that off your chest, feeling reassured. Benny got even closer to you, his head just above yours that you had to look up at him to see him.

“I’m sorry, baby. You know that, right? I love you. Man, I love you so fucking much…” He rasped out, gently squeezing your cheeks underneath his warm palms as he spoke, his hot breath hitting your nose as you felt your heart flutter like a petal in the breeze; happy and weightless, bound by nothing but love and direction.

You felt another tear fall down your cheek, a small smile stretching across your pink lips as you picked your hands up and wrapped them around Benny’s neck, bringing him down until his forehead touched yours. You couldn’t describe the happiness you felt at that, his big hands sliding down your wet skin to wrap around your waist again, pressing you against his naked body with ease.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry for being such a bitch.” You laughed gently, the sound twinkling in Benny’s ears as a smile cracked on his own lips.

He had his eyes closed against you, nose bumping yours as the feel of your warmth surrounded him. He could feel a familiar spark stirring in his belly as you breathed against him, bare chest against his and your arms around his neck.

“I love you…” He murmured huskily, giving your nose a small peck, then your cheek, until his head was resting in the crook of your neck, rocking you against him slowly as the pair of you stood in the lake in a romantic embrace.

You couldn’t help but smile widely at that, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter until you were so close to him neither one of you could tell where his heart started and yours ended, interlocked as one.

It was silent for a while besides the sounds of nature and trees around you, the water still once more as neither one of you wanted to move away, content in each others arms, skin on skin and heart to heart as your face was laid on his broad shoulder, eyes closed as you pet the nape of his neck.

Feeling him against you after so long without him felt bizarre and needed, your nerves on high alert as your skin purred. You felt happy again after a long day of not feeling anything, and you couldn’t be more grateful that Benny was here with you, in your arms and holding you like you did him. Of course, there was always that possibility that one day he wouldn’t be, but for now you were satisfied with what you had, happy with the outcome of the now as you stroked the back of his neck and latched onto him. The combination of his breath against your cold neck and his fingertips doodling on the small of your back had your body tingling pleasurably, both of you sensing the heavy shift in the air.

You squeezed Benny a little harder, breasts pressing into him as your lips brushed against his neck, his hands digging into your flesh as he inhaled heavily. You felt electricity spark in the air as the two of started to get antsy, hands itching to explore more of each others skin and feel the energy thrive under your fingertips.

His hands squeezed your hips under the water as you slowly moved your hand down to his shoulder, igniting a trail of goosebumps that sent a pleasurable spark straight down to Benny’s cock. He swallowed thickly, breathing heavier against you in soft pants.

You both could feel the excited thrumming of your hearts in your chests, hands eager to touch as they moved from your hips to your waist, from his neck to his shoulders. The air felt hot and humid as you breathed each others air, skin buzzing and tingling with unforeseen desire.

Benny gulped, licking his lips as he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you out off the water slightly as he pressed his lips into your ear. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, burrowing your cheek into his as he spoke, your breath just has heavy his as it brushed past his ear.

“You want it?” He breathed against you hot and heavy, the feel of his semi-hard cock rocking into your hip as your pussy tightened around nothing, slick with want underneath the water and begging to be filled by him already.

Your hands explored his chest and arms hungrily, nodding your head with a simple, “mm-hmm.” Unable to speak words as the thought of his hard body against yours had your mind fogging with salacious need.

He clenched his jaw at that, sliding his arms down your body until they slipped under the water, gripping your thighs and easily wrapping them around his narrow waist. You tightened your legs around him, a hand coming up to clench onto his hair as he brought a hand up to lay flat against your stomach. The water splashed around you at the motion, but Benny didn’t care about the cold droplets splashing onto his warm skin as he brought his lips to your ear again.

You bit your lip, eyes closed in ecstasy from his skin on yours alone, your bare pussy rubbing up against his happy trail just beneath his belly button, his cock running up against your inner thigh, taunting your wet hole like it knew it belonged there. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, your thighs tense as your clit throbbed almost painfully, sending distress signals to the rest of your sensitive body.

“You want my cock inside you, baby? Hmm?” He rubbed his nose on your neck, hand sliding up your stomach until it was grabbing your right tit, pushing it and massaging it like it was cookie dough in his big hand. He always loved playing with your tits, mesmerized by the softness of it.

You gasped softly at the sensation, your body highly sensitive as your lower regions basically ached for him, your clit pulsing as it rubbed against his stomach with every little movement. You instinctively took your hand out from around his neck, your hand sliding to cover his much bigger one that molded your right breast, encouraging him to squeeze it harder as pleasure jolted through your stomach at the sting of it.

Benny loved the weight of your breast in his hand, picking his head up and looking at your face right next to his. You had your eyes closed and lips parted slightly, gripping onto him like he was your lifeline. He felt hot and needy, feeling your pussy lips rub right above his thick cock, your legs tight around him as you clenched around nothing, craving him just as much as he craved you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” He rasped out with that fucking accent of his, eyes heavy with want as he breathed hotly against your cheek, watching for every little movement of pleasure that crossed your face and enjoying being the cause of it. You let out another small whimper, and he felt it run through his skin like a current. He always got off on the pleasure he gave you, and the fact that he was barely doing anything to you yet just showed how needy you were for him, just as he was for you.

You dumbly nodded your head, lost in the feeling of him as you held on tightly to the back of his hand, almost guiding the motion of it as he rubbed your breast in circles.

“Hold on a sec…” He muttered huskily, putting his hand back down to hold your thigh against him. You could’ve pouted at the loss of him, stuck in a daze already, feeling the water swish around you as he turned his body around with you attached to it, walking forward until you felt a hard, cold sensation dig into the expanse of your back.

Your eyes opened groggily as you breathed heavily, tightening your thighs around Ben’s waist and pushing his cock harder against you in desperation.

You could only assume he had leveraged you between himself and one of the rocks along the water, feeling the wet cold of it poking into your skin and making you shiver. Your arms ran over his broad chest, water sliding down his skin and back into its origin as you leaned back against the rock to look at him fully, staring up at him with those pretty eyes that were practically begging him to do something to you.

He was big and tall, all muscle and man as he looked down at you with hungry blue eyes and a heaving chest, cast in the moons shadow as water softly dropped from the ends of his blonde hair onto his shoulders. The silver mist circled around you both as the wind whistled between you, the trees rustling above you. He was so handsome and pretty, so everything and most definitely all yours. You could feel another jolt of excitement shoot through your nerves like a wildfire at the sight of him, tracing your fingertips against his warm skin.

Benny looked down at your provocative eyes, dark with lust as your thighs pushed him further into you like a magnet to its match, his hands going above your head and trapping you between his forearms as he braced himself on the rock and leaned down towards you, smelling grass and lavender on your skin.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders as you were shroud in the darkness of his shadow, his head covering the view of the moon as he leaned down towards you with a predatory gaze.

“You love me?” He said against your lips when your eyes began to close at the erotica of it all, eager to feel his lips on you, his tongue on yours, his thick cock buried deep inside you. Your pussy couldn’t help but want the same thing, throbbing almost sufferingly in longing for the stretch of him. You almost whined against him at the feeling, frustrated and desperate to feel something, your impatience always such a nuisance.

“You know I do, Benny…” You whispered back as he stared down at your mouth when you spoke, your hands gliding up to his shoulders as he licked his lips.

He felt satisfaction tingle down his spine at the want in your voice, cracked and needy just as he liked it. Your hands gripped at him as your thighs squeezed around his hips, trying to push him harder against you. He brought a hand down from the rock, wrapping it around your jaw and forcing you to look up at him.

You didn’t fight it, enjoying his dominance a little more than you’d admit, feeling any fight you might’ve had in you dwindle into nothing as you looked up at him with slanted eyes and parted lips, bewitching him even further as he glanced down at your parted mouth.

“You my girl?” He hummed against you, his hooded eyes looking over your face as he made you look at him, fingers digging into your cheeks. His voice was low and gravelly with a dash of a southerners charm, making your pussy pulse fervently for something, anything. Benny’s accent always had this hold over you, especially when he sounded like that. Your skin crawled with arousal, nodding your head once more to appease him as the need to satisfy him overcame your need for words.

He smirked at that, taking a step closer to you as he finally leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, adjusting your head for you and turning it upwards towards him. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as your eyes closed, your hands flying up to his hair and pulling at the golden strands. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, knowing his was too.

He groaned hotly into your mouth at the sharp sting in his head. sucking your tongue between his lips as you let out another whimper. He took his hand off from your jaw and slid it down your body, his rough hand grazing over your perked nipple and making you jolt against him. You felt him smile a little at that, his hand continuing down but making sure to feel every pore and inch of your skin as it did.

You found yourself following his lips when he would move a little too far back for your liking, your hands pushing his head down into yours as you breathed in his air, his mouth hot and wet against yours as your tongue played with his, not caring for decorum as you moaned against him once more. The kiss was messy and hot, all swollen lips and tongue like they’d been separated for a millennia, reacquainting with one an other as a small trail of spit slid down your chin. Benny and you both liked it that way, aroused by the depravity of it all.

He slid his hand under the water, his knuckles grazing your inner thigh as his fingers eagerly found the space between your thighs, your lips slick and smooth as he pushed two of his fingers through until they were enveloped in the warm slick of you, moving in and out of your hole as you stuttered against his lips with a shaky gasp. He wished he could hear that familiar squelch he would if you were on his bed, legs spread and soaking his sheets.

For now, this would have to do as the water smacked around his moving arm, your head thrown back against the hardness of the rock from the much needed intrusion as you cried into the air louder than necessary. Your nails scratched down to his shoulders, toes curling behind his back as your body arched up into him. Your body felt weightless and heavy all at once, stuck between a rock and a hard place as you gasped for air, the drawl of his long fingers inside of your most sensitive place sending pleasurable sparks throughout your body.

Benny didn’t stop to stare at you like he usually would, too pent up and horny that he just kept moving his lips down to your wet neck when you separated form him, tasting salt as he licked the droplets off your skin. He wanted no space between the two of you, wanted you against him and wanted to taste your skin, gone far too long without that luxury. As he fucked his fingers into you, knowing you could really only fit two, he felt your soft walls clamp around his knuckles as he stroked every ridge he felt with his fingertips, memorizing each one he counted as he sucked into your skin.

“Oh, fuck… Benny…” You whined as he took his other hand and gripped your breast, licking down your collarbone and arching down, putting your hard nipple into his warm mouth and licking it with his tongue. One hand was on the rock as the other was in his hair again, holding his head against your tit as he sucked on it, his eyes closed as he massaged the piece of skin where his mouth didn’t reach. He moaned against it, loving the taste of you against him, his teeth nibbling into your areola as you gasped at the sting of it.

His fingers stayed as deep as they could go inside of you, never quite pulling out before Benny would thrust them back in, pushing into your upper wall and pressing down on that one spot that had your limbs stiffening and your eyes welling up with tears. You felt so good, feeling your whole body light up like a firefly from the pleasure he gave you, ringing through your body and pulsing at your core. It almost hurt feeling so good, the small groans Ben let out as he sucked on your nipple doing nothing but making it worse for you.

You couldn’t stop the moans that rang out from your mouth, shrill and never ending because of the overstimulation of pleasure Benny was giving you, from your sore nipple his hot tongue played with to your throbbing pussy gradually reaching its climax. It was a wonderful combination you hadn’t expected to ruin you so quickly. But there you were, whining like a bitch as your hands clutched his hair, eliciting another deep groan from Benny that had your whole right side shaking with painful elation.

You felt his rough fingers slide in and out of you, coaxing you to cum as your toes curled behind his back and your eyes blurred with tears. Your pelvis felt so tight, bunched up in a knot the longer Benny stroked your insides like he was writing a message on your walls only he would know.

“Ohhh, Benny… feels so good, please, please, please… aghhhh…” You gasped out as your stomach tightened even more, his fingers moving quicker inside you in response to your high pitched pleas. He could feel his own pleasure from you stirring his cock even harder, the sound of your moans and breathy gasps making his spine tingle and his balls tighten. He just wished he had you in his bed, where he could see your cream ring around his fingers and cock as they slammed into your gaping hole over and over and over until you begged him to slow down.

He picked his head back up from your bruised nipple, bringing his lips to your ear in a hot whisper, “Come on, baby, cum for me. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl, come on…”

Just as soon as he said that you felt that knot in your stomach snap like a cord, your mouth flying open in a silent scream as your eyes closed, thighs tensing as wetness gushed out of your hole and all over his hand, blending into the water around you.

You breathed heavily from the throbbing in your lower half, your muscles melting against Benny like warm syrup. He kissed your cheek softly, lovingly, giving you a minute to calm down from your high as he gently pulled his fingers out from you and brought his hand to your side, massaging the skin there. He cuddled his head into your neck, his chest against yours as a nice breeze blew around you; it felt refreshing against your hot skin as your vagina throbbed and your thighs trembled in the after shock of your orgasm.

You loosely wrapped your arms around Ben as you breathed heavily, your heart pounding in your ears. You enjoyed having him against you, comforted by his closeness instead of overwhelmed by it, holding him close as you caught your breath. Your cheeks were hot and your thighs tense still, but you could still feel Benny’s hard dick poking into you under the water, and you wished so badly to see it like you had many times before, see the pink head swollen with need as precum beaded out of the tip, then you’d lick it up as it drizzled down to his heavy balls. You felt another wave of arousal quickly stir in your tummy again at the imagery, tightening your hold on him.

“You okay, honey? You ready for me now?” He spoke softly into your ear, caressing your sides as he waited for your consent. He was so painfully hard; seeing you get so riled up was always all he needed.

Your throat was dry as you swallowed, thighs tightening around him to beckon him forward. He didn’t fight it, falling right into you and clenching his jaw at the feeling of your pussy rubbing up against the base of his strong cock.

“Just fuck me already…” You mewled, wet and clenching all over again at the muscle memory of how good he felt inside you.

Benny didn’t even answer, reaching down and grabbing himself from under the water. He was hot and heavy in his hand, guiding himself to your entrance and pushing past the stickiness of your folds. He clenched his jaw and groaned at the feeling of his tip prodding at your tight entrance, eager to push in and slam into your warmth, give you both what you’ve been yearning for.

You gripped his shoulders as you felt his thickness push into you, a sharp cry ringing out at the stretch of him. Benny bit into your neck, muscles flexing as he picked his arm back up from the water once he was inside you, moaning quietly at the feel of your tight wet walls squeezing around him.

“Fuck…” He groaned into your skin, pulling back out despite your walls squeezing him in, then sliding back inside as an attempt to loosen you up a little more for him.

“Oh my god…” You breathed out wistfully, tremors of indescribable pleasure coursing through you at the feel of his cock moving inside of you, back and forth inside of your tight hole that cried for him. You stared into the sky absentmindedly, unable to breath as he rocked a little harder inside you, one hand next to your head to stabilize himself against the rock and the other gripping your forearm as he hid his head inside your neck, panting against you.

He soon developed a rhythm, the water smacking into your skin as his hips went back and forth, his cock bullying it’s way inside your dripping cunt as he mumbled obscenities into your ear. He was lost in his own pleasure, slamming into your soaked pussy as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Fuck, baby. I’d never leave you… could never leave this good pussy…” He grunted into your ear, his lips brushing against it as you basically sobbed from the intensity of his girth slamming in and out of your hungry pussy. Your arms clutched around him as you jolted against the rock from the force of his hips slamming into you, moans cracked from every movement that had your lungs shaking.

You moaned and cried, shrill and unashamed into the night as he fucked you, fucked you against a rock with his grunts and groans hot against your skin. You felt so beyond good and filled, your pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep him inside your forever, which you know you did. He was so big, so long, his balls slapping into your ass and that vein that ran along the underside of his cock rubbing against your walls.

Your tits bounced against him as he pushed into you, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you that had you keening for him.

“Fuck, Benny… you feel so good, baby…” You whined in his ear as he brought his hands down and gripped your thighs, pushing you hard against the rock so he could really pound into you, the waves smacking in between your stomachs.

“Yeah? My cock feel that good, baby?” He teased, biting the skin of your neck as you let out a sharp whine, throwing your head back at a particularly hard thrust that had your thighs tensing and toes curling in on themselves. You almost went cross-eyed, staring into the stars as you felt your orgasm approaching once more, your skin buzzing and your throat so so dry as you gasped for breath. All you could do was breath in Benny’s scent and air, and it intoxicated you, made you clench around him harder.

“Yessss, It feels… feels so good…” You babbled as he pressed your thighs up a little higher, feeling his balls tightening the more you clenched around the length of him. His skin felt hot, cut up from your nails as you scratched at him, blonde hair a ruffled mess. He still couldn’t quite grasp the situation, how quickly things seemed to have unfolded between you. He was just glad it was over, but the sharp pain in his arm was a dull reminder of his truth; that he had fucked up but now he was making up for it. He really couldn’t even think, moaning into your neck as pleasure sparked down his spine like fireworks, his stomach tightening as he knew he only had a short while left before he’d bust inside you.

“I’m gonna-gonna cum inside that pussy, baby. You want that don’t you? Yeah, fuck, I know you fucking do…” He grunted into your ear, pulling all the way out until the tip of him was at the edge of your entrance, then slamming back in until he was buried to the hilt. You almost screamed at that, moaning so loud you swore birds flew from a tree in the distance. You were always able to take all of him, from his tip down to the base until he was balls deep inside your sweet pussy he loved so much. There was no fucking way he was ever going to leave this pussy, not today, not tomorrow, not until someone tore him away if they even could.

“Yes, yes, I want it, please, please, please…” You pleaded desperately, knowing it wasn’t long before you’d cum all over him once again. He groaned against you, big hands digging into the plush of your thighs as he quickened his pace, brows furrowed as he concentrated on getting you both to the place you needed so badly to be.

Then, with no warning, you suddenly felt the dam in your tummy break as your orgasm flooded around Benny’s cock from where he was nestled deep inside you, releasing a long moan as your back arched into his and your sore nipple rubbed against his skin. You panted, feeling spent and completely overstimulated as your thighs twitched and body slumped against him.

He came with a hot groan a short moment after, encouraged by the tightness your pussy gave him as you creamed around his length for the second time that night. His cum shot up into you and it made you hiss at the tingle it gave your sensitive legs.

He fell limp against you, breathing hard as he rested his sweaty head on your shoulder, the water lukewarm against your pruned skin as you held him against you, petting his hair as your thighs dropped down lower on his waist. You both could feel exhaustion taking over, but at the same time you both needed to just feel each other once again.

A few peaceful moments passed after your orgasms while the pair of you caught your breaths, racing hearts dying down to a calming thrum as the cold evening air cooled down your hot skin. Your thighs felt sore and achey, back probably bruised from the sharp corners of the rock you’d rubbed against. The space between your legs still throbbed, and when Benny slowly slipped out of you you couldn’t help but feel empty from the lack of him, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling running through your core that missed the feel of him.

You could hear the buzzing of flies and the chirp of crickets ring through the air, the moon bright and daunting in the sky as you stared up at it. You gently smiled as Benny gave your neck a tender kiss, stroking his back as he settled his hands on your waist once more.

You held onto him tight as he cleared his throat, his eyes heavy and his body satisfied and spent. His arm ached like a motherfucker, a thin patch of pink peeking through the soaked bandage but he didn’t care. If anything, every time he would look at the scar there he would always think about this moment, how beautiful you looked in the moonlight, remember your moans and the way you felt around him, remember that there was someone out there who really loved him like he deserved. He was grateful for you, loved you more than you knew. He couldn’t believe that you ever thought different.

You sighed blissfully, gently reminding Benny that the two of you needed to head back, not wanting him to feel rushed. He just nodded, but didn’t let go of you, still hugging you to him like you were the ghost of someone he once loved. You didn’t complain, just hugged him back because you needed this just as much as he did, needed to feel his heart beat against yours and feel his breath wash over your shoulder. You smiled at that, closing your eyes and resting your head against his shoulder as he did you, feeling content as another cool breeze wrapped around your molded forms.

You shivered against him, but he just held you tighter, his heart swarming with his love for you as he vowed to never worry you like that again.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. and always remember that you’re loved and important <3

[lotus02lavish]

some angst of breakup Headcanons with SWK, MK and Mayor from LMK? GN Reader btw. i just need some angst.

[Pain shall be fed into the beating heart] 💥

【If we ever broke up, I'd be sad. 💔】

{Sun Wukong, Mk, and Mayor breakup with GN! Reader}

➳ Lego Monkie kid (LMK) // Headcanons // Seperated // Angst! ✍🏻

──･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

"You can love them, forgive them, want good things for them ... but still move on without them." - Mandy Hale.

Sun Wukong

The realization about a mortal human being and the immortal monkey king put into a loving relationship would not work.

Sun Wukong could give you his peaches of immortality to accompany him until the end of time. Except the horror that if you live forever, everyone and everything around you will move on. Somethings will die and forgotten without you. No peaches for you, hun.

Sun Wukong does not allowed to let anyone notice you as his lover, he just want to protect you from anyone that cause harm. Which makes you believe he is embarrassed to have you.

Sun Wukong is lacking the ability to explain of how he truly feeling towards you. From time to time again to have communication problems and abuse that cannot be solved.

In Sun Wukong's opinion, love is just another useless emotion to express that lead to heartbreak and disappointment. He is not ready to handle any of those qualities.

In conclusion, Sun Wukong is unexpectedly certain to break up with you, just to save you from himself. He is arrogant and a trickster is known to everyone who has heard of or had the chance to meet the legendary Monkey King.

"Eternal life can bring eternal suffering, I don't want you to feel the same way as me."

The fact that Sun Wukong has said his goodbyes to you and gone from your sight, the good thing is glad to know that you have great life and bright future ahead from destiny than his. The bad thing is, he will miss you deeply more than you ever know.

────･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together." - Marilyn Monroe.

MK

At first, Mk does not understand why you would choose someone like him to be your boyfriend, and he felt that not asking about it was better. He always thinking that he does not deserve your love.

Mk ponders about you cherish them because they are a powerful hero, and everything else within them has no importance. That is why the noodle boy worried that one day they would accidentally use their unnatural monkey magic skills to hurting you, and afraid they might fail to save you from danger.

Mk is often excusing himself with his training, delivering noodles, saving the world/universe, and joining his friends to avoid you.

Mk repeatedly forgets the important events, such as your birthday, the dating anniversary day, the national holidays, and meeting with your friends or family. Heis busy to handle with the fate of being heroic rest on his shoulders, and gaining more trauma through the rest of his journey.

One time, Mk send one of their clone to accompany you in the entire day. Later, the copy of them bluntly told you that they (Original self) actually felt forced in love and does not feel the same way as you anymore.

You have grown tired of him and finally choose to breakup for the best, which Mk had expected and planned this all along.

"I'm very sorry! You deserve someone else better than me."

Though still feeling awkward, you and Mk agree to became friends once again. Furthermore, both of you always ignoring the questions of "That's your ex?"

──･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

"Sometimes the only way to let go is to love someone enough to want the best for him or her, even if that means not being together." - Anonymous

The Mayor

After years of dating, there is nothing special happening between the two of you. No happiness and no pleasure, just empty.

Oh, how unfortunate you do not know so much about him, even his real name is remain unknown. The Mayor is most likely to kept horrifying secrets and plans to himself from you.

Sadly, whenever the Mayor is near you, he did not have a smile on his face. Only emotionless can be seen in your eyes. Revealing his true colors.

The Mayor would rather focus on granting his Lady's requests than to spend all of his time with you.

It is a ridiculous suspicion that the Mayor is cheating on you simply because he worships The Lady Bone Demon as his only goddess until the bitter end.

At long last, you decided to breakup with the cold-hearted and odd man, his response is none other than a giggle and does not mind.

"You see, dear?" Mayor spoke up as he turn around, "letting someone go is actually easier than we thought."

At that exact moment, the Mayor show his silly toothy smile to you for one last time before he disappeared. Leaving you heartbroken and wish him for the best to accomplish his duty.

──･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

True Colors - SLAVES

"Wait, did you ever take a moment just to think

About anyone, anyone other than yourself?!

Give me back the love I wasted now

Cold, one day it's gonna hit you, you're alone

I won't be there, won't be there

It's cruel to turn around

Give me back the love I wasted now."

[astarions-darling]

Your Eyes Can Be So Cruel

Raphael x GN!Reader I hate how there is no cutscene whether you win or lose against Raphael. Anyway, this is just a little drabble for if you lose (part of it was inspired by Labyrinth and I've borrowed some dialogue and altered it a bit) no real warnings but he is a Villain™

“And now down here comes the claw.”

You stares at the devil, his face twisted in glee as he stands above you. Lying on your stomach, you try to push yourself up on your elbows even though every muscle in your body screams in protest. Everything aches. Your skin is scorched and bleeding but the little strength you have left is used to sit up, your legs splayed to one as a hand stay firmly planted on the cold marble ground. Exhausted and bone-weary you sigh. It had been a long battle—a battle that has now been lost.

“What a clever mouse you thought you were,” says Raphael as his body shifts, the human disguise returning—not a hair out of place as he smooths down the front of his doublet. How you despise it when he appears so, and you feels he knows this. It makes him too soft and appealing, trustworthy. It’s harder to remember the devil he is with those warm eyes and soft lips. And those lips are dangerous, for his honeyed words spill so effortlessly from them and it’s all too easy to believe them. “But this is my house you’ve been scurrying around in and I’m afraid you aren’t leaving with my cheese. In fact, you will not be leaving at all.”

“Please, Raphael, I need the hammer! A deal—“

His face contorts, the unbridled rage from earlier returning, how it twists his handsome face. “No deals! I’ve been more than generous up until now.”

“Generous?” You can barely speak through a bloodied lip but you manage it. There is still the desire to fight burning low in your belly. You will not lie down like some obedient dog waiting for its master's forgiveness. Your words come out in a hiss between your teeth. “What have you done that’s generous?”

“Everything!” he roars, his eyes burning like the hells. You know his grip on control can only be held for so long, you feel the power radiating off of him. “Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that I help you with your tentacle problem and I did. You demanded that I translate your little vampling’s scars. I did. I have offered numerous times to help you. I gave you an easy and painless solution, and yet you decide to come into my home and steal from me—destroying my house in the process." He sucks in a shuddering breath through his nose, eyes hard as he stares down his nose at you. "I have not crushed you like the ungrateful vermin you are. Isn’t that generous?”

“Please, let my friends go.” There is only desperation now and you are begging. It hurts you, more than the pain inflicted against you from his earlier wrath.

“Oh, I shall let them go,” The sudden change in his voice, from sneering rage to eerie calm is more terrifying than anything else. You feels your stomach turn to knots. “Even better, I'll return them to their masters.” There is something pressing against your sides and then suddenly your body is hoisted up. You can't move your body, arms pinned to your side. The cambion slithers up behind you silently before his hand is under your chin, forcing you to look at your fallen friends before you. Your back is pressed against his and your body yearns to fall against it, you are grateful that you are frozen in place and can't submit to the whims of your weak mortal flesh.

Raphael's other hand extends before you and you watch his long fingers snap, fire and magic uncoiling from their tips. There is nothing you can do but watch, horrified, as Karlach disappears in a flurry of ash. You had promised Karlach that she would be free. You had promised.

“Zariel will be happy to have our dear Karlach back.” The words are felt against your neck and they make you shudder. His fingers click again and you watch as Shadowheart disappears as well. “I hear Shar can be quite unforgiving but I’m sure the girl will survive.” You know what is next and your eyes land on Astarion as he lies crumpled and bleeding on the floor, his pale hand outstretched toward you. “And our little vampling—“

“Don’t!” you beg. You try to break free of his hold but the pain is insurmountable when you attempt it. “Please, don’t!”

A slight squeeze at your throat. “Perhaps this can be a valuable lesson.”

The third snap of his fingers rings in your ears, the smell burning your nostrils as the vampire disappears in a cloud of ash. You know you’ll never see him again, knows that he will die. There is a yearning chasm deep in your chest as your despair eats away at you. Astarion had escaped once, you tell yourself…maybe he will escape again. Maybe they all will. But you have little hope, in fact, you have none. Your tired eyes fall on Hope, her body lifeless and face blank.

“How sad it is for our adventurer when Hope is gone.” Raphael sighs, his face now coming to rest next yours. His voice is low and tender, and his cheek is pressed against yours, how it burns your skin. “Luckily for you, my little mouse, your master will be much more forgiving than those of your rabble." The spells suddenly ends and you collapse to the ground, limbs smaching against the hard floor as tears fall down your grimy cheeks. The devil circles you slowly, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous room, until he is standing before you.

Your glance up at him, and how you wish to fall into the blackness that lingers behind your eyes. His sneering face regards you. "Yes, I have been more than generous with you. But I can be cruel." The only sound is your laboured breathing as you scowl at the devil. His lips twitch into a smile. "Now kneel.”

[queenlucythevaliant]

make your choice

Digory didn’t think much on making choices. The whole world would be over when his mother died anyhow.

Of course, this didn’t keep him from being curious or adventurous. It was exciting to meet new people, exciting to go exploring and to speculate about whatever mischief his Uncle Andrew was up to. Being a lively young boy was perhaps the best distraction from being a boy about to lose his mother.

Going after Polly was so obviously right that it might as well not have been a choice at all. What else could he do? It was easy to be righteous in the face of an evil old magician who said things like "Ours is a high and lonely destiny."

Yet once they were there in that rich, in-between place, with all the worlds there were splayed out before them— ((Make your choice, adventurous stranger)) Well. What sort of lively young boy would he be if he turned back now?

Digory could feel the bell’s magic ((strike the bell and bide the danger)) beginning to work on him. There was no use in resisting. He felt tendrils of magic sinking deep beneath his skin, laying claim to any free will he’d ever had. He said as much to Polly, but she wasn’t listening.

Polly said ((or wonder till it drives you mad)) that he looked exactly like his uncle when he said that.

Jadis’s whole world had ended. Everyone had died, and she’d just gone to sleep. She might have stayed sleeping forever if he hadn’t woken her. Sitting outside his mother’s sickroom, Digory wondered ((what would have followed if you had)) if that was really so shocking. Hadn’t he been preparing for just such an end? Were Charn and Mabel Kirke so different?

Narnia was not an end. It was a beginning.

And face to face with the Lion, Digory was forced to admit that the bell had not been magic. Nothing had caused him to strike it. Make your choice, the writing had said. Digory had chosen. 

I’ve spoiled everything. There’s no chance of getting anything for mother now.

The enormous Lion asked him, "Son of Adam, are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done?" and Digory sputtered his maybes.

"I asked, are you ready?" the Lion said again.

At that very moment, an ultimatum flashed through Digory’s mind. If I salvage your beginning, will you prevent my end? If make amends, will you save my mother? He thought of refusing, of holding his choice hostage until his future was secure. Could the Lion be bargained with? Could Digory twist his arm, as he'd twisted Polly's?

But what Digory said was, "Yes."

Jadis conjured such lovely visions of the future. His mother's face would lose its gray sheen and she would say, Why, I'm beginning to feel stronger. There would be no more morphia, no more of the terrible drawn look about her when she slept. She would rise from her sickbed, vibrant and whole ((Come in by the gold gates or not at all)) rise and walk to the door and fling it open and then Digory would go running into her arms. 

He gasped as though he'd been mortally wounded. Perhaps he had been in a way. After all, had the gate not said ((take my fruit for others or forbear))? 

Jadis ((for those who steal and those who climb my wall)) called Digory the Lion's slave. Years later, he would think back over all that those words implied. The Witch seemed to think that Digory had no will, if he was willing to subordinate himself to Aslan.

But was it not Aslan who made Digory realize his own culpability ((shall find their heart's desire and find despair)), and in the same breath gave him a way to repair it? Had not Aslan given his will back to him?

And at the foot of the tree, Aslan gave Digory his future back as well. 

He was old, but now he is young again, watching as the stars fall headlong across the black of the world-that-was. The world is ending at last, but Digory does not fear such things any longer.

[skxrbrand]

Prev / 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 - 𝐈𝐈𝐈

"Now?"

"No. They've only just arrived. Be patient!" The Trickster of Tzeentch hissed to the servants he was assigned, watching from the lip of the Black Pit. His master's grand plan, of which he was afforded a key place as Unleasher of the project constructed on the Changer's orders, was commencing.

The Changeling could see it from here-- the great red river of ruin Skarbrand and his pet god were carving through the land. Rare were the times Tzeentch directly commanded his Trickster, but this would be one such occasion and all could see the merits of it.

" That's going to take eons to rebuild. So many hopes, dreams, lies-- captured and made solid." The Horror groused, twirling his Trickster's staff in his hands. Behind him, pink and blue horrors capered.

" Now?" One ask, impatient, literally vibrating with it.

"No, not now!" The taller Daemon hissed at it, for what must've been the hundredth time. A loud clatter caught their attention-- the Impossible Fortress had fallen. The Maze Thralls were out in full frenzied force. Tzeentch slithered from the wounds wrought in the walls of his home to face his attackers.

"....Now?" The Horror asked again, hopeful.

"Wait. Wait..." The Changeling watched the Fused God and his own size one another up. Then they pounced, and he turned to his fellow Horrors. "Now!"

The incantation began. And something rose from the center of the Black Pit...

---

Tzeentch rarely left the Hidden Library, secreted at the heart of the Impossible Fortress, itself situated in the nigh-impassable Maze of Crystals. All the gods had dozens and dozens of battle legends to their names; times when they were forced to intervene personally and duel a force greater than any of their daemons. But as he watched the two gods size each other up, Skarbrand could recall no such tales about Tzeentch.

He was not a god of warriors. The Changer was patron to revolutionaries, politicians, magic users, and mutants. Battle was not in his portfolio.

And yet none could deny how he held his own against Malal-Khade, a combination of magic, strength, duplicity, and agility making for a formidable enemy. Just watching the clash had become dangerous, as Tzeentch rained down magic in wanton quantities: storms of shredding wind and hails of blazing wyrdflame. Malal-Khade shook these attacks off well enough, but Skarbrand and his daemons were just that: daemons. Daemons and the regretful mortals who had followed them into the mouth of hell itself to bear witness to two of it's Fell rulers dueling to the death.

" We should leave." Kha'xanzyr hissed to Skarbrand among the carnage. The Reaper snarled and shot him a look. " You would pass up watching the Changer die, Architect?"

" When he dies, this realm will unravel. And we shall perish alongside him. Tzeentch is no match for my Patron."

As Kha'xanzyr said this, Malal-Khade struck with his pilfered blade. He pushed the weapon into the serpentine guts of the great avian-marine god, wrenching a horrid sound from the faces on his chest. Tzeentch responded by lurching forward with his tentacles, squeezing and choking Malal-Khade about the throne, but the War God roared and lit up his skin with black lightning. It singed across the Change-Lords body, the God's flesh running like tallow as he shrieked and pulled away. With each hit he took, the Realm of Tzeentch trembled, the pain of the Changer trembling through it.

Skarbrand saw reason then and there, though he allowed himself a final look at the Supreme Lord of Change, crossed and pierced with wounds, dripping his arcane ichor. "We leave." He agreed, looking at Kha'xanzyr and Khazaan, who nodded and shouted the order. Skarbrand's army pulled back, abandoning the Maze Crazed to their own insane devices, reticent of the world itself cracking beneath their hooves.

If Malal-Khade noticed Skarbrand's retreat, he said nothing. His own forces fought on, until they were ground to blood and bones beneath the relentless onslaught of Tzeentch's ravening hordes. Tzeentch himself was no easy score, but Malal-Khade was the Firstling and the Misbegotten-- the Firstborn and the Feared. He had stumbled and Tzeentch had disappeared into flame at the moment, reappearing behind the challenger. But Malal-Khade had predicted this, spinning on his hooves and wrenching his warped blade upwards with quicksilver perfection and brutal strength. The blade sliced through Tzeentch's chest-face, then bisected his beak-mouth, severing no few tentacles in it's wake.

The Great Lord of Change, each eye blown wide, lurched and choked, spewing arcane rich blood from both mouths. Malal-Khade watched him die with cool, cruel satisfaction.

"Iͥ s͛hͪoͦuͧldͩ hͪaͣvͮeͤ s͛leͤw yoͦuͧ whͪeͤn Iͥ hͪaͣdͩ ᴛⷮhͪeͤ oͦррoͦrͬᴛⷮuͧniͥᴛⷮy." The Windlord cursed.

"𝐀𝐄. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄. 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒, 𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑, 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘. 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄." The younger god growled, watching Tzeentch collapse and quite literally shatter to pieces among the remains of his labyrinth and fortress. Malal-Khade basked in his victory, in the destruction he had wrought. His army was gone, killed to a daemon and a man, but it had been a worth trade to destroy one of the four. He looked at the blade in his hands-- warped and twisted beyond use. Extending an arm, Malal-Khade went to discard to weapon, but found his fists tight and unwilling to drop it.

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆?" Malal bullied his way to the fore of the joining, hissing at his other-self.

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄? 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃. 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒. 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄."

"𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃! 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐃-𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐍, 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐄. 𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐈𝐓, 𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐓!" Malal argued back. "𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎."

"𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐔𝐒." Khade responded. They must've looked quite mad then, arguing with themselves. They must've fit in quite well with the rest of the daemons there, who saw them. " 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓. 𝐊𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓."

"𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 ��𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒! 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐒." Malal snarled and the joined form agitated.

"𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑."

"𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍? 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐔𝐒. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒! 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄, 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆!" Another ripple. The Gods bickered and bickered. They argued and fought about who was next on their list to be slain. They argued so fervently that they did not see that Changer was not so dead.

That killing him was never going to be so simple.

---

Millenniums had passed since Tzeentch had been reduced to Fractals. He remembered it still-- Khorne, Nurgle, and Slaanesh heaving him off of the Endless Mountains after an expertly laid trap. It wasn't one of his finest moments...but unlike then, this shattering was quite purposeful. Another step, as always, in the Great Scheme.

For the Changer was not as dead as the two bickering gods might've hoped. Oh, Khorne's blade with it's vehemence against his very being would take time to repair from, but he would. He would come back, more or less the same, but the same could not be said of these fools. All around him, the Changer could feel the minute consequences of his Labyrinth being shattered. The Realms were drifting, the winds were rising to a tempest in the mortal world, and countless realities had risen with each swing of Malal-Khade sword against the Crystal Maze. Possibility, potentialities, alternative worlds-- all unleashed and so haphazardly.

But he would investigate those later, when he had proper eyes and body to do such with. Right now, he could only see from his realm; a million eyes ensconced in the very earth and sky, spying and prying. And what he saw pleased him greatly.

His project, completed, striding over the realms to deal with this interloper. Tzeentch hadn't had an allusions about how he would fair against the kin of Khorne, let alone two. But his sentinel, his weapon.

His Collar of Khade was a different story entirely. It had been fitted with the Rage Pox, the roiling red liquid sloshing around in vials on it's frame like obscene growths. It had been stolen from Nurgle's lands at great pains, the machine further scored with runes of domination. But there was something Tzeentch hadn't known-- that those runes had been tampered with, sabotaged by a servant of Khade and one of his own feathered brood...

---

Malal-Khade hadn't seen the giant skeletal beast of metal that had approached the aftermath of the battle. Due their own lack of oversight or perhaps the lingering will of the slain Tzeentch, they hadn't heard it or sensed it, not until it was upon them. With metal fists forged by daemon-smiths, it pummeled the injured god with one hand and wrenched the wrap blade from his grip with the other. Off it went flying, too far to reach. Malal-Khade made to defend, but the Collar of Khade lunged and undid itself. Like a straight-jacket of divine metal, it caged the Fused God within itself and the runes of domination blazed to life.

Malal-Khade screamed, feeling the acid of control bending and corroding his will. But he was two gods, not one, and Malal was a horrid thing that should not have been. In that battle of wills, the runes had failed; burned themselves out and left an exhausted hybrid in it's wake.

But if anyone had contingencies, it was Tzeentch, and into the body of the joint god, the Rage Pox drained. It had killed Slaanesh's spawn, which Malal was, but Khade was the God of Unmaking and the pox was a thing of magic. And so when Malal-Khade fell, he was not stricken with death.

"нuͧs͛hͪ liͥᴛⷮᴛⷮleͤ вaͣвy dͩoͦn'́ᴛⷮ s͛aͣy aͣ woͦrͬdͩ,̓ ᴛⷮcͨhͪaͣrͬ'́s͛ goͦiͥng ᴛⷮoͦ mͫaͣᴋⷦeͤ yoͦuͧ aͣ mͫoͦcͨᴋⷦiͥng вiͥrͬdͩ~." Tzeentch crooned the song as Malal-Khade tried, and failed, to keep his eyes open.

It had been a risky gambit, but one that would pay off in the future...

[seramilla]

So this is based on an idea I had for a little joke in a hell raised Emily au that I will probably never have time to write. But Lillith calls Sera mom because when Lillith was first created and wandering alone the first angel she ran into was Sera and assumed she was her creator mom or something. (Sera wasn’t even involved in making Lillith she was working on the flowers and no told her they were going to turn the humans on today) Lillith figures out Sera isn't her mother and things move on but she ever since jokely called Sera mom since and joked about her being a bad mother for not taking care of her Sera never liked these jokes. Anyway the point is in the fic when Sera who needs to baby Emily somewhere safe goes to hell to eg Lucifer and Lillith to take Emily in Lillith does her normal joke of calling Sera mom and Sera doesn't react which to the joke which is how the two know whatever happened is big. Also like a 3 year old (at least by her appearance) Charlie gets excited cause she thinks she has a grandmother and gets disappointed.

Turn the humans on today. I love that. 😂😂

Even though neither of them had truly understood the mortal concept of motherhood before -- Lilith had been created from the dust of the Earth, while Sera had been formed out of the ether of Heaven itself -- it was Lilith who had ultimately beaten Sera to the punch. The former First Woman sits in front of her now, with her fallen husband, Lucifer Morningstar, and their firecracker of a toddler, Charlie, who is currently sitting in her mother's lap, playing with a duck toy her father had painstakingly made for her that morning.

Sera sits across from them, almost mirroring their position -- her sister, Emily, the light of her life, and the only true creature to ever bring out Sera's own maternal instinct -- sits on her lap, as well. She is similar in size and age to Charlie, and is reaching out tiny hands and fingers. Either interested in getting to know the princess as a playmate, or wanting to take ownership of the toy she holds in her little hands. Who knows what a child of that age is thinking?

"This situation is ironic, 'Mother'," Lilith tries to tease, but Sera does not return the playful banter. The woman she used to look up to is here on a mission -- a serious one, that risks not only her Heavenly position, but the future of little Emily, as well. She is not here to play old games.

"You're the only person I trust, Lilith," Sera starts, holding Emily closer to her midsection, as she thinks about what she's about to ask her former ward. "Heaven is catching on that I'm about to defect. I can no longer guarantee Emily's safety. If they force me to fall before I've had time to prepare an exit for us, things could become dangerous. They might take her from me. I might never see her again."

"So you want us to take her in, is that it?" Lilith asks, trying to keep her own daughter calm and in control in her own lap, as she tries to get out of her grasp and play with Emily. Eventually, Lilith and Sera just let them both go, and the two girls share the duck toy together easily on the plush carpet at their feet.

Watching the two young ones play together on the carpet, in a way that is completely unnatural for demons and angels in any other context, in any other circumstance, really, Sera begins to sob into her open palms.

"Yes," Sera states, trying hard to catch her breath and calm herself. "Please Lilith...Lucifer! If they take her from me, I'll have nothing left."

"Okay." Lucifer says it first. And with a quick glance from his wife, realizing how serious this is, she takes his hands in hers, and nods in agreement.

"She can stay here, great Mother," Lilith agrees. "Until you can get out. And figure out what to do."

Looking directly at Sera this time, Lucifer adds, "But please be careful, Sera. For her, and for us."

"I will, Lucifer," Sera says, nodding calmly. "Lilith. I promise."

[blue-rose-soul]

Arghg I love your au!

I was wondering how public the knowledge Alastor’s and Lucifer’s relationship would go?

In other posts the other hotel residents find out but I’d imagine Alastor wouldn’t want this to get out as it might not be good for his image (and not wanting someone like Vox finding out). But I also can’t imagine Charlie or Lucifer (or really any of the residents) being all that discreet.

Arghg thank you! Much appreciated!

With Lucifer now a permanent fixture at the hotel and Charlie becoming increasingly involved in the destabilization of Heaven's foundation, the secret does have an expiration date. Particularly once Lucifer himself learns Alastor's his son. I don't think that any of the hotel residents would go spilling it, since they're a pretty tight knit group. So far, only Angel Dust is really shown to have a social life outside of the hotel, and I think he of all people knows how important it is to keep a tight lid on certain family secrets, given he was a gay man in a mafia family in the 40s. Frank might, but he says insane shit all the time. Possibly Adam if he returns as a sinner, and if Vaggie doesn't punch his teeth into the back of his throat first.

I imagine his guilt over not being there for Alastor when he was a kid, the revelation that Alastor nearly died fighting Adam, and Alastor's lingering wound and broken staff would lead Lucifer to be a tad protective. Alastor, on the other hand, would prefer to go about his normal routine as though nothing's changed. Vox is very actively trying to tear down his reputation, so it's more important than ever that Alastor show his face in public so everyone knows he's as strong and dangerous as ever. Lucifer's hovering doesn't help with that. With cocky sinners trying to take their shot, and the Vees scheming, Lucifer only clings tighter, and Alastor fights harder to prove he's unaffected.

I can see either Vox finding out the truth through his stalking, or by making some overt move against Alastor that forces Lucifer to step in to protect him. Either way, once Vox knows, it's only a matter of time before the rest of the Pride Ring does. And the public blows up over it.

Alastor's famous for being the only mortal soul to manifest in hell with such incredible power. Only, he's not a mortal soul after all! He's a royal bastard masquerading as one. No wonder he's helping out at Charlie's stupid hotel. Obviously he has a soft side towards his sister! Suddenly he's not the Radio Demon anymore. He's just the Devil's Bastard.

The carefully cultivated reputation Alastor has built suffers a heavy blow. Although Lucifer is undoubtedly the most powerful being in Hell, the sinners don't have much respect for him as a ruler. They don't so much fear his power as the idea of it, since he hasn't really done much with it in his time as King of Hell. There's no real prestige to be gained from the relation. Plus, a very large part of Alastor's power came from the mystique behind his rise. The reason was so feared was because nobody knew how he was as powerful as he was, and now that there's an explanation, he loses that. Needless to say, he's not holding up so well when the truth comes out to the public. (Cue another dramatic musical monologue.)

Knowing what jerks the people of Hell are, you can imagine the field day the news would have. Lucifer gets ripped apart by Katie Killjoy for being a no-good husband on top of being a no-good king, people are questioning whether Alastor's really as fearsome as he pretends to be, and the Vees are trying to find a way to spin this to their advantage. Lucifer's panicking - it's not like he was embarrassed of Alastor or so he says, but he wanted to be the one to tell Lilith, not have it get back to her like this - and Alastor feels like he's being strangled - by his deal, by the public response, by Charlie and Lucifer. He needs to do something to fix this, but the situation is spiraling ever out of his control.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Oceans of time (part 3)

Laddie asks David how he got turned into a vampire.

----------------------------

Santa Carla, 1987

"That's how you make a vampire, isn't it?" Laddie asked quietly, looking at David. The man nodded.

"Yeah. We couldn't have saved her even if we were there."

"Did you bury her like Lucy?"

"No. We couldn't. I wouldn't."

"Why?"

"She was still my sister. I wouldn't abandon her."

"But if she stayed with you, how did she get blood?"

David grinned. "We decided that for the time being, she could feed from us. Until we had the thing figured out."

"Is that how you got changed?"

"Eventually. She tried to control her thirst, but over time, it became too much. She hadn't even realised that she drank to much until I entered the room."

November, 1897

Mia ignored the cries and ignored the hand, trying to push her away from the vein she was drinking from. She needed it. She needed even more - but this would do for now. She growled when suddenly someone grabbed her, roughly pushing her backwards - crying out when a beam of sunlight hit her arms. As soon as she pulled it back into the shadows, her skin healed.

"David?"

Angrily, he looked at her, helping Dwayne sit up. She had almost completely drained him, her bloodlust taking over.

"Give me your wrist." David grabbed her roughly, taking a knife and cutting the skin open. He forced her wrist against Dwayne's mouth, forcing him to consume the blood. "You could have killed him, Mia!"

"I didn't mean to! I'm - I'm just so hungry..."

David ignored her, making sure that Dwayne was alright. Even though he was definitely weakened due to the lack of blood in his veins, he'd live.

"Are you still hungry?" David's look softened when he looked at the girl. She nodded quietly.

"Take some of mine."

"What if I can't control myself and-"

"I'll be fine. Drink."

Mia did as she was told, greedily taking yet another vein. David felt his blood rush out of his body, and he felt himself getting lightheaded. He noticed how cloudy everything began to feel. "Mia."

She didn't respond, tightening her grip on his wrist. David tried again - but she just wouldn't listen. Nothing he could do could get her away from his blood. "Fuck!" He hissed, realising he had no other choice. He grabbed his sisters' wrist, reopening the wound. If he didn't drink the vampireblood now, he would be a dead man. He didn't want to die. Mia whimpered as he began to drink her blood, finally letting go of his wrist.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, pulling away from him. "I'm sorry!"

Santa Carla, 1987

"Did you then change the others?" Laddie asked.

"Yes. When they came in and saw what had happened, they wanted to become vampires, too."

"What about the vampire that changed her?"

"Remember how I told you this story wasn't a happy one?"

Laddie nodded.

"He's the reason why."

December 1897

With every member of their little family turned, they finally dared to take on the streets. To go outside and hunt. They left their little house at night, enjoying the wonders vampirism brought them.

They marvelled at their ability to read minds. They laughed when they realised they could fly. How they could communicate simply by thinking. All the things their eyes could now see, the things they could hear - even though they had lived in this town for their whole life, it was as if they were discovering a whole new world.

"I didn't give you permission to make more, did I?"

An ice-cold voice echoed from behind them. Mia whimpered. It resonated within her head. The boys turned around, realising that this was the vampire that changed her.

"Holmwood?!"

The man chuckled. "Hello again, David. I told you your sister was in mortal danger, didn't I?"

"What the fuck man, you killed your own fiancee?" Marko looked at the vampire.

"I gave her immortal life. You were the ones to kill her."

"No. That was Max. We didn't touch her," Paul said.

"Mia, come here."

Obediently the girl stepped forwards, toward him. "Sir?"

"Why did you change them?"

"I didn't mean to, it was an accident, " she said quietly, stepping back slightly so she'd feel the comfort of her brothers.

"I should have you killed for disobeying me," Arthur growled, causing Mia to shiver.

"Please don't, it won't happen again, I promise!"

"Mia-" David began, but he was cut off when Arthur gave her another order.

"Come here, childe." He opened his arms, and even though she was terrified, Mia could not disobey his order. Slowly, she stepped into his arms. The boys couldn't do anything but watch. They couldn't fight this vampire, not when he was clearly so much more powerful than them.

Santa Carla, 1987

"How did you get away from that vampire?" Laddie asked, jumping up. "Did you fight? Did you rip his head off?"

"No. Max was the reason we got away."

"Max?" Laddie pulled a face. "What did he do?"

"He staked Arthur."

"But if he was still holding Mia, then -"

"She got staked as well."

December 1897

"Mia, get away from there!" Paul yelled, but it was too late. Max had shot a large, wooden stake right at Arthur's back. It shot through his body, coming out in the front, the tip brutally destroying Mia's upper chest and shoulder. She cried out, stumbling backwards, when another stake hit her - right in the stomach. She whimpered, her hand covering the wound, gasping as she fell to the ground. She was covered in her own blood, taking shallow breaths.

"Shit, Mia!" Dwayne was the first to reach her. He was quick to pull the stake out, quick to try and feed her his blood, but it was of no use. No matter how much he gave, the blood just kept pouring out of her. "David, she's -" Dwayne didn't finish the sentence. David was already there.

"It's cold..." she murmured, hissing quietly as David lifted her up, holding her in his arms. As he held her, he tried his best to keep her comfortable. Marko held her hand, while Paul tried to get a now unconscious Max to them, hoping that his blood could save her.

"I don't want to die," she said quietly, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mia, it's alright," David said, barely louder than a whisper. He knew he couldn't trust his voice right now. "We're here. I've got you."

"I know, love," it was Marko, who spoke.

"You won't leave me?" She asked softly, quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Her eyes closed before she could hear his answer.

"Never."

As snow began to fall, only the panicked screams of the vampire killer were heard, as three very angry vampires chased after him. David stayed behind, holding his sisters cold body close. "I'm sorry, Mia," he said softly. There was nothing he could do now. She was gone.

Santa Carla 1987

"So why did you let Max live?"

"As punishment, he resents vampires."

"I'm sorry about Mia." Laddie said quietly. David nodded.

He hadn't told Laddie the whole truth. Sure, Max being turned was a punishment for the hunter. But that wasn't the only punishment the man faced. The boys had forced him to do one thing, and only if he managed to do that thing would he be set free.

January 1897

"Just kill me, you fuckers!"

Max yelled at them, causing David to chuckle.

"Like you killed our sister? I don't think so. You want to be free? Be released of immortality?"

"Yes! I'd do anything!"

"Good." David nodded as he revealed a coffin filled with ice. Beneath it laid his sister. "If you find a way to bring her back, we will gift you your freedom."

"But she's dead, I can't bring back the death!"

"You will, if you know what's good for you!" David growled, before he slammed the basement door shut, leaving Max alone with his equipment and his one and only task.

Bring back a dead vampire.

[lumenflowered]

[The video attached seems to begin where the previous one left off, albeit more zoomed in than before. It begins with Maria standing in a few inches of seawater, staring up at a god of the ocean. Lugia stares right back at her, clearly curious.

Neither speaks, for a time.

Lugia does first, though her mouth doesn't move. "You... so you have come, after all."

"You... were expecting... me?" Maria's words seem forced. Her hands are folded behind her back, out of Lugia's line of sight. They're shaking a little.

"I anticipated one with the blessing of Ho-oh," Lugia replies, speaking slowly, "or one who could have had mine. But that is now impossible, and instead... here you are."

"That is now..." Maria clears her throat. "Never mind that. Lugia, I... I come with a warning."

"Do you?" Lugia inclines his massive head towards her. "Is it yours, or is it theirs?"

"...Both." Maria inhales sharply. "There is a group of humans that... we strongly believe you may be in danger from."

"I see," says Lugia. "And what would you have me do?"

"Remain as... remain as deep beneath the ocean as you can, until the danger has passed. Until I have—until we have made it pass."

Though it's a little difficult to tell, with Maria's back to the camera, her body language seems to suggest that she is terrified and trying everything she can to suppress that. It's dubious how much it is working, considering the ocean god directly in front of her.

Lugia hums, considering this.

At last, she speaks once more, a single word: "No."

"...I'm afraid I... don't understand," Maria says shakily. "What do you mean by this?"

"I have seen many mortals come and go," Lugia replies. "What makes you think these are a threat to me?"

"They are a threat to Ho-oh, and they thought—"

"What threatens Ho-oh does not necessarily threaten me." Lugia flaps his massive wings, rises a little in the air—Maria takes several small steps back. "I have seen far more than they ever shall. I have humored you thus far, Chosen of Rebirth, but you are trying my patience."

"...I apologize for that," Maria says, though she isn't able to suppress a shudder. "How can I prove to you that they are a threat?"

"Considering," Lugia says, "that you are deeply afraid of me? I wonder if your own shadow wouldn't scare you."

"That—that isn't—this is not about me."

"Excuse me," calls Kuni the Kimono Girl. "If I may, there is very little that seems to scare her—"

"Yet I do?" Lugia seems unimpressed. "I have heard enough. Leave this place. All of you."

"You have to understand," Maria insists. "You have to understand that—I have seen terrible, terrible things done to a god not unlike you before. I-I cannot—not again—how can I make you understand?"

"You cannot. Leave this place, or I will make you."

"...Maria," Zuki calls uncertainly, from somewhere behind the camera, "I think it might be better to regroup—"

"No." Maria stands her ground. "Not when we are already this close. Lugia. You—you have to understand."

"Leave," says Lugia. With a flap of his massive wings, water from around them, below them, above them coalesces into what looks dangerously like an impending attack. "Or prove that you are not afraid of nothing."

With another mighty flap, the attack—a Hydro Pump—is shot toward Maria. She stands her ground.

But someone else, rushing forward into view of the camera—someone wearing mostly brown, but whose hair looks identical in shade to Maria's—tackles her to the ground, out of the way of the blast.

Something glitches, and the video... ends? It wasn't supposed to end there, was it?]