#oh also for the 2 people who are interested in The Caress & The Claw

[aturinfortheworse]

it can be challenging to explain what one likes about a piece of media because once you get past the "good dialogue" and "complex characters" stuff which is often too subjective to be useful, the stuff you're left with is like, well. my two favourite things a character can be are

so driven that it impedes their ability to exist in normal society, and

wet

not wet in a sex way. 'wet' here is almost a variation upon point no. 1 because what i really like is how wetness symbolizes a character's indifference to the material world. took me ages to work that out, btw. but it's like that one Sad Wet Terminator episode of Person of Interest when John is so covered in his own blood that it is dripping off his hands as he holds the gun.

but i mean it doesn't have to be blood. it can be colin firth standing in the pouring rain soaked to the bone in fucking england without even seeming to notice it. it can be someone so sick that their sweat and spit and vomit are mixing together on their face unheeded.

(i'm not gonna say i don't prefer the blood thing tho. i do. i want there to be so much blood that they're slipping in it.)

but yknow when someone asks you what kind of tv you like, saying "I really like it when a character looks like you could wring them dry over a sink" is not normally a great first line to open with

[sparklingsad]

title: out of my mind (part 4)

Characters: baji x reader, toman peeps 🤍

Prompt: you don’t know if you should tell baji you like him because is he even interested in other people?

Summary: here’s what happened while baji sent you home :))

A/n: I originally wanted to post something because of baji’s death :’)) but I accidentally deleted my draft :D i’m sobbing extra hard that day :D AND ALSO SORRY SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT FOR THIS SHORT-ASS CHAPTER DAKFNKSDFNSKDFN I’m so sorry guys I felt like I have had a long writer’s block this week and I have revised this chapter waaay too many times and I think I cannot progress if I don’t stick to this one. Anyway, I promise a longer chapter after this one! I’ve already plotted some of the few things that I wanted to include so I hope it turns out to be better. I also recuperated from the latest episode of tokyo rev though I need more happy baji and happy toman content :’) ily all!

Series List: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

"Chifuyu, make sure to look after Mikey's CB250T while Draken drives back to pick it up. Unless ya want our asses dead by tomorrow," Baji ordered his vice-commander.

"Baji-san, you owe me some peyoung tomorrow for making me wait here," Chifuyu said unamused with his situation.

"Yeah, yeah whatever,"

"Hey y/n, ya ready to go now?"

Before you realize it, you already took a good time staring at his face.

"What? Something wrong with my face? I'm pretty sure I've wiped off all the chocolate from earlier," he said tilting his head a bit before looking into your eyes more intently.

You have never thought to be this disoriented as much in a day.

When you started regaining focus again, he immediately grabbed the helmet hanging by his motorbike and started to placed it on top of your head.

"Wear this for me will ya?" then he flashed you a smile.

You could swear your heart almost froze the moment he closed in to you to assist you from wearing his helmet.

He then started to adjust the straps of the helmet and doing so makes his finger glide across the side of your face-- your cheeks. It could almost feel as if he is caressing your face or wiping off freshly streamed tears.

His finger felt a little rough --calloused. Probably after all the times he spent on dojo in Mikey's house, or because of all the punches he threw during gang fights being in Toman. But it is gentle nonetheless. You could feel his warmth through his fingers and you thought you could probably take in this moment, and you did.

Just as you are getting all comfortable while he helps you adjust your safety wear, you were caught off guard by a furry friend rubbing on your ankle.

"Oh shi--"

Baji who is just about to finish clasping the buckle under your chin was also caught by surprise when you suddenly clutched his hands in yours at the feeling of the feline.

"Wha-. Oh," he looked at you then he noticed the cat that's been rubbing against your ankle.

"Hmm? You scared of a little cat?" he said with a playful tone.

Of course you're scared. Yes they are cute and fluffy but you just hate everything prickly -- injections, needles, cat claws.

While him on the other hand has a soft spot for this furry creature. When he saw the black kitten near your feet, he did not think twice before picking it up, cradling it in his arms, and giving pats and rubs here and there that the kitten seemed to enjoy as it relaxes on his touch.

"See? He's a friend ain't he? " he suddenly shoves the cat near your face and flashed you a generous smile.

Seeing you tense up at his sudden action, he hinted that you were pretty uncomfortable with the little critter so he puts is back down but not without bidding it a little goodbye and a few rubs on its belly.

“Well, shall we go now y/n?”

Just as when you felt that you are going to have a peaceful ride on your way home, it suddenly all flashes to you how being a passenger on a motorbike should be.

“Hold on tight okay, y/n?” He said as he is busy fixing his own helmet before the both of you starts your ride.

“Mikey and Draken will give this ass some beating if I wasn’t able to take ya home safely. We don’t want this pretty face ruined, don’t we?” He said it with a playful and conceited tone as if he knew how much butterflies in your stomach went wild on the sound of those words.

But indeed, he looked pretty — magnificent even.

Beneath the light that the moonlight has been casting upon the two of you, you could perfectly see his silhouette on the ground as the light hits his face and illuminates his amber eyes.

All of these thoughts did nothing better to you as your heartbeat just grew faster and faster as he reminds you that you’ll take off in a while and you slowly cling into his jacket. You made sure not to make that much contact because you’re worried that he can feel how much you’re dead-flustered riding at the back of his bike.

But as if all of the universe has been conspiring against you, the bump on the road that you have passed by completely betrayed you.

In an instant your cheeks and your chest is flat against his back, and your arms are wrapped tightly onto his waist.

He did not say anything but ask if you were okay, but you are sure that his back is being hammered by your racing heartbeat.

—-

After some time, Baji decided to break the ice between the two of you and asked a very inane question.

“Oh, y/n, how are ya and that guy from Mitsuya’s division? He still pining for ya?”

“Wha-? Oh him? Pining my ass,” you scoffed.

“That guy never looked my way again after Mikey and Ken gave him chilling stares for a whole Toman meeting when he asked for my number. He also isn’t my type though, so it’s all good,”

“Oh, so what’s your type like?” He innocently asked.

You wanted to say a million things about the person you like. You like someone who are loyal to their friends, someone who cares about others, someone who’s fun, someone who’s passionate, and gentle, and kind. Honestly you could go on and on, but you know that it could be easily summed up by a word -

“You”

“Hm?” He suddenly looked back at you with your reply.

You were thinking out loud.

“What?” Your reply feigned innocence but your voice is laced with nervousness.

“Ya just said ‘you’,”

“OH WHAT I MEANT WAS, YOU— YOU GO FIRST ‘cause I need time to think of mine!” you said as enthusiastically as you can so that he cannot think more about what you had just blurted out.

“Ah, I see. Hmm lemme think,” he’d gone quiet for a while as he is thinking of a response to your query. But after a while he just gave you a shake of his head.

“No?” You asked him, surprised.

“I just think that I don’t really have a type. I could just judge who I like and who I don’t when I meet ‘em. Not like someone has to be like this, or like that for me to like ‘em. People could just surprise ya, ya know? And they could even be the best person you would ever meet!” You can trace the proudness in his voice.

“How’d that sound, y/n? Sounds pretty smart doesn’t it, huh?” And yes you knew he was proud of his statement, and you could not agree any less.

“Yeah, thinking about how I met Mikey,Ken, and Mitsuya, I pretty sure did not put dumbass, baby, giant, and snitch in my friend wishlist but yeah they are the best,” you said nostalgically as you pondered about three of the most amazing people in your life.

“They sure are,” he reassured your answer as he looked back at you.

—-

From his response, your unsaid feelings have crossed your mind.

You’ve been pining for this guy ever since you’ve seen him back in middle school and Draken had told you to just go for it. He also said that he didn’t specifically have a type didn’t he? Well, you’ll never know unless you say it right? And this could probably be the only time that you can get him alone.

You’ve made up your mind.

—-

“A’right, we’re here! Just 3 houses behind that konbini,” he said as if he was a tour guide and you his guest.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, a bit struggling alighting from his motorbike.

“Thanks so much, Baji! I’ll save you the trouble of letting Ken know I’m home safe,” you muttered as you try to remove his helmet to give it back to him.

“Yeah! It’s nothing! Totally my pleasure to get ya home safe,” he said back.

Just as when you are giving back his helmet you felt your hands touch each other and you immediately pulled back to save yourself for some embarrassment.

But while you’re not in the right state of mind, flustered and feelings all over the place you stopped and said

“Baji, I think I have fallen for you.”

a/n: TYSM GUYS FOR MAKING IT THIS FAR FOR MY FIC. I actually have another idea for a fic i want to start after this one, but uni’s starting pretty soon so I hope I still have time to write. AGAIN AGAIN APOLOGIES FOR THIS V SHORT CHAPTER DAKNFVNK writer’s block reaallly sucks. Please tune in to the following chapters <3

[zafirosreverie]

Hi could I pls get a part 2 to slippery little spider definitely one of my fav Agatha stories x

Sorry it took me so long, dear! But here it is (Please forgive me ;-;)

Slippery little spider (Agatha x Reader) part 2 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit

You swung to dodge a fireball aimed directly at your head, while Peter shot the monster in front of you.

"Dragons, why does it always have to be dragons?!" Thought.

"Hey, Y/N!" you heard Peter from your suit's communicator "Are you okay?"

"As good as I can while fighting a fucking dragon, Parker" you growled

"Yes ... that's what I meant. You seem in a bad mood."

"Did you expect me to smile and sing while I try to avoid being burned alive?" you sighed

"No, but you usually make jokes and you seem more cheerful. In fact, now that I think about it, you seemed upset when you were assigned as my partner on this mission."

You sighed again. It was true, you were quite upset when Strange told you that you should go with Parker, since your powers would be the most useful (useful? Two spiders against a dragon?! Strange needs to stop watching movies). You had objected, but since you couldn't come up with a convincing enough excuse, you had to come anyway.

In your defense, how were you supposed to explain that you had a date? Even more than that, how were you supposed to explain that you had a date, with a villain? EVEN more, with Agatha Harkness of all villains ?! You were sure that Strange would lock you up in a psychiatrist if he found out (that's if Wanda and Monica didn't murder you first).

So here you were, fighting a fucking dragon, with just another spider for reinforcement, and a deep desire to be in a little store in a small town, "saving" hostages and blushing at the flirtation of a certain witch. Too bad we don't always have what we want, right?

Just when you were thinking about it, you felt a strong blow to your back and a strong pressure around your torso. The creature had caught you with one of its claws. Dammit.

"Y/N!!" You heard Peter scream from somewhere behind you.

You gasped when the dragon opened its mouth and pulled you closer to it, ready to eat you. You closed your, resigned. Well, you guessed there were worse ways to die. At least it would be an epic death, not everyone could put "dead in battle against a dragon" as an epitaph.

“Hands off!” Another voice said and when you opened your eyes, you saw a purple smoke surrounding the monster “Take the other spider if you want, dear, but this one’s mine”

You saw how the dragon’s eyes turned purple before it released you, but you were still floating. You turned to see Agatha right behind you. The witch smirked and pulled you closer to her, so that your face was inches from hers.

“I’ve gotta admit that being replaced with a dragon is quite offensive, love” she joked and you couldn’t help but smile

“Sorry, I guess a couple of volunteer hostages aren't as important to Strange as a dragon in the middle of the city” you said

“Strange” she scoffed "I must have guessed. Typical of him ruining my plans before midnight" she sighed and caressed your cheek with a pout

“If your hostages don’t mind, I’m free tomorrow” you whispered, making her chuckle

“I’m sure they won’t” she smirked “Then let me make sure this guy is gone for good” she said and opened a portal under the dragon. You just heard it’s roar before she closed it and that was all. 

“Thank you” you said as she carefully put you on the floor

“Don’t mention it, love, i have a reputation” she winked and you giggled 

“My lips are closed” you promised and she wrapped her arms around your waist

“I have better ideas to make sure they are” she smirked bringing her face close to yours

You smiled and brushed your lips against hers, making her close her eyes. But you had made a promise. So you pushed her away gently, giggling when she frowned. 

“Thank you again for your help, but if you excuse me, I have to go. You see, I have to rescue some hostages tomorrow from the wicked witch of the west” you joked “Have a good night, Ms Harkness” you winked and swung away from there. Leaving a very frustrated Agatha and a very confused Peter behind.

___________

It seemed that the universe (and Strange) didn’t think you deserved a rest. 

It had been a week since the dragon incident and you couldn’t go to that damned store yet! Missions kept coming and they were too close between one and the other, you could barely rest a few hours before they called you back to battle. You were tired and frustrated.

“Focus, Y/N” you heard Wanda’s voice behind you and you rolled your eyes. 

You loved her, you really did! But she was getting more and more annoying as she and Strange unlocked more of her powers. Nowadays, it seemed like the sorcerer wanted the witch to be the one in charge in every single mission. That wasn’t that bad, she cared for all of you and always tried to be the main target so you wouldn’t get hurt. But she also acted like she did all the hard work, leaving the rest of you in the shadows. 

You weren’t sure if it was her fault or Strange’s, giving that he was always praising her and her abilities, but it didn’t matter. You were tired of them all. And to be honest, you couldn’t make the guilt disappear. You felt guilty for leaving Agatha like that. If you had known that you wouldn’t be able to keep your promise, you would have kissed her that night. Hell, you’d probably even do more than just kiss (if she wanted to). 

“Y/N! FOCUS” Wanda yelled again

“Y/L/N” Strange’s voice came behind you. When you turned to him, you saw he was frowning “I asked you to come here to help, but if you’re just going to get in the way, I’ll have to ask you to leave”

That was all. You snapped.

“Get in the way?!” you asked in disbelief “I am the one keeping that thing from destroying the city! Those are MY webs! Those scars on that thing? I made them! I AM THE ONE ACTUALLY FIGHTING WHILE YOU TWO JUST FLY AROUND AND MAKING JOKES WITH EACH OTHER” you yelled “You know what? Fuck you! I’m out!” 

You didn’t even hear their responses as you swung away as quickly as you could. Your vision blurred as tears began to fill your eyes. You knew you screwed up. The sanctuary was your only home and you weren't sure Strange would let you return after speaking to him like that. But you were so tired, both physically and mentally.

You didn't really think about where you were going, but your subconscious seemed to. You sniffed and smiled against your will when you realized you were at the entrance to your little town.

You landed in front of the promised store, which still had the lights on and you could see the people inside talking and laughing and looking so normal. It seems that today was not hostage day.

"Hey" someone said behind you.

"Why do they always have to come from behind?" you thought as you turned around. You smiled when you saw the boy from the other night.

"Hi" you said

"Long time no see you" he joked "We were starting to think that you had changed us for another town"

"Never" laughed "The universe just wouldn't let me come sooner"

"You should have given the middle finger to the universe then" he laughed.

His laughter was contagious and his humor was a nice change from the atmosphere you had shared with your team the last week. You even had a fight with Peter a few days ago.

"I guess the hostages managed to escape on their own, huh?" you joked

"Well, it's easy when your captor can be bribed with chocolates."

Chocolates? Agatha likes chocolates? Interesting. You would save that information for later, perhaps as an apology.

"She looked disappointed when you didn't show up" the boy said suddenly. He gave you a sad smile and you felt guilt work its way back into your stomach.

"I'm sorry" you said

"It's not me who you need to apologize to"

"I know, but it's not like I can call her and apologize. Besides, what am I supposed to say? 'Sorry for not coming to rescue the hostages you kidnapped'?" you sighed.

"Well ... I think I have an idea" he said and you raised an eyebrow.

__________

Of all the things she thought she’d find when she arrived at the store, this wasn’t on the list. To be honest, you didn’t either. 

Agatha blinked when she found you tied up with your own webs in the middle of the store. You looked embarrassed and your face was uncovered, finally giving the witch a chance to see your face. And lord were you beautiful. Too much, if the blush that adorned her cheeks was any indication.

"What's going on?" she asked, walking towards you

"Let's say the hostages decided they wouldn't wait for the villain, so they did your job, love" you winked.

This change of roles felt strange. You never thought you 'd be the one to flirt, or that Agatha would be the one to blush, but here you were, and she was fucking cute when she was nervous.

"My lady" Nick, the boy who had planned everything, came out from behind a shelf and smirked "On behalf of all the town, we offer you this sacrifice as an offer of peace"

Agatha blinked for a second, before letting out a laugh, which was quickly followed by yours and Nick's.

"And I thought I wasn't worth of your time, love" she smiled at you

"Let's just say, I learned that Strange and Maximoff are the ones who are not worth it" you answered

"Strange and Maximoff?" she frowned and crossed her arms "No, wait. Hang on a minute. They are your arch enemies now? I'll scratch their eyes out."

You laughed at that, she looked adorable that jealous.

"They could never replace you" you assured her "So, I hope I am a worthy sacrifice"

"Oh, we'll see, love" she smiled maliciously, sitting on your lap and snaking an arm around your neck to bring your face close to hers "I hope you don't run away this time, you slippery little spider"

She claimed your lips with hers.

You shook your head, brushing your lips with hers. For a moment, Agatha was worried that you would retreat again. When she noticed that your pause was to give her the opportunity to get away, she smiled and finally, did what she had wanted from the first time she saw you.

You ignored the applause and congratulations around you, lost in the sensation of her lips against yours and her hands running down your sides.

"I think we have a winner" you whispered against her mouth when she broke the kiss.

You didn't know if you meant the town's bet, or yourself, but as she leaned in to kiss you again, you decided that you didn't really care.

[enigma-im]

Sucker Punched pt.2

Rating:Explicit Relationship: Alien X Female!Human Warning: Dirty talk, strong language, Alien/human relationship, alien sex

Word Count:4055

Pt. 1

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

We soon part ways as our responsibilities drive us. He to fuck about doing whatever it is he does outside of groping me, I to finish up work before heading back to my place. My small one-bedroom, two-room home. Bigger than most, having the perk of being faculty, but smaller than anything earth could have given me. The large living room is nice to divide the space between the front door and where I sleep. I truly feel for the people who don't have that luxury. It feels too unsafe to be comfortable.

I fiddle about with a quick shower and a change of clothes, completely forgetting about Kurt for the time. It's not till I hear a rather intimidating knock at the door so I remember our plans. Cursing to myself I throw on a shirt before heading into the living room.

He pounds on the door again," For fuck sakes, hold on." I angrily right my clothes, untucking my hair, before grabbing the handle. I thrust the door open, my hair billowing in the breeze. I glare out at the tall buff alien who fills my doorway-perhaps the hallway as well. His teeth are poking through his small smirk, giving him a dorky charm. Kurt eyes me from head to toe, not hiding his appreciations though I lack effort in my outfit.

"Beautiful as ever, though I know you never disappoint," he raises a brow. It's still strange to hear him speak English, though its through a translator. I find I miss the rough tone of his normal language, it never failing to send chills down my spine. Then again, who isn't a sucker for a deep voice?

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I scoff.

"I find the crimson hue of your cheeks to be something, like an incentive really," he tilts forward. The alien towers over me like no other, feeling like he is boxing me in with just his height. I find myself leaning towards him despite his natural intimidation.

"If I knew you were this much of a flirt I would have forgone getting our translators fixed."

"Oh, prefer my other attempts of getting into your pants better?"

"So confident that you could get into my pants? A flirt and cocky, how unattractive."

"the lies you spill from your mouth almost mask the arousal that practically oozes from you when I'm around," he quickly grasps the doorframe as he leans in close," Admit it, love, you want me bad." his proximity short-circuits my brain for a moment, just long enough for him to chuckle. I can smell his musk, it muddling my brain as he presses a gentle, loud kiss to my cheek. I can't help but sigh in defeat, the bastard has me there.

I take a step back from him, his glare following me as I turn towards the kitchen. I stop at the fridge, glancing over at the frowning Kurt still perched at the door.

"Well, come in. I rather not have my coworkers question while a nearly 7ft alien is guarding my doorway," I grin. He huffs, dropping his head with a shake before coming over. He closes the door behind himself, walking towards the couch to plop down. I look through the fridge for literally anything to eat. Never entertaining guests before now seems to have hindered my dinner plans.

I settle on some bullshit microwave dinners, almost mortified in having to do so. While they 'cook' I lean against the counter to watch Kurt. For a moment he looks around the space, not really reacting to anything. Once he grew bored he turns to me. He cocks a brow in question.

"I believe I was promised some wooing," I break the silence.

"Was what I said at the door not enough," he answers. I scoff at his response, turning back to the meals. Perhaps he was all talk and no action. How disappointing, I expected a lot more from him. I won't lie and say he hasn't grown on me, like a tumor. Being a constant thorn in my side has proven fruitful in his quest for my affection, but if he intends to be a stick in the mud then I have to quarrels tossing him to the side.

I barely hear him when he sneaks up behind me, cupping my hips as his groin meets my back. I bite my cheek to not respond, way too curious to see where this is going. I feel his breath on my neck, raising my hairs as he exhales near my ear.

"Since the day we met, I have not stopped thinking about you. You have invaded everything I do. When I sleep, I see your face. I dream of your curves against mine, feel your skin under my lips. Every night I have felt your sweet caress to my cock, on the verge of climax just as I wake. I think I can escape you in my wake but my thoughts only flow for you. I can only ponder how you would taste. Would you be sweet like I imagine, would you cum like how I picture," he licks just behind my ear," are these words good enough for you? I am not a romantic man, but you bring me to my knees and make me wanna do things I never even considered before."

I stutter on a breath, gnawing on my cheek," l-like what?" He grinds into me, pressing his hardening cock against my lower back. He thrills me more as he reaches under my shirt to palm my stomach. I can't bring myself to move, barely making a sound as he licks and nibble. Kurt teases my neck with his tusk before pressing the blunt tips to my skin, dimpling the area enough to wretch a gasp from me.

"I can smell your cunt," he purrs as his hands trail up. His fingertips barely touch my bra when I choke on a inhale. The anticipation of having his large palms on me almost takes my breath away. He chuckles huskily in my ear, rubbing his cheek to mine as he leans over to watch himself. He slowly slides his fingers under my cups, teasing the skin as he engulfs my breast. I'm sure he can feel my heart beating fast against my ribs, thumping loudly near his fingers. He hums as he palms and squeezes me. I sigh, falling against him. My head rests on his shoulder, tilting for his lingering kisses.

We both startle as the microwave beeps. I stand straight, suddenly ripped from the haze of building tension. He freezes as I do, his hands slowly trailing down as he worries about my next reaction. I look up at the meals resting in the finished device. I then look down at my clenched hands, finally noticing the throbbing between my legs and the hardon pressed to my back. I chew my lip in thought, really thinking hard on saying 'forget dinner'.

Before I can overthink this I tear his hands from my shirt and twist in his hold. I look up at his startled face, nearly laughing at his wide-eyed expression. I cast a glance at the tent in his pants, grinning as I meet his eyes. Quickly I leap and grab his horn, jerking him closer to my level with a Cheshire grin.

"Are you going to ravish me like I deserve, I refuse to waste my time with unworthy men," I ask near his lips. He looks a bit dazed as he stares down at my mouth.

"Yes," he answers.

"I demand you take me to my room before I change my mind then. I expect nothing but the best, understood?"

His lips part as he meets my eyes with wonder," Yes, ma'am." Fast as lightning he scoops me up in his strong arms and whisks me away to the bedroom, meals left forgotten.

Kurt attacks my lips while maneuvering in the dark. His hands on my thighs are scorching, also helpful in my grinding against his stomach. I fist his hair, twisting his head to delve my tongue into his mouth. His groans muddle my brain, throwing my thoughts in disarray.

I'm startled when he tilts forward. I panic, grabbing his shoulder tightly as my back suddenly meets the bed. His chuckle against my neck annoys me, taking me away from the lust riddled thinking I was drowning in before. As his tongue slathers up my neck I grab his horn, dragging him up.

"Yes," he asks displeased," do I need to woo you with more words, or am I free to satisfy my curiosity?"

I snort," Curiosity?" His fangs poke through his smile, a purr rolling out between his lips.

"I'm quite interested in seeing if you match the women of my kind," he lowers down to press a teasing kiss to my jaw.

"How about we don't talk about other women while in bed," I pull him back again. His cocky grin drops to another annoyed grimace.

"We can just not talk at all, that seems to be a safe bet," he suggests, wiggling his horn out of my hold. His lips press just above my shirt collar, his teeth dimpling my skin as he nibbles. The tips of his fingers tease around the end of my shirt, trailing his claw along the slightly revealed flesh.

I can hardly think of a snarky response, completely invested in his attentions. His tongue on my neck and his hands palming my hips. My nails dig into his shoulders, scratching down to his elbows.

"Ku-," I'm interrupted by a bell. We both pause in confusion till a loud knocking follows. I sigh, sitting up. Kurt quickly grabs me, keeping me where I am.

"No, ignore it," he growls. He quiets my protests by pulling my hips into his, grinding his hard-on against me. A thrill shoots up my spine, muddling any thoughts of the door.

"Hello," I faintly hear a voice call from outside the room. I freeze again, grabbing at Kurt. He tries to bring my attention back to him, biting at my shoulder.

"Just real quick," I smile apologetically. He answers with a growl, bucking his hips more. Fed up I grab his horn and drag him away. "real quick," I scold. He huffs then sighs before rolling off.

I hop out of bed, a wiggle in my step. I share in Kurt's frustrations, stomping towards the door with frustration. I rip open the door, already fed up with the upcoming conversation.

"Hello," the slim techie from the other day answers. His appearance at my door is startling enough to erase my ire.

"Hey," I respond confused," What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. The update was sent out yesterday and I was hoping to get input on it," he answers.

"Works well enough, I haven't had any issues with it. I have to agree with you though, Kurt has a 'way' with words," I chuckle.

He laughs as well," He was a bit too vulgar for my taste. It brought on a very awkward situation."

As we talk I faintly hear steps behind me. My suspicions are verified when the techie tenses up. He looks over my shoulder, giving an uncomfortable smile.

"Seeso," Kurt growls.

"Ker'chak," Techie answers," How is your translator h-holding up?"

"Good," Kurt sneers," feel free to leave now."

"Kurt," I scold," chill out." Kurt continues sneering at the poor lad, not doing anything to hold back his anger at the man's presence.

"Alright then," Kurt grabs my hips, pulling me to his chest," Seeso I wish to get back to wooing my woman and you standing here is preventing that so I say nicely, piss off." before either one of us can answer Kurt slams the door shut and lifts me off my feet.

"That was rude as hell, you couldn't wait, like, five minutes," I slap his chest.

"I am extremely hard right now so excuse me for being a little impatient," he chuffs. I snort, stretching up to bite his neck. I tighten till he hisses.

"Good things come to those who wait," I press a kiss to my teeth marks.

He groans," And you can't get what you don't take."

Kurt tosses me onto the bed, quickly climbing over me. He doesn't take his time, ripping my shirt off swiftly to lather attention on my breast. His sharp tusk pricks my skin as he sucks on a nipple. I pet his hair back from his face, watching him. His eyes open to meet mine, growling as his swirls his tongue.

"You are quite handsome, I'll admit," I hum. His sudden purr startles me, along with the pinching of his claws on my thighs.

"Well thank you," he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to my chest.

I chuckle at his excitement, fisting his hair before pushing him down my body. He resists a bit to press his lips down a line of my stomach. He crawls off the bed and onto his knee. As he reaches my pants he nuzzles his cheek to my hips. His purrs increase, his hands massaging my thighs.

"Fuck," I groan," stop, it's too cute."

"Cute," he scoffs," No one has ever accused me of being cute." he unbuttons my pants, tugging them down my legs.

"Well you are, so get used to that," I tease. He hums in thought, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"As long as you are the only one saying it then I guess its fine," he mumbles. Before I can tease some more he tugs off my underwear. "Speaking of cute," he smirks. The smug smile makes me roll my eyes, biting off a chuckle.

"Yea, yea," I scoot out of his hold," Get on your back."

"Oh my back," he quirks a brow," now why should I do that?"

"Because I said so," I shrug. From his place on the floor, he rests his chin on the bed, grinning that mischievous smile.

"Since when did you become the boss," he says. I regard him with a teasing smirk. I crawl towards him, grabbing his horn to draw him back.

"Since I decked you in the face, now get on the bed big boy," I press a swift kiss to his lips," I'll make it worth your while."

He hums," When you put it like that." Kurt crawls onto the bed, resting on his back with his hands behind his head. He smirks down at me, tilting his head. "Now what, my sexy female?" I don't answer, instead of crawling up his body. I sit on his upper chest, looking down at him between my knees. I pet at his face as he looks from me to my crotch then back.

"this my prize for following orders? Feels more like a prize for you," he looks back at my crotch, licking his lips despite his words. I pet his bottom lip, pressing my thumb into his mouth. He wastes no time sucking on it.

"What? Don't want my cute pussy on your cute face," I quirk a brow. He nibbles on my thumb before pushing it out of his mouth. He presses one kiss to it then grabs my thighs.

"Well when you put it like that," he chuckles. I yelp when he quickly drags me over his face. Wasting no time delving between my folds with his tongue. At his first taste, he groans loudly, his hips bucking behind me.

"I'll take it you’re a fan," I huff, petting his head.

"I will dine on you every night as long as you stay wet just for me," he growls, licking another stripe. His fingers dig into my skin, showing off his enjoyment. As he laps at me I can't help but grind into him, biting back groans and cries of pleasure. His teeth poking at the cleft of my thighs adds a certain thrill to all this. His alien-ness becoming extremely apparent now. I look down at him between my legs, his eyes closed in pure enjoyment.

I find myself leaning back, holding onto his raised knees. I watch him, enraptured at his monstrous appearance. Moans leave me lips, my insides burning only for him.

"Kurt," I groan," you look so sexy like this." his eyes creak open a moment.

"You should speak for yourself," he hums. My hips grind on his mouth, a cry ripping from my throat.

"I'm close," I lean back up. I grab onto his horns, pulling him into my thrusts. His hands slide from my thighs to my ass, guiding my grinds. As his fingers knead my skin I burst. I shout, throwing my head back as I yell into the room. He purrs under me, lapping up every drop as I cum for him.

I nearly fall into the wall, barely catching myself on my hand. I pant, resting my head onto the cold wall. Catching my breath I look down at Kurt, smiling at his wide grin.

"You look so happy," I mumble. He kisses my mound.

"Of course," he answers. He adjusts me down his chest, sitting up to hold me close. He rubs my back, kissing my lips.

Once I come back to myself I react to his attention. I pull him into a strong kiss, delving my tongue into his mouth as I pull on his hair. His cock pokes excessively against my ass.

"Your turn," I grin. He hums before I push him back onto the bed. I crawl between his legs, grabbing at his pants. The anticipation builds as my curiosity peaks. What could he look like?

At my hesitation, he speaks," You good?" I bite my lip. Instead of answering I tug his pants down. His cock immediately slaps back against his stomach, then bobbing just over it.

His cock is fairly thick, long but his girth is more attention-grabbing. Along his shaft are nubs that really pique my interest. I grab him, huffing at his growl. I thumb the numbs, noticing their firmness. I slide up him, pinching at his spear-like tip.

"Interesting," I mumble to myself.

Kurt's head pops up," What?" his nerves revealed in his tone. I sit down on my stomach between his legs, pumping his cock a few times as I look up at him.

"Don't worry, it's a good interesting. You are fucking lovely," I kiss his shaft. He twitches in my hold, his head falling back as he purrs again. "You are all around the sexiest man I have ever been with," I smile. He groans again, bucking into my hand. I adore his reactions oh so much.

Too eager I wrap my lips around him, sucking on his tip as I jerk him off. His grunts fuel me, sending jolts of pleasure to my crotch. His taste is unlike human men, having a sweetness to it that I wasn't expecting. I choke him down into my mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat. I bob, sucking on his cock with great interest. His noises grow in frequency, making me gain tempo.

As his hips begin to buck into me he lifts me from his cock. "Stop," he groans," stop." I rest my head on his thigh, watching him catch his breath. I trace a vein on his hip, grinning like a fool.

"Did ya like it," I ask. He tilts his head to look at me.

"Don't ask stupid questions and get on my lap," he pants. Instead of straddling him, I crawl up him, lying beside him on my back. He turns towards me confused.

"I want you to be on top," I shrug. He rolls his eyes, turning to crawl on top of me.

"I figured you would want to be on top," he leans down to trail kisses along my neck. I comb my fingers through his hair, my other hand reaching between us.

"Now why would you think that," I grab his girth, jerking him a bit. He doesn't answer, growling with his teeth bared. "Now, enough talking," I turn towards his ear, whispering," I want you inside me." he hisses, his tip prodding between my folds.

He presses in slowly, both of us feeling every thrilling inch. Our sigh of satisfaction when he settles to the hilt is echoing. We give each other a second, not wanting the moment to end so soon.

"Fuck," he pants," you are more perfect than I dreamed." he rolls his hips for emphasis. I hug him close.

"Yea," I huff," you too."

He chuckles," may I ravage you now?"

"Is that what you guys are calling it these days," I snort.

"shut up," he growls before pulling back and bucking forward. I choke on a gasp as he fills me so quickly. He repeats, thrusting hard and fast. His cock is as fulfilling as I hoped, his nubs rubbing splendidly against my walls. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body ever so close. My nails dig into his hard skin, almost piercing it.

He suddenly stills, his breath stuttering. "Maybe you shouldn't have sucked my dick," he laughs.

"Yea," I snort," you promised me a ravaging. we barely even started and you're ready to end it."

"Shut up," he pulls out, unwrapping my arms from around him. I watch him confused, almost disappointed. He slithers down my body between my legs where he presses his two fingers inside me. I sigh, straying off my future disappointment as he begins fingering me.

"stalling, big boy," I laugh. He doesn't answer, leaning down to suck my clit as his fingers glide in and out. His claws rake gently along my walls, tingling me with satisfaction. He rumbles with a purr, nibbling on my clit.

"K-Kurt," I grab his horn," I don't wanna cum on your face again." he withdraws his fingers, licking them clean before crawling back up. I grab his face as he nears, ready to tease him. He beats me to it, cupping his hand over my mouth.

"I underestimated you temptress," he nuzzles my cheek," now let's try this again." he thrusts in again with a strained groan. He bucks quickly, reaching down to rub at my clit to finish me off. The startling amount of pleasure makes me reach out and pull him close.

"Kurt, fuck," I cry out," I take it back, you are doing great." he curls on his next thrust, laughing as he does.

"yea, I'm close too," he kisses my cheek.

We both cry into each other, our hot breaths ghosting over the other's skin. I fall first, unsurprisingly. I clench him everywhere. Locking down on his cock, pulling him close with my arms. I shout out his name, rolling into a cry as he pulls out all of my pleasure.

He falls soon after, bucking wildly before stilling. Something hot leaks inside, pulsing with him. It paints my insides as his whole body tenses then relaxes.

"Bless the heavens," he captures my lips fiercely," and my the heavens bless you."

"That sounds like a great compliment," I kiss him back.

"Highest one I can think of right now," he laughs. He soon pulls out, the feeling of him spilling from inside me makes me shiver. He then rolls over, pulling me along. I rest on his chest, hooking a leg over his hips. He grabs my thigh, petting along it as we settle.

"so," he draws out. I look at him from the corner of my eye.

"so," I answer similarly to him.

"am I a keeper," he cocks a brow.

I hum," not sure yet. You still have to make me breakfast in the morning."

"damn," he looks to the ceiling," I'm a shit cook."

"Shame," I shrug," guess I will have to teach you another thing then."

"Another thing?"

"Don't worry about it," I tease. He turns in my hold, facing me dead on.

"Did you not like how I ravaged you," he asks. I shrug again. He answers with a growl, rolling us so I straddle his lap. He pets along my thighs. "I guess you will have to show me how it's done then," he teases. I lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I guess I will."

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

Finally, Jesus! It took me forever to write this.

Pt. 1

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[spooky-z]

CHP 2 - Funhouse

I've called the movers, called the maids We'll try to exorcise this place Drag my mattress to the yard Crumble, tumble, house of cards

P!NK – Funhouse

××××

« Previous • The Au • Next »

@ozmav​

××××

“Good afternoon, Master Fu.” Marinette greets and bows.

Her mother had raised her very well and thank you.

"Good afternoon, Marinette." The man smiles. "It's good to see you, although I don't think this is an informal visit."

"And you're right." She sits on the mat, Tikki takes the opportunity to escape from the bag.

“We have important information for you.” The kwami says.

Fu's smile becomes smarter.

“I think I'll make some tea to accompany this conversation.

××××

"Interesting." The man mutters, his hands scratching at the gray goatee.

"But you should have brought the book!" Wayzz exclaims.

Marinette knows she shouldn't be annoyed at such a powerful entity, but she can't stop the small fire burning in her chest.

She had already explained it twice. Twice. The reason for not taking Adrien's book and rushing to the Guardian with it, but the little green kwami didn't seem to want to understand.

Well, her parents said age wasn't the same as wisdom. She believed that was the proof of that.

“Wayzz, Marinette has already explained why she didn't do that. Are you even listening to what we're saying?!” Tikki scolds.

He looks at both of them, frowning firmly.

"For all I know, she may well be acting for selfish reasons." Says petulantly. "Not letting the boy she likes in a worse deal with his father."

Marinette's patience breaks.

“Wayzz-“ Master Fu tries, but she cuts the man.

 “I didn't do anything for the supposed boys I like.” Sharp as a scalpel “Have you ever stopped to think that if Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth, he might try to escape after discovering that the book is missing ?!” Growls through gritted teeth.

Wayzz seems skeptical at first, but soon his expression withers to regret.

"I-I"

“Alright, Wayzz. Everyone makes mistakes.” Fu intervenes. “But I really wish I could have seen this book. If it's the book I think of, then it's likely Gabriel also has the peacock's miraculous.” He sighs.

It seemed that things were getting more serious.

Marinette took her backpack off her back, opened it, and pulled out an obviously customized black tablet.

An insignia with two overlapping golden R's graced the cover.

“Here.” She reaches out to the man.

"Marinette thought of everything, Master!" Tikki says excitedly as she flies over their heads.

“And that would be?” The green kwami asks suspiciously.

"... The miraculous grimoire." Fu sighs in surprise as he flips through the virtual pages.

“How did you get this done in such a short time?” Asks to the girl.

"Tim." She says simple.

"Oh, the Red Robin boy." He turns off the tablet. "Tell him I really appreciate that."

Marinette smiles.

"Sure. Now I have to go. A friend of mine awaits me.” She gets up, Tikki goes back to hiding in her bag.

“See you, Master, Wayzz!” She squeaks.

“Marinette, Tikki.” Fu tilts his head in respect.

"Bye, bye." Wayzz.

“Bye guys.” Marinette nods and leaves the massage parlor.

Now she had to run or Kim would kill her.

××××

When she arrives at school, Kim is waiting for her at the entrance. He has two paper bags in his hand, the Dupain-Cheng bakery logo stamped on them.

“Sorry, Kimmy. Tim called me needing my help with something.” She says, her voice coming out slightly unsteady from running the streets of Paris to school.

Kim raises an eyebrow suspiciously. He knew Mari and the Waynes were hiding something from him, but he never forced Marinette to tell because he appreciated their friendship.

And he knew that one hour Marinette would tell him. Then Kim would be the best friend she needed and would wait patiently.

He extends one of the paper bags to the girl and softens the expression.

"All right. At least you arrived with plenty of time to eat.”

Marinette takes the bag, her guilty face melting into a huge smile.

“Thank you, Kimmy! You are the best."

Kim heaves his chest in pride.

"Of course, I am."

He waits until Marinette was by his side to throw his arm over her shoulder, a dangerous smile on his lips. A smile the brunette would recognize even in the dark.

A competitive smile.

"Let's go now. I bet you can't eat everything before the bell rings.”

She narrows her eyes, countering her friend's challenge.

"Well, I bet I can."

Tikki laughs from inside the bag.

She loved when her chosen acted according to her age.

××××

Mari wins the bet, but soon regrets. She can barely breathe under the weight of her stomach.

She almost throws up, but Kim is there to save the day.

Once again.

××××

"... And then Jagged Stone wrote a song in my honor." Lila tells.

She was surrounded by Ms. Bustier's class when Marinette and Kim entered the classroom.

Her nose high, haughty like royalty and the others excited about her story.

Marinette notices that Adrien is sitting in the back row of the right corner, alone. Probably wanting to keep as far away from Italian as possible.

She understands the blonde's behavior.

Lila's manner belied everything she claimed to be.

And as Bruce had once said ‘instinct never fails’.

Her instinct screamed, red everywhere, that the Italian was a problem.

Kim frowned at his best friend, who had frozen in the classroom door.

"MDC?" He whispers and pulls the brunette to their accents.

Marinette blinks, finally coming to herself.

"Sorry, Kimmy." She sighs. "It's just... I don't like her." She mumbles. "She makes goose bumps on the back of my neck."

The boy looks surprised at her. A vivid memory flashing in his mind.

“Really?” She nods and hides her face around his neck. "Wow."

Marinette has always had a kind of seventh sense for bad people. She was a kind child to everyone, but there were people she made a point of being rude to and it never seemed to make sense to her family.

Until one day Marinette had bitten the hand of a Dupain-Cheng neighbor. A nice gentleman who distributed sweets and played with the children in the street.

They were seven when the police showed up at his house dragging him arrested for pedophilia and the only thing Marinette said was "I said he was bad!" before drawing again.

Kim found out some time later (at 9) that the Dupain-Cheng had become suspicious of the man and along with the Wayne, had obtained evidence about him.

He caresses her friend's head. Arms over her shoulder, cuddled up.

“I understand, Mari.” Whispers “To tell the truth, it's kind of unrealistic that Jagged has made a song in her honor that we have never heard. Or her being Ladybug's friend if she has come to Paris recently.”

“Alya believed it. The class is believing it.” Marinette points out “I just hope she only tells fantasy fan stories and don't become a problem for us later.

“If she gets you in trouble, I'll have your back. As I always have.” Kim replies.

“Thank you, Kimmy. Same.” She smiles.

"MDC, I already said ‘Kimmy’ no!"

They did not notice certain Agreste listening to their conversation.

 “So she's a liar, huh.” He whispers to himself and turns his attention back to the class around Lila.

He had managed to return the book to his father's safe without Gabriel knowing about it.

Plagg hadn't been much help, focused on eating his smelly cheeses. The little god had not even tried to check the book to know what it was about.

After Marinette returned it to him, he was left with nothing good to think about Lila Rossi.

Adrien still couldn't believe what she had done and it didn't cross his mind for a second that Marinette was lying about it. As little as he knew the girl, she was fair and honest with everyone.

And on second thought, he doubted his Lady would be best friends with someone so dirty like Lila.

“Adrien!” Lila calls, rising from Adrien's (old) chair and climbing to where he was sitting now. The whole class dispersing around the room.

He noticed the quick glance Alya shot Marinette after seeing the two of them (Lila and Adrien) talking alone in the back of the room.

This was a behavior Adrien didn't understand coming from Alya and some of the people in the class. Every time he did something, they would glance at Marinette as if expecting some reaction or for her to say something.

“Adrien!” Lila calls again, waving her hands in the boy's face to attract his attention.

And what before he could not see clearly, now he could see crystal clear.

He lived with models, knew fake smiles and opportunistic people. Adrien himself was a model, he was in the middle. Even so, he needed Marinette's help to be able to recognize the mischievous tone of those eyes and the plastic smile on this face.

He felt his stomach turn, but forced a polite smile on his face. The same one he used with his most... aggressive fans. So to speak.

"Hello, Lila."

She takes this as permission to sit by his side and claw his arm like a leech.

"Hi! I wanted to end our conversation from before.” She bites her lip, her eyelashes fluttering in an attempt at charm.

He shudders, trying to create a distance between them, but Lila was strong. Adrien is sure that as soon as he took off his shirt to look, he would find purple spots on the inside of his arm.

“Yes?” Questions “I don't even remember what we were talking about anymore.” Forces a bland laugh.

Lila's smile becomes bigger and sharper.

“Oh, no problem! Before Marinette-" Say the girl's name as an insult "-appear, I would tell you that..." She lowers her tone of voice "I was the one who gave the earrings to Ladybug."

Adrien gathers all his acting knowledge to force a surprised expression.

"Re-really?!"

She looks away as if embarrassed.

"Yes. Actually, I have the power of Volpina myself. It is inherited by worthy women in my family.”

Adrien doesn't even have to pretend to choke. It seemed like there was nothing she wouldn't lie to get attention.

Lila kept talking and talking about how she was leading Ladybug and Chat Noir, how she became the heroine of the fox, the most powerful of heroes and blah blah.

Something pops inside him. His passivity, maybe.

“Lila.” Cut her out. “You can stop lying to me now.”

"W-What?"

“You don't have to lie to fit in with everyone.” He says. “Alya and I were the new ones too, so I know what it's like to be the new boy and be afraid of not being accepted by the class, but you can already drop the act. They are very kind and friendly.”

Lila's expression wavered for a moment before returning to the act.

"But I'm telling the truth." Her lips quiver and her eyes fill with water.

God, she was a terrible actress.

“Lila.” Adrien stiffens the expression. “I know you're lying.”

There is a change of behavior coming from Lila. The serious face, the manipulative eyes.

It reminded Adrien of his father.

“Well it can't be helped.” She lets go of his arm and tosses the hair off her shoulder. "Now how do you- Oh."

Adrien looks at her and follows her eyes in the direction she is staring.

Marinette and Kim, sitting behind Ivan and Mylene.

“It was then, wasn't it? What did she say?” The voice dripping with poison.

Adrien believes that if he were a real cat, he would have hissed in disgust.

“Nothing.” He replies. “Or rather… Enough.”

Lila lets out a tired breath at the boy's words.

“Look Adrien, people like us-”

“People like us? People like you, Lila. Only you. Don't put us in the same category.” Growls “Either you are honest with my friends or you can keep lying and forget me. You choose."

The Italian can barely keep herself from laughing at the ingenuity of the model.

“Oh, Adrien. Do you really think that would work for me?” Purrs “I’m really surprised by your ingenuity. The big ones only stay big by lying and cheating. Even if you're beautiful and rich, I don't think you're worth the effort.”

She slides her finger over Adrien's arm that was spread across the table. He retracts his arm away from her, annoyed.

"So, I think you should leave me alone."

She seems to finally give up on the blonde as she gets up, but before leaving him alone, she leans toward him. The malicious look never leaving her expression.

"Then try to keep out of my way or I'll have the pleasure of destroying you." And get out, as if she hasn’t just threatened someone.

Neither of them notices Marinette and Kim watching the interaction.

××××

Marinette had to insist to Kim go home to take a shower that day.

The boy had not left her for a second for the rest of the school day. He had even turned down a dispute with Alix (which had left half the class in shock) to stay with Mari.

She could only convince him to leave her (finally) alone when she said she wanted privacy in her feminine affairs and after that they could have dinner together while watching Law & Order.

Marinette came through the side door of the bakery, which was now closed for business.

When she gets home, the scent of Kung Pao Chicken attacks her pleasantly.

“Papa, Māma, I'm back!” She calls, opening the bag for Tikki fly freely around the house.

“Huānyíng huíjiā sweetie.” Sabine responds “Your father had to make a delivery, but he should be coming soon.” Says when Marinette arrives in the kitchen.

Marinette kisses the woman's cheek affectionately.

"All right. I need to do something at the bakery.”

Sabine turns around, her face abnormally serious for her daughter.

"Ladybug?"

"Ladybug."

"All right. I'll call when the food is ready and your dad arrives.” She smiles again. “If Tikki wants it, there's a little chocolate mousse left in the bowl. She can eat while I wash the dishes...”

The kwami ​​materializes in the kitchen, her eyes shining.

"YEA!"

"OK." Sabine laughs.

"I'll be right back." Mari says before leaving the house again and going down to the bakery kitchen.

There she pushes the heavy workbench, sliding across the floor until a metal trapdoor appears.

She rests her palm on the safety lock flashing red.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She says and the light is quickly replaced by green and the trapdoor opens softly.

It was the time of truth.

« Previous • The Au • Next »

 And I know that Adrien is very OOC, but calm down! There is a reason for this that will be shown soon.

[Tag list]

@constancetruggle @mystery-5-5 @captainmac6 @northernbluetongue @redscarlet95 @ki117h3dr4g0n @bluefiredemon @mochinek0 @7-sage-7 @lunar-wolf-warrior @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @xxmadamjinxx @vixen-uchiha @crazylittlemunchkin @spicybelladonna @justanothersepticeyefan

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Guilt Imprisonment - Chapter 02

<= Chapter 01

Summary : Moonjumper meets someone. Everything goes well. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665326/chapters/59797414

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New chapter ! Hope you'll like it ! Thank you so much for all your kudos and comment, it means so much to me ! I'm glad you're interested in this sequel !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 2 - “Oh, peck-!”

The night was calm and no one was in sight. The only light illuminating the town was coming from the Moon, which the corpse gazed at with wonder and excitement. Seeing it for real, after years spent all alone in a hellish dimension… It always had a great effect on him. Of course, he had been able to watch it through the magical pond in the Horizon, but it was not the same. Now that he was outside, he could feel the wind caressing his face, he could hear crickets making music, the waves of the sea hitting the beach… The sea air filled his rotten lungs, for a breath he didn’t even need. It was so peaceful, so enjoyable. The best thing regarding this place was its atmosphere and how Moonjumper’s senses weren’t as overwhelmed as his previous experiences. Usually, when he tried to explore the outside world, too many noises and smells submerged him, making it hard for him to stay long. Plus, it was difficult for him to find a place where no one would see him, would judge him. In a way, he couldn’t blame them, as his appearance wasn’t exactly discreet. But it always made him feel bad, worse than how he was already feeling.

Yet, here… Moonjumper could feel this would be different, somehow. The sounds weren’t as loud, the smells were nice and, most importantly… The island was desert. Seeing as it was night time, the inhabitants were certainly sleeping, perfectly unaware of the corpse strolling in the empty streets.

Now that the ghost had floated down to the ground, he could see the mess even better. He thought he had seen everything from above, when he was leaving the Horizon, but it was worse down there. A lot of trash were scattered all around the roads. The walls and floors were cracked and seemed quite old. Crates could be seen everywhere, from all sizes. There were some puddles of a purplish liquid on the cobblestone floor, perhaps wine, though Moonjumper wasn’t sure. It was a bit too dark to be certain about that. A huge red scaffolding was visible from where he was, very imposing among the nearby buildings. Not far away, there was a very tall tower on which was a very big clock.

Moonjumper took another breath he didn’t need and started to explore the city, floating around between the buildings. He started to hum, trying as much as possible to ignore the bloody memories in his mind. The picture of the hatted child, her chest impaled and leaking blood… It was as if it had been printed on his eyelids, for him to see each time he blinked.

The guilt would still be there, waiting for him, lurking in the darkness… Like a predator, it would stay hidden, deep inside, and jump on him as soon as his mind started to wander to happier thoughts. He was not allowed to have them. Not anymore, not after what he did.

The spirit stopped and brought his hands to his head, scratching the surface of his hard skin with his claws. Maybe it would leave marks, maybe it hurt, maybe it was a useless thing to do… But he felt better doing this, without being to explain why exactly. Did he feel the need to be punished? Did he feel like he deserved it? Or was he just trying to hide those awful thoughts by covering them with a layer of pain? He wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop doing it, again, and again, and again.

Why was he free? Why did he flee that day, when Vanessa tried to kill him once and for all? Why was he still alive? He scoffed at the thought: he was already dead, undead even! He couldn’t explain it, but he had the feeling he wouldn’t die from anything, now that his body had been affected by the Time Piece. He had no idea if he was the only person to have gone through such a thing. Was he the first?

Moonjumper clenched his jaw, feeling his teeth crack under the pressure, though it didn’t alarm him. He was already dead, his chest was open and his ribcage was broken! What would some broken teeth do? It wouldn’t change how bad he looked, how rotten his corpse was, how disgusting his appearance had become! Oh, how he hated to look at himself, now. Any reflection was just a horrifying reminder of what he did, how his body changed and how much of an awful person he was.

A sound, almost imperceptible, caught the spirit’s attention, who lifted his head once again. His eyes scanned his surroundings, attempting to find the source of the noise. Silence greeted him again and, for a moment, he almost thought he had imagined it. Almost. But he knew he hadn’t.

Someone was there, watching him, spying on him.

Moonjumper’s mind calmed itself, throwing away all guilty thoughts to focus on the current situation. The living corpse turned around, trying to see the person from where he was. A suspicious silence greeted him once more, as his eyes kept searching for someone, someone who was hiding from him.

After a while, the ghost gave up, and sighed. It was no use looking for the person spying on him. After all, he was a freak, a monster: of course people would stare at him, whether it was from morbid curiosity or out of fear. Moonjumper couldn’t blame them, he would probably act the same way if he were in their shoes. However, he wasn’t and that was enough to make him more than uncomfortable. All previous positive feelings about this place flew away as he felt that person’s stare in his back. He tried to reassure himself, based on his previous experiences: usually, people would stop after a while, too scared or too upset by his appearance to continue. Thus, the spirit did his best to try to ignore it, resuming his stroll among the buildings. He lifted his head to admire the night sky, filled with shiny stars and illuminated by a wonderful and beautiful moon. Gosh, he would never get tired of it, would he? A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched the sky passionately.

He floated forward, trying to occupy his mind with other things… But no matter what he did, where he went, the ghost could still feel that person’s stare on his back. It really was an awful sensation, one the spirit really disliked. And, if he had to be completely honest on that matter, it also made him quite confused. After all, people usually left him alone after a few minutes of observing him.

But, in this case… It seemed that whoever was this person, they really were intrigued by him. Somehow, the spirit couldn’t tell if it made him feel more or less uncomfortable. On one hand, it maybe meant that someone had an interest in him, but on the other hand… He was still being spied on. That wasn’t really a good thing.

Slowly and carefully, Moonjumper tried to catch the spy red-handed. At first, he didn’t see anything, but the second time he examined his surroundings, he spotted a figure watching him from afar. They seemed rather small and they were standing atop of a building, hiding behind a wall. So that’s where they were… Moonjumper turned back to keep floating around, as if he hadn’t seen anything. He wasn’t sure what this person could want from him.

No one had observed him this much before. Maybe it was time to call it a day and come back to the Horizon? The corpse frowned: he was kind of disappointed to give up on his stroll just because of someone. Plus… Wouldn’t that be missing an opportunity?

The spirit stopped, his eyes staring into space as this thought settled in his mind. What if he could initiate a conversation with this person? No one had followed him this long… That could only mean there was a chance, right? Then again, the spirit had passed so much time alone, in complete isolation… He had no idea how to interact with other people again. All he had to do was to remember his failed attempts at socializing with someone! He always made people uncomfortable, scared… Could he bear experiencing this one more time? He wasn’t sure.

He thought about the pros and cons for a moment… And, with a wince, decided that it was still worth trying, even though he was scared of being rejected again. At least, he would have still tried!

Moonjumper turned the other way, to the stranger’s direction. The spirit saw the silhouette hiding behind the wall a little too late. Maybe he could try to get closer and see what this person looked like before making the first step? It was a pretty scary step, after all. Perhaps seeing who he would talk to would make him more comfortable… With a more determined face, the corpse took advantage of the other trying to hide. He entered a nearby back alley, leaving the stranger’s sight. Silently, Moonjumper flew higher, looking jut above the wall to try to see the person closer. His eyes quickly spotted them once again, or at least, their back. They were facing the main street, attempting to find Moonjumper again despite the darkness, leaning over the edge.

Gradually, the spirit floated higher, observing the person looking for him. He suddenly understood why they had seemed so small earlier: it was a child. The realization immediately brought up back memories… Horrible and terrible memories. His mind had to suppress bloody pictures coming back to him.

No. Not now. But guilt was not an easy emotion to control. Still, Moonjumper managed to push it away, only for a brief moment, as he examined the kid in front of him. They were wearing a pinkish tunic, with a purple belt around their waist. They had a red cape with a hood, which was up. Their pants were purple, just a shade darker than the belt.

Moonjumper opened his mouth and hesitated. What was he going to say? How was he going to introduce himself? “Hello, I’m a living corpse! My name is Moonjumper, it’s nice to meet you”? No, he couldn’t possibly do that! He would just frighten them! Just like he had frightened the others… All he wanted was to talk to someone, to finally have the chance to socialize after all those years. But fate seemed determined to prevent him from making any friends… All his attempts had turned into failures. What would make this time any different?

The corpse lowered his eyes, now very hesitant to do anything. It wasn’t too late to change his mind, he could still float back down again and go back to the Horizon, his current home… No one would judge him there, no one would spy on him, he would be safe from everything… But the spirit wasn’t moving, despite lacking the courage to say anything to catch the child’s attention. What was he waiting for? He felt so stupid, so… Useless!

At the same moment, the kid in front of him turned back, maybe because they were tired of waiting for nothing. But the instant they faced Moonjumper, their eyes met. For the first time, the spirit was able to see the child’s face correctly. They had blond hair and a blond moustache, making Moonjumper first think they were a boy. An expression of surprise appeared on the kid’s face, soon replaced by fear as they startled violently.

-“Oh, peck-!” Contrary to what the ghost thought, the voice coming out of the child’s mouth was not masculine but feminine. Was this kid… A girl? Was her moustache a fake one?

The spirit was about to apologize profusely for the sudden fright he gave her, but he stopped, paling instantly. The little girl’s startle made her lose her balance and, with absolute horror, the ghost saw her falling from the building. Her scared expression worsened as she realized the exact same thing as him.

She wouldn’t survive a fall such as this one.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- 

I love writing cliffhangers :) I'm super insecure about this chapter, so if you have any suggestion to improve myself, don't hesitate ! I wanted to wait before posting it but... If I listened to my insecurities, I wouldn't have written "Reliving An Old Nightmare" to begin with... So, yeah.

See you on the next chapter ! Take care in the mean time !

=> Chapter 03

[edream93]

I’m Hooked On All These Feelings (Harry of Auradon AU) Part 11

Hey everyone! Sorry that I haven’t updated since July. Grad school has been rough but I’m getting through it. Anyway, this is also posted on on AO3 or FF.net. Here’s the link for Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6 ,  Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 , and Part 10 of the story so far.

I hope you all like this chapter. It’s not 100% where I would like it to be but I didn’t want to keep it on my drive any longer without publishing it. I hope you’re still able to enjoy.

It would be a lie to say that he had expected Mal to go down without a fight. Mal’s stubbornness was as much of a fact as Jay’s own sticky fingers.

Mal was like Lady Tremaine’s grouchy old cat, Lucifer.

Grouchy. Standoffish. Untrusting.

A persistent little piece of shit with claws and fangs.

Even in the rare occasions that the odds were stacked against her, Mal wouldn’t go down without a little hissing and a little scratching and a whole lot of hell for anyone who dared to get in her way to pay. Therefore, he knew that Mal had been scheming before Harry had even been found unconscious, ever since Uma and Gil had ran off, and especially since Fairy Godmother’s tone deaf attempt at trying to connect them with their parents via video call just before the disaster that was Family Day. (Forty thieves. Jay still felt bad for Evie and wanted to punch Chad Charming in his pretty boy face.)

What Jay hadn’t expected was a glassy eyed Jane to grab her mother’s wand, wrestling it out of the shocked woman’s manicured hand just as Fairy Godmother was about to bless Ben and proclaim him the new King of Auradon.

Sparks of wild uncontrollable magic shot angrily from the wand and into the air, punching holes into the ceiling.

“This must be it,” Jay thought, instantly ushering Carlos and Evie through the stunned crowd to where Mal already stood, snatching the wand that Jane wordlessly handed her. A wide grin pulled at Mal’s lips, at Jane’s squeak of surprise as the spell broke.

“This is where I would say ‘Thank you’, isn't that right?” Mal chuckled briefly glancing over at Fairy Godmother who had pulled a fearful Jane protectively to her side, the crowd going from stunned silence to growing panic as Mal turned her attention to delicately caress the wand in her hands.

Finally. After months of laying low and kissing up to these heroes, they finally had the wand.

Jay was ecstatic.

Mostly...

Kinda....

Ugh, why did it feel like dread was settling into his stomach like heavy stones?

Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten Dude’s dog biscuits earlier. But he had unintentionally overslept so Jay missed breakfast and the last few nights he had spent tossing and turning, waiting for some ominous sign that the Auradon search team had found and imprisoned Uma and Gil. Or worst, the Mal had found the two.

But that sign never came and he mostly just wound up with a halfhearted pillow thrown vaguely in his direction by his pup of a roommate. (Let it be known that Carlos De Vil was even more uptight about his beauty sleep than even Evie was.)

Shoving his uncertainty away, Jay grabbed the back of Carlos’s jacket when the crowd became difficult to move through, only glancing back briefly to make sure that Evie had grabbed onto Carlos’s hand. He pushed against the crowd of princes and princesses and heroes that were already rushing in their fancy silks and skirts for the exits.

“This is it,” he kept telling himself, feeling his face twist into something that felt like a weak attempt at a grin as Mal made eye contact with him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but all the words seemed to struggle to come out, his silver tongue failing him.

An ominous cracking sound like glass shattering resounded from somewhere outside was the only herald of the Mistress’s of Evil arrival.

Jay choked on the thick cloud of dark energy that surrounded the older fairy, the scent of brimstone and hellfire settled thickly in his lungs. His skin burned with the razor sharp sensation of being surrounded by too much concentrated magic, like millions of needles placed into his skin.

“I’m back!” Maleficent cackled, her once torn robes of the Isle now pristine and dark and oozing with evil, in a way that even the almost wax life model in the museum never quite captured.

And she was truly terrifying. (Jay hoped she didn’t remember that one time he stole one of her horned hats for his father.)

“Where shall we begin?” Maleficent pondered, eyes filled with glee and venom.

Carlos squawked in fear hiding behind Jay, Evie gasped, and Jay bit his lip as they all watched Maleficent raise her scepter. It’s green ominous glow highlighted her too wide grin and the room once again filled with gasps and screams of fear of the unlucky ones who hadn’t escaped quick enough. The older generation remembered the dark fairy’s days of cruelty and the younger generation remembered the bedtime stories their parents would tell them of this wicked sorceress. With a dramatic flourish of her scepter, a spell was casted that froze everyone in the room except for herself, Mal, Jay, Carlos, and Evie. Though Jay had to wonder if he, Carlos, and Evie not being frozen was mostly thanks to an oversight.

“I see a little bit of a firm hand motivated you to focus,” Maleficent smirked at her daughter. And then her gaze was on Jay and it was like she was looking through him, breaking him down atom by atom until it felt like nothing remained of the insignificant little Isle street rat that he was. Like he was nothing, only granted to be in her presence because he was Mal’s (for now at least).

Jay held his breath, fighting the urge to throw Carlos and Evie over his shoulders and run away. Thankfully, Maleficent turned away, her attention caught by something else. (Jay doubted that he could have actually gotten away if he made a run for it.)

“I think I nearly peed my pants,” Carlos squeaked, his whole body shaking.

“I think,” Evie began softly, her eyes never leaving the sorceresses back, “I think I get why mother didn’t put up much of a fight when Maleficent exiled us to our castle.”

Jay merely grunted in response.

Mal turned towards them, a delighted look on her face. She let out an excited squeal that was very unnerving. “It’s happening!” she laughed, sounding slightly still in disbelief as she looked at the varying states of distress that were frozen on all the spelled guest as if she had stepped into a candy story. “All of Auradon will be forced to kneel before us. We’ll be the ones in charge.”

Jay clenched his jaw, unconsciously stepping further in front of Evie and Carlos. A part of him still didn’t want to admit that it was very clear that Mal wasn’t talking about the Rotten Four when she said “us” and “we”.

Everything felt wrong. He didn’t feel that expected thrill he thought he would feel at this moment. Just dread and fear.

“Hm...I recognize you.”

Jay looked to see Maleficent circling the unmoving figures of Ben and Harry with predatory grace. Harry had been frozen, stepping defensively in front of Ben, a move that Jay had become somewhat familiar with during their time on the Tourney team. A determined frown was frozen on his place, one hand on the hilt of a sword that had been concealed under his red leather jacket’s long length while the other hand was outstretched to the side to hold back Ben, concern frozen on the new king’s soft features.

But it wasn’t the boy king that had caught Maleficent’s attention, though she did briefly tip over his crown. No. The Mistress’s of Evil attention was fully on Harry.

“Ah yes! I do know that ratty old red jacket well. You wouldn’t happen to be the son of Hook and the Chosen Knight, would you?”

Maleficent reached out, a bruising grip on

Harry’s chin as she turned his face stiffly on his neck, inspecting it. A cruel smile crept onto her lips. “You are!” she cooed. “Oh how perfect this is! Mal! Look!” she called towards her daughter, eyes never leaving Harry’s. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I lost my wings?”

Caught off guard by the taboo topic, Mal’s brow wrinkled. She shifted anxiously on her feet, hand idly playing with the wand in a way that Jay recognized the uncertainty in her stance. After all, no one, unless they had a death wish, mentioned Maleficent’s wings. “Well y-”

Maleficent cut her off as if Mal hadn’t even spoken.

“I’d bet you’d like to hear it, wouldn’t you, dear?” she directed towards Harry. “Of course you would. I bet you love hearing stories about your heroic parents.”

The grip that Jay still maintained on Carlos’s jacket tightened further, as if he was the one being scrutinized by the most fearsome villain in history. He was only vaguely aware that Carlos had managed to slip out jacket, taking quiet steps backwards as Jay stood rooted to the spot. He wouldn’t blame the pup if he tried to take off running. Maleficent prowling around Harry was like a predator sizing up her prey.

“Your mother did it of course,” Maleficent addressed Harry casual, as if discussing the weather. “Came right up behind me in my own domain and sliced through my wings with an iron blade, leaving twisted and gnarled things to grow in their shadow. Did your daddy ever tell you that?” she asked conversationally. “About how it had been a nearly impossible task given to your mother just because of how impossible it should have been? How your father had hoped she would get the message that he wasn’t interested in a nameless orphan born that talked of worlds and people that didn’t exist but spoke so clearly to her in her dreams? About how in one life, in another world, they were each other's true love.”

Maleficent paused staring into his eyes.

“Ah," she sighed, feigning sadness. "They didn't. Oh you poor dear! And you have the dreams too, just like her.” She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Dreams that will slowly drag you into madness. Just like they did with her. The joy of being magically intolerant. Too much magic and your bound to lose your mind."

He couldn’t respond, but Jay could feel the waves of anger and rage that rolled off of Harry.

“Where was I dear?" she turned dramatically towards Mal, snapping her fingers before Mal could even open her mouth.

The dog biscuits in Jay's stomach felt like lead, watching the twisted motherly expression on Maleficent's face.

"Oh that's right. After my wings were taken, I escaped but not without the greatest lost of my life,” Maleficent continued as if she had never stopped her story, long held mourning in her stance as she briefly stared off to the side, “my beautiful, strong wings...Everything seemed to all go to hell. Perhaps that’s why that damn Sleeping Beauty’s prince was able to defeat me with the help of those scatterbrained pixies,” Maleficent’s eyes sparkled dangerously with barely contained rage as she faced him again. The smile that stretched her lips oozed with vengeance and promise of the worst kind of pain beyond imagine. “That day I made a promise to myself that if I could - if the opportunity should ever present itself in front of me - I would grab it and repay the Knighted Savior tenfold the pain she caused me. Sad how she’s not here to take the repayment,” she sighed, as if she were truly saddened, raising her scepter up towards Harry, its glow menacing. “I suppose you’ll just have to do.”

Of course Jay had known, to some extent what releasing the villains, what releasing Maleficent from the Isle, meant. He wasn’t innocent. None of them were. His hands were stained with blood from having to survive on the Isle but he always imagined the Auradonians would be fighting back. That though the villains would win in the end, it would be a fair fight, or at least fair in the sense that the Auradon folks would at least try to fight back.

He didn’t imagine...this

Jay’s traitorous stomach twisted again and he could no longer pretend to ignore how wrong this all felt as the shadow of the glow of the evil fairy’s scepter covered the room in an eerie green glow as it prepared to fire off a spell at its holder’s command.

And then an arrow whizzed through the air.

Maleficent spun and used her scepter to deflect it off its straight course towards her. The arrow embedded itself barely a breath away from the Queen Leah’s foot, the frozen queen’s eyes widened just a fraction to indicate that she was aware enough of what was going on.

“You,” Maleficent spat as her gaze fell onto the youngest son of Gaston. Gil raised his crossbow again, arrow loaded and aimed at her. “I thought I smelled vermin.”

“What the forty thieves?” Jay found himself swearing under his breath. Gil wasn’t supposed to be here! He was supposed to be wherever with Uma, hiding for as long as possible from Mal and her obsession. Jay hadn’t distracted Mal during the jailbreak just for them to come back and step right in the dragons’ den!

Were they idiots? Did they want to die?

“You!” Mal shoved past Jay, eyes frantically searching to see behind Gil. When she didn’t see what she wanted, her eyes glowed. Her hands, human shaped but unnaturally claw like, shook at her sides. “Where. Is. Uma?”

“Uh, I don’t think I’m supposed to say,” Gil frowned honestly though his crossbow never lowered from where it was aimed at Maleficent.

Maleficent rolled her eyes. She flicked her wrist, an invisible force ripping the crossbow out of the startled boy’s hand and crashing above some still frozen royals’ heads.

“Really?” the sorceress snorted unimpressed. “I knew you Gaston boys were bullheaded but even your father knew when to step down in my presence.” The long sleeves of her robes brushed against the floor as she curled her fingers towards her.

Gil let out a yelp as he was dragged down the hall by an invisible force. He let out a slight yelp when he stopped suddenly in front of Maleficent.

“Now, where’s Ursula’s unfortunate daughter?” Maleficent growled. “What does she have planned?”

“Ye know, I think the question ye should be asking is what do I have planned?”

Gil was dropped to the ground as Maleficent spun, using her scepter to block the swift swipe of a sword being wielded by one very moving Harry.

“HOW!?!” Maleficent fumed. Jay wanted to know that answer too.

Harry didn’t respond but Jay could see, could feel Uma’s shelled necklace glowing steadily with golden magic that rolled off it like soothing waves. A cool balm washing over and cleansing Maleficent’s needle prickly magic.

Maleficent must have also realized the shell’s effects because her frown turned murderous, the shadows near her turning dark and threatening like black flames.

“Ursula’s necklace. She was a fool for giving her little beast something so powerful! Should have killed that fishy welp a long time ago,” she hissed preparing to push back and strike at the boy.

With her and Mal’s and Jay’s attention on Harry, only Carlos and Evie noticed a small ball of light fly into the room, dropping a shield blessed with fairy magic from three particular fairies that matched Harry’s sword into Gil’s hands. Gil gave a bright “Thanks!” before the small ball of light flew back out one of the windows that Carlos not so coincidentally stood by. (It hadn’t been opened earlier and could only be opened from the inside…)

Even if Jay had been paying attention, there was no way he could ever describe the look of complete and utter shock on Maleficent’s face with any justice as Harry grunted, pushing with all his strength, and perhaps a little aid from the still glowing shell necklace, until Maleficent lost her balance and fell backwards. She flipped gracelessly over Gil who had been waiting behind her, newly acquired shield strapped to his arm.

Jay felt Mal violently tense next to him as Maleficent fell to the ground. Before she could reach for her dropped scepter, just out of reach, or before Mal could come to her senses, the sharp tip of the sword was pressed against Maleficent’s throat.

“Well, you may take after your father in looks,” the old fae growled up at him, “but you’re exactly like your mother.”

“I'll take that as a compliment. I hope you like the poetic-ness of using these specific weapons,” Harry grinned tilting his head in a mocking manner as Gil stepped next to him,  shield raised. “Gilly-boy here went through all the trouble of getting the same shield and sword that put you six feet under the first time. Just for you."

An inhuman hissed escaped Maleficent’s lips.

“Don’t worry,” Gil spoke up with a pleased grin. “It wasn’t that hard with the museum only having the one guard and all.” He paused thoughtfully before looking to gaze over at gawking Mal. “I think that sleeping spell you cast on him when we were there before gave him heartburn though. It’s been making it hard for him to sleep.”

He paused, frown deepening further in thought.

“Or that’s what I think he said. I had to tie him up because he kept wanting to play this game where he tried to stop me from taking the sword and shield. Wow, being a museum guard seems pretty cool!” He grinned at Harry who couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Aye perhaps,” Harry nodded, sword still pointed at Maleficent. “But a life on the waves is more for me.”

“Oh!” Gil grinned with excitement. “Wait until you see the sh-”

“ENOUGH!” Mal screamed, sending sparks of angry magic at Harry and Gil. Both boys dodged out of the way but the banners behind them burned quickly in flames. “Where is Uma? WHERE IS SHE!?!?!”

Whether Harry or Gil had a response, Jay wouldn’t know. In one moment’s time, Maleficent was engulfed by dark green smoke, reemerging as a large deadly dragon with smoke and hellfire escaping her giant snout. The two boys scrambled out of the way as the dragon roared before she huffed a large fireball at them.

The ball of flames narrowly missed where Audrey, Chad, and Lonnie stood frozen in various stages of shock. A single flame did attempt to catch the prince’s jacket on fire. Jay distractedly wondered if it would necessarily be so bad if all of Chad’s clothing went on fire but just as quickly as the fire began to grow the fire alarm and sprinklers went off.

“NO! My makeup! My hair!” Evie moaned, pulling Carlos’s discarded blazer out from Jay’s hands and covering her head with it.

“Shut up!” Mal hissed pushing wet bangs from her face, eyes searching through the spray frantically. Jay didn’t have to ask to know that she was looking for any sign of teal. “If you’re going to be useless then just get out of my way, princess.” She let out a curse as she gathered the inhibiting layers of her dress, stomping forward through quickly growing puddles to aid her mother.

Cries of horror and fear returned to the room, like someone had unpaused and unmuted the world around them as the once frozen bystanders gained movement once again, rushing towards the exits. Guards immediately swarmed around King Adam, Queen Belle, Fairy Godmother, and Jane, moving them towards a side exit.

“Enchanted lake water,” the menacing dragon’s voice echoed throughout the hall, water running down dark purple and black scales.

“It’s Uma!” Mal shouted, frustration growing every time she had to push her wet hair away from her face.

Maleficent roared. “Find her!”

Jay stood in the middle of it, slightly stunned and for once lacking his usual confidence as things seemed to spiral around him. A hand gripped his arm tightly, turning him around. He turned to see Evie, all worries about her water drenched hair and running makeup (though she still managed to look the “fairest of them all” even when disheveled) absent as she gave him an indescribable look from beneath the cover of Carlos’s blazer.

Jay felt like he was at the edge of something.

“Are you with us?” was all Evie said, voice firm. Waiting. Expectant.

A crossroad.

Pick left or right.

Choose a side.

Villain or hero.

(A memory of the smell of shrimp mixed with tears, expecting green eyes, and guilt that hurt worse than any hunger pains on the Isle.)

“Wh-what? Us?” he forced a laugh out of his mouth. Jay shook his head, reaching up to play with his beanie only to remember his hair was pulled up into a tight bun that Evie had done herself only hours earlier. (That felt like days ago.) “What are you talking about? Mal has the wand.”

Evie didn’t say anything but continued to stare at him expectantly. Jay glanced over at Carlos. The smaller boy was standing behind Evie and despite the way his frame seemed to shake, his eyes never left Jay’s as he watched the thief look from the remote like device Carlos was clutching in his hands up to the sprinklers that were still raining down magic lake water.

“I’m tired of being afraid of my mom,” Carlos explained with a sad smile. “This...this may not work but…” he trailed off, shrugging with a small smile at Jay’s shocked expression. “Gotta try.”

So many things ran through his Jay’s head. He wanted to pause everything and just run. Run away from Mal and her twisted obsession. Run away from his father and his expectations. Run until the energy that crackled under his skin burned him out until nothing was left. Run away from the question that seemed to take up all of the space in his mind: Could he live with what was to happen next?

Across the room, Harry narrowly rolled out of the way of long breath of dragon fire.

He gripped his sword, thrumming with fairy magic in his hand. It gave him a slight migraine but his movements were sharper and more wild. The sword was also slightly heavier than he was used to, but he had figured a dragon would be involved in some way (though admittedly he thought said dragon would be more Mal shaped than actual dragon) and what better way to fight a fae-dragon than with the same sword and shield that had initially slayed one?

But the shell necklace around his neck continued to steadily thrum, a tethering weight around his neck, pulling his thoughts back with a gentle but firm tug when they threatened to grow too chaotic. Keeping him focused. Keeping him anchored.

“Harry!”

He was suddenly tackled to the floor, said dragon slaying sword clattering several yards across the wet floor. The weight on his back quickly moved, pulling him to his feet.

Ben.

Oh Davey Jones.

“What are you still doing here?” Harry hissed, eyes already searching for a way out for the new king, his oldest friend, his brother in everything that mattered.

“Maybe we can talk to them,” Ben said with that damn spark of hopefulness and goodness in his eyes that Harry knew most of the people in this kingdom couldn’t even fake.  “To Mal and her mother. If we could just get them to listen, things can be different this time and-” the rest of Ben’s sentence was cut off, muffled noises coming from sealed lips. He also noticed that the sprinklers were smoldering and melted, the water no longer able to spray out.

“Evil, he never shuts up does he?”

Gil, who had just seconds ago been trying to distract Maleficent was tossed towards Harry and Ben. All three boys were knocked to the ground into an awkward pile of wet limbs. Mal stood over them, her hair wild and untamed and thick streaks of makeup ran down her face in a truly terrifying way as if all of it decided to just melt off. (And perhaps it did if the steam that rolled off her shoulders was any indication.)

“Now that I have your attention,” she grounded out, wand pointed dangerously at Ben, sparks of green threatening to jump from its tip. “Tell me where that little shrimp is.”

“Not telling ye, anything,”

Mal frowned. “Your death wish th-”. Mal abruptly stopped and Maleficent growled above them.

“Drop the wand, Mal.”

The half fae slowly turned, careful of the sword that was now pointing at her heart, glare deepening as angry glowing green eyes fell on Jay.

“Trying to play a knight now, Jay? Got tired of being a little street rat?”

“Just got tired of not even knowing if I could trust the person I was supposed to be following.”

Mal’s jaw dropped before quickly turning into a scowl. “I knew you were weak. Always looking for validation. From me. From your dad. From the stupid little team of princelings that you’ve joined. You’ve always needed someone to validate you Jay. To tell you that you’re valuable and precious,” she said with a mocking pout. “But you know what?” she snapped, ignoring the warning growl Maleficent directed towards her. “I bet you can’t even do it. I bet you can’t even slay the big bad dragons. That you aren’t good enough.”

Harry watched cautiously as Jay shrugged. The thief had always been a wild card for this plan but Evie and Carlos stood behind Jay and that was enough to tell Harry which side this wild card of a boy had finally fallen on.

“You’re right. I’m not good enough,” he lowered the sword. Mal smirked smugly reaching for the sword. “But maybe she is.” And then Jay threw the sword into the air.

Everything seemed to move slowly and yet all at once. A scene that had been building up for years finally coming into play.

Jay tackled Mal to the ground, the wand flying from her hand. Carlos used Jay’s back as leverage to jump into the air and catch the wand. He landed, feet slipping on the wet floor but Ben and Evie quickly helped him to his feet and off to the side.

Meanwhile, Maleficent quickly gained her bearings and seemingly without even a thought for her own daughter, breathed fire at them. Jay rolled Mal just barely out of the line of fire but Gil stepped in front of Harry, shield raised.

Gil grunted under the unrelenting force as Maleficent continued to breath fire, against the shield. But he kept his hold steady as Harry pressed his back against his, zipping up his jacket all the way up.

Seven seas, he hoped this worked.

“Now!” Evie shouted. She stepped forward, her magic mirror shining a blinding light into Maleficent’s eyes. The fire stopped as the dragon floundered back with a screeching yell.  

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Now he thought, stomach fluttering with anticipation as he and Gil, with the skill only acquired when two people are desperate enough to do something crazy, spun and dropped to their knees so that Harry faced the dragon.

Blinking through the temporary blindness, Harry saw Maleficent prepare to spit another lung full of flames at him, wicked glee in her reptilian eyes. He hoped the stories of his mother’s jacket being dragon fire-proof were true...

The sea shell necklace around his neck thrummed with power and instead of focusing on Maleficent, he looked towards the puddles on the ground.

To an inattentive eye, it just looked like the puddles were shaking due to the vibrations caused by the fight. Anyone else would have missed the way that small droplets of water floated up from the floor’s puddles, hovering for a moment just above the ground. Harry was sure that if he squinted hard enough, he could see a reflection of grinning lips that he desperately wanted to reacquaint himself with.

The water droplets then shot up high into the air, merging together in long tentacle like tendrils that reached up and dragged Maleficent down. The dark sorceress fought against her watery bonds but she was forced to push her large body against the floor, pinned.

Maleficent roared. Maleficent fought but the water hardened, forming ice bonds. Most of the dragon was pinned down but she was able to raise her head just enough to see a large collection of water drops merge together, forming a humanoid shape that solidified into a familiar teal clad sea witch’s daughter, using a combo of the Gil’s propped and angled shield and his own strength as a jumping board.

Excess golden pixie dust surrounded her in an ethereal glow and the sword that Jay had thrown into the air now in her hands, Harry was certain that he would never see a more beautiful sight.  

“Uma,” he said, half encouragement, half praise, and all devotion tied all together in just one word.

“NO! MOTHER!” Mal screamed from where Jay was restraining her against the ground but it was too late.

The world seemed to stop breathing.

All eyes on Uma and the sword raised above her head.

And then...there was a crash like thunder and waves against the rocks, and then…

And then Maleficent was no more.

[purrincess-chat]

Crackmas 6.2

So, here is the actual Day 6 for Crackmas! I didn’t post one yesterday, so today you get two! This one is rated T just for strong language, but I hope you all enjoy some wisdom teeth shenanigans and a partial reveal. Aka Marinette.exe has stopped working. 

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 6.1

AO3

In hind sight, when Alya convinced her to volunteer to deliver Adrien his homework for the day since he had his wisdom teeth out, she expected it to be a quick visit. She didn’t expect Nathalie to leave a very drugged and delusional boy in her hands while she went to fill his prescriptions, and in her defense, for most people it would have proved a very simple task. Just watch him and make sure he didn’t fall down the stairs or something in his anesthesia-induced haze. But Marinette was beginning to realize that she wasn’t most people, and life had a way of shaking things up just for her. So as Chat Noir raced them through the city on a manhunt for Hawkmoth, she slowly accepted that her life would never truly be normal, but she supposed she should start from the beginning.

It all started when she rang the bell outside Adrien’s giant fortress of a house, and Nathalie answered. She expected a similar situation to the one encountered on his birthday, stick it in the mail box and leave, but to her surprise, Nathalie requested a favor and opened the gates. Cautiously, she approached the front door where Gabriel’s trusty assistant was waiting for her.

“I hate to ask this of you, but can you watch Adrien for a little while? I have to run to the store and pick up his prescriptions. He should just be sleeping, but if he wakes up, just put an ice pack on his face and make sure he doesn’t do anything,” She explained in a rush.

“Uh, okay?” Marinette nodded, and Nathalie seemed relieved as she unlocked the car parked in the lot and waved her inside.

“I’ll be back in an hour.”

An hour. What could go wrong in an hour?

Marinette felt a giddy grin creeping over her face as she climbed the stairs up to Adrien’s room. An hour alone with Adrien! Of course he would probably be sleeping the whole time, but she could admire his unconscious face. She bet he looked like an angel. Although she didn’t expect a response, she knocked a couple of times on the door before pushing it open and peering inside.

“Adrien?” She called, tiptoeing in.

She spotted a blond mop of hair on the bed, a small smile curling on her lips as she crept closer. His cheeks were a little swollen from the gauze shoved in them, but he was still the most handsome human on the face of the planet. Not even intensive oral surgery could make him look bad. Maybe he wasn’t human. She often described him as more god-like with how unnaturally pretty he was, and if she was being honest, she kind of hated him a little for it. In an envious and admiring way though.

Adrien shuffled a little and hugged his pillow tighter, and Marinette pressed a hand to her lips to stifle a giggle. It was probably weird, now that she thought about it, to watch someone sleeping, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. She longed to reach out and touch that silky smooth hair of his, but she feared that doing so would wake him. And she really didn’t want to explain why she was creepily looming over him while he slept, let alone why she was stroking his hair. Then again…He was pretty heavily medicated, so maybe just a quick touch…

Hesitantly, she reached a hand out and brushed his bangs back from his face, daring to caress his cheek with the back of her finger. His skin was smooth and perfect and warm against her touch, and she could feel his breath tickling her flesh as he slumbered. But in an instant his eyes flew open, and she jerked back with a shriek.

“I’m so sorry! I was just – uh, Nathalie had to go to the store, and um, I wasn’t trying to-” She fumbled as Adrien shot forward and blinked at her a few times in confusion. His eyes widened, and he leaned forward to cup her cheeks in his hands, squishing them together with a pensive frown. “Adrien?”

“I nee ‘or ‘elp,” He mumbled around his gauze.

“Wha- Okay! What do you need? Water, ice, more gauze, soup, a loving girlfriend?” She listed, but he shook his head.

“No!” He snapped. “I nee your elp!”

“What can I do? What do you want? I’ll do anything!” She said, and he glanced around as if there could be anyone else in the room to over hear what he was about to tell her.

“I ‘aw Haw-moh,” He whispered.

“You what?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Adrien rolled his eyes and leaned in closer.

“I s-aw Hawkmof!” He enunciated, albeit poorly, and Marinette pressed her lips together in a firm line.

“Oh yeah?” She said in amusement, pushing him back down gently. “What was he like?”

“Big,” Adrien said. “Scary.”

“I bet he was,” Marinette nodded in understanding. “Nathalie told me to put this ice pack on your face if you woke up. It’ll help the swelling, and your anesthesia should be wearing off soon, so just lay down and-”

“We ave t’ sto im, La-ybu,” He insisted, and Marinette shushed him.

“Uh-huh. You rest, and I’ll get right on that,” She patted his chest with a smile then turned to reach for the ice pack on his desk.

“Pla’ clawsss ou!” He punched the air clumsily, but it was enough to activate his ring.

“What the fuck?!” Marinette screeched as green light washed over the boy in the bed, replacing him with an all-too-familiar black-clad superhero. His eyes narrowed in on her.

“We have to go immediately, Ladybug,” He said, clutching her shoulders as she stared at him in shock.

“Holy shit this cannot be happening. You can’t be, no, no way!” She shook her head to clear it.

“Come with me,” He ordered. “I can’t defeat him without you, m’lady.”

“Okay, no. Adr-Chat-fuck! There is no Hawkmoth. You are on some seriously good medicine, and no, don’t pick me up!” She swore as he jumped out of bed and scooped her up over his shoulder.

“There’s no time. We have to hurry!” He said, reaching for his staff and leaping from the window as Marinette clung to him for dear life. Should she transform? What if Adrien remembered all this later? She couldn’t reveal her identity! Though the thought of falling from this height as a civilian made the option all the more tempting. It was just the drugs making him think she was Ladybug, and she wasn’t about to prove him right.

Nathalie was going to kill her. How the hell was she going to explain this? If she didn’t find a way to get Adrien back home soon then she’d get charged with kidnapping and thrown in prison, and when Adrien finally comes out of his haze, he won’t remember any of this, and she’ll forever be known as the person who abducted helpless Adrien Agreste after he got his wisdom teeth out. She needed a plan.

“Hey, uh, I think I saw Hawkmoth over there,” She said, pointing back in the direction they came from.

“He’s this way,” He said with a surety, and Marinette groaned a little as he continued to race across rooftops.

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I saw him over ther-”

“Shh!” He skidded to a stop and dropped into a crouch, setting her down and clamping a hand over her mouth. His eyes narrowed into a glare on a billboard across the way featuring an advertisement for the new insect exhibit at the museum. A bright blue butterfly took center stage on the image, and Chat was glaring daggers at it. “There he is.”

“Yeeeeah, let’s go get him,” Marinette said with a slight nod, and before she could stop him, Chat stood up and sprang across the gap with one hand raised.

“Cataclysm!” He called, raking his claws down the sign and turning it to a pile of ash. Marinette face palmed as he stood among the remnants with a triumphant beam. “I did it, m’lady!”

“Yep, you sure did, Chat. Now, let’s go home,” She called, gesticulating back in the direction they came from as Chat drunkenly hopped back over to her. He stumbled a little, falling into her arms, though he was a bit too heavy for her to hold up, so they crashed onto the roof where Chat gazed up at her giddily.

“Can I have a kiss?” He requested.

“Excuse me?”

“I beat Hawkmoth. You should kiss me,” He said matter-of-factly.

“Uh, maybe later,” She winced, as a tiny bit of blood trickled down his face. “You should get home.”

“Wait!” He whined, reaching a hand up to awkwardly touch her face. “I wanna tell you something.”

“What is it?” She asked, nervously glancing at the time. Nathalie would be home soon.

“I wanna tell you who I really am,” He said, brushing her cheek.

“Uhhh, go for it,” Marinette encouraged, and he closed his eyes as his last pad faded and reverted him back to normal.

“I’m Adrien Agreste,” He said with a hazy grin.

“Whaaat?” Marinette gasped overdramatically. “Chat, that’s amazing!”

“Mmmhmm,” His eyelids drooped a little, and his hand flopped back to his side. “I love you, Ladybug.”

She felt her face turn three shades of red as his eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out in her arms. Adrien was in love with Ladybug. But Adrien was also Chat Noir. She pursed her lips in thought then shook herself. There was no time to think about it. She had to get Adrien home. Fast.

“Tikki, spots on!”

When Nathalie arrived back home, Marinette sat casually in Adrien’s computer chair, anxiously twiddling her thumbs. Adrien was sprawled out in bed snoring, not a single hair out of place, and there was no evidence to suggest that they’d ever left the house.

“I’m back!” Nathalie announced, peaking into the room. “Thank you for doing this. I know it probably wasn’t very exciting.”

“No, no, it was…fine,” Marinette cast a sidelong glance at Adrien then flicked her gaze back to Nathalie with a smile. “I’m happy to help, and nothing interesting at all happened. He just slept the whole time.”

“Good,” Nathalie relaxed a little. “And thank you again for delivering his homework.”

“Mmhmm,” Marinette nodded before casually strolling back down the stairs and out the door. She wore a poker face all the way back to her house and up to her room before she calmly picked up a pillow and pressed it over her face.

“AdrienisChatNoirholyfuckingfuckfuckfuck!”

[hellomissmabel]

Manhattan Mistress part 4

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader, Tony x reader and OC!Casey (daughter of Y/N and Tony)

Summary: It’s time to get to know Wanda, Natasha and Pietro a little better.

Word count: 3.400

Warnings: Talk of murder, sex, abuse, prostitution, violence and death. There’s also an actual death in this part so be aware. Please do not read belong the cut if you’re not comfortable with any of forementioned!

A/N: Dedicated to my favourite mob AU writer @caplanbuckybarnes. Enjoy sweetie!

Part 1: the background story

Part 2: the friction

Part 3: the madness

The havoc

There are two kinds of hookers, one good and one bad. Good hookers give you half a blowjob and let you fuck them without complaining. They accept your cash at the end of the deed and that is that, no more fuss and no more contact. Natasha used to be like that and you remember when your father brought her to the house to have his way with her. The mob boss was known for his brutality and he treated his sluts with the same respects as he would treat a stray dog.

Just like many others she was forced into prostitution in order to pay for her student loans but don’t be mistaken, Nat was no ordinary girl. She’d do her job properly because she didn’t know anything else to do, although there was always a fire of defiance burning brighter and brighter behind those dark eyes and cheeky smile. You paid the pimp Bruce, who coincidentally is also her ex, a handsome amount of money to release her into your care and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Nat was young and vulnerable when Bruce got a hold of her and he moulded her into the perfect prostitute. Bruce isn’t all that bad but he has a low tolerance for disobedience and seems to be always angry. If there’s something like a Stockholm syndrome for prostitutes and their handlers, than Natasha most definitely has it. It took you months before you could finally convince her that he was no good for her and yet she kept coming back to him after she’d hit a rough patch. He’d provide her with uppers and downers and all that shit which was also partly to blame for her addiction to this awful man. You’re just happy she eventually pulled the plug on him, or rather, the trigger.

Unfortunately Wanda is the latter. She was one of Loki’s high-end escorts until he found out she was robbing the customers of their money and other valuable items. He kicked her out and two days later Fury arrested her for soliciting. Her brother Pietro begged you to get her out of jail, he is one of your favourite employees and since Fury is a dirty cop and on your father’s payroll for as long as you can remember, all it took was one phone call and she had her freedom back. You sent Clint to pick her up at the police station and told him to bring her to the mansion. She stayed for approximately two weeks and by the looks of it, she stepped up her game since the last time you saw her.

Wearing expensive clothing only a sugar daddy could have provided her with, the woman now sitting in front of you is in full control of her sexuality, long auburn hair falling in waves down her back and scarlet-brown eyes smirking at me from behind her cocktail, a Manhattan and you know for a fact that when she ordered it, she solely did it to provoke you. “What did you want to talk to me about?” the little vixen asks, clicking her tongue and looking at you with malice in her eyes.

You’ve been singing at Sam’s bar again and business has never been better. You absolutely love the attention you receive from some of your most loyal fans, Bucky included. Nevertheless something’s been bothering you and in order to put the matter to bed, you need a spy. You absolutely despise Wanda but for the sake of maintaining your control, you sometimes have to put your own personal issues aside and focus on the bigger picture. Clint passed on a message to Wanda for you, telling her you wanted to meet with her at the end of your shift.

Slowly you take another sip of your drink, eyeing her intently, the material hiking up a little higher as she crosses her legs. It gives you a great view of her choice of underwear or rather the lack thereof. This girl has a nerve going commando to a rendezvous with none other than the Manhattan mistress. “You have a debt that needs to be paid. You know who I am, don’t you? And I’m not talking about my nickname.”

A lot of parents didn’t want their children to attend Casey’s birthday party because of your reputation and it pained your heart to see your daughter so unhappy and not being able to explain to her why they’d cancelled all of a sudden. Steve however did a great job at damage-control and told Casey a very sugar-coated version of how mommy and him fell in love, saying lots of people didn’t understand what you and Steve felt for each other and as a result of their ignorance tried to sabotage the relationship before it had even started.

Wanda gives you a curt nod of her head. “I know who you are. And thank you for not telling anyone.”

It happened by accident really. You were collecting your stuff from your dressing room after opening night and heard muffled sounds coming from Sam’s office. Unaware of a new woman in Sam’s life and vaguely recognising the male voice as Clint’s, you carefully opened the door to take a peak only to see Clint buried balls deep in Wanda’s tight hole, his hand on her mouth to prevent her from screaming.

Clint has gained your respect but the only thing Wanda gained from you was disgust. Not in a position to judge either of them, you closed the door again and walked away, all the while thinking out a plan to put this new kind of information to good use. “Natasha is my best friend and I care deeply for her. She’ll kill you as soon as she finds out. I want to make you a deal, my silence in exchange for your services.”

Wanda seems to think it over for a second, her hands fidgeting in her lap. One of Sam’s regulars asks him to change the music and a slow song starts playing in the background. She seems to recognise the first notes and momentarily looks thrown off. I briefly wonder what’s so special about this particular song until I remember she used to date this guy named Vision, a well-known musician and this just happens to be his greatest hit, one of many he wrote in her name.

“I’m not going to ask you to do things you don’t want to do,” I reassure her, beckoning Sam over with a wave of my hand. He fills up our glasses, smiling politely at Wanda and me before returning to his fixed spot behind the bar. “I just want you to be my eyes and ears for me, here, at the bar. I’ve already made the necessary arrangements with Sam. No more picking men up from the streets, from now on you’ll be waitressing instead.”

She seems to be content with the offer, agreeing quickly. “That sounds fair.”

The door opens and a gust of wind causes goose bumps to erupt on her skin. A male slides in the booth next to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders and pecking my cheek lightly before greeting Wanda with a cheeky smile. “Hi sister, good to see you again,” the silver-haired individual says. “What’s going on? Boss giving you a hard time?”

“That’s none of your business, Piet,” she retorts with a grin. Her eyes lock with mine, silently asking for my permission to leave which I grant without much hesitation. This conversation is not meant for her ears and I don’t want her here anymore. I simply can’t stand the girl any longer and the only reason I tolerate her around me is because she’s screwing Clint and her brother Pietro is one of my trustees. But as soon as she’s done what I set her out to do, I’ll throw her straight into Natasha’s claws. She’ll know what to do with her and no-one will be able to trace it back to me.

Pietro leans closer until his lips caress the shell of my ears as he whispers his message, finishing with a flirty “You look so damn delicious in that little black dress, boss. Shame you’re already spoken for.”

Pietro started out working for me as I first took over the empire after my father’s death. Much like Bucky, he was a mere errant boy, quick on his feet and eager to please, nothing too difficult for him to take care of. Roughly 4 months later I promoted him.

“Oh shut it, Speedy,” I grin back, ruffling his already tousled silver hair and he graces me with a genuine laugh, one that inspires me to laugh as well.  He’s a fine-looking chap with a good heart and a sharp mind but unfortunately the drugs have got a tight grip on him, speed being his biggest vice. “Better tell me what you found out about that bitch.”

Loki takes care of the girls and the drugs, Nick runs the casino’s and laundries the dirty money. But I would never trust both of them with a job as delicate as buying and selling information. Stocks and shares, as my father liked to call it, has always been the mob’s main priority. Pietro is in charge of New York’s finest secrets and yesterday I asked him to run a background check on a woman of particular interest to me.

“Pepper Pots, Stark’s newest lay, has been around for a very long time. Works with a certain schedule and according to my informants, she’s been targeting rich men all over the country. Looks like Tony’s next.”

Pietro fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his dress jacket, holding it out for me to take a look at some of the evidence he gathered. “This is all the proof you need, boss.”

I first heard about Pepper Pots at Casey’s birthday party when Tony introduced her to Steve and myself. Wearing a white jumpsuit that accentuated her slim figure, she smiled at me with perfect teeth and a haughty posture, treating me as if I’m beneath her and excuse me if that didn’t sit well with me. It’s bad enough not everyone who was invited showed up, but that Tony’s skank thinks less of me is something I cannot swallow.

I watched her intently the entire time, how she snuggles up to Tony and palms his dick when she thinks nobody’s watching or how her handshake is just a tad firmer when she’s greeting women that could be a potential threat to her claim on my ex-husband. She was establishing her dominance and now I am about to establish mine.

“There are pictures of her with various men, all around Tony’s age. Much to my surprise, she’s actually a natural blonde. Who would’ve thought, eh?,” he jokes and I laugh lightly, shoving his biceps with the back of my hand. His fingers rest on my upper thigh, tenderly stroking and tracing nonsense patterns on my soft skin.

Our history started during the hiatus between my divorce to Tony and my first encounter with Steve. I was horny and he was the first man to show a genuine interest in me, no need to gift-wrap it. I was in need of some cock and he was willing to tend to my needs.  “Could’ve fooled me,” I mutter under my breath and Pietro snickers, his hand moving a little higher.

All men stayed clear from me out of fear for Tony’s wrath but not Pietro. He went all out trying to swoon me and we shared one hell of a passionate night, burned into my memory until the end of days. “Doesn’t seem like Tony’s type at all to me,” Pietro confesses and I shrug in response.

“Who knows what his type is, he’s fucked so many already.” The notion does awaken a certain green monster of jealousy inside of me and suddenly I can understand why Bruce did what he did. That man had a short fuse and Natasha liked to push his buttons just to see how far she could take it. Unfortunately it resulted in only more pain and Bruce was happy to return to his duties as a lover boy once the storm had blown over, picking up schoolgirls and offering them the way to paradise only to introduce them to the ways of the night after talking them into his bed.

But me and Pietro, it was just sex and nothing more, no feelings or anything else involved. It was fun and we remain friendly, sometimes pushing the boundaries between friendly and intimate but in all innocence, he would never make a move on me knowing I’m still married to another man. Unlike Bucky.

“I’ll ask Buck to pay her a visit when Tony isn’t around,” I discuss with Pietro, placing my hand on his and interlacing our fingers. His expression perks up at the gesture, it’s been a while since he’s felt the delicate brush of a woman’s skin against his own. The poor guy never gets any actions, simply because he’s always too caught up in whatever I order him to do. I should go more easy on him, but the mob life isn’t going to run itself anytime soon.

Pietro scoffs, a few stray strands of hair falling in front of his eyes, their silver glow complimented by the dim lighting of the bar. “I can do it for you,” he states confidently.

“I know you can,” I tell him, gently cupping his face in my hands. “I know you can but this is Tony we’re talking about. The guy’s got a temper and I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re far too valuable to me.”

“Dear Lord, can you be any more perfect? Please don’t flatter me like that, Y/N,” he sighs deeply, “If it weren’t for Steve, I’d fuck you right here right now,” he huffs boldly, leaning into my touch and closing his eyes for a split second before a confident grin tugs at his lips and an idea pops into his silly head, obviously lifting his spirits. “Maybe we can have a threesome?,” he snickers and I remove my hand from his cheek before connecting it with his face as I slap him out of his dreamy haze.

“We seriously gotta find you a lady friend,” I reply jokingly as he rubs his aching cheek, reddening in both pain and embarrassment. “Unfortunately everybody is already spoken for.”

“I did like Jess, you know, the girl that used to sing here. She had a nice pair of tits.”

“That’s all you men can think about, a nice pair of tits and a pussy.” Scowling, I get up from my seat, taking my empty glass with me over to where Sam’s waiting in front of the bar. It’s near closing time and he’s tapping the counter impatiently, always munching on those damn peanuts he can’t seem to get enough of. “Yeah, well, I didn’t like her. Good riddance if you ask me.”

“Boss,” Pietro says as he comes up next to me, leaning against the counter with a cocky nonchalance that suits him like a glove. “She was no match for you, she wasn’t nearly half as talented as you.”

“But you literally just told me you think she was pretty,” I retort, pulling out a couple ten dollar bills and handing them over to Sam who mutters a quiet thank you before disappearing in the back. Turning towards Pietro, I do not recognise the emotion behind his pale eyes, their grey as intriguing as always and brimming with childlike enthusiasm.

“Pretty, yes. But you are gorgeous, boss,” he smirks and I laugh at his compliment.

“Pietro,” I say as I roll my eyes, “You’re such a tease.”

“You love me for it. Besides, somebody has to remind you how fucking stunning you are, boss.” He offers me his arm and I gladly take him up on it, linking our arms as he escorts me outside.

We’ve barely made it outside as a black van pulls up the curb, the sliding doors opening in front of us and two men, equipped with heavy weaponry, pull out their guns and start shooting. Glass shatters all around us and Pietro pushes me away from the crossfire and onto the pavement. Screaming his name in anguish, Sam runs out of his bar and picks me up from where I’ve tumbled to the floor, cocking back his gun as he aims for the intruders.

“There’s a spare gun underneath the bar, go get it, boss,” he yells at me and I do as he tells me. Running inside the establishment, my hands skim the bottom of the counter before they touch the familiar curves of a sleek black Colt Paterson revolver. I check how many rounds there are left and am pleased to see all are accounted for.

“Nobody fucks around with me,” I growl before releasing the trigger and one of my bullets pierces the skull of the youngest shooter. His partner shoves his body onto the street and motions for the driver to get them the hell out of there, their job seemingly done. For now.

Tires speed off, scraping against the asphalt and screeching in our ears. “You motherfuckers,” Sam grunts as he fires another round of bullets in the general directions to where the assailants have driven off. I join his side and frantically look around for Pietro until my eyes land on a lifeless body slumped against the wall, a nasty pool of thick, red blood surrounding him like a halo from hell.

“NO!,” you cry out, rushing over to Pietro’s dead corpse and clutching him in your arms, not caring about the sticky liquid staining your legs and clothes. “No no no no…,” you whimper silently, “They killed my boy. My sweet, beautiful boy.”

A pair of strong arms roughly pulls you up from the ground, your hands reaching out to keep a hold on your friend’s body. “Y/N, we gotta get you outta here real fast. They might try something else, it’s not safe on the streets for you anymore. That was a calculated hit, you hear me?,” he shouts into your ears, shaking you until you come back to your senses.

Thick tears cascade down you cheeks, your jaw clenched in unseen anger. “They’ll pay for what they’ve done, Sam. Every last one of them.”

“I know, I know,” Sam shushes, leading you back to the bar where you’re at least sheltered from curious eyes, gathering on the streets after the initial shock has subsided, gasping at the massacre in front of them. “Let’s get you inside first. Want me to call Steve to pick you up?”

“Not Steve, Bucky, call Bucky,” you say adamantly. Sam guides you towards the nearest barstool and sits you down, holding your face in his hands as he gently forces you to look up into his dark eyes.

“Okay, I’ll call Bucky. Wait here.” You can hear him talking to Bucky on the other end of the phone and just before the line goes dead, he growls lowly at Bucky, insisting he does not inform Steve about this. “Boss gave her orders.”

Sam hands you a couple handkerchiefs to wipe away the blood and the tears and you smile up at him, grateful for such a good friend like Sam. “He’ll be here shortly,” he informs you and he pulls you in for a comforting hug, his earthy cologne soothing to your nerves.

“Sam, I can’t stay here, you know that. I can’t stand doin’ nothin’ but waitin’ around,” you grit your teeth and reach for the gun on the counter only for Sam to stop you and give you a pointed look.

“Don’t even think about going out there now, Y/N,” he warns, taking the gun himself and stuffing it between the waistband of his jeans. It’s still well within your reach but you know better than to mess with Sam as he knows it’s best not to mess with you.

“Those fuckers,” you breathe out sharply, “They fucking assassinated my Pietro and by all that is holy and all that is not, I am going to kill every last one of them.”

Part 5: the mayhem

@mellifluous-melodramas @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @shamvictoria11 @theoneandonlysaucymo @bovaria @marvel-lucy @marvel-ash @thedragonblood @movingonto-betterthings @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @marveliskindacool @redroomproperty @feelmyroarrrr @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @seargantbcky @seeyainanotherlifebrotha@meatballevan

[impracticaldemon]

Mirafreed Week 2017 Fanfiction Ch.4—Proposition & Proposal

Story ~ First Steps and Beyond ~ COMPLETE Prompts: Day 7—Happiness

Words: ~ 4000/15,700 (Chapter 4/Total) | AO3 | FF.net | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3

Summary:  This story takes place between the Battle for Fairy Tail and the Oracion Seis Arc, as timelines permit. Generally, the story follows the first steps of Freed’s and Mirajane’s efforts to forge a strong, intimate relationship. Moderate angst, relationship development, interactions with others and much sexy fluff (and a certain amount of frustration).  Chapter 4 concludes the story and is rated M for sexual content.

Rated: T+ for Chapters 1-3 & M for 4 (sexual content)

NOTE: I would like to dedicate this chapter to @nalufever and @furidojasutin for their encouragement throughout.  Thank you also to everyone who took the time to read, like, reblog and especially comment and review! Arigatou!

Chapter 4—First Steps: Proposition and Proposal Prompt: Happiness

[I] - Together

Freed was watching Mirajane through half-closed eyes, enjoying the sensation of being admired by the woman he most wanted to want him. Mirajane was stretched out across the length of his body, pressing him down into the soft dark leather of her living room couch. He knew without looking that right now her fingers were tracing the thin white lines of the scars that were scattered across his torso, most of them faint, a few new enough to be clearly visible. We take a lot of abuse as mages, he thought. It was a good thing that magical power also conferred a supernatural resistance to physical damage.

"I probably inflicted some of these," Mirajane murmured, obviously thinking of their vicious mid-air battle almost six months earlier.

In order to save her brother from Freed, she had transformed into her demon form, complete with claws that could easily rend simple cloth and flesh. Fortunately, Freed had assumed a demonic form as well in order to withstand her attacks. Though their abilities were not identical, they both relied on darkness magic for much of their power; consequently, they both understood the components of fear, pain and destruction in a more personal way than most of Fairy Tail's mages. Neither of them had walked away from the fight without injuries, but Freed's had been distinctly worse.

Freed was relieved when Mirajane didn't apologize for whatever damage she had done. He didn't want her to feel badly for using the only possible power at her disposal that could have stopped him from killing Elfman at the time. In fact, he didn't want her to feel ashamed or afraid of her Demon Soul magic at all; that would take time, but he fully intended to have that time with her.

Her hands on his chest—and shoulders and neck and especially his abdomen—left lines of energy that caused his skin to feel charged. It seemed to be how he perceived the contact between the semi-dormant magical power that infused both of them and loaned them the extra strength and resilience for which mages were known. Whatever the cause, it only added to his body's state of arousal. He wanted to feel her skin—her soft breasts, firm belly, strong legs—against his own very much.

"Freed?" Mirajane's voice recalled his wandering thoughts, the undercurrent of laughter indicating that she understood his lack of focus.

"I was just thinking that mages get hurt a lot—at least, those of us who take on the less ordinary missions."

"That more or less describes the job board at Fairy Tail," Mirajane pointed out, with a smile. "Are you saying that you're thinking about work right now?"

"No, I was watching—and appreciating—the way your hands touch my skin. The rest was inconsequential. To be perfectly honest, I was wondering how best to undress you."

"Oh."

Apparently, Mirajane could still be caught off-guard by directness from time to time. Freed watched a faint blush spread across her face—not for the first time that evening—and he wondered again how it was possible for a woman who read explicit romance novels (supposedly borrowed from Cana), and who posed in tiny bikinis for modelling jobs, to be this shy. It showed just how well she had isolated herself from any romantic or sexual attachments since taking on the role of Fairy Tail's hostess and perfect older-sister/mother figure. It had taken Freed quite a long time to realize that she constantly held people at a distance without seeming to.

He levered himself partly upright, so that his elbows, still trapped in the sleeves of his white shirt, were propped on the arm of the couch. Mira protested being moved, but although she was heavier than she looked (and much stronger), Freed had no difficulty shifting her so that she ended up kneeling across his thighs.

"You could help me with this shirt," he suggested.

"I could. You really do look ridiculously like a picture out of a magazine sold to panting fifteen-year-old girls."

"Well, if I have the misfortune to find myself on cheap lacrima crystals across Fiore I'll know who to blame," Freed replied mildly. "But are you sure that's what you want?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. I'd work out something much better staged and I wouldn't use cheap crystals."

Freed smiled to himself as Mira tugged first one and then the other of his shirtsleeves free. When the shirt slid to the floor, he paused to stretch and enjoy another kiss or two and then surprised Mira by gathering her up and standing. He was pleased that although he was definitely distracted, his usual coordination didn't fail him.

"Do you think I'd be worth the higher cost?" he inquired. "I do keep fit, at least."

"Ah… yes, I realize that." Mirajane's expression was a mixture of appreciative interest and the same apprehension that he had noticed earlier. "You're taking me upstairs to my room, aren't you?"

"Yes, unless you tell me not to. I am too much of a gentleman to take your dress off here, given that you have very little on underneath."

The lady in his arms laughed up at him. "I wouldn't describe your actions as gentlemanly, exactly, Freed!"

"No?" Freed slid one hand experimentally along Mira's leg. "Perhaps not. You have wonderful legs, by the way."

"Thank you," Mirajane replied demurely. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"You have the back room on the second floor overlooking the garden and the non-existent koi pond,"[1] her cavalier told her calmly, bending down to press his lips below her ear.

"I don't have a koi pond!"

"That's what I just said. On the other hand, you do have a garden and a fenced yard for the children, so the non-existence of the pond can be forgiven."

A half-open door exactly where he'd expected it led into Mirajane's room, and although he had distracted her with absurdities, he couldn't miss her sudden tension when he closed the door behind them and sat down on the edge of her bed with her still firmly held against his chest. The room looked right for her, somehow—all air and light wood and tidy spaces, and clearly feminine—but…

"You're going to have to tell me at some point, Mira," he said into the silky white hair not far from his face. "What's wrong? Nervous I can understand. But I don't think I've done anything to actually scare you, have I? I'm trusting you to let me know how you feel… I'm not perfect—not even close…" For the first time, he could hear frustration in his voice, and he stopped speaking, willing himself to wait.

The slim arms around his chest tightened and then relaxed. The face buried in his shoulder looked up, blue eyes anxious and resolute at the same time.

"I did… I did try to warn you. A little."

"That you might be a bit anxious—because the world has some expectations of you and maybe some double-standards. But that's not it." Damn, damn, damn… what's wrong? What did I miss? He wished that she didn't feel so warm against him, or smell so good. And it didn't help that she obviously wanted to touch him—the electric sensation still followed her hands across his skin.

"Freed… Can we try something?"

Mirajane stood up and he reluctantly let her go. To his surprise, she didn't move far, but she did tug open the bow at the back of her light summer dress.

"Don't say anything, just—trust me?"

Taking her at her word, Freed nodded, rather bewildered. A moment later Mira tugged the short dress over her head and stood there in almost non-existent, lacy white panties and a matching bra that was clearly more for show than support. It was testament to hormones and emotion over reason that the effect was both immediate and intense, even though he'd seen (and admittedly enjoyed seeing) her in almost as little before. Bra and panties joined the dress on the floor and Freed heard an odd noise between a plea and a moan escape his lips.

Fortunately, before he could completely embarrass himself by just dragging her onto the bed (or down onto the floor, either would do), Mira turned slowly once—show-off!—and landed lightly on the bed beside him. When he automatically twisted toward her, he found that she was already pulling his mouth down against hers, fingers winding tightly into looser hair at the base of his skull. Reason fled entirely for a while, as he ran one hand up and around her back and the other across one soft, perfect breast, caressing and teasing. He pressed her down against the thin, summer-weight blanket—white, everything was too white in here—and moved his mouth down to the nipple of the other breast. The sound she made as he tasted the pink skin with his tongue and then sucked more firmly with his lips and teeth conjured every erotic fantasy he'd had about the two of them and made him suddenly very, very aware that he was still half-dressed.

He lifted his head and actually cursed, and it was that together with a silvery—and completely breathless—chuckle that finally made him shake his head and focus his attention on the (very naked and absolutely gorgeous) woman lying half under him. He stared down at her, closed his eyes, opened them again, and managed a shaky laugh of his own.

"Show-off," he muttered, voice not quite steady.

"No, oh no, Freed, just… please don't be upset—"

"I'm not upset, except that I'm still dressed—"

"Let me help—"

"That's not a problem—trust me—you will definitely—help..."

Freed stripped out of pants and boxers with commendable speed and no assistance. He even paused to admire his lover when he was done. Mira stared back at him with frank interest and appreciation.

"Well?" he asked. "Will I do?"

"Yes, sorry—"

Freed silenced the unnecessary—and unwanted—apology with a passionate kiss, most of his body covering hers. His hands caressed her belly and hips and breasts, and his legs tangled themselves in hers. Eventually he moved his mouth back to her breasts, and this time his fingers found the springy curls below her navel and between her legs and explored the folds hidden underneath.

Mira whimpered and twitched as insistent, capable hands and mouth and tongue made love to her body. At some point she found Freed's mouth on hers again, and managed a faint, panting protest:

"You… said… I would… help…"

"Yes. Trust me. You're amazing." He kissed her neck, and pressed his weight against her, rocking his hips so that he was grinding his hard length against her wet, sensitive center. They were watching each other now from beneath half-closed lids, breathing unsteady, hearts pounding.

"I do trust you. And—" Mira moaned as calloused fingertips pinched the tip of her left breast. She pressed her hips upward, craving more sensation.

"And?"

"—You're better than the books…"

Freed managed a brief laugh that was more like a puff of air and tried to stop moving in order to concentrate on a lingering kiss. "Mira? Is now okay?"

"Yes—gods, yes, can't you tell?!"

He didn't bother answering. He didn't even mind that his care had been met with impatience—impatience was permission not to worry quite so much. With incredible relief and more force than he'd intended, he found her entrance and drove himself into her, eyes closed and his whole attention on the sensation. The incredible, almost painful, pleasure; the promise of better still. The sound of his lover, his, a dream made real. Her urgent cries drove him to move faster; her fingernails raking down his back made him gasp; her strong hips, rising hard against his, made him abandon all attempts at control.

Finally, finally, oh gods, finally… He thought he called her name, but he wasn't sure, the blood was deafening in his ears, his hands were on her hips, he convulsed, felt the heat and wet as he came, felt his lover's tightness around him shuddering, her hips still rising to meet his as he emptied himself into her. Then he brought his mouth and teeth down around one hard nipple, heard and felt her finally reach her climax, rocked with her, teased her through to the very end until they were both completely spent.

Time passed, and it occurred to Freed that he should move. He rolled to one side and lay there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the sweat finally starting to cool and evaporate from his body. His long fingers found Mirajane's and he moved a little closer, so that they were at least touching along the length of their bodies. It was very strange but he wasn't sure what to say.

"Thank you," Mirajane said softly.

Freed made a frustrated sound. "I'm—I don't quite know how to thank you. There aren't words good enough." He sent his eyes sideways and saw that Mira was smiling—that was a good thing. "You are an amazing lover, and if it doesn't kill me, I hope to repeat this experience for many, many years to come."

Predictably, Mira snickered. Freed smacked his forehead with his other hand. "I was trying to be serious," he pointed out.

"I know, I know, sorry." Mirajane shook her head at the ceiling, as if it was giving her grief. "I'm just… a bit overwhelmed now and a bit embarrassed about earlier."

"… Are you going to tell me why? What happened, I mean?"

"Yes. Don't interrupt."

"…"

"When I went through my rebel phase as the Demon—or whatever you want to call my horrible adolescence—I had a crush on a guy because I thought he was… exciting, I guess. Why anybody growing up at Fairy Tail would need more excitement is beyond me now." Mirajane sighed, and then relaxed her shoulders and cuddled closer to Freed. "He was a bit older than I was, which wasn't difficult since I was only sixteen. I agreed to sleep with him. It wasn't great—which isn't exactly uncommon—and it hurt a bit… but that wasn't the problem in itself. The problem was that when he hurt me—not on purpose, just because he was pretty young himself and a bit impatient—I…" She stopped abruptly, looked at Freed, and nodded her permission to speak in response to his obvious wish to help her finish the sad little story.

"You accidentally transformed and hurt him back?" His voice and eyes—both blue at the moment—were deeply sympathetic.

"It was awful. You can't—well, maybe you can imagine. I know you keep your eye covered for a reason—just in case. Anyway, he didn't die or anything, and fear of the guild—I mean, I was only just sixteen—meant that nobody involved spoke of it again. And also… I never told anyone exactly what happened, just that we were messing around. Most people didn't hear about any of it."

"So this evening you thought that if things didn't go well—"

"Just losing control scares me—"

"You were afraid that you would attack me?" Freed was watching Mirajane intently now, not a trace of amusement left on his face.

"Or that I'd transform and you'd be completely disgusted or freaked out."

"I wouldn't. First of all, your magic has never disgusted me or freaked me out—and I remember your Demon phase." He touched her cheek to make sure that she wouldn't look away. "Second, I love you and I trust you. Third, I'm very much in love with you. Fourth, I have a number of flaws, but I'm not a coward. Fifth, you are sexy either way."

"Freed."

"Look at me. You have to know that I'd never joke about your fears."

Somewhat reluctantly, Mirajane brought her eyes back to Freed. He was absolutely serious.

"You're… turned on? Really? That's just… I don't know, Freed… Really?"

"Really. Why not? Don't misunderstand me: I'd like to hurt the man who messed things up for you." There was nothing but menace in Freed's voice for a moment, but then he turned his full attention back to Mirajane. "I think you are beautiful in either form—any form—and one day I'll convince you of that. As I mentioned, I plan to spend a very long time with you."

"House, marriage, children?"

"Yes. If you'll have me."

Mirajane sat up so that she could look down at Freed. He returned her gaze steadily.

"You are one of the most fastidious men I know—maybe one of the only fastidious men I know—and you're proposing to me lying naked on my bed covered in sweat without even the energy to do more than turn your head?"

"I was just answering your question. I thought I would propose to you later. And I'm not all that tired anymore, either, I just like the possibilities of my current situation."

She didn't resist when Freed pulled her down on top of him and started running his tongue along her ear; as she had noted a few minutes earlier, he was unashamedly aroused again. The electric feeling of his skin against hers—of his contained magic against hers—made her nerves sing happily in anticipation.

[II] - Together Forever

It was much, much later in the evening—the middle of the night, in fact—when they walked back downstairs to the living room, sleepy, satisfied and even clean following (according to Mirajane) the most relaxing bath of all time. They had done nothing more than bathe, actually, and admire the marks left on each other's fair skin after their lovemaking.

"I wish you weren't going," Mirajane said drowsily, perched on the edge of one of the large, comfortable chairs, watching Freed button up his shirt. She was wearing a soft, kimono-style dressing gown and nothing else other than a towel wrapped around her hair. Freed had washed her hair and massaged her scalp; she was secretly longing to get to do the same for him.

"I'm glad. That means you will want to find a place together—here or elsewhere—just as quickly as I do."

"True." Mira sighed, but it was a contented, happy sigh. Aside from anything else—and that was saying quite a lot—it was good to have the worst of the secrets shared and to discover that while there was still some anxiety, the old fear of rejection had greatly diminished.

Freed put on but didn't button his vest. In the low-lit room, he looked even more unusual and elfin than ever. He walked over to kneel in front of Mirajane and smiled up at her.

"I was quite serious earlier, you know," he said.

"About which part? You seem to have been serious—to one degree or another—about everything you've said this evening."

He opened his left hand to reveal a silvery ring set with a shimmering, faceted dark blue stone.

"About proposing, of course. You didn't seem averse to the idea this morning, and I always intended to. Mirajane, you are the most beautiful person I know and I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Mirajane stared at him literally open-mouthed. Then she nodded her head violently, causing the towel to slide out of her hair and drop clumsily into her lap. She twisted her hands in it absently, tears visible at the edges of her eyes.

"You are—I mean, yes, I'd like that very much—but you are—" Words failed her, so Freed decided to cover the awkward moment by slipping the ring onto her finger and kissing her.

When that was done, he sat back on his heels, hands still holding hers, looking—

"… Smug! You look smug again!" Mirajane was laughing and sniffling slightly at the same time.

Freed smiled apologetically. "I really, truly can't help right now. If ever a man deserved to feel smug, I am that man."

"And your proposal was lovely but I was wearing a dressing gown! And I had a towel in my hair!"

"Yes. How could I resist? You looked stunning and adorable all at once."

"If you have an answer for everything for the rest of our lives together, then so help me I'm going to divorce you."

"Mira, think about it. You took your clothes off and I couldn't have constructed a complete sentence if my life had depended on it. Also… I do a lot of planning. You do as well, but you're also more adventurous. I am absolutely certain that I will be caught off guard countless times over the next several years. I mean, I have no idea how to cope with babies or young children, so I expect that will provide you with amusement."

Mira ran her fingers through Freed's long green bangs.

"Speaking of children… we didn't really talk about that, did we? I don't mean hypothetically, I mean, um, about tonight?"

Freed looked down, reddening.

"I did actually plan for that, too," he said, sounding embarrassed. "I think a lot about the different ways I can use my magic, you see. It's quite flexible as long as I have enough time to set the rules."

"Oh. That's good then." Mirajane's tone was ambivalent.

"Ah, well, the problem is that I got distracted and,"—he bowed his head even further—"the truth is that I forgot. I'm very, very sorry. I've tried hard to make sure that any important decisions were choices that we made together."

"Ha! So there is one thing that didn't go according to your plan! Thank goodness! I feel strangely relieved, to be honest."

Freed's head jerked up. "You're relieved that you might be pregnant?"

"No! You know what I mean!" Mirajane whacked him lightly with the damp towel. "You're human! That's definitely a good thing."

"You know, Ever and Bix occasionally have the same reaction when I make a mistake."

"For once, I sympathize entirely with them. So… we're going to get married? And this ring is so pretty and I haven't even thanked you!"

"You could thank me properly tomorrow," Freed suggested.

"I suppose that's one way to drive my brother out of this house. He'll probably go back to the guildhall just in case of the possibility of walking in on something…"

Freed stood up, pulling his fiancée to her feet. "We can talk it over tomorrow at tea." He kissed her, quietly exulting in the happy excitement on her face.

They walked hand-in-hand to the front door.

"I'm curious about one thing, though," said Mirajane thoughtfully, as they kissed each other goodnight.

"You want to know why I didn't just propose earlier, or at dinner, if I had the ring with me all along?"

"Yes. But"—Mirajane held up her hand to forestall his answer—"thinking about it now, I understand. It's all part of the same thing, isn't it?"

Freed nodded. "No threats, no bribes, no perception of entitlement—free choice and responsibility are very important to me."

"I can live with that."

"You've already agreed to."

Mirajane rolled her eyes. "You are so—"

"—Smug, I know. "

They grinned foolishly at each other. Eventually, they managed to exchange sufficient farewells to make parting a little easier. Freed walked off toward his usual home with his team, humming slightly, while Mirajane closed the door and went upstairs to plan how to announce things to friends and especially family. She couldn't quite stop smiling.

Outside, a very large, white-haired figure strolled across the road, leaving the black shadows of his temporary hiding place behind and grateful that they'd finally stopped necking in the doorway. Dark bruises running along both sides of his neck and down below his collar suggested that it had been a good night for the Strauss family all around.

"Oh well," Elfman muttered to himself as he unlocked the front door to the house. "At least I get to jump on the pieces if that green-haired bastard does anything to hurt her."

Thus reassured—somewhat—he turned in for the night as well.

[END]

*[1] See chapter 3.

Author’s NOTE: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, comment and review. I hope that the characters as presented have been interesting, or maybe been shown from a different angle, but still stayed true to key elements from Fairy Tail as a whole. \(^u^)/ 

If you have a moment, please review/comment on this chapter or on the story as a whole! Your support is greatly appreciated.

[safrona-shadowsun]

In Deep Shhh...

Part 4

The Rat Trap Chronicles : Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

{ A collaborative story between myself, @loveherdekay, @hmratking and @singinglockpick. This story takes place a month before the switching of Dalaran’s hands, as the Legion’s invasions just begin to unfold across Azeroth, eventually leading to the later purge of the Rat Kingdom from the Underbelly. }

“Don’t say anything stupid…” a soft voice whispered in the elf’s ear and if she managed to catch a glimpse of the one who spoke, the Courier would see a blue skinned woman walking away from her.

“She’s secure, my King,” Sarinna called out as she walked toward him. The King smiled and took slow steps toward the Courier. He knelt beside her, grasping her face in his claw.

“Welcome back to my home, my pet. Take a look. Is it exactly as you remember it? We did get some more blood on the walls, you know, to spice up the place.” The King chuckled but noticed she was still dazed. That was not appropriate. “Enough of this bullshit.” He swung his arm and slapped the woman once and hard before rising. “I’m already bored.” He walked back to the shanty and sighed. It wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. “Get up and look at me before I have them strip you and drag you to the bordello.”

Mora twitched when he slapped the Courier, a wide smile to the hit. Not because it was her he was hitting.. Mora just thought anyone getting smacked awake as funny in a fucked up way. She stepped back and out of the way, dragging Sparky's arm with her so that he was close by, her other hand covering her mouth in a light laugh. "Do not go far..." she said in a hushed tone to Sparky so that only he would hear.

Ear still twitching at the echo of Sarinna's whispered warning, the stinging slap was the wake-up call that brought Safrona to some soberness, knocked so easily to the stench of the floors of the sewer with the weight of the chains aiding her fall. Eventually scraping herself up to her feet, she took a stare of familiar faces, lingering on Mora and Sparky with an exhale, before her eyes moved on to Melaeth himself. Her smile was bitter on her lips, defiant eyes striking through to the soul of the Rat King. But her voice was cool silk, a pleasant touch to the ears. "If I knew I was coming to entertain, I would have brought more wine. Ah, but it has been such a long, long time. I thought such a King would have forgotten a simple courier."

Her eyes went hard on the collection of Rats around her. "You do have so many subjects already..."

She scrunched up her shoulders, hands giving a little wave to Saf. She had nothing against the Courier in any way: it was just business. Mora took a claw and pointed to her own chin with a smile. 'Chin up, chin up' she seemed to mime.

“No one here wants your piss in a bottle.” The Rat King turned to look at her. “Forget you? You got my attention, my pet. And those who get my attention don’t walk away from me!” He paused and chuckled coldly as he looked at the Courier. “And why, exactly, did you not come see me, hm? Is it because you haven’t been sent by that pathetic pirate you were working for? He’s trouble, you know. Bad choice in ‘friends’. However, with me, you will be famous, pet. You will be in high demand and in time, you will run my bordello.”

He approached her once more and grabbed the chain to the shackle around her neck. He jerked it and watched her head move from side to side. “I”ll put your worthless ass for sale and trust me, you will be requested by all the fucking hungry mages up there and they will use you over and over until they are done. And I will get paid. And you will stay there until I find you a waste of my fucking time!” The King pulled her head close to his. “I can’t wait to see what they say and do to you. You, my dear pet, will bring me all the gold I could possibly want, you whore.”

The King then licked her cheek and laughed in her ear. “Because now you’re mine, bitch,” he muttered.

The lengthy lick that slathered her cheek made the captured Courier clench her jaw with disgust, instinctively trying to tug away. The chains did not permit her to move far though, and so she suffered the indecency with a slow shut of her eyes. She hated him, truly.

The Rat King reminded her of unworthy faces of her past, ugly souls that were as twisted as the demons she had enslaved. While his Ratz stood in fear or awe of their Majesty, she saw only a rotted soul within a sack of pretty flesh. There was a twang of pity for such a sight, wondering what the world had taught him to twist him into something so uselessly cruel. The pity did not last.

'Worthless. Whore.' His words echoed in her mind, familar words that rung with the long lost sussuruss of equal, evil repute. And her fingers clenched with the need to rip his soul from his offending mouth, shredding it into dust as she had done the last that taught her how to hate. Not here. Not now, she thought to herself. There were better ways to humble a King.

And of course, she did want to rise from this alive. She was not ready for the Dark to take her yet.

Though her face had been as stone, her skin had been unnaturally hot against the Rat King's tongue, a heat that also had settled dangerously in her eyes as they flicked back up at him. "As I have detailed before, these are not services that I provide. I likely would be a rather unhealthy addition for your people, I am sure. But I have...other avenues, options to offer, if you are going to insist on wordly pleasures."

Reality shivered next to the Rat King, a cloven-hooved vixen unphasing from the shadows, slipping in next to the chained elf. Leathery wings twitching with an interest at the scenery, and perhaps just a touch amused, the succubus traced her talons along the cinched whip at her side, ready to act on command. The courier had secrets, and the Rat King had pulled one from her.

"The succubus is talented in seduction, in torment, in causing chaos...or distraction, and at my command perhaps she would serve you better than myself?" The elf muttered through a hard smile. "Compared to such a worthless courier, perhaps you might find a demon more...worthwhile."

Elernia rose an eyebrow at her Mistress, cueing that red, wicked smile.

The courier’s words were boring him although she said very little. Every single syllable was another invitation for him to reach out to hurt her once more, especially her insistence on not working the brothel, but rather other enticing ideas. He was ready to hit her once more when he felt the creature’s presence near him. He gasped and stepped back, grimacing as he stared at the winged demon in curiosity.

The surrounding Ratz, particularly the inner circle, stared at this creature closely, their hands reaching for their weapons if only to protect their King if necessary. The only one who wasn’t as serious as the others was the Flea, who chuckled softly at the sight. Oh, this was more than entertaining to him.

As the Courier offered her services, the King’s red-tinted green eyes slowly shifted toward her. “Magic user? You’re a fucking magic user?!” He was close to screaming and he was between anger and delirium. For a moment, he considered releasing her and taking that offer, but it wouldn’t be that easy. He looked at the succubus and said, “Doll, is there anyway you can control this thing? Or do I need this bitch to manipulate it?” He smirked a little at the winking succubus.

Sparky turned to look at Mora, curious as to what the King had in mind, if he had anything planned at all.

Mora was busy making sure Sparky didn't step out of line or do anything silly, perhaps it was because she felt he might be the only one in the entire sewer that at the very least did not hate her. She looked up slowly as Ratty asked her about the Demon. The runes in her eyes seem to glow dimly as she 'looked' over the succubus and moments after smiled.

"No...this one has entered a strong pact with Tasty face over here... Unless she breaks that contact or is killed...this demon works for her.." her fingers curled and uncurled as she paused and spoke to the demon in what might have seemed like horrible gibberish to the others carefully asking it if there was any sort of higher price it might take in exchange for not listening to the Courier...demons were demons after all. Though she did not expect it to be that easy. "You are better off sending it back to where it came from...if you can..." she last said in a sing song voice, knowing Ratty was not going to be pleased.

The succubus grinned wide, relishing the attention given, starved of it by her own warlock. Safrona watched with a hard stare as her own demon swayed close to Mora, reaching with a scintillating caress of those taloned fingers. "Such beautiful, deadly creatures, here. Just like old times...oh the Mistress and I have had such times.." A seductive slide against the Forsaken, and the succubus snapped her teeth playfully at Mora's face before moving away.

"A strong pact, yes. And I know my Mistress so well. And she is so much more than what she seems. She hides herself so well, what she is, who...she is." Her voice was the finger than ran down so many spines, even as she slid those taloned fingers with dark affection down her Mistress' long braid. The elf tried to pull away from the touch, but did not get far, of course. She was livid at her demon's indiscretion.

The demon approached the Rat King now, running her touch now down his arm in admiration. "Or maybe my Pretty has just forgotten who she is? Forgotten the chaos that burns in you? She thinks she's above it, haha..." Perching her chin on Melaeth's shoulder, her taloned fingers roamed up his back temptuously as she stared at the chained warlock. "She would kill everyone you sent to bed her. That is the monster that she is, that is her hunger. That is why she offers me up in her stead. But...maybe that is what she needs, sweetling." A wicked grin glanced his long ear. "My Mistress loses her power day by day in her monotony. Can a King help guide her back to the bedlam that she was? To be proud of? It would be fun to try, I think. Some things just need to be broken."

It seemed the demon was willing to betray her Mistress, in order to help her be molded into what she saw fit of a warlock...

Mora smiled before the demon was done, and was laughing, all riled up at the eager betrayal the demon gave. She pulled on Sparky's hand with child-like excitement. " YOUR OWN Demon gives you up!" she cackled more as she half screamed the words out in between her glee. " You have neglected your only ally! Your own safety net has frayed because...because why??" She tilted her head with those wild hollowed eyes and the question was one she would mull over. She might not have had the ability to control the demon that was bound to the Courier but it was still a demon and Mora was anything but weak when it came to wrangling them in, and this one was working that charm, she wondered if the King could feel it.

Safrona had nothing but a glare for the other red-haired warlock as she shrieked laughter, no explanation given. Wordlessly turning her gaze back to the Rat King and her succubus, she locked eyes with Elernia. The demon was rebellious, and her power over her dark menagerie had started to slip with the application of the limiting runes burned into her own body, but she would be damned if that demon wasn't still hers. With the succubus so close to the bastard, she silently mulled over ways she could turn her current situation into an advantage...

Sparky was tugged about from side to side, up and down and his eyes widened at how excited Mora seemed. He looked at the Rat King, who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off this demon. He had something in mind, but he was definitely distracted. A brief chortle escaped the Flea’s lips and Sparky sighed. All he had was standing by Mora’s side, and he intended to.

The King listen to the succubus and he touched her neck as she touched his arm. “Is that so, hm?” For a brief moment, he turned to Safrona and smiled. “I didn’t know you were so vicious with magic. And here I thought all you were good for was fucking.” He laughed loudly, which led to other Ratz laughing along with their ruler. He turned to look at Mora and he smiled at her, enjoying her joyful prance, even though she was unable to control another’s demon. It was then that it clicked: he was dying for a magic duel and here he had two insane women with magical powers he was eager to explore. However, that thought was brief when he saw the succubus again.

Sarinna turned to Teriaan, eyes rolling, and Teriaan smiled, walking toward the King and the demon. “My King, I will slice this demon in half if she continues to keep her hands on you.” The dark haired elf nodded at the succubus. “Hands off the King. Now.”

Some clarity returned to the King and he looked at Safrona. He swaggered toward her and keeping his distance, he knelt and looked at her, one hand on his chin. “How about you show me what you can do, my pet? If I’m entertained, I may extend the invitation to something other than my bordello. I can help you free yourself from these restraints you have. But if I’m not, I’ll sell you to the highest bidder and let them do whatever they wish with you. I’m sure you would make someone very happy…over, and over, and over again.” He grinned, his sharpened teeth fully visible and mocking.

“Doll!” He called out, rising off the ground. “I expect you to be better than this bitch, or she’s taking your place and I’m sending you back to where you belong.” He began to walk back to the shanty, rather proud of himself. He looked at the succubus. “It’s a shame you can’t stay. You’d fit right in, pet.”

The succubus wriggled teasingly at the King as he lamented over her, blowing a little kiss perhaps just to provoke the dark-haired elf's jealousies. Safrona was having little of it though, irked as she had become. A hiss of esoteric demonic from the warlock's lips...and nothing! It was clear the manacles she wore had somehow blocked her usage of magic, and maybe even dulled the connection she had to her demons. The demon whore would have to continue existing, for now. Perhaps in the end though, it was all the part the succubus had to play, searching for the right moment to manipulate, to react. Elernia had been too long hers to completely disobey...the warlock hoped. If she was doomed, so was the succubus! The narrowed gaze she had focused on the King had traveled back to Mora, until she sighed.

"What does he mean, back to where you belong? Is he your master, Scarlet?" she spoke to the Forsaken she'd been assigned to 'prove' herself against. It was in the slippery tongue of Demonic she spoke only so that she could understand. "That is a little disappointing. You know as well as I that a warlock is her own master..."

Mora had stopped laughing with a sneer already placed as ratty boasted out his threat, her claws letting go of Sparky's arm as she gave him a look too as if he was in on this power display with the king. She swayed her head to toss long strands of red behind her as the couriers demonic language stung her ears , she smiled again although is was riddled with jagged teeth

”He is not, not in the way you would think, don't presume to know my relationships – beautiful tasty face- things are more complicated then his want of your magic or flesh.” She gave the bound up woman a rise of her shoulders as if to say 'What can I do?' , followed too closely by a cackle. Looking back to Ratty, her lip turned up once again, “And what would you have me do.. O KING...?” She pulled a charred scroll piece from some pocket of her body and placed it on the ground , resting the tip of her pointed heel on it, as she faced back to the bound woman ” It really is funny the way things end up. Dont you think?..I did enjoy our time,” she guttarally coo'ed out. “But now? Now, we must be other things.”  

She was not sure what the King expected her to do but knowing him, it wasn't just a slap on the hand. The petite warlock started off small, and with slightly above whisper incantations, black, oily looking clouds began to form from under the bound woman, wrapping its way around Saf's form until it penetrated any open hole on her head. The Courier would know immediately it was a curse of fear, as the world around her begin to distort and objects and people took on a more horrific tone. Even if she knew that was what was happening it would be hard to fight off the feeling of terror that it produced. It was just the start of all fun things to come.

Seeing that the undead woman was about to cast, the Flea chuckled to himself, removing the anti-magic wards in the chamber so that she could begin. Sparky, on the other hand, felt somewhat frightened that she was going to start bitching at him, but once she was on her way toward the woman in the center, he brushed it off.

Hearing her commentary, the Rat King folded his arms and smirked, “I would have you do your worse, my Doll.” The idea of seeing magic pitted against magic excited him and he couldn’t wait to see her begin. When the dark slithering spells began, he seemed to take a step back, still holding his pose. He turned to Teriaan and said, “Let’s see what they can do and if we have to release that bitch to get a better show, so be it.”

“But my King,” Teriaan began, but the King’s eyes slowly fell upon the dark haired elf, so he simply nodded and turned to look at the two crazy women.

“Make me proud, Doll…” he shouted.

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (6/8) “Queer Voices”

Summary: Remy has a lazy day after his hard and long day at work. Virgil is very glad to be with him and comment on his shenanigans as much as a cat can.

Tags: human = slave for a cat, mentions of pets eating humans, mentions of cat scratches, Remy going worst case scenario of “lmao cat might kill me”, mentions of blood, wtf remy seriously, criticising the world, hating on rich people, fuck reality tv, remy has weird thoughts, migraines, chronic pain gang, medication-induced dummy thoughts, questioning the world, microphones, singing, weird echo distortion, auditive triggers (described), eating, silly dummy, soft cat shenanigans, remy is a soft owner

 I do not think there is any to be applied. If you need me to add anything, please contact me here or on my tumblr (spacegayparty, spacegaywritings)

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 (you are here) / 7 / 8.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Remy flopped his body back down onto the couch. He had just about left his bed and done the most essential actions to start a day.

 “Virgilius kitty catticus”, he called lowly, laying flat on the couch.

 His legs were sprawled out like the seductive lover in a peculiar pose... or any liquid simply taking up as much space as they could. Yeah, he classified to be the latter, if any. This was to put it nicely. He did not look loving or seductive at all. His body was about as tempting as a greased bucket of expired fat for frying fries. For a more trained eye, he might have resembles a starfish with his limbs facing away from him and stretching wide and far into the world as if to get as much exposure to air and light as possible. Maybe he was some kind of starfish-lover-grease-plant.

 Yes, he was a really super special plant and he shall live like this!

Immobile, comfortable, unfit for work and cared for by nature only. Not to speak of how he refused to care for anything and anyone either.

Didn’t everyone aspire to be a nice house plant? Like a house cat! Now he and Virgil could be more than friends - bestest friends... perhaps even bitches in crime.

 They would absolutely trash the household by demanding a lot of care and just throwing out some dirt. If he was a plant with mobile or flexible limbs under his control, he could knock things from counters like the void did. Remy definitely learned how much cats seemed to enjoy playing into gravity’s power. Virgil was a never-ending source of knocking random things off the counter, off the shelves and tables and whatever else they could find.

 “Virgiiiiiil~”

 Remy had accepted his fate: he was hosting a little demon kitten, a spoiled mini Queen expecting royal treatment when he was just a humble worker who bitched at idiotic people.

Why, oh why-

As he laid there, drama overcoming him, existential dread rumbled in his guts. The hunger from going without sustenance for a whole night consumed his being, Virgil finally made their way over to them and decided to give him a lovely greeting. His migraine-ridden head was met with the sudden impact of a whole furry kitty skull just crashing against it.

 Instantly, pain exploded in his mind, his brain pressing against his skull from the inside and pounding wildly. Throbbing agony painted his features and he groaned, his face distorting to present the mask of a broken man, hopeless for any improvement. It was not that the area Virgil had bonked their head against was hurting more. No, it was like touching a bubble and destroying the whole of it in the process.

 “Ughh...”

 His voice was tired and, his brows heavy and lethargic from the constant anguish pushing him into the ground. At the same time, his head felt detached from reality. It was an unreal experience.

The pain was present, persistent and heavy on him as it crushed his appetite. While his body demanded food, it also demanded him to stay off any intake of nutritions via mouth. Nausea washed over him and he felt warm , uncomfortably hot even. Sweat seemed to break over his miserable, physical vessel and he pressed his lips together in regret, not even daring to think about opening it. He felt feverish but knew he was not. He had tested it several times.

 He had to stop thinking.

Thinking hurt.

 “ d’s hur’s...”, he mumbled incoherently.

 Neither his head nor his lips wanted to do the talking at the moment. Sounds hurt, too.

 The man wanted to tell the little bitchy kitten that head bonks - while affectionate - were painful when he had bad migraines. He wanted to explain himself to the little creature who would just meet his torture with the inability to understand him. Even if the kitty tried, they would be unable to ever understand his words as he meant them. Virgil learned by context.

 Realising the kitten got no head pats in return or any other sorts of physical affection, the little void pawed at his face and gently nudged their head against Remy’s once more.

It was gentle, this time.

 “Mrow!”, the cat argued.

 Remy wanted to shake his head but feared the nausea would become even worse. The little soft nudge was.. endearing. The tender displays of affection did not heal him but it helped, it eased him. It was nice to know the kitten did not understand but still reacted to him, still cared and was there at once when he decided to call for them.

 Remy was brave enough to swallow his nausea. He shifted experimentally.

 Huh.. fine. It was kinda fine, right now.

 The nausea was just out of reach and he took the chance to quickly shift to his side and turn his whole body over. Remy gently patted the couch and patiently waited for the little kitten to follow him. His face was in the same space, just facing the other side.

 He was unusually off-fashion. His boxers were basically all his pyjamas, his shirt was a loose shirt from the women’s section. It was barely gracing over his features, loosely falling onto his skin.

Listen, he looked especially pretty with his hips showing a bit.

 “Huhww...”, he whined in pain.

 HIs eyes shut automatically. It was good that eyes had the reactive mechanism of closing when light hurt too much. With the little bits of light that intruded home shut out , he curled further around the kitten. Virgil gently nudged his chin and stretched into his arms. Pushing the little head into his palm, they received little head scritches once more and he gently caressed the kitten’s small chin.

 His pain killers should kick in soon. He was so glad that special medication for migraines existed... if he was lucky, they would just knock him out and he would wake up in a bit, lacking pain and nausea at all and feeling so much better. One day, he wanted to feel like a person would feel when waking up in the morning: free, fresh and ready to seize the day.

 Remy soon drifted off to sleep. The comforting feeling of his Queen of Salt tapping his hip bones was one of the most assuring actions one had ever performed on him. They curled up in his arms, right next to him. In solidarity to one another, the two eventually drifted into a respectful and hopefully healing nap.

 A few hours passed and magically, Remy woke up. His body was heavy and his energy levels ran low. Instinctively, he rolled onto his side and rubbed his eyes.

 The process was.. not just as smooth.

As he started to roll over, a little resistance could be felt next to him and he felt the intense heat on his chest suddenly be exposed to the much cooler air around him.

 Remy’s head was still heavy when he turned and he could feel his mind draw a painfully sneaking blank. Thinking was a drop-by-drop process compared to quickly pouring liquid from one into another container. But when he blinked, looking around and not seeing the familiar Overlord of Darkness, he knew there was a problem.

 Oh- Oh, Virgil.

  “aw.. sorry Virg”, he mumbled.

 St once, he moved off the squeaking kitty and sighed. Holy fuckery, he was more than glad he had not tried to roll over the kitten. This could have ended in the worst possible ways. Surprised at himself, he blinked.The kitten complained and nastily pushed their tail into his face in revenge. Yeah, the one and only Queen of Salt was right then and there. If they acted like this, they were obviously all up and healthy.

 Oh, and would you look at this. His nausea was almost entirely gone. The rest persisting in his throat and stomach was probably the greedy claw of hunger.

 Cat + pain-free state = happy Remy.

 “Aw, kitty”, Remy cooed and gently pulled the crabby bean into his arms, cradling them close.

 Virgil meowed in protest but it was a formality rather than a wish. When Remy got up, they decided to stay put and curl up against his chest once more, the inviting warmth winning over even the the charcoal grumpy cat. If they had been truly enraged about him squeezing them by accident, they would have given Remy an actual taste of pain.

 “Meow”, they mumbled in return and Remy kissed their head.

 “Yeah, sorry for the wait. You and I are getting food right now”

 He carefully got up, minding his step and circulation as he made his way into the kitchen with calculated movements. Whenever he got a bit further, he identified the next space he could lean against or a corner he could slide down from. Just in case his body was “too weak” and prissy with him to make it over to the kitchen and stay loyal to him while making a meal.

 Remy should get a walking stick.

 Eventually, he got over, took his supplements to further ward off migraines, dizzy spells and many other issues his existence was pained with. Cramps and muscle twitches. Those were those bitches!

 Virgil was down at his feet, not daring to wander the counters when he would cook. They knew better than to do so. The kitchen was basically off-limits for feral cat shenanigans of jumping and dumping anything they would find interest in.

 Within a few minutes, Remy and Virgil were snuggled up on the couch, lazy breakfast in his hands and kitten sprawled over his leg, nibbling at a little snack he had gifted them.. well, as a treat. Also, the cat just needed to eat, okay? The cat was contently purring on his leg, basically massaging it with the stubborn vibrations radiating off of them. They were happily chewing on a bit of meat Remy had placed on a napkin for them. He himself was stretched out under a thin yet fluffy blanket, as black as his soul. With that, he meant that it was a dark, shimmery blue that looked almost as dark as raven yet shone like charcoal and reflected the light blue-ly enough for him to call it blue. Every now and then, it would look like a cave of darkness when from other angles, it would look like a mysterious shade of blue.

A bit like the vast universe.

 The official cat owner pushed his eggs aside with his fork and let said cutlery rest abandoned on his plate as he finally gave up on eating. This whole breakfast thing might not have been exactly his type of life.

Eating at 11 am was... illegal. Too early. A true abomination. Who would do anything like this? What kinda fucking bitch even invented this sort of activity? This was torture, not a fucking luxury!

 Mornings were there to either work or sleep forever.

 Remy groaned.

 Virgil seemed to have passed out on his left thigh, a whole bundle of raven fur curled up next to him and halfway covering up his own body - even warming it. This cat was probably the only person he ever wanted to see in the morning. Or even interact with.

 Yeah, fuck everyone and everything else. It was “No social, only Virgil” - his new life motto.

 Seriously, now. This little monster was probably the only creature allowed to breathe around him during mornings. He detested mornings but during migraine days, he could not bear to be existent - oh, this was another level of hatred he bore in his angy heart.

 Mornings were the worst because he had to take medication, sleep away half the day and then still be in at least a bit of pain. Yet the idea of Virgil lazily purring on him without annoying him, without demanding attention or needing anything? Now this was true luxury if he ever knew any! Being himself was already a luxury and he paid a lot for it with sweat, pain and an angelic patience to never spill scalding hot coffee over other people when they dared to annoy him during his most painful episodes.

 Remy pushed his food away, plate immediately deserted on the other side of the couch. If he dared to as much as move a bit more to the front, he would have to lean in closer and move his upper body. This was too much work. Cancelled.

With Virgil cuddled up on his thigh, head literally resting close to his hip, he would quite frankly crush the little kitten or trap them at the very least. He did not want to disturb or even hurt the little void. Come to think of it, he could not stand the thought of it even in the slightest. The little beast getting hurt was also illegal. This was his favourite bitch and he would not just let them get hurt. Under no circumstances, especially if he could prevent it by any means.

 His body curled around the little blob of black as if they were about to get hurt and only their close physical contact was able to save them both from tremendous trouble. Remy shielded the little spark of joy in his life.

However, the kitten was about as sympathetic as always and grumbled in response.

 “Meow!”

 Virgil looked at him. Remy blinked back, dace unmoving.

 “Shut up, I am loving you right this fuck.. the.-...the f u ck now.”

 He cleared his throat and, again, blinked back at the Queen of Salt who slowly blinked at him. They pushed Remy’s annoying appendages away and nudged themself into a more comfortable position within their owner’s arms. Once completely satisfied, the cat continued purring like the motor they were.

 “There you go, sassy snitch.”

 The tired man commented, a small chuckle erupting from his throat. A warmth started spreading in his chest again, filling him from the inside. Virgil fuelled themself with their persistent purrs in order to produce more and more heat and vibrations.

This was a circle of heaven.

On one hand, it was a bit like rich people going to these fancy salons so they would look a bit less shit and also much more artificial. Somehow it was a big fucking trend for some fashion victims to look the least human possible and resemble plastic more than anything else. That or maybe some horror creatures.

Remy had no more than cynical eyebrow raises left when he saw shows coming up that presented these people like on a plate of food. Dehumanising, really. Society made people hate themselves for being people and looking like fucking people. As if anything about mean, horrifying mask faces were anything people wanted to see or talk about. The viewers were probably all thirsting after a big old cup of tea because they would definitely not get a tall glass of water in these trying times of reality TV or whatever this bitchy excuse of bullshit was called.

 “Meow.”

 “Yes, Virgil, Totally think so, too.”

 This, this was it. Those interactions were all he needed to make him feel... complete. He felt.. rich but in the more sensible and less extremely insane way. He was not materially watch. Ha, suck it “Material Girl”. No, he was emotionally enriched by Virgil’s presence. It was another kind of fancy and luxurious since it pleased his soul rather than his need to be loved by others. He was blessed and warmed with the love and closeness of a little creature that enjoyed him being around.

Somewhat at least.

 “I love you, little kitty cat. You are the right kinda bitch.”

 Okay, LISTEN. Virgil did not try to eat him in his sleep yet so he might was well consider them best buddies, given that the cat had so many opportunities to slice him open and drink his blood until he was dead and the little hellspawn was satisfied but instead they were simply cuddling up to him all the time. Maybe they were just tolerating him but they were doing a pretty good job and pretending to care about his ass whenever he was not moving a lot or literally suffered greatly.

 Virgil turned to him, blinking ever so slowly, “mrow?”

 Yeah, that was all the evidence needed. Virgil loved him and he deserved it because he was a truly rich bitch who worked for his shit and did not try to look like plastic or be scary. Wow, rich people were so scary with their weird needs and urges and deeds... He would never get over plastic faces and that was his last word on this topic. This sudden realisation kinda hit him hard. Like, even in that slow, numbed and dull conscious, he saw the dots, observed the connections and got to a surprising conclusion of people being plastic and this being very weird.

Striking thoughts, clearly. Or maybe he was just being ..confused..Uh, what was he thinking about? Oh man.. It felt like he has had a major mental break through about whatnot - maybe, Kim Kardashian’s ass and how he can achieve his butt to be just as thicc.

 The man shook his head, letting all the confusing thoughts leave his head. He shook them off like the wetness of an umbrella after coming in from a rainy day. Outside, the world was pretty silent and not a single sound other than Virgil’s sing-song purrs lulling him into comfort could be heard. He was a chronic pain bitch, he made sure to never have too many sounds around which was why his hobbies were silent and boring, mostly.

 Still, Virgil loved him. They really did because they bonked their head against Remy’s hip bone, once more. There was no pain, only ore head scritches for the little kitty.

He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. It smelled of love, of warmth and hugs. How were these valid scents? Because he smelled them, honey, that is literally all it needed to qualify.

 “You are perfect, little kitty.”

 The two cuddled for a bit longer, Remy’s thoughts drifting slowly. His mind was on a ride on one of these slow merry-go-rounds. It was delirious, magical. Thoughts brushed over him like a breeze, one after the other passing him and tickling his imagination until one would stick with him for long enough. Instead of just passing by, it was more like bumping him and making him look at this thought content in particular. 

 Music.

For some reason, the idea of nice calming melody was the worst to ever happen to him but maybe a peppy song would get his spirits back up and work down the soreness from being stuck in a morning, still. The idea was so alluring, he felt his heart beat in excitement.

Virgil rose their head.

Remy cradled them close, picking them up and settling them on his chest. Arms were still wrapped around the little void.

 Instinctively, he got up, his body sweeping over the floor. His toes were numb to the feeling of the ground and his mind saw nothing but his task. As always, the warmth of the void was close to his chest and keeping him warm as the loyal little disaster they were. They curiously looked around as the flat passed by him. It was so natural for them to be close and go to any place together, Remy felt as if their auras would melt together.

 “Meow?”, the cat inquired curiously.

 There was such an innocence in their deeds. Apparently, they realised a bit of a change at the very least. They looked over his shoulder as they only ever did when they just arrived here for the first time. Or, well, would be new to any other area they went to together. Virgil knew where they were but something about Remy’s actions seemed to spark a sense of novelty.

The cat meowed again, a larger chunk of excitement swinging in their voice as Remy did not acknowledge the first attempt at communication they had proposed.

 “Meow!”

 The persistent meowing grabbed the determined man’s attention and Remy settled in his room, in front of a box, little charcoal monster in his lap.

 “What do you want, Queen? Is my body not soft enough for your royal ass?”, he teased softly as one of his hands settled on their head.

 Fingers entangled in the fur and gently scritched the areas around their ears.

Virgil leaned in. Their head rested in his hand and they simply relished in the soft touches and rewarded their obedient owner with a low purr.

 “Oh, what is that? Are you happy now? Are you happy, now that I give you more attention?”, Remy asked softly, his voice prickling in amusement yet being overall subtle rather than pushy, “You are just the best little kitty, V.”

 “Memrrroww!”

 Remy got lost in the little void looking up at him, neck craning to accommodate the new angle. They blinked ever so slowly. A snail would move faster from one end of the street to another than Virgil would when taking the time to blink at him. It was sort of amusing, really. Remy read it was some kind of display of affection. It was endearing for sure. The owner knew because Virgil’s snuggling up to his palm and purring out “meow”s was something to make his heart feel.. warm and.. and right in his chest.

 Things felt right.

 Then it occurred to him.

The box.

He had come here for a reason, not for nothing. There was a sense of determination lighting up his heart just as much as his love for the little bundle of black salt in his lap.

 His unoccupied hand carefully lifted the box’s lid and let it slide down until it arrived on the ground with a dull sound. At once, the vibrations in the air ceased, the soft sounds of purring abruptly stopping as if the internal cat programme to keep it running crashed and failed to recover. The kitten moved its head to follow the sudden intrusion of the sound. Their ears were up, sharp and indignant at the sheer audacity of a noise around them when they did not personally and officially approve of it to exist here at this time.

 However, at least the cat did not hiss or anything. They just looked for a bit while Remy reached into the box, intent guiding his blind hands.

Virgil stared into the box for another moment before their ears slowly retreated to their more relaxed state and the kitten allowed themself to nudge Remy’s hand again. With one hand in the box, he only had one more to actively stroke the thunder cloud in his lap. He gladly took the opportunity to gift the small beast with a few more scritches, his hand travelling to their shin to gently stroke and scratch it with as little force as possible in order for the feline monster to be appeased with his actions.

 They were.

Virgil let the weight of their head be carried by Remy’s patient hand while the other rummaged in the box the cat has already lost interest in.

 What. A. Fool.

 His free hand wrapped around the pole-like shape, his fingers gracing the cool material. Ah, finally. He pulled at it until he had retreated his hand enough to reveal the object to broad daylight. It shone a bit, almost as if to mimic the metal it wanted to be made of. He pulled up the slender object, the weight enough to tell him he had something in his hands. It was light but not enough to make him forget about the fact he was holding something. The object’s shape was clear and direct. A few simple touches told him he was right.

His eyes were not needed in this point. He could tell it was the desired object without being able to see through the muffled darkness of the little storage. It was dark, it was always dark where he lived and got to control the dimness of the light.

 “I got ya, bitch.”

 Virgil gave him a look for a moment but he had only eyes and hands for the object. By now, he was “inspecting” it with both hands.

The weight was low enough for his noodle arms to get it easily without any exhaustion. Even with barely any food in him, he was capable. Okay, sure, he worked out but he was not that strong. A sandwich was probably just as heavy as this object. Remy pulled it against his chest with a sense of satisfaction washing over him. A proud smile adorned his features and he glanced back down at the Queen of Salt in his lap. Something within him told him that the furry friend by his side would understand what he just did, would feel what he had in mind.

 For now, he was saved by the cat’s sweet and sour ignorance.

They were like a little child. Not knowing much about the world yet being so eager and amazed at every little novelty they deemed to be a true wonder and a wonder only, for it was revolutionising the world for them. Probably, it was.

They did not know it just yet, but there was a big big miracle approaching them. Virgil was about to get to know a very natural yet artificial wonder very soon, Remy would make sure of that. As their caretaker, it was sort of his job to teach them about the good and the bad of the world. This lesson would be the perfect middle ground of morals and societal standards.

Or maybe just his own opinions... Yeah, maybe rather that, considering he did not really give too many fucks about society as it was.

 Remy pocketed the middle-sized item (it reminded him a large amount of a torch) and got his little kitty cat into his arms before getting up. Together, they returned to the cozy living-room. They cozied up together and the owner got his phone out and ready.

 “Virgil, be a dear, entertain me”, he softly requested before making a little “click” sound with one of his hands.

The kitten whipped their head around, staring into the source of sound that happened to be their miserable excuse of a human servant. With a cautious “meow” coming from them, they leaned in, tail standing still and body tense. Even their ears stood very firm.

 Remy barely breathed when he clicked his tongue in thought.

 “Yo, Queen, calm ya kitty senses. It is a fun surprise. Promise, honey.”

 They eased a bit, sitting down onto their little void butt with their eyes intensely looking at the source of sound, despite it being gone for so long. Reassurance did not reach through their raven fur.

 “Be a good kitty, come on”, he suggested as he brushed a hand through their endlessly dark fur. The sassy child complied, carefully purring into his palm. As usual, they pushed their head closer. The trust was big between them. Virgil shut their eyes effectively and purred on, for longer, for louder.

 It was the time, it really was.

 Remy pulled his own arm closer to his chest, the microphone in his hand. It was active, activated and more than ready for this - just as he was.

If there was any pain or discomfort left within him, he was invincible and ignorant to it since the mere idea of his little plan becoming reality has him in the sweet ecstasy of hyperfocusing.

 Everything but his objective and the required tools became invisible to him.

 Virgil purred and suddenly, without warning for the little salty royal, the sound of their own purr echoed back to them in an odd, distorted manner. The object threw sound back at them because it was a microphone. Said microphone gave a high-pitched feedback in return, leaving the cat awestruck.

 Despite the soft cuddles and little encouraging nudges, they remained silent. Their doll-like, spheric orbs widened and their jaw locked at the weird noises. The cat’s whole posture was simply the shadow of a scare and the embodiment of confusion. If Remy did not know better, he would call them a boomer for the look on their face that could best be described as disgust.

 “You okay there, kitty? Do you hate me and life now? Do you hate your wife- ”

 They eyed the man for a moment, a hint of bewilderment in their intense eyes. Virgil seemed to smell the bullshit that was Remy calling them a boomer, maybe even a Karen. In reality, the cat was more than right! Someone get the manager of dummy thicc kitty-slaves!

 This was heresy! No, it was CARESY! How dare this poorly-made, human-encouraged machine of deafening sounds be alive and working around this cat and even throw back their royal noise with cheap, messed-up pitches? This was a crime!

The perfect balance of demanding and adorable was lost to the heartless machine.

 “Mrrrrrr”

 Virgil started vrooming in spite.

 They frankly produced a sound between a growl and a purr. Remy did not know what it was. He was sure not even Virgil knew what kind of sound exactly they were making and had it not been for the microphone, he would not have even heard it. However, with the useful device, the sound was amplified and came back in an echoing mess of sounds that layered over one another, wavering and stumbling over each other in their heightened pitch as they fought to reach one’s eardrums before the others.

 Distorted echoes and overlapping noises vibrated their way into his hazy mind. Virgil squinted at the atrocious object before the.

He giggled.

 “Virgil, listen to yourself, you silly void!”

 His suggestion fell to deaf ears. Virgil’s ears were, in fact, moving and in place to detect the danger of the intrusive sounds, the loud and sudden shit to bother them in their comfortable existence.

They wrapped their paws around the microphone, both “arms” slinging around it and holding it in place. The microphone was just a finger away from the kitten’s wet nose. The patting sounds was amplified. Rustling occurred, scratching Remy’s and Virgil’s glorious hearing senses.

 They stared again. Remy stared too, his eyes captivated by the sudden turn of events happening before him.

 “Hey, little storm cloud, what are you doing?”

 The cat continued, thrashing the microphone and letting out an actual growl at this point. Louder pats and could were vocalised by the poor, abused microphone.

The dummy duo paid with their hearing abilities. Holy fuck.

 “MeoooooooOOOW!”

 The sound grew louder at the end, forcefully so. It was a powerful establishment of dominance on Virgil’s part. How would the microphone react? Stay tuned for the nex- OKAY The microphone obviously echoed the whole thing back right on impact, leaving Virgil to retreat their head yet not their stubborn paws.

The cat had licked blood and it was not going to give up not. Not in front of their new enemy!

 All the while, Remy decided to be wise enough and retreat his hand from the slightly feral-ing cat.

It was a matter of time for Virgil to just ba-

Iiiiit was already happening~

 Virgil released one of their paws while keeping the other around to stabilise the foe. They committed themself to observing it and keeping it in place while their black hook got back at it, fully swinging against the cool microphone. Remy let go, merely catching up on the series of movement Virgil started carrying out after he had retreated his caressing hand. He had just stopped himself from giggling in amusement as the situation turned into a somewhat serious scene.

 “BADANG!”

 His grip on the microphone was no more - as much as the noisy foe Virgil had bashed the annoying bitch far, far away. The kitty paw had practically yeeted the whole apparatus away from them, the little microphone flying over the couch and landing on the other side of it while echoing the sounds of whooshing air breezing into its loudspeaking function. It crashed into the cushions and sound exploded on them, leaving Remy and Virgil in a groan of annoyance, maybe even a slight tone of pain.

 Hah, tone.

 The microphone’s last cries died down as s quickly as they had torn into the world. Virgil sagely blinked at the fallen enemy. In a great sense of victory, the cat hopped into his arms. They flung themself at his chest and bonked their heads together once more.

 “Meow!”

 They seemed to argue in their own benefit, demanding a reward for defeating the evil intruder and saving their dummy thicc idiot of an owner. Stupid human slaves. Foolish mortals. Bringing their own enemy into their home and even cuddling with it. Good thing the fierce kitten was around to knock out any meanie!

 Very well, they thought, they deserved a treat and Remy would have to hand over one of the good things. Virgil desired it.

 The kitten nudged their owner, settling down on them in satisfaction.

 “You go, Queen”, Remy cheered softly as he gathered the bundle of utter darkness and destruction in his arms.

Praise covered the kitten in warmth. They blinked slowly.

“I got you, you little sassy bitch.”

 Remy wobbled into the kitchen with his bitch buddy and got some treats for the kitten especially and also some for his own tired self. The whole endeavour had not been the most clever thing to do. His head was hurting from the scratchy noises. Still, it was worth the silly fun they had together. Do not judge the bitch flat, they were both hungry and tired! Also, Remy was dummy thicc on meds. Weekends were made to bitch slap fucking microphones and other noise-generating machines and beings across the room just to get a little crunchy CRONCH CRONCH treat in return.

 This was the local apartment laws because Remy and Virgil said so.

 The owner carefully got something from the kitty drawer he had put together by now. With a ceremonial movement, he flicked his wrist and presented his little chaos charcoal with the treat of catnip paradise.

 Virgil jumped into the sack of nice smells and good treats.

 “MRRW!”

 Remy found himself succumbing to giggles once more.

 “Yeah, meow to you, too, dark and stormy knight. You are just the cutest little kitten, honey.”

 He got himself a bit of cheese as he sat down to watch Virgil bite and rip into the bag of the good old cat nip.