#she gives up everything to join with the Fool and keep the Devil at bay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

powerfultenderness · 5 years ago

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Illuminated

Title: Illuminated

Rating: T

Pairing: Vergil/Reader

Summary: Who knew he’d find a kindred soul because a demon managed to run away from him?

Word count: 3524

Some demons were nothing but cowards. Vergil was agitated, angry even, that this stupid demon thought it could get away from him. Of course it did, while Vergil was busy handling it’s friends, but he’d catch up to the damn thing and kill it. Unfortunately, the demon had chosen to run towards the more populated area of Red Grave. If this demon thought a last meal was going to help it, well, it was sorely mistaken.

The demon led him to a park and with the sun setting most of the humans should be gone. ‘Almost. If the place were truly empty, then it wouldn’t have fled here.’

He had to move quick, before the demon made a snack out of some poor fool. Even as he spotted the person the demon must have been after, a young woman sitting under a tree with a book in hand and blissfully unaware of the danger, he felt the ground begin to vibrate. Within another second the vibrations turned more violent, shaking the ground with such force that had he been anyone else, he might have been thrown off balance. As it were, the young woman had stood up, book still in hand and a finger tucked into the pages to mark her place, when the ground first began to shake. She looked around, clearly confused, before the shaking got violent and she fell to the ground with a yelp.

That was when the demon decided to show itself, erupting forth from the ground and leaping into the air. It’s outstretched claws reaching for the screaming woman. Before the demon could reach her, though, Vergil reached her first, deflecting the demons claws with Yamato.

“You’ll pay for making me chase you.” He spoke to the demon, as it reared back and let out an indignant shriek.

Peripherally he was aware of the woman stumbling up and running away. At least some humans still had common sense. Another swing of the Yamato and the demon was torn to shreds. He sighed as he sheathed Yamato, it’d taken more time to track the demon than to kill it.

Vergil turned around, intending to go back home, but paused when he saw a book on the ground a few feet away. It must have been the book that woman was reading. Out of curiosity he picked it up, feeling the slick of demon blood transfer from the book onto his hand. He turned the book over and read the simple title. “The Romantic Poets”. It was quite a bit thicker than the poetry book he sometimes carried around and a cursory glance at the back cover confirmed his suspicion. An anthology of various poets.

After a stressful day at work, all you wanted to do was relax. Luckily the summer days were long and you still had time to go to the park before sundown. No matter how homey your apartment was, nothing could quite beat sitting under a large oak with a good book. You had only recently finished the latest novel that you were interested in, so you took refuge on an old and well used copy of an anthology of poems.

Once settled in a spot that was both shady enough to keep the worst of the sun’s heat at bay, yet still let enough sunlight filter through the leaves to light your book, you flipped to your favorite section and soon lost track of time. It wasn’t until the ground beneath you started shaking that you looked up from your book, and only then did you notice that the sun was beginning to set. For whatever reason the ground was shaking, it was probably best to get away, so you snapped your book closed and tried to walk away. But the earthquake was now too strong. Unable to keep your balance, you fell right back down to the ground.

Then the ground exploded and let forth a rain of dirt and debris. You tried to curl up to avoid the falling stuff and to protect your head. There was a moment when everything was quiet and still that you risked lowering your arms and looking up. What you saw made your heart and breath stop. It was vaguely reptilian, if there were any reptiles that stood over ten feet tall. A forked blue tongue swept out from an arrowhead shaped jaw that was lined with too many fangs. It had unnaturally long arms that were topped with four almost human like fingers, though each finger itself turned into cruelly sharp claws.

Only when it moved, jumped towards you with gleaming claws aimed right at you, did you find your breath, and that only to scream. You squeezed your eyes shut again, your life surprisingly not flashing before your eyes, and waited for the monster to kill you and probably eat you. But you didn’t die, something happened.

The only thing you could compare the sound to were movies. A shing followed by a high pitched ringing. Then the monster shrieked, upon reflection you were pretty sure you screamed too, and you opened your eyes to see why you were still alive. A man armed with a sword stood in front of you, you guessed it was that sword that reminded you of a movie. You couldn’t see much of him as he wasn’t exactly facing you. All you saw was his brilliantly white hair. But really, you didn’t need to see anything else. You saw the monster move and instinct took over. You stumbled to your feet, clumsily dropping your book, and ran away as quickly as possible. You didn’t stop running until you got home and locked the door behind you.

With the demon dead Vergil returned to Devil May Cry, the bloody book of poetry still in hand. The blood soaking into the pages didn’t really bother him, it was hardly more than a few splashes and he’d had worse on his person more times than he could remember. Most of the blood was dried by the next day anyhow, as he discovered when he started to flip through the book during an idle moment at the shop.

It wasn’t the poems that caught his attention as he began to read, or attempt to rather. But all the colors. The young woman apparently had a tendency to write in the margins, and even in the small spaces above the words themselves, in many different colors. He noticed that the most prominent colors were black and blue and it looked like she took care to choose pens that didn’t bleed onto the reverse of the pages.

The book was, predictably, divided by author and the first section was a collection of poems by John Keats. Here he noticed that the markings on the pages were mostly analytical and written in light pencil, almost as if she were afraid to mar the pages.

Though it wasn’t the first poem, he read first through ‘Bright Star’, then read again and considered the lines she had underlined. He even found himself scoffing slightly as she double underlined the last line, ‘And so live ever- or else swoon to death.’ and circled the last three words. What had caused the scoff though, was that next to the word ‘death’ she had sketched a small skull and crossbones with X’s for eyes.

There were other small details, notes on the date of publishing and the date of Keats’ death, and a short note that Keats was aware of his own dying as he wrote the piece. It made Vergil wonder if the woman had been using the book for educational purposes. Surely he could see these notes coming together for a student.

The section with the most color was dedicated to Percy Bysshe Shelley. It wasn’t just a few lightly underlined passages in pencil, but a multitude of colored pens. The poem ‘To a Skylark’ had the beginnings of annotations, above the second line she had written the rhyme scheme, ABABB, in small blue letters, but these letters seemed to explode out of the stanza. Thin lines snaking their way through letters to fill the blank space on the page. This blue pen circled up to form clouds around the edges of the page.

A black pen sketched a bird, a skylark no doubt, to the side of the poem, with pencil shading the animal. Red and orange colored pencils (perhaps she couldn’t find such colors in pen) created small lipping flames around the second stanza. And as Shelley described the birds singing, there were small little musical notes around that line.

As he continued to read the poem, he noticed that some of her drawings began with the printed letters of the poem, sometimes the curve of an S snaked out in random fantastical designs. Sometimes she underlined a particular word and the line she made joined the greater picture of the skylark or clouds. When he looked at the page in whole, it was beautiful. It reminded him of an illuminated manuscript.

He almost missed the fact that the dull brown that colored the birds tail feather wasn’t her own doing, but dried blood. And he almost felt that it was a shame that such wretched lowly demon had ruined this piece of art, and yet he couldn’t find himself to be angry at that demon. For if that demon hadn’t attempted to escape, he wouldn’t have found this book.

Curiously, he flipped to the section dedicated to his own favorite poet, William Blake. There weren’t nearly as many notes in this section, in fact many of the poems looked naked in comparison. Ah, how unfortunate for him, he would have liked to see what artwork she could do with Blake.

Vergil returned to the park a few times over the next week. The woman, it seemed, had a good idea initially in that he found it peaceful to read out in nature. He told himself that he wasn’t looking for her, that it was just chance that he remembered what she looked like, but even if he wouldn’t admit to himself, he was looking for her.

He would return to the woman’s book when he wasn’t busy, setting it next to his own poetry book on his desk for easy access. Dante had even commented on it, telling him that it reeked of demon blood and that he should just buy a new copy. Though Vergil had no intention of discarding the book, it did give him an idea. Perhaps the woman was looking to replace her lost copy.

It had been a month since you were attacked by that monster and you hadn’t even told anyone, figuring everyone would think you were crazy. You found yourself spacing out more and more, thinking back to monster encounter. You even changed your work schedule to make sure you’d get home well before sunset. You also avoided the park at all costs. It didn’t take you long to find a new refuge. It was a small bookstore, apparently Red Grave wasn’t blessed with many, that had a nice reading section.

So it was that one day while you were leaving the bookstore, having pre-ordered a book, that you spotted a most handsome man walk past you into the store. You pause and look back at him, almost certain that the man was the one to save you that night. You couldn’t be sure, but how many people had bone white hair like that and weren’t geriatric? You turned back around, thoughts flying back to that night, and didn’t see that the man also turned and stare at you as well.

Now thinking back to that night, you start to wonder if the bookstore, hell this block, is even safe anymore. Whoever the man was, he survived an attack from a monster. And he didn’t even look hurt. What if he was actually able to stop it. He was carrying a sword that night, wasn’t he? What if he killed it? And if he did kill it, the hell kind of man was he? The white haired man took up every spare thought that you had for the rest of the week.

Although you were hesitant to go back to the bookshop, you were slightly eager to get lost in a new world, so you went back to the little shop. Since it wouldn’t take long to get your new book at the checkout counter, you decided not to waste this trip and walk around and see if there was anything else that caught your attention.

Something else caught your attention alright, but it was not a book. It was him. You practically ran into a display table when you noticed that stark white hair. He was sitting down in a large comfy chair, one leg crossed over his knee while one hand delicately held a book open. You couldn’t quite see the title and before you could maneuver yourself to get the right angle, he looked up at you. He smirked at you, probably thinking you were checking him out, and raised a thin white eyebrow. You quickly looked away, aware that if you stared too long you might end up lost in those icy eyes.

Embarrassed at getting caught you ducked into the nearest aisle and sighed. It was a good thing you were familiar with this section of the bookshop. You started to browse through the aisle, not looking for anything in particular but just trying to get the white haired man out of your thoughts. And it almost worked.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and made you jump in surprise. You turned and saw none other than the white haired man. How did he get so close without making a sound? Now that he was a mere two feet in front of you, he looked so much more daunting. It wasn’t just his intimidating height (though he had to be well over six feet tall!), but everything about him. His steely eyes, his perfectly disheveled spiky hair, his perfect posture, and most of all, his air of absolute confidence. Confidence not just in his appearance or physical strength, but something you couldn’t even begin to fathom. It suddenly clicked that this man indeed could stare down a monster and live.

“Perhaps this is the book you are seeking?”

“Huh?” You blinked, and took a second longer to process his question than you would have liked, as you followed his line of sight to the book his was holding out to you.

Curiously you take the offered book and look down at the suggestion. It wasn’t the familiar cover or title that made you gasp, but the dried blood that caked the cover. With a pounding heart and shaking hands, you dropped the book and absently noticed that dried blood bloated the pages of the book as well.

“Is...Is that...monster...blood?” You manage to squeak out, suddenly feeling the urge to wipe your hands on your pants.

“Monster blood?” He asked (did he sound amused?) and picked up the fallen book.

You nodded and tried to take a step back, your heel hitting the shelf behind you and reminding you that were trapped. “That was you in the park, wasn’t it? You stopped the monster from killing me, right?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure anymore.

He nodded. “It was a demon. A Riot demon. And I killed it, yes.”

WHAT?

“You...killed...a...de...mon?” You tried to process his words out loud. A demon. Whatever a Riot demon was. And he killed it. He killed a demon. He…

He frowned, a knit forming between his eyebrows, as he watched you try to process his words. If you weren’t so caught up in the revelation that there were demons in the world, and people that could kill them, you might have even thought he looked a little disappointed.

“I was under the impression that most of the citizens of Red Grave at least knew of the existence of demons.”

WHAT?

You stared at him. Red Grave and demons. Demons. Is that why everyone was so nonchalant about an explosion in the park. Did the people just assume it was a demon attack, assume that someone took care of said demon, and then moved on with their lives. Surely that couldn’t… “Is that why it’s so cheap to live here?”

Finally it was the man’s turn to give pause in this conversation. “You’re new here.” He concluded, not even the slightest hint of a question. That confidence again.

You nodded, “Been here a little over a month now. Are, uh, demons, like everywhere everywhere?” You glanced from side to side, expecting another monster demon to pop out of nowhere.

That disappointed look disappeared from his face, “Not quite, no. Though I suspect the presence of devil hunters both attracts and deters demons.”

Oh boy, so much information to grasp. “Devil hunter. That’s what you are? And there’s more of you, devil hunters?”

For some reason a flash of annoyance flicked across his face, and you wondered if he was thinking of his job or if it was your questions, but he nodded. “Yes.”

“Cool, cool, cool, cool. That’s...good to know.” Was it? Well, it was it good to know that there were people out there capable of killing demons, but it also wasn’t that great of a feeling knowing that there were demons out there.

Apparently no longer interested in talking about demons and devils, the man looked back at the book, “Am I correct in assuming you no longer want this book?”

You looked at the book in his hands and at the stains on the cover and shook your head. “Not really.” You answered, feeling a little squeamish at the memory of the demon.

“How unfortunate.” He started, “to think you put all that work into this book only to throw it away.” He flipped through the book of poetry as he said this and stopped at a particularly decorated page.

“Oh. That.” You blushed, to think someone (especially someone like him!) had read your notes and saw the little pictures you drew. “Ahm, sometimes I...doodle.”

He smiled and shook his head, “Doodle? No, I’ve spent too much time admiring your artwork to allow you to demean it as such.”

You blushed and chuckled nervously, “Uhm, thank you? It’s really nothing. It’s just, as much as I like to read poetry, sometimes I get bored but don’t want to put down the book and-”

“Why don’t I trade you for it?” He interrupted your babbling.

You paused and blinked up at him. “Trade? What?”

The man took a step forward, and in the aisle there wasn’t much space to begin with, and raised his right arm, blocking you on one side. Your back was already against the bookshelf behind you and this sudden invasion of your personal space brought another burning blush to your face. You could even feel the heat of your blush itching your neck and ears as you caught of whiff of his intoxicating cologne, not to mention the oddly seductive warmth that radiated from him. After what seemed like an hour, though in all honestly was likely only seconds, he pulled a book from the shelf behind you and took a step back again.

It was the familiar cover of the book he was now holding out to you that snapped you back to reality. It was the very same collection of poetry that you had dropped that night in the park, which was currently tucked between his left arm. And that was when you realized what he meant by trade. “Oh. I couldn’t ask you to-”

He shook his head, “You didn’t. I offered. And I insist.”

Before you could protest further he motioned towards the direction of the check out and walked away. You didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare after him, half confused and more than a little flustered before you got your senses back and quickly caught up to him. But by the time you reached him, he’d already paid for the book.

He handed the new book to you, having pocketed your old one. “It was nice to meet your acquaintance. Perhaps we will see each other again.”

Blushing again (or maybe you were still blushing?), you took the offered book with a shy smile. “Ah, thank you. And yea, it was nice meeting you too.”

He nodded and just like that he was out of the bookstore, probably off to kill some other demons or save some other damsel in distress.

A cough from the cashier caught your attention and your turned to her with a raised eyebrow in silent question.

“Look inside.” She said with an excited grin.

Hm? You opened the book to cover page and yet another blush and smile spread across your face. There on the first page was a scribbled name and number.

“Oh! I forgot to thank you for saving me, Vergil!” Well, now you have an excuse to use that number!

#vergil x reader #devil may cry #vergil (devil may cry) x reader #i kinda hate this #but i kinda like it?#i dunno

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casuallydeliciousphilosopher · 6 years ago

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WIP Meme

Rules: List the titles of ALL of the active WIPs in your WIP folder, along with a sentence for the general concept if it isn’t self-explanatory. Then post the last sentence/thing you wrote (fanfic/original/anything)

I was tagged by @thewollfgang (Wolfie you changed your URL…how dare you…I’m horrible at adaptation)

Oh God…why did you have to open Pandora’s box??? You fool, you’ve doomed us all! Jk, you have WAAAAY more WIPs than I do. Seriously Wolfie…how do you do it??? (Also, all of your Lucifer WIPs are frickin’ perfect. I adore you.)

Soooo…this is super long so I’m putting it under the cut. Hopefully, that still works on mobile…who knows. WARNING: 7K words await below.

Lucifer:

Devilish Arrangements – Impending Nuptials (Collaboration with Valificent):

Official Synopsis:

Sequel to Deal with the Devil. Now that Chloe's gotten herself into a less than ideal situation with Lucifer, as a result of the deal they made with each other, she finds that planning a wedding may be the more stressful than managing a hostage negotiation. All the while, she slowly starts to realize that keeping herself emotionally distanced from her soon-to-be-husband is harder than she originally expected. Meanwhile, Lucifer's dealing with some otherworldly issues of his own as his wings get stolen and he comes to terms with his new-found mortality. At the same time, he slowly starts to realize that he might actually be developing feelings for the Detective and her spawn; a revelation that makes him build up walls of denial, and sends him to Linda's office more often than usual.

Chapter 4 Recent Excerpt:

“Doctor. I need advice.” I stated as I closed her office door behind myself, turning to find her with a Tupperware container filled with her lunch and a book sitting on her desk.

She took a moment to compose herself, swallowing the bite she had in her mouth before setting her fork down deliberately. “Lucifer, we literally just had a session a few days ago, you’re not due for another week.” On the surface the words were polite, but I could hear the strained undertone they held, the slight sheen of annoyance.

“I know, but this is an emergency,” I explained as I sat down on the plush sofa occupying the far wall, settling into it as the doctor shook her head softly, tucking a bookmark against the pages of her thick novel.

“What’s your emergency this time?” The soft sigh was all I needed to delve right into it, no point in giving her the chance to change her mind.

“The Detective asked me to supervise her spawn tonight and I need to know the basics on how to keep it alive.” The words left me in a rush, some of my trepidation over the situation managing to leak into my voice.

“You’re joking, right?” The pause in her voice wasn’t supposed to be condescending, but it was regardless. Why did she think I would know how to keep a small human alive? I was the Devil, not some nanny.

“Why would I joke about something this serious?”

A long beat of silence filled the air before the good doctor finally relented, “How old is Beatrice?”

“Seven,” I answered simply, watching a soft smile pull at the corners of her mouth as she shook her head, a quiet huff of laughter escaping her.

“She won’t be too hard to take care of,” Linda stated as she folded her hands over her lap. “She’s old enough to tell you when she’s hungry, or thirsty, or needs to use the restroom. Just make sure you listen to her, she’s still a child and she doesn’t have the self-discipline adults do.” Her simple explanation made it sound...easy. Could it really be so elementary?

“Really? That’s all it takes?” A hint of doubt crept into my voice as I asked, earning a wide smile from the doctor.

“To keep her alive, yes.” I let out a long breath at the answer. I’d been getting worked up over nothing...well, perhaps not nothing; I would have to figure out how to keep her from wreaking havoc on my home...but that was a problem for a different time. “You might want to look into child psychology a little bit if you’re so unused to children. You’re going to her father figure.” The doctor’s words made me cringe. Father figure. Well, I suppose that was certainly one way to describe my relationship with the little miscreant.

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered flippantly, moving my hand through the air in some futile attempt to push the topic to the side. Linda picked up on the movement, of course she did, she was good at her job; some calculating gaze filling her eyes as she leaned forward slightly.

“Why does that bother you?” For a moment I considered ignoring the probing question, I certainly wasn’t expecting the conversation to take this turn...and I really didn’t need to relive all of the fond father-son memories I had buried somewhere in my mind.

“I just...I don’t want to…” I trailed off with a sigh, running a hand through my hair as I wondered if she would let me deflect this question, or perhaps if I should just leave and be done with this for the time being. But before I could do the logical thing, before I could avoid dredging up things that should stay mostly forgotten, my traitorous mouth was already answering, “What if I wind up turning into Him?”

“Him?”

The simple word hung heavy in the air, and I swallowed thickly before answering, “My father.” A long beat of silence lapsed on, and I drew in a long breath before trying to explain, “He…” the words refused to come. What if she agreed with His decisions, what if she thought that He was right and I was wrong? “Let’s just say there’s a reason I don’t like him.”

“You’re worried that you’re going to hurt Beatrice the same way your father hurt you.”

An Angel may keep you Safe, but a Devil will teach you that Fallen things can be Beautiful too:

Official Synopsis:

Chloe and Lucifer go undercover as Mr. and Mrs. Dawson in order to solve a murder and bust a child trafficking ring. Chloe is looking forward to the case as an opportunity to finally have some much needed "alone time" with her new boyfriend. But recent developments in Lucifer's supernatural life make him worry that Chloe’s safety may be in jeopardy when the beast that’s laid dormant in him for so long decides to start rebelling, particularly when in her presence.

Chapter 4 Recent Excerpt:

“Mazikeen, listen to me, you need to tell me everything you know about it,” Lucifer’s voice was quiet yet still rough as he spoke into his phone while he paced back and forth across the bedroom. So far, all of the information his right-hand demon had been able to offer had been of no help at all; and honestly, if Chloe’s well-being wasn’t potentially at stake he would’ve given up on this futile line of questioning twenty minutes ago.

“I’ve already told you everything I know!” Maze’s clearly exasperated voice replied. The Devil growled under his breath at her statement as he stopped in his tracks; bringing his free hand up to rub his temples as he tried to quell his rapidly growing irritation.

“So you advised me to accept this…” Lucifer trailed off as he tried to come up for a proper label for the beast that had been rebelling against him lately, “...thing. When you had no real knowledge of what it’s capable of?” He finished, his voice taking on an accusatory tone as he let his free hand fall limply back to his side. “You said that I would be able to control it.” Lucifer’s voice grew louder and harsher as he resumed his pacing. At this rate, he was beginning to think that he was going to wear a path in the carpet. He couldn’t help but feel irritated with his demon, in a way this was all her fault; he never would have accepted this damn thing had she not pressured him to. Bloody hell, he never would have even known that it existed if it wasn’t for Mazikeen.

“You were the most powerful being I’d ever met! Of course I thought you’d be able to control it!” Maze hissed. “Why does it matter if it doesn’t want to play nice all the time?” She asked a second later, her voice remaining tense.

Silence filled the line for a few strained seconds before Lucifer finally dared to speak up, “Because it wants Chloe. And…” He trailed off before swallowing heavily, “...I don’t know how much longer I can keep it at bay.”

The Gods Live Among Us Now, And They Are No Longer Kind - Earth:

Unofficial Synopsis:

In a world where the color of your blood determines your worth, Chloe Decker has always lived with the simple burden that she’s justa Red. Justa human. Destined to serve under her Silver lords for the rest of her life, destined to serve the very beings that were created to protect her kind in the first place. When she learns about the Red rebellion that’s quickly growing, a group of rebels called the Scarlet Guard who are determined to end the reign of the Silvers, she joins without question, quickly putting her skills to use as a spy. But it’s not until she learns that her partner, Lucifer Morningstar, is not only a Silver, but one of the first ones that was ever created, that her life, and her loyalty, gets torn in directions that she’d never dreamed she’d encounter.

Recent Excerpt:

Lucifer turned at the loud clattering sound echoing through the room, his gaze immediately settling on Chloe as she stared at him with wide eyes. He quickly glanced down at the bag that spilled open on the floor, some medical supplies peeking out from under the burlap. “Are you alright?” He questioned as he finished pulling his fresh shirt over his head, it wasn’t like Chloe to freeze up like this, over anything, really.

“What happened?” Chloe’s breathless voice questioned as she took a calculated step towards him. She must have noticed the puzzled look on his face, because she clarified a moment later, “What happened to your wings?”

Right. The scars. He forgot about them sometimes, most people didn’t have the gall to ask when they did see them; but Chloe knew the truth about him, she knew what used to reside where the scars now were. “What do you think happened?” Lucifer ground out bitterly, his hands subconsciously tightening into fists at the memory of red-hot pain searing through his back as feathers were flayed from flesh.

“Lucifer,” Chloe breathed as she shook her head softly, something that would be pity if it wasn’t so gentle filling her expression. “I’m s-”

“Don’t, please.” Lucifer cut her off, lifting a single hand to silence her. He didn’t want to hear her apologize for something she had no control over, something she didn’t do. He didn’t want to be reminded of how he’d had his divinity stripped from him, the ultimate symbol of how his father had done everything he could to render him powerless, to render him human. “Do you have the stuff?” Chloe seemed to pull herself together at the question, her eyes lingering on his side where he was hurt as she nodded softly.

“Yeah, yeah.” She muttered, quickly bending down and retrieving the bag of medical supplies from the floor as she closed the last few feet resting between them. “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more private?”

Ignis:

Unofficial Synopsis:

After Amenadiel thwarts his mother’s plans to kill Chloe via bomb, the Goddess of Creation comes up with a craftier, and only slightly less lethal, remedy for her problem; trapping her in Hell, the last place Lucifer would think to look for ‘his’ Detective. While Chloe’s stuck in her own personal Hell loop, tensions brew between the celestials and humans in her life as they attempt to find her, hopefully, before Hell manages to leave a lasting mark.

Recent Excerpt:

Cold. Numbing cold.

It’s the first thing that assaults Chloe’s senses; and almost immediately she can taste a bitter, metallic tang on the back of her tongue, and a chill that emanates from within her.

The next thing she notices is the absolute darkness that engulfs everything. She can’t see anything, but she can feel the shadows slowly constricting like a snake coiling around its prey, slowly crushing the life out of her. These inky tendrils that reach towards her aren’t normal, they feel sinister, oppressive, insurmountable.

The ice growing in her veins begins to harden, making it difficult for her to will her limbs to move. But she’s been here before, she knows where to find him; and its that simple fact that wills her to summon the strength to turn around.

Her breath catches in her throat the moment she sees his faint outline, barely visible in the distance. He’s the only thing here that the darkness hasn’t yet consumed; and if she can just reach him soon enough, if she can cross the distance that separates them, then maybe, just maybe, she can save him.

Sweet Sin, Unholy Prayers (Collaboration with Calgrycgos):

Unofficial Synopsis:

AKA my cousin’s A/B/O fic. I’d post something from the upcoming chapter if I could, but really, he does the writing and I just throw in some ideas and polish up his sentence structure a bit. Needless to say, I was stoked when he started writing this (it is one hell of a guilty pleasure, pun intended) and I threw what little A/B/O scraps I had at him and told him he could use them if he wanted. Zachary, you’re doing great baby.

Official Synopsis:

In a world where one's gender seemed to determine their worth in society, Chloe had always hoped to be a Beta, or even better, an Alpha. So when she presented as an Omega she felt like God had abandoned her, forsaken her to a fate that she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy.

But little did she know that God had larger plans for her than she could ever imagine. Plans that involved a fallen and forsaken son, the revolution of the society that she grew up in, and the defense of a universe that even God can't protect on his own.

Chapter 8 Recent Excerpt:

The moment she stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room she noticed Lucifer sitting at the piano, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared down at the black and white keys before him. He didn’t look up when she approached, and she wound up coming to a stop across from him; the massive wooden beast separating the two of them as she spoke up, her tone biting even though she wasn’t raising her voice. “Do you enjoy making me feel insignificant?”

Lucifer visibly tensed at the question, his dark eyes flicking up to meet hers as he slowly lifted a hand and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. “What are you talking about?” The words were mostly neutral, even if a hint of annoyance tainted them at the very end.

“Earlier,” Chloe began as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively, feeling far too scrutinized under the weight of his gaze, “when you oh-so-helpfully pointed out how much worse I could have it, how I should be grateful for how easygoing you are.”

Lucifer had the audacity to chuckle at her words, shaking his head as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I never said that.” He replied as he reached up, resting the still burning cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the glossy black top of the piano.

“But you meant it,” Chloe growled, the nonchalant way he brushed her concerns away only serving to set her even further on edge.

Lucifer stood the moment her voice died away, the soft sound of his footsteps on the ground filling the air as he stepped around the piano. “I thought we agreed that you were going to stop assuming things about me, hmm?” He murmured, something dark underlying the words as he came to a stop a few feet away from her, “That you would stop putting words in my mouth.”

Chloe let out a huff of bitter laughter at his words, her gaze finding the ceiling as she shook her head. She forced her arms back down to her sides as she focused on Lucifer’s miffed expression. “I am so tired,” her voice broke on the simple word as she stepped closer, purposely invading his personal space, “of putting up with abusive Alphas.” The words trembled slightly as they left her lips, but she’d be damned if she was going to let the rest of her life turn into some oppression flavored nightmare that she’d never be able to escape.

“Abusive?” Disbelief blatantly laced the single word as Lucifer stared down at her as though she’d lost her mind. “I haven’t laid a finger on you.”

Soulmate/Daemon/Familiar AU:

Very Unofficial Synopsis:

This is some weird mixture of a daemon/familiar AU and a soulmate AU. I dunno man…I saw a prompt on Tumblr when I was drunk and I actually kinda like what I wrote…maybe this will actually be a thing. Basically, in a world where everyone has a daemon/familiar you can tell who your soulmate is because your daemon will only play with your soulmate’s daemon.

Recent Excerpt:

“Lucifer?” Chloe called out as she stepped into the empty penthouse. Looking around for any sign of her partner as she wrung her hands together nervously. She’d been on edge about coming over ever since Lucifer warned her about his familiar, she wasn’t even sure what she was expecting; a bear maybe, or something else equally dangerous, perhaps a crocodile.

“I’ll be right out,” Lucifer called back, his voice coming from the direction of his bedroom. The acknowledgment set her at ease a bit, and she blew out a long breath as she carefully approached the marble bar to her right. A soft ‘mrew’ sound filled the air a moment later, and Chloe glanced back over at the bedroom doorway only to see a massive black panther, or jaguar, or something, staring at her with huge golden eyes. She swallowed thickly as she stared back at the beast of an animal, part of her wondering how in the world Lucifer had run into a fucking panther only to have the damn thing imprint on him. She didn’t get to wander very far down that trail of thought before the huge cat let out a soft huff and started trotting towards her, gaining more speed with each step as the distance between them dwindled at an alarming pace.

“Lucifer!” Chloe yelled, not entirely sure what her partner would do to stop the massive cat, but hoping that he’d be able to do something.

“Mikhal!” Lucifer barked out a moment later, and the panther slid to a stop before her, coming to a halt with a soft huff only a few mere inches left between them. Chloe let out a long, relieved breath as she dared to pry her gaze away from the beast, her eyes falling on Lucifer, clad only in a towel as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom.

“That’s your familiar?” She questioned breathlessly, a tremor of worry seeping into her voice as Lucifer came down the steps, approaching her with long self-assured strides.

“Surprised, Detective?” He chuckled, reaching out and taking one of her hands in his own before holding it out towards the huge cat. Chloe tensed as it leaned in closer, tentatively sniffing her hand before pulling back and sneezing, the sound echoing through the penthouse. The panther stared up at her for a long moment before rearing up onto its hind legs without warning, and Chloe would have shrunk back if Lucifer wasn’t still holding onto her hand. A moment later she was standing there with its paws draped over her shoulders, the big cat towering over her as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. She froze in place when it started rumbling, and she didn’t realize that it was purring until after it had licked her cheek, its tongue rough against her skin.

Chloe let out a shaky breath when the massive cat pulled back slightly, daring a glance over at her partner only to find him starting at the encounter with some mix of surprise and wariness on his face. “Can I...can I touch him?” She asked a moment later, not wanting to trespass over the line of touching a persons familiar without their permission. Lucifer only nodded slightly in response, and Chloe took it as all the consent that she’d get from him at the moment. Chloe drew in a long breath as she lifted her arms, slowly daring to bury them in the thick, glossy fur at the panther's shoulders.

The cat rumbled out another purr at the contact, leaning in and nuzzling the side of her face with its own, managing to pull a shaky laugh from the detective. “Ava is at home, correct?” Lucifer’s question broke the quiet with ease, and Chloe nodded as she silently marveled over the fact that she was petting a goddamn panther like it was a common housecat.

“Yeah, she’s hanging out with Trix,” Chloe answered a moment later, suddenly thankful for the warning Lucifer had given her earlier today to leave her familiar at home. She didn’t even want to imagine how scared she would be watching her sweet little red fox try to interact with this mammoth of a cat.

“Perhaps next time you should bring her,” Lucifer suggested softly, and Chloe froze at the statement.

“But...you explicitly told me to leave her at home tonight.”

“I did, yes, because Mikhal has quite literally ripped a person’s familiar to shreds before,” Lucifer explained a moment later, and suddenly Chloe didn’t feel quite so content with the huge cat that was lumbering over her at this very moment.

“Then why the hell would I want to bring Ava over?” She questioned angrily, shaking her head as she shot a glare at her half-naked partner.

“Because, I think that maybe-”

“We are not soulmates, Lucifer.”

The Good Die Young, But So Did This:

Official Synopsis:

A collection of prompt fic asks that I fill and then post on my Tumblr account.

Recent ExcerptList of the Prompts I have left to fill:

“I’ve missed this.”

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you.”

“Do you regret it?” + “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

“I thought you were dead.” + “You could have died.”

“I should have told you a long time ago.” + “It was you the whole time.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” + “Was that supposed to hurt?” + “I want an answer, God-damnit!”

“I’m not going anywhere.” + “You could have died.”

“You have to leave right now.” + “Just trust me.”

“Lie to me then.”

“We could get arrested for this.”

“I never stood a chance, did I?”

Fifty Shades of Deckerstar (Collaboration with Nesosana):

Really Unofficial Synopsis:

This is a collaboration that I’m working on with @nesosana…and really, she’s the brains behind the operation. She came up with the idea and it was so great that I asked to join in on the fun ;) This excerpt is basically written entirely by her, so go show her some love if you like it! The title is Fifty Shades of Deckerstar…do I really need to spell that one out, or can we just connect the dots?

Recent Excerpt:

Chloe just stood there, appearing unamused on the outside. But Lucifer had been with her for close to a year now, and he quickly picked up on the subtle cue of his beloved as part of her lip found its way between her teeth. It was clear that she was contemplating it, in fact, he had a feeling that she was doing everything in her power to keep her imagination from running wild.

He wanted to help her explore and fulfill her secret desires, they were his specialty, after all. He proceeded forward cautiously, as if he was approaching a wounded animal. He closed the gap of space between them as he placed a warm, encouraging hand on her forearm; he kept his voice soothing as he spoke, hoping that it would convey that she was safe with him, "Come on, there's got to be something you've always been curious about or wanted to try?"

Chloe chewed on her bottom lip nervously and rubbed her bicep as if it were sore before she began to speak, "Well...I..."

"Yes?"

"I've always wondered about..."

"Go on." Lucifer encouraged.

"This is silly...Lucifer, I can't."

Dishonored:

All Hallowed Eve:

Unofficial Synopsis:

When Jessamine asks him if he’d go with her to the spirit house that’s operating on All Hallowed Eve, Corvo agrees despite his better judgment. As if the threat of being arrested and branded a heretic if caught out after dark wasn’t enough, the Outsider himself had to get involved as well.

Recent Excerpt:

"Follow me, I need to speak with you in private," Jessamine ordered before grabbing the sleeve of my coat, dragging me away from the men staring at us with rapt attention. Ever since the Fugue Feast last year everyone had been acting particularly interested in us when we were near each other. It was nothing more than a mere annoyance. No matter how hard they looked it would be impossible to find something that literally didn't exist, and our rumored relationship was definitely something that didn't exist. We stopped near the end of the training grounds, a short wall dividing the grass from the ocean roaring against the side of the cliff. "Corvo, I'm going out with the Boyle's, the Pendleton's, and the Timsh girl tomorrow evening," Jessamine stated blatantly as she stared out at the ocean.

"I do advise against that, your grace, any civilians caught outside tomorrow night will be tried as heretics if arrested," I told her as I leaned against the wall. Her hair was down today, framing her face as the coastal breeze pushed it around. She must have gotten tired of wearing white, instead dressed in a dark navy tunic and pants which only made her pale skin stand out that much more. She looked over at me a short moment after I spoke up, her icy blue eyes boring into mine.

"Corvo! Stop acting like this!" Jessamine scolded me as she playfully slapped my arm, her voice an annoyed whine.

"Like what, your grace?" I questioned, a smile forming on my face. I knew exactly what she meant, I just enjoyed giving the young Empress a hard time. It was only fair I get her back for all the times she did the same to me.

"Like some stuffy version of my father! Where's the Corvo who's my friend?" She explained. She sounded exasperated and I decided to give her a break.

"Jessamine, I'm just thinking of your safety. What's so important that's happening tomorrow night?" I questioned as I let my Lord Protector mask down, something I only did for her and Geoff.

"There's this…" Jessamine trailed off as she stared at the grass under her feet for a moment before continuing. "This spirit house that some people are running in an abandoned place off the Wrenhaven, they're all going and I want to go with them," She explained quietly, as though she was scared that the men at least a dozen meters away would hear her. I couldn't blame her for keeping her voice down though. Oh, how the citizens on the isles would react if they found out that the heir to the throne wanted to go to a place where the Outsider was worshiped freely! The heresy!

"Oh, come on, Jess! Don't tell me you believe in all of this All Hallowed Eve, Outsider boogeyman nonsense," I chuckled as I shook my head, staring her down as I awaited her answer. I'd never known Jessamine to be religious except for when circumstance demanded it of her, and even then, she really only did religious things to uphold appearances. She’d never struck me as someone who would want to worship any deity, she was much too logical to get caught up in all that spiritual mumbo-jumbo.

"Of course, I don't! But it's supposed to be really spooky," Jessamine quickly answered, her voice still hushed as she began to tap her fingers on the brick wall almost as though she was growing impatient with our conversation.

"Since when do you want to be scared? You always hide behind me the second anything even relatively scary happens.”

“You’re my bodyguard! I pay you so I can hide behind you whenever something scary happens, that’s the whole point of your job.”

Modern Day AU:

Unofficial Synopsis:

When Corvo is given a new set of orders from his General he’s not particularly happy about it. Is babysitting some defense contractor representative really all he’s good for in his commanders’ eyes? It’s not until his assignment, Jessamine Kaldwin, is captured by a rouge sqaud of Al-Qaeda operatives that he realizes that there’s far more than just his ass on the line if he fails to get her back.

Recent Excerpt:

“Delta Squad, the west wall is being breached. Provide immediate support. Over.” The staticky radio ordered as another mortar hit the ground, closer than the last one, rocking the car I was hiding behind and sending dirt cascading from the air like rain.

“Avenger, I’m not gonna be able to do that for you.” I answered gruffly before shooting a few more bullets in the direction of the enemy.

“Delta Squad, that was an order.” The radio buzzed in response, and I felt anger boil through my veins. I was having a hard enough fucking time keeping myself alive.

“Shut the fuck up, Havelock! They’re all dead, the whole squad! It’s just me, so crawl the fuck outta my ass!” I yelled into the receiver.

“Attano?” I heard Havelock question, I didn't reply though because it was right then when I watched a grenade land next to Curnow. I threw the radio down into the dirt as I yelled his name, he looked over at me, then down at the grenade. He picked it up and tossed it back in the direction it’d come from, but it hadn’t gotten more than 10 meters from him before it blew up in the air.

“Curnow!”

I bolted straight up as I woke from the dream. My breath coming in gasps as I buried my face in my hands, the assault on our base had happened little more than a month ago, but I couldn’t erase the memories from my mind. Memories of my squad dying in front of my eyes, of Curnow…

“Sergeant Attano. General Moray is requesting your presence in thirty.” An almost nervous voice broke the silence, drawing my gaze up to the young man standing in the entrance-flap of the barracks tent.

“The General?”

“Yes, Sergeant.” The young private stated before leaving me be. I sighed as I stood up, quickly throwing on a fresh uniform before leaving the barracks. The General’s tent was across the base, which meant I was going to miss breakfast, but if I had to choose between going hungry and angering my commanding officer, I’d sooner starve than find myself walking into his office late. The base was bustling this early in the morning, the loud rumble of Humvees being warmed up for the day and the cadences of a platoon going for a morning jog resounding in the air as the sun began to peek over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and red.

The General’s tent stood out against the rest, far larger than it needed to be, with the US flag and the guidons of every company currently on this base posted outside the front entrance. I paused outside for a moment, hearing the soft drone of a voice that sounded oddly feminine emanating from inside. Really? Did the General lack the common sense to bring a woman onto this installation, half the men here hadn’t seen a woman in months, he had to know that this was asking for trouble. I shook the thought away a moment later, calling through the tent flap as I made my presence known, “General Moray. Sergeant Attano reporting for duty.”

“Come in, Attano.” The Generals deep voice rang out after a brief moment of silence, and I entered the tent to see the General speaking to a young woman dressed in a business suit. Well shit. Maybe my commanding officer was starting to lose his mind, bringing a woman, especially one that looked like that, onto a base that primarily consisted of infantry units. “Attano. This is Miss Kaldwin.” The woman stood at his introduction, and I couldn’t really help it when my eyes started to wander, it’d been a while for me too and I was only human. “She’s a representative of Foster-Miller, one of our defense contractors. She’s here to identify and correct any weaknesses in the current TALON units we have in Afghanistan right now.” My commanding officer concluded, and I nodded at the explanation as I wondered why he felt this information was pertinent to me.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Miss Kaldwin greeted me a moment later, her crisp bright voice ringing through the tent with ease. I grimaced slightly at the title she gave me, but I quickly decided that now wasn’t the time to have the whole ‘I’m not an officer, only officers are sir’s’ talk. Ugh, civilians.

“Sir, what did you call me here for?” I questioned, returning my gaze to the General as his murky, blue eyes bored into mine.

“I’m getting to it, Sergeant. Give me a moment.” The response was stern, and he didn’t need to scold me twice for me to take the hint.

“My apologies, sir.”

“As I was saying, Miss Kaldwin is here to check on our bomb deactivation units. I’m assigning you to be her escort for the time being, your only job is going to be making sure that Miss Kaldwin here stays in one piece while she checks up on all the robots.” I swallowed thickly as the words gave way to silence. He wanted me to play…babysitter? Was I supposed to be grateful for the opportunity to play bodyguard with some posh government contractor? Why did he want me for the assignment?

“Sir, with all due respect. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…the last time I was on the field-“

“You lost seven men.” The General cut me off, his tone unyielding as he stood up. “I’m well aware of what happened, Attano. I saw your report.” He stepped around his desk a moment later, his gaze roaming over me for a long moment before he continued; “However, you were the only one in your squad that made it out alive, and that has something to say for your skills as a soldier.”

I pursed my lips at the words, I wasn’t a better soldier than any of them, I was just lucky. “Sir, wouldn’t she be better off with a female escort?” Surely he would at least see the logic in that, not that I doubted my ability to control myself, but really, why tempt the devil when it wasn’t necessary in the first place?

“You’re in the infantry, Attano. There are no females.”

“Then give her to an MP, there are female MP’s,” I explained a moment later, quickly trying to recollect if a female MP had come over with the MP company currently stationed on the base.

“Pfft. Nonsense…MP’s. MP’s don’t know shit, Attano. They’re worthless out on the field.” The General dismissed my suggestion with blasé confidence. “This is your assignment. Take it. Or don’t, and I’ll Court Marital you for insubordination.”

Bodyguard in the Streets, Assassin in the Sheets:

Official Synopsis:

AU where Corvo wasn't a gift to the Kaldwins, but instead was sent to ensure either the Duke of Serkonos rise to power or the demise of young lady Jessamine Kaldwin. However, sometimes even the most battle-hardened assassins can change their ways, especially when there's a young, beautiful princess involved.

Recent Excerpt:

“Corvo,” I whispered softly, waiting for him to look up at me before continuing. As the seconds ticked by I wondered if he was going to do anything, or if he was just going to ignore my voice; but after what felt like an eternity, he finally looked up, his still watery eyes finding mine almost timidly. “I love you, and I hate seeing you like this. I hate seeing you in pain. Will you please just talk to me?” I whispered as I pulled my hands from his face and wrapped them around his hands, which were somehow colder than my own.

“There’s-” He stopped as his voice broke, pausing a moment before clearing his throat and speaking up once again. “There’s nothing to talk about,” He finished as he continued to stare at me, pain still more than evident in his eyes. I just wanted to understand, if he would just tell me what was wrong with him I could help.

“Corvo, please,” I begged, my voice so quiet that I didn’t know if he’d hear it even though we were sitting right next to each other.

“What do you want me to say, Jessamine? That I hate who I was in the past, and even though I thought I wasn’t that person anymore I know now more than ever that I am? That not a night goes by that I don’t hear the screams of a little girl who ran into her father’s room only moments after I slit his throat, his body still twitching with the last of his life as she crumpled to the ground absolutely broken?” Corvo paused a moment to draw in another shaky breath as another tear rolled down his face, he wiped it away almost instantly before continuing. “That I’ve killed more people than I can count; made widows, and orphans, and destroyed families? Because all of that is true, but I’m the one who did those things; and it’s my burden, not yours, to live with the guilt now,” Corvo finished, his voice taking on a hard, steely edge as he tried to pull on his unfeeling persona once again. I swallowed as I held his hands a bit tighter, I’d always known Corvo had a bloody and ruthless past, I just didn’t know that it affected him so much to this very day.

“You don’t have to do everything alone anymore Corvo, it’s okay to need help. If you’d just let me I’d…” I trailed off as I realized I had no idea what I could do. I didn’t know how to fix this, I didn’t know how to fix anything.

“You’d what? Make everything magically all better?” The question held a mocking tone, but I knew he didn’t mean it like that. He always pushed people away, it’s what he did when he felt vulnerable, and it was what he was trying to do right now.

“No, but I could help, we could…talk about it,” I stated softly as I tried to caress his jaw, but he pushed my hand away. I admired how he always tried to be strong, but he needed to learn that it was okay to be weak too, it was okay to need someone to help you through life.

“I deserve to feel this pain,” He growled, his voice hard and unfeeling. Full of self-loathing that had become more and more apparent this last day. But he didn’t deserve to feel this pain, and he certainly didn’t deserve to deal with it all on his own. Nobody did.

“No, you don’t.”

Red Queen:

I Have No Fuckin’ Clue:

Very Unofficial Synopsis:

Yeah…this isn’t really anything yet, perhaps it will be someday, but right now it’s kinda just where I dump random scenes my wild imagination comes up with…

Recent Excerpt:

“Who is it?” Julian called out as he heard one of the thick double-doors to his study slam shut, when no response came he quickly peeked out from the corner of the tall bookshelf he was behind, easily catching sight of his nephew as he took a seat at the cluttered desk in the center of the room. “Oh, Cal, how are you?” He questioned as he closed the thick volume in his hands with a dull thud, unable to ignore the way the temperature of the air rose exponentially the closer he stepped to the young prince.

“I’m a mess,” Cal ground out roughly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he slouched against the back of the chair. “My life is spiraling out of control and I don’t know what to do anymore.” He explained, his voice growing louder with each word as he flung his arms in the air and spun the chair in a slow circle.

“Well, someone’s being a drama king,” Julian chuckled, setting the leather-bound book down on his desk as he took the seat across from his nephew. “Did something happen with your father?” Cal only shook his head at the question, his eyes focused on some faraway point in the distance as the chair’s rotation began to slow. “Did something happen with that girl?” The second the question broke the silence Cal stopped the chair, his eyes refocusing as a frown pulled at the corners of his lips. “Of course it’s the girl,” Julian muttered fondly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the novelty of it before he asked, “Do you like her?”

Cal’s hands tightened into fists at the question, his voice dark as he quietly ground out, “I want to end her.”

“Let’s calm down there,” Julian placated, lifting an arm out towards his nephew as a wave of heat filled the air, part of him worried that the loose papers spread across his desk might spontaneously combust. “You’re supposed to be making love, not war.”

“She hates me!” Cal explained, drawing in a deep breath before quietly grounding out; “Did you know she pushed me down in the Archeon river? I was soaked, in my military dress uniform.” Despite the dangerous tone his nephew's words held, Julian couldn’t help but smile at the mental image. The little lightning girl that he’d heard so much about had some spunk in her, then.

“I like her already.”

“Julian!”

Borderlands:

I Have No Fuckin’ Clue Ver. 2.0:

Very Unofficial Synopsis:

Much like the Red Queen excerpt above…I really don’t know what this is yet…or if it even is something. But really, I have the Rhysha feels, and I need them in my life. So, here ya go, have some angst.

Recent Excerpt:

“Oh, well, I kinda…own the company now,” Rhys explained with a nervous chuckle, silently wondering if Sasha hated Atlas as much as she hated Hyperion, if she would think that he was trying to rebuild the corporation to exploit Pandoran natives like it did before it faced its economic demise. “Atlas is mine. What’s left of it, at least.”

“Seriously?” Sasha’s voice practically raised an octave, her eyes growing wide as she stared at him in shock. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell if it was the good kind of shock, the kind that ended with her congratulating him on his resourcefulness before ‘playfully’ punching him in the arm hard enough to leave a bruise for the next week; or if it was the bad kind of shock, the kind that would inevitably end with her beating him with her sandal while screaming ‘I thought you changed, you corporate stooge’.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, trying his best to downplay just how proud he really was of Atlas, of the things he’d already accomplished in terms of building up the company to the glory it held before Hyperion ran it out of business. “Jack had the deed in his office, I took it after Helios went down.” Sasha’s expression twisted at the statement, and Rhys winced as he mentally slapped himself for bringing up Jack…God only knew that neither of them had good memories about his late corporate overlord.

“Right, Helios,” Sasha muttered, chewing on her lower lip as she stared at the ground for a long moment. “Rhys…I…” Her big, green eyes flicked up to meet his as she shook her head softly, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear that Sasha looked almost…distraught. “I thought you died in the crash.” The words were quiet, but her voice threatened to crack on the syllables regardless. “Why didn’t you drop by Hollow Point to say, ‘hey, I’m still alive guys, good talk’?”

“Sasha…I-”

“I thought I’d never get to see you again.” Rhys swallowed at the statement, suddenly feeling like more of an asshole than he had in a while, which was quite a feat, considering that the guilt of killing nearly three-thousand Hyperion employees as ‘collateral’ to get rid of Jack’s AI had been weighing on him every day since Helios fell to earth in a fiery hailstorm.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured as he reached out, carefully wrapping his fingers around her hand despite the knowledge that touching her would likely end with a concussion. Her eyebrows drew together as she stared down at his robotic prosthetic, and for a moment he wondered if that was the first time she realized that he’d been forced to ‘upgrade’ his biometrics…it wasn’t as though the shift from bright, Hyperion yellow to shimmering chrome was an easy detail to miss. “I just…when I saw the spaceship take off I thought…I thought you left without me on purpose.” Sasha’s concerned gaze flicked up to meet his own the second he stopped to draw a breath, and good God, if there was anyone who could make him feel guilty for assuming something like that just by giving him the right look, it was her. “I thought that, you know…you meant to leave me to die on a crashing space station.”

“I would never willingly leave without you, Rhys.”

Whelp, that’s all folks! If anyone wants to ask any questions about any projects in particular my inbox is always open! Even if my turnaround time is a bit daunting at the moment (curse you midterms). Who to tag…I’m really interested to read some of @theleafpile ‘s original fiction ;) if she’s willing to share. I also know that @mareyshelley has something Rumbelle related in progress right now. @shipssailinginthenight just finished her Highschool AU (which I haven’t had the time to finish yet D: ) but maybe you have something new your working on? And um… @missielynne give us some of your writing!

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bungou-stray-dogs-indulgences · 8 years ago

Note

You know that "who you should fight" meme? Could you do a BSD version of it, if it's not too much to ask?

(Ngl this may be the best thing I’ve ever answered)

WHO YOU SHOULD FIGHT

ADA

Atsushi: You win(?)

Walk right up to him and beat the ever-loving shit of him. He’ll apologize to you. An easy fight, just don’t slip in any tasteless orphan jokes, it’ll have the opposite effect intended and he’ll take you the fuck out with the pure intent to prove he’s worthy. You could beat him but the psychological weight of crushing someone so innocent will ensure that you never feel right again. Fight him if you have no soul.

Dazai: You lose

He’ll turn the whole affair into a big joke. If you, by some stroke of luck, actually hit him, he’ll probably just say ‘harder daddy’. The psychological effects of brawling Dazai will be devastating either way. DO. NOT. FIGHT.

Ranpo: You win

Honestly, it’s hardly worth your time. He hasn’t eaten anything but chocolate cake and cheap lollipops for the last six years, not to mention any form of physical exercise. He’s got pale-ass noodle arms and a muffin top (don’t believe the official art’s lies. The bitch eats solely from a candy shop and looks like he just topped off a cycling session with Jillian Micheals? Get the fuck out). Just don’t bring a Jolly Rancher shiv because he’ll eat the damn thing. Undoubtedly fight, just be prepared to book it like a fucking librarian after you knock him out because the rest of the ADA will come after you.

Kyouka: Depends

Look, fourteen’s a shitty age even when you’re not dealing with pressing morality crises.There is nothing Kyouka wants more in this world than to dial herself, let Demon Snow rip and raise her kill count to thirty seven. But all you gotta do to keep her at bay is debate on morality like Matthew fucking Murdock in Netflix’s Daredevil. If you can successfully hold her back with discussion on ethics (and how hers will be jack-shit if she slaughters you) you have a slim chance of victory. A great fight if you need to practice for speech class.

Kunikida: You lose

You might think victory’s as simple as tossing his notebook in a nearby water fountain and watching him flip a lid, but this is an absolutely awful tactic and the inside of your head will be decorating the sidewalk in mere milliseconds. He beats Dazai’s band-aid wrapped flanks on the daily and he won’t hesitate to destroy yours. If you fight, at least your cause of death can be listed as ‘blonde beefcake’s rippling biceps’.

Kenji: You win

Just feed him a few bowls of Spaghetti-o’s before you deck him and the little blonde bitch won’t stand a chance. You can smack him back into the cultist backwater rice paddies he crawled out of easy as smacking a crippled fly. A perfect fight for abusing a fourteen year old without getting into too much trouble.

Fukuzawa: You lose

You might think you could dress up in a kitty costume and sneak up to him. And you could. It would be easy, in fact. He’s so focused on the cuteness he won’t notice any maliscious intent. Despite this his reflexes are simply too quick and he’ll still take you the fuck out when you make your move. A bad fight from all angles. You’ll have to fend off his adopted, dysfunctional ADA children too. Just don’t.

PORT MAFIA

Akutagawa: Depends (99.5% losing chance. risky.)

Yeah, you’re fucked. Akutagawa won’t even wait until you initiate, he’ll be the one attacking you, probably over something minor and stupid like the color of your pants is personally offensive. Rashomon will be slicing and dicing you into a smoothie for cannibals before you know what hit you. The only way you make it out alive is if by some stroke of luck Dazai happens to be in a one hundred mile radius and Akutagawa’s senpai-radar starts going off. Fight only if you bring My Chemical Romance vinyls to punt at him; they’re his biggest weakness .

Chuuya: Depends (99.75% losing chance. Cross thy fingers and pray)

Facing Chuuya is a bigger risk than that board game. He’s practically impervious to all close-up melee and he’s too small of a target to be hit with anything from afar. You might think you’d have a fighting chance if you knocked his hat off; after all, that’s basically all he is. A hat rack prone to alcoholism. But that fury will only make him stronger and he’ll crush you like you’re a cum-covered Dazai body pillow. As with Akutagawa your only glimmer of hope for survival is if bandage-kun happens to be close by because Chuuya will prioritize and leave your now crippled ass in the dust that he punted you in. Only fight while intoxicated. (Both of you. Not just him. It’s more fun that way. Much like Turkish oil wrestling but with more gravity.)

Mori: You lose

If you want to fight him you’ve obviously got a death wish and I’m not going to stop you. There’s easier ways to go though, man. Easier ways. His expression won’t even change when he whips out that scalpel (I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school) and filets you like a fresh caught tuna, on its way to a B-rated fast food join. Your body’s gonna get left on the pavement for the stray dogs. (No, I’m not gonna finish that joke. Low hanging fruit. I have some dignity.) If you want to die that bad, just go see if Dazai will suicide with you. It’ll be significantly less painful

Elise: I fucking dare you

I mean, you probably could take her out, she’s like seven. Mori will let her play skip rope with your small intestine after she’s recovered. Rest In Peace if you even consider it.

Kouyou: You lose

I don’t know what would inspire you to be so stupid. She’ll just let out a dignified little chuckle and shove that umbrella sword so far up your ass you’ll be tasting acid rain for months, and she’ll do it all in the most ladylike way possible. Unless you’re ready for your innards to end up in a teapot, served with chocolate-coated orange wafers at tea break, just don’t fight.

Oda: ???

He’s fucking dead. What are you gonna do, kick his headstone, maybe plant some weeds over his grave? Just don’t mention the burnt orphan soup, or he’ll literally rise and put you in his coffin instead. If you’re willing to dabble into necromancy, knock yourself (or him, in this case) out.

Q: Haha

I get why you’d want to fight him, I really do. He looks like a miniature Cruella Deville on an acid trip. But you just don’t have a chance. Hit him. Go ahead. As soon as you so much as brush him he has the power to destroy your shit like it’s never been destroyed before. Will annihilate you from the inside out. The deadliest emo thirteen year old there’s ever been; avoid at all costs!!!

Higuchi: You LOSE

You might think you have a chance because she doesn’t have an ability. But you’re gravely mistaken. Higuchi is bitter. Higchi is ruthless. Higuchi does not give a fuck about anything other than getting Emotagawa-senpai to notice her. She has nothing, nothing to lose and she will not rest until she’s pulling your tonsils through your asshole in the hopes that Akutagawa will give her a thumbs-up for slaughtering you. DO NOT fight. She stands to lose nothing and gain everything.

THE GUILD

Hawthorne: You lose

You might think that you’d have a fighting chance because he’s a priest and priest’s aren’t supposed to wreck people’s shit but he will see your sins and you won’t even see him coming. Try to punch him his ability is literally activated by injuries. Knocks you out with a psalter hymnal and ships you off to Bible camp while you’re unconscious. Only fight if you have never sinned, not once, ever.

Steinbeck: Depends

If you’re from the city he’ll destroy you. Farm boys always tear apart city people no questions asked. If that fact doesn’t dissuade you then just prepare yourself not to be freaked the fuck out when he jack-knifes his own neck and starts sprouting flora. As long as you keep your cool you’ve got a 30/70 chance. Only fight if you bring a metric fucktonne of weed killer.

Poe: You win (biggest douchecanoe award, but that’s about it)

Physically, sure, you could sneeze within fifty feet of his pasty ass and take him down. But really? Do you really want to hurt him? He’ll stare right into your soul with those sad, sad eyes and wonder just what he did to inspire such bitterness in you. If you can still fuck him up after that then you’d best kiss your spirit goodbye because it’s descending to the seventh level of fiery hell as you read this. Plus, honestly, there’s no true triumph against a man whose best bud is a raccoon. That’s just too rad. If you can deal with the pressing moral consequences and a pissed off raccoon, go for it. (You monster).

Mitchell: You win

All you have to do is push her hospital bed down the stairs and pretend it was an accident. Her comatose ass can’t do a thing to stop you. Fight if you’re ready to run from angry hospital staff.

Fitzgerald: You lose

You know, this sentient sack of Benjamins deserves it, in all honesty, but don’t try. Him and his power suit will kick you into the next millennia before you can say ‘old sport’. Prepare to be crushed by capitalism.

Melville: You win

He’s like eighty and his ability’s a goddamn floating whale. As long as you don’t throw down at Sea World, you’re good. Fight as long as you’re not in front of an assisted living facility; the CNAs will think he’s a resident and defend him.

Lovecraft: Depends

Attack him while he’s trying to nap and he’ll be too lazy to get up. Otherwise… yeah, just google ‘Cthulhu’. You’ll get the idea. Don’t fight: there’s no beating weaponized tentacle porn.

Montgomery: You lose

Go right ahead and try, she’ll whisk you away to her Melanie-Martinez ass torture dimension and let Anne mop the floor with your teeth. It’s kind of like challenging God. Unless you want to spend eternity in an unsexy rip-off of the 50 shades Red Room, DO. NOT. ENGAGE.

Twain: You win

Twain’s all talk, anybody that walks around with their titties hanging out 24/7 is definitely trying to distract from something. In this case he’s trying to fool people into thinking he’s not a dictionary-definition pussy. Rip the heads off his muppet babies and he doesn’t even have an ability anymore, the schmuck. Fight when you’re looking for a quick self-esteem boost.

Alcott: You win

This poor woman does not deserve to be tortured anymore than she already is by the weight of her own social awkwardness, but if you really insist: make a derogatory comment and she’s basically down for the count already, no physical contact necessary. If you really want to dominate, just steal her glasses and she instantly morphs into a significantly less foxy Velma Dinkley. Also significantly less prone to self defense. An A-1 fight for when you’re looking to cement residency in Hell.

OTHER

Ango: Depends

You would think his beanpole ass would be an easy target. You’d be wrong, though. So very wrong. He’s been chugging tomato juice like it’s his job for the past forever and he’s got a snazzy pair of handcuffs he’s just dying to break out. If you sabotage basic safety features on his car, though, he’s a goner. Just sneakily unbuckle his seat belt while he’s driving and you’ve basically defeated him right then and there. A good fight for practicing strategic tactics and subtle vehicle vandalism.

Fyodor: You lose

Just ask A how that one turned out. Actually, ask anyone in the manga what throwing down with Fyodor entails. (Unless you only watch the anime, then just wait for the season three that we’re probably not getting) He’ll escort you personally to the gates of hell with a flick to your forehead. Then he’ll step right over your still-warm corpse and start playing the cello with that unnecessarily wide leg-spreadage. Mess with this sentient ushanka hat and he’ll uSHANKa you.

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