#there's a guy who cannot wait to rush in where angels fear to go

[rax-writes]

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Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an ���enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

[arcadejohn127-9]

What if Mc was a person who don't take shit from anyone, demon human or Angel, and just was this small sassy piece of dynamite? How’d everyone react?

MC who takes no shit - brothers + undateables

Satans pact and chapter 16 spoilers

Lucifer:

So you've chosen death

This man can't even handle the smallest sign of defiance

an actual bitch boy

"You are here because you were picked to attend, you were listed to be under my care, this is MY house! You follow MY rules-"

"hold that for a second, I'm calling Dia."

He's so easy to rile up

You feed off his quick temper, he makes it too easy

But he deserves it

Too many times he thinks he can just control you and his brothers

You've cut Mammon down from the ceiling, when faced to Lucifer you just handed him the rope

"If you want someone to hang so much, do it yourself, old man, it is your fault after all - if you didn't leave your cursed valuables lying around Mammon would of never tried to steal them and get himself cursed."

Mammon:

He both scared of you and in awe of you

He's surprise you're still alive at this point

Of course you're alive, the great Mammon is looking after you

You have definitely called him out for being a tsundere

"So, you wanna make out or do you wanna keep yammering on?"

"I- You can't just be saying that to demons!! Why would I wanna kiss some human-"

"Kay, I'm going to go see if Levi wants to-"

"WAIT! DON'T DO THAT!"

Whenever he steals something from you or the others, you go on a man hunt

"Sell your own stuff! You always have something new in there! or are you that scummy and bad with money you need to steal off others ?"

Please have some mercy with him

In general, finds your sassy attitude interesting, always wonders what the new comment or roast will be

Levithan:

Scared and in awe but times it by 10

Is mostly terrified because you make him upset

Didn't expect to be called a guilt tripping bitch

"You're busy? I get it, I mean - why would you ever want to spend time with someone like me? I'm just some nobody, a yucky otaku who no one wants to be around-"

"I get having a low self esteem but shitting on yourself at EVERY given chance and then go on to be about how yucky and worthless you are when I just wanna spend time with someone else?! You can fuck right off!"

He thinks you're a delinquent, has gotten you a cool jacket so you can put it over your shoulders

You can pat him on the back for at least being able to stand up for himself, he's always ready to brawl and never shys away from calling his brothers out

Always lets you wear his headset and just watches as you cuss and sass any petty player

Satan:

It seems you keep choosing death

You wanna get sassy and back talk the literal embodiment of wrath????!

So - do you want be buried or cremated?

You take none of his shit

He respects it just as much as he hates It

We all know he has good control over his anger but there's a limit on how much of your attitude he can stand

"You're so petty, do you have to be a smart-ass about everything?"

"that's rich coming from the guy who threatened to cut off my limbs because I wouldn't make a pact wth him."

When he doesn't respond you just nod to yourself, checking your nails

"Yeah that's what I thought."

If he needs to come up with a good come back he always asks you

Sits back and watches you argue with Lucifer

Asmodeus:

He loves it until you call him out

Didn't expect to get psychologically profiled

"At first I thought you were just a narcissist but now I see you're just a Insecure man who placed his value on his looks and how people perceive him-"

" You can't seem to handle any type of bad press about you-"

"Oh? Did you make yourself look bad then blame it on someone else because they just wanted to do what they please? Oh boo hoo!"

You could end this man's career with a single word

But, if you're 'no shit' attitude is targeted to someone else? He's all over it

Will sigh dreamily and watch you chew Someone out

Unless you get super roasty and rude - he encourages you to talk to him with an attitude

"You're so hot when you talk like that~"

Knows you aren't all sass, he definitely enjoys your more softer side

Will invite you to a sleep over so you two can gossip and rant over a bottle of wine and do a mini spar

Beezlebub:

What prompted you to be this sassy? He's baby!

I mean, he did throw a fit when you ate his custard and destroyed your room

Sure, constant hunger is painful but he can survive without one custard

Yeah- he can be up for roasting and being chased out

"You've told me you literally want to eat me! How is that comforting?! You're hunger tantrums are already bad enough but now I know I could be on the menu?"

"No thanks! Do the hokey pokey and turn your goofy ass around!"

Has a habit of being your stool, he doesn't mind really, finds it pretty adorable actually

You're so small compared to demons so when a gym jock is being rude about you or Beel

You just snap your fingers and he'll sit down, hunch over and put his hands over his head

You'll just step on his palms (you take off your shoes angrily whilst telling the jock demon to not move an inch) and just go off

He understands where alot of your cusses come from, he agrees with you and feels guilty on his behaviour

Really likes it when you stand up for him; normally no one does that because he's such a big guy

Belphie does it but things can be abit disheartening when your twin Is the only one rushing to help you

Belphegor:

You know what? Understandable, please, fire away

Just keep making jokes and references to all the bad things he's done

He needs to be put in his place

The dude has literally killed you! If you weren't going to give him an earful when you recovered then what was the point?!

This man is one of many bastards in this school

Either watches you go off on people or sleeps mid arguement to stop hearing you call him out

"I'm innocent, I haven't done a single thing wrong in my life."

"wELL-"

He will always respect you for looking out for his twin, when he can't do anything he always looks to you to step in

Has held things out of your reach just to watch you get mad

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

You've chosen a fate worse than death at the cost of sassing a pure man

He gets upset but is very understanding, it's his companions who will handle your fate

I honestly, CANNOT, think of a reason you'd want to be sassy or rude to him

If it's just in general and not meant to offend him; he thinks it's very attractive

You've got a silver tongue and able to make a comment without much thought

Very impressive

His type is Lucifer very simple

You'd call him out for letting dangerous behaviour happen at the school and putting loads of faith into Lucifer

Perhaps point out how reckless inviting humans to a demon realm - who could easily be killed if they don't have an escort with them at all times

But other than that? He's safe

Barbatos:

He is your executioner

He can handle a jab

But he will remind you he was the one who saved you if you get too out spoken with him

that only gets him more cussed out though

"So you're aware of pretty much every event that happens, Right?"

"You could say that."

"Then shouldn't you use those abilities to then help anyone and stop all sorts of tragedies?"

"My Lord has stopped me from using my powers freely."

OKAY THAT'S SOMETHING YOU CAN CUSS DIA OUT ON

In general, you just make comments about how vague he is

He's too mysterious that it's just ridiculous

You want to get to know him but he just gives you that smug look and amused laughter

Solomon:

Can you really be blamed for being Sus of him?

He's so suspicious, for what?! For what reason?!

He doesn't like being called old? Depending how disrepectful you wanna be, you like to use the nickname "Grandpa Solo"

"I'm surprised you aren't actually some evil Wizard trying to get the brothers pacts so you can be the most powerful human alive and take over the Devildom."

"Who says I'm not?"

He's witty and smug

You're sassy and explosive

You're a duo that should be feared

The two powerful humans banding together? I'm sure there's a website on the two of you with theories of your evil plans

Simeon:

Finds your attitude delightful!

Didn't want his kindness to annoy you but it did, sometimes it is a crime to be Too nice

His favoured company are all sassy bastards so it only makes sense he likes you very much

"You gave them bangles that made them into SAINTS! that's fucking weird! And you had them turn into angels despite the fact they have truama from heaven!"

as mischievous as Simeon can be

His angelic nature really does pop out alot

"aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go ape-shit?"

"Of course not, there's no need but thank you for worrying about me, I know I can seem force and strange to you but I really do enjoy being kind to others."

"disgusting."

Almost fought him during the TSL event; you didn't expect him to do a 360 and become super strict

Despite your hard shell you care alot about the people you're close with and can't stand to see them upset

Luke:

It appears you're trying to throw hands with a 10 year old

He does seem demonphobic

Why are you always denying your true feeling??!! Just admit you like demons!

You try not to swear and be outwardly rude Infront of him

But sometimes this little boy really tests your patience

"Okay species-ist."

Is your main response when he's being a tsundere

He's the one who's the safest from your attitude

[astralpenguin]

@transnaturalweek day 5: t4t

1.5k, ao3 link

“Cas?”

Cas had known that Dean wasn’t asleep yet, and he’d known that Dean’s sleeplessness was coming from more than a simple bout of insomnia. Cas didn’t like to read minds, but he didn’t need to read Dean’s mind to know that Dean was thinking very hard about something. He also didn’t need to read Dean’s mind to know that Dean would speak up about whatever it was when he felt comfortable doing so.

Ever since he’d dragged Cas out of the Empty, Dean had been making a point of being more open with Cas about his thoughts and feelings. Even if it took him a while to get there sometimes, he’d still try. All that Cas had to do in return was give Dean the time he needed to do it on his own terms.

And it was looking like something was bothering Dean right now, and Dean was ready to talk about it right now.

Cas had his arms wrapped around Dean, and Dean’s back was pressed up against Cas’ chest. Dean liked falling asleep in Cas’ arms, and Cas was always more than happy to oblige. He liked having Dean asleep in his arms.

He hummed to let Dean know that he was listening.

“You know how you’re an angel.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Dean broke Cas’ hold on him and rolled over to face him. “Okay, smartass,” he said, a smile on his face.

“Sorry,” said Cas, smiling as well and not feeling sorry at all. His goal with that comment had been to put Dean more at ease and make him smile, and he’d succeeded. “Continue.”

“Angels don’t have genders,” said Dean. His smile from moments ago had faded and his voice was steady. “And you’re an angel. So you’re not a man, right?”

“Dean-”

“This isn’t another sexuality crisis,” Dean continued, talking over Cas. “I know I’m bi, and I’m good with you being. Well.” He gestured at Cas. “Guy shaped. I’d probably be pretty bummed if you switched vessels at this point, actually. But-”

“Dean.”

Dean stopped talking.

Cas put a hand on Dean’s waist. “Angels were not created with a sex or gender,” he said. “And while it’s true that the majority of angels were always, as you used to put it, ‘junkless’-”

Dean shook his head. “I can hear the quote marks in your voice, man.”

“-I don’t think that the same can be said for me anymore,” Cas continued. “I’ve inhabited many vessels since creation. Some male, some female, and many that weren’t human. None of those other vessels were ever truly comfortable. None of them ever felt like they were my body. This one does. It’s the body that I was in when I lost my grace, it’s the body that I’ve been resurrected in more than once, and it’s the first form that the Shadow took inside the Empty in order to communicate with me. It probably helps that I’m the only one in this body. I’m not possessing anyone anymore. But I would also be ‘bummed’ if I had to change my vessel. I don’t think that I would be comfortable inhabiting any body other than this one.”

“Okay,” said Dean. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a guy.”

Cas squinted. The nuance there wasn’t something he’d expected Dean to know. “You’ve been researching this.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

“Shut up.” Dean looked away, towards the ceiling. “Just. It doesn’t though. Right?”

“You’re right,” said Cas. If Dean had been researching the topic of gender in humans, to the point where he’d grasped this particular point, then there was likely a reason for it. Cas wasn’t going to push him on what that reason was. If Dean wanted to share, then he would. In the meantime he had no problems with answering Dean’s question. “Someone’s body does not dictate their gender. My gender does not rely entirely on my body, although for me it is a factor. I don’t know if I’d consider myself to be a man today if Jimmy wasn’t one. But I do know for sure that I was created, as an angel, without a gender, and now I do have one. I’m a man.”

Dean nodded in understanding.

He was still looking at the ceiling.

“Dean?”

“If it’s not just your body that makes you a guy, then what else is there?”

Cas paused as he thought about it. “It’s difficult to describe. Mostly it’s just a sense of rightness from viewing myself as such. Describing myself as a woman feels wrong, as does saying that I lack gender entirely. I’m a man because that’s what I am, and because I never want to be anything else.”

Dean nodded again. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?” said Cas. “I wasn’t sure that it did.”

“It did. I get what you mean.” He paused, still not looking at Cas. Swallowed. And then whispered, “Sometimes I don’t want to be a guy.”

Cas waited for Dean to continue. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to without prompting, Cas said, “You don’t have to be one”

And Dean spoke.

“I know. Damn it Cas, I know. But sometimes I am a guy. A lot of the time I’m definitely a guy and the concept of being anything else doesn’t even occur to me. And then sometimes I think that I don’t want to be a guy at all. And sometimes I think I’d like to be a woman, and I was sure that this was something that everyone thought, because who wouldn’t want to be a chick sometimes? Except I mentioned it to Garth the other day, and he said he’s never wanted to be a woman, or to be anything other than a guy, and apparently most guys never want to be anything else. So I looked it up. I thought that surely Garth was wrong, ‘cause I love the guy but you’ve got to admit he’s a bit of an oddball. But no. He was right. Most guys never want to be anything else. And some of the websites I looked at said that not wanting to be the gender you were born as means you’re not that gender, and that’s even more terrifying, because if I’m not a man then what am I?”

As he said this last sentence, he finally looked back at Cas. There was more fear in his eyes than Cas had seen in a long time. Since their ordeal with the Empty.

Cas put his hand on Dean’s cheek and gently brushed his thumb over Dean’s skin. Dean relaxed some at Cas’ touch.

“You are, first and foremost, Dean Winchester, and the people who love you will love you regardless of anything else. I will love you regardless of anything else.”

Dean relaxed even more at that, like it was something he’d needed to hear.

“I cannot tell you what your gender is,” said Cas. “That’s something you need to decide for yourself. However, to me, it sounds like your gender is not always fixed in place. It changes. Would you say that sounds right?”

“I-” Dean snapped his mouth shut and shook his head.

“Let me rephrase,” said Cas. “Would you say that the gender you want to be changes from time to time?”

Dean nodded.

“Okay.” Cas leaned in and brushed his lips against Dean’s. Dean kissed him back, just as softly. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“But it’s not normal,” said Dean. “Most people just want to be one thing.”

“Dean,” said Cas. “You live in an underground bunker. You have saved the world on multiple occasions. You are in a romantic relationship with an angel. There are significantly more people who experience some degree of gender fluidity than there are who share many of your other life experiences.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I know. It’s just....” He trailed off. Shook his head. “This is scary. I thought I knew something about myself and now it turns out I was wrong, and-” He cut himself off with a yawn. “Man, I'm tired.”

“Then sleep.”

“But-”

“If you like,” said Cas, “after you’ve slept we can look into this some more. There’s no rush or pressure for you to come to any conclusions or apply any particular labels to yourself, but exploring and discussing this some more may bring you some comfort.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I think it might.” He paused. “We?”

“Of course,” said Cas. “Unless you’d prefer I leave you to it yourself. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

“No!” said Dean. He curled his fingers into Cas’ t-shirt and gripped it tight. “No, I want you with me for this. If that’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” said Cas. “I’m here for you and with you for whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Cas.” He closed his eyes and buried his head in the crook of Cas’ neck, mumbling something into Cas’ skin. If Cas weren’t an angel, he never would’ve been able to pick out any of the words. As it was, it sounded suspiciously like Dean had said ‘love you too’.

Cas smiled. It was always nice to hear Dean say it.

[uwuwriting]

Nightmares w/ Fushiguro, Itadori and Gojo

Request: Since you write for JJK now could I req Megumi, Yuuji and Satoru where reader has a nightmare and they have a sleepover? - anonymous

Heehehehehehehehehehe the first ever JJK post on here and oh boyyyyyy. I love all of them so much but Yuuji and Megumi just hit different. Ah the flavor. This may not be the song post I had promised yall earlier today but I couldn’t help myself after reading a bunch of thirst posts from @jujutsucurses​  and I just felt the need to contribute to this fandom.  Love ya.💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: nightmares, some tears but mainly fluff. 

Fushiguro Megumi

-Ahhhh I love this man so much fiohwohfo.

-He gets why you have nightmares. 

-Your latest mission had gone south leaving you the sole survivor of the whole ordeal. 

-He could see the fear in your eyes the moment you stepped into the school but since he didn’t want to expose you in front of the others he had just grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before giving a firm squeeze. 

-It was a simple reminder that he was here with you. 

-That you were alright and nothing could hurt you now. 

-So when he heard the soft knock on his door that night he knew immediately who it was. 

-He already had your favorite hoodie of his splayed on his bed and a fluffy blanket so you could cuddle before bed maybe vent to him if you wanted. 

-Opening the door he came face to face with a teary eyed you clutching the ends of your sleeves in a vice grip while your voice trembled as you spoke. 

- “C-can I sleep h-here tonight?” 

-He wasted no time in pulling you into a hug and leading you to his bed, motioning to the hoodie as an invitation. 

-He turned around while you changed, walking out of his room for a moment to grab you a glass of water only to be stopped by a small whine. 

- “I’ll be right back angel.” 

-In two minutes you were cuddled up under the fluffy blanket, your ear pressed over Megumi’s beating heart as you balled his shirt in your fists, wanting him as close as possible. 

-He couldn’t do much. 

-You hadn’t spoken since you came in and no matter how much he hugged and rubbed your back he couldn’t stop your trembles. 

-Raising his knees, he caged your form closer to his body peppering kisses on your hairline as he continued to rub small circles on your back. 

- “Wanna try to sleep?” 

-You looked up at him before burying your face in his neck, giving him a small nod before hooking your arms under his. 

-Without moving a lot, he laid down kissing you again before closing his eyes. 

- “I don’t know what happened and you don’t have to tell me. But I can see how much it hurts you and I can’t just let that go on, so what do you say you stay here for the next few days?”

-You could only nod in agreement as you nuzzled more into his chest.

- “I love you.” 

-It was a restful week. 

-Although you did have Gojo teasing you and warning about unplanned pregnancies. 

-Nobara couldn’t understand what you saw in Megumi *um girl is you blind?* and kept sneaking into his room. 

-Yuuji….didn’t really care, he gave you guys a wave every morning when you got out for breakfast and that was really it. 

-Makki cannot wait to tell Todo that Megumi has a girlfriend who stays in his room every night. 

Itadori Yuuji

-Baby boiii.

-He is so cute omg. 

-I cannot begin to describe how much I love him and his stupid fluffy pink hair. 

-Anyways back to the point. 

-He knew that his ‘death’ had shaken you up. 

-It had been weeks until his classmates found out that he was indeed alive and well. 

-That Sukuna had resurrected him and that everything was fine. 

-In those weeks he also knew that you mourned him and that you most likely blamed yourself for what happened to him. 

-You were there, you saw Sukuna rip his heart out from his chest *literally*. 

-He remembers seeing the terror behind your eyes as he watched the scene unfold while under Sukuna’s control. 

-He remembers how you scrambled out of the car despite your bleeding injuries only to get to him. 

-It haunted him as well at times. 

-He couldn’t get your face at that moment out of his mind. 

-But despite your fear for him not being next to you in the morning during breakfast, you had never bothered him before. 

-Nobara had to calm you down more than once but you had made her promise to not outer a word to anyone if she valued her bag collection.  

-Tonight though you had an aching feeling that you wouldn’t find him in his dorm. 

-That you had lost him again and that caused you to rush to his dorm at 3 am, frantic knocking almost waking up Megumi next door. 

- “Babe?” 

-He was right there in front of you, hand raised to rub his eye the other one underneath his hoodie scratching at his stomach. 

-He is alright, he is not dead, he is alive, he is okay- 

- “Hey hey why are you crying? Y/N baby what’s wrong?” 

-He pulled you inside quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you flush to his chest, his worry sky rocketing when you started full on sobbing while clasping his shirt. 

- “Y-you’re o-okay.” 

-And with that he knew immediately what this was all about. 

-He never expected you to have a breakdown. 

-Your rage the moment you found out he was alive and then the lecture he got from you were the only reactions he had gotten about that incident. 

-But here you were, crying your eyes out because you thought that he was gone again. 

- “P-please don’t l-leave me a-again. P-please Yuuji.”

-Scooping you up in his arms, he let you wrap your legs lightly around him as he took you with him to the kitchen to grab a glass of water in hopes of calming you down. 

-Unlike Megumi he wasn’t about to leave you alone in his room not even for a second. 

-When It’s time to finally go back to sleep he won’t pull you off of him he’ll just lay you on his chest with your head over his heart. 

- “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m alright. We’re alright.” 

Gojo Satoru

-In all of his years as a sorcerer he had never seen you so defeated before. 

-It was a rare sight and one he never wants to see again.

-Being a teacher in the same school as him made keeping an eye on your idiot of a boyfriend easy. 

-Or so you thought. 

-You were with him on the car ride to meet principal Yaga when he said to leave him on the side of the street. 

- “I’ll find you at Yaga’s darling.” 

- “Sato what-”

-He had simply kissed you before closing the door mouthing an ‘I love you’. 

-He had worried you out of your mind.

-You had sensed the presence of immense amounts of cursed energy at some point while you waited which only made the matters worse. 

-He will be fine, he is the best for a reason. 

-No matter how logical those thoughts sounded you couldn’t fully convince yourself.  

-He came later than other times and you could see he was a little disheveled. 

-Not much because he is Gojo Satoru after all but you were able to notice.

-Later that night he told you what had happened and you got into a small argument about his recklessness and how he shouldn’t keep you out of things like this. 

- “We are a team Sato, we always have been. No matter what you don’t just tell me to leave.”

-You had both gone to sleep with slight frowns on your faces, the bitter taste of your argument still present on your tongues. 

-Despite it all he still clung to you, his arms wrapped securely around your middle as you nestled back into him. 

-He woke up at an ungodly hours because you were fidgeting next to him. 

-Trembles and soft sobs racked through your body, your eyes still closed but your brows had furrowed, a grimace present on your features as you turned this way and that. 

-Your hand was clutching his oh so tightly, small whimpers leaving your lips as sweat rolled down your forehead. 

- “Darling? Wake up.”

-You shrunk away as he went to nudge your shoulder with his other hand and that’s when he realized that he wasn’t going to wake you up so easily. 

-When you had nightmares it could only go one of two ways. 

- A) you woke up before Satoru even realized you were having a nightmare or 

- B) you couldn’t wake up at all unless Satoru splashed you with water or maybe an earthquake happened. 

-Apparently this particular night you wouldn't be able to wake up. 

-Bringing you into his lap with his fingers still intertwined with yours, he swayed back and forth as more trembles shook through you. 

-He hated it when you had nightmares. 

-He felt so useless. 

-He couldn’t protect you from them, he couldn’t stop them and he couldn’t fight them. 

-He could only try to calm you down by making his presence clear while you battled them alone. 

-You were right, you two have always been a team and will always be one.

-That will never change no matter what. 

- “I’m here, darling, I’m here.”

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[slvtbible]

yours, mine and ours

summary: your former partner left you during your pregnancy then after four months you met Harry, who took care of you and the baby. years later an unwanted guest shows up at your house at night

a/n: hiii! i was bored and realized i haven’t written in a looong time. GOLD is still in the making, don’t worry. but lately i’m a sucker for dad!harry so here it is! if it sucks i’m sorry, i’m a little rusty after not writing for a while. nevertheless hope you all enjoy it! give me feedbacks after! xx

***

Back in college, you met whom you thought was the love of your life. It all started when he asked to borrow a pen from biology class and had asked you out shortly after to hang out with him. You were inseparable ever since. You two had begun dating for over two years and the thought of being with someone else new didn’t even cross your mind back then, the two of you were too in love. Even your friends were getting sick of it. He had treated you with love and respect, your family loved him and vice versa. The thought of getting married had always been a conversation between the two of you and you were so sure of it. 

But your future fairy tale had ended when you found out you were pregnant. You woke up with a headache before fleeing towards the bathroom and threw up on a toilet bowl. When you bought a pregnancy test from the nearest pharmacy to make sure, you were terrified but at the same time delighted that you were pregnant. You thought that Brian would feel the same way as well when you broke the news to him. Instead, his face fell. He was angry and upset, asking you how could you be so stupid to let something like that happened. He wasn’t ready at all. He loved you but he wasn’t ready. His priority was now his work and he’d be damned to let a baby ruin that for him. At least that’s what he said.

You were broken and disappointed when he left. The whole thing was frightening you. How on earth could you possibly take care of your own baby alone? Your family lived in a different city and although you have friends who care about you, they still have their own lives to deal. It was crazy and you were losing your mind. 

Then you met Harry. A sweet, shy yet gentle loving man who adores you. You two met at a supermarket. You were craving for a yoghurt and had no one else to ask to buy it except yourself, although your feet were tiring and your back was hurting it must have been done. Harry was nearby when you were struggling to grab the item due to the height. He walked over to you and helped you by giving it to you. He was so sweet and kind plus he was a sucker for pregnant women, he loves babies. 

For twenty minutes the two of you were talking and had shared a few stories here and there, it felt really really good. It has been a while since you talked to people other than your mother and your best friend, Janice. He was telling you how he loved coming back to this city because LA had always been such a pressure to him and he needed to get away from all of that. When he learned that your former partner had abandoned you while you were carrying a child, he was angry yet he remained calm on the outside. How could anyone hurt a gorgeous woman like you and left his own baby because of his selfish needs? How?

And that’s when he asked you out to go to lunch, he promised himself to take good care of you and be there for you whenever you needed something.

Now, here you are at twenty five years old, working at a local hospital and has a two year old daughter along with your beautiful fiance. You feel so happy to be with two people that you love more than anything in this world. Nothing could ever replace them.

“Mommy look! I drew unicorn!” Your daughter, Bella squeals. Excitedly showing you her drawing full of purple and pink color. She is honestly the cutest baby you have ever seen.

You smile down at her as you are preparing for dinner, wiping down your hands on your apron. “Wow baby! You’re really good, aren’t you my little artist? Why don’t you show it to daddy when he gets home?” You lean down and kisses her chubby cheek,

She giggles and nods her head before running off to the living room to draw some more. You go back to put a few utensils on the table when you hear the front door open,

“I’m home! How’s my two beautiful girls doing?” Harry walks in with a huge grin on his face. Work has always been so stressful for him but knowing that he gets to see his girls at the end of the day always turns his frown upside down,

“Daddy!” Bella squeals, running quickly towards his tall broad figure and hugs his leg as she laughs, “You home!”

Harry’s smile is even wider now, lifting his leg up before grabbing her small body and holding her close to his chest. “How are you my baby angel? Were you being good to mumma while I was out?”

Bella nods, wrapping her tiny hands around his neck. “Missed you daddy. I drew unicorn! Daddy see!”

Harry smiles and kisses his baby girl’s cheek and puts her down. “Really? You did? Go and get it then, pumpkin” he says, petting her head before she walks off,  excited to show her daddy. After he sees her rushes towards the living room, he turns towards the dining room, seeing you place the home cooked meal. The sight of your hair up in a messy bun and dirty apron causes his heart to swell, you may think you look absolutely ridiculous at the moment but to him, you still look beautiful as ever.

“Hi, lovie” He greets you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “I’ve missed you at work today.”

You look up to him and give him a warm smile that he always adores, pecking his soft lips. “Hi, H. How was your day?” You ask, untying your apron before putting it down on the counter,

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh, giving you a weary smile. “Better now that i’m home with you. Couldn’t wait to get home to see my two favorite girls. Was pretty bored.”

“Mhmm, i’ve missed you too. I switched my shift with Maya today so no night shifts for me, I get to spend time with you and Bella.” you say, heart warms when he pulls you closer and pecks your forehead, taking your hand as the two of you walk towards the living room

“Finally. Bella has been dying to watch Toy Story 4 with us. Said she doesn’t wanna watch it alone with me, wants her momma too.” He says, pulling off his coat before placing it on the couch. His eyes then turn to your daughter, whose hands are busy grabbing all of the drawings she created. “Are those it, baby?” he asks, kneeling down to her level,

She gives him a toothy smile and gives the papers to him. “Look daddy! This one for you!”

Harry’s heart warms at her statement, gasping slightly as he takes the paper from her little hands. “Oh really? Thank you so much, baby! Daddy will keep it forever!”

Bella giggles and pecks Harry on his cheek before moving her tiny legs towards you. “Mommy, pee.” she says, her big brown eyes looking up to you as she tugs your pants,

You laugh before picking her up. “Okay baby. Harry, love, can you please take the lasagna from the oven please? And go place it on the table. We’ll eat right after Bella takes her potty.”

Harry gets up and nods his head, “Sure thing, bub.” He walks back into the kitchen, taking out the lasagna from the oven and nearly waters at the smell. You sure really know how to cook.

“God, i’m a lucky son of a bitch.” He mutters, smiling softly and places the food on the table. As he struts his way towards the living room to wait for you, he hears a knock on the door. He frowns, looking at the clock noticing it is almost 7pm and wonders who could it be. He doesn’t think you or him called anyone.

The knocks don't even stop, so he slowly makes his way to the front door before grabbing a bat just in case it was a stalker or worse.

He unlocks the door and the sight causes him to almost fall on his knees. He doesn’t even need to ask who he is. He knows exactly who’s the bloke.  The same man who broke your heart years ago, left you with a baby to take care of and had made you fear of falling in love again because the trauma was unbearable. 

Seeing this man standing there and all Harry sees is a picture of you breaking down to tears, blaming yourself for what happened and wishes that you could be good enough for this son of a bitch. He sees red. But he needs to remain calm and collected or else this could go downhill.

Brian is startled, seeing Harry open the door is unexpected. He thought that it was you instead. “Uhh, does y/n lives here?”

Harry crosses his arms, clenching his jaw. How could this asshole even dares to say her name?

“Yes. Can I help you?” Harry asks, leaning against the door frame. Struggling not to kick his ass.

“I uh kinda need to talk to her mate. It’s kind of important.” Brian says, shoving his hands inside his jacket,

“You’ve lost that privilege a long time ago. She doesn’t wanna see you. Get out.” Harry demands. There is no way in hell, Harry would let this man talk to you. Even for a slight second.

Brian scoffs, “look man, you think you know about our relationship but you don’t, now can you go get me y/n? I’m not leaving until I see her.”

“Get off my property before I call the police.” Harry threatens, clenching his fists. He is absolutely ready to throw a punch if he doesn’t leave,

Brian is about to say something back to him, that is after you walk back and call out Harry’s name making the two men freeze,

“Harry? Who’s that on the door?” you question, putting down Bella on her playpen. Your heart stops beating for a couple seconds, you swear it, soon as you see who’s on the front door. 

“Brian?” you squeak, lips beginning to tremble. You cannot believe he found out where you live and had the guts to stop by. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, y/n” Brian greets awkwardly, seeing you walking closer to the front door. Harry sees how your demeanor changed in a sec. That’s how much this Brian guy had made you suffer and he can’t accept that.

“Just came to say hi.”

“Say hi?” you ask beginning to get mad, tears fill your eyes as he smiles softly at you. “You left me with a baby, alone. You blamed me for everything that has happened and you thought that it was okay to stop by and say ‘hi’?”

Harry breaks when he sees you like that, your voice cracks. You were being just fine, already forgot this bloke for what he did to you and now he showed up years later to ruin that.

“Baby..” Harry starts,

“I know i’m so sorry but i am here to let you know that i’m a changed man. I still love you all these years. I was wrong to leave you with the baby. I’m … ready to be a father to our baby. Ready to be with you again. I promise i won’t ever leave your side again, love.” Brian says, eyes never leaving hers.

For a second, Harry’s face fell. He’s very much upset with it. With this Brian guy. The word ‘father’ coming from his mouth is just like a stab to Harry’s heart. A father?! Brian was never the father and never will be! Harry is! He loves Bella and treats her like his own daughter--because she is!-- and no one could ever replace that. 

“It’s a she” Harry butts in, glaring at him. Gently pushing y/n behind him because he can no longer see her breaks,

“What?” asks Brian dumbfounded,

“The baby is a girl. And she is not yours. She’s maybe your blood but i’m the one who’s been taking care of her, i’m the one who loves her, i’m the one who helped y/n throughout her pregnancy and i was the one who’s there when y/n gave a birth. You are not her father but I am.” Harry says, stepping forward, chest to chest with Brian.

Somehow, brian doesn’t see Harry as a threat, instead he laughs. “Call yourself whatever you want but that’s MY daughter. And I am ready to be there for her, both of them. That’s my family inside not yours.” Brian seethes. 

Harry can no longer express his anger because he was too hurt. So he pushes Brian and sternly says, “Get out.”

However Brian isn’t finished, he has something else to say but that soon cut off when you interfere,

“Get the hell out of here, Brian. You are not welcome.” you snap, feeling yourself might break down,

“y/n please…”

“No!” you yell completely exhausted by now, “get out now!” you threaten, ready to close the door.

Brian looks at her for a while to see whether she could change her mind but noticing that she won’t, he scoffs, shaking his head and back away from her before walking back to his car and driving away.

you sigh out and walk back inside the house before closing the door. Soon as you walk back in, you see your fiance standing in the middle of the living room with his head hanging down and his hands on his hips. You can tell that what happened has upset him. He is close to crying and you can’t help but feel your heart breaks at the sight.

“Harry, baby..” you call out, walking towards him and standing in front of him. Putting your finger under his chin and making him look at you. Your eyes sadden as you see his eyes beginning to get glossy. “He’s gone, baby. He left. It’s okay.”

Harry sniffles and nods his head as he looks at you. “It’s just.. I love Bella and you. He’s not her father but I am. She’s OUR baby not his. Ours. i know i may not be her real father but--”

“Stop. you ARE her real father. You may not be her blood but you have done more for her and me than he ever did. Yes, she is ours. She has always been our baby, my love. Bella calls you her dad not Brian not anyone else. She loves you. You’ve always been there for her, right? You’ve never left her side.” you say softly, placing her hands on the either side of his cheeks, thumbs rubbing softly underneath his eyes.

He begins to smile softly after what you just said to him. His heart and soul are warm now, he should’ve known that you and Bella are his family not that bloke’s. He proposed to you and Bella calls him ‘daddy’. He is so lucky. Nothing could change that ever. He was there to mend Bella’s booboo, he was there when you needed him to get groceries because you were working late and won’t be back home till 10, he was the one who was lucky enough to have a movie night every friday with Bella and you. 

He was the one who got to witness Bella’s first ballet recital with you and had her run towards him after the show was over, calling him ‘daddy!’ over and over to ask him whether she did great on the recital or didn’t, he was the one who Bella made a pancake for on Father’s Day and gifted him a ‘world’s best daddy’ drawing with him and her on the paper and lastly he was the one who gets to make love to you every night, confessing each other’s love and gets to take care of you after, cuddles you close to his chest not caring about the sweaty bodies.

“And you should know that we both love you with all of our hearts. No one could ever take that away. No one.”

[multific]

My Angel

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: This wasn’t the “I hate him, I fell in love “scenario, you genuinely felt disgusted by Billy, or did you?

 Billy used to be a complete asshole.

He was the kind you avoided at all costs. He was the kind mothers warned their daughters about. When in reality it was the mothers who should have been warned.

You hated him. Everything he represented and was. Even the way he took his breath was annoying you. Ever since he sat down in class right next to you, and started flirting with you like you were a piece of meat.

However, your mind changed for the better one night.

You saw him driving in front of you, a typical fast driver with no care of the world. He disappeared down the road. You continued on your way home when you suddenly saw his car, his windscreen broken but surprisingly the car was in a good shape. Since you thought he might have been in an accident, you pulled over. Billy wasn’t in the car, you were worried since he might be injured.

“Billy?” you called out but no answer came.

Then you hear a scream coming from the building beside you.

“Billy? I swear if this is a prank…” but when no answer came you headed in. You saw Billy holding onto the side of the railing as something was pulling him down. You ran to him and saw what grabbed him. You couldn’t believe it, you thought the gate was closed.

“I can’t hold.” you hear him say and knew you needed to do something. You grabbed a nearby heavy metal and threw it on the creature. With an “Ugly, bitch.” you were happy when it let go of Billy’s leg and ran away.

“Are you okay? Did it bite you?” Billy immediately stood up, but his leg seemed to be hurt.

“What the fuck was that?”

“It’s dead now, let’s go, I don’t think it was alone.” you helped him back to your car and put him into the front passenger seat and you took the driver’s seat. You took a mental note of the place. Hopper and the others will need to know about this.

You drove away and back to your home.

“Did you hurt your head?”

“No.”

“Only your leg?”

“My leg’s fine! I want to know what the fuck that was.” you knew you needed to lie, ever since the events of the last two years, you were one of the girls in the lab, the oldest one. You could control other people’s minds so you convinced the lab that you weren’t much to their use, and you were set free. You could sometimes control people’s minds, read their thoughts when you wanted to and heal others with your touch. You have been living a normal life ever since. Two years ago, Eleven got out as well and you were reunited. Then the lab closed, you thought everything will be okay.

“A wolf?” you asked skeptically.

“Don’t fucking lie to me! That’s wasn’t any animal!” he kept on yelling about how it ruined his date, jeans and car. You had enough.

“Yeah, because you’d believe me if I said it was from another dimension right?! Because you’d fucking believe if I said that my sister and I are a psychic, yeah a wolf is totally unbelievable.” Billy looked at you like you were crazy and for the first time you met him, he was silent. “Just don’t say anything. I’ll take you home, patch up your leg and then you can get back to fucking mums and ruin families. And I’m the crazy one.” He still had that stupid shook on his face. You gave him space and quiet for the rest of the ride.

Once you arrived to your home, you opened the door and then went back to the car to help Billy. To your surprise he let you help him. You went in and helped him sit on the couch.

“Put your leg up.” he didn’t argue. He put his leg up on the couch next to him. This is when you noticed how severe his injury really was. He either had a high pain tolerance or he didn’t want to whine.

“I’m sorry what I said before, but you can’t tell anyone about this, about me.” you looked at him, practically begging. “They will lock me up again, I cannot be locked up again! You don’t know what it’s like, the darkness, the emptiness. And the tests, oh the tests, please. Please, Billy, don’t tell anyone.” panic set in as you realized what happened, although the lab was closed, you never stopped to worry that another lab might take you, you couldn’t take chances. Billy realized the genuine fear in your eyes and all he could do is nod, but that wasn’t enough for you.

“I need you to say it, Hargrove!”

“Okay, okay, I promise!”

You let out a long sign and placed your hand on his wound. Billy looked at you and watched his wound heal itself. It wasn’t even a minute and his leg was back to normal. You were surprised he didn’t freak out.

“You should probably wash up. My bathroom is at the end of the hallway on the left.” you told him and got up to get a towel.

He took a shower while you sat in the living room. You blamed yourself for telling him so much. You shouldn’t trust him with such information, so then why did you?

There was just something about his eyes. Like he was begging for someone to save him, and not only from the monster that grabbed him. He soon came out of the bathroom. He was all cleaned up.

“You can ask. I can talk about myself maybe that will give you some answers.”

“So, who are you?”

“I hoped you’d at least notice me, we go to the same school, in the same class, and you even sat down next to me once.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I know that. I meant like how can you just heal me with a touch??” for the stress he went through, you found him to be rather calm.

 “Honestly? I was born with it. The place I grew up in was… bad, horrible. I was experimented on, they wanted to use my powers and only by controlling the people there was I able to get out. I’m not here to hurt anyone, I just want a relatively normal life, you know for being a monster I rather prefer simple things.” you let him absorb the info you told him. But you could tell there was still some questions in his mind.

“I can control people sometimes, real their thoughts and heal wounds. And I’m currently experimenting if I can do more when I really concentrate I can move small things. No, that’s not a weird question, I can block whose thoughts I’m reading so it’s not overwhelming when I’m in a crowded place. And I can communicate like this.” you answered all of his questions and the last one Billy could only hear in his mind.

“Amazing.” is what he said. “So that thing, that attacked me.”

“It’s not from our world. But I will make sure it goes back to where it belongs. You know for a guy like you, you are awfully quiet.”

“Well, excuse me, I think I just barely survived, then I learn that you have superpowers the last thing I want to think about right now is talking.” he pulled his cigarettes out but you took them from his hands.

“No smoking in here please. I will head to bed now. You can sleep here, oh by the way, I think your car is fine, it was left beside the road. Goodnight.” you stood and went into your room.

Billy slept on your couch that night and in the morning he went to get his car, then home.

You really hoped he won’t tell anyone. And in the meantime, you made sure the guys and Jim knew about what you saw.

The next few went on pretty normally. Bill continued his job as a guard at the local swimming pool, and you went back to your job at the mall. Everything went smoothly. Although Dustin almost got you into some mission against Russians, you didn’t want to get involved.

You worked in a shop as a shop assistant, selling clothes. One day, Max and El came to get some clothes and they said hi to you. The same day you were the one to close the shop, so it was rather late when you left to go home. And since your colleague drove you to work that morning, you needed to take the bus home. But when you got out, you saw an all too familiar car at the entrance with an all too familiar looking guy leaning and smoking against the car’s hood. You figured he was waiting for someone else so you just headed to the bus stop, but then you heard your name.

“Y/N!” you were surprised to know that Billy Hargrove knew your name. “I’ll drive you home, get in.” Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to sit next to the bus-creep or that you wanted to avoid the sexual remarks of the bus driver, but soon you found yourself in Billy’s car.

“Slow down, will you? I don’t plan on dying early.” you were extremely uncomfortable at how fast he was driving, and to your surprise, he slowed down. “Thank you. You drive like you are rushing your wife because she’s about to give birth,” you said with a huff, but your comparison made him laugh.

“Never heard that one before, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me cringe.”

“Doll? Sugar? Princess? Babe?” at that point you knew it was pointless to argue so you just looked out of the window. “Look, I have been thinking.” he said with a serious voice.

 “Wow. Hope you didn’t hurt your head.” you didn’t know why you were so mean. Maybe it was because of your work you were tired of the fact that he spent the night and you didn’t sleep much.

“Very funny, but no. And I have decided that you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?” if you were drinking at that moment your drink would be all over his windscreen.

“It’s logical. I’m handsome and full of muscles. And you have superpowers. You saved my life, so you are a perfect choice.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Doll. I know you want this too.”

You looked at him for a second before anger filled you completely. You made his car stop immediately, Billy could have flown out of the windscreen but you held him there.

“Listen to me, Hargrove. I’m not a new name on your list, and I will never be. I respect myself too much for that. I told my deepest secret and you are treating it like that’s only to me. I’m more than just that. Second of all, “full of muscles and handsome”? You are the biggest dickhead I have ever met. And to blame your father for it, ridiculous. You are your own person, just because he treats you like shit, you should never do that to others. Yeah, next time maybe hold your dreams in. I’m sorry what happened to you and you have been through a lot. But no. I’m not going to be your girlfriend so you can show me off like some kind of circus animal.” with that you got out of his car, shutting the door as you started walking home. You heard him start the car and he rolled along next to you, with the window rolled down, he started talking.

“You didn’t let me finish, Y/N.”

“Leave me alone, Hargrove.”

“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend just so I can show you off!” he stopped the car and got out, grabbing your hand and turning you so you were looking him in the eyes. “You are the first person I have felt safe with. And I’m not angry that you looked into my head, my father is a dick, and yes it made me one too. But when I was at your house that night, I finally felt safe. I could sleep without the fear of him getting in or yelling at me. I know how I behaved in the past was horrible, but yesterday changed me, you changed me. I have been thinking about this for the last few days, I think its love. Because I never felt this before.”

You still didn’t want to believe him, obviously, Mother Nature was on his side, so it started to rain.

“Get in, you’ll get soaked!” but soon Billy realized that you stopped the rain from getting on you, like an invisible umbrella. “Please, just let me take you home, it’s the least I can do after what you did yesterday.”

You decided to stop being a brat and got in.

“How’s your leg?” you asked silently he barely heard it.

“Hmm? Oh. Perfectly fine thank you, you really are an angel, My Angel.”

“I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t fair with you. You just annoy me.”

“I was called worse before, so no worries.”

“You annoy me Billy. You with your flirting, your perfect skin and hair and eyes. It annoys me how much I like you. I’m just like every other girl at the school who lusts over you.”

“Lust?”

“That’s all you got from that?”

“No. I got the part that my skin is perfect so are my eyes and hair.” there was a smile on his face and soon you smiled too. Seeing him happy made you happy as well.

“I won’t read your mind again, ever. I promise.”

“Feel free, Angel. To be honest not really much is going on in this department.” he said motioning to his head. “But this department. It’s always open.” he said lowering his movements to his crotch. It was obviously just a joke to make you smile, and it did. Soon you got to your home and he stopped the car turning to look at you. “How about I take you out tomorrow? We can have dinner or whatever people do on a normal date.”

“Dinner sounds nice.” you said nodding your head and avoiding his eyes.

He moved his hand to your cheeks and moved your head to face him, his eyes stared into yours as he leaned in to plant a small kiss to your lips. It was a short kiss, but it was all he needed.

“Then tomorrow Angel.”

“Six.”

“I should pick you up at six?”

“No, that was my name in the lab.” you shoved him the number on your arm. “Number Six.”

“Well, I prefer Angel. My Angel.” he said as he pulled your hand up and kissed your tattoo.

 After that, you got out of the car and he drove home. Both of you excited for tomorrow’s date.

 The day Billy got attacked, he changed. He met you and his eyes got opened. You became his everything, his safe place where he could be truly himself. Sure, with others, he was the same, but with you and with those who mattered, he learned to be himself.

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[jemej3m]

HAVE U EVER THOUGHT OF A BAND!AU?? i love band au's and ur work!!! (not to mention but i think u would write an excellent drummer!andrew)

are you kidding me??? have i ever thought of a band au? bruh i breathe band au’s

also, i wanted this to be soft, so have some childhood friends starting a band out of their mum’s garage :DD

*

“Can I now?”

Neil ducked his head, trying not to show Andrew his grin. “No, ‘Drew.”

Andrew cocked his head. “How about now?”

Neil turned around and arched a singular eyebrow at the man. “You cannot shove your drum stick through Kevin’s brain, Andrew. Not now: not ever.”

“I hate you,” he muttered. Neil just grinned. 

“You say the sweetest things to me, ‘Drew.” With that, he turned and continued to tune his acoustic. Behind him, Andrew was going bright red. 

What started as a friendly, neighbourhood band had turned into something else entirely: Neil and Andrew were cramped backstage, tuning and warming up. Kevin was probably talking to his mom on the phone, whilst Nicky was most certainly trying to escape their security detail and go flirt with fans in the event centre’s foyer. He could charm a crowd. 

They’d started the band up when they were just kids: Neil remembered Kevin grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him across the street, where he’d noticed the three Dobson boys setting up instruments in their garage: Nicky on bass, Aaron on keyboard and Andrew on his drumkit. 

Neil, having been only 11 whilst the others were 12 or 13, wasn’t as outspoken or enthusiastic about joining them as Kevin was. 

“Come on, Neil,” Kevin insisted, dragging him by the elbow. “I’ll sing and you play the guitar. Okay?”

“It might be fun, Neil,” his sister, Dan, insisted, giving him a gentle push out the door. “It’s just messing around in a garage band. Nothing serious.”

If little Neil knew where he’d be, nine years later, he probably would’ve spontaneously combusted out of paranoia and fear. 

Adult Neil still got anxious - he always wanted to perform his best - but it’d taken years of gigs and scouts and labels to work them up to where they were now. It was a gradual process, which definitely helped the whole stage-fright thing. 

“What are you thinking about?” Andrew inquired, sitting down behind Neil and hooking his chin over Neil’s shoulder. He smiled, leaning back against his best friend. 

“Just stuff,” he responded. “How we got here. Where we’ll go.”

“Next stop on the tour is D.C.”

“Funny.”

“Yes,” Andrew agreed, deadpan. “That’s what I’m known for.”

Neil just laughed, getting to his feet. “We’d better get ready before Kevin comes back.”

“Your brother is the worst,” Andrew grunted, following suit. 

“At least we’re not related,” Neil grinned, jostling Andrew’s shoulder. “You can’t talk: you’re Aaron’s twin.”

Andrew just pointed a stick at Neil in warning. 

*

The lights were flashing. Audience screaming. Neil opened his eyes out of his reverie and looked to his counterparts: Nicky was rushing up and down the front lines, giving out as many hugs as he could. Kevin was waving and blowing kisses. And Andrew - 

He stood behind his drumkit, shirtless and dripping with sweat. He still bore his armbands, brimming with blades and secrets, and in his hands he loosely held his favourite pair of drumsticks, a pair Betsy had bought him, one’s he’d been careful to not break. 

Neil’s mouth was dry as he walked over to where Andrew stood. A spotlight blazed from above, shrouding Andrew’s head and illuminating his hair like a golden halo. He looked angelic. He was angelic. 

“You were amazing,” Neil said, voice lost under the cacophony of the crowd. His hand was reached out, gently brushing the bare skin of Andrew’s bicep. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore: the post-show euphoria was driving him. 

Andrew didn’t need to hear him. He could read lips. Read intentions. 

They were ushered off the stage soon after, Neil’s ears still ringing, his fingertips still burning. Andrew tugged on a fresh shirt, a towel around his neck. He had the most laborious job out of all of them, save maybe Kevin. Neil looked away from the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck. 

“Good show,” Kevin panted, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Neil nodded, the exhaustion of playing for four hours settling in. His shoulders ached, fingertips raw with playing both his guitar and the keyboard (Neil filled Aaron’s vacancy when he’d fucked off to college) whilst his throat ached from countless harmonies and backups he sung for Kevin. 

Genuine praise from Kevin was rare and prized for their band, and was usually reserved to the few moments after a performance finished. Then he’d go back to his regularly scheduled criticisms and evaluations. 

“Wasn’t it?” Nicky grinned. “We are such hot shit sometimes! Anyway,” he slung his guitar off to the side, careless. Neil winced a little. “I’ve got a cutie waiting in my car, apparently.” He winked. “His name’s Erik and he’s built like a wall. I’ll see y’all tomorrow!” 

“Jesus Christ,” Kevin said, not unkindly. They were all used to Nicky’s antics by now. He looked back to Neil. “You gonna stay with Andrew or me?”

Neil narrowed his eyes. Was he going to stay with his brother or his best friend? The choice wasn’t exactly hard to make. 

Kevin put up his hands. “What? I thought you two’d had a lover’s spat or something, before the show.”

“Kevin,” Andrew warned, voice low. 

“You guys weren’t as synthesised as you usually are,” Kevin continued. “Did Neil say something, again? Neil, what did you do?”

“Kevin,” Andrew snapped. 

The man took his final warning with a grain of salt and rolled his eyes, peeling off to cool down and head back to the hotel. He left Neil standing in the middle of the corridor, baffled. What the fuck was he talking about? A lover’s spat?

“Don’t think too hard, junkie,” Andrew muttered, fingers hooked into the collar of Neil’s shirt. “He’s just sprouting his usual bullshit.” But Andrew couldn’t look him in the eyes. 

“Right,” Neil agreed, smiling weakly. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Shut up,” Andrew tugged him down the corridor with a finger hooked through Neil’s belt loop. 

Neil went willingly. He always went willingly with Andrew. There was no one else in the world that he trusted more.

*

“What do you mean, you’re not a thing?”

Neil paused with his fingertips up to the door, ready to push it open. It seemed as though he had stumbled upon a conversation - perhaps not for Neil’s ears. 

“He’s not interested,” Andrew said, sounding exhausted. “And I’m not about to pressure him into something he doesn’t want.”

Huh. Maybe they were talking about a new guy. Andrew didn’t date that often - or very successfully - and he was usually not willing to talk to Neil about it whenever it did happen. Neil wasn’t quite sure why but respected his boundaries nevertheless. He just didn’t know that Andrew went to Kevin about it. 

Neil wondered who it was, this time. Roland? He’d been the most long-term thing Andrew had ever attempted. No, Andrew said he wasn’t interested in Roland. Unless he was lying. 

Andrew doesn’t lie to me, Neil reminded himself. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kevin insisted. “He’s been in love with you ever since he first saw you. Don’t give me that look, Andrew. Put away your knives.”

“Do you think so?” Andrew asked, voice low. Gravelly. Tainted by disbelief.

Something in Neil’s chest tightened. He sounded…hopeful. Neil was arbitrarily jealous. Who was this guy? 

Wait, why was Neil jealous?

He pushed against the door, ignoring the way that the two of them shifted so that it didn’t look like they were engaged in conversation. 

“We’re loading up the bus,” he supplied. “Time to get moving.”

And if Neil noticed the way that Andrew walked around him, careful not to brush their knuckles, well. 

He didn’t say anything. 

*

By the end of the third week, Neil couldn’t handle it anymore. He wasn’t sure what he’d done, or why Andrew was so adamant in avoiding him, but he hated it. He hadn’t felt this isolated since his early years when his father would shut him in a wardrobe and his mother would scold him for eliciting his father’s ire, before both of his parents died and Wymack adopted him into his strange little family, brought him into the tiny cul de sac  where Betsy Dobson and Abby Winfield lived with their own collections of abandoned kids. 

“Andrew,” he mumbled as he watched Andrew tuck himself into his own bed. They were sleeping in the same hotel room but they were millions of miles away from each other. Neil felt stiff and confused. 

Resigned, he shut the light off. 

*

“Fix it,” Kevin demanded. 

“Fix what?”

“Just tell him already. It’s getting nauseating.” 

Neil narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kevin threw Neil’s lyric notepad back at him. “‘Living limbless, lost, lonely, ever since you went and left me’? What do you mean, what am I talking about? I thought you two were already together - now he’s saying you were never interested? What the fuck, Neil. You’ve been practically married for years.” 

Neil blinked. “Me and -”

“Andrew, yes, who else?” Kevin continued, irritable as he scrawled down new ideas. “You’re so fucking dense sometimes - ow!” 

Neil stuck out his tongue, satisfied with the large black line his thrown pen had left behind. He fished out another pen from his bag and kept writing, letting Kevin’s banter distract him from how painful his chest felt. 

*

The tour was ending. They were looping back to South Carolina. Andrew hardly looked at him anymore, let alone spoke to him. Kevin looked at Neil with pity. Nicky tried to cheer everyone up with icecream. 

Neil couldn’t understand why they were falling apart. What had he done? What had he said? 

The screams irked him. They sounded less ecstatic and more afraid. Neil was falling apart onstage, overthinking. They’d just played for Charleston, one of their last stops on the tour. 

The curtains came down. Neil couldn’t move. The others were already off the stage. Neil couldn’t breathe. 

“Neil,” Andrew said. He couldn’t look Andrew in the eye. How was he to explain that Andrew’s estrangement had left him in such a miserable state that he could hardly perform without breaking down? 

“Neil, look at me.” 

Neil closed his eyes. “Whatever I did - I’m sorr -” 

“Abram,” Andrew whispered, before pressing a bruising kiss to Neil’s lips. His eyes flew open, though he didn’t move. It didn’t matter: Not a moment later, Andrew ricocheted back, hand over his own mouth. In his other hand, his favourite drumsticks snapped, falling to the floor in uneven halves. 

By the time Neil had opened his mouth, Andrew was gone. 

Neil spent the drive to the pub they’d chosen to ride out their performance high in silence. Andrew was stoic and unmoving, silent despite Nicky’s attempts at conversation. When they arrived, Neil felt like he wanted to throw up. 

It was bustling at the late hour, but dark enough to slip in unnoticed. Neil followed Andrew up to the bar: at one point, someone shoved into Andrew and Neil felt him press Neil against the marble top, warm from shoulder to shin. Neil wanted to lean back into him. He wanted Andrew to look at him, to talk to him. He wanted Andrew back. He wanted Andrew. 

Quickly, he turned around, ignoring the bar tender when he asked if he was sure he wanted a virgin martini. Andrew was right there, pupils blown, cheeks red. Angry. 

He was furious. 

“Andrew,” Neil insisted. “Why -” 

He grabbed the tray of drinks and disappeared before Neil could form a sentence. 

And - well. Neil wasn’t known for subordination. 

He waited patiently for the others to get drunk and disappear into the crowd, like they always did. Sometimes Nicky dragged Neil with him, if the night was right. Andrew usually just sat, patiently waiting for his family to return to him. His whiskey sips were cautious and slow. 

Tonight was different. As soon as they were alone, Andrew stood, knocked back the entire glass and strode towards the exit. Neil let his breath hitch and followed, almost jogging in order to keep up with Andrew’s stride. 

“Andrew, this is insane,” he said as they walked down the street, leaving the bar behind. “I’m losing my mind here. Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you even look at me? What did I do?” 

“Exist,” Andrew snarled, hands curled into fists and shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket. 

Neil ran ahead of him, almost tripping over the uneven sidewalk. They’d walked far enough that they seemed to have removed themselves from any remnants of the club, and instead were stood in front of a circular, patheon-esque church and its haphazard graveyard. 

Andrew stopped walking and stared. In the moonlight his skin was pale enough to be translucent. 

“Tell me,” Neil whispered. “Truth for truth. We promised, Andrew. To never lie, to never leave. Why did you kiss me?”

“You promised,” Andrew corrected him. “I swore I would have your back. Does that have to constitute being attached at the hip?” 

Neil crossed his arms, petulant. 

Andrew’s sigh was aggravated. “It was never meant to be a problem.”

“What was?”

“You.”

“Andrew -” 

Fingers curled in the collar of his shirt, then slipped across the warm skin at the nape of his neck, then tangled themselves into Neil’s hair. Andrew pulled their foreheads together, squeezing his eyes closed too tight. Neil wanted to iron out the crease between his brows. 

“‘Drew?”

“Shut up,” the man croaked. “Shut up. Shut up.”

“Andrew,” Neil said, weakly. “I wanted to kiss you.” 

Andrew’s nails dug into Neil’s scalp. “No you didn’t.”

“Yes,” his fingers carefully found their way onto Andrew’s jaw, forcing the man to look up at him. “I did.” 

Andrew just swallowed, red-cheeked. 

Neil pulled Andrew closer, head dropping to Andrew’s shoulder. His heart throbbed like a drumbeat, heavy and insistent and never, ever out of time. “Is that what this is about?”

“No,” Andrew lied. 

“I think I like you, ‘Drew,” Neil whispered into the skin of Andrew’s neck. “I think I really do.” 

“I hate you,” Andrew managed, sliding his hands around Neil’s waist and holding him close under the Charleston moonlight. “I hate you.” 

“I know,” Neil managed, closing his eyes. It made a lot more sense, now. 

Between their erratic breathing and racing pulses, a drumbeat formed. 

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Kira Vol 2 (3)

The Mistress

CHAPTER 3: Is This Jealousy

Loki x fem!Reader (Kira)

Series: A new chapter begins in Kira’s life. Old secrets, new confessions, surprising allies and unexpected meetings. All of them have one name in common. Loki.

Chapter content: soft feels

Warnings: a teeny weenie bit of jealousy

Word count: my cousin is awesome. She is such a pure soul and I am so protective of her that I will beat the hell out of anyone who tries to hurt my little- but tall- baby.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

The bubble of slumber has barely found Loki when a ripple of scream shreds every ounce of peace this house knows. The silence of the autumn suddenly sounds like a Hallow's Eve blood bath when Loki's body dashes towards the source of the voice. He does not even think for a second, his body already charging itself towards the stone-y path, his son outrunning him on his fours to come to a skidding halt at the foot of her bed. "Kira," he calls out with a contrasting tone compared to the rigorous beating of his heart.

But she does not hear. Her eyes are wide open, looking at the window in her room while her cries wear her lungs out. All she screeches are the words 'no' and 'stop' repeatedly while looking at the empty space. What disturbs Loki, even more, is that she is numb to the blood oozing out from where the needles were once sticking into her are ripping her skin apart. The duvet that covers her is being used as a shield against whatever she is afraid of while the blood smears the fabric with a new hue wherever it comes in touch with it. There is fear in his eyes for what he plans to do, but the fear of watching her writhing in pain like this far outranks it. And so he takes the first lunge by sitting down next to her and slowly taking her trembling hand into his. She yelps and jolts away from his cold touch. "It's me. Kira, look," he calls out to her while switching on the bed lamp close to him, "It's Loki." Her shivering figure cowering away from him takes its time to hear his voice while he patiently waits by the edge. He knows he has to let her come to him. Or he might lose her again. And it would already be one too many times. "Loki?" She has no idea what her frail voice does to that man's being. He can feel an electric current drive from his head to toe and all he can do is sit there nodding his head. "Yes, I'm here." That man has barely finished his sentence to breathe when he feels heated arms being thrown around his torso while her head wants to hide in his chest. "There's someone out there. There's someone out there, Loki." Silence. What is he supposed to feel right now? The otherwordly elation on the touch of her arms, whose heat seeps through the soft cotton and is absorbed by his thirst-ridden skin? Or should he feel sad for the suffering that does not seem to leave her even when she heals? In the swift moment, his rational brain scolds itself for having not having any intelligible actions ready like it usually does; for being useful during the one time it should be working at one hundred per cent capacity. "Please," a whimper comes from his chest, "make it stop." Like a flip of a switch in a cornered animal, Loki's pupils go wide while his arms come around her back with a life of their own. The cold palms hold the sweaty shirt on either side, making a barrier around her. "Come here," he whispers, pulling her closer to him, letting her rest her head in the dip of his shoulder while his body seeks all the unnecessary heat from her untethered figure. "Nothing can hurt you, I promise. Okay? No one can hurt you. I'm here." The wails dilute to sobs under the rhythmic soft pats of Loki's palm on her head in between soothing strokes through her hair. "I'm here." The sobs reduce to loud inhales and exhales, trying to find the resting point of her lungs. The patting continues into the dead of the night when unexpected rain showers wash away whatever bad lurks in the beautiful dark night outside, making her eyelids heavy and her body heavier on Loki's chest. Finding the strength inside him, Loki takes her head in his palm and carefully drags her down the bed to let her head rest on the pillow. The tightened nerves inside him relax when they hear her light snores, convincing him she is finally asleep. It is not easy to drag himself away from that angelic face resting so tranquilly but he puts his foot down on the floor- ready to let her rest- only to find a strong tug on his shirt by her fisted hand, pulling that loosely woven pure threadwork closer towards herself with wrinkles in between her brows. "Kira."  That man is now suddenly a little boy standing outside the study of his father, from where a mellow golden light flows out into a river at the end of which he stands with a unicorn in his tiny hands, his green eyes twinkling with the dance of both shadows and light as he tries to look inside through whatever space the barely open door allows him. Little Loki witnesses his father carry his brother in his arms, telling him stories of kings and princes that conquered lands and brought peace by defeating all evil; narrating his love for the golden boy and boasting to the air in that room how he will be the next man to take care of the empire that his father built for him. Outside, the raven-haired boy stands patiently before turning away to walk through the endless corridors to his room where the nanny is already waiting for him anxiously. "Loki! Where were you? Now is not the time to sneak out." The little one does not bother explaining for he goes straight to bed under his covers, his eyes towards the ceiling to look at the stars put up on there by the servants for his musings. "Mother says stars walk alone," Loki stated out of nowhere for the nanny to hear as she tucks him into the bed, "because they burn bright for everyone. She also says I am a star. A really bright one." "Of course you are," the woman smiles at him while wondering where this talk was coming from. "I don't think she knows that I know stars can burn whatever comes near to them. It is not even practical to be a star without dying a cold death." Margeret has to gasp. "Relax Margeret. It is the work of gases. You would not understand." And saying that, he turns to face the other way. "I don't want to be a star," he mumbles, wishing upon those bogus stars a wish that crumbles with every passing breath in his life till there remains no evidence of these ashes that were ultimately tagged as hollow hopes. Hopes that seem to be reborn without so much as a warning when Loki finds himself lying down next to her and she- without even a conscious effort- pulls herself upon his arm, burying her head in his chest, facing away from the world. A jolt of shiver runs through her body, immediately bringing Loki's arm over her shoulder, overworking his already imbalanced heart. But the calm finds him in her presence just as it finds her in his arms. The night outside, fresh out from nature's bath feels the need to notice its presence not acknowledged by the two souls that used to let their demons roam in her robe. Now, those very souls rest them in each other's arms, devoid of the exhaustion that once haunted them in their loneliness.

"Okay, I'm already putting this out there so no judgments are made later on...I just learned how to drive. You don't get to say how bad I am. If you are scared to sit next to me hold on to your seat. If the car stops in the middle of the road do not rush me, I know I am bad with shifting gears and the accelerator right now. Oh, and at no time will you offer to drive instead. Okay?" Loki's eyes take in your body on alert in the driver's seat of your dad's borrowed Suzuki. You adjust the rearview mirror and look at the controls, mumbling some things to yourself before double-checking the seat belt and starting the engine. He cannot help but stare at your elation with heart eyes when the car starts without any trouble. What churns up the lights inside him is that crazy giggling smile stuck on your face.  "I'm driving a car," you squeak at a really low volume while your neck disappears and your shoulders go up in tender excitement. By the Norns, who made her this cute, he truly has to wonder without realising a goofy smile has invited itself on his lips and has been sitting there even for Heimdall to see outside the gate when you exit. "That good a breakfast, huh?" He teases his boss, who is quick to hide any evidence of joy on his face. Sadly the master strategist and deceiver can't hide it from his eyes. "Did you get all the work done," Loki does not even move his brow when talking to the Watcher. "I had a nice breakfast too, thanks for asking," he is quick to acknowledge that cold stare, "and yes it's done. So, where are you guys headed?" You scoff, raising your hands from the steering wheel. "At least act surprised to see me driving even if you know it already." Heimdall chuckles. "I'm taking Loki to show around my town. Wanna c-" "Oh good, Lord!" Loki blurts out of nowhere, making you jump where you sit, "turn the car, Kira! There's a cat about to walk under it!" "What?" "Turn it out of the driveway!" "But-" "Let's go! Before it tries to climb the wheel!" You are hastily shifting the gear to drive. "They do that?" "Now! Now!"

This is his first time. And he still cannot believe it is happening. Well, shame on me for thinking only Odin had the finest colonial lands. Trees line up both sides of the roads that are cleaner than the supposedly progressive concrete jungle that you two left behind for a while. The patience all the drivers have on the road with their cars in a smooth drive is really impressing the man, besides putting him at ease considering his heart has taken the wheel. There are people out and about on the sidewalks. And there are people exploiting the cycling tracks to get their blood pumping in this cold weather. Kindergarten kids, school kids, college kids- there are clusters of them coming and going; some sad to leave their parents, while others are running and skipping towards theirs. This city is coloured in every hue imaginable even in the coldest of days. And unlike the iron world, he sits atop, this one seems like it takes out time to look around. The car is parked in a spot right outside a local city museum and unlike you, someone notices the line of expensive rides next to yours while their owners are huddled together over one with beer cans and cigarettes. Every one of the five men standing on the other corner wear brands that equal your one month's salary. "Let's start with this place," you bring Loki out of the calculating trance he is in since the second he laid eyes on the men that has been staring this way, "so we can get out and enjoy something much better if you get bored of this place." Loki smiles at you and makes it a point to walk towards your side to place his hand on your back, mellifluously ask, "shall we?" and walk away with you with the energy that marks the five feet around you as a zone not to be stepped in.

Well, it is hard to get bored of your face no matter how long he looks at it because he is certain he has memorised every little scar on it till he watches you fascinated by the medieval art displays. Your eyes have the deepest ocean of y/e/c ever seen that goes shallow for that black endless void that widens on seeing something that curates to its curiosity. Your lips. Damn those lips that have been blessed by the Gods themselves. They turn and pout in question, are tormented by the teeth when something does not sit right and are touch in a peculiar fashion by your fingers that Loki forgets he has to breathe at one point. He envies the fallen eyelash that sits on your cheek; envies that it gets to touch you and be prayed upon for a wish or desire while he stands to praise nature's work from a distance. But he does not let that bother him for he cannot recall any other time when he has been this content with his life.

"Point at anything in here and you will love it." "Really?" "Mm-hmm. They are really good at everything they make." "Oh...that's-wait. Is this the place that serves that pasta you keep comparing to everyone else's?" Your face is already breaking into the smile and Loki's heart cannot help but whisper 'stop' while running a marathon. "Yup." "Okay, so I'll have a-" "Kira?" Loki turns around before you to see who recognizes you and if it is a threat. "Henry?" The marathon comes to a pause for there is a little prick that is felt right in the chest. You recognise this man with a decent scruff, wide eyes and a bubbly smile. He has already been read head to toe by Loki. He does not seem like a threat. "Hey!" greets Henry before swooping you in his arms and giving one tight hug which leads to your alleged date to grind his teeth. How dare he. "How are you?" "I'm good. What about you?" You don't have to ask him that. He looks fine for someone who just got up from his sleep and drove here. "Fantastic now that we meet." Right. As if you were miserable before. "Where are you these days?! I've met CJ and Kat but never you." "She's with me," Loki declares. And that is when you notice the shift in the energy around you. "Henry, this is my boss, Loki. Loki, this is my school friend, Henry." You watch as Henry brings his hand forward for Loki. "Nice to meet you, man." Loki reciprocates but you can tell by that sharp cut of his jaw that something bothers him even though he isn't being vocal about it like he usually is. "Wait-" Henry's narrowed eyes are already telling Loki something he is tired of hearing- "Loki as in Loki the guy from Sun Corp. The Loki who went missing for two years before-" "So I heard from Kat you're opening a rest-" you try to divert the conversation. "Yes," Loki affirms much to your surprise, "that very Loki." And a smile. "Damn," Henry whispers. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. And you two are invited to my restaurant's soft launch today. Kat will give you the deets and you have to bring Loki." "Oh." You are a little dazed by the incomprehensible smoothness of this conversation. "Uhh..." You feel the brush of Loki's arm with yours when he closes the distance with the two of you. "We will be there," he concludes with his smiling eyes while you are wondering all the reasons you could be feeling this sudden gush of warmth in your cheeks. Nothing escapes Henry's eyes and that bubbly smile. You two have never been close which is why you are wondering why this guy is so excited to meet you. It hits you after a few seconds that the reason you were noticed might not have been because of you but your company. You are still thinking about it when you and Loki settle down in the corner seat looking out the bakery shop. "You don't have to go if you don't want to," you stress, reaching out for the bill in Loki's hand that he has already paid for. But that sly man is already pulling the receipt away from your grip. "I'll go if you go. And considering you are a textbook people-pleaser around your friends, you will be going tonight." All he reflects for your slightly unhinged and offended jaw is his smirk that has a tendency to stir something up inside your gut. "Correct me if I'm wrong." "I am not a textbook people plea-" "You went out to visit Kat even when your leg wasn't healed because she said you had not met her in a while." You scoff. "W-It was true! I hadn't met her in a while and I-" "And because CJ said she was mad at you because you hadn't answered her texts and calls." You do open your mouth to contradict but nothing comes out except a defeated sigh. "You could have told her about your health." Loki tilts his head and melting eyes that have their full attention on you. And you are feeling the goosebumps all over your body from that dedicated stare. Did he always look at me that way? The sensible voice in your head clears her throat and wonders...He could look that way to anyone. But your inner voice is already dancing. Look at the face, woman. Drown me in shallow waters if he isn't head over heels for you. "I...have used my health as an excuse for multiple occasions so I don't think it'll cut for them anymore." There is a slight crinkle in between his brows that does not seem to get as much attention as his tongue that darts out to wet his lips. Why is that even legal? Your inner voice is angry while it involuntarily purrs. "It is your health, Kira. I am pretty sure your friend will understand. Would you not rather that your friends tell you they are not fine instead of hearing about it when it all gets worse someday?" You turn your toes to internally curse yourself on realising he has a point; a very good one. "I'll talk to her," you agree and thank the waiter who brings you your lemon and mint iced tea and Loki's cold brew. "Okay," you sing with crackling judgment humming in your voice as your eyes are stuck on Loki's dark drink, "since when are you into coffee? I haven't been gone that long." "My existence will disagree," he mutters without so much of a thought as he lets his lips touch the straw in great anticipation while his eyes look up at the blank bump of an expression stuck on your face.  Heart thumping to the beats of embarrassment, your brain shuts down, pulls away the glass of cold brew and pushes your iced tea towards him. "Just have the tea, you monster." You try really hard to keep up that frown on your face while your insides want to come out and confirm the words he just said. "Me? A monster?" If you did not know any better, Loki would seem flabbergasted right this second. You narrow your eyes and let sarcasm drip just from your expression. "I have seen you murder your employees without even having to raise a weapon when you aren't in a good mood. Trust your assistant, Mr Loki, coffee is not your friend." "Are you sure?" He narrows his eyes at you and crinkles his nose. "Do you see anyone else being worried about you?" you direct at the surrounding with your hand. There is a tilt of his head and crossed arms come to rest on the table. "So, you are worried about me?" Your eyes pause any movement to stare into his for a moment so long he can feel his soul bare in front of you. "Someone has to..." He is left numb with that look on your face. "Because I am too tired to find another job." Numb from the heart attack he just had till he feels his senses coming back to let him wack in the back of his head and let him know how he got played. What is better than those microscopic jolts of relief he is feeling on your skin is your wide-toothed laughter then nearly pinches your eyes close. Whoever is watching him right now can without a strain of doubt point out at the man in love, looking at his life shine brighter than anyone in the room while he pauses all that he is doing- even breathing- to look at you like it is his first and last time doing so. Whoever is watching him is suddenly craving for a longing look like that; whoever is watching you envies what you can do to that beautiful man putting a good number of insecure humans to shame. "Oh my Gosh-" you suddenly break out of your laugh with a sudden realisation- "I almost forgot about him." Loki, the stoic-as-ever man- who is nearly bending over the table ready to dissolve- furrows his brows at the thought of you remembering someone other than him! "Who?" he asks with a surly taste in his mouth. "Fenrir! How is he?" "Oh." You are somewhat puzzled at that flawless face going from a simmering stare of potential judgment to an innocuous reflection of understanding. "He is as fine as he can be," he shrugs and scratches something on the nape of his neck, making your eyes dart at the bit of exposed skin under the maroon that is royally screwing up with your head with pictures you do not want to be imagining in public right now. "So, he is being a bitch," you summarise for him. He nods in agreement, bringing back his hand and leaving that exposed microscopic yards of his shoulder and neck to be devoured by your stare so hard even the devil would blush. And unbeknownst to you, the devil hath blushed multiple times. "I think he misses his roommate," Loki throws the statement nonchalantly, pulling your iced-tea back to him. "Aw," you squeak a little putting your face in your palms and glittering eyes, "I miss him too." "Then get back to work, Miss Kira," Loki's flat and stern tone softly plays on his tongue, "you have had more than enough of vacation time." "Excuse me?" "What." "I got my bones broken for my company." Loki shrugs and sips your tea. "I nearly died for mine. Big deal." "Wow," you exhale. "Fine. I need a raise." "Okay." "..." "What."

"Just like that?" "You nearly died for the company. The company wants to thank you for your unwavering loyalty." You don't really know what to say next. You never planned this far, thanks to your impulse. That is till the socialist in you finds a silver lining. "Cool," you tilt your head in your palms, "then you can cut my salary for a few more vacation days." Concluding it with a wink. And Loki feels his insides sigh. Never in a million years could he have imagined a soft face like hers would hold the ultimate power to melt his insides like this.

Nature watches again. Through the windows and winds that enter at the opening and closing of the door. Two souls more than just content in their hearts to be in the presence of the unexplainable they thought they lacked. That little boy inside Loki is sitting at that table looking at you with all the innocence and love he can feel in his little heart; all that he wants to give to you. Little Loki knows who the star is and what it is like to be in its presence. And he would not have it any other way. The bakery plays a lofi mix of Just Want To Be The One You Love as these two closeted lovers bickered and enjoyed their much deserved time together, never knowing the company far away clicking pictures of their private time together before disappearing into the crowds and cars on the road outside.

[lvlyhao]

「PART THREE: FAMILIARITY」

HUMANITY SERIES; Q.K

A/N: guess who forgot to update lol they’re whipped i just— also two surprise appearances hehfjfhsjh

important: i can’t think of anything??? the general warnings are in the masterlist if you wanna be sure none of them is a trigger for you!

word count: 2.8K

pairing: qian kun x reader

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

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Cussing like a sailor, you trudge towards the man, who's catching his breath by the sidewalk. His glance instantly darts to your face, about to say something. You cut him short, though, too disturbed by the fear that still clouds your every action.

“We have to leave while we can. Like right now.”

“H-how do you know I’m not infected?”, he asks, abruptly realizing something even more critical. "How do I know you are not infected?"

He backs away, then, gorgeous features closing off in hesitance. While he stares at you, you think his voice is much, much more angelic than you thought. It drips with uncertainty but is beautiful enough to make you forget how to speak for a minute.

"Uhm”, you clear your throat, now looking for your weapons. It's a good attempt at escaping his piercing eyes, but it dawns on you. He has quite literally no reasons to agree with what you were planning.

"I'm immune, actually. My DNA has some mutation that I honestly cannot explain that well. You", you pause, scanning his defensive form before going back to putting away your knives. "You are definitely clean. It's been over 15 minutes since I arrived: no walker bit you or you would have, at least, screamed. If by some chance it happened and I was not aware of it, I would have seen it in your eyes by now. It's the first part of the process", you grimace.

The guy stays silent while you speak, taking everything you say into consideration. You find it makes sense to him if his relaxed posture is anything to go by.

Finishing up with your arrows, you promptly head back to where you came from, assuming your companion is close behind.

“Wait!”, he trots, halting in front of you. “I… I don’t think I can go with you.”

You could say it's the dumbest thing you have ever heard, but your yell from earlier begs to differ.

“I can see you don't trust me, and you have no reasons to, but this is how rescue missions go. I see someone in danger, I do my best to get them away, and we go to my settlement, where we can hopefully be stronger by numbers. We can get there if we run." Your voice is borderline dull, almost like you have made that same speech 500 times in the past few days. It would have made him laugh, under different circumstances. Yet, he plainly breathes, running a grimy hand through his hair. 

“It’s not that”, he peers around, lost. “I came to the pharmacy for medical supplies for one boy in my own settlement. He needs them as soon as possible, or I’m not sure I’ll be able to help him at all. Besides”, he tentatively lifts your dominant arm by the sleeve of your jacket, careful not to touch you. “We should clean that and put some bandages around it, even if I don’t have the time to stitch it up.”

You are not sure what part of his speech you should pay attention to first.

“You have a settlement?” The question bursts its way out of your mouth before you can think better, but he doesn't seem to mind. Lips curling into a proud smile, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Yeah, I’m currently the father of 6 children from the college I used to attend”, he snorts.

“That’s amazing! I’ve been mapping this area for some weeks now, and I never found anyone”, you smile. “I’m currently the parent of”, stopping, you count the names in your not-chewed fingers. “16 children? Around that. I swear there's a new name every time we make the roll call."

Studying his kind expression, warm under the red sunlight, you feel as if you could talk to him for hours. I'd never get bored. Your situation seems small, squeezed all the way in the back of your mind. It's clearly much less important than your attractive stranger.

Gasping quietly in realization, he sobers up. He pulls you by your jacket once more, just as delicately, and keeps you close.

“Listen, I understand you have people to take care of, but you said you could get there in time if you run. My boys are not too far from here. I think it would be safer for you to come with me for now, at least wait until morning. Otherwise", he gulps, "we will both be in more danger."

You reflect his words guardedly. You are painfully aware that the clock is ticking and each second spent here makes it a bit worse. When the sun goes down is when things get seriously nasty. The night would swallow you whole before you could get to the campus, and then your eyes would be useless. You wouldn't be able to see any walkers or even traps you came across. You'd be a sitting duck. 

Sighing, you know your decision has been made.

I can only hope Taeyong forgives me for this.

With a curt nod, your free hand gestures for him to lead the way. He seems awed by how fast you agreed but decides against mentioning it. Instead, he gives you a gracious smile and goes on. He stands just past the crushed glass, where you can now see a coffee-coloured messenger bag on the once-white floor. Something seems to be fidgeting inside of it, and you stiffen.

Before you can ask about it, he drops your wrist. Picking up the bag gently, he cradles it to his chest and looks at the inside softly. He coos, speaking in a language you know to be Mandarin. That’s when it pushes out—the little, furry snout of a puppy, licking his hand and whimpering. 

It's like your systems just crashed.

“You have a dog in your bag?”

Laughing briefly, he turns to you again. Cosy inside of the leather is a tiny Beagle, looking at you with bright eyes. You can't help but think it's ridiculously adorable.

“Well, not at all times. I found her wandering around here, but one of her ears was bleeding and she’s limping”, his voice lowers to a whisper, watching her with concern. “One of my boys is a vet student. I thought maybe we could help her.”

Choosing not to question it, you simply nod. The bleeding ear would explain why she stayed here even with the noise. Her hearing must be quite damaged.

“And I’m assuming the medicine or whatever you needed is also in there?”

He's serious once again, reminded of the primary reason for his trip.

“Yes, I placed it in separate pockets and smaller bags. We are good to go.”

A breeze swiftly races inside the barely lit building. It’s a warning of how fast the twilight is coming, and he takes it. His quick steps sound first, light on the ground, and he checks to see if you are coming. Understanding of his rush, you jog along.

“I didn’t forget about your hand, by the way. I know a safe spot close to here where we can stop for me to treat it.”

Staring at his broad shoulders, your breathing hitches as the throbbing in your fingers come back. Treatment would be useful before you have to amputate it, but...

“Do you know how to do that? Not to doubt your capacities or anything, but I can just clean it with some water later.”

Running to come up to his side, he playfully eyes you. He is moving so naturally along the streets you imagine he must know this route well.

“I am a med student. Uh, was, I guess.”

His striking traits are highlighted by the blue hour, hues of periwinkle ghosting over his nose, forehead, cheekbones and lips. He chuckles airily, and you are conscious of how surprised you must look.

“A med student. That’s pretty helpful, huh? I’m sure you care very well for your friends."

From the corner of your eye, you see pink spread over his face. He glances up to the sky, lost in his own head.

“I try to. Our youngest has just turned 20. I can’t imagine what it must be like to go through this at that age.”

You hum.

“I know how you feel. I’m watching over an 18-year-old”, sighing, you think back to the freshman dance student at the settlement. You pray he doesn't feel your absence so strongly, familiar to his tendency to cry.

Comfort sparks in the way your companion bumps his shoulders into yours, drawing you out of foggy thoughts. When your heart suddenly tries to break free from your ribcage, you swallow dry. Could I not find a worse moment to develop a crush?

Beating yourself over your feelings, you travel silently, sometimes admiring the starry skies. It feels nice to be like this, almost… at peace. Funny how you can feel that way around someone you barely know while touring a town full of bloodthirsty beasts.

“Ah”, he breaks the silence awkwardly. “I still don’t know your name.”

You wince at that, realizing you were forgetting about it. It's like I've known him for ages.

“Sorry. I’m Y/N”, your voice is soft, rivalling the autumn winds.

“Y/N... That’s a beautiful name”, he compliments, eyes finding yours. “You can call me Kun.”

You say his name out loud, testing it, and giggle. It feels nice in your lips.

---

The trip to the first hiding spot was fast, just a matter of minutes cruising under the starlight. The place is a dainty, small wooden cabin, right at the foot of the mountains that surround the city. All around you are bushes and fireflies, that blink over stray pieces of cars. How they got to here, in the forest, is a mystery to you, but then again, a lot of things do not make sense anymore. It's simpler to overlook it and get inside, plopping down on a rusty chair as Kun grabs a flashlight from a corner.

His hands work quickly, and with confidence, like medicine is in his blood. It's impressive, but, most of all, painless. His touch is even gentler than Tyong’s and feels warm against your cool skin. A tiny smile plays on your lips the entire time, watching him and the sleeping puppy discreetly.

After that, your wounded hand is snug against the white bandages and the sting lessened. You feel like you could go on for miles, but Kun only laughs and tells you to calm down. No way you two are running uphill to his house.

“Wait, you mean you guys live… up there?”, you point, and he follows your finger, contemplating the towering trees of the forest nonchalantly.

Seeing your dubious expression makes his heart crack a little. He understands how intimidating it is: the dark, unknown forest. Who could guess what lurks between the twigs, spying on the few, brave souls that dare cross their territory?

“I know hiding from zombies in the woods sounds a bit weird, but I promise it’s safe. They have a hard time traversing the trees because they’re so closely set. Also”, he studies the grass beneath his feet, feeling a mix of shame and hesitance himself. “We might have planted a few landmines around the perimeter.”

The sound you make then is something between a wheeze and a gasp.

“How did you…?”

“I preferred to not question when Yukhei showed up with them”, he breathes, sounding like a tired father. “There’s a protected path we’ll follow, though!” He makes a face at how he saved the most important detail for last. I have no idea what is wrong with me today.

But, Kun thinks, secretly relishing on the way you shine under the moon, if you’re scared, I’ll hold your hand.

---

The journey to his house is more serene than you guessed. There are no walkers you perceive. It's almost like this place is completely cut off from the world, far away from real danger. Although maybe that is just Kun's effect on you. You have not failed to notice how tranquillity seems to flow out of him in waves, wordlessly comforting your wild heart. It's nothing like you have ever felt.

I met him two hours ago.

Once again shaking off your feelings, you try to focus on the other things that surround you. The crickets, the faint crunch of the grass and fallen leaves, an owl, how smooth his skin could feel under your fingertips...

Oh my god, you cringe.

As you steady yourself against the trunk of an oak, your shoulders finally loosen. Not too far ahead, you can see something that resembles a ski cabin, surrounded by barbed wire, and with orange light pouring from the windows. The path you walk on is surrounded by sharp wooden stakes from both sides, but the place still feels homier than the campus. 

You don't notice your grin until he smiles back, taking your hand in his and continuing the walk. You remain quiet until the ground changes from grass, pebbles and mud to beaten earth, and you stand right outside the fence. It's far taller than you, with the metal glittering intimidatingly. If the landmines had not made you feel safe, this definitely has. 

Kun, still grasping your hand delicately, surrounds the house with an attentive look. He searches for something and stops a few meters from where you were. It’s always simple to find—the crossing point—and he spins to face you.

“If you don’t mind holding the bag, I can cross over first and then help you. Is that okay?”, he asks, looking for approval in your eyes.

Warmth takes over your heart at his caring nature, knowing he could have just gotten in and expected you to not hurt yourself.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

With no other words, you reach for the bag, and hug it against your chest, observing the sleeping dog in your arms. While you are distracted, Kun steps on the lower row of wire and carefully places his hands on the upper one, creating a space he can shimmy through. 

He pays close attention to where the barbs were, but does it calmly, and gets to the other side with a small sigh. He then gestures to the bag, stepping on the wire once again, and passing it over with even more care than he had for himself. 

The moment he takes the bag from you, you feel your fingers brushing. While you both pretend not to notice, the heat rushing to your cheeks speaks for itself. Neither one of you mention it.

Then, it's time for you to get in. You can admit you are a bit apprehensive. Kun’s frame is sturdier than yours, in general, and he was just fine, but the idea of sneaking through sharp thorns is not exactly exciting.

Kun seems to know what you feel, and gives you a sweet smile, hoping to calm your nerves. He places the bag on the ground gently, trying to keep the puppy asleep. The process, then, starts over. 

One foot over the first wire, a hand on the upper one and the other stretched out for you to grab. The wind picks up abruptly, and you can't tell if you shiver from it or from the grip of his fingers on yours.

“No need to hurry”, Kun whispers, eyes trained on where your body is concerning the barbs. He, time or another, tells you to bend a little lower or higher, and pulls more at the cable. To your relief, though, all is well. After a minute of wiggling, you touch the other side of the fence and allow yourself to rest. 

“You did good”, he praises, patting your hair kindly. You sort of feel like a kid, but maybe not in an unpleasant way. 

Tardily letting the tiredness from the day catch up to you, your brain slows down, and your limbs ache. You had not noticed Kun was already up on his feet with the bag until a hand shows up before your eyes, a silent offer. You take it without a second thought, letting him pull you up. 

From then on, your mind gave up on processing a lot of what you did. You were nearly sure you went up a row of stairs to a wooden deck, the floor squeaking under your boots. Your new friend still holds your hand securely, which you are thankful for when you trip on a loose board. His eyes examine you for a second, making sure you're alright before he turns to the door.

It is also made of wood but painted red and unyielding. Letting go of your fingers, he knocks 3 times, waits a couple seconds, and then 4 others. The house, so far still, erupts into hushed cheers and shouts. Kun can only shake his head, holding in a smile, and look up when the door flies open, candlelight spilling out. The slim figure that appears nearly throws himself in Kun’s arms, but freezes when he sees you and the bag.

“Y/N?!”

“Hendery?!”

“...You two know each other?”

---

final notes: don’t question the way the virus works. just don’t, ok

[thran-duils]

Devils Look Like Angels (Ch. 14)

Title: Devils Look Like Angels (Chapter 14) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Psychotic!Castiel. An unhinged, criminal, supernatural artifact collector extraordinaire… and the reader caught his eye. It will not take her long to realize that beneath the charm and mystique is a crazed killer who will go to great lengths to woo her. Words: 2,967 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Stalking, angst, death/murder, violence 

Author’s Note: I know it’s typically Mondays but I couldn’t wait. lmao ~~FINAL PART~~ please note MUCH ANGST and DEATH

Chap 13 || Masterpost || Fanfic masterpost

The radio silence was more unbearable than Castiel trying to reach out and connect with you. No texts. No calls. No letters. No gifts. It is what you had wanted, but now that it had come to pass, you were more on edge than ever before. Too afraid to reach out yourself – not that you wanted to really do that… to give him any indication you were not serious. You spent the days fretting about what he was planning. Or if he was planning anything at all. You may have angered him enough that he never wanted to see you again. There was no way to be sure where he was at mentally now.

You refused to leave the bunker once more. After you had told them the extent of Castiel’s frustration at your rejection, Sam and Dean were afraid to leave too. But still, they had to leave. You all agreed two was better than going alone, so they went together. Holing up in the bunker alone set your anxiety off every time until they came back through the door.

And one night, they did not come back.

After the first hour, you texted them asking what the hold up was. After the second hour, you texted again, pacing nervously. Immediately, you pressed call when they did not respond within a few minutes. Both calls went to voicemail and you left messages for both, demanding that they call you back as soon as they got the message.

A couple more hours passed, more texts and calls going unanswered. When you noticed your stomach growling, you made a sandwich, all the while obsessively checking your phone. You could not distract yourself. You knew what was wrong. You felt it like a rock in the pit of your stomach. You just could not bring yourself to make the call.

He did it for you and you answered after the first ring.

“Castiel?” you rasped.

“Hello, love. It is wonderful to hear your voice. I have missed it something fierce.”

Shakily, you asked, “Castiel, did you…”

You could not bring yourself to ask him outright.

“I have a game for you,” Castiel said lightly. “A tough one, my sweet, I admit. But it has to be done. For us. Come home, Y/N. I am still here. Contrary to your belief, the cops did not come looking. I wish you had trusted me on that. I would not willingly put you in danger.”

“Castiel, what did you do?”

He ignored your question, “You are expected by our guests. It will be a housewarming party to remember, you can count on that. I will see you soon, kitten.”

With a click, the line was disconnected.

You were out the door in a flash, fearing the worst for Dean and Sam.

<> <> <>

You were armed with your pistol you kept in the lockbox underneath your seat in the car. In your rush, you had not been able to arm yourself with concealed knives, but this would have to do. Castiel would probably be unhappy you had come with it but frankly, you did not care. He had your family held hostage. At least that is what you had to keep telling yourself to prevent you from going to deep down the rabbit hole. If he had already done something worse…

The hours it took to get to your destination dragged despite how fast you were driving. When you finally arrived, you found the front door was unlocked. Gun raised, held tight in both hands, you moved through the large house, checking corners as you entered rooms.

Your foot on the first step towards the second floor caused a loud creak and you swore quietly to yourself. Gun raised again, you moved up the staircase, keeping your breath even. Opening each door was a rush, not knowing what to expect on the other side. The house was quiet, each room empty that you had come across so far.

You came to a stop in front of a set of double doors at the end of the hall. You took in a careful, deep breath and exhaled before opening the door.

Stepping into the master bedroom, you saw Dean and Sam handcuffed, gagged, and tied to two strong chairs before the open patio doors. The soft wind was moving the translucent white curtains, the fresh air circulating the room.

The guys reacted seeing you, yelling behind their gags, trying to break their bonds.

Looking to your sides, you made sure Castiel was not behind you before moving further into the room towards them.

“Are you alright?” you whispered.

“I am so happy you are here,” Castiel’s voice sounded as you simultaneously saw his movement from behind Sam and Dean. Aiming your gun up over their heads quickly, you were faced with him pointing a gun at you in return. He had stepped from the patio – which you had so stupidly neglected to make a priority to check before attempting to help Dean and Sam. And now you were paying for it.

Swallowing sharply, you kept your eyes and gun trained on him, waiting for him to act.

His lips broke into that all too familiar, charming smirk. “Well, this is quite arousing. Really gets the blood pumping, does it not, kitten?”

“Let them go.”

“No,” Castiel said, before adding with a chuckle. “Well, that certainly felt odd. Denying you something. First time for everything I suppose. No, they are staying where they are, and you are going to participate in this little exercise. But first… how do you like the room? We could redecorate if it is not to your liking.”

“I don’t give a damn about the room, Castiel.”

Cocking his head slightly, he sighed, “Still not keen on the settling down, I see. Fine, we can sell the house and figure out something else. Johnny did tell me I was being foolish when I told him I intended to stay here with you and passed the reins of the group to him yesterday. Apparently, he was correct. Perhaps he sensed you were a free spirit, which I can appreciate, obviously, me being me.”

“But of course,” Castiel exhaled loudly. “We can discuss that later. What we are here for is your liberation.”

Narrowing your eyes, you demanded, “What do you mean?”

Pointing between the boys, Castiel declared, “Liberation from them. I figured it out, kitten. How we can be together. You clearly do deep down –” you began to shake your head, but he pressed firmly. “No, do not do that. You do not have to lie anymore. To me or yourself. They are the whole problem. The thing that is holding you back from being with me. And more importantly, holding you back from becoming the pinnacle of the best version of yourself. You would be free without them.”

“They have to go,” Castiel shrugged, as if he was merely suggesting something as simple as choosing what to have for dinner. “You choose one to kill with your gun and I will utilize your bone knife gift in the best possible way I could imagine, and I will do away with the other.”

Shaking your head once more, tears pricked your eyes. You were terrified, trying to figure out how to get the three of you out of this situation. If you did not do what he asked, he might just kill you all. Or worse, he would kill Dean and Sam and leave you alive.

“Castiel, I cannot. You cannot ask me to do that. It is unfair.”

“What is unfair is you allowing yourself to be chained down and stifled because of your sense of obligation to stay with them. You do not owe them anything. You were the one who was smartest, saved them, probably more times than you can count. You are constantly dragged down by them and I wish to only help you find salvation.”

“Think of it, Y/N. We could have this place or wherever you want, just for us.” Castiel emphasized the last, his eyes flashing in excitement. He truly imagined a life with you, the two of you happy. “I am free now of my thugs – although we can always call on them if need be, if you want a somewhat misfit family – and you could be free of these two. We can have that and so much more because of it. With my skills and your wit, we can be unstoppable.”

He pleaded, “Do it. For us, kitten. It will be an easy cleanup on the hardwood and then we can move past this.”

There was intense fear in Sam and Dean’s eyes as you locked eyes with them. It was hard to speak, it felt like there was a lump the size of a golf ball in your throat. But you thought you had a plan, albeit a risky one, to try to get you out of here.

“Just one? I only have to choose one to die?”

Sam and Dean protested against their gags and you forced yourself to look away from them to stare Castiel down, ignoring their angered yells.

Castiel looked elated that you seemed to be agreeing to play along. “Yes. You only have to choose one to die.”

In a swift motion, you placed the barrel of the gun against your temple.

Castiel’s face immediately fell, shock painted on his features, while Dean and Sam only yelled louder, their protests muffled.

Lowering his own gun slightly, Castiel put his free hand out gingerly towards you. “Now… kitten… that is not –”

“You just said I had to choose one to die,” you stated firmly.

“I –”

“You said one.”

He shook his head, looking unnerved. “I meant them. You know this is not what I meant.”

“I asked you for clarification and you didn’t mention them this time. Am I wrong?”

Grinding his teeth, Castiel’s gaze was piercing. He stepped closer and you pressed the gun deeper into your skin. He stopped and let out a nervous chuckle, “Y/N, my sweet, let us not be rash here…”

You had caught him off guard, outsmarted him and his game.

“Please, Y/N. We should talk about this,” Castiel told you, looking as if he was breaking out into a cold sweat. You had never seen him lose his composure, but he clearly was now and was desperately trying to keep it under wraps. “I admit that you won that round. You found a loophole – you always, always impress me. But this is not…”

Not how he wanted it to go, you thought as he trailed off.

He took another step towards you timidly and you took one back. Clenching his jaw, he stilled again. “Y/N. We do not have to play anymore. This… it is not important. We can do something else. You and me. We do not have to play if you do not want to anymore.”

“I do want to, Castiel.” His chest was rising and falling quickly, watching you intently. “And you said one and I am ending this now.”

Suddenly, Castiel lunged at you and you reacted instantaneously, pulling your gun away from your head, and shooting him directly in the chest.

Time slowed, a gasp leaving your mouth, seeing him stumble to a stop. He was staring at you in disbelief, eyes squinted in confusion. Sluggishly, he turned his chin down, looking down at the blood that was beginning to trickle out of the hole in his chest. He brought his hand up, fingers brushing the blood, staring at it staining his gloves.

“One,” you whispered, tears stinging as one escaped down your cheek.

He met your gaze again, tears in his own eyes, and you ached at the sight. Blood was beginning to seep now, staining his white dress shirt in a stream.

Choking, he got out, “Well played… kitten.”

Collapsing to the hardwood, Castiel choked on the blood now trickling out of the corner of his mouth.

You were at his side, your own gun tossed aside, and you knocked his away from his hand far out of his reach. Staring down at him, you brushed his hair out of his face and whispered hoarsely, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Castiel reached up, his hand coming to rest on your face. Your chest tightened, seeing the pain etched in his features. Despite it, he was drinking you in as the life melted away in his eyes.

“One… just once…” he breathed raggedly. His fingers brushed your lips, squeezing slightly, and you understood.

Leaning forward, your lips met his gently, deepening the gesture as a tear fell from your face, landing on his cheek. You could not believe you were kissing him but how could you deny him? You knew monsters were made and your heart ached about what he could have been if he had had a different path.

Breathing shakily, you pulled away, finding him smiling up at you before coughing in pain. He forced another smile, his eyes glistening.

“Even better… better than I dreamed.”

It was your turn to choke, a small sob leaving your throat. His eyelids fluttered, as he struggled to keep his eyes on you as he slipped away. When his head tipped to the side, you shuddered, touching his shoulders gently. You had killed him. He was gone. Blood surrounded you on the floor, and you stared down at your hands that were covered.

Unsteadily, you rose from the floor, hands shaking. More sobs erupted as the shock overtook you and you stumbled back away from him, staring at him lying in a pool of his own blood.

The muffled cries coming from Sam and Dean drew your attention away from him. You were snapped back to the present, remembering that they were there. Wiping at your tears with the sleeve of your jacket, you ducked back down, searching through Castiel’s pockets as you cried, gasping for air. Bile rose in your throat at the act of searching his corpse, but you found the keys quickly.

Freeing Sam and Dean, you felt in a haze, having zeroed in on Castiel again. You could not believe he was dead. He had not given you any other choice. One deep breath after another you swallowed down, trying to calm yourself.

Sam’s hand was at your back, startling you, and he said gently, “Come on, Y/N. We have to go.”

You shook your head in response. “We should bury him,” you said quietly, wiping at your tears again.

“We can’t just bury him on the property, Y/N.”

You shook your head again more forcibly this time, turning your attention back. “Not here. Somewhere else.” You met their eyes and told them, “It is the smart thing to do. Clean up the mess and take the body. You know it. Without a body or a crime scene, they won’t go looking for him. His men I mean if they ever come back looking for him. They’ll think we eloped. And then there won’t be a crime scene for the cops to worry about. The house is far enough off the road that there won’t be any neighbors snooping. Plus, it’s dark outside.”

After a few moments, Dean exhaled sharply, “Fuck.” He knew you were right. “Fine. Let’s get to it. But we are wrapping him in so many sheets that blood won’t ever touch Baby.”

You had the urge to slap Dean across the face for speaking ill of the dead.

<> <> <>

Exhausted, you collapsed to the ground next to the freshly dug grave. Staring down at the wet soil, you sniffled, tears pricking again. Sam and Dean were standing nearby, as tired as you were, and you tried to hide your face from them.

Sorry, it’s not the landscape you were born into, you thought, thinking of Castiel. You had buried him beneath a large tree in a forested area, a sharp contrast to the desert.

You sighed heavily, wiping at your eyes again.

It had to be done.

He was going to kill them.

So why did you feel so bad?

You touched the dirt softly at the edge of the mound, thinking of the lake.

Movement to your right caught your attention and Sam was sitting on the ground next to you. He reached out, grasping your hand that was touching the dirt, and pulled you back from the edge. His hand was warm, his grasp firm. He did not say anything, just sat there with you in silence.

Dean sat down on the other side and he pulled you to him, letting you lay your head on his shoulder. Birds chirped softly as the sun began to rise, a soft morning emerging after a hard night.

Dirty, bloody, and exhausted, the three of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity as the sun crept across the earth, illuminating the grave.

“Monsters are made,” you whispered.

Sighing softly, Dean told you gently, “Monsters all the same.”

It was the truth, but this was one monster you knew you would always regret killing because he had bared his human side to you. Some small part of you thought you could have helped him, as foolish as that was. Pulled him towards some semblance of normalcy and fix him. But he had no intention of changing, he wanted you to just accept him the way he was and you could not.

Hopefully, you would eventually be able to find a way to live with yourself. Until then, those cerulean eyes would haunt your dreams.

Eventually, Dean asked, “We ready?”

Burying your feelings for the time being, you answered calmly, “Always.”

This hurt was going to be your burden to bear.

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas

[bangcrizpychan]

Blood Is Not Always Thicker Than Water

☆Pairing: Mafia underboss!S.Coups x Reader

☆Genre: heart-sickening angst, mafia!au, pregnant!Reader au

☆Requested:Yes

☆Word count: 2.2k

⚠WARNINGS: suggestive themes, blood, violence, drug usage, death, swear words, and A MASSIVE EXPLOSION OF ANGST FROM ANGSTVILLE, *read at your own risk*

☆Summary: You were the city Mayor’s daughter, he was a Mafia underboss, a relationship that never should’ve started in the first place. Will you be able to go against all odds?

☞Note: since the request didn’t really specify whether the fic is going to be an angst or fluff, I went full blown ANGST. THIS IS 100% ANGST (╥_╥), so grab a tissue and have an angsty reading♡

You fixed your skin-tight dress and dark red lipstick then looked at your boyfriend, Seungcheol, who smirked at you and eyed you hungrily. You seductively walked towards him, every step making your heart pound with excitement. You have been dating for a year now, but the thrill of having a mafia underboss as a lover when you’re supposed to be an angel to your father’s eyes, who was the city Mayor, still exhilarates you.

You straddled Seungcheol’s lap and attacked his neck, he sighed at your touch and let his hands roam your figure. You grazed your teeth against his soft spot and it earned you a beautiful moan coming from him, oh how you loved the noises he make and you knew that you were the only one that can weaken him like this. You started to unbutton his shirt when a sharp knock interrupted your session.

Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temples, “come in,” Jeonghan, a capo, went inside and gave a letter to Seungcheol. “It’s a VIP invitation to Congressman Han Seongsu’s 50th birthday,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Why do I need to go to that old scum’s birthday?” “He is one of our loyal customer, and there will be a transaction on that day to send more of our package to Jeju.” You almost felt bad for Jeonghan, Seungcheol seems to be mean towards him like every time.

“And your it was your father’s orders to you send there,” you rubbed circles on your boyfriend’s chest to soothe him. Seungcheol’s father is the current Mafia boss and Seungcheol is his successor since he’s an only child. “Also, you need a date before going there.” Jeonghan added and shot you a look, He ‘tsked’ and sent Jeonghan away with his hand, who left without saying another word. He took a deep breath and looked at you, a smirk back on his lips.

“So, where were we?” you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “we were starting this part,” you smashed your lips against his and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. His chest rumbled with laughter, “you seem so eager baby, don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

Your tongues played together as you discarded each other’s clothing, ending the night with passion and pleasure filling the air.

—–

You let out a shaky breath when you saw the pregnancy test; two visible lines that seemed to taunt you. You were pregnant, “No, i-it can’t be,” you were sure that you were on pill, so why was this happening?!

When you finished crying in the bathroom, you decided to call your best friend, Seungkwan, to ask for guidance. He agreed to meet you at his apartment so you got ready and headed there as quickly as you could.

When you arrived at his place, you completely broke down in his arms, he whispered comforting things and your ears and soothed your back.

“y/n, what happened?” he asked and handed you a glass of water, you took a sip and explained yourself, “I-I don’t know Seungkwan, we were careful!” you sobbed, Seungkwan knew you had a boyfriend, but he didn’t know what kind of person Seungcheol is. What would he do to you if he finds out?!

“You have to tell your boyfriend, y/n, and your family,” “I know, but I-I’m just scared.” that was a lie, you were completely terrified, you were allegedly a good girl in your family’s eyes, to them, you finished University without any boys bothering you. But most of all, you were terrified of Seungcheol, he loved you, you knew that, but you’ve seen what he was capable of. He had ended someone’s life in front of you before, what if the next person that will stand at the end of his gun is you?

Seungkwan babied you the whole time you were at his place, you watched your favorite shows together and ate a lot of sweets. Your phone beeped in the middle of the show and your blood ran cold when you saw the text.

“come home. Now,” it was from your brother, Joshua. You bid Seungkwan goodbye and went home anxiously. When you arrived at your place, you saw your brother, who was still in his uniform, and your mother sitting in the living room. “What’s going on y/n? Why did your brother drag me here and called for a ‘family meeting’” your mother asked, twirling his diamond ring, almost looking bored.

“I want to know what’s going on as well,” your brother reached out from his pocket and pulled out a plastic, “care to explain what the fuck this is, y/n?!” you flinched at your brother’s voice. He handed the plastic to your mother who then screamed when she pulled out what was inside. Your maids rushed to the living room to see what the commotion was but you stood there still, staring at the pregnancy test that was dropped on the floor.

“How could this happen, y/n??!” your mother cried, the maids brought her tea to calm her nerves but she refused and continued to sob. “what the fuck were you doing in my room?!” you demanded to your brother, tears streaming down your face.

“You think I wouldn’t notice you looking sick and barely eating anything?! You think I wouldn’t see the signs?!” he yelled at you, “Who the fuck is the asshole?!” No, he couldn’t know, he should never know. “Oppa! Please don’t, don’t tell Dad, I beg you” you dropped to your knees and begged your brother. Your mother was stopped sobbing for a second, and thought about rushing to your side but she was too weak to do so.

“Just tell me his fucking name, I can charge him with rape and I’ll cuff that motherfucker myself,” you chanted a series of nos and I’m sorrys. If you weren’t that terrified before, you are now. Your brother is a police officer and if he knew that the father of your unborn child was a mafia underboss, he would definitely kill him.

In the middle of the chaos, you decided to run away, you heard your mother call out your name but you didn’t care, you got into your car and drove as fast as you can. You called Seungcheol and he decided to meet you at the Hangang Bridge.

He lit up your cigarette that was hanging in your lips a little too long. “What happened, sweetheart?” “I got into a fight with my brother,” you sucked some smoke in and slowly blew it out. “Do you want me to take him out?” Seungcheol suggested, which you would’ve laughed at if you didn’t know he was serious, but you knew he could definitely kill your brother. You just scoffed and let the silence took over you.

“Do you love me, Seungcheol?” you asked out of the blue, Seungcheol disposed of his cigarette and took yours off from your mouth. “Of course I do baby, I love you so much,” “Well, what do you think about babies?”

He chuckled and smoked the rest of your cigar, “I mean babies are adorable, but they’re so fucking annoying to look after.” you lowered your head and muttered a single ’oh’. “why? Do you want to make little Seungcheol or little y/n to pester us?” he laughed and cupped your face.

“Because I’m definitely down with the baby-making process,” he said and crashed his lips to yours, you tasted the minty flavor of the cigar and the scene alone made you feel hot. Maybe you could tell him after tomorrow’s event.

—-

You turned a lot of heads when you entered the congressman’s manor, you were wearing a silver long gown that barely covered your breasts, and Seungcheol loved the fact that he can show off your beautiful body and let them know that you were his.

“y/n??” you stopped your conversation with the congressman’s wife and whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Your eyes widened when you saw your father together with your mother. “M-Mom, Dad? What are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here?! You ran away from home and now you’re attending a party?!” your father scolded.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Joshua appeared behind them and then looked at you, “y/n? What are you doing here?” he quickly shooed your parents away to talk to you. As you and your brother started to talk, Seungcheol suddenly appeared at your side.

“Hey baby, who’s this?” You couldn’t believe it, it was the most unfortunate coincidence you’ve ever experienced, your brother had to meet your lover like this. “I’m her brother and you are?” “I’m her boyfriend, it’s nice to meet you bro,” Seungcheol reached his hand out to offer a handshake but your brother only stared at him.

“I know you from somewhere,” your brother’s eyes widened with realization. He pulled you from Seungcheol’s grasp and dragged you across the room. You struggled to remove yourself from him, yelling at him to let you go.

“What the fuck, y/n?! You’re fucking dating a mafia?!” your eyes widened with fear, this cannot be happening right now. “Is he the father of your fucking child?!” he grabbed a fistful of his hair and pressed his earpiece, “I need backup right now, I caught sight of a mafia at Congressman Han’s mansion. I need backup. Now!!”

You ran off as he was yelling orders and went to find Seungcheol. You found him conversing with Congressman Han, “Seungcheol! You need to leave! Now!” you yelled and tugged at his arm, he excused himself and turned to you, “What’s going on, y/n?” “My brother, he knew you were gonna have a transaction here. He recognized you and called for backup-”

“Wait, your brother is a fucking police officer?! What the actual fuck y/n?!” he cut you off but you dragged him behind with you. “There’s no time to explain, we need to go, you’re not safe here!” you heard the police sirens and both of you made a run for it. His goons took out their guns and chaos erupted inside the mansion. A couple of officers tailed you but Seungcheol’s goons came and fought them off. However you were both caught in a crossfire and barely managed to reach the abandoned warehouse near the manor.

You helped Seungcheol drag himself to the warehouse, he got hit in so many places just to cover for you. You fell down next to the sacks and groaned in pain, blood seeped through your once silver gown but you ignored your pain and focused on Seungcheol’s wounds.

“Baby, don’t close your eyes, please. Help is on its way, I managed to contact Jeonghan before we got to this warehouse, you just have to stay with me,” you cried and applied pressure to some of his wounds.

Seungcheol coughed up blood and reached up to hold your face, “w-when you were talking a-about babies yesterday, w-were you s-saying that you were pregnant?” you cried and held his hand that was cupping your face. “Yes, I was baby. You’re going to be a Dad, so stay with us. Okay?”

“I’m g-going to be a Dad? I don’t k-know if I’m going to b-be a good one though,” he chuckled. “You are going to be the best Dad in the world, baby.” you cried and let out a small smile.

You didn’t want any of these to happen. You never wanted to be a sister of a policeman and Seungcheol never wished to be an heir to a Mafia boss. All you ever wanted was to be a normal couple that was going to be a family soon.

Seungcheol coughed and grunted in pain, he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I love you y/n, so fucking much. More than my fucking life.” “I love you too, more than anything in this world.” You cried, and pressed your lips against his.

Seungcheol nodded and smiled, then his hand went limp. Silence, aside from the sirens you hear at the distance, it was all just silence. You screamed at the top of your lungs and embraced your lover, you held him like you were holding onto life, he can’t be gone. He can’t leave you behind.

You started to feel pain so you looked down and saw a lot of blood seeping out of you. It turned out that you were hit by more than one bullet and you felt yourself cough up your own blood. Seungcheol was not going to leave you, you were going with him.

You rubbed your belly and sobbed, “I’m sorry, my baby, you didn’t even get the chance to see this world, I didn’t even get the chance to see you.” you groaned in pain as you lied down next to the corpse of your once lover.

You stared at the ceiling of the warehouse, smiling widely and scooting closer to Seungcheol. You felt your eyelids go heavy and you couldn’t hear nor feel anything, anymore. You mentally scoffed, you never thought you were going to die at a horrible place like this; but you were glad of your imminent death, because at least you died in the arms of your one true love.

☞Note: I may or may not have imagined the request too deep and created this chaotic monstrosity. Sorry, I was just feeling too angsty (╥﹏╥)

[itsuki-minamy]

“SNOW AND FLAME”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

This land turns dazzlingly white in winter. This is because the snow that accumulates from the sky stains the entire earth. Adults are overwhelmed with snow removal work, and children are busy caring for cows and horses. She can't play outside while snowing, so she just has to study. Therefore, the children of this land were always distressed during the winter.

Sophie was one of the few exceptions.

She liked snow. She likes to watch the falling snow and listen to the quiet sound. It was also Sophie's daily routine taking a walk in the woods near her home, stepping on fresh snow that no one had ever stepped on. As she walked among the snow-covered trees, she felt as if she had become a winter spirit, and she felt her heart rise.

So it was also Sophie who found "it" the first time.

At first, "Pain" looked like a block of snow that had grown thickly at the root of the tree. When she tries to pass by inadvertently, she notices that a red object was visible and hidden due to the snow.

"......?"

She thought it was raspberry, but Sophie, who walks every day, knows that no fruit grows here. When she approached with interest and looked seriously, she discovered what it was.

It was hair.

Sophie was surprised, even with her big round eyes. She was also a red-haired girl who was teased by "Redhead" at school, but was even more crisp and crimson.

She reaches out and tries to pull.

"Hm..."

Surprisingly, a lot of snow groaned.

In front of Sophie, the chunk of snow slowly collapsed. Among them was a man with red hair.

The man turned to Sophie with sleepy eyes and yawned. Then he turned his head and made a loud voice.

"I slept well."

Sophie thoughtfully asked:

"Do you want to die?"

++++++++++

The man called himself Suoh.

She got tired of pulling a frozen body out of her favorite place. Sophie pulled the yawned Suoh and carried it back to her home near there.

Sophie's parents, who ran the ranch, rolled their eyes in black and white when they saw the red-haired man whose daughter took him home.

However, they agreed with Sophie's claim that if she left him as it was in the winter season, they would have a bad taste in their mouth during the thaw season, and she rented an inn overnight to wrap up the story.

Suoh was an awfully quiet man.

What were you doing? Where you come from? Where are you going? Oriental? Can you speak English? What are you doing at work? Do you have any favorite food? He answers all her curious mother's questions, in one word. Her mother seemed dissatisfied with the short answer, but he was popular with Sophie and her father: it is the saying of her father that he is a man who does not speak much.

The following is a summary of the situation of Suoh's response.

"I mean, Suoh just slept there, there was no way to go South to anywhere. He is from Japan. People speak English. His job is music. His favorite food is alcohol?"

"Oh."

"Hmm. Are the Japanese okay to sleep in the snow?"

"It doesn't bother me."

"Oh, I know! Are you a ninja, Suoh? I've heard that all Japanese are ninjas."

Except that, Suoh laughed weakly for the first time after they met.

Seeing that smile, Sophie was confused. Somehow, it was a strange feeling, with a mixture of joy and a little fear, as if the lion had hit her with its tail.

With confused eyes she pointed to the case Suoh was carrying on his back.

"Is it a guitar case?"

"That's right."

"You can play the guitar?"

Suoh did not answer and took out the guitar.

A shiny silver fire pattern. Sophie is not familiar with guitars, but just thought it was pretty.

So Suoh started playing the guitar.

At first, only Sophie was listening, but eventually the father, mother, brother, and people who worked at the ranch came together for being drawn to it.

Nobody said anything. She had a similar face. Sophie was the same. She forgets to breathe and watch Suoh play the guitar.

It was the first time since she was born that she has heard something so beautiful.

There was no joy after Suoh played the guitar. There was no applause. However, everyone was silent with their eyes open.

Finally, Sophie's father told her to speak up for everyone's feelings.

"Hey, Suoh. I hope it's okay... I'll be here occasionally, so why don't you let me listen to your guitar?"

After all, Suoh's response was short.

"Yes."

++++++++++

Suoh was in every Sophie's day.

That said, Suoh did nothing. He was playing on the guitar, lying down, vaguely looking at the sky, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol all day.

When someone says something to he, he does it. Like shoveling snow, caring for cows, cleaning deposits. However, if you take your eyes off, he will stop and go somewhere. It doesn't feel lazy. Somehow it will happen naturally.

He used to drink liquor alone, but sometimes he used to drink with the ranch workers. Rather, the worker wanted to drink with Suoh. However, Suoh had no compassion, and even if someone spoke to him, he would respond briefly or even clearly ignore him.

Once, a gloomy worker was angry at the attitude and confronted Suoh.

From the next day, everyone believed Sophie's theory that Suoh was actually a ninja.

He plays the guitar once a day. After dinner. Only then did everyone gather in front of the fireplace and listen to Suoh's guitar. Even the workers who were hit by Suoh were fascinated by the music with their swollen and delighted faces.

However, sometimes he actually played twice a day.

In the forest where Sophie found Suoh, Suoh sometimes played the guitar alone with Sophie. He didn't show them, Suoh took a walk, and the concert started when he had a guitar.

It seems that the snowy forest is so deep that it absorbs all sounds. In the white snow, Sophie is gathering music like the jewel of the deep sea. Sophie closed her eyes and was just biting the happiness of enjoying it.

After listening to the music, Sophie stopped for a moment and sighed.

"It's warm."

Suoh, who was playing on the guitar, looked at Sophie with his big eyes. It's the first time he's seen her like this, so Sophie asked him.

"Ah, what?"

"…Unpleasant. It reminded me of a guy who said something similar.''

It was also the first time that Suoh spoke that long. Seeing his eyes looking somewhere far away, Sophie tightened her grip on the hem.

"Hey, Suoh. That..."

"Hm?"

"Hm, that..."

Stay here forever, let's listen to the guitar forever.

For some reason, the word stayed in her throat and didn't come out.

Suoh was looking at Sophie, but when he realized that she couldn't say anything, he stood up with his guitar in the case.

Suoh left the next day.

++++++++++

"I heard there is a "flame" here!"

Screaming like that, Sophie's parents looked at each other when they saw a man in a suit running.

He was a producer in the music industry and had a contract with an artist. Initially starting in a small venue, the artist quickly became a hot topic and became so popular that it filled concert halls in Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York. Across the United States, they were enthusiastic about his music, and when live concerts were to be decided, the artist suddenly disappeared.

That is "Flame". He means, Mikoto Suoh.

Her mother covered her mouth, "Good!" And her father nodded, "I see."

"It makes sense that Suoh's guitar is so impressive. He is a great musician."

"Millions, not tens of millions, are waiting for his music! Where is he now?!"

"He was asking to shovel, but I always leave him alone and he go somewhere. Let our helpers find him."

Sophie rushed into her forest when she saw the adults begin to move.

Suoh was in the forest.

He was sitting on a log and playing the guitar. Seeing that, Sophie realized that Suoh was not listening to the music, and that he was there when he played the guitar.

Even with pity, the music Suoh played was still beautiful.

Finally, after finishing the song, Suoh put the guitar in its case. A look at Sophie.

Sophie turned to Suoh and noticed that there was a backpack under his feet.

It's the same poor bag he had when he was here and there.

Sophie learned that her intuition was correct.

"You're going to go?"

Suoh shrugged and replied to Sophie's trembling voice.

"It's getting loud."

Sophie looked down.

Sophie knew this day would come sometime.

Suoh stopped here. As if a lion that lived in the savannah stopped at a source of drinking water. Eventually he will leave and walk to a place that suits his best. She doesn't know if it's a big stage in the sun or his hometown where his friends are waiting, but it's certainly not here.

She couldn't say that he shouldn't go. It is just empty when she says so. She didn't want to cry madly in front of this mysterious but beautiful man.

Still, she thought there would never be a jewel-like music in this forest again, and she was so sad that she could feel her heart.

Tears spilled from Sophie's face-down eyes. It is absorbed by the snow under her feet.

Suoh's footsteps came closer to drown out the sound.

Sophie felt a heat on her head.

Looking up, Suoh was laughing. Looking at Sophie with a look like looking at an inevitable child,

"See you."

Sophie blinked.

Rubbing her eyes roughly with the sleeves. The tears cannot be said to have wiped away, but Sophie still laughed when she touched Suoh's hand on her head.

"See you."

Then Mikoto Suoh left.

[angelbittyabuse]

Marie's Return, part 2/2

(TW: The infamous chain bitty is mentionned down below.)

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"Pff, you look like one, anyway." She smirked before turning to the next wooden box. "How many are there?" She complained. "Six. Only six." Answered her colleague. Okay. Four left to go. This one read Sugarfloss. Oh. Oh-oh. Maybe having them sent by the post office wasn't the best idea ever. Élodie did a quick check on the box. 'It's written Sugarfloss Bittybones on it, but all you'll find in there is dust.' "Shit." The colleague shrug. "Okay. Three more left, then." Sugarfloss were Papyrus-type bittys. Optimistic and kind, their downside was their fragility. Something as simple as too intense sunlight could blind them forever. Their were allergics to almost everything and clumsy as hell. "They should have written 'fragile' on it." Added the guy before opening the next one. Élodie still felt quite uneasy due to the mass massacre that had occured to the Sugarflosses. She hoped they could order new samples before Angel notices anything. "Awww, you ain't coming, Élo' ?" The monster girl came back to reality. "Which breed it is?" She was curious. "Guess." Answered the other. "Uuuuh...." "It's so cute you could eat them?" Élodie's face lighten. "Caramel!" "Yes!" The girl ran to the newly open box, discovering a puddle of goo in tupperwares. The papyrus-type bittys inside it nearly drown in their own waste. "Oh. Crap. How would we keep them inside the store? I read the goo attracts bugs too..." The last thing they wanted was cockroaches or ants inside the store... The worst case scenario being an unremovable stain in the perfectly white floor. "Fish tank?" Asked the colleague. "We will drain it once in a while." "Hmm." Sang the fell girl. "I hope they like to swim." The Caramel were all excited to be taken out of their tupperwares and- well- to be alive as well. They made grabby hands to the employees who passed their turn. "Next box?" He asked. "Next box!" She answered. It had been okay-ish until now and she was hopeful for what's next. As they were struggling with the lid, Marie came back from the rescue room, empty handed. "Hey, how is it going?" Asked the brown haired human girl. Élodie felt the lid giving up when she answered her bestie. "Perfectly. And you? Had fun?" She paused. "Wait. Where are all the jellybeans?" Did she left them with the pygmys? "The kind chain told me I could leave them to it." Élodie furrowed her brows. "Wait. What?" There wasn't two chains in the store. Actually. There wasn't supposed to be any. She was obviously talking about Angel's pet chain but what was it doing in the store, moreover in the backroom... "Oh no..." Élodie went pale. Chains are cannibalistic lamias. Usually, they only eat other bittys when they think of them as a threat but this chain in particular- and with jellybeans being limbless and thus looking a little like tiny snakes. "We'll have to order more jellybean samples as well." Said Élodie dryly to her coworker. "Also we're out of pygmys." While Élodie was handling the problem in the backroom, Marie was left with said coworker. He finally took the lid away, revealing... "Are they sick??" Cried Marie, rushing to the three lollys, lusty Sans-type bittys having a threesome in their steel cages and definitely not interrupting it just because the box had been opened. "I-" The guy had a quick glance to Marie. She was obviously a young adult. Old enough to be explained such things. "My boss' looking forward to them. Could really be helpful in the breeding mill. They are... always in heat kinda bittys?" Marie turned pale, raising her hand as she tried to pet the closer one through the bars. The reaction was immediate and she ended up with ecto-flesh all around her index finger. "I- I think it likes me??" Tryed to compromise Marie but she jerked her hand off as soon as she could, only for the lolly to sing out a moan of pleasure. "Well. Crap. Was it your first time?" Joked the guy. Marie did not answered but smelled her hand with a funny face.

Okay. Last one. They were already done. Being such a gentleman, the guy waited for the lamia expert to come back before ruining the suspense.

The previous incident had been forgotten as soon as Élodie understood what they were opening. "New lamia breed!!" The fell girl actually jumped once or twice on her feet, even doing a little happy dance. She turned to her bestie. "First time I'm seeing this breed! And they were rare as hell some days ago! I can't believe we have access to-" She turned to the box with a huge and wide smile. Her colleague wasn't holding back his laugh, seeing her that excited. Marie didn't really understood what was playing on but she joined in and exulted to the idea of petting new lamia friends. "No touching." Élodie warned as the lid fall to the ground with a thump sound, revealing five young Bubblegum bittys. They had been sleeping the whole way here and opened tired eyes to their surrounding, their adorable, sweet face, matching the oh so glittery pink scales. To Élodie, it reminded her a little of those pony toys she had as a child, the ones hollow with glitters inside. Or maybe those glue sticks with glitters inside. Or even this vampire from the movie with glitters on him---- anything with glitters, really. "Aaaaaah." Cooed Marie. "They are so pretty." The little snakes let away a small yawn, showing two cute little fangs. "Are they venomous?" "The flyer didn't say they are." Reassured Élodie, still fangirling and overdosing on the adorableness. Would be amazing to see them everyday in their pen. "Wait. How do you give them Soultime?" Realized her colleague. Élodie's orbits opened wide. "I- I don't know. Not without touching them- I..." Here was the glitch. Little sneks could not be touched or else, they'll imprint on the person's skin. Once imprinting, it's over. You cannot put them away. They're stuck on you or else they'll cry their non-existent lungs out to the point of turning you deaf. So yeah. For the Soultime part... "Guess we just have to sell them real quick." They were also supposed to be quite the chatters. Thinking of it... Those were probably drugged on for the whole way here to be still so quiet. Well. Not like it mattered, back to work it is! It was time to put them in one of the sneks drawers she had in one of the rooms. Handling the first one with a hook, the little cutie holding it with both of its hands, she started to move it. Out of the box- okay. Now a few steps. Still okay. The cutie was looking at its surrounding. Still okay. Marie was walking next to her and next to the cutie, cooing. Still okay. The cutie was having a mishievous smile while looking downright at Marie. Not okay. It let go of the hook and started falling on the dangerously-high-for-a-bitty ground. Not okay at all. Élodie panicked and grabbed the lamia BEFORE Marie reached for it, thus saving her friend but condamning herself. Fuck. "I wanted to be the hero!" Pouted Marie as Élodie was frozen with fear, her face becoming more and more livid while the bubblegum lamia slowly turned its face to its new '''''owner''''', a wiiiiiide grin on its small shitty face. It took a huge breath then. Started. "I'msohappywebondedandmyownerlovessnakesweweremeanttobewhatareyounamingmeohandwhat'syournameactuallyitdoesn'tmatterI'mgonnacallyoumamaitsuitsyousomuchbettersomamawhatdoyiudoforfuncauseIlovehavingfunandwewillplayalldaylongnowandalsoI'mhungrynowtheygaveusweirdpillsthatmakeushungryafterandwe'veseensuchprettyandweirdcolorafterwe'vetakenthepillsandtheydancedtoodoyoulovetodance,Ilovetodance,look!!" As the bitty started dancing and Marie started clapping in her hands to encourage the artsy bitty, Élodie felt her life crumble.

"It's fucked." Her coworked had lay his hand on Élodie's shoulder. "Nobody is leaving you in this kind of shit. We'll tell Angel it dusted during the trip. Just kill it." Élodie shivered. "I- I'm not wasting a brand new bittybone..." She stuttered. "You can't have any bitty at home anyway. And you sure aren't upsetting your landlord for this... thing." The monster girl considered the idea. Dipping the bitty in the acid was the way to go but this dancing one was now holding so tight around her arm that it hurted. She would have to surrender her arm to be released.

"We have a hammer in the toolbox."

He said. "It'd be quick. Won't feel anything and you'd keep your arm." "What a waste..." Sighed Élodie as they were going to the toolbox, followed by Marie who did not understand a thing, as amazed as she was by the chatting Bubblegum bitty who would not be so happy if it had listened even a little to what had been said. They were now holding tight the bitty's upper torso on the table, its tail still dangerously and tightly curled on Élodie's arm and the hammer was right over its head when Marie finally realized. "YOU MONSTERS !!" She then snapped the Bubblegum from Élodie's arm and it was fair to say it hurted a little- "Nothing racist of course. I'm not racist." Marie defended in an angry tone, remembering that, indeed, at least one of them was a monster. "But how could you-" It just took that amount of time for the Bubblegum bitty to start to wail. The noise was... Intense. To say the least. Marie was sushing and reassuring all she could the crying atrocity. Her voice could not be heard over that but she exploded. "How! How could you do that to HIM, look how upset he is!!" She was now freely cuddling it as the bitty flailed, trying its best to reach back to Élodie. The monster girl looked at her colleague, at loss for what to do. "Since you were planning to kill him, he's mine, now! I saved him!" Élodie tried to talk her friend back to reason since the imprint was already done and there was no way this bitty would accept a new owner but- with that noise- and with how upset Marie was... Élodie and her colleague just ended up staring at the leaving guest, holding tightly her flailing new lamia. ... "Wow. Your home is actually more quiet than I expected." Said Élodie with an uneasy smile. It had been a few months since her best friend talked to her, so the invitation had been more than welcomed. "I-... No. Nothing." Bittys were now a sensitive subject between them. Élodie just spent their evening chatting and laughing and everything was great until Marie had to leave for a little time in the bathroom. Élodie was left alone with her thought in the silent living room, scrolling absentely on her phone until a knocking sound was heard. "Bump." Okay. What was that shit. "Bump. Bump." Élodie stood up and went for the noise. It was coming from what looked like a big jewel box which was sitting on a shelf. Muffling sounds soon to be heard as she got closer. Her open hand reached to the box in curiosity and she almost opened it but- Yeah. She didn't want to know what or who was inside.

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[chiibinomonodamon]

Doujinshi Translation

This is an AU where Gray takes Rachel in as a Sister to his church and she meets Zack in a different way!

*There is nothing sexual in the book.

*Trigger warnings: Off-screen animal cruelty :(

'Kami-sama Ga Shinda Hi Umareta Hi'

The Day God Died, God is Born by Tokiko Nao

Translation by Chiibi. Please do not repost and do not make scanlations without crediting me. (I am not sure about every single line but I’d like to see someone else do it better :D hahaha:p)

Kami-sama Ga Shinda Hi, Umareta Hi Page 01 Ray: Oh Lord...           God...please...somehow... Page 02 [door creaks] Gray: Rachel Ray: Oh, Father. Good morning. Gray: Good morning. [shuts door] Gray: Have you finished your morning duty? Ray: Yes. Gray: You have much enthusiasm. This is very good. Ray: Not at all. (Note: She isn't disagreeing; the polite thing to do in Japan when someone gives you a compliment is to be humble instead of saying 'thank you') Ray: It is only natural for one who serves the Lord. Gray: Is that so.            I've prepared breakfast for you. Please eat before it gets cold. Ray: Yes. Thank you very much. Child: FATHER! Page 03 Gray: My, what is wrong? You are all in such a rush... Child: Father, please help us!             This little guy collapsed near the church.              He's not moving and he's hurt... [sniff sniffle] At this rate, he'll die... Ray: It's okay.          His wound is not serious...          If we treat him and give him something to eat and keep him warm while he sleeps...          he will get better in no time.          So do not worry. [fluf]           The church will look after him.

Page 04 Kids: Thank you, Onee-chan!           We won't have to worry with Father here, right!? Gray: Well then, I shall leave him to you. Do let me know if you need anything. Kids: I know! Let's give him a name! Ray: Right. >: How about 'Max'? >: Whaaaaaat, that's so plain! Ray: You'll be all right now. Page 05 Ray thinking: He's later than usual...                            For the evening sermon...                             A person...?                             He's asleep.                             Who could it be at this hour...                              Oh well...this is a public place after all...                              Another day comes to an end.                              And yet...                              Lord God...

Page 06 Has not come to meet me today either... Zack: That's a boring prayer.             Is this really that fun for ya, little miss? [yawn]

Page 07 Ray: Who...are you?          What are you doing here...         Could you be a thief? >: Zack Gray: So you've come here after all.            I thought you would.            Would you like to eat supper?            I am preparing it now but... Zack: Don't need it.            Just came here to take a break. [slams door] Ray: Father...who is that man...? Gray: Oh...he comes to visit this place now and then.             To him, this is just a shelter that he doesn't have to pay for.              Don't worry about him. Ray:  Does he also... Gray: No, he is not a follower of God but...            He was chosen by God             As an 'angel'. Page 09 Ray thinking:                            Angel...?                             But that person...                              Had the scent of blood on him.

>: You've gotten a lot better, haven't you! Shall we go for a little walk? >: Wuf! >: Ah...you shouldn't run like tha... Page 10 >: Wuf! [spaced out] Ray: You're the...           one from before... Zack: And yer...           who now? Ray: [POUT]

Page 11 Ray: [still pouting]           We met in the church before... Zack: Ah, yer the little miss saying the boring prayers, huh.           Ya had a borin' face so I forgot. Ray: My name is Rachel Gardner. [hmph]           And you are...Mr...Zack? Was it? (she is using "-san" here) [shudder] Zack: DON'T CALL MY NAME IN THAT CREEPY-ASS WAY!           I'LL KILL YA DEAD!! Ray: [twitches]          That would be a problem...then what should I call you...? Zack: 'Zack' is fine...            Call me that...            That's what the shitty priest calls me too... Ray: Zack... Page 12 Ray [sits]         Zack, why are you here? Zack: AH!? Ray: I mean, why do you come here sometimes? Zack: whatcha sittin' down for           No reason...I guess it's a good place to hide. Ray: From who? Zack: AHHHHHH!? YER SURE ASK A LOTTA QUESTIONS!!           SO WHY THE HELL'RE YOU HERE!? Ray: Me? Well, truthfully...          My parents died...no.          I came here to sacrifice myself to the Lord.          I am waiting for that time. Zack: Oh I see. Ray: [pout]           Why did you ask if you don't care? Zack: Keh. I just asked ya back since ya asked me. Page 13 Ray: I see.          You're an odd person. Zack: HAAAAAAAAAAH!?            I DON'T WANNA HEAR THAT FROM YOU!! Ray: Owwwww [pinch] Zack: YA DON'T SMILE OR ANYTHIN!!            ARE THE MUSCLES IN YER FACE DEAD OR SOMETHIN!? [sting] Ray narrates: After that                            Zack appeared at the church quite frequently. [looking around] >: Max, here's your food! Page 14 >: He would come for several days on end but also not show up for several weeks... >: Maybe he's in the garden... Zack: HEY. >: WUF! [wag wag] Zack: [panting]           Keep a good grip on him, will ya! Ray: He was really quite a strange...          strange person.          So he was playing with you, Zack, huh?          That's good. >: Wuf! Zack: NEXT TIME YA GUYS INTERRUPT MY AFTERNOON NAP, I'LL KILL YA DEAD! Ray: But of course he was in the back yard where others can't enter.          And he showed up during the night.         Max has really bonded with Zack too... Zack: Guess I'll go back to sleep again. Page 15 Ray: I wonder what Zack does outside of this place...? Zack: So? [staaaaaaaaaaaaaare]           Whatcha up to, today? Ray: Working in the garden.          Are you hiding again?          I'm planting new flowers. Zack: Like I care.           Killin' time. Ray: I see... Zack: Ya don't have that book today.            Even though yer always hangin' onto it. Ray: You mean my Bible?          It should be expected that I wouldn't carry it while I'm working in the garden.           Are you interested in the Bible? Zack: Keh. Nope...can't even read it anyway. Page 16 Ray: Okay, all done. [pat pat] Zack: That dog ain't here, huh? Ray: Did you come to see him? Zack: IDIOT! NO, I FREAKIN' DIDN'T!! Ray: I thought you'd come to see him quite a lot lately.          I see... Zack: LISTEN TO ME, YA LITTLE SHIT!! Child : WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?

Page 17 >: Max is gone!?    Whyyy!? Ray: Yes. Someone came to take him in. Child: Darn. We wanted to play with him some more. Child: But at least he went to a fun home, right? That's good! Ray: I know you came here to see him... I am sorry. [door creaks] Gray: Rachel...            I'd like to talk with you. Please come with me. Page 18 Gray: I picked this up from the back yard.            This is a bad habit of yours. And I've overlooked it many times.             But now...why did you kill THIS one? Ray: That puppy really got attached to Zack.          I didn't want Zack to take him from me... Page 19           Thus I made him "mine". Gray: Goodness. I am quite disgusted with you.            We do not selfishly act to obtain our own desires. [sigh]              I knew you were not a vessel for an angel. Ray: Angel...?          No...I...          That is not what I wish for...           Father, in order to sacrifice myself for God, I... Gray: Rachel Page 20 [badum]            The God you desire is does not exist here.             No matter how much you pray             There is no "God" that can meet your conditions.              Besides that, you who cannot even be loved by others...               think God would actually love you? Ray: No... [tremble]          Stop...it. Gray: You are so pitiful. Ray: STOP IT!! Page 21 [dash] [monologue] There is no God for me? That has to be a lie!! Ahh Lord... I... I shouldn't be alive, should I... Lord God... Somehow please...! Because of that? Page 22 Is that why He will not come for me? [panting] Because my God doesn't exist? I won't accept that. Because if I do... I don't want to die while I'm still unsightly!! Will someone kill me? I thought if it was God... The unsightly me would still be accepted. I thought He could kill me and make me beautiful. [rustle] Page 23 "He is an angel". Ray: I might be no good.         Do you have a God who accepts you?         Zack... >: He always smells of blood. Why... Zack who cannot even read the Bible How can this be...? What's the difference between him and me...? If I make Zack mine... can God make me His own too...? Page 24 Zack: I SAID if ya interrupt my nap, I'd kill ya DEAD, didn't I? [wham]            Killin' that dog didn't satisfy ya enough, huh?            Little miss. [cough] Ray: Then kill me too! [glare]           Serial Killer Issac Foster! Zack: Hah            Impressive ya figured it out... Page 25 Ray: Anyone could if they did a little research...          You always came to this place right after an incident happened in town...          You're hiding from the police, aren't you?          And thanks to our priest hiding you here...          The most faithful and trusted person in the whole city...           Nobody would ever suspect him of harboring a serial killer. [pant pant] Zack: Whatsa matter?            Yer chattier than usual today, ain'tcha... [Ray stuggles for breath] Wh...y... 26

Ray: What's the difference between you and me...? [drip drip] : Why does God... Zack: God...? Yer talking about that stuff again? Ray: I... Zack: You pretend to pray... Ray: I was just waiting... Zack: Is that big heavy bible really that important to ya? Ray: For the Lord God to come for me... Zack: Ya got some nerve.            Ya intend to only make yourself clean? [grip]            Even now ya reek of blood and flesh. 27             Just try it on me.             Neither you or I would change!              Isn't that right, Ray? Ray: Me...and you...? Zack: Well, I don't rely on God though.             All right. I'm outta here.             Their search for me is gettin' more serious so I can't visit this place anymore. [wave]              See ya. Ray: Tell me, Zack Page 28        If I beg you to kill me        will you listen...? Zack: Huh...?           I ain't interested in killin' someone with such a borin' face.           And I got no intention of bein' used by you. Ray: Then take me with you.           I've lost my reason to be here... [drip drip]          If I hadn't followed you, I'd just be left behind but          If you need, you can use me as a decoy.          I'm sure I can be of use to you.          So it's okay with me to be killed by you. [flutter]           When that time comes Page 29             Kill me, please. Ray thinking: That's right. The one who kills me Page 30 Can be Him. (she is using the kanji for Lord God here) Zack: Hah.           This time yer going depend on me instead of God, huh. Ray: But I need someone to rely on         ...I guess        Plus you might be better than God... Zack: I'm not into the gross habit of purposely killin' someone who wants to die.          If ya want me to kill ya, ya gotta work with me first.         Help me escape this town.         If ya make a better face for me after we've left here        That's when... Page 31         I'll kill ya. "Serial killer Issac Foster now suspected of kidnapping" "Is still on the run" "Fearful nights continue"... Ray: That's what it says. Zack: Damn it all! It's YER fault they suspect me of kidnapping now, ain't it! Ray: Kidnapping on top of everything else doesn't really change anything though...         It looks like they found out you went to the church.         The Father must have stirred up the search for you, somehow.          Leaving the town was the right action. Zack: Geeze, whatta pain in the ass. Page 32 Ray: If I'm a burden to you, you can kill me and go on alone? Zack: Yer all I got, ya know!?            They would trace ya all the way to here, wouldn't they? Ray: Well spotted. [sigh] [ARGH!!] Zack: STOP ASKING ME STUPID BORING CRAP!!            THINK ABOUT WHAT TO DO ABOUT THIS SHIT GOIN' ON NOW!!           IT'S BAD!! [lol sirens] Ray: This is because you act without thinking about where you are, Zack...          But I'll do my best.         So you will kill me.

[carlycchapman24]

The Adventures of Celine Markus-Chapter 1

It was a cool September day and Celine was out running errands. She had just left the grocery store when she saw a figure in a black cloak, with its hood up, motioning her to come over to him. She looked around, and no one seemed to notice the figure, which freaked her out, so she began walking away. The next thing Celine knew, the figure made a gesture with its hands and for a moment she felt compelled to walk over to it. She shook it off, was confused for a moment, and then started heading home. However, when she turned around to walk up the street, the figure seemed to appear right in front of her, startling her. The figure then took its hood down to reveal an older man, perhaps in his mid to late 70s, laughing cheerfully. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t ya? Good, you’ll need to be. The name is Maverick. I’m the Royal Wizard of Crisherton, which I’m sure you’ve never heard of, so that’s not important. Anywho, you look like someone in need of work, or an adventure, or both even. What’s your name, young lady?” Celine shook her head in disbelief, wizards? Royalty? Crisherton? This guy was a nutcase! “Sir, pardon my rudeness, but you’re delusional. Have you hit your head? Do you have a concussion? Follow me, I’ll take you to the police department.” She grabs his arm and tries to walk away, but she runs into some sort of force field, which seems odd. Then, she looked around and noticed people weren’t paying attention, didn’t seem to notice her, and didn’t seem to hear this man speaking to her, or see him either. “What in the world?” She whispered to herself. “That settles it,” the old man said, tearing his arm from her grasp, “you need an adventure, and I need amusement. If you want some work and are tired of your normal day-to-day life, come to this location tomorrow at 9:00 am sharp. Dress nicely.” Then he hands her a business card with an address on it and smiles, “Don’t be late, Celine.” Then he disappears and she’s back in the middle of the street, looking dumbfounded at what just happened. Then she said aloud, “Wait, how did he know my name?!” earning looks from passersby. Embarrassed, she began heading home so she could process everything that just happened.

Celine put her groceries away, changed into her pajamas, and flopped into bed, staring at the card she was given. It didn’t look like a typical business card, it seemed to be made of some shiny paper and it didn’t even have the man’s name, just the address he wanted her to go to. “Weird,” Celine mumbled and tossed the card onto her bedside table, plugging her phone in and lying back down. Suddenly she woke up and noticed her phone said 8:35 am, she quickly jumped out of bed, haphazardly fixed her bright red pixie cut, and put on a floral print dress and black flats. She threw her phone in her purse, grabbed the card, and ran out of the apartment as quickly as possible. She just barely managed to make it to the building and what she saw caught her off guard. It was a five-story building that looked dilapidated and abandoned. Vines were crawling up the walls, the windows were broken, and it seemed that the trees around it had been dead for many, many years. She froze in fear, staring at the building for what seemed like ages. She eventually shakes it off and glances at her phone, the time reads 8:55 am and she immediately runs inside the building, not wanting to be late for whatever this Wizard guy had planned. When she walked through the door, however, she didn’t see a lobby of any sort, oh no, she somehow ended up in a field in the middle of nowhere. “What the hell?!” Celine exclaimed. The next thing she knew, she heard a familiar laugh, Maverick’s laugh. “What is going on? Explain yourself to me! Where am I?!” Celine demanded, turning towards the old wizard. “You’re in the Kingdom of Calgora on the continent of Adamantia. Anything else you wish to know, you’ll learn as you go along. I have a gift for you, though, here.” The old man handed her a massive leather-bound tome and smiled, “Oh, and that little purse of yours? It’s become this thing called a Bag of Holding, you can hold many things large and small, but it cannot exceed 500 lbs. Enjoy your time, but I must be off. As the Royal Wizard, I have duties to King Auditorius, but I’ll keep an eye on you and check in from time to time. Before I leave, however, I’d like you to give that spellbook a try, you might be surprised,” and he winked. Not believing a thing he said, Celine rolled her eyes, opened the spellbook, and tried a spell called ‘Create Bonfire,’ aiming it at his feet. Suddenly a fire sprung up where she was pointing and it burned Maverick’s feet, who quickly jumped up at the pain and then laughed as he stepped on the fire to put it out. “I’m sorry, but what the hell just happened?!” Celine exclaimed, pulling her hand back, and suddenly she feared herself for the first time in her life. “Why, you just cast a spell. I knew you had potential the moment I saw you walking out of that grocery store in your world! Glad to see my instincts were correct. Be careful though, don’t accidentally harm yourself. Toodles,” and in an instant, Maverick disappeared. “Maverick, Maverick!” Celine called to no avail, “Stupid old Wizard,” she grumbled. Celine looked down and noticed she was still in her dress, and suddenly she felt very exposed, which was embarrassing. She pulled her phone out of her, now, Bag of Holding, and read the time, 10:45 am. Sighing, she looked around for some sort of path so she could get out of the middle of the field, as she began feeling bugs crawling up her leg and making her itchy. She looked around and saw one a few feet away, so she made her way over and began following it.

After what seemed like hours, Celine saw, at a distance, a giant stone wall with an open gate, which she recognized as a portcullis from her World History classes from when she was in school. She took a deep breath and went towards it. When she got within thirty feet, she heard a gruff, male voice say, “Oi, who goes there? State your name and business, stranger.” She didn’t feel comfortable stating her real name in this strange land, so she said, “My name is Annabeth Reed, I’m but a simple traveler just wishing to find a place to stay.” The man glared at her, “Do not lie to me, stranger. Give me the truth now or be arrested by me and questioned by the King himself.” Celine swallowed hard and said, “Alright, fine,” she mumbled to herself, “At least I tried,” and then spoke to the man again, “My name is Celine Markus, I’m a twenty-two year old from Los Angeles, California, on the continent North America.” The man didn’t believe her and was getting ready to arrest her when a woman behind her spoke up, “Arnold, don’t treat new arrivals like that! You may be part of the City Watch, but you are not the Captain of the Guard, I am.” The man now known as Arnold froze in fear and responded, “My apologies Captain Iseut, I meant the girl no harm, I’m simply trying to do my job!” “I understand, but the girl isn’t from here and she seems nervous and scared. Now go, it’s time for a shift switch,” the woman now known as Captain Iseut said. “Yes ma’am!” Guard Arnold said, rushing back into the city. Captain Iseut looked at Celine, “Now, Celine, how did you get here? You’re not from around here, it’s quite obvious by your attire.” “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, ma’am,” Celine answered nervously. “We’ll see about that, come to my quarters, I’ll get you some new clothes and maybe some tea.” Captain Iseut responded. “Not to push my luck ma’am, but I haven’t eaten today, so maybe some food as well, if it’s available,” Celine said, hoping she didn’t come off as ungrateful. “That can be arranged, oh and don’t worry about Arnold, he’s a good person and guard, but quite hot-headed.”

The two women walked into what Celine assumed was Captain Iseut’s room or quarters as the Captain put it. It was nicely decorated, the walls were made of stone, but there were tapestries with designs that Celine had never seen in her life, they consisted of golds, browns, reds, and slight hints of greens. One had what looked to be some sort of family crest on it with how it was designed, it was a green and white shield with the silhouette of an eagle flying in front of a large tree with no leaves, just bare branches. Celine tilted her head upon seeing the design and Captain Iseut noticed immediately, “Ah yes, that’s the Iseut Family Crest, beautiful, isn’t it? According to my father, my five times great grandfather, on his side, designed it himself. If I ever marry, I plan to keep my family name, my spouse will have to change their name,” the woman laughed, “it’s not exactly common for an instance such as that to happen, but then again, I’m not exactly a traditional sort of person.” “What do you mean by that?” Celine asked, turning to the Captain. “Well, women rarely join the City Guard, let alone become Captain. It’s often considered a man’s job, to be a soldier and a guard, at least here. I’m sure some other countries and Kingdoms have more of a combination of men and women in their military, but this one is more ‘traditional,’ if you can call it that. I wanted to be a knight or join the City Guard as a child, my parents didn’t like that, thought it was just the fantasy of a young child, a phase if you will. When I stayed true to my choice, they hesitantly let me train and join. Enough about me though,” the Captain says and begins boiling water in a kettle, “tell me who you are, how you got here, and if Celine is your true name.” Celine wasn’t sure if the Captain was telling the truth or not, but she also didn’t see a reason for her to lie, so she explained her situation to her. “Of course it was Maverick,” the woman said, rubbing her temples, “he always tries to find some new person to mess with. He always has high hopes for the people he chooses, but half of them die and the other half become stories for a short time and then no one remembers who they are after three months. Although, you’re the first from a completely different world. I’ve never heard of Earth or any of the places you mentioned. If you plan to stay for a while, maybe you can tell me more about these places you speak of.” The woman gets up and grabs the kettle off of the fire and pours them both some Jasmine Tea, then she fishes out some dry meats and cheeses, along with some bread, from her personal stores and splits it between the two of them. “Uh, sure, I guess. So you’re telling me this, ‘bringing new people here’ nonsense is a habit of Maverick’s?” “Unfortunately, yes.” Captain Iseut answers the younger woman. “Why me though? I’m not an interesting or important person, so I don’t understand.” Celine says, she begins to reach for the food when she stops and says, “You eat first,” to the Captain. “Suspicious are we? Smart, that will help you go far here,” Captain Iseut takes a bite of the food when Celine realizes it’s not poisoned, she begins eating as well, “As for why he chose you,” the Captain starts, “clearly he sees some potential in you that you don’t see in yourself.” “I guess,” Celine answers.

After a long conversation over lunch, the two women say goodbye to one another and Celine begins walking out of the Captain’s Quarters, then she stops midway to the door and asks, “Captain Iseut, ma’am,” “You can call me Renee, but yes?” the Captain responded. “Is there someplace I could stay for a few days? Like, a hotel or something?” “I’m not sure what a ‘hotel’ is, but there are a few Inns in town you could stay at. I’d suggest The Clydesdale Inn, it’s a bit on the expensive side, but it’s worth it. Their food is certainly better than what I had, their beds are comfortable, and there are different types of entertainment, if you know what I mean,” the Captain said with a wink. It took Celine a moment, but when she realized what the slightly older woman meant, she flushed a bright red, “Uh, maybe not for me, but I wouldn’t mind a comfortable bed.” “Very well,” she said kindly, “here’s twenty-five gold and a change of clothes. Some trousers, a bodice, some boots, and a cloak. All a brownish-green color to blend into the surroundings when you leave town.” “Thank you for your kindness and standing up for me Ca-,” she corrected herself, “Renee.” “You’re quite welcome, but be careful next time. Not every Captain of the Guard will do what I did, so if you leave Crisherton and go to another city, be warned.” The Captain said, a grave tone in her voice. “I’ll keep that in mind, have a good rest of your day,” Celine said with a soft smile and walked off.

She looked around for a few minutes and finally found The Clydesdale Inn, when she noticed it was near the docks a smile crept across her face, as she loved the water and the ocean, “Maybe this won’t be too bad,” she said to herself and walked in. As she approached the bar, a human-like figure with auburn hair, tanned skin, and seemed to be in his forties, greeted her, but he was very short and had to use a stool to see over the counter, “Lovely to meet you, miss! A traveler huh? I can tell you’re not from around here! Welcome to The Clydesdale Inn, the name is Fredrick Longfoot, and my wife and I own this little establishment. What can I get you?” Celine felt embarrassed again, she knew she stuck out like a sore thumb, but she didn’t realize it was that bad. She cleared her throat, “I’d like one room for a week please, if there’s one available.” “That’ll be fourteen gold,” the man said, “I hope you enjoy your stay. We’ve got a great performance tonight from a traveling musician. He’s been here for about a day and a half now. Now, what’s the name, dear?” “Celine Markus,” she answered, not trying to lie about her name for a second time today after almost being arrested. “Celine, what a lovely name,” a voice she doesn’t recognize says and she quickly turns her head towards the voice, only to see a creature with black Aurochs horns, blood-red skin, Merlot colored hair, and golden eyes with no visible pupil or sclera. Startled, Celine pulled out her pocket knife from her Bag of Holding, which had turned into a dagger, and pointed it at the creature, nearly falling off of her seat. Mr. Longfoot shook his head, “Now, now Arlech, I appreciate your performances, but don’t go scaring guests please.” ‘Arlech’ strummed his lute tunelessly and said, “Sorry Mr. Longfoot, I didn’t mean to. I certainly didn’t expect her to pull a dagger on me either. Although I think mine’s bigger,” he says with a wink. Celine flushes and almost smacks the creature across the face when he does, in fact, pull out a much larger and prettier dagger than her’s, “It’d be more like a short sword for old Fredrick though,” the creature says with a laugh, and Celine notices his sharp canines, much like a Devil’s or a Demon’s based on stories she’d heard from her world. “Pardon my language, but what the fuck are you two? I can guess Mr. Longfoot simply by his name and height, he’s a Hobbit, but you, Demon, Devil, looking thing, I don’t know about you. I’ve had enough scares and surprises for the day and I just got to this place like three or four hours ago.” “I’m not sure what a ‘Hobbit’ is, but I’m a Halfling, so if they’re similar I’ll give it to you,” Mr. Longfoot answered. Shit, that’s right, Celine thought, this isn’t my world, it’s far from it, I don’t belong here. “Let’s put our daggers away and properly introduce ourselves, shall we?” The horned creature asked and slipped his dagger back in his pants pocket. Celine looks towards Mr. Longfoot for reassurance, who says, “It’s alright, Arlech might talk you to death, but he’d never hurt someone unless he had to.” Celine sighed in relief and stuck the dagger back into her Bag of Holding. “You really should keep that on your person somewhere instead of in your bag, if those bags get destroyed, everything you have in there? Gone, and you likely won’t get them back. Anywho, let me formally introduce myself. My name is Arlech, a traveling musician and storyteller and I’m a Tiefling, hence the horns and red skin,” he said with a smile, purposely showing off his sharp teeth. “I’m Celine Markus and, obviously, I’m not from around here. I guess I have some sort of magic because I was given this book with spells in it by the Royal Wizard, Maverick, ever heard of him?” She replied. “Yes, I’ve heard of him, where are you from anyway? Women here certainly don’t wear such, ah, revealing clothing, in this Kingdom at least,” the Tiefling responded, looking her up and down. Celine looked down, confused, because she didn’t have any cleavage hanging out or anything, but then she remembered that the dress stopped above her

knees,

which looked shorter when she was sitting down, which she didn’t find to be too bad, but this wasn’t her world, so the ‘shortness’ of her dress might be ‘distracting.’ “I’m not from this world, I can tell you that much,” she answered. He laughed, thinking she was joking, “Are you serious? Come on, there’s no way.” “Want some proof?” Celine asked. “I don’t know what you think will convince me, but go ahead, show me this ‘proof’ of yours.” He replied.

Celine pulled her phone out of her bag, unlocked it, and showed it to him. Both Arlech and Mr. Longfoot looked at the phone in awe, “What IS this contraption?” the two men ask in unison. “It’s called a cell phone, they’re pretty common where I come from, a place called Earth,” she answered. Arlech reaches for the phone and Celine snatches it away, “Hey, ask first!” Celine says sharply. “May I look at this thing you call a phone?” Asked Arlech, slightly annoyed. “Say please,” she said back. “Please?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “Yes you may,” she says and hands it to him. Celine moves closer to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t try to steal her phone. “So, how does one use this?” He asks, staring at her phone in confusion. The screen times out, becoming black, “Oh no, is it broken, did I break it?!” the Tiefling exclaims. “No, it shut itself off because no one was using it, here, let me turn it back on for you,” Celine says, taking the phone from him and unlocking it with her thumbprint, revealing her phone’s background, which was her old family dog. “Wow, magical!” The horned man said in excitement. “It’s not magic, it’s technology. Though I guess to you all it would be considered magic,” she answered him. He tapped on the camera icon, not knowing what it was, and when it popped up, it was the front camera, which startled him, “What in the Nine Hells?!” he says, nearly dropping Celine’s phone on the hardwood floors. Celine just barely catches it in time and thanks whatever deity or deities this world may have that her phone didn’t shatter. “Please be careful, it can break if you drop it,” Celine said with a frustrated sigh. “Would it explode if it broke?” Arlech asked worriedly. “No, but the screen could shatter and I’m almost positive there are no screen repair shops in this world,” the young woman answered. “What did I do anyway? Why could I see myself? Is there an artist living in your contraption that makes lifelike art?” The man, Celine guessed, said. She laughed, “No, it’s called a camera, here, let me show you.” She unlocked her phone again, opened the camera app like Arlech had previously, and said, “Get a little closer,” he did and she took a picture of the two of them. Then she went into her gallery and tapped on the picture, showing it to both Mr. Longfoot and the Tiefling. “Astounding, I must go get my wife and show her this! Oh, and dinner is on the House for you tonight Miss Markus, simply for showing me such an interesting contraption. Edrich, give Miss Markus the House Special and our best ale.” Before she could say anything, Mr. Longfoot had run off and sighed, “I was gonna say that I prefer water or wine, but okay.” “I’ll take the House Special too, Edrich, if you don’t mind, and some whiskey,” Arlech said. “Be lucky you’re performing tonight or I’d charge you double,” a human, or, he looked like a human, but he had pointy ears, that was standing behind the counter said, which Celine assumed was Edrich. About half an hour later, Mr. Longfoot walked out with a normal human, probably about thirty-seven, from the back of the Inn, she had wavy, light brown hair and a smile across her lips, “Miss Markus, this is my wife, Helena,” he said. “Oh, you must be the newcomer with strange objects, welcome to our Inn! My husband seemed impressed with this object you had, and nowadays it’s quite hard to impress him,” she said with a laugh. Soon after, Edrich brought out Celine and Arlech’s food and drinks.

After an hour of conversation, and a few drinks on Arlech’s part, Celine began getting tired. She’d already had a long day of being transported to a new world and finding out she could use magic. She glanced at her phone, the time read 7:45 pm. She sighed and stuffed her phone back in her Bag of Holding and laid her head on the bar. She took a sip of water that had been placed in front of her an hour ago and out of nowhere, she heard Arlech say, “You know, you’re pretty cute,” and she choked on her water, “Excuse me?!” she exclaimed. “What, you’ve never been told that before?” He asked and Celine noticed he was slurring his words, clearly drunk. “Not by a drunk Demon thing,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tieflings aren’t Demons, they’re Half-Devils,” explained a drunk Arlech. “What’s the difference?” Celine asked, now amused. “Devils,” he slurred out, “tend to make deals with mortals and they honor those deals, alright? They’re not super violent, unlike Demons. A Tiefling, or Half-Devil, like myself, tends to have one Devil parent and one mortal parent. Usually, the mortal parent isn’t exactly willing to join an arrangement or deal with a Devil, but they do so out of desperation. Some Devils want a soul, others just want the mortal’s body, if you understand my meaning,” he says and gives a very drunk wink that was almost a blink, but Celine understood what he meant and rubbed her temples before he could explain any further. “Alright, time for you to sober up, Mr. Longfoot, do I have permission to knock some sense into him since he’s supposed to perform here soon?” She asks. “Go on ahead, just don’t kill him, if you knock him out, I have spare healing potions.” He answers, wiping down a plate. “Thank you,” says Celine and she pulls out her spell book and finds a spell called ‘Witch Bolt,’ “Oooh, sounds cool,” she says and casts it, but unable to control it, it hits a bar stool instead. Arlech laughs and she says, “Dammit” to herself and tries again, but misses a second time, hitting the same bar stool. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” and she gets up and pulls her dagger out of her bag, flipping it to the blunt side so she doesn’t hurt him too badly, she hopes, and tries to hit Arlech with the hilt, thankfully she’s not nearly as uncoordinated with the dagger and she actually manages it. “Jesus fuck,” she puts her dagger away, “why was that so difficult to do?!” she said, rubbing her eyes. Arlech snaps out of his drunken stupor, “Huh, what? What just happened? Did you just hit me?” “Yes, you have a performance, stupid, and you were drunk, so I needed to snap you out of it.” Celine answered. “Oh, thank you.” He answered, rubbing the back of his head. Then he noticed the burn marks on the barstool behind him, “How did that happen?” he asked. Celine gritted her teeth while Mr. Longfoot chuckled, “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Oh, alright then, let me go get changed into a new outfit for my performance and the music can begin!” Arlech exclaimed and ran up the stairs. A few minutes later, Arlech comes back down the stairs in an all silk, purple outfit, from a button up to a pair of pants, and a beret with a feather attached to it and began to strum his lute and sing, a beautiful baritone voice comes out of this strange Half-Devil thing. Celine was genuinely impressed, she didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t that and her jaw was on the floor. Mr. Longfoot chuckled, and murmured to her, not to interrupt Arlech’s performance, “If he doesn’t win ya over with his sarcasm and wit, his singing will.” Celine scoffed and murmured back, “He didn’t ‘win me over,’ I was just surprised is all. I didn’t expect him to actually be GOOD at singing, ya know?” An hour passed and Arlech’s concert ended with a bang, as he changed the color of the flames from the chandeliers into a purple color, much like his outfit, and everyone that had come to see his show applauded. He took his beret off and people gave him tips of up to five gold, which Celine assumed was a big deal with how he reacted. “Thank you, thank you all so very much! I appreciate

all of your generous tips and I’ll be here all week if you’d like to see me perform again! Goodnight everyone!” Cheers erupted again and Mr. Longfoot stepped up to the platform that Arlech had been on. “Thank you all for being here for tonight’s performance! I hope you enjoyed yourselves because I certainly did. Now, I do have to apologize, however, I’m closing up for the night, so those who only came to see the performance and have homes to return to, you need to leave soon, unfortunately. For the patrons that DO have rooms and are staying, I’d like you to clear out the dining hall here pretty quickly and make your way to your rooms. Thank you again, have a wonderful night, and may the Gods bless you to have a good day tomorrow.”

As the patrons clear out and make their way to their rooms, Arlech plops next to Celine, still in his concert outfit, and asks, “So, did you enjoy that?” “I mean, yeah, you have a good voice. I didn’t expect that at all.” Celine responds. “You underestimate my musical ability? Why, I’m offended.” He says sarcastically. Celine laughs, “I just didn’t know what to expect. Remember, I’m not from around here?” “Well, you’ve got a lot to learn here Miss Markus. Clearly, the world you’re from is vastly different from this one, so you’ll need to adapt to everything. I’ve traveled to quite a few different cities here in Calgora, but outside of this Kingdom, I don’t know much of what’s out there. Maybe we can learn together.” He says with a grin. “Are you trying to flirt with me?” Celine asks, raising an eyebrow. “Is it working?” Arlech asks. “Nope.” She responds. “Then no, but if you’d like someone to travel with anyway, I’ll gladly join,” he answers. Celine sighs, “Fine, but only if you promise to stop trying to flirt with me.” “I don’t know if that’s a promise I can keep. It’s quite fun, and useful if you use it in the right circumstance.” “I hate you,” Celine says half-heartedly. “No, no you don’t, and I think you and I are gonna be good friends.” The Tiefling says with a tired grin. “We’ll see about that, anyway,” she looks at her phone and the time reads 10:35 pm, “I should get some rest. I think I’ll chill here in the city for a couple of days to get used to my surroundings and then try and find some jobs to make some sort of money. You need money to live and to get money you need some sort of income.” “Sounds like a plan,” Arlech responds, “there are usually requests for help on the board near the post office to get some money, there’s also the Solarstriders and you could apply there if you wanted.” “What’s the Solarstriders?” Celine questions, tilting her head. “Oh, they’re an organized group of mercenaries who take requests from private investors, whether it be someone from high society that doesn’t want to do the dirty work themselves, to kill someone from a competing House, or to kill some ridiculous monster for parts to sell, or smugglers and crime families and such that usually want some monster’s part for profit or magic. I'm not part of the group, or Guild, if you will, but if a group asks, I’ll occasionally help out if something sounds interesting, and if the money is good.” He explains. “That could help out a lot actually. I’ll think about it. Anyway, goodnight, don’t get as drunk tomorrow night, I might have to actually kill you next time.” Celine answers, smiling, and heads upstairs to her room for what she hopes is a nice, long, rest.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXIII

January 6, 2278.

“People of the Capital Wasteland! It’s me, Threeeeee Dog, your master of ceremonies. Everyone ready for the wasteland's latest news? Me neither, but it’s that time again.

We haven’t heard from Miss 101 for quite a while now. Three Dog was even starting to fear the worst after eyewitnesses reported sightings of Talon Company mercs lingering near Rivet City, the last location she was seen alive with her ghoul friend, Charon. GNR sources confirmed the body of five mercs in the metro tunnels that connect from Anacostia Crossing to the Museum station. Sounds like they messed with our dynamic duo and fucked up real bad. If the kid and her bodyguard survived the ambush, Three Dog is still confirming, so stay tuned. Here’s to hoping the Wasteland Avenger and her faithful Ghoul Reaper are still alive and kicking. The Capital Wasteland needs people like them.

And now, for some music. Here’s Billie Holiday with Crazy He Calls Me.”

“Wasteland Avenger my ass,” Percy mutters.

Beside me, my partner tosses and turns, unable to sleep. I roll on my side, and see her back turned to me, arms defensively around herself. We’re huddling together for warmth in a single bedroll, under a musty tent. The campfire outside continues to burn, providing us with additional heat.

“Charon, are you awake?”

I grunted in response, my chin settling on top of her head.

“You got a little scary earlier today, big guy,” Percy tells me, and I wince. “I didn’t want to issue an order, but that’s the only way I got you to stop. What happened?”

With one arm, I prop myself up, and with the other, I pull her into an embrace. She turns and presses her forehead against the crook of my neck.

“I blacked out.”

“Was it an episode? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t an episode.”

“Did Phillips really piss you off that bad?”

I look into Percy’s eyes. They were searching mine. I nod, and I press my mouth against her forehead.

“Huh. That’s the first time you ever reacted to someone saying shit about you.”

“I was pissed about the things he said about you,” I corrected her.

We lay in silence for minutes. Just when I thought she had finally fallen asleep, Percy extends her arm and wraps it around my waist.

“I’ve been thinking about what he said. About Dashwood… and me.”

I let her continue, running my gloved hand through her hair.

“He’s got a point. Like Dashwood and Argyle, we’re friends, yes, but our relationship really is unequal.”

I get the feeling that she’s going to bring up the contract again.

“When you’re ready, let’s get rid of the contract together. Promise me?”

“That may take a long time, Percy.”

Looking in my eyes with wet ones, Percy gives me a pleading look.

“I don’t care how long it will take you. I could be old and gray and I’d still wait for that day. Please?”

Please. Damn that word.

“I promise.”

“There’s something else that’s bothering me,” Percy continues.

“What if I keep making the wrong decisions, Charon? What if I screw Paradise up? What if I screw Project Purity up?”

“There’s no room for doubt now,” I tell her.

“I know.”

Letting her go, I sit up and take my shotgun. “I’ll keep watch,” I tell her.

“You should rest too,” she tells me, peering up from the sleeping bag.

“I am trained to go with less sleep. I insist that you rest, angel.”

Percy chuckles, voice soft.

“Fine. Good night.”

I left our tent and stood guard outside.

It was around four in the morning when Percy started screaming, and I rushed into the tent to see what’s wrong. I had to put my arms around her and press her against my chest again to calm her down. Her pulse was racing, she’s sweating despite the cold, and her skin is pale and clammy. I move her closer to the fire, where she clings to me, trembling.

“Percy, are you alright?”

My partner nods. She takes a bottle of water from our pack, and drinks desperately, a stream of water escaping her lips.

“Just a bad dream…”

As my night terrors became less frequent, Percy is starting to have them more often.

I wish I could do something to help her.

Taking off her glasses, she presses her hands against her face. “God, what’s happening to me?”

“You’ve been through a lot of distress for the past days.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. I am,” she replies. Percy stretches, then gets up.

After having a breakfast of Cram and tucking our gear safely into our pack, we got on the motorcycle and I started driving again. The sun is rising in the east, where we’re heading.

“Are you sure this will work?” I ask her through the roar of the engine.

“Knowing the Brotherhood, they won’t spare any resources to help me. But I still need to try.”

I kept quiet and drove on. When we arrived at the Citadel, one of the guards eyed us and our vehicle.

“A working motorcycle? Never thought I’d see the day,” he comments, opening the gates for us.

He was smart enough not to say anything about my presence and just let us through. The last time he did, things got ugly.

I follow Percy into one of the buildings, where the scribe that gave us the location of Vault 87 usually stays.

“Scribe Rothschild,” Percy calls his attention.

“Ah, Persephone. I’ve heard about the ambush. I’m glad you survived. Have you retrieved the GECK?” the scribe asks. His eyes were glued to the terminal he’s using.

“We ran into some problems, but we found a way to get in through Lamplight. The thing is, the residents are asking me for a favor in exchange for entry. We need to save their friends from Paradise Falls. I’m planning to launch a full-on attack, and I need all the resources you can spare.”

At the last sentence, Rothschild looks up and gives Percy a scrutinizing look. “A full-on attack? You know that the Brotherhood is spread thin as it is, with the mutants crawling about in DC.”

Shoulders tensing, Percy folds her arms. “I thought this chapter of the Brotherhood is dedicated to protecting people. How can you even let Paradise Falls continue to exist? They should’ve been wiped off the map years ago.”

“I told you, Persephone. We cannot spare resources for that. You will have to find another way to get in Lamplight, force your way in if needed.”

“But they’re children, Scribe.”

Rothschild gives my partner a long, hard look, and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Groaning, Percy massages her temples, brows furrowed and scowling. “I should’ve known that this would be a waste of time.”

Then, one of the tin cans approached us. This one is old, battle-hardened. Her hair was graying and there were lines at the corner of her eyes.

“Excuse me. I can’t help but overhear your conversation with the scribe. You are James’ daughter, am I correct?” she asks Percy, and my partner looks at her with wary eyes.

“Yes. You know me?”

“Indeed! I am Star Paladin Cross. On behalf of the Brotherhood, I welcome you to the Citadel. I am proud to say that I was friends with your father. I helped guard the purifier from the super mutant horde, and when James left, I escorted you and him to Megaton. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Percy looks at me with wide eyes, and back to the elderly paladin.

“Thank you. In five days, we will be launching an attack on Paradise Falls to rescue the slaves and end their operations, once and for all. I would appreciate it if you can join us in the battle.”

“Your father would be proud. I’d be honored to join you on your mission,” Cross replies, extending her hand to my partner, and she shakes it. Cross looks at me, and I expected her to scowl in disgust, but she merely nods, acknowledging my presence.

Maybe this old lady isn’t so bad.

“Meet us at night in Gob’s Saloon in Megaton, on the tenth. We’ll discuss tactics there. See you, Paladin.”

As we turn to leave, Percy stops in her tracks.

“Wait. Paladin Cross, are you any good with big weapons?”

Cross smiles and stands proud. “Brothers are trained well and tempered in the fires of battle.”

Percy smiles, and I can tell she’s formulating several ideas in her mind.

“Good! I look forward to discussing tactics with you.”

“It’s always a subject worthy of discussion. Farewell, friend.”

After changing the fission battery of the motorcycle, I start the engine again, and Percy gets on.

“Where to next, Percy?”

“Rivet City. I need to check if Flak and Shrapnel carry missiles.”

January 8, 2278.

“-get this! Little Miss 101 and her trusty bodyguard are still alive, and have been spotted cruising around the wastes on a motorbike. Where the hell did they even find a working one? Regardless, they’ve been very active for the past few days. What are they even up to? Off to start a motorcycle gang? Just joyriding around? Whatever it is, the Capital Wasteland’s buzzing with excitement due to the return of the Wasteland Avenger and the Ghoul Reaper, now on wheels! Hahaha, bad guys better watch out!

Until next time! This is Three Dog, and you’re listening to Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts.”

“So what are you up to, Nosebleed? And why are you leaving Dogmeat with me again?”

Across us, DeLoria smokes a cigarette, on break from barber duty. Bottles of Nuka and whiskey littered the table. Percy wipes her mouth with a handkerchief.

“Because if I leave him at Moira’s, she might attach him with a fifth paw or something. It’s a secret, Butch. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“You’d better not be starting a rival gang, Perce. Once a Tunnel Snake, always a Tunnel Snake.”

“I have no plans of competing with you, DeLoria. How’s the gang anyway?”

Butch falters, sagging. “Well, uh, there’s no new members yet, but only because I’m so busy with being a barber! Gotta get that dough. Ain’t like you who can scour the wasteland for caps.”

I snorted. Percy laughs outright.

“Yeah, you’ll probably end up as mole rat chow if you tried that.”

DeLoria crushes his cigarette in a nearby ash tray and flicks the butt towards Percy, which she dodges.

“C’mon, for old time’s sake. What are you two up to now? It’s getting boring around here. The Butchman needs some action.”

“Butch. You cried when we came across a radroach on the way here. I’d rather not get you involved in something so dangerous.”

The greaser frowns. “But that was a radroach! You know I hate ‘em scurrying little freaks with their scratchy legs, eugh. I can shoot and I can stab anything else!”

“You can’t even shoot without almost shooting Percy,” I tell him, and his frown deepens.

“Oh yeah? Like the two of you can do better…”

Percy snickers. “Charon is a trained soldier, while I spent my free time in the vault at target practice. Just let it go, Butch. You’re safer here.”

“If he wants to be useful, maybe we can use him as bait,” I say, and both of them turn to me. DeLoria looks annoyed as hell, while Percy gives me a blank stare.

Fuck, this is what I get for trying to joke.

“Not funny, asshole.”

“Wait. That might work,” Percy mumbles.

“Percy, what the hell!” DeLoria exclaims, looking a little hurt.

Percy moves next to DeLoria, and she cups her hand near DeLoria’s ear to whisper. Then, the greaser looks at her with wide eyes. “No way. That’s crazy Percy! How are you gonna even-”

“Keep your voice down! Do you want in, or not?”

Butch groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, fine, I’m in. But if I die, I’ll fucking haunt you, Perce. You too, Charon.”

Standing up, Percy drags Butch to the Muddy Rudder’s exit. “I won’t let you. Which is why we need to work on your aim.”

I follow the two up the stairwell, where Butch complains the entire time.

At the top of the ship, there are a few security guards patrolling about. Percy speaks to one of them, then she leads us to the far edge of the ship.

“Do you have your pistol with you?” Percy asks Butch.

“Yeah, always. What-”

“Unload it.”

“Why would I do that?”

“We wouldn’t want to waste bullets and shoot anyone now, do we? Just do as I say, DeLoria.”

Butch does as he’s told and tucks the clip in his jacket pocket. “What now?”

“Aim.”

He does as he’s told, but his stance is off. Percy sighs.

“God, you can’t even aim properly. Charon, help him.”

Ignoring the greaser’s complaints, I shove his feet with mine in an effort to correct him. Once he was in the proper position, Percy perches a bottle cap on top of the 10mm.

Ah. I get it now.

“Practice shooting without making the cap fall off,” Percy instructs him, and steps aside.

DeLoria fires, but it falls off.

“Dammit. This is stupid.”

“Just keep practicing, Butch.”

It keeps falling off, and at that point, I was getting annoyed.

“No, not like that. Don’t use your joint. Don’t wrap your entire finger around the trigger. Use just your distal phalanx to fire,” Percy instructs.

“My what?”

Ah, fuck it. DeLoria’s involved now. Might as well continue teaching him.

“Percy, should I demonstrate it for him?” I ask my partner. She nods.

DeLoria begrudgingly hands me the gun. Percy perches the cap on top of the pistol, and I shoot. It remains steady.

“Watch Butch,” Percy tells the greaser. “See how he doesn’t flick the trigger? Try exhaling as you fire too. Breathing can throw off your aim.”

“Great, now you’re teaching me how to breathe too? Where’d you even learn all this, Perce?”

I do it again.

“Well, aside from target practice in the vault, I came across this simulation thing. It’s like a video game, but if I die in it, I die in real life. I watched the soldiers do it.”

“Simulation? What?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to believe, I know. But it was supposed to be a virtual training exercise for soldiers to get ready for the Battle of Anchorage, 200 years ago.”

The cap fell off of the gun as my breath hitched. I hand it back to DeLoria.

“Now, try it again.”

This time, Butch gets it.

“I did it! Whooo! Look out Wasteland! The Butchman’s coming for you!”

“Oh, shut the hell up,” Percy comments.

With a cocky smile, Butch goes back to practicing.

“Meet us at Megaton in two days, Butch.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you.”

I follow Percy down.