#to have the man who sold his soul to devil in his last moments before being condemned begging to god mirror jesus's line from his last

[scuttlingcrab]

The Great Hunt

An Absolute Waste of Time

Summary: Raphael is MAD. So full of rage and malice he is about to burn down the entire Sword Coast before the Mind Flayers even arrive. What could possibly get the Devil's knickers in such a twist? Tav, oh that cheeky little mouse, sold the Orphic Hammer. And for what? Gold, of all things.

In this second instalment, Raphael tears through Baldur's Gate, from the Circus of the Last days to the Blushing Mermaid, trying to locate it.

He has never stooped so low…

Check out PART 01: In Search of a Hammer here!

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

The Devil stood in an alleyway across from the Beehive General Goods, feasting his eyes on the flames as they devoured that worthless shop whole. The building was destroyed faster than thought, leaving nothing left but a lump of charred scraps. That didn’t stop a throng of mortals from gathering; just like maggots infesting a corpse, they quickly exchanged gossip in a hushed buzz, chewing over theories as to what could’ve possibly caused such a tragedy. 

Muffled squeaks came from below Raphael, the noise grating against his ears. He gazed towards the sound, sending a stabbing look at the creature responsible for creating such an annoying racket. A large rat was confined in a jar, frantically clawing its glass prison in an attempt to escape. Raphael’s smile held a touch of mockery as he picked it up, rocking it only just to cause the rat to fall over. 

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, my dear Oliver.” Raphael whispered, bringing the glass closer to his mouth. He hissed at the rat, briefly showcasing his Devilish fangs before concealing them again. “The next time someone calls upon you, asking for a particular item, it would be in your best interest to show them the utmost respect. That is, if you’ll ever be fortunate enough to walk this earth on two legs again.”

The rat’s beady eyes widened as it recoiled, finding no means of escaping Raphael’s scathing glare. Instead the creature screeched in terror and began running around in circles. Pathetic. Raphael halfheartedly discarded the jar, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked deeper into the alley, further removing himself from the growing chaos in the streets. 

As cathartic as it was admiring his work, and torturing that insufferable shop owner, it would get him nowhere. Time waits for no man, or Devil, and Raphael had to act quickly if he was ever going to succeed in his plights to unite the Hells. 

Raphael nearly shattered Oliver Tefoco’s soul into a million pieces, threatening to simmer his corpse in a cauldron and make jam of his remains. He would sooner have fed that to a stray dog than let his tongue touch such filth, but Oliver was none the wiser. All this effort just to extract what was needed from that worthless creature. The whereabouts of the Orphic Hammer. He got his answer, eventually. These maddening mortals would be the death of him, they had no ounce of intellect, no common sense, throwing around an item as valuable as the Hammer like it was yesterday’s trash.  

The Devil stopped abruptly, resting his hand against his hip. His chest tightened, his breathing growing more erratic as his heart began to convulse. No. His fingers burned, the tips pulsing red, on the verge of erupting into Hellfire at any moment.

Raphael needed to restrain his temper. After all, he was saving it for one person in particular, the very mortal who deserved all his wrath, and all the pain and suffering that would soon come raining down upon them. Tav. The sole fool responsible for these recent inconveniences and his current rampage through Baldur’s Gate. If they hadn’t so gleefully sold the Orphic Hammer for gold, Raphael would be sitting comfortably in his best silks, sampling his most decadent wines, and waiting for the final battle to begin. It’s that same little shit who had somehow lodged themselves straight into his head, becoming his very own parasite. Any other unfortunate mortals who just so happened to get caught in his fiery rage were merely collateral. They could all burn, turn to ash, for all he cared. He wouldn’t stop until he had the Hammer and his Crown.

Snap!

A fiery gateway appeared before him and he stomped through towards his next destination: The Circus of the Last Days. 

--

Popper the Kobold was having the very best day of his entire life. Well, maybe that wasn’t true, he’s had plenty of good days, he could count them all on one hand. Wait, no both hands. He was sure he had more good days than this. To be honest, he couldn’t remember much of what happened yesterday. He was too focused on the juicy prize in front of him as he dragged a fresh corpse through the Circus of the Last Days, leaving a trail of blood behind him. 

He just couldn’t believe his luck, like earlier, buying that hammer for practically nothing! His very first hammer too! What a deal. It was the biggest, prettiest hammer he had ever seen, the top reminded him of blood, tasty blood, that’s why he liked it so much. And it sparkled like a diamond. He was really looking forward to smashing things with it, lots of different things, but then he found that corpse. Oh, yes. Nothing was better than a fresh body stuffed with loot. He practically skipped all the way back to the Circus as he hauled it, so chuffed with his little ol’ self for making such a swap. Probably his bestest swap ever! 

Popper swatted away all the nasty looks from the humans as he pushed through the crowd at the Circus’ entrance. They all stared at him like they knew the dead person he was holding. He even made a few of those smaller, weaker humans cry and run away, but he paid them no mind. Maybe they’ve never seen such a delicious snack before. Maybe they were jealous… that’s right, jealous! He better get straight to business then, the sooner he could pull that body apart, the faster he’d be left alone. It would be no good, absolutely no good, if Lucretious noticed he brought another corpse to the Circus. They’d steal it, just like the others! And experiment on it with their dirty magic. This was his corpse! His! He’d show them!

The Kobold finally reached his tent and threw the corpse in the centre of his living space, quickly scurrying to a large crate stuffed in the back, near the privies. He dug through the crate, packed with all his very favourite toys, pulling out random scissors, broken knives, and even a few odd bits of monster parts, things he definitely forgot were in there… until he finally found it: a large rusted cleaver. It was covered in a thick layer of grime. It had seen lots and lots of bodies, yes it had!

“This is most perfect!” Popper explained, to nobody but himself.

Whack, whack, thump, whack. 

He immediately began slicing at the corpse, hacking off limbs in no particular order or with any care, licking his lips as he pulled apart an arm and ripped up a leg. Before long, he got himself into a rhythm, chopping faster as his stomach growled with excitement. Oh, the treatos he would have!

Popper was nearly finished too, until he stopped, unexpectedly distracted. He scrunched his snout, tilting his head up high as he smelled the air around him. He stuck his tongue out, licking the air like it was an icy treat. Something smelled like burning and tasted rotten, like the Hells. 

Screaming came from the crowd near the stage as Popper watched a thick coat of smoke rise into the air like a huge balloon.

“Maybe they’s be adding some new magics? Or… they’s really be loving Dribbles’ new replacement?” Popper whispered, nodding to himself. He was ready to start again, but he noticed something else, something weird coming towards him.

A tall man, dressed real fancy like, definitely not in normal people's clothes, pushed through the other humans; not even saying ‘scuse me as he did so. The ground at his feet turned black as he came towards him. Oh, this man was mad. His face was all scrunched up, his mouth curling in all sorts of directions. Maybe he ate something that didn’t agree with him? But the oddest thing of all, this man was staring directly at Popper! Giving him a creepy look, meaner than anything he’d ever seen, even from Lucretius. 

“You!” The man shouted, his voice shot through the air like an arrow, making Popper drop his cleaver. 

“Y-you come for me? You must be wanting my treatos!” 

The man was very tall, casting a long shadow over Popper. The Kobold nearly fell over looking up at him. 

“Oooh! You is casting some real fancy magics.” Popper pointed at the ground as flames appeared at the man’s feet, like he was standing in the middle of a campfire. “You is the most perfects human for the stage, sirs, has you—“

“Treato…?” The man began, his face getting more twisted, just like the roots of a tree. Actually, the more Popper stared at the man, the more he realised his eyes were the scariest, most terrifying things he had ever seen. There was definitely fire in those black eyes.

“Uh… yes? Duh! Treatos. I have lots. Is that not why you’s are here? Popper only has the bestest treatos, yes sirs. And magics. If you has any—“

“If I cracked open your skull…” the man continued, “what would I find inside? Hmm? Oh, I know. There would be no brain, that’s for certain. If there was anything, I would imagine it to be the size of a grain of rice. Undetectable to even the most skilled physicians.”

“Yous what? Take your fancy smelly clothes and eat shit, you human bastard! I has the biggest brain and I is…”

Popper had a poor temper. He always got in a lot of trouble for snapping at customers if they said certain things to him. Once or twice, well maybe more than that, he bit someone’s hand clean off. And another time, he nibbled at an elf's toes. All because they said his treatos were mouldy! Nobody makes fun of Popper. Their toes didn’t taste any better. He hasn’t done that for a while though. Lucretious would fire him right out. And he needed this job. But boy, did Popper want to bite this man. Real good. 

The man pointed his long fingers at Popper and he noticed the man’s skin was red, just like his, and he had long black fingernails. All of a sudden, Popper wasn’t very hungry anymore. 

“You will cease this stupidity at once.” The man’s voice was low, as if a growl. “I have wasted enough time already. So we will cut to the chase. Heed carefully what I say, you flaming imbecile. And you will answer me plainly. Else I will take you far away from here and slowly pick your worthless body apart, scale by scale, until nothing remains.”

Popper gulped, his tail curling between his legs. The only thing he could do was nod back at this man, who really wasn’t much of a man, the more Popper thought about it. 

“Good.” The man said, placing his hands on his hips. “Where is my hammer? I know you have it. I spent the last hour torturing a man only for him to cry out your name repeatedly.” There was a long pause as Popper stared up at the man, unsure what to say, confused as to why this man would be torturing anyone, let alone looking for a hammer. “Do I need to spell it out? Perhaps I need to use a simpler language for the likes of you.” 

The man leaned down, within inches of Popper’s face.

“Oh… Oh!” Popper raised his finger in the air as he just realised something. “I in fact, once had a hammer. But not for very long, you sees, it just so happens…” 

Popper continued to tell the man how he came to find the hammer, the one matching his exact description, which Popper found very funny. What were the odds! But he stopped laughing when the man glared at him again, showing some sharp teeth when he grinned. Which wasn’t very gentlemanly. 

At that moment, the Kobold wished he still had that hammer. So this man could go away and he could go back to doing other stuff. Like thinking about what he was going to eat for supper. Actually, the more Popper thought about it… that corpse probably wasn’t worth it. This was turning out to be too much trouble. Maybe it wasn’t his lucky day after all. He even found himself wanting to apologise for all the times he ever wished terrible things on Lucretius. 

They weren’t so bad. Or scary.

Not at all. 

--

Raphael despised the Circus of the Last Days. It was a vile place. Absolutely vile, the lot of it. He couldn’t fathom these mortal buffoons parading around and calling themselves enterainters. And the worst part of all? The clowns. They were a mockery of the stage and its true purpose. There was no art in what they claimed to achieve. He hoped a few of them might perish in the day’s ahead. And by no means a quick death either. Something excruciatingly slow and agonising. Like roasting their bodies over a spit of Hellfire, a thousand times over.

These raging thoughts grew bloodier, more gruesome as he moved on, going from one location to the next. He was certain his heart could sink no further, but he was quickly mistaken as his search for the Orphic Hammer proved to be never-ending. Somehow, the damned thing kept evading him, always missing it by mere moments as it was handed on to the next moron who decided to gamble with their fate. Raphael’s anxiety grew worse, wrapping around him like the tendrils of a Mind Flayer; squeezing his limbs, crawling up his neck as he progressively found it harder to breathe, to concentrate. 

Of course Raphael had no issues getting what he wanted from Popper. But that itself came at a cost. Raphael had received too much information, practically hearing that creature’s entire life story. No detail was spared. It would forever be ingrained in Raphael’s memory, the monotony, the stupidity, of it all. 

In the end, Popper had met a band of mercenaries and traded the Hammer for a corpse. A putrid corpse. Raphael eventually tracked them down, the group lurking about some caves near the Lower City like a bunch of thieves. But did they have the Hammer? Of. Course. Not. It couldn’t have been that easy. They had lost it. Naturally. In the sewers, of all places, abandoning it after they came across some wizard. Or so they said. He was very much looking forward to meeting this ‘supposed’ wizard. Before Raphael left the mercenaries to their business, he viciously snapped his fingers, causing all their precious loot to melt away at their fingertips. The ones who had it on hand screamed in agony as the gold, the necklaces, even some of their armour and swords, merged with their flesh. Served them right.

“Bah!” Raphael screamed, his voice echoing off the slimy sewer walls. When the sound faded, the only thing he could hear was the continuous dripping of water as it leaked from the decaying ceilings above him. 

Raphael was lost, wandering the sewer system beneath Baldur’s Gate for what felt like days, years even. His boots were soiled, completely ruined. He was covered in filth up to his knees as he trudged through the cesspool. He would certainly be burning this entire outfit when he was through. No spell or potion would be able to cause these rancid smells to disappear. A shame, really. This was one of his favourite doublets. 

As he manoeuvred his way through the snaking, narrow pipes, he made a mental note to revise Tav’s current contract; adding in an additional clause, or perhaps two, for every minute he spent searching for the Hammer, and for the ruination of his wardrobe. 

The stench of the sewers progressively worsened as Raphal entered a large chamber, the excrement somehow smelling more bitter. He took a step forward and nearly slipped, holding onto the crate next to him to avoid falling face first in the muck. He looked down, only to discover he was stepping in grease. 

“I will wring their sorry, little, pathetic neck!” Raphael cursed, steadying himself as he began to take careful, calculated steps through the rest of the chamber.

“What’s this cousin?” A squeaky voice spoke as a Drow appeared from behind a corner, revealing themselves rather flamboyantly. He was dripping in the same greasy substance that covered the floor, and surrounded by what seemed like an army of grease elementals and mephits. 

The Drow pointed at Raphael, “Ah! It is but another Absolutist, come to see what we–” 

Raphael took one look at the Drow and rolled his eyes. 

Snap!

The entire room instantly turned into an inferno, every creature within the vicinity of the grease was consumed by flames. Their screams lost against the raging fire. Raphael didn’t even know who that Drow was, nor did he care. There was no more time for talking. 

He continued through the extensive network of sewage pipes, navigating every underground hallway, tearing apart every room as he dug through boxes and discarded chests, but he found no Hammer.

He eventually stumbled upon a man standing alone in a hallway. The mortal was dressed in plain armour, his face riddled with all sorts of interesting scars. Perhaps at another time he would've loved to pry open that mortal and find out how he got those marks. There was no one else around him, and he simply stared at Raphael, with absolutely no care in the world. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen an Orphic Hammer floating around this cesspit? Hmm?” Raphael said as he approached the man, standing in front of him. 

The man held Raphael’s gaze, but he did not respond.

Raphael gritted his teeth, his fists trembling as he raised one hand in the air, preparing his thumb and middle finger for this man’s immediate extermination. The Devil was emotionally exhausted; the weight of it all, his infernal obligations, his hopes, his doomed destiny… it threatened his strength, his resolve. If he sat down, slumping against the grimy walls of the sewer, he would fall into a deep sleep from which he might never awaken. Hammer or not, this charade needed to end, this unfortunate act was going on for far too long. Raphael almost wanted to applaud the entire situation, for whoever was behind the scenes orchestrating his madness. His despair. How many more mortals would he need to obliterate before he found the Hammer? If he found it at all? Flames appeared at his fingertips as he held the pose, his anger building. The mysterious man didn’t even blink.

“Raphael?” Spoke a familiar, low voice. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

He twirled around at the mention of his name, only to find Mol staring at him from the opposite end of the hallway. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised as she gaped at him in confusion, holding a small dagger in her hands. 

“A most welcoming sight indeed.” Raphael dropped the flames, clapping his hands together with relief as his temper cooled. 

Mol grinned, sheathing her dagger. 

“That one doesn’t talk, by the way. Which is really annoying, if you ask me.” There was a brief pause as Mol eyed Raphael up and down, “Say, what are you even doing down here? I heard a HUGE explosion and came running out of the Guild. Thought it might’ve been, you know… the end of the world.” Mol spoke the last few words in a hushed whisper. 

A tiny sliver of hope fluttered in Raphael’s heart as he looked down at Mol, she could be the one who got Raphael out of this mess. The Tiefling could have the answers, a lead, something! She was resourceful, had her eyes and ears all over the city. There was a reason he had secured a deal with her in the first place. Mol's soul was one thing, but she had potential, promise, he never doubted her for a second.  

“As much as I’d love to catch-up with my budding protégé, I must act swiftly. I have no time for pleasantries, I’m afraid. I do have but a small favour to ask of you, however.”

Mol’s eyes lit up like fireflies. 

“Anything!” 

Raphael leaned towards Mol, his face growing serious.

“My Orphic Hammer is missing. You know the one. I’ve seen you snooping about my archives, flipping audaciously through some restricted documents.” 

Mol’s cheeks turned red and her eyebrows raised, only for a moment, but she did not look away from Raphael. She was guilty, yes, but not ashamed. A valiant trait.

“Nothing escapes me, but if it was anyone else and I’d have incinerated them on the spot. Now, please, do you know where it could be? Have you heard anything that might be useful? Time, my dear Mol, as you know, is of the essence.” 

“Hmm…” Mol bit her lip, her forehead wrinkling as she thought long and hard.  

“No, I’m sorry Raphael.” 

Raphael deflated into himself, burying his face in his hands. The disappointment was crippling. His skin caught fire without warning as he began to change into his cambion form. His doubts, those treacherous thoughts of failure, crashed down on him from every direction. He massaged his temples, attempting to keep himself calm, collected, especially in front of Mol.

“But… and you might find this interesting, actually…” Mol continued and Raphael stopped short, mid transformation. Devilish horns peeked out of his mortal head, a tail sprouting from his back, but the rest of his human proportions were otherwise the same. “I’ve heard there’s rumblings of a big trade happening at the Blushing Mermaid, and I mean BIG. You might want to stop by. That’s the only thing I could think of. I wish–”

Raphael quickly cleared his throat, rectifying his appearance as he slid back into his mortal disguise. He straightened his posture, smoothing his doublet and trying not to grimace at the filth that still clung to it.

He placed his hand on Mol’s shoulder, giving it an appreciative squeeze in good measure.

“There is a reason I decided to be your mentor, Mol. I knew you’d never disappoint.”

Raphael giddily clapped his hands and a gateway appeared behind him, leading directly to the Blushing Mermaid’s interior. 

“Mol, might I suggest you find a suitable safe house for the time being. These rumblings are only going to get worse. You were right in your thinking earlier, the end is near. It would indeed dampen my spirits to find your soul waiting for me upon my return, or to perhaps learn that you’ve been turned into an Illithid. Prepare yourself, and I will meet you when this business is concluded.”

“Yes, boss!” 

Mol gave Raphael an enthusiastic salute, befitting of an experienced general. That gesture alone made him beam with pride. 

This mentorship would prove to be a wise investment indeed. 

--

“Could you believe Fenris…?” Lissa muttered, resting her head on the table. It was sticky, everything was bloody sticky at the Blushing Mermaid. This place was a dump, but it was more affordable than the Elfsong. Especially on her wages. 

The gnome didn’t care though, all she wanted was for the world to stop spinning. She felt like she would retch up yesterday’s, today’s, and tomorrow’s breakfast at any second. She had too much to drink. Again. She should really stop taking up the bottle, she could only handle one drink with her figure, and she had drunk at least four so far today. It was all Vola's fault, that damned half-elf, she was a bad influence. 

“Dragging that… t-thing…” Lissa carried on, suppressing a burp, “What w-waas it again?” 

“Huh?” Vola groaned awake, her head lolling side-to-side as she tried to focus on Lissa. “Oh… you mean… t-that… hammer? It was a hammer, right? F-fucking huuuuuuge for a hammer, ha!”

“The hammer!” Lissa screamed, “y-yessss, the hammer.” 

Lissa and Vola stared at each other, then burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, slamming their fists on the table like a pair of monkeys.

“Gods, Fenris dragged that hideous thing through the dirt, c-couldn’t even l-lift it. Fell r-right on his f-fat faace.” Lissa struggled to lift her head, hitting it against the back of the booth they shared. She blinked slowly, barely able to keep her eyelids from falling shut. “Ne-never sseeen such a t-tthing in my life.”

Lissa reached too fast for the half-empty glass in front of her and caused it to topple over, the ale cascading in all directions. 

“Oooooops.” Lissa said, still laughing. 

“W-whaat a waste!” Vola proclaimed.  

Lissa turned towards the bar, raising her hand high in the air. She was about to call for the bartender when she noticed a very tall, and extremely handsome man standing at their booth. Oh he was a charming son of a bitch, with a smooth smile, and dark, pretty eyes. His clothes were a bit dirty though, but Lissa had seen worse. 

“Good afternoon, my esteemed drunkards.” The man said, his voice was rich, deep, and dreamy. 

“Would you allow me the pleasure of purchasing a drink for you both?”

“Free b-booze?” Lissa asked.

She looked to Vola for confirmation, but the half-elf was fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. Lissa kicked Vola under the table and she shot awake, her arms flailing in all sorts of directions. 

“Free b-boooooze.” Lissa whispered, tilting her head toward the man at the head of the booth.

“On me.” The man said with a wink. He smiled broadly, showcasing such white, beautiful teeth. 

The man did some sort of magic trick, conjuring sparks by snapping his fingers, or clapping his hands… Whichever it was, he caused two massive glasses of ale to appear on the table.

“W-wooooow.” Lissa and Vola muttered in unison. 

The man slid into the booth, edging closer to Lissa. She sniffed the air, smelling all sorts of lovely, new things. Cherries, and a yummy flowery smell. She ignored the sudden stench of the sewers though, convinced it was from the Blushing Mermaid.

Oh she didn’t want this man to ever leave. 

“I’m very curious about this hammer you’ve been discussing.” The man said, his eyes locking with Lissa’s. “Please, tell me all about it…”

--

The Devil watched over a mortal man as he slept soundlessly in a small bed, his protruding belly slowly rising with each staggered breath. His snores rattled the very walls of Flaygo’s Flophouse, but Raphael paid no attention to the irksome noise around him. His eyes were focused on the Orphic Hammer the man clung to in his slumber, holding it tightly like he was but a babe in a crib.

The sun had already begun its descent, a purple glow leaking in from the open window. He could see the entranceway of Sharess’ Caress from his vantage point in the cramped room; the brothel was as busy as ever, despite him setting the Devil’s Den ablaze mere hours ago. Raphael let out a long, exasperated sigh at that thought alone. An entire day gone to waste, when the Hammer was under his nose this entire time. Fate was cruel, the weaves unpredictable, no matter how hard he tried to control them. 

Raphael couldn’t pull his eyes away from the Hammer, he dared not to. It could be an illusion for all he knew, vanish the moment he reached for it. 

The man turned over in the bed, taking the Orphic Hammer with him as he shifted, groaning in his sleep. 

“Oh, I do hope you’re having a pleasant dream.” Raphael whispered, taking a step closer. 

Raphael was within inches of the man now, so close he could smell the booze reeking from his breath. As he extended his hand towards the Hammer he paused, beginning to chuckle. It started slowly, but grew more ferocious as every second passed, until he was nearly on his knees, roaring with laughter. Fire spurted from Raphael’s mouth like a forge as he wheezed, unable to control his breath, to contain himself any longer. Tears formed out of the corner of his eyes, flooding down his cheeks. They evaporated as soon as they met his scorching skin. Despite Raphael’s raucousness, the man remained undisturbed. 

The Devil had seen it all, tortured just about every miserable soul from the Outer Plane to the Elemental, but he never thought he’d see, let alone experience, anything like this. A lowly creature, clutching on to the future of mortal-kind. A tale worthy of the bards. 

Suddenly, the earth shuddered violently, as if waking up from its own slumber. Paintings flew off the walls, bookshelves toppled over, and the room vibrated continuously as the quake worsened. Mortals screamed from the streets below as some of the buildings in Wyrm's Crossing began to topple from the earth’s constant movements.

Raphael swiftly collected himself, shaking away any remaining bouts of laughter. He clapped his hands to rid his outfit of any evidence from the day's plights. When he was satisfied with his appearance, and found no speck of dirt or grime left, he snapped his fingers, and the Hammer flew into his hands. He squeezed its hilt until his knuckles turned white, feeling the weight of the Hammer in his hands. 

Showtime. 

A reckoning was coming and not the one Tav might’ve expected.

To be continued…

[its-your-mind]

FUCK ME but EXU: Calamity really DID run the gauntlet of Tragic Heroes.

The Senior Sightwarden for the Eyes of Avalir, the public defender who realizes too late that the work he has poured his life into was fundamentally flawed, and yet he still let it take priority over watching his children grow up. Before the world ends, solving one final mystery - taking the time to look at the life they’ve left behind, and discovering for the first time, how incredible they were.

The Keeper of Scrolls, the prolific academic, who has prized knowledge above all else - family, friendships, herself - her whole life, only discovering in the last moments before the apocalypse what could have been done to prevent it.

The Dragon, the greatest negotiator and businessman in the world, burned from within by molten gold coins because he was unable, in the moments before the end, to convince his closest friends to listen to him before they made a horrible decision.

The Voice of Avalir, the Changeling, who left the Fey Wild behind for this realm of magic and progress and imagination, the faerie who fell in love with a mortal, the trusted face and voice to an entire people, and the man who at the end, died alone, in silence, his own face hidden under the mask of the goddess of death.

The Architect Arcane, the woman who knew more about the theoretical possibilities of magic than anyone else alive, who gave up everything - her life, her love, her self - to relentlessly pursue progress, only to watch powerlessly as her closest companions fall to a power for which she has no basis for understanding.

And the Knight of Avalir. The Good Man, the Widower, the Protector, the one who believed in the good in all people, no matter who they were or what they had done. The one who sold his soul to the devil for the chance of a chance to save his son, the one whose goodness was not enough to stop the evil that sought to return to the world… But.

Zerxus’s final act before he was fully lost was enough to restore one man, one archmage, for just the few seconds he needed to buy a bit more time, to give this extraordinary group of people a few more hours, just a few, to mitigate the inevitable damage as much as was possible - and that small gift of time was what turned each tragic ending on its head, and gave these people the chance to come together one final time for the good of the world.

Laerryn, turning her life’s work into just the tool that was needed to prevent full-scale annihilation, who at the end when asked what she had done, was finally able to say that she had done her best.

Loquatius, who turns down the chance to return to his people, who rouses the public to have hope and unite as one to face this danger, and whose final words of magical power are not for the public, but for his beloved alone, as he softly begs her, “Do not leave me.” Who spends his true final moments in the place where he belongs - in the arms of the woman he loves.

Nydas, who rallies his pirates and businessmen to the ships to save as many as possible, commanding them to leave behind the goods and the gold, because the people of Avalir are the true treasure, and saving them is worth any price that can be paid.

Patia, who discards all notions of status and propriety as the world falls around her, who ensures that the students she brought into this city to study are safe, and who takes in her hands everything she has ever learned and sends it away - to a young girl, far away from the destruction, who has the best chance of anyone she knows to ensure that some of what was learned was not lost.

And Cerrit. The one and only surviving member of the Ring of Brass. Who takes the one chance he gets to flee his city as it collapses around him, flying as fast and as hard as he can, desperate to survive, to keep his promise to his children, to make it home and do his absolute best to protect and save his family.

They couldn’t have stopped The Calamity. That was always going to be beyond them. But in the end, they were the reason that there was something of the world left after the dust settled. Their story was always going to end in tragedy. But because of them, the rest of the world was able to move forward in hope.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction. Part 3

Chapter 13 - Gortash’s End

{find my full fanfiction pinned and linked on my page!}

“Give me the baby and I’ll give you an answer,” I mumble sternly, my brow furrowed to express my seriousness. “Please.”

“You are the worst at persuading. You lack common knowledge,” Ketheric growls, but smirks mockingly. What these men don’t know is that I’m trying to distract them from the next move I’m about to pull. I glance over at Karlach, who is standing over Fanden’s weak, tiresome body.

“Now,” I demand, and Karlach then curbstomps Fanden’s head, resulting in his death at last. If he had a chance of redemption, I would have reconsidered, but he sold all real, positive emotions to the Hells, leaving him with a hunger for murder. While Ketheric and Gortash turn their heads to Fanden, watching him die, Gale then consumes an invisibility potion and snatches our child back from the clutches of Gortash.

“You…you killed my son…My ONLY son!” Gortash’s eyes are shut tight as he clenches his jaw, his fists enclosed in fury. I can hear his heavy breathing as he fights the urge to destroy everything in front of him. “You realize, Emmy, that you’re no better than any of us. You’re a murderer, too.”

“I sure as hell am not perfect. I wish I was. I wish I could’ve given my baby girl a life to live. I would’ve done anything to give her a chance to grow up and see the world. If I didn’t sell her soul and grant her immortality, she would’ve been consumed by the devils. Fanden was unable to be saved. He sold his own soul to escape the sorrows of his mother’s death, but was granted a heart full of hate in return. He practically lusted for Bhaal. There was no way to change his heart, and killing him was best for the world. Too many innocents have been lost.” I take a deep breath as I fight the tears trying to escape my eyes. Gortash observes me as I feel the urge to cry, recognizing raw emotions on my face. I notice our friends staring at me as well, but with smiles on their faces. They know my intentions are purse and that I’m not afraid to admit I’m far from perfect.

“I didn’t want to kill him,” I add. “I would’ve loved to get to know him and be actual siblings. But I knew that wasn’t possible. I’m sorry it had to come to this. I’m sorry your parents ruined your entire life by selling you to a warlock. The past couple weeks, I constantly questioned what life would be like if you were never influenced by power. I forgive you, but I can’t accept you into our lives. We’re trying to be free from corruption.” Gortash and Ketheric exchange a diabolical glance, yet for a moment I can tell he regrets his past. A gleam within his eye appears to be glossening his eyes, as if there’s…tears?

“I can kill her,” Ketheric tells him. “We can take control again. We can take this power, be cleansed of our mortality and become immortals once more. Then you’ll never have to see me again.” Gortash is silent, hesitant even, but whatever positive thought crossed his mind, he completely snapped out of it.

“Let me handle this, Ketheric.” Karlach steps in to take Jenevelle from Gale’s arms; she must sense that our powers are beginning to rise and could unleash at any moment. Gortash then places his hands around my neck in a chokehold, staring heavily into the depths of my eyes. His grim smile quickly fades as we make eye contact, and he loosens his grip. It’s as if the evil left his body that very second and something within him changed. I see a tear run down his left cheek.

“My little girl…”

“What in the fuck is going on?” Karlach shouts, just as confused as I am. Memories open up before me like some weird vision. I see myself as a young girl playing in a field, which happens to be the one my mom’s home was at. My mother is cooking a delicious meal outside while I play, picking dandelions and putting them in my basket. I see a familiar man approach our home – Gortash. He needs to talk to my mother, but about what? My mother tells me to go inside, so I do. I later asked her who that man was and she told me not to worry about it.

Gortash can also see these memories that opened up between us. Who caused this? Me? Are my immortal powers revealing past secrets I forgot about?

“Oh, you were so happy. I kept suspecting all those years that you were my daughter.”

“ENOUGH!” Ketheric shouts, losing every ounce of patience. He whacks me viciously with the weight of his warhammer, though I feel nothing at all.

“Ketheric! Stop this at once!” Gortash pounces on him, pinning him down for a moment, glaring deep into his eyes. “Don’t you lay a hand –”

“Snap out of it, Gortash! You’re falling for her utter bullshit. She’s manipulating you.” Ketheric is behind all of this somehow, but why is he so offended? Now that I think about it, I did take away his immortality and killed him once before. I guess that’s fair. Gale and Wyll strike Ketheric with fireball, leaving him damaged and on his knees.

The power within me can no longer be contained at this point. My immortal powers, perhaps? Whatever it is, Ketheric triggered it. Gale and I both rise, levitating in the air from the build-up of energy within our bodies.

“Guys, stand back. Karlach, take that baby far away from here. This could get nasty,” Wyll warns her. “Honey, now!” Karlach bolts off with our daughter until I can hardly see her, and suddenly the fatal wave of radiant energy is released, bursting through my body, as well as Gale’s. I can feel the violent heat escape my body as it obliterates the evil I’ve been dying to destroy.

As I descend back to the ground, I stare mindlessly as Ketheric’s body burns to a crisp. Two out of the three are completely dead, but where’s Gortash? Did he manage to escape? Karlach comes bolting toward Gale and I with Jenevelle in her arms and hands her to me as she’s trying to catch her breath. I hold her tight, worried sick that I could’ve lost her. I try not to imagine the horrid possibilities.

“Oh Gods… I’m so glad you’re okay, little one.” I kiss the top of her head, feeling relief flow through me as I hold her close.

“The question remains: where did Gortash go?” Wyll asks. “He could be anywhere.”

“I…I don’t know…I thought we would’ve killed him for sure, unless he turned to ash.” In the far distance I hear a loud groan, as if someone is suffering. We all look at one another, realizing it’s Gortash’s voice.

“He’s over there!” Gale points to the left of where we’re standing and we notice him lying on the steps of Moonrise, covered in dust, bruises, and blood. As I walk up to his weak body that’s on the edge of death, I hand the baby to Gale for a moment. Gortash seems badly injured and I’m unsure how to feel.

“Emmy, I mean this sincerely… I really am sorry. No, it isn’t some scheme to take control and have all the power. When I opened my eyes after I found out I had children…” He coughs, releasing small puffs of ash from his mouth.

“Children or not, you got so many people killed in Baldur’s Gate. So fucking many. People were worked to the bone. You tried to kill Wyll’s father. You sold Karlach to Zariel when she was a child, and she had no choice in the matter at all. What you’ve done is unforgivable!” I take a deep breath, feeling rage and frustration as I try to contain myself. “I want to hate you. I wish I wasn’t even looking at you.” I notice a light smile curl on his face, expressing just an ounce of emotion through his dying body.

“But you have one thing I never had: a good heart.” He coughs some more, followed by an intense and heavy groan from the pain he’s in. “Damn it. Can you do me a favor and just kill me now? I’m hurting and can hardly breathe…”

Do I want to give him a death he’s begging for? Let him suffer slowly? If I let him live and get him the help he needs, I’d be betraying so many people close to me. Halsin walks up behind me and places his hand on my shoulder.

“Emmy, no matter what you choose, we’re here to support you.” His voice is so soothing, like a lullaby during a midnight sky. Karlach doesn’t look mad, but she looks as if she wants to let something out. If it’s toward Gortash, she’s keeping it contained rather well.

“Killing the man would hurt you and I can see it in your eyes that you don’t want to. He’s your father. Just know I’ll never be able to bring myself around him and if he causes mass destruction or even plans it, I’ll kill the fucker myself with my bare hands.” She’s fighting the urge to cry but stops herself by breathing in and out. While our friends seem to be alright with whatever choice I make, I can’t help but feel a huge weight sit on my chest. I look at my darling husband, who is unsure of how to feel about this predicament. He will not break eye contact with me, but he’s hoping I’ll say something.

“Be very careful and consider the outcomes of your decision,” he murmurs, gently rocking Jenevelle in his arms. “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want any sort of relationship with my father at all, but…”

“Whatever you choose, please make it quick. I’m fine either way, whether I accept death one last time or starting a new life elsewhere,” Gortash says with weakness in his voice. I sigh, feeling guilt and anxiety rip me apart from the inside out.

“I’ll let you live.” I cast ‘cure wounds’ on him, watching his body become restored to its former glory.

“You actually healed me?” He stands up, staring at his arms as they no longer appear to be bruised, then he firmly looks me in the eyes.

“Just know this, I will not have a bond with you. If you pull any crap like you did before, I will have no issues coming back to brutally murder you.” I can hear one of our companions gulp nervously as they stand behind me.

“Emmy, you’re a wonderful friend, but I’m not quite sure that was the right choice. You know what he did. You know what he’s capable of,” Wyll whispers. “Do what you must, though.” Wyll has a point. Am I letting Gortash’s manipulation tactics get the best of me?

“I will stay away if you wish. I’ve never been dishonest about my intentions. Yes I wanted power and corruption, to be at the top and dominate the city. Bane chose me, and somehow gave me another chance.” Before I can even respond to his words, Karlach steps up and gets just inches away from his face, her brow furrowed from anger.

“WHAT? You’re somehow a changed man and you regret your horrible life choices? You ruined my LIFE! You almost killed Wyll’s father! You…you…” Tears form in her eyes as she tries to find the right words to say to him. “You destroyed me.” Wyll holds her intimately, stroking her hair as she’s in his embrace and crying on his chest. My eyes glare back at Gortash.

“Nothing I say will be enough to–”

“FUCK no it won’t, Gortash,” Karlach interrupts.

“I’m so sorry Karlach.” It’s time I stop being quiet and test his faith, test his priorities and if he’s really the changed man like he says he is.

“Will you turn away from Bane? Will you continue to allow his influence? Your answer determines what is to come,” I mutter with a stern tone. He’s hesitant as he stares blankly at me, then just a moment after expresses sadness within his eyes. That look alone answered my question.

“No, I can’t. I’m… I’m so sorry.” Am I truly surprised? Maybe if this all happened before the fight with the brain, before he died the first time, I would have convinced him to change and turn away from Bane. The fact Bane gave him a second chance to live only made his bond stronger.

“I figured as much.” I pull out a dagger from my pack and swiftly stab him viciously in the heart, watching him gasp from the shock and sudden pain inflicted upon his body. “I should have known you’d never change, not even for your own daughter.”

[praeteritus-memories-muses]

Name: Astre Phantomhive "Ciel" Phantomhive

Series: Black Butler

Continuity: Manga

Age: 13

Height: 5'0"

Birthday: December 14th 1876

Birthplace: Phantomhive Estate, England

Orientation: Biromantic / Asexual

Species: Human

Occupation: Earl to the Phantomhive estate

Father: Vincent Phantomhive (deceased)

Mother: Rachel Phantomhive (deceased)

Sibling(s): Ciel Phantomhive (deceased)

Bio:

TRIGGER WARNING: CSA AND HUMAN TRAFFICKING

"Ciel" Phantomhive was born shortly after his twin brother. Though unlike his twin who had perfect health and an extremely friendly personality - "Ciel" was shy and suffered from somewhat severe asthma. As children, Ciel always got to play with Elizabeth and others while he was stuck inside coughing but watching from afar. Even if the two were so vastly different, seeing as so many people preferred Ciel for he was the healther twin, he was still a happy child. Even if he was sickly, he had a dream as a child that one day he could open a toy shop for other sickly children to have toys to play with but a part of him felt like quitting it just so he could be there for Ciel.

It was the twins’ tenth birthday when no one came to prepare them for their birthday dinner. Ciel always seemed to be smarter about darker things than him and decided to leave the room to find out what happened. "Ciel" was all alone, quite frightened being the weaker twin, and ran down the hall just to see where his brother went. All around the mansion were dead bodies, blood smearing the walls. The only thing that was alive at first was Sebastian, the family dog. Just as "Ciel" is running down the halls looking for his brother, that's when Sebastian would take off in a growl. He hears a whimper from Sebastian before opening the door to see his parents and the dog were dead and covered in blood. His scream that day was so loud that surely those in the village nearby heard it, he ran down the hall to see the only surviving servant left but the next thing he knows he’s suddenly taken away and knocked out until he’s shoved into a carriage all tied up.

"Ciel" was absolutely terrified and felt like he was losing all sanity. His parents were dead and Ciel was missing!? At least he thought he was until the twins were recognized as such and thrown into a cage where "Ciel" cried all night with his twin. Pretty soon people would flock to them to try and purchase the twins, which was when a mysterious man had.

The two were sold to a devil-worshiping cult, though the night they were lead to the cult's "church" was when "Ciel" had truly believed the two were saved by a very nice man. That was "Ciel" 's last innocent thought for now belonged to a cult, the twins were brutally tortured and assaulted for an entire month with no promise of escape in sight for the two boys.

Things only went worse on January 14th, 1886. It was the day to finally sacrifice the “lambs” to summon the demon, to which the Phantomhive twins would be the first. They looked to each boy and randomly chose Ciel to take away. "Ciel" screamed and begged for someone to help his brother, trying to reach out for him in the cage he was locked in but no one would help. It was in this moment, watching his brother die brutally from a stab to the heart, that "Ciel" had completely snapped.

With a proclamation against God and everyone inside this cult, some kind of inky black creature would emerge from Ciel's blood. It was a demon, and this demon wanted him for apprently "Ciel" had been the one to call him unknowingly from his proclamations of hared and anger. The demon taunted "Ciel" by telling him he was the one who sacrificed his own brother's soul. It was as he sat there thinking about what to do and how he'd live, that was when he realized that this was all the fault of whomever killed their parents. It was that night that "Ciel" made a deal with Sebastian. The deal was that "Ciel" would give his soul in exchange for killing whomever it was that killed their parents so long as Sebastian didn't lie, disobey him and would protect him at all costs.

Why pretend to be Ciel then? He knew very well that Ciel was the loved one. No one would be happy if the sickly spare returned and "Ciel" blamed himself for the death of his brother. The poor boy has extreme survivors guilt and refuses to believe that he too was loved and cared for by his family. What didn't help was that Ciel was the strong one, how can be be strong when he was the sickly twin who would always gasp from running just a little?

Upon seeing her home's fridge filled with dead rabbtis, wine bottles everywhere, cigarettes in a far too full ashtray, disgusting conditions of her little swimming pool and they found her diary - they deemed Misfortune was living in a home unfit for children and placed her into the foster care system. Her mother didn't really put up much of a fight and her father was instead taking his fury out on her mother more than he already does.

When he returned home, no one knew that "Ciel" was pretending to be his older twin. Everyone simply accepted him back as Ciel with absolutely no questions nor noticed a difference. Perhaps it was the trauma everyone expected to happen caused this or no one really could tell the twins apart aside from their parents. Either way he knows what he has to do, keep the charade until the day comes where he can kill whomever it was that murdered his parents.

[dazed--xx]

Sold Your Soul

Request: Ooh could I request Yandere!Sugar Daddy! Seokjin¿

Member: HARD Yandere!sadist Jin x Reader

Genre: angst, yandere, (implied smut)

Word Count: 1,590

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Abuse, manipulation, pressured sex, handcuffed to a bed, hair pulling, name calling, whatever else I forgot to put sorry guys  

A/N:  MY FIRST JIN FIC thank you to the beautifully dark and non-descriptive soul for sending in this request, I hope you enjoy it and this finds you, I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEHAVIOR IF YOU ARE BEING ABUSED GET HELP, PLEASE. And with that being said send in more requests  

Summary: Kim Seokjin, V.P. of Kim industries, powerful, wealthy, and charming. The sweetest heir to the Kim enterprise according to the public. You believed it, his overwhelming charm and confidence the mask for the demon within. Jīn has gotten whatever he wanted, and he wants you. With your contract only days from ending, Jin declares you’ve violated the contract and now you belong to him. Permanently.  

(not my gif)

Month 5 day 22 10:42 pm

If anyone was to ask you how the past 5 months 22 days have been you’d say a secret nightmare, your provider was a ruthless and spoiled man. The onlookers would say you were lucky, the heir to Kim Enterprises was spoiling you with riches, paying your tuition, etc... The soft glow on his skin, his plump lips, his soft fragile image of the perfect son in the perfect family had shattered within 2 months. The abuse of his power and wealth over you, use of your safe word during sexual punishment would result in financial punishment. If you would have read the fine print in your contract with him you wouldn’t be handcuffed to his headboard as he released his anger, at his words “your betrayal”. Only hours ago, he was losing himself inside you, holding you in his arms fingers lightly tracing circles on your arms. How did you end up here?

*flashback*

Your hands curled around the bottom seam of your skirt griping it tightly. Your entire body shaking as the driver pulled to a stop in front of the large office building. Your mouth completely dries itself up. “Miss y/l/n Mr. Kim has requested you inform his assistant you have arrived from the front desk give them your name, then proceed to the 16th floor Mr. Kim's assistant will meet you right off the elevator she will give you further instructions. Have a nice day” his driver speaks soft and swiftly.  

You shakily eye the building. Taking a soft nervous step your breath hitches in your throat. As you step into the building you look around everything seems to happen in the blink of an eye and soon you were rushed into his office. You turned to close the door behind you and you stared at the closed door in front of you and your hand stayed frozen on the handle.  

“You can leave if you'd like but from what I know so far Miss Y/l/n you need me more than I need you” His velvety voice rang through your ears. “Come. Sit.” he said with a more commanding tone. As your eyes trailed over the luxurious office, I do not belong here you thought. Your legs acting on your own as you find your way in the chair placed in front of his desk eyes never once leaving the floor. “you're nervous” he states softly. You nod softly, a blush creeping on your face.  

You hear him lift himself off his chair and soon you can feel his hand on your shoulder, he lowers his body kneeling in front of you. “Do I make you uncomfortable y/n” his hand lifting my head to face him I shake my head “n-no sir” my meek voice barely over a whisper. “Have you read over the contract miss y/l/n?” you nod taking in his handsome features. The curve of his lips, the playful innocence in his voice. “All of it?” you nod lying to him, you dozed off reading the contract around the termination clauses. “And you're............experienced?”  

“yes, sir I'm here to please” you reached into your bag and handed him the contract. “Well miss y/l/n consider your student loans and your sisters medical expenses paid for, now that business is taken care of on your knees beautiful let's see how eager you are to please” He stated standing straight up unzipping his pants. You stared at him in shock, how did he know about your sister.

*present* -Month 5 day 22 10:23 pm

You weren't sure what you had said to set Jin off but he was livid. Your terrified state only encouraged his anger. He got off on your misery, he was enamored by the beauty of your face as tears streamed down it. The way you would shake like a chihuahua if he so much as looked at you a certain way. You had fallen into your submissive role the second you handed him the contract. He knew he loved you the moment he saw you that day walking home from work. A man in Jins position had wealth and anyone at his disposal to keep an eye on you and report back. He knew everything about you before he even presented you with the 6-month contract. Even though he had paid off all your expenses before you even knew he existed.  

He praised you when you did well, punished you when you acted out. He loved you and you loved him well he thought you loved him. As the days got closer to the 6-month mark Jin heard you making arraignments to leave his side and find another place to live. He thought it was just cold feet you were scared of your love and maybe he just needed to remind you who you belonged to and everything would be alright. Until you came to him with an apartment you had put a down payment on, wishing you could begin slowly moving your things in to adjust from the past 6 months as you put it.  

His anger only grew as you continued about the life you wished to lead after you leave him. He could only see red as his hand strikes you. He continuously shoves you back until your pressed against the wall. His hand finding its way to your throat, “who the fuck told you that you could use my own money to pay for some silly thing like an apartment, you aren't leaving y/n” he growled forcing his lips on yours “who put that stupid idea in your weak mind? Your sister? Your mother? Or are you a fucking whore y/n?” you wince as he adds pressure to your throat “that's it isn't it! Who is he? Ill fucking kill him” you look at him terrified words fighting their way out  

“NO-ONE! P-please get off me, I-I s-swear there's been no one b-but yo---’LYING BITCH WHY ELSE WOULD YOU BE SO DESPARATE TO GET AWAY FROM ME Y/N I LOVE YOU; YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT YOURE NOT LEAVING ME Y/N” He yanked your arm roughly, dragging you to your room. He grabs the handcuffs he keeps in the night stand beside the bed. Wrapping one of the cold cuffs around your wrist, he yanks it pulling you across the room. “N-no Jin please! I can be good I-I can b-be go-od p-please!” you scream as you grab onto the door.  

The pain in your wrist growing stronger. Jins face is now red “what did you call me” his voice is low the burning sensation in your wrist turning to throbbing as Jin stares at you. Your eyes widen as you force the door open, as your small figure makes it past the frame you can feel his hand in your hair, the burning sensation scratching its way through your head.  

The tears burning your eyes as you scream in pain “PLEASE HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE!”

You fight back but its utterly useless and he handcuffs you to your headboard “I fucking help you, you piece of trash. I give you everything! Everything I have y/n, you want me you have that you want my money I’ll transfer it all to you every last cent. I've bought you clothes food trips for you and your waste of space sister, I've given you freedom and respect and all I get in return for my love and kindness is disrespect, infidelity, and used. You want to know why your other Doms got rid of you y/n?” your eyes travel from the ceiling to his face.

 The hurt evident, “it's because you’re a gold-digging whore y/n you want money and that’s it you don’t care about how people feel you don’t care about love or anything you fuck anyone that will give you a bigger pay check and leave a trail of broken hearts. But I'm not one of those men y/n I'd rather kill you than live without you” he states standing frozen in the middle of the room his hand pulling a gun out from behind his back, pointing it right at you. “so, y/n do you want to die?”  

Your heart raced as you shook your head rapidly the tears rapidly flowing down your cheeks. “N-no p-please s-sir, I-ill d-do anything” his small huffs turning into a hearty laugh as he points the gun to his head, slowly rubbing it against his temple  

“It doesn’t matter if you want to leave it doesn’t matter if you want your own apartment. You violated your part of the NDA, Y/n by exposing our relationship and arrangement to your pathetic little sister you CAN’T leave, I mean I could sue you but I already know you don’t have that kind of money. Didn’t know when to bring it up but I felt now was a good a time as any. So, you see Babygirl you belong to me and the only way you're leaving me is death either by my hand or your own” he places his body on top of yours “and I hope for your sake its by your own, you know how I like to see you cry and bleed baby” his lips capture yours as your tears mix with the taste of his tongue.  

You closed your eyes as his hard long member enters your core, erasing the misery from your mind as you breathlessly moan “sir”  

you’ve sold your soul to the devil and He’s here to collect.  

[faerunscursed]

Experience proved that no matter how kind many people seemed, there was always two sides to most of them. Whereas Wyll was exactly what he presented as a the time; the charismatic Blade of Frontiers whose goal was to be the hero humanity needed. It just so happened to be that the source of his power was that a fiend. Many didn't like this and though he had formed some semblance of friendships over the years, they crumbled the moment Mizora appeared. All of his efforts were for naught as most condemned him for making a deal with the devil yet again. Those losses he couldn't avoid...

Of course before that meant that he would only have Mizora's company and could not trust that events wouldn't be repeated. Yet Wyll had faith that this particular group wasn't like the rest, especially Karlach. Karlach might not like Mizora, nor would she approve of his deal, but she had become a quick friend. And yet not even she could dream of touching an ounce of the connection that he and Mizora shared. How intricately bound he was to her.

The most, Mizora was the monster underneath ones bed. A devil whom was responsible for so much wrong, like the many other devil's. That wasn't what Wyll saw, what he experienced over the last seven years. The motherly mask she wore was more than just a mask for him. Did she manipulate him at times? Surely. Wyll, however, did not care about that. She meant well for him, in a twisted way, and had made him exactly what she had promised she would. A monster hunter.

"Without you the Blade of Frontiers wouldn't exist, plan and simple. Even before that child. I would be a fool to say otherwise. There was no one else to encourage me." Everyone else had left, always would.

Oh how Mizora knew how to entice the darker parts of the warlock with mere words. As their tails wrapped around each other, he could see the image of the statue she described. Wyll could see his brilliantly sculpted statue, horns and tail included. This statue didn't strike fear however, no, crowds surrounded it and praised it. A statue of a true hero. It was all he ever wanted, and somehow felt more satisfying than getting recognition from his father. His moved excitedly in response.

"I'll admit the idea is certainly enticing, but I would be a fool to assume they would readily accept a devil as their hero." His excitement died down at that thought. Wyll could no longer hide behind a normal face, his truth all but laid bare for the world to see. "To get to that position, I am afraid I will lose a part of myself along the way. Maybe I won't be the man I am now, who knows."

Wyll quickly froze in place as an image of himself was conjured before him with minor illusion and it wasn't just any image of himself. It was an image of him before he had made the deal and sold his soul to Mizora. He took a deep breath and stood then, approaching the image, running his hand through the projection.

Gods this boy was nothing like the man he was now. No, this was a boy who had yet to see a true tragedy. His face was so thin and untouched by the cruelty that would befall him, eyes so full of hope and promise. A boy who wished to earn his fathers love and respect, but was also afraid. Even seeing the way he was dressed then, reminded him of all that he had lost that day. Of the fate his father had put him through. The last time those eyes were pure.

"I remember being this boy, a product of my father, down to the last thread on that finely tailored coat. He wasn't ready to see the world how it truly was and yet he was forced too." Wyll clenched his fist and shook his head as he turned to face Mizora, willing the image to go away as he felt his heart ache. "And it was that boy who lead me here, the death of everything I was and brought about my rebirth. You're right, I'm stronger than that now. More prepared."

While Mizora was away, Wyll was left to simmer on his hatred towards Gortash. That snake had weaseled his way into his father's good graces, or at least had tried to but Wyll had seen him for what he was. He alone knew Gortash's intent and got in his way at every chance, to prevent him from taking a foothold in a legacy that wasn't his. For Wyll was the rightful heir, not him, despite wanting nothing to do with the role. But he would have taken it, if it meant Gortash didn't. However, it seemed that after his father kicked him out, the bastard had managed to do the impossible and that enraged the Warlock.

So by the time Mizora returned and read the clause, Wyll was engulfed in a rage he couldn't control. Soon it would consume him entirely if he didn't get better reins on it. His lone eye burned with that anger, a show of his infernal fury. It wasn't until he felt his gaze on her that he turned his attention to her, the rage still in his eye. The offer called out to him and he knew he couldn't refuse.

"I will not hesitate to hunt Gortash down like the piece of trash he has always been," Wyll said in a gutteral tone as he clenched his fists tightly now, his hands turning more white by the second. "The only disappointment that I will feel is knowing that after he dies I won't be able to personally torture him myself for all that he has done. Maybe I can make his death painful..." The darkness in him was making itself known, before he managed to calm himself down. "When do you want me to start?"

"Ah, ah, ah", Mizora cut him off, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, pet. For now, I will keep a close watch on your playmates and judge myself if they are ready to learn more about us. Being well-meaning only gets you so far. After all, how many well-meaning people did you meet in your travels and the moment I appeared, they all ran for the hills screaming? Or grabbed the pitchforks?" She chuckled darkly.

Even with the summoning circle limiting her movement, the way Mizora cubbed Wyll's cheek was intimate and familiar. It was a motion so natural, it felt like breathing. Even if indeed Mizora had started this ploy to tighten the leash on Wyll and keep her warlock close by her side, eventually the motherly mask she wore, had fused with her own skin, it felt less like a role and more like a second home somedays. She could see the relief in his face, the knowledge that even if he were to be damned to all the Nine Hells, he would always have her to fall back on.

"That's my puppy", Mizora whispered and the soft sincerity in her words made them sound all the sweeter, "Such a good boy. And of course, you can always count on me. I will take good care of you, no matter what."

She could feel Wyll's pride at the thought of gaining more power by taking his father's position as the Grand Duke. She could his heart leaping into his throat from his excitement and fear of his encroaching darkness. The fact that he could be valiant and kind to those he cared for, but wicked and frightening to those who dared to harm what was his seemed to be a razor's edge, on which her puppy was still unable to balance.

Mizora smiled and said soothingly: "Of course, you do not need a stature like your father. You are a living, breathing legend already. Even so, isn't the thought of a stature enticing?" Her tail wrapped around his and her eyes glittered as if she meant to hypnotise him. "You live on, not just in words, but in a stature of yourself, pointing with your rapier at a foe, curved horns polished to perfection. You look valiant and bold, chivalrous and brave. The perfect image of the fantasy, you always had since you were young. The Blade of Frontiers becomes immortalised in the songs and tales of the bards. And nobody has to know the black soul of the man called Wyll Ravenguard."

At his question, Mizora cast a minor illusion of himself when he had been much younger. When Wyll Ravenguard had signed his contract seven years ago, his upbringing as the son of a Grand Duke had shown more than it did nowadays. Dressed in an ostentatious, fine jacket of deep blue, almost black satin, decorated with sequins and pearls, he had looked thin and frail with a sleeker face, showing traces of baby fat on his cheeks and a body, which seemed ill-fit for his rich attire, swallowing him up. His eyes had both been healthy and some of the prettiest peepers, Mizora had ever seen. They had been filled with awe and fear, but also determination and courage.

Mizora mused: "I do not know the answer to that question, Wyll. Your former self might be fearful of the man, you are now, but I feel that fear would not have lasted long. You are much braver than you give yourself credit for, puppy. You are far more capable of handling an unexpected thread, coming your way."

Witnessing Wyll's rage over Gortasch was glorious and it got Mizora thinking. "Be a good puppy and stay put", she told the warlock, "I will be right back."

Hellfire surrounded her and her body turned into blood, sinking into the ground. Within a few seconds, a new ring of hellfire spawned and Mizora reshaped herself from the same boiling, bubbling blood on the floor. As she folded her wings on her back, Wyll saw a thick stack of strangely glowing papers under her arm.

Mizora explained: "This is the contract, Gortasch signed with my mistress Zariel. While I am no pact holder, I was still involved with working out the fine print and details." She smiled sweetly as she turned the pages over in her hands. "My mistress is fearsome in battle and cunning enough, but even she recognises I have the better finesse for pacts, my pet. Now let me check something."

Mizora skimmed through the pages at a neck-breaking pace. Her eyes were glowing an ominous red as she drank in the entire information of the pact. Midway through flipping through the pages, she suddenly stopped and jabbed a clawed finger at a paragraph. Mizora smirked, allowing Wyll a glimpse of the Cambion's fangs.

She raised a finger as she recited: "Clause Z, Section 15: The soul bearer's payment of choice for the delivered goods, shall be blood money. Said blood money shall be defined as Karlach Cliffgate. Section 16: Failure to deliver the blood money or for it to be kept in the soul binder's immediate vicinity shall elevate the soul bearer of all protections granted by the Fires of Avernus."

Mizora closed the contract and gave Wyll a wolfish, pleased grin. "Karlach is currently nowhere near my mistress' vicinity, therefore Gortasch is violating Section 16. Sure, Zariel is allowing Karlach to, currently, not be in Avernus, but Gortasch does not know that. Meaning I am free to void his protections against the devils of Avernus and their aids, meaning you. So what do you say, pupster? Do you want to bring down Gortasch for me? You were such a good pet, so consider this a treat."

[navegandoaciegas]

Broken Wings

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: You’re a small town girl with big city dreams, set on leaving Knockemstiff and its sheriff behind for good. Lee would do anything to make sure you stay with him.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, consensual sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of alcohol.

A/N: This is part 1. Part 2

I want to thank my baby @whateveriwant for your support, ily! I haven’t written anything in more than a month but it feels good to be back to it!!

Knockemstiff, 1957

The crisp air of the night hit your exposed legs when you swung them over the window sill, and a shiver ran down your spine as humidity seeped into your bones.

From your bedroom on the second floor, you could make out the shape of the Sheriff’s car hidden behind the line of trees near your father’s shed, and a bittersweet, faint smile spread on your painted lips. Fastening the clasp from the outside, you climbed down the drain pipes, savoring the thrill of it all one last time.

No more Knockestiff, sneaking out of your bedroom, shotgunning while he patrolled the streets, milkshakes and burgers propped on your things and Johnny Cash playing in the background, drowned by your giggles and his laughs. You wouldn’t get to call the sheriff yours anymore, and you would never spend another moment writhing in pleasure under his warm, soft body.

You loved Lee Bodecker in spite of everything he stood for, but not even the love of your life could keep you anchored to this town. Tomorrow you’d be far, far away, and God himself couldn’t stop you if he tried.

You’d promised your mother that you wouldn’t end up withering away with no chances and no future like she had. Like everyone who was touched by the curse of Knockemstiff did.

“Spread your wings and fly far, far away,” she’d hiccup between sobs each time you’d drag her limp body from the couch to her bed, the stench of alcohol and stale cigarettes oozing out of her skin, “my pretty little butterfly.”

Your mother would have sold her soul to the Devil to see you out of Knockemstiff.

A new beginning awaited you in New York. A job as a librarian, an apartment to share with one of your college girlfriends, a prospect, a future.

Hope, freedom, opportunities.

The pipe creaked under your weight, but you paid no mind to it. Moonshine would have knocked out cold anyone in the house by now.

Scurrying down the gravel road, you found Lee waiting for you, a smug smile on his clean shaven face and a brown paper bag in his arms.

“About damn time, dove. Been freezing my ass over here, waitin’ on ya.”

You flung yourself in his arms, knocking him back against the car’s hood, savoring the musky scent of his cologne one last time.

“Hello, Sheriff.”

His chest vibrated with a fond chuckle, and you looked up to him, trying to etch every line of his handsome face to your memory.

In another life, the adoration in his blue eyes would have changed your mind.

“Missed me?” he teased you, one arm snaking around your waist, holding you flush to his front. The other came up to your face, cradling your cheek in his palm.

You could feel his soft belly against you. His shirts fit tighter now than when you’d started dating, and his stomach was beginning to bulge over his belt buckle.

“More than you can imagine.” you sighed, offering him a weak smile.

Maybe he missed the melancholy in your voice, or maybe he’d made his peace with your mood swings long ago, because he didn’t comment on it, simply placing a soft kiss on your forehead and pushing you back, thrusting the bag in your arms.

“Let’s get inside dove. These streets ain’t gonna patrol ‘emselves.”

The inside of his car was always warm, and smelled like him.

He drove around while you fed him fries, and you talked until your mouths ran dry.

Guilt gripped your heart when he mentioned a future together.

You knew he’d picked a ring, voices spread fast in small towns. He wanted the white picket fence, a pretty housewife and kids.

You were selfish and cruel and revelled in his love and affection for months, knowing damn well you’d never give him what he desired most.

“You okay? You seem distracted.” he quipped, hand squeezing your thigh.

Your conscience screamed at you to talk to him, but your mouth stayed sealed. There were no words to make this easy on him, so you’d make it easier on yourself.

He’d hate you, at first, but he’d move on, find some other nice girl and settle down with her.

She’d be pretty, and good to him, and she’d love him for the rest of her days.

“I’m okay, you know me. My head’s always up ‘n the clouds. College,” you deepened your voice, mocking your father’s words, “makes ‘m kids airheads.”

His eyes crinkled when he laughed. You’d miss the sound.

“I know, my little dove’s always flying higher than the rest of this shitty town.”

It was bitter, really, that the one you loved the most was what kept you chained to the ground, where you didn’t belong.

You were meant for the sky, his little dove, your mother’s butterfly.

Spread your wings, you reminded yourself, and fly far, far away.

-

You swore time flew by faster when you spent it with Lee, and minutes melted into hours, slipping through your fingers.

You wished you had more.

When he pulled over to an all too familiar clearing in the woods, your body acted on its own accord, and you climbed in the back seat like you’d done most nights for months.

Those trees had seen you in all states of undress, fucked in the car or on the hood, on your knees, on your back, on your stomach, with his cock down your throat or in your cunt, his face between your legs or on the crook of your neck.

Everything made you melancholic, everything reminded you about what you were about to give up.

It was selfish, but you’d allow yourself to forget all about the future for the moment being.

Just you and Lee, just a moment longer before reality would inevitably hit you like a bucket of iced water.

You and the love of your life that you’d betray once morning came.

But in the dark, underneath the stars and the moon, he was still yours, and you were his.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful baby, God, I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.”

You ignored the guilt once again, and straddled his lap. Grabbing him by his tie, you slanted your mouth against his. He parted his lips with a sigh, resting his back against the seat.

“Fuck, dove, you’re so good to me.” he mumbled, calloused hands roaming over your body.

A moan escaped your lips when his strained cock rubbed against your flimsy undergarments, and you arched your back, seeking more friction to soothe your aching core.

Warmth pooled in your lower belly, and slick gathered in your panties.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and pulled him impossibly close to feel everything, his warmth and his scent, his soft body and his rough hands.

Teeth clattering, bruising touches, heaving chests. The windows were getting fogged up by your hot breaths, and the metal creaked and clattered under your weights.

Desperation and arousal clouded your mind, and you looked at him through half lidded eyes, hoping he couldn’t read into your soul.

“Lee, baby, I need to feel you, I need you inside me,” you whined, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging on his belt impatiently.

You were desperate to feel his cock inside you, to have his hands leave bruises and his mouth leave marks on your skin one last time. Be his, be one in the flesh, one last time.

“So eager, you’d think I was Paul Newman or somethin’,” he chuckled, kneading the flesh of your ass.

“Much better than Newman, Brando or whatever they worship in Hollywood now.” you panted through sloppy kisses, hand dipping inside his briefs, his weight heavy and hot against your palm.

He hissed through his teeth, eyes rolling to the back of his brain. “What are you butterin’ me up for, dove?”

A beautiful moan escaped his lips when you doubled your efforts, wrist twisting around the velvety skin of his shaft, working his sensitive tip.

“I don’t need flattery to get me anythin’ baby, just these hands and lips.”

You popped your lips to emphasize your point, and let your tongue run along his bottom lip, taking it between yours and sucking on it.

He lifted your shirt with a swift motion, and the growl that he let out when he didn’t find any bra sent a thrill through you, straight to your throbbing core.

He groped your tits, squeezing until the line between pleasure and pain became too blurred to distinguish. You gasped when he rolled and pinched your nipples between his fingers, and mewled when his mouth closed down on one of them.

His tongue swirled around the stiff bud, teeth barely grazing the delicate skin.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath against your neck, and in a blur you found yourself laying on your back, his body caging you in.

“Don’t forget about this pussy, baby, I’d do anything for it.”

Your giggles turned to cries once his hand found its way between your legs, his name falling from your lips like a prayer while he caressed the hair on your mound.

He beamed proudly, feeling the wet patch on your undergarments, and dipped in your folds, spreading the slick around your entrance, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

His lips tasted like candy and strawberry milkshake, and you savored them as long as you could while your tongue intertwined with his.

You laughed when he knocked his head on the door, and then his knees on the floorboard.

“Can’t wait till we have a bed.” He groaned, already breathless while he fumbled with his pants, shoving them down his legs in a hurry.

Sadness filled you again, because one day he’d have a big, comfortable bed, but you wouldn’t be the one warming it.

You blinked away the tears as you clung to his shoulders.

When he breached your entrance, you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

You’d never gotten used to the stretch of his girth, and you wondered if anyone else would ever feel this right inside you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips stilling once he’s sheathed himself inside you, “God, you’re so tight.”

You felt like you were bursting at the seams, your walls quivering around his cock.

He rolled his hips tentatively, observing your face for any signs of pain, and started pounding inside you once he’d found none.

The burn soon turned into a pleasant ache.

“I’m a lucky bastard,” he snarled, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself, dove.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and didn’t notice how your lips quivered, or the tears that streamed down your face. He kept thrusting inside you, moaning each time he would feel your walls gripping his cock tightly.

Damp skin slid over yours, filling the car with the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your ass, and his belly smacking against yours.

“I’m gonna put so many babies inside you, I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my child. Fuck-, I can’t wait to come home to you everyday, my pretty little wife.”

You let yourself revel in the image. A pleasant, safe one. One that didn’t belong to you, but that warmed your heart anyways.

When the pressure in your core became too much for you to bear, you began blabbering and begging him to give you that release only he had ever given you.

“Please Lee, I need to- need to cum, baby.”

You choked on your words and shrieked when his hand dipped between your bodies, and he began rubbing circles around your clit.

“Cum for me, dove, cum all over my cock, wanna feel you fall apart on me baby.” he growled, hips stuttering.

He swallowed your cries with a kiss as you came undone. Your whole body trembled when hot waves of pleasure shook your limbs, the tight coil in your cunt unravelling all at once, releasing the pressure inside you.

You throbbed and gushed around his cock, arching your back and digging your nails in the flesh of his back.

He kept pounding inside you, riding your aftermath and praising his good girl through shuddering breaths.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whined, and you felt his movements become errantic and his cock swell inside you.

“Finish up outside,” you managed to wheeze out.

He grunted, but obeyed regardless.

Knocking you up before he got a preacher’s blessing wouldn’t look good on his resume if he was to ever be mayor. Otherwise you’d have had a child on your hip already, you suspected.

You winced when he pulled out, and stood on his shins, hovering over you, brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You brought your hand down to his cock, and you stoked him once, twice, running your thumb over his slit before his hips stuttered and he painted your stomach with his white, warm load.

He collapsed next to you, holding you tight in his arms and catching his breath.

“You’re gonna be all mine soon, dove,” he whispered in your ear, rubbing his nose against yours, “and I’m gonna fill your pussy up every night, I swear. No more pulling out ever again.”

-

Freedom tasted bittersweet.

Corn fields gave way to tarmac too soon, and before you realized it, you’d left Knockemstiff and your old life behind, in hope of a new, better one

You rested against the window, your head rattling on the screen with each bump on the road. The stench of stale cigarettes, moonshine breath first thing in the morning and sweat filled the packed bus, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

The prospect of your future terrified you and thrilled you to no end.

You observed the cars speeding past the bus, and the streams of dried tears on your face in your reflection. Your mind swirled with thoughts, the images of Lee torturing you. Sighing to yourself, you clutched the handkerchief that the woman besides you had gently offered with a kind, knowing smile on her face.

Better forget all about him as soon as possible.

New beginnings were hard, but hope blossomed in your chest with each mile that went by. Besides, your mother’s smile when she’d waved you goodbye had given you all the strength you needed.

You let the gentle sway of the bus lull you to sleep.

She’d never looked so happy and beautiful, bathed in dawn’s warmth with her Sunday dress she’d worn to see her biggest wish come true.

Her butterfly had finally spread her wings.

-

Part 2 (hopefully coming out tomorrow)

-

So what do you think is going to happen in the next chapter? 🤭

I hope you liked it! I haven’t written in so long, but I hope it’s good. Please leave some feedback if you can, and reblog!

[alreadyblondenow]

Bad boys bring Heaven to you | Mark Lee

▸ Mark Lee x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, demon au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 4/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers​

Summary: He was your guardian angel and your dark desires changed him for the creature that he is now. He gave you a baby so he can make sure that you’re going to be together forever,  but you don’t want to keep it.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Rough sex, vanilla sex, a lot of sex will happen I’m telling you, overstimulation, pregnancy, filthy, minor/major(?) character killings, major character death, possessive behaviour, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex hence the pregnancy, mention of abortion, hospital scenes,  

A/N: FILTH. But I lessen the smut scenes (just a bit hehe)  Words in Italics are Mark’s thoughts.

Taglist: (if I happen to forgot you, I’m sorry! But these names are on my list. Thank you!) @huangxx @floweringtheflowers @minejungwoo @swimmingkpopblog @luvlyjaemin @capablemork8299 @jaehyunoos @neospirited @shanghai-lu @jenotation @strawberrytyong @lilminyoongles @cottonmyeonbby @neosaniuniverse @simp4mk @jaejaenim @junglewoos​ @sunshineleedonghyuck​ 

I used to be your guardian angel, but being a demon is the only way that I can be with you.

Guard and protect. Those are the only things that I should be doing as I stay by your side until your dying breath. Guard your heart so you could make the right decisions in life and help you with your choices. Protect you from all kinds of harm so you can live a long happy life until your time finally comes.

You just turned ten years old when you were assigned to me, I just turned thirteen at that time. I even sang you a happy birthday together with the others during your celebration. I was beside you when you blew the candle and listened to your wish. From there on it’s always been you and me, we pretty much grew up together.

I guide you with your decisions every day, protect you inside and outside your home, and listen to your prayers. Oh, I love to listen to your voice whenever you pray. It calms me and your prayers are good proof that I’m doing a great job as your guardian angel.

But as we grow up, you started making impulsive decisions that I don’t have control with. You changed during your teenage years, you no longer pray and let me hear the sound of your prayers anymore. I’m afraid you will no longer need me and that they will assign me to a new human after a few years.

When you were seventeen, you almost lost your virginity to someone who’s not worthy. I’m sorry but I have to meddle with that so I stopped it and gave the guy a piercing headache. I feel sorry for what I’ve done, truly. But he doesn’t deserve you.

I feel bad about what I did so I seek guidance from my senior angel, Doyoung. I told him everything that I felt the moment I saw the guy enter your room and watch him kiss you and put his hands around your body. I told Doyoung that for the first time, I hated your smile because you like what the guy is doing to you.

Do you know what Doyoung told me? He said that I’m starting to be unholy and have feelings for you.  

And it’s true. I’m starting to be more and more ungodly as I continue to watch you touch yourself every night with your fingers inside you, and instead of prayers, I hear moans from you every night. You started to have perverted desires which I can’t help you with because I’m an angel. I’m completely aware that I’m failing with my mission and scared to face my senior angels and keep me away from you.

If I lose you, I will be meaningless.

I sold my soul to the devil so I can be with you and follow you to a path full of desires.

It’s still the same. I’m still me but my job has no rules now and I can do whatever that pleases me to keep you in my life. Over the years of being a demon, I watch you now in a very different way. I watch you shower and get dressed, I watch you touch yourself with legs wide open as I masturbate beside you, I possessed every guy you have sex with and we always have a great time.

But I want more than this.

For many years, you’ve already mastered the art of living alone and you are your own companion. Alone in the morning, alone at night. It is a lonely and tiring life, but still, you find comfort in being just with yourself.  

Eating dinner alone in a fast food restaurant near your apartment has been your daily routine since the day you’ve landed the job of being a real estate agent away from home. Selling houses left and right, having the luxury and time to flirt and enjoy one night stands, earning buckets and buckets of money, but still, you feel alone and incomplete.

As you were just about to start to dig in, your phone rang, it was your boss calling about 127 House. The haunted house that’s been unoccupied for almost three years now and has been threatened to be taken down tomorrow and it’s part of your job to save it.

“Someone is finally interested, were going to meet him at the office tomorrow. My assistant says it’s an anonymous buyer and we just have to wait for tomorrow to talk things out” he explains excitedly. The sound of his voice was a little loud on the phone.  

“This is great news” you answered calmly, “I love that house thankfully were saving it. Have your assistant send me the details for tomorrow- Yeah, thank you!”

One of the many good things that you love about your job, is the happiness that comes with it when a house can be a home after being empty and cold for years. Haunted or not, just like a normal house, the 127 House deserves to be a home for a family.  

After having dinner alone, you quickly reviewed some of the contracts for the anonymous client for tomorrow, reviewing your presentation one last time and finally letting out a big sigh, patting yourself on the shoulder, telling yourself ‘good job.’ It would be so great if someone can really say it in front of your face and actually getting a pat on the shoulder.

Thankful nonetheless because finally you have time for yourself and reward yourself with a nice shower. But even during your shower, you were spaced out and you kept thinking how it’s actually a miracle that the 127 House got a buyer a day before it’s going to be taken down. The house was beautiful, haunted but beautiful. It would be such a waste if it wasn’t given a second chance.

“Oh fuck” you cursed when you realized you put too much soap on your body. As you were busy rinsing all the soap from your body, down to your legs until your toes, when you felt something touch your wet hair, and you turned around to see if something fell off from your rack but there's nothing, weird. You shrugged it off and continue rinsing your soapy skin, and finally putting shampoo on your hair. You close your eyes and massage your scalp, you love how the hot water feels against your skin and how it calms your nerves. Then again, you felt something touch your skin. But this time it ran up and down your slit and you’re sure it's not the hot water.

Quickly you ended your peaceful shower, reached for your towel, and prepare yourself for bed. Maybe it was hot water after all and you were just being paranoid and tired from work. The comfort your bed provides felt even more relaxing as you entertain yourself and scroll through Twitter for a moment, reading updates and seeing different trends then an interesting small clip of porn catches your attention. You watch it like a hawk and allow yourself to be aroused and turned on. Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt, and proceed to touch yourself freely.

Sucking your point and middle finger, you played with your slit with your wet fingers running it up and down until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside, you shamelessly spread your legs wider lifting your shirt so you could pinch your nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. You live alone. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes again and continue touching yourself. “Ohhh baby” you moan and feed your imagination that someone is making you feel good right now. You part your mouth and let out soft moans, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“Open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt something pinched your right nipple. You opened your eyes and stopped what you’re doing because the creepy things that are happening tonight are getting out of hand. You see a shadow of someone seated right beside you and you quickly grabbed anything you could cover your legs with for you feel so exposed in front of a stranger who could be a rapist.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?”

You open your lampshade with a slight panic and you see lustful eyes looking deep into yours. Whoever this person is, he looked angelic but what he’s doing right now says otherwise. “We can talk after we fuck. Can you remove your shirt?” his surprisingly sexy voice made you gave in and followed what he asked for. “Don’t be scared, alright?” he added.

With nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to remove your shirt and make yourself naked in front of the handsome stranger. Suddenly, he’s right beside you, naked and arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already. Is this a dream? This has to be.

“I’m Mark. How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” he asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary man is growing and growing and it’s making you hornier. He’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until he's gone and you can finally rest.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kissed your neck wildly holding your shoulders as he kisses you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” his kisses were addicting and it’s making you weak like he’s sucking all your energy. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer him, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds.

“A man from my dream?” you answered weakly.

“Correct. And I’m a demon” the last word made you shiver and you tried to push him away, even tried kicking him but it’s useless. “What’s wrong? You weren’t like this when you were moaning just a few minutes ago” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. This isn’t right. To your surprise, he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” you closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy, teasing your cunt from behind and licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.  

The position Mark put you in, made you even more harder to breathe and you can’t move for your own liking. You feel him push his cock without caution, fucking you with closed legs as he loses his mind with how good you feel around him. You, on the other hand, is a moaning mess. Gasping and breathing much air for your life as you let the demon fuck you quick and rough. Mark put his entire weight on your back, resting his left cheek on your face, thrusting in your tight cunt as you whimper and grunt under him.

“Oh baby, does it hurt?” he felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Shhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. The handsome demon continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs for him just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Unconsciously, you arched your back for him now making the demon happy and smirk as he pounds you from behind, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

He cupped your boobs from behind with both hands, still fucking you good but even deeper this time. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out and beg but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

When he finally stopped the good torture, you thought that was it, but you’re wrong. He stopped for a second and made you kneel against his chest and put his middle and point finger in your mouth and coat it with your spit, “tell me Y/n, do you want a baby? boy or a girl?” he removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply as you try your best to answer. His fingers are making you weak that you’re legs are already giving up, you just want to lay flat on the mattress. He put the same fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juices.

“Great choice. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him not because you want it, but you just want to satisfy the demon and feel him pound against you deliciously again. He can’t actually plant a baby inside you, right? This is a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face hoping that he has even a small ounce of mercy for you. Being underneath him like this made you realized that he is even more handsome up close, you bravely touched the soft skin of his face wondering how can someone or something looked so angelic on the outside but demonic on the inside.  

As you admire the beauty of the demon on top of you, he made himself comfortable in between your legs kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to line his cock in your entrance, pushing in slowly and gently as you requested for the first time tonight. Giving you a few slow and gently thrusts, you moaned and smiled whiled he let you enjoy your request. You may not know, but the demon is admiring your smile, so he kissed those soft lips of yours once again. “Now, can I rough you up a little?” he sure has no patience. You have no other choice when he puts your arms around him, “I’ll let you touch me”  

Thrusting hard again in no time, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and asked for more this time. “Can I kiss you?” you asked with ragged breaths, he answered your question with a kiss, as if he’s letting you know that you can kiss him whenever you want to, in exchange for fucking you hard.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moans like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now.

“Will I see you again? Tell me I’ll see you again” you whine under heavy breathing.

Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, “you will, you will” he answers you. It’s like he has a switch or an off button for his rough attitude because he’s suddenly sweet. “It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm.” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

 I left Heaven for you and gladly I will leave Hell too.

I am a selfish demon.

My intention for you is to love you deeply every day for as long as I exist. You may not hear me tell you ‘i love you’ but my actions are good and enough proof that my love for you is real and I want to show more.

I no longer want to possess another human just so I can talk to you or have sex with you. I no longer want to meet you secretly in your dreams and remain as your imaginary man. I want to wake up beside you and see your smile first thing in the morning, to be able to exist and be part of your life completely, walk on the streets hand in hand and live a full life with you.

It’s too much to ask, I know. But it’s not a bad thing.

As I watch you grow as an adult, you became more and more lonely, incomplete, and unsatisfied with the things you have in your life. I can make you happy I’m sure of it.

And giving you a baby is something that can make you need me or can make you want me to stay and be part of your life. I’m sorry.

But I’m a selfish demon and all I wanted is to be with you.

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a disturbingly nice dream. Another call from your boss about 127 House, today is the day that the house will finally be saved. As you stretch your body in bed, it’s weird how you feel so sore and tired when you perfectly remember sleeping early last night and had the weirdest dream in your life. The sex from the dream played like a movie picture in your head, the handsome face of the demon is engraved in your mind, “Mark” you whispered as you remember his name and how he kissed you oh so sweetly while he was telling you that you’re going to be great parents.

Knowing that it’s just a dream, you shrugged it off and started your day with a nice coffee and light breakfast, reviewing your presentation on the side for later, making sure that everything you say about the house will not make the buyer turn their back.

Another day at the office is another annoying day with your boss, which is also your ex boyfriend. Yuta is a good proof that you don’t know how to be with someone else other than yourself because you’re used to being alone that you don’t let other people inside your life. And yet, you feel lonely and you still want to try. Yuta is a great guy, but the problem is not him, it’s you.

“Well you look beautiful… and glowing” he greets you with his perfect smile before you two enter the empty and cold conference room. He recognizes that glow, and it hurts his pride that you’re fucking somebody else and not him. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not together anymore, he still thinks he owns you.

You smiled back at him and proceed to prepare your things before the client comes in. It’s obvious that something is bothering Yuta, you wanted to ask him but you’re afraid to give him the wrong idea about you being concerned. So you focused your mind elsewhere and did not mind him further.

“Ah! Mr. Lee, welcome. Please take a seat. May I introduce you to one of my finest realtor, Ms. Y/n. Leave everything to her”

The client is facing Yuta and all you can see is his handsome figure from behind, nice ass, you thought. You put up a smile and ready yourself to shake hands with the client that will save the 127 House. “Hi Mr. Lee-“

It was truly an unexpected moment. You will never forget that angelic face that you admired so much in your dream. You try to hide your uneasiness and remained professional as you shake hands with Mr. Lee and proceed with your presentation.

During your presentation, you can’t stop thinking of the man with the same face and angelic features as Mr. Lee, fucking you senseless in your dream. It was just a dream but as you dive in more to the memory, you can almost feel the wet kisses that he left on your neck, the way he hurt you so good stretching your cunt, and his amazing duality after the sex. “…and that is all for 127 House, which will all be yours after we schedule you for a private tour so can see for yourself-“

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you like this house?”

“It’s one of our best, of course, sir-“

“No. I mean. Do you see yourself smiling and completely happy if you happen to own the 127 House?”

It’s a question that you can’t answer on the spot but come to think of it, yes, having a family with a big house to call it home isn’t such a bad choice in life. But for now, having a family is not on your cards clearly because you’re single at the moment and you’re not ready to have a family of your own. To answer your client’s question, “Yes, sir. I think the 127 House will change my life upside down, in and out if I happen to own it. My future children will have such beautiful home” you smiled awkwardly at him, hoping that your answer finally satisfies him.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” he says with a teasing tone that you don’t know what it’s for. You were sure that he’s smirking at you while Yuta explains the contract to Mr. Lee’s assistant and you were sure, that he has something to do with your dream. This can’t be.

As Yuta finishes the meeting with a light note and had his secretary help Mr. Lee with the contract and money talk, you can’t help but think about your future. A husband, your own house, having kids, all those things were floating in your mind. “If you wanted the house you could’ve just told me” Yuta’s voice brought you back to reality. The conference room was again empty and it’s you and Yuta were all that’s left.

“What are you talking about” you fixed your things and try to avoid Yuta’s presence.

“We could’ve been married and have kids you know,” he came close to you like he’s just about to kiss you.

“And I broke up with you for a reason, that I don’t love you anymore. Stop hurting yourself Yu, were fine now don’t ruin this” hearing that made Yuta remember the night you broke up with him. Still hurt like hell he thought.

You left him in the conference room and went back to work, went on with your usual day at the office. Busying yourself further and finishing loads of tasks before you head home. But despite your busy day, you kept on thinking about Mr. Lee over and over again, and that demon in your dream who had sex with you and told you about being great parents. Something is connecting the demon and Mr. Lee but you can’t point out what exactly.

As much as you want to deny the clues and just move forward with your life, your gut tells you that they’re the same person and there’s only one way to find out, ask the demon. But he never showed up again which leads you to your second option, contact Mr. Lee or his assistant. And as expected, they’re out of reach. It’s absurd, time wasting, and scary, but you would rather be scared of the truth than not knowing anything at all.

Night after night, you hopelessly wait for the handsome demon to visit you again. Secretly hoping that he will show up in your dream, even just for a minute no more no less, even if it’s just for sex, you just need to talk to him.

Work piles up and you continue to busy yourself selling houses, closing deals every week, watching couples be happy because they finally have a home, hoping that someday that could be you so you won’t get lonely in life. But with whom?

“You look awful, are you okay?” that’s what Yuta said instead of greeting you good morning and flirt with you like he normally does.

“Yeah. I feel like shit, but I’m fine. Maybe overworked, but I’m fine” it’s true, you don’t usually get sick because of overworking but this is different. You feel weak and tired even if you got enough sleep. Heck, even if you’re not working you’re still tired and dizzy. “So I was thinking some of the major points for the campaign-“

You didn’t finish your sentence and left Yuta in your office and ran to the nearest restroom to throw up. It was not hungover, that part you’re sure, you don’t get sick like whenever you’re tired from work. It doesn't make any sense. Then you realized, “fuck, I’m late” and there's only one person or creature to blame. Mark, the demon.

Hot tears fall from your eyes as you flush the toilet, wipe your mouth, and gather your strength to come out of the cubicle. To your surprise, Yuta was just outside the lady's restroom, waiting for you and making sure that you’re okay. He has his own thoughts and if he’s being completely honest, he’s disgusted. How can you be so stupid? Getting yourself knocked up before you even get married?

“Who’s the father?” he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and already judging you.

“Please Yuta not now” the last thing you need right now is your ex being unreasonable.

“Are you going to keep it? I’m willing to pay for the abortion, I know you’re not yet ready” that’s it. That made you snap. Yuta is a nice person, but sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he constantly forgets his role in your life.

“How dare you. I’m speechless Yuta. You don’t want this baby not because of the reason that I’m not ready but for your selfish reasons, which I’m not interested. You’re my boss, can I leave early?”

Of course, Yuta didn’t take it well. His pride was hurt, the baby is like an ending note for the both of you. The meaningless conversation with Yuta lasted for almost half an hour, it’s like a never ending loophole whenever you talk to him about personal issues and you hate it. With or without Yuta’s permission, you went home and take care of yourself. The pregnancy test made it official and once again, you feel lost and lonely more than ever. How can the demon do this to you? Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re just a one time thing for him.

Hoping that everything will be fine once you’re all well rested, you decided to sleep it off and try to fix and handle things when you wake up. The moment you closed your eyes, you feel wet kisses all over your exposed shoulders. You even felt the bed dip as if someone joined you to bed and shared their warmth.

“Baby I’m here” Mark whispers, trying to wake you up. It may not feel like it, but you were sleeping for two hours already. “You’re not just a one time thing for me" he added.

His hot breath woke you up, and finally seeing the handsome demon again unexpectedly made you feel better and welcomed him with a warm hug. Even Mark was shocked but he accepts your hug and returned to you even more warmly. His skin is hot, or maybe that’s just his warmth. He smelled like cinnamon, hot afternoons, did he just came from hell and went straight to your apartment?  

“I didn’t show up for days because I wanted to make sure you wanted to see me” he disturbed your thoughts. Putting your hair away from your face and leaving light feathery kisses on your lips.

“Mark, I’m pregnant” you finally blurted out. Curious about what he’s going to react.

“And?” he was avoiding eye contact not because he’s shy, but because he can’t believe he can admire you closely like this and you finally know he exists. “Can we fuck first then talk later?”

You still have a lot of questions for him but he never gave you answers and it frustrates you. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw each other and he’s thinking about fucking right now. Unbelievable. “Not having sex with you until you tell me answers,” you said as gentle as possible, not wanting the demon to leave you empty handed again.

He just chuckled. Well, at least he’s not leaving yet because he’s starting to spread kisses all over your exposed skin. Feeling those incredible lips again makes you even more relaxed, his hands all around your sides roaming softly. You can’t believe you’re finally letting him in without boundaries.

“Show me your tits,” he said, lifting your thin shirt so easily.

“If I showed you my tits will you stop and finally have a decent conversation with me?”

“If you showed me your tits, baby I wont' stop. I’m here to remind you that you’re mine” he said heavily breathing from the hungry kiss biting your ears, your neck, and your lips. You pushed him away for a moment but it was a gentle push. You didn’t want to piss him off.

His hands are ready to push your bra down, he’s just waiting for you to let go and stop being a bitch. You figured you got nothing to lose so you grabbed his face and kissed him like how you missed him. Putting his hands on your boobs, guiding his hands to push down your bra and show him your tits. “That’s my girl,” he said in between kisses, feeling his warm smile before he pulls away and finally looks at your tits. “Mine,” he said, before licking a long stripe from your left nipple up to your chest, neck, and ends on your lips. Kissing you passionately before he does it again with your right boob. “Lift your chest” you followed what he said and you felt him unclasp your bra swiftly, It was a sign to remove your shirt and help him undress you.

Both naked in bed kissing like a loving couple, Mark decided to go a little easy on you tonight. After all, roughing you up is not part of his plan and purpose of his visit. He goes on top of you, lips still not leaving yours. “Did you miss me?” he asks, you can only answer using your hungry kisses. You feel his hand travel up and down your body oh so softly you’re starting to get ticklish that your lips parts because of his soft touches, he puts your panties in your mouth and your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m going to go easy on you tonight, don’t worry” he says. Mark looks handsomely scary and filthy right now in between your open legs licking your boobs and brushing his hand on your nipples making you sensitive. He reaches for your hand to suck your fingers good while looking directly in your eyes. You rolled your head back on your fluffy pillows, moaning and whimpering, letting your ruined panties in your mouth muffle the sounds that you’re making. If this was his idea of going easy then you’re fucked.

Mark let’s go of your left hand so he can touch your pussy while kissing your lower abdomen. Your hips roll uncontrollably and Mark likes the sounds that you’re making. He kneels in front of you and grabbed your free hand to pump his cock, play with its tip before he goes in. He lines his cock to your entrance and pushed in one hard thrust. Since your mouth is occupied, you can only hear Mark’s grunts while fucking you hard in the first few thrusts. It was too much, you were in tears. Sobbing and whimpering from the hurt. He noticed it. He removed your panties from your mouth crashing his lips to yours the moment he threw your wet panties away. “That was hot right?” He continues to kiss you wildly while giving you merciless thrusts. You try to breathe and catch your breath but he won't let you, “Mark, please” you call him out weakly.

“No, baby. You’re doing perfect don’t disappoint me” he kissed and kissed you until both of your lips are swollen. Thrust and thrust in your pussy until your boobs bounce nonstop and you’re on edge. The moment you reached your orgasm, Mark kissed you softly but he never stopped fucking you. You smiled at him, reaching for his face for another sweet kiss, helping him catch his sweet release.

He gave you three piercing thrusts that hurt so bad but felt so good before he pulls out and came on your pussy lips. Spreading white thick fluids all over your folds, and going in for the last time for his own satisfaction and pullout again quickly. It was a quick stretch that hurt but it was bearable.

He lay down beside you, spooning you and kissing your shoulders. Running a finger on your nipples as you both calm down and enjoy your fluffy bed and soft pillows. “As always you did good” he cuddles with you in bed, something you didn’t see coming. Even though he’s all scary and rude he’s capable of being sweet and you love it.

“How about that talk you owe me?” you kissed his neck as a way of returning the favor for making you feel good.

“Let’s go on a date. I want to do this right, it’s never my intention to scare you”

“You’re naturally scary, you don’t know that?” he smiles and made his one arm as his pillow so he can look at you properly.

“I’ll stop the baby from growing. For now. One date Y/n, and if you still hate me it’s over between us. The baby… the baby is my only way so I can stay with you forever”  

Weird. The idea of Mark leaving you doesn’t sound so good. And to be honest you want to spend more time with him. He nuzzles your armpit making you laugh and giggle and at the same time. He’s cute when he's in the good mood.

“You could have asked me to go on a date first before you knocked me up,” you kissed his cheek and watch him roll his eye at you. Handsome. So handsome you thought.

“No. Having a baby will be our priority. Please, let's be happy. I can change your life”

Unfortunately, as you listen to the handsome demon confess his feelings for you, you suddenly thought about Yuta. Your ex wanted the exact same thing and things didn’t go well between you two. There’s something different about Mark that makes you want to try and work this family thing out with him. Even if he’s a demon if he can love you unconditionally, well having a family with him isn’t so bad.

But still, you need time. And getting you pregnant first before building an established relationship is too much.

I knew you will not take it easily, and it's fine by me I have all the patience in the world.

I'm selfish but I can’t force you to love me and your love, that’s what I want. That’s why I have to win you. Even if going on dates isn’t my best way to make you fall in love with me, it’s the right thing to do.

Yes, I can force you to stay in my house with that baby, but being together without love…well, what’s the point of it?

Now, I’m sorry for getting you pregnant first. I’m desperate. I long for you. You’re like a dream that I’m willing to do everything just so you can come true.  

The most awaited dinner was full of flirting, low giggles, and honest talk. You insist on knowing him more and you’re more than happy to introduce yourself but he seems like he knew you all too well. “There’s nothing much to know about me” he takes a bite from his steak, “But let me be honest and I hope I won't scare you… I used to be your guardian angel…”

You listen to the whole story of the truth on how he used to be your guardian angel and became a demon because you embraced such pleasures in life. He told you how he fell in love with you even more when he became dark, he said that it felt good that there's nothing holding him back. “Believe it or not, I was your first. I couldn’t stomach watching you have sex with anyone else other than me” he explained further how he possessed every guy you had sex with and you find it amusing how he’s completely possessive when it comes to you.

“So Yuta?”

“Oh no no, not him. He has his own demon I can’t possess him. And that was my breaking point. When you two were together, I was broken, I feel abandoned and I secretly hope that you two break up, then it happened and I have nothing to do with it I promise. So now I’m here, taking my chance”

You question him further about your life, asking him about the things you only knew about yourself, things that only your family can answer, and not even your closest friends. Not because you doubt his honesty, but only because it's amusing to listen to him. All this time you weren’t alone. All these years of believing that you’re alone, little did you know you have Mark. The things that he’s telling you does not make you feel weird, it’s like you’re talking to a long lost friend who knew everything about you.

It’s amazing how he’s a demon but his honesty amazes you as he’s not capable of lying. Maybe he has something left from being an angel? Nonetheless, you see nothing wrong with giving him a chance to give you happiness. “Still you could have been honest first and take me on a date before you- you know”

“No, I need you to need me. That’s the only way. I’m here on a date with you because I can’t win you by playing tough, maybe I can win you by playing nice. So please stop hating me about the baby. I really want it with you” he reached for your hand on the table and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t hate you, Mark in fact I like you, I really do but the baby is too much. We can still try and be in a relationship without having a baby”

“Just give us a chance” he winked at you and continue eating his steak.  

As you two continue the wonderful dinner and setting aside the baby talk for the rest of the night, he filled your heart with wonderful promises that you’re looking forward to seeing him do. And while he was talking, you noticed how your heart skip a beat when he raises his eyebrows and smirk. Handsome demon, that’s what he is.

During the car ride which you don’t know where he’s taking you, he never let go of your hand, kissing the back of it whenever he can and making you giggle with his spontaneous sweetness. “Where are you taking me? I thought you’re going to drive me home”

“I am. Were going home” You turned silent when you saw the beautiful white house from afar. He brought you to 127 House. “I bought this house because you were desperate to sell it. Also, that’s why I asked you if you see yourself being happy owning the house” he added and kissed your hand again.

The house is even more beautiful at night, Mark let you admire the house as he follows you and watch you with full admiration. You love what he did to the house, rather than a mansion with a plain interior he made it look like it’s ready to be a home for a family. What you see is not a demon who manipulated you, Mark is a desperate man who’s willing to try to make you happy and who’s desperate to have a family of his own with the woman that he loves. You.

“Welcome home?” he says.

“It’s too early for that Mark, I like you but how can you be so sure about this?” his confidence amuse you.

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows on you, caging you with a warm embrace from behind as you two watch the calm water on the pool outside. “You sound like I haven’t fucked you already. I’m confident about this. Welcome home” he repeats and planted a kiss on your temple. A simple gesture that makes you happy.

As you two enjoy the comfortable silence while swaying side to side for some time, you feel his hot breath tickling the back of your neck, giving you a shiver that goes straight to your spine. You’re familiar with Mark’s presence already. A presence you always crave, something you always want near you. “What do you want to do next, beautiful?” he asks, kissing your neck and making your knees weak.

“Can we have normal sex? Without you fucking me in my dreams? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. From now on, no more having sex in your dreams and no more possessing other humans. It’s just me now” he reaches for your lips, turning your body so you could kiss properly. You feel safe in his arms, which made you realize that he has done so much for you.

“Maybe it’s time for me to give back, Mark” he smiled, motioning you on his huge couch.

“What do you have in mind?” he removes your shoes and made you sit on his lap.

“I can start by,” you kiss him slowly on his neck, cup his face but he’s quick to kiss your hand softly, “I can start by being on top tonight, let me make you cum for as many as you want?” he chuckled low and nod his head. He sat there looking devilishly handsome, letting you do what you want as he watches you with lustful eyes.

I never thought that the date will work out and quite frankly, I’m thankful for our date. It’s the first night that I felt that I could actually be part of your life. For the first time, I feel like I’m a man and not just a fallen angel or a demon.

The way you kissed on my neck, when you smile whenever our eyes meet, how you touched me and kissed my body, the feeling of your fingertips dancing around my skin. It’s addictive. It almost felt like our first time having sex. The night I took your virginity, I couldn’t have enough of you that I keep on asking for another round if you remember.

And oh! When you held my hand while you roll your hips slowly, It was life changing Y/n.

Thank you for giving me a chance to prove my love further to you.

After having a few rounds on the couch and his huge bed, Mark is now watching you sleep beside him. Caressing your face softly as he turns this moment into a special one because his dream of sleeping beside you with his whole being finally came true. “I’m so in love with you,” he says before drifting to sleep.  

Welcoming the demon in your life was the best decision you ever made even though the baby part is still blurry. Nonetheless, Mark made you feel loved every day in many different ways. May it be through his sweet words, making love to you instead of fucking hard, holding your hand while you two watch a scary movie, or whenever he sings to you after learning a new song. For a demon who came out of hell, he’s a little sweet and romantic.

He also adapted well to this world, even found out that his eyesight is poor and that you have to get him a pair of glasses. And as he stays in this world loving you, his love for watermelons and playing with his guitar grew stronger each day too.

Seasons change and years pass by like a snap of your finger, you and Mark stayed happily together in 127 House and make it a home, even if it’s just the two of you. He made you so happy in life that you forgot life before he came.  

“Where did you find that handsome guy?” your best friend asks you while she’s slicing her son’s birthday cake. You help her with the plates while you answer every question she throws.

“Dating app” you lied and laughed at her to shut her up.

“I know that’s a lie but I don’t care. That man makes you happier than ever. What is he an angel or something?” If only she knew.

You watch Mark play with other kids, tickling their tummies as he giggles with them. Being a father suits him well and you bet he still dreams of becoming one. You almost feel sorry about it because you can’t give the only thing he asks for.

When you got home and now that Mark is balls deep inside you while you ride him deliciously, your head is not there. You kept on thinking about something and of course, Mark is quick to stop doing what he’s doing. “Hey your mind is so noisy and clouded” he’s no complaining, he’s worried about you because he can hear you but can't understand you. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

You lean forward to him and rest your forehead on his chest, readying yourself to finally tell him that, “I want to have a baby”

For a moment it was dead silent while you two look each other eye to eye but soon he sat up and hug you, making you moan because he’s still deep inside you. He showered you with kisses, crying tears of joy because now his life is finally complete.

“I love you. And I’m sorry for keeping you away from being a great dad-“

“You did nothing wrong. Stop apologizing” he cups your face and kissed you deeply, pulling you back on the mattress to continue what you two were doing but this time it’s for a purpose.

During your pregnancy, you’ve never seen Mark so happy.

He was by your side like the guardian angel that he used to be. Taking care of you all the way from sun up to sun down. You’ve never thought that your pregnancy will be bearable, full of happiness and laughter because of a demon who fell in love with you.

Everything was going too fast, the next thing you know is you’re already seven months pregnant and Mark is staring at your tummy for almost five minutes as he waits for his baby to kick and your tummy move and be amazed over and over again. You’re starting to doubt if he’s really a demon. “Oh! See that! He kicked!” you laughed at him as he holds your tummy with both hands and spread kisses on it.  

Things were going smoothly until the day has finally come and you’re at the delivery room fighting for your life. Quite literally. The doctors are having a huge problem pulling your baby out of your belly and they needed Mark to get out of the room because the situation became serious. He was about to lose you and the doctors want him out, of course, Mark wants to cause a scene. But he knew better. The last memory you had before closing your eyes was the door closing on Mark as he can’t do anything about it. Through a glass window, Mark sees everything that the doctors are doing to you. He wanted so bad to hold your hand so you know that you still have to fight for your life and the baby’s life.

When the baby is finally out, he was so happy to see his baby for the first that he’s sobbing and whimpering. Murmuring even that you need to wake up because finally, the baby is here. The smile painted on Mark’s face was priceless. But not for long. He knew that there’s something wrong when the doctors were staring at the baby, waiting for it to cry. Mark’s world turned black when he watches the doctor shook his head in front of him.

It was life changing.

The once happy home for you and Mark became a place so cold and gloomy as if happiness never touched the 127 House. As you’re struggling with depression, Mark embraced his anger and caused chaos everywhere. Not giving a fuck what happens to anyone because nothing can compare to the sadness that he’s feeling. It all happened for a year, which changed your relationship into small talks and cold nights. Like you two have broken up but you still live under the same roof.

But the demon loves you so much that he tried everything to pick himself up and take care of you. Your relationship was too precious for him and realized that it’s the only thing he has left. Slowly, you forgive yourself and tried to live again. Patience keeps on growing as you and Mark chose to love each other deeper and move on with what’s left with your life.

After having several check-ups, taking every advice that the doctor says, and finding out that it’s safe for you to have a baby again, you and Mark gave it another chance without hesitating. Now, you’re six months pregnant and life is slowly becoming happy again.

“Long time no see” It’s his demon best friend, Haechan. He appeared out of nowhere while Mark is having some fresh air on the balcony. Mark waits for his friend to talk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just here to let you know that your Y/n has a new guardian angel since you’ve been so busy being a human”

“Fuck- No wonder our life is so messed up right now”

“Don’t let it kill your baby again” and just like that Haechan is gone before Mark could even ask him more about this guardian angel.

When you become a parent, your child will automatically be your prize possession. But for Mark, he has two people dear in his life. Two people. That’s all he has. And he’s not going let that angel kill his baby again and make you suffer.

Mark stick to you like glue, and you noticed that he has been even more protective than ever. “I’m going to be fine, Mark. What are you so afraid of?” you kiss him before you head to the bathroom to take a pee. This part of Mark that’s so paranoid is freaking you out and scaring you sometimes. Like he’s not telling you something or he’s hiding something from you.

Mark continues to protect you from that angel, and day by day he’s becoming even more afraid of what might happen to you. If that angel is capable of killing something precious, then who knows what else can it do to harm you further.

“Do you miss being an angel?” you asked Mark while you two lay in bed closely.

“No” he answers without hesitating.

“Do you have wings back then?”

He chuckled low and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We’ve been together for many years and you’re asking me this just now? But yes. I did. And it hurt like hell when they took it off. But I was happy afterward, it simply means I can finally be with you” his happiness is evident because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you apologized, but maybe you just want to.

“For making me the happiest demon? Oh come on, ‘I love you, Mark’ is so much better” he was acting cute and his charms still work on you.

“I love you, Mark”

“Thanks. I know” you smack his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and tell you, “I love you too, Y/n. You know that”

There's nothing wrong with being positive in life again after going through so much pain or after losing your first baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. As you and Mark wait for your due date, days have been beautiful while you wait for the baby. You are healthy, the baby is healthy, even Mark is healthy. You really think that this is going to be different than the first. Different in a beautiful way.

When the day finally comes, you were smiling and quite excited as Mark stays by your side the whole time. He was holding your hand, helping you to breathe, and fight to achieve that happiness with you. “Breathe with me, everything will be fine,” he says, smiling so handsomely in front of your eyes. You wanted to tell him that you love so much, thank him for changing your life but saying things like that while you're pushing to bring out the baby is kind of out of the scene. So you gave him a weak smile instead.

When the doctor had finally held the baby you and Mark were so happy because you were so close to being a family now.

But you’re slowly getting weak and he watches your smile fade and your eyes close.

“Doctor we are losing here!” the nurse exclaimed. Everything is happening again, Mark thought. As he watches the doctors and the nurses do everything they can to save you, Mark stood there quietly knowing all too well how dying works.

“Y/n, you can’t die. It’s not your time yet” he said a little too loud while standing like a statue. He used to be your guardian angel, of course, he knew things like this. “Y/n, you will be fine” he exclaimed again but this time there were tears in his eyes and his voice broke.

Time suddenly stopped and the scene was oddly familiar to him, there’s an angel inside this room to bring your soul to Heaven. “No, no”. he murmurs with tears in his eyes, looking around the room waiting for the angel to appear. “I know you’re here” he turned around multiple times until your new guardian angel appears. Doyoung.

“How many babies should I bring to heaven to make you stop? Look what you made me do” Doyoung said, “It’s not her time yet but this is the only way to keep her away from you. It’s an angel baby, Mark! You know that angels are not allowed to be born other than the insides of Heaven. It’s dangerous to expose divinity in the eyes of humans. What were you thinking?”

“I did not know- please bring her back. I’ll do anything you want” Mark begs his old friend, crying and whimpering like a little boy. If only he knew from the start he wouldn’t have got you pregnant in the first place and watch you suffer two times. Now he’s mad at himself.

“It’s too late old friend, I’m just doing my job”

And even before Mark could beg more, time turned back to normal and the doctor had announced the time of your death.

What better way to be punished after betraying Heaven and Hell by taking the love of his life. Of course, the heavenly creatures will bring you to Heaven because they knew all too well that Mark can’t enter the silver city again.  

[dinawrites]

INTRODUCING THE STUDENTS OF WESTWOOD

Ottoline Brassard, The Survivor

Born to Everett and Winona Brassard, Ottoline is the last surviving Witch of the Castemont line, and thus carries with her, in her very blood, the key to Atticus' tomb. Sent to Westwood Academy by the Eldritch Council for not only her protection but the safety of others following a volatile display of raw, untrained magic, Otto feels very much out of place among the teachers and the students, all of whom are members of Recondite Citizenry – an intricate and clandestine community of mystical beings Otto had never even known about let alone ever considered she'd be a part of. Having been raised by her (for lack of a better word) Muggle father, Otto had been constantly moved around as a child with little to no explanation as to why. Westwood Academy – although slow to warmly receive – was her first stable home since her mother died. And she'd be damned if she let anyone or anything take it from her, even if it was a centuries old blood curse and a deadly race of magicians all clawing to be the one to release their fiendish lord from his bonds.

Ulric Baranov, The Faithless

Ulric Baranov was a cold boy, with a cold smile – if you were ever so lucky to have caught a glimpse of it before it so easily vanished. His attention was as elusive as a glimmer of warmth in glacial eyes, and yet, against all odds, Ottoline Brassard caught the former, and would later prove to be a master at conjuring the latter. At first, she'd been an annoyance: too many questions, too quick to smile, too much wide-eyed awe and bewildered confusion. He never knew when it became endearing to him. He supposed, being born into all this, he never took a moment to ponder how truly magical it really was. He'd been a ward at Westwood ever since he was a young boy, when his family were all slaughtered, leaving him with a mutilated leg and a desolate bitterness. He never dared venture off campus, for he feared those who had attempted the extermination of the Dumont line would attempt it again, and finally succeed. So he stayed, locked in the safety of Westwood's halls, practicing, learning. Learning to protect himself against those who would claim his head.

Thomasin Rothchild, The Scion

Thomasin knew David Rothchild never wanted children – never saw himself as much of the parental type, he'd used to say – but there was never any doubt in her mind that he loved her as if she were his own. There hadn't been even a hint of hesitation when he accepted guardianship of his niece, and she'd been admitted to Westwood to join the Rothchild Pack. The line from which Rothchilds come had been known to produce incredibly powerful Alphas, and with that came enemies. Rival packs and rogue wolves who held the belief that to best one in combat would bring good fortune and status. Vampire covens who had centuries worth of bad blood against the family. Fickle Fae who had made and broken deals for the enjoyment, but had come to regret and swear vengeance when retribution was exacted. It had been a betrayal that had slaughtered her father – of that, Thomasin was certain. And although she was old enough to depart from her uncle's side – had been for a few years by then – she remained at Westwood, until she deemed herself strong enough to Alpha her own pack and reclaim what was rightfully hers. What should've gone to her the moment Warren Rothchild's Beta turned on him and clamped his vicious maw around his neck.

Eliseo Santos, The Condemned

Born a Witch in Spanish Inquisition infested Navarre in the year 1587, Eliseo's family was burned at the stake for heresy during the Basque witch trials. Prior to their execution, Teresa sold Eliseo to the Vampire, Violante Santos, in hopes of him avoiding the same fate. What came would be what Eliseo would argue to be a fate worse than death, for Violante Turned him after he attempted to join his family in death. This would serve to be the first of many families Eliseo would come to lose. But at Westwood, he found another; and if he had anything to say about it, the last. At Westwood he found home after centuries of searching; and he refused to lose it again. Because at Westwood, he found Thomasin Rothchild.

Matías Vilades, The Protector

The wolf had cornered him during a midnight hike at summer camp, but when the bite came, he did not scream. If Matías Vilades could liken the experience to anything, it would be pure destiny. And it was like the wolf knew it too, like it had chosen him for that very reason, intelligence aglow in amber eyes. Matías took to lycanthropy like second nature, but unfortunately, that nature was still a wild one, and in the eyes of the Eldritch Council, wild dogs without packs were either put down or domesticated. Matías understandably elected for the latter, and was promptly enrolled at Westwood Academy, where he was taken under the wing of the Rothchilds. Under the tutelage of the Recondite Citizenry's finest, Matías grew to be strong, powerful. And so it was no surprise when the new girl – a Witch with a bounty on her head – arrived, Matías was the number one choice to be her personal guardian. Her protector.

Lucille Burke, The Deceiver

Lucille would argue that every drop of blood she'd spilled was necessary, and had she been born of a different time, she'd be as pure as the undriven snow. Most of the Council would agree. She was a victim of her circumstances; all she ever wanted was freedom. And she'd wanted it so desperately, she'd signed her soul away for it. Born in an age where the word "property" could be used to refer to your fellow man, Lucille Burke had lived many lives. And although she enjoyed the benefits of being Warlocked the first hundred years or so, she came to despise the newfound gifts she had been given. For they had enslaved her as much as her indenture had years prior, and she was now bound to a demon every bit as evil as the man that had claimed ownership of her before. She had not been the one to propose the exorcism of Atticus Aimes, but she had been the one to lure him into the trap the First Families had constructed. They had been bound by the same demon, Atticus and her, the same fiend, and she had believed she was helping Atticus then. She wasn't so sure now. For they'd locked both Atticus and The Fiend away, banished them to a prison unknown. She vanished shortly after to escape a pending trial by the Eldritch, and later resurfaced, seeking refuge at the Vanderbilt Castle – the first iteration of the Westwood Academy. The Vanderbilts thought an ally of her, but were mistaken. She betrayed them to the Eldritch Council, and in their inferring gaze, Lucille Burke had earned her redemption. But there was still a penalty to be paid, and Lucille still had a sentence to serve for her prior violations. She would serve it at Westwood, praying every day that The Fiend would not return, for she knew that she would never be prepared for his wrath. She knew God could not hear her; he'd forsaken her long before she'd bargained herself away.

Tristan Daughtler, The Beguiled

Not much was known about Tristan Daughtler, and he preferred it kept that way. His year and country of origin, the circumstances of his Turning. All of these were things only Tristan knew, for everyone who even had a chance of knowing were long dead. What was known about Tristan Daughtler was that he was ruthless, remorseless, and as close to the devil as one would meet without being dragged to the fiery depths of hell. He hadn't always been like this; that was what Eliseo Santos had thought, and what Eliseo Santos had hoped. For they had been friends once. Tristan Daughtler, too, had been Sired by Violante Santos, and when Eliseo was taken in, Tristan accepted him with open arms. They became brothers, for a time. Neither wished to speak of what caused them to part so viciously — all that is known is that they were all that remained of the Santos Coven, and Eliseo is the only one who still mourns. Tristan's sentencing to Westwood by the Eldritch Council had been a futile attempt at subduing the savage, for how could one ever hope to rehabilitate a being more monster than man? And then he saw her. The little anomaly, the Witch. Ottoline Brassard, his saviour, his enchantress. His beguiler. He decided she was his that day. And seldom things could dissuade Tristan Daughtler.

TAGLIST: @hughstheforcelou @lost-in-the-shelves @akabluekat @lokitrasho @anna-phora @kazinejghafa @perfectlystiles @villanele

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Escape Room

requested by anon (lol although I know who it is now 👀👀) - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! thanks for the fun prompt!

Pairing: Jin x reader

Premise: Three words: competitive. escape. room.

Warnings: none. what you are about to witness is pure fluff. 

___________________________

"JEON JUNGKOOK GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!” You shout as you watch the maknae of the group scrambling from one end of the room to the other. “You too, Seokjin! I’m not about to spend my paycheck buying someone’s dinner!”

Taehyung cackles, giving you a high-five as you run past him, carrying a small portrait in your hands and hanging it up on the opposite wall. You stare at it for a moment before rotating it 90 degrees. An audible click sounds in the small room, and Jungkook lets out a shout of triumph. 

In the escape room next door you can hear Yoongi, Namjoon, Hobi, and Jimin collectively groaning in annoyance. 

It’s like music to your ears. 

You grin, rushing to the door that has just unlocked. It looks like there's only one room left, which is all the better. There’s no way you’re going to be roped into buying dinner for the opposing team. Not when you barely make above minimum wage and have sold your soul to the devil that is higher education. 

Jin isn’t displaying quite the same amount of vigor the other two boys are, instead he’s caught in the middle of the room while the rest of you rush out, making you turn back to him with an arched brow. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, clearly lost inside him own head.

Ears turning a little red at being caught staring, Jin clears his throat and follows after you into the next room. Together, the four of you begin to scour the room for clues. 

Jin grins at your enthusiasm, making a mental note to thank Sejin for bailing at the last second on their afternoon together. As an apology he sent you in his stead, claiming that you were sure to put Namjoon’s team in their place once and for all. 

“Tae, can you reach that book up there?” You ask so politely that it has Jin wondering if you’re the same person that was just shouting orders mere seconds ago. 

Either way, Jin doesn’t care. The only thing he knows is that he’s a goner. 

“I-I’ll get it,” Jin curses himself for his nervous stutter, but brushes it off. “Which book?”

Taehyung and Jungkook share a knowing look, grinning like school children. What neither you nor Jin know is that Sejin didn’t “accidentally bail”. No, he sent you as a part of a larger plot. 

For weeks, Sejin has been going on and on about you and how you’re a perfect match for the eldest member of BTS. He’d wanted to prove it, so naturally he’d created the perfect scenario.

You, and all seven members of BTS at an escape room. Competing against each other. 

And somehow ending up on the same team as an unsuspecting Seokjin who had immediately turned a little red when you greeted him. 

Needless to say, Taehyung and Jungkook knew that things were going along quite nicely. 

“Here you go,” Jin says, passing you the red book you had immediately set your eye on. You smile up at him tentatively, overjoyed when he returns the smile with his own dazzling one. 

Together the two of you bring the book over to the table in the middle of the room and begin leafing through it while Jungkook and Taehyung busy themselves with other tasks. 

Jin doesn’t want to admit that he hasn’t looked at a single page of this book. He’s been too busy marveling at the way your eyes light up and what it does to his heart. Without even thinking about it, he stands a little closer to you. Hopefully you won’t notice. 

You definitely do, but you’re not complaining. Especially not as Jin leans down to point something out on the page and he almost completely covers you with his body.

“You see, this page looks like a map of the room,” Jin says quietly, for your ears only. ���Do you think it might have some hints hidden in it?”

You suck on your lower lip, nodding along. “Ooh, very smart Seokjin. But...why are we whispering?”

Jin smiles, the action enough to nearly knock you off of your feet. “Well...how about we team up? Just the two of us? We’ll split the reward.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to face him, heart rate picking up at the way Jin’s eyes slowly trace the lines of your face. He’s close enough that all it would take is getting up on your tippy-toes - 

“If you wanted to ask her out to dinner, just say it hyung.”

The spell is broken by Jungkook’s giggles as Taehyung smirks at his brother from the opposite end of the table. As though dunked in freezing water, the both of you jump back. 

“What?” Jin gasps, feigning innocence. “Why were you two listening in on our conversation?! I get no respect-”

“Hyung,” Jungkook interrupts. “You do realize that we’re in a very small room, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Anyways,” you cut in, “Let’s finish this thing and win! Hurry up, Jungkook. Haven’t you guys found anything?”

It takes another agonizing eight minutes to bust out of the room, Taehyung and Jungkook running through the door at lightning speed. You laugh at their reaction, falling into step beside Jin and walking at a leisurely pace. 

You’re about three steps away from the door and sweet, sweet victory when Jungkook jumps up and closes it on you.

Jin leaps forward, pounding at the door and laughing. “Yah! Open up!”

Jungkook’s muffled voice is heard from the other side. “Not until you ask her out like a man!”

If you could melt through the floor, you would. You laugh awkwardly, putting your head in your hands. Jin continues knocking on the door, slowly losing his original vigor. 

Once he falls silent in his pleas you look up to see him already looking at you. The expression on his face makes him look a little lost, but he swallows thickly before speaking with assumed confidence. 

“I...there’s really no pressure, but if you wanted to, I’d love to-”

The sounds of the other group exiting their escape room cuts Jin off, making him turn an even brighter shade of red. 

“Where’s the rest of your team?” Hobi asks. Taehyung and Jungkook laugh darkly. 

“Spending some alone time on the other side of that door.”

Jin whips around, prepared to knock the door down. “Taehyung-ah! You take that back right now or so help me I’ll....I’ll...” He turns to you with a shocked expression. “Quick, I need something intimidating.”

Stepping up beside Jin, you join him in pounding the door. “Or we’ll cut holes into all of your socks!”

Jin laughs, the sound making you laugh along with him. “Yeah! Watch it!”

Looking up at Jin, you give him a little nudge. “Hey.”

He pauses for a moment, his face red from the exertion. “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you gonna ask me out?”

Tension dissolving from his body in an instant, Jin gives you a genuine smile. A little timid at first, but growing until he can no longer contain his glee. 

“Oh, definitely. What are you doing after this?”

masterlist

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being the reincarnation of Dracula's long lost love: part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Dracula helped you out of the coffin and held you close in his arms, not wanting to ever let you go again.

"Vlad, I was so scared." You told him, pressing your face into his chest.

"Me too." He said, stroking your hair. So he was right after all. You were Maria. You had finally come back to him at last.

You still felt weak and held on to Dracula for support. Not only did you feel weak, but you felt... different. You didn't know what it was, but it was like all your senses were maxed out. It was so overwhelming. There was also this new scent that you discovered. It smelled delicious, but what was it? You wondered looking around trying to find the source.

"What did you mean that you remember everything?" Van Helsing asked, concerned for you.

You faced him, realizing just where that smell was coming from. Your eyes shined bright red, an intense hunger in them...hunger for blood. Normally you would have been repelled by such a thing, but right now you needed it more than ever. Van Helsing watched you nervously as you inched toward him.

"Y/N?" He said nervously backing away, but you did not answer. All you could think about was his blood, the taste of it on your lips. Dracula noticing your odd behavior, grabbed you by your shoulders and held you back. Why? He did not know. He had wanted to kill Van Helsing himself earlier. Perhaps he was trying to prevent you from doing something you would regret.

You squirmed, trying to wriggle free, but Dracula held you firmly in place. "Let me go!" You hissed at him, revealing for the first time your fresh new set of fangs. Van Helsing stared at you wide eyed. What had he done? You were no longer the sweet, brave, and kind Y/N, you were now a monster. He should never have let Dracula turn you. But then you would be dead...looking at you now, maybe it would have been better that way. He just lost it in a moment of grief.

"Calm down, darling." Dracula spoke in a soft voice, trying to soothe you. "You will feed soon, I promise."

Van Helsing glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" 

"She is in a very crucial time right now. She needs to feed." Dracula urgently explained to him.

"So what will you do, go kill another innocent person?" He asked, raising his voice.

"We have no choice."

Van Helsing sighed. "Then she can have some of mine."

"That is not necessary, Doctor Van Helsing." He refused.

"Yes it is. I won't have you or her killing anyone else. I'll run into town and get my supplies. I'll be back soon." He said, buttoning up his coat, turning to leave.

"Henry, take the coach if it's still there and take him home." Dracula ordered. Henry nodded and promptly followed Van Helsing out.

A few minutes later the tapping of horseshoes against the ground could be heard as they disappeared into the night leaving you and Dracula alone. You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh, then looked up at him.

"Is that what it's like for you all the time?" You asked, now realizing how difficult life was for him. How tempting it was to feed on human blood. Even now with no mortals around, you desired it. Dracula simply nodded. "It's horrible...I can't believe I wanted to...to..." You winced at the thought of hurting, maybe even killing Lawrence. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you close.

"Come, let's wait for them upstairs." Dracula said, guiding you from the dungeons and up the stairs. When you reached the entry hall your mouth fell open in shock. This was the first time you had seen the castle in ruins. You felt a very intense anger. How dare the townspeople do this to your home, to Dracula's home!

"What do we do Vlad?" You ask, looking around. He squeezed your shoulder and replied, "We'll find some place else. Anywhere is home as long as I have you."

As you waited for Van Helsing to return, your mind wandered. You thought about how strange fate was. In your previous life you were married to Dracula and Van Helsing was his power hungry step-brother who killed you. In this life you were Van Helsing's friend who ultimately reunited you with your lover.

"What's wrong?" Dracula asked, noticing how quiet you had become.

"I was just thinking. What happened after...after I died all those years ago?" You asked. Dracula knew this question was inevitable now.

"Well, Van Helsing fled and joined the Turks. Soon after, we went to war and I was killed during one of the battles. As I lay there dying from my wounds, the devil appeared to me. I sold my soul and in return I would have my revenge on the Van Helsings." He told you.

"That's when you became one of the living dead?" You asked. He nodded. "But Lawrence doesn't know about any of that. He told me he wanted to get rid of you because he thought you were a threat to humanity."

"He's right. I am." He admitted. "I didn't care how many lives I took. How much blood I spilled. None of them mattered as long as I didn't have you. I was just as ruthless in life as I am in death."

"And now?"

He paused for a moment, thinking. "I don't know..."

Suddenly, from out of the wreckage you heard some rustling followed by a series of painful moans. Dracula pushed you behind him ready to attack whatever it was. From beneath the debris, a man crawled out. He was covered in dirt and blood, the smell instantly flooded your nostrils. "H-help me..." The man pleaded as he slowly pulled himself across the floor. Dracula looked over at you and saw the hunger return in your eyes and how you licked your lips, desperate for just a little taste. He didn't want to admit how turned on he was by this. He smiled and stepped aside, letting you pass. He wasn't about to let you miss out on your first meal.

Your eyes were fixed on the man before you, like a predator staring down it's prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"I'll help you." You lied, your voice sounding menacing.

"Oh, thank you I-" He peered up at you and saw what you had become and let out a blood curdling scream. "Nonnnoo! Please!" He cried, cowering away, but you didn't hear him. You were focused on one thing. You grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off the ground making him eye-level with you. You hesitated for a moment. You knew you shouldnt. That this was bad, but he did try to kill you and your love after all. He deserved it. Your mouth was practically watering as the sound of his pulse pounded against your eardrums. Dracula stood behind you and whispered in your ear, "Do it." Before the man could utter another plea for mercy, you sunk your fangs deep into his neck. His blood dripped down your lips and chin as you sucked every last drop from his body. Dracula wanted you now more than ever. You moaned and threw your head back enjoying the taste of blood as it ran down your throat. Once you were finished, you tossed the corpse back into the rubble he crawled out of.

"How do you feel now?" Dracula asked, eyeing you lustfully. You grinned at him. "Much better, darling." You answered in a husky voice, running your finger under his chin. Unable to resist you a moment longer, he twirled you around and pressed you flush against him. Leaning down he licked some of the blood from your lips, then he roughly pressed his mouth on yours. He could still taste the blood as he slipped his tongue inside. It drove him mad. You couldn't help but let out a moan when he suddenly nipped your bottom lip as he pulled away. You both stared longingly into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity.

You went to kiss him again, but were interupted when Henry and Van Helsing returned.

"Y/N! What have you done?!" He exclaimed noticing the fresh blood around your lips, running towards you. He looked down at the man's lifeless body, a horrified expression on his face. "You killed him..."

"What of it?" Dracula sneered.

"Don't you understand? She killed an innocent man!" He yelled.

"He wasn't so innocent when he tried to kill us." You quickly pointed out.

"Y/N, why? I thought you were better than this." 

"I guess I'm not who you thought I was." You said coldly. Van Helsing felt his heart break again at how much you changed. He wanted to take you far away from here, far away from Dracula. To try to find a way to get his Y/N back. He'd rather you be dead than live out eternity like this...Van Helsing sighed. He had no other choice. He had to kill you and Dracula before it was too late.

"I guess not." He agreed. "There's nothing more I can do if this is the life you've chosen. I'm leaving for London tomorrow." Dracula eyed him suspiciously. Was he really willing to just leave you alone? To just ignore the fact that you might kill again. Did he really care for you that much?

"Will I ever see you again?" You asked, still wishing to remain friends. Even though his ancestor had murdered you in your past life you didn't hold it against Lawrence. He was different.

"No, I don't think so." He replied, looking away.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said sadly, but you understood.

"I am as well." Van Helsing said. You pulled away from Dracula and went over to your friend, pulling him into a hug. Why did you have to do that? He thought. It only made things more difficult for him. He knew the real you was still in there somewhere, but the vampire took her place leaving a shell of what you once were. You placed a quick peck on his cheek and backed away.

"Goodbye, Y/N." He said, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see you alive, knowing that when the sun came up it was up to him to end your damned existence. He turned and left without another word.

Dracula felt your distress and wrapped you in his arms in a comforting embrace. It was getting close to dawn now. He needed to find you a coffin before daylight broke. So, after he knew you were alright he left with Henry to the local cemetery to find you a coffin.

You wandered the castle ruins thinking about Lawrence. He had been your only friend in the world till now. No one else had stopped to give you a second thought, but he did. He was there for you when no one else was. At one point before you came to Transylvania, you thought you loved him, but he was too involved in his work. His work was his ultimate passion, and you knew you couldn't compete, so you never did. You sometimes wondered what it would be like if you had chosen a life with Van Helsing. Would you be a silly little domestic couple with a house and kids? It was an amusing thought, but neither of you were the type.

Finally, Dracula and Henry returned a little while later carrying a coffin. It wasnt anything fancy, but it would do. Perhaps later, you could get a better one. Sunlight started peeking in through the windows as they hurriedly carried it into the dungeons, placing your coffin beside Dracula's.

"Too bad they don't make couple's coffins." You joked.

"Maybe we could have one made." He teased, kissing your neck where he had bitten you, making you shudder. "I love you." You said softly running your fingers through his hair.

"I love you too." It was so pleasant to hear him utter those words. You wanted to hear him say it again and again.

"Sleep well, darling." You said with a yawn, as you lay down suddenly feeling tired. You took one last look at him before shutting the lid. This wasn't an ideal lifestyle, but you loved him and that's all that mattered.

The sun rose into the sky and the birds began to sing their morning song. It would have been a beautiful day if it not had been for the task that Van Helsing had set out to do. He crept back inside the castle, bag in hand, being careful not wanting to draw attention to himself. He stood in the doorway to the dungeons, contemplating his next move. His chest was heavy as the thought about driving a stake into your heart. But he had to do it. He slowly opened the door and walked inside, and down the flight of stairs to the room where Dracula's coffin had been earlier. Now he noticed, that there were two coffins lying side by side, one belonging to you.

He reached inside his bag and pulled out a hammer and a couple of stakes. Van Helsing strode over to your coffin and pulled open the lid. Inside, you lay looking peaceful and content, a small smile on your face. If only it didn't have to be this way...

He pressed the stake between your breasts and raised the hammer high into the air, ready to strike. But he couldn't. The longer he stared down into your beautiful face, the harder it became to do it. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he didn't look at you...But he just couldnt. Why was this so difficult?

Suddenly, a voice shouted out behind him startling him. "Hey! What are you doing?!" Henry shouted, running at him, tackling him to the ground.

"Stop!" Lawrence yelled, shoving Henry off of him. Not listening, Henry raised his fist and slammed it into the side of Van Helsing's face, quickly tearing the stake and hammer out of his grasp.

He shook his head, feeling dazed for a moment.

"How could you do that?! I thought you wanted her alive?!" Henry asked throwing away his weapons across the room.

"I did, but after seeing what she has become I couldnt let her live like that...but I can't do it. I can't release her from this curse....It's all my fault." Van Helsing sobbed, his head throbbing. This is why he never let anyone get close to him in the first place. He had only himself to blame for this. There had to be another way and he was going to find it by any means necessary.

[square-blunt]

You're in my heart, in my heart, in my head.

The normal empires fic in which shit goes from 0 to -100 to 100 and back to -100 in like, 2000 words. Scott ruins shit bc he's a dumbass in love. Jimmy watches him die. Y'know, the normal fic you'd see on the empires tag. This is a Minecraft Roleplay.

TW- MCD (major character death), Gore, (blood. and like, big knife mention). Angst. there is so much angst- emotional mental physical, it's all that shit. Sacrifice, screaming, crying, and they kiss so that's fun but y'know.

WC: 2009

Ao3: :) Second Chapter: :)

Scott knows something is wrong. He feels that pit in his stomach- familiar emptiness that clouds his vision and his mind. His feet start to move forward. He knows- he knows something's happening.

He knows Jimmy is in trouble.

He hasn't been in Mythland much- but somehow he cuts through trees and knocks over stands almost like he knows exactly where he's going and nothing was gonna stop him from getting there. It's getting dark- that's weird it was just noon-

Scott looks up to see where the sun is. 'This can't get any worse,' he thinks. You're never supposed to fight a demon when there's a solar eclipse, everyone knows that-

Scott hears a scream. It sends his heart up into his throat- that's Jimmy. Scott sprints forward and bursts through the treeline and he's at Sausage's summoning circle- no- no no no-

The sight is terrible. Sausage- his body is practically decaying under the weight of corruption- of possession. Xornoth's possessed the man he once saw as a friend. And Joey's by his side, a book in hand, chanting in elvish. They've crafted an obsidian altar- and writhing in chains, desperately trying to free himself is Jimmy. Tears are streaking down his face, his terror radiating off of him in waves.

Xornoth raises something above their head as the moon fully covers the sun- its last light gleaming off the object- it's a ritual knife.

They're going to sacrifice you- I don't want to lose you. He can hear Jimmy’s voice as clear as day.

Scott screams out a time-shattering “Stop” before he can get a hold of himself.

Everything does stop. Time, space, reality- it feels like Scott’s heart has stopped, too. Sausage looks at him with eyes that aren’t his own; Joey looks at him as well, but his eyes hold no rage or fear, only smugness. His eyes are drawn away as he catches Jimmy’s face. It goes from happiness to confusion, to heartbreak, back to confusion, and then to pure fear.

“Stop,” Scott says it a little quieter this time. His voice rings out against the stilled breeze. There are no birds, no nature, everything around them is either dead or too terrified to make a sound. Xornoth tilts his head, slowly and concerningly calmly. “Step away from him.” Scott’s hand finds itself on the hilt of his sword. Not like there’s much that could do, but he has to do something.

Xornoth laughs. It sounds like Sausage.

“Scott-” Jimmy says, and immediately cries out in pain. Scott looks up- Joey was the one to twist his arm. Under any other circumstances, Scott would have lunged forward and sunk his sword into Joey’s skull, but since Xornoth is still holding a very painful-looking ritual knife, Scott stays put.

“Jimmy, don’t say anything-” Scott begins, his voice tight with panic. Xornoth speaks up before he can continue, Scott’s heart dropping in his chest. His voice sounds like Sausage, too.

“Brother, have you come to replace your lover from another life?” Xornoth’s voice is suffocatingly rich with sarcasm and fake pity.

Scott can’t answer. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He doesn’t- he can’t look at Jimmy.

“I know you remember, great champion of Aeor, I know you do.” Xornoth grins, their face contorting.

“I do, and I have,” Scott says, finally getting over the lump in his throat. The lump comes back tenfold as Xornoth’s grin grows impossibly wider.

“Scott- no- what-” Jimmy begins to say, but Joey quiets him with another yank on his restraints. Xornoth puts a hand out, and Joey drops the ropes.

“You know what I need, brother,” Xornoth says, their voice eerily emotionless.

“Scott- don’t do this-”

“Jimmy, please,” Scott says, closing his eyes to keep the tears at bay, he can’t give Xornoth his own humanity.

“Scott-” Scott winces as Jimmy’s voice breaks. Jimmy doesn’t know, he can’t remember-

Scott takes a deep breath, and once again, speaks before he can tell himself to stop.

“I, Ellinair, take the place of this man so that he might live free of pain or suffering for the rest of his life.” Scott needs to make sure that Jimmy gets off free, with no strings attached. So Xornoth can’t hurt him after he’s gone.

“No- Scott, what have you done- why-” Jimmy sits up, some of the ropes have disappeared but he still can’t leave the altar.

Xornoth laughs- it doesn’t sound like Sausage anymore.

“A great elf with a great future who was stolen in the night and thrown into an arena for the devil’s delight. And you fell in love. How cute!” they snarl, “Unfortunately, as you died, you were whisked away from our grasp. I had to find you again, and wasn’t I lucky that I found your husband instead? And, better yet, without your protection! It was so easy, brother, to just come in and take him. To use him. Sweet, dopey, stupid Jimmy. Why would he be the one tied to that dragon? I kill him, and nothing will happen other than a shortage of slimeballs and a few tears. The only use for him was that he was close to you. He’s nothing but a pawn to get to you. And you, in your blind devotion, played right into my hand. I was never going to kill him, it would honestly be too much effort to do so. I was never going to kill him. I was only threatening to kill him so you would change places with him, so Exor could finally triumph over his brother. You are weak, Ellinair, in your love, in your loyalty- or lack thereof. You always were weak. And now I’ve won. Exor has won because you fell for a mortal. Because of a flower. It’s sickeningly amusing, I must say. But unfortunately, it seems that your time is drawing to a close. Lesser, you may release the ‘bait’.” Xornoth ends their monologue with a direction Scott takes a moment to realize is for Joey, who follows it immediately. Jimmy, now free, lurches off the altar like it was burning him alive. He rushes over to Scott, questions bubbling up and out of him. His hands move to hold Scott’s, but Scott isn’t exactly... present. But he can still hear Jimmy. How he wishes he couldn’t.

“Scott- Scott what’s going on- I thought you- what’s going on? Why did you- Scott- why did you take- what-” Jimmy asks, clutching at Scott’s hands. Scott hangs his head, Jimmy immediately stops and lets him talk.

“Jimmy... you don’t know what you mean to me,” Scott says, tears threatening to fall, he can’t make eye contact with Jimmy.

“I think I can guess, at least,” Jimmy says, voice tight, cupping Scott’s face. Scott still can’t look at him.

“They’re right-” Scott begins to say- before Jimmy tilts Scott’s head to face him and kisses him. It takes Scott a second for his heart and his head to catch up to it- but Jimmy’s kissing him. Finally, after what feels like eons apart, he’s kissing him again. Scott kisses him back like he’s the air he’s gone without breathing for so long- Scott’s been without him for so long- and just when he’s got him back... he quite literally sold his soul for this. Time stops again- this has happened way too many times for it to be normal but Scott wishes it would stop forever. Seconds turn into minutes and it’s like the gods have finally taken pity on him and given him time to give everything he can. He’s sold his soul for Jimmy, and he’s never gonna get to see him again. The tears become too much, and they fall- but Scott would rather die now than break the kiss, so Scott’s tears stain both their cheeks. The kiss tastes the same it always did, like Jimmy, and it was heart-achingly familiar.

Scott can’t live without it.

Funny.

He won’t live much longer anyway.

He is hyper-aware of Jimmy’s grip on him, on his face, in his hair, holding him close like they would melt together if they could.

Maybe Jimmy needs him as much as Scott.

And fuck, he needed Jimmy.

He needs to feel as much of Jimmy as he can before all he feels is a knife through his chest.

But right now all he cares about are the hands on his chest where the knife will go- the hands that are gonna be gone soon- Scott hasn’t been counting the seconds how long has it been- how long has Jimmy been kissing him- how long has he been kissing back- how long do they have left? Scott wraps his arms around Jimmy, trying to become inseparable- and Jimmy just holds onto him tighter. One of them sobs into the other- and all Scott can think is I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you- and he hopes Jimmy can hear him.

They both can hear a sickening crunch, instead.

As time crashes back into Scott's reality like a freight train, a number of things happen in rapid succession.

Jimmy is torn away, crying out in pain. It's familiar. Scott's tears break their dam and his vision is blurred- but he can still see Jimmy, sweet, dopey, beautiful Jimmy.

As Jimmy gets jerked backward, his and Scott's grip tightens on each other, and Jimmy's screams of agony make Scott want to throw up.

It takes everything Scott has to stay in place and keep Jimmy with him.

"'Scott something's on my back- something's hooked into me-"

"Jimmy- don't let go- please, please don't let go- I love you, please-"

"I won't- Scott- don't- I love you, too, I love you, too-"

Something cold sinks into Scott's shoulder, sending searing hot pain across his body- and making his arm go limp.

Scott and Jimmy are ripped apart from each other.

Scott screams for Jimmy and thrashes around, trying desperately to free himself, sobs ringing in his skull and fear and pain and regret raking through his body- but he refuses to stop looking at Jimmy, and Jimmy still looks at him. He catches a glimpse of what’s hooked onto Jimmy's back- it’s a massive tendril of corruption, and now it's holding Jimmy suspended in the middle of the air- it looks like it hurts him to breathe, much less call out Scott's name, but it's all in vain.

Scott knows he's going to die.

He gave his word.

But that doesn't mean he's not going to try and get away.

He needs to get away.

He needs to scream and cry and writhe and brace himself against the altar that whatever's hooked into his shoulder is trying to drag him onto.

He needs Jimmy to know how sorry he was because he’s gone and fucked it all up now. He thought he’d be able to play it off to Jimmy as ‘you don't deserve to die in my place' but when Jimmy looked at him with pure heartbreak and fear in his eyes he knew that he was doing it to save him.

Not the world.

Jimmy was his world.

Scott loses the fight and is dragged up onto the altar, where tendrils of dark crimson threaten to bury him alive, and one-handed he tries to swat them off. He can feel his power draining, he knows Joey's probably chanting again, but all he hears is Jimmy. He looks back, and Jimmy is still struggling and sobbing and Scott has to keep fighting to stay alive as long as possible just to be able to see Jimmy for as long as possible.

But the tendrils are growing in number, and Scott can’t keep all of them at bay and slowly he’s overtaken and restrained. The metal hook still sits painfully in his shoulder as his energy drains with his blood, he’s lost the power to scream.

Jimmy hasn’t.

Scott hangs onto that.

Scott hangs onto Jimmy’s screams, his sobs, his ‘Please stop’s, his ‘why him’s, Scott hangs onto the feeling of rage- at his brother and their tool hurting Jimmy like this- but the rage stays heavy on his chest. Rage and fear and pain swirl in his mind and every other emotion drains out of him.

All he knows is terror.

All he knows is Jimmy’s sobs.

He knows that he has seconds left- Xornoth’s probably already gotten the knife back up above his head.

All Scott can offer to Jimmy, all that he has left, is a weak smile of comfort before every sense he has cuts out.

Scott can’t see Jimmy.

He can’t hear Jimmy.

He’s failed everyone he’s ever known.

[scribblingplace]

Payment Due - A Living Dead Dolls Ficlet.

Kitty sold her immortal soul and servitude in exchange for a 4.0 GPA, and a few other fun favors.  Lou Sapphire is here to make her pay up.

CW: Suicide mention.

Kathleen Baylock, more colloquially known as Kitty was laying on her bed, idly scrolling through her phone with one hand while filling out her math work with another.  Not even looking.  After all, the answers would all be right.  

It was, what was that thing called?  Automatic writing?  Yeah, except instead of hearing from some dead grandma it was a direct line to the depths of hell.  Turns out The Devil was great at calculus.  

And English.  

And French. 

And Chemistry.

And History.

This year was going to be a breeze.  

The phone in her hand buzzed and the caller ID flashed the initials L S.  

Kitty’s brows furrowed in concern as she answered.  

“Oh hey Mr. Sapphire!”  She started, her tone perky despite her nerves.  An affect she’d perfected at her last two summer jobs.  

“What can I do for you?”  

“Your payment is due Kitty.”  

She blanched and opened her mouth to speak, the cheer draining from her immediately.  

“And what is it you-”  She was cut off by a shrill scream in the background on the other end, some agonized yowling, the shattering of something heavy.  

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.  Prepare yourself.”  

The line went dead.  Suddenly, selling her soul didn’t seem like such a great idea.  How did she- she didn’t even know what she was preparing for.  The minutes dragged by until finally, the doorbell rang.  Kitty jumped and raced downstairs, trying to brace herself for whatever dark deed she would be asked to carry out.  

She hoped whatever it was it wasn’t too gory, she’d just gotten her nails done.

She hesitated at the door a moment longer.  Hearing something on the other side, an argument mostly muffled by the thick wood. Apparently Mr. Sapphire had brought friends.  

Whatever the commotion was put to an end with a sharp and booming.  “SILENCE.”   

Kitty took a deep breath and opened it.  As good a time to make her introduction as any right?  

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see, but it probably wasn’t an ostensible prince of Hell holding two glowering children an arms length apart, one hand on the collar of each of their coats.   

Kitty looked down at them, watching as the man marched them inside, and then looked up at Lou Sapphire.  His normally perfect hair was disheveled and his glossy black tie was ever so slightly out of place.  

“Uh-” 

“These,” he began, releasing the children as he spoke, “little monsters, are yours for the night.  Make sure they don’t kill each other.”  

The girl, the younger of the two who bore a striking resemblance to Mr. Sapphire blew a raspberry at him, and the boy, who had the same black hair but an overall far less demonic appearance rolled his eyes at her, then turned his attention back to Mr. Sapphire.  “Father, this isn’t fair!”  He whined, “If Sin will just st-” 

 “Damien, you're staying with Kitty tonight.”  

The boy’s shoulders sagged and he mumbled his agreement, before glaring daggers at his sister.  

“I’m sorry,” Kitty started, tentatively, the three of them had seemed to forget her for the moment, speaking up put her in center stage.  “Do you just want me to babysit?”  

“Yes, their last sitter had an… accident.”  “She hung herself.”  Damien said flatly.  

“Her note said it was my fault!” Sin added brightly.  “I give you a month.”  

Mr. Sapphire pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled.  “I don’t really care so long as you make it through the night.  Children, pockets.”  

Another eye roll from Sin, and a scowl from Damien as they set to the task demanded of them.  Sin’s pockets contained a startling collection of matches, Damien’s small rocks, a slingshot, and a doll made of twigs with some hair balled up inside.  

At last, when both the pockets were inside out and he had collected all their illicit goods Mr. Sapphire nodded.  “Alright, have fun kids.  Kitty, best of luck.”  With that he took a step back, out of the entrance hall and onto the porch, the doors slammed behind him, locks clicking into place.  

Kitty stared down at Sin and Damien.  Babysitting, she could do this.  “So…You guys like horror movies?”   

[drivingsideways]

For @the-ever-present-julie, based off this tumblr post.

Five times Dean and Cas kissed and never talked about it, and the one time they did and still won’t talk about it. 

Five.

It's not like Dean hasn't thought about it before.

That first month after he crawled his way out of his grave? He'd never told Sam or Bobby, but that entire month, hell, more like three,  he'd been convinced that it was all just one of Alastair's tricks. That Alastair had moved on from the crude, visceral pleasure of blood and guts and shredded flesh to this—letting him dream, and then, right when he'd let himself believe it, that the impossible had happened, Alastair would take it away.

The sick fuck.

But two could play that game, alright?

Dean- Dean was good at this. Dean knew Alastair, like calling to like in the putrid depths of hell. Dean would find a way to trip him up, it was like that time with the djinn. Find the thing that didn't fit, the thing that was impossible to explain, and then tug at that thread until it all unraveled.

Well, he didn't have to look too far.

Castiel, angel of the Lord, who made his ears bleed, and his stomach swoop—well— come the fuck on, there was no possible way his mind could have generated this. This was Alastair, through and through, Alastair who had put him on the rack and taken more pieces out of him than he'd known existed, who'd worked him over and over and over, and somewhere along the way learnt enough about Dean that he'd—

The handprint buzzed and ached and tingled and Castiel's blue, blue eyes had looked right through him, and said things like you don't think you deserve to be saved, and if  I tell you something, will you keep it a secret, I'm not a hammer, and no, this would not be the thing he let himself believe, this would not be one more way that Alastair broke him. In the backseat of his car, Anna had fitted her palm onto the scar, her delicate, smooth palm too small for it, the whorls of her fingers caressing the edges, and it had been electric, and all wrong, because it wasn't her mark that Dean carried on his friggin' re-hymenated body (it wasn't her who had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, and Dean's body knew it in a way that Dean wasn't going to think about, let alone—)

That sonuvabitch Alastair would not break him with a fairy tale that innocent people told their children, angels watch over you, but his mother had not been innocent in all of this, had she, she had sold Sammy to the Devil, and Castiel had laid a hand on his shoulder (but had not touched his mark, why hadn't—) and had looked at Dean with something like sorrow, and didn't seem to mind when Dean called him Cas, brought him down to his level, and fuck, here he was again, out of options, out of luck, out of fuel, and his brother was someone he didn't recognize.

The sickest thing was how that was the part  that had felt real, felt painful in a way that Alastair could have never devised. Dean's soul was putting himself in the hands of a demon bitch, and there was fuck all that Dean could do about it. This was how he broke then, in the words of a prayer, the first he'd ever said, and he hadn't  known whom he was praying to, but it had been Cas who showed up, eyes bluer than any summer sky Dean had ever seen, face striated by the colours of a vending machine, and said, faith is a good sign, Dean. What was it a sign of, Dean would have liked to know, and it wasn't faith, not by a long shot, but what could a creature like Castiel have known of desperation?  Castiel who stood close, too close, but had touched him only twice, who'd said, it's not blame that rests on you, it's fate, and yeah, that was fucking Winchester Gospel for you, cursed from the start, the two of them, before they were in the womb, born under a bad sign.

But Cas had helped, and Dean had begun to think—but of course, Cas left, and there was only poor, stupid Jimmy Novak, and then Cas was back, but not really, Cas was a stranger, and Dean didn't know when he'd stopped thinking of Cas as a stranger, and just, strange—

 Dean had laid one across Castiel's marble-face that didn't shatter, tried, because what else could he have done? This is real, this is the only thing that's worth it and even before the disappointment of having Cas leave could sink in, the handprint had buzzed and ached and tingled  as Cas pressed him against a wall and pressed a palm against his lips and then bled on the floor, for Dean, (whom he didn't serve) and Cas had said, I'll hold them all off, go save him, but of course it had been too late, because that was the story of Dean's life, too late, too late.

Cas comes back, and oh look, Cas has learnt what desperation means, after all. There's something wild in his eyes, that he tries to hide but doesn't succeed when he says, we need God, it's not theological, it's strategic, and if Dean had a moment to take a breath, he would have wanted to sit Cas down, and say, listen man, I understand it, but this is a road to nowhere, you're only going to waste your time, you gotta stop loving what can't love you back, and yeah, that'd have been hypocritical of him, but so what, that was pretty low down on Dean's laundry list of sins.

But it's the Apocalypse, and as it happens Dean's got his own shit to deal with, and Cas isn't his responsibility, so what if he just died for Dean or whatever, alright, Dean owes him, but not like that.

And now it's the end of the world, their last night on earth, and Dean's not too late to make Cas smile at him, confused but fond, and Castiel's smile is nothing like Jimmy Novak's. Cas is nothing like Jimmy Novak who'd just been a naive man in an ugly suit, and well. He'd promised Cas a good time, and Dean's not got a lot to give Cas, by way of thanks or comfort or anything, and what had Cas said that time? Everything on earth is pain, but that's only cause he doesn't know, the good parts, the best parts, and before Dean can chicken out of it, he's pressing Cas up against the Impala, and Cas is letting him, goes willing, pliant, staring at him, eyes wide, and Dean sees the moment it happens, the small hitch of breath he takes, that Cas, who doesn't need to breathe makes, and his eyes dart to Dean's lips and flash up again, and Dean's kissing him, and it's—riding a comet—

Cas doesn't know how to kiss.

But that's fine, that's a-ok, because Dean does, and Dean can show him, and Cas is a quick learner, zero to six hundred in twenty seconds or less, and now it's Dean who can't breathe except in loud, panting gasps, Cas's warm, strong hand wrapped with his around their dicks, not enough slick, a little too rough, too painful, perfect, perfect, and Cas is eating his face, teeth sharp and painful on Dean's lips, eyes still wide open and unblinking, the freak, but his gaze is hot and ferocious, and Dean's eyes flutter shut again on a moan, because Dean's burning, has been burning all this time, he realizes, for this, for—

Cas rips his sleeve off, jacket and shirt, both gone,  and then his hand is there, and Dean's coming, wet, thick and nasty all over an angel's hand, he should be going to hell for this, except Cas hadn't let him stay there, and hadn't thrown him back, and this was real, Dean shuddering, face hidden in the crook of Cas' neck, trembling, his knees giving way, but Cas' got him, the hand on his shoulder slipping lower, around his back to hold him up, holding him in place,  and Dean should— he should—

 Four.

He  wakes up alone in a motel room, and there is a tomorrow, and then the  day after, but no Cas, and then there is two thousand fucking fourteen, and Cas is still there in the ruins that Sam and Dean made of the world , jesus fucking christ on a candy stick, Cas is still there.

Cas is broken, because Dean did that to him, and Cas kisses him, once, open mouthed and filthy, and then draws back and says, the day I decide to stay, make sure I don't, please, if you ever cared even a little, promise me, and then Cas goes off to die with even-more-of-an-asshole-future-him, because that's just how he rolls.

 Three.

He shouldn't.

If that mook Zach's little thought experiment had taught him anything, it should have been this- that Cas was off limits.

That he shouldn't keeping finding ways to keep him close.

He shouldn't keep finding ways to kiss Cas, but that's exactly what he does.

The world's ending around them in slow motion and they are fucking.

They're fucking in dank, stinking alleys, blood running down Dean's chin, and Cas licking it up, and feeding it back to him, tongue practically molesting Dean's tonsils, fingers squeezing his neck, rubbing against each other fully clothed, until Dean's coming in his pants. They're fucking on stained  bedsheets of grimy hotel rooms, lights flickering, crackling, every electronic instrument in a five mile radius gone haywire, the smell of ozone and jizz making Dean dizzier, as Cas pounds him through four successive orgasms, each more spectacular and painful than the last, Dean's body a limp rag after. They're fucking squeezed together in the backseat of the Impala, Dean hunched over Cas, occasionally knocking his head on the roof, but he can't stop, won't stop, nothing has felt this good, a thick fat dick inside him, filling up his empty places, and  Cas slack-mouthed, and eyes closed under him, hands wrapped around Dean's biceps so tight that Dean's gotta wear long sleeves through the hottest summer in three centuries, so that Sammy won't ask.

Sam knows, of course he does.

Cas isn't subtle when he turns up, dishevelled, hair sticking out in five different directions, looking pissed off and tired; shrinking, somehow, but still with that crackling power about him, and not looking at anyone or anything except at Dean, like all the roads he's taken looking for God have only led him straight back to Dean. Sam's taken to clearing his throat awkwardly, and hot-footing it out of hearing range the moment Cas appears, and just as well, Dean doesn't have it in him anymore to be quiet, sprawled wide open on the bed, hands twisting in the sheets as  Cas fucks him fuck, fuck, fuck,  jesus fuck,  if he hadn't already gone to hell, surely this would send him there, profaning this holy thing of god, whose tongue was made for songs of praise and worship, and is instead all the way up Dean's ass, dragging an orgasm out of him.

It's alright, he reasons, on the days Cas is gone, and Sam is there, but gone.

Cas and him, they're not so different after all. They're both the disappointing sons of deadbeat dads, and Cas is losing his wings and his faith at approximately the same speed that Dean's losing everything and everyone, and the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and there's no way to fix it, no way to undo it, and he's going to have to kill the love of his life, and if this is his consolation prize, he's going to take it.

(Dean loves taking it.)

Dean will take it and he doesn't want to talk about it, and hey, apparently, neither does Cas, so that's peachy, that's perfect, and Dean shouldn't, but he does, and Cas lets him, and he does, right until Sam gets thrown into the pit, and Dean doesn't.

Cas' grace knits him together, once more, and then he's gone, and so is Dean.

 Two.

Cas comes back.

But he's more of a stranger than he'd ever been, even in that barn, what feels like a lifetime ago, and he won't talk, and sure as fuck won't listen, and his blue gaze when it meets Dean's is cool as lake water, as if Dean doesn't know what Cas sounds like, strung out of his mind with pleasure, from having Dean hold him down with a binding sigil and fuck him raw.

As if they'd never been friends, and perhaps they hadn't, that was just what it was like in the war, and the war was over, and so were they.

Cas is all impatience, and anger, and sullen resentment, brittle in a way that scares Dean if he really thinks about it, because it's Cas, and something's wrong, Dean can feel it deep in his bones, just like he knew with Sammy, but he—

Look, if Cas wants to reach him, he knows how to call.

But then it's too late (again) and there's a war (again, or it was never over, why is it never over), only this time it's Cas that Dean needs to kill, really kill, and fuck if he knows how, but in the end, all he can do is watch as Cas walks into the water, and all that's left of him is a stained, torn trenchcoat.

Dean keeps it.

He can't look at it, can't stand to, that entire year, but he keeps it.

And then Cas comes back (again), but then he's gone (again) and what had Dean expected, really?

And Dean's tired, ok, so tired, so tired and sick and done, and the war is still on—maybe he shouldn't have left Cas, maybe he should have tried harder, maybe he should have called, maybe it wouldn't have all gone to shit, if Dean hadn't screwed it up once again, hadn't failed—

 "Cas"  he says, squinting against the sun on his face, up at where Cas is perched on the roof of the Impala. "Why are you covered in bees?"

The air is filled with a humming that Dean's only 90% certain are the bees.

"They like me, Dean," says Cas, as though that were a reasonable explanation, and fuck knows, maybe it was, in that fucked up noodle of his. "They wanted me to stay with them."

Shit, fuck.

Dean rubs his hands over his eyes.

"You maybe want to come inside and talk?"

Crazy or not, they needed all the help they could—

Cas hops down from the car, and the bees rise up in an angry, buzzing cloud before settling back.

"Lose the bees first", says Dean, and then regrets it, when Cas stands before him naked as a new-born.

"Dude!" yelps Dean, "Come on! Where the fuck are your clothes?"

"I—", says Cas, sounding lost and forlorn as he stares down at himself. "I'm not sure. The bees didn't like them."

And fuck, like this, Dean can see that Cas is just skin and bone, pale skin stretched over prominent ribs, hip bones jutting out—

"Well, mojo them back from wherever you left them", Dean growls, "There's a sandwich in it for you."

Cas looks up, hopeful.

"Peanut butter?"

"Sure", says Dean and hopes to god the vending machine has  something that resembles a sandwich. "But get some.." he waves his hands, not looking at Cas, because it hurts to see him like this.

There's nothing like a sandwich in the machine, so he ends up instructing Cas to wait for him in the room while he makes a quick run to the nearest store. He picks up some orange juice and bananas while he's at it, along with the bread, peanut butter and jam.

"This is very kind of you, Dean" says Cas, as he sits (fully clothed, in his hospital scrubs and trenchcoat), his hands in his lap.

"So, what, you need to eat these days?" Dean queries. "You look like you've just spent six months on a fad diet".

Cas looks away, up at the ceiling.

"The grace is more useful for other things" he says, "There's so much to do. So many creatures in pain. I forget to."

"Listen", starts Dean, because he can guess where this is coming from, hell, it isn't like—

"Is my sandwich ready?"

Dean slides it across the table, and watches as Cas wolfs it down.

There's a bit of jam that gets stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Dean gestures at it, and then, when Cas looks confused, reaches out to—

Cas flinches.

Dean freezes, hand stuck awkwardly in mid-air, throat closing up.

He leans back, withdrawing his hand.

"You've got some jam smeared at the corner of your mouth, like a goddamned three year old, Cas".

"Oh", says Cas, and it vanishes.

Dean swallows the guess you don’t mind wasting your mojo on that then, that sits on his tongue, and Cas finishes his sandwich, suddenly quiet, staring down at his sandwich,  though it wasn't like he'd been saying anything before, but it's a different sort of quiet between them now, filled with all the things that Dean wants to scream at him, and can't.

Cas doesn't touch the bananas, but slurps the orange juice, loudly.

Dean watches as Cas licks his lips, tongue darting out to taste the last of it.

When he looks up, Cas is looking at him.

He feels his cheeks heat, caught out.

"You’re sweet", says Cas, suddenly. "Sweeter than all the honey in the world".

And before Dean can process it, he leans forward, brushing his lips against Dean's; a butterfly of a kiss, and then he's gone, in a quiet whoosh, and Dean's left alone, and when he wets his suddenly parched lips, he can taste the faint bitter-sour flavour of canned orange on them.

 One

Well, Dean's not making the same mistake twice.

There's no way he's gonna leave Cas behind.

Where's the angel, he asks, as he hacks his way through Purgatory, where's the angel?

Cas, he prays, c'mon man. Don't do this to me.

Cas, please.

Once he gets slashed by something, some kind of hellbreed that seemed half werewolf, half vampire, and it's pretty bad, but somehow he manages to lose them, holed up high up in cave he'd discovered in some time ago. The view's spectacular from the ridge or would be, if the hills and valleys and forests weren't teeming with things that were out for his blood, and Cas'.

He manages the staunch the bleeding. The gash isn't too deep after all, but he's gonna have to stay put for a couple of days. But then the chills start, and he thinks, shit, shit. Starting a fire is a sure way to get killed, no way he's gonna be able to take on anything more dangerous than a field mouse right now, and fuck, he's exhausted, suddenly, and ok, this wasn't good, the ground seemed to be rushing up to meet his face—

 He's warm.

Cocooned in the softest of embraces, safe, untouchable.

"Mom?" he whispers, "Is that you?"

A hand brushes over his forehead, light and gentle.

He struggles to open his eyes, which seem to be refusing to cooperate.

It's not mom.

"Cas" he rasps, bleary eyed, throat drier than a desert. "Cas?"

"Shh" says Cas, "You're safe now. Rest, Dean."

And it's true, Dean can feel it, cradled here in—Cas' wings, he thinks, sleepily, unable to hold on to the thought. Those are Cas' wings he can feel, sheltering, soft, warm.

"You found me", he mumbles, "I've been looking for you."

"Shhh", Cas rumbles, "Don't talk. It's alright."

"Cas."

A feather light press against his mouth, and then another, and then a third.

"I'm here", Cas whispers, "Dean. Rest now."

But when he wakes up, he's alone.

If it weren't for the healed gash, skin smooth and untouched, every aching muscle restored like he'd been checked into a fancy spa for a month, he'd have been certain he dreamt it.

Then they get topside, and he wishes it had only been a dream, and not one more thing he'd have to forget.

 (Plus One)

 Sam's here, finally.

Bobby had been right, time sure passed different around here.

Sam's here now, and it's perfect.

Almost.

Cas isn't around.

Or he's everywhere, but nowhere where Dean can see him, reach out and touch him.

When he asks around, he gets vague answers.

Ellen says, oh, I think Jack and Cas are in some other planetary system this week.

Two weeks later, by Dean's counting, Rufus says, you just missed him, boy, he was here helping fix my roof not half-hour ago.

Jack says, looking embarrassed, uh, I sent him on a mission, to, um, uh, Andromeda, and then, uh, I have to go, nice seeing you again, Dean, and vanishes before Dean can whup his ass for lying to his family.

Dean gets into the Impala; tells Sam he's got a supply run to make.

"You've got like a 100 cartons of beer, Dean",  says Sam.

"Not beer, Sammy."

Sam gives him a long look.

Dean shrugs, look, it wasn't like Sam didn't know.

Sam nods, once, lips quirking a little.

"Good luck, then" he says.

Dean flips a finger at him.

"C'mon, Baby" he says, as he pulls onto the road, "Take me to him."

 Baby's never let him down.

 Of course, Cas has gone and set his feathery ass down somewhere on the highest mountain that Dean has ever seen, the top of it half hidden in a swirl of clouds. There's only a narrow trail, no way to take Baby up, so he parks her under the shade of a leafy tree of some species he's pretty sure isn't found on earth, and shrugs off his jacket, wrapping it around his waist.

Jesus, but Cas could be a real dick, and it wasn't like Dean didn't already know that, but, wow.

 The trail is narrow, though not very steep, and the foliage dense for most parts, as he begins to climb. There's a river or a small waterfall somewhere, he can hear the sound of it, a muted roar. Up and up it goes, through plants and shrubs- or things that look like plants or shrubs, he can't be sure of anything here, he's realized. Occasionally, a small woodland creature of indeterminate origin will cross his path. Some of them stop and stare. One or two get experimentally close, while he stands as still as possible, and lets them acclimatize themselves to his scent. The foliage isn't dense enough to block out all sunlight, and every now and again the path will emerge onto an outcrop of rock and grass, probably intended as a rest-stop for the weary. Dean's only slightly out of breath, though the air gets cooler as he goes higher. But the sun is warm enough for a sheen of sweat to form, making his t shirt stick to his spine.

He sinks down onto a convenient grassy knoll and takes a few breaths. Clouds float lazily over the valley below, that stretches out farther than his eye can see. The river he's hearing winds through it, clear and blue, through acres and acres of green and violet, and brown and red. He turns his face up toward the sky.

Was it possible to get sunburn in Heaven?

Well, he was going to find out.

He turns his head a little.

He's about half way up the mountain, he estimates.

Given the position of the sun, he's been climbing about three hours.

Making me work for it, huh, buddy? Dick move, Cas, gotta tell you that.

Something rustles in the grass near him: a tiny grass snake, slim and green.

Snakes in paradise, wow, wasn't that theologically wrong or something?

But it gives him a beady eyed look and slithers over his outstretched palm and then away, unbothered, leaving behind a fleeting sense of dry leather.

Dean sighs.

"Cas?" he says, softly. "You're waiting for me, right?"

He doesn't know what he'll do if Cas isn't.

The thought makes his heart triphammer in his chest, fear gripping it.

What if he was too late, again?

But he's got to believe that he's right about this.

That he's here because Cas is ready, finally, to let Dean find him.

In those years after Purgatory, they'd never managed, somehow to make it work.

Every time Cas left—every time Cas came back—it got harder, somehow, to say, don't go, please, I need you, forgive me, stay.

Dean- he'd just become angrier and meaner, falling deeper and deeper and this was a grave that even Cas couldn't pull him out of. And then, when he'd been ready-almost—that second time in Purgatory, it had seemed like Cas wasn't ready, though surely, he knew, why else had he stopped Dean—

But the joke was on Dean, because Cas hadn't known, and then it had been too late. Cas was slipping through his fingers one more time, beatific in his joy, as he threw himself into the pit for Dean, and Dean had known, had known, that it was the last time.

 When it was all over, he had waited.

Hope was a thing with feathers.

He had waited for Jack to bring Cas back to them, to Dean.

But Jack hadn't.

No way that Jack hadn't sprung Cas from the Empty, there was just no fucking way that would have happened, so that meant that Cas didn't want to see Dean.

And alright, maybe Dean deserved that, maybe that was his penance, and he would do it, gladly.

He wouldn't complain, and he'd go through the rest of his life with a piece of him missing, and it was what it was, there were things you couldn't undo, there were sorrows that had to be borne.

On the bad days, after a hunt that went wrong- there were, after all, still some of those—he'd lie  in bed, every tendon and muscle and bone aching, and when he closed his eyes, he'd try to will himself back there, to that cave in Purgatory, the safety and comfort of Cas' shelter, and the sweet press of his lips against Dean's.

Sweeter than all the honey in the world.

 He blinks awake.

Apparently he'd taken a nap, though given that the sun was still steadily beating down on his face—and yes, you could get sunburn in heaven, thanks for nothing Jack—it hadn't been too long.

It takes another two hours, and he's almost giving up hope, wondering whether he's going to end up just spending the night alone on this mountain after all, when he breaks through a particularly dense grove and finds himself in a middle of a garden.

The garden- in flagrant, dizzying bloom around a cobbled stone path that leads to a small wooden cabin nestled against the wall of the mountain- has an occupant.

Dean feels like his breath was punched out of him.

My true form is as tall as the Chrysler building, Cas had once said, the lying liar that he was, because he's probably twice as tall. He's all iridescent wings that span twenty feet either side, and a dozen wheels spinning in different directions and something that looks like blue flames trailing the edges of his wings, and Dean is—

Jesus.

Cas turns toward him at that, and Dean senses his-shock?- before the almost unbearable brightness dims slowly, coalescing into a familiar shape.

"Not quite", says Cas. "Hello, Dean."

Dean's feet seem locked to the ground, and Cas doesn't make a move toward him either.

"Hi", Dean breathes out, the air rushing out of his lungs with the word. "Cas."

Cas has switched out the trenchcoat and suit for comfortable looking pair of white linen pants and a loose short tunic of sky blue, that match his eyes, and there's what looks like a week's worth of stubble along his jaw.

"Heaven can't afford a razor?" is what Dean says next, like the idiot he is.

Cas' eyes crinkle. "I've been told it makes me more attractive".

What, who- no- fuck.

Dean's already up in Cas' space before he realizes it.

"Who told you that?" he rasps, and up close he can see the flecks of grey in the stubble, and at Cas' temples, and yes, it made him breathtakingly hot, but damned if Dean was going to— "They were lying, just so you know."

Cas is smiling at him.

"Dean," he says, softly.

Dean reaches out to run a finger against his jaw, going against the grain, ends up with his fingers resting lightly against Cas' cheek, just under his ear.

"You’re a dick" he says, softly, "you know that?"

Cas nods.

"I've been" starts Dean, and then finds he's out of words, takes a shuddery breath instead, furiously trying to blink away the wetness in his eyes.

Cas's hands cup his face, warm and sure, and he draws Dean's forehead down to his.

"I know", Cas says, softly. "But I would do it again if it meant I saved you. I would do it all again."

"I should have told you," whispers Dean, "I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough."

"Dean", says Cas, softly, "You've always been enough."

Above them the sky starts turning a fiery orange as the first of the suns starts to set.

Cas' wings- which he hasn't tucked away- take on a metallic shine, but they feel warm, and safe, just like Dean remembers.

Dean kisses him, softly, once, then again, then again.

"Sweeter than all the honey in the world", he whispers, glad that there's nobody to hear this but Cas.

"You don't even like honey", says Cas, after a moment. "You never let Sam put any in your tea."

Dean draws back.

"You don’t remember", he accuses, genuinely horrified.

Cas' brows draw together in a frown.

"What?"

"You kissed me! And said—well you said what you said! Back in the day when you were all crazy!"

"Which time?"

Dean groans, thumping his head onto Cas' shoulder.

Cas buries his nose in Dean's hair and tucks him closer in his embrace.

"I remember" he confesses, quietly, after a moment. "But I thought you'd want to forget it."

"Cas", Dean, sighing, as he turns to nuzzle the soft, tender skin beneath Cas' ear, placing a small kiss there, as he presses closer. "Let's never talk about this again, ok?"

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

Content: fluff, angst, princess au, magic au

Summary: After being chosen as the ballot princess of 2021, Y/n finds herself in a throne ready to meet her future husband, the prince of the south.

Princesses have always been people I looked up to. I thought they were magical, beautiful and breathtaking not until I became one myself. Sitting in my ‘small’ throne compared to the king and queen’s, I sighed in dismay waiting for my prince to arrive.

Yes, it is the annual arranged marriage for ballot princessess.

You may be wondering why our kingdom doesn’t have actual heirs, or what a ballot princess even is, let me explain. The queen and king had a child eighteen years ago who then died because of a sickness, and because of a witches curse to our kingdom, the queen became infertile. To fill out the role of the heir, every five years a commoner turns into a princesses through a ballot. Picking a random name from a beautiful diamond box that changes one’s destiny.

That box changed mine.

My family was wealthy, ‘till we found out my father was in debt. The loan sharks came and killed him leaving me and my mother in poverty. We had no other option than to place my name in. Months later I was left breathless in black corsets and a small library in the palace as a way of freedom.

I haven’t seen my mom since.

“Please welcome Huang Renjun, the prince of the South.” The gigantic red doors open and comes in a charming prince. Well dressed, good-looking and evidently well mannered. Rumors were, he was the kindest prince out there and I was a lucky princess to be chosen as his partner. Yes, being friends with the maids helped me get through a lot, maybe even know things I wasn’t meant to know.

I stand with the queen and king, a feigned smile on my face.

“Your highnesses,” he speaks with his calm and soothing voice as he bends down with great gracefulness. “Welcome my dear,” the queen greets excitedly as she walks down to give him a hug. “This is your future wife,” she points towards me and the moment our eyes meet, I freeze.

He was breathtaking.

“Greetings my lady,” he smiles at me with kind eyes as he walks closer, bowing like a gentleman. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, as a response I bowed back to him but I couldn’t help but see the frown appearing on his face as he notices the way I reacted.

He knew something was wrong.

He knew I didn’t want to be here.

But beyond the feigned look on my face that he noticed so easily, he smiled wider.

“I’ll see you at tonight’s ball princess,” he speaks calmly as he lets go of my hand, bowing once more before he walked off with his guards and butlers.

___

I was wearing the kingdom’s colours for tonight’s ball. Emerald green, matte black and gold. While the queen and king settled for the matte black gowns and robes - as the ballot princess of the year I was given a handmade satin dress.

Fully emerald green with thin straps made of golden chains. It was cold against my shoulders - colder when they placed a silk black cape attached to the chain, one that dragged against the floor as I walked. The maids then came in and place a crown on my head, made with diamonds - the rarest one of the season.

I looked powerful.

I was there to portay one thing and one thing only, I looked exactly like the witch that cursed our kingdom looked when she casted the spell on us. It is to prove that even dark magic cannot stop us.

“You look beautiful my dear,” the queen opens her arms to engulf me in a warm embrace before she placed her hands on my hip, a cold metal pushing the satin dress hard on my skin. “That’s a knife, I’m gonna hide it right here,” she whispers in my ear as she locks the weapon in place.

There was a secret holder on my dress. That’s why I had to put the cape on, to make it less obvious. “Kill him,” she whispers as she pulls away, a very warm smile on her face. “What?” I asked in a whisper, my brows furrowing.

“You heard me right princess, kill him,” she replies - a big smile still on her face.

Before I could even react, the black double doors in front of me opened and the crowd down below started clapping for my entrance. “May I present to you, Princess Y/n,” I slowly walk into the ball room - the people making a pathway for me to walk past.

“Bow for the new princess of the south,” the band starts playing music, the sound of the piano, trumpets and cello echoed throughout the ballroom. Everybody bows. As everybody’s heads goes down only one stays up.

My future husband, Huang Renjun.

He walks towards me gracefully, the same smile on his face.

It was then I realised that though it reaches his eyes, it doesn’t reach his soul.

He wasn’t happy.

He didn’t want to be here.

Just like me.

_

The music finally goes louder and everybody’s back to dancing and feasting.

“Renjun,” I whisper his name as we connect in the dance floor. “Yes my princess,” he replies, his hands now resting on my waist. “Let’s runaway,” I whisper and he freezes.

Now were in the middle of the dance floor just staring at each other with everybody else dancing around us. “I know you don’t want to be here,” I continue, “Just get me out of the palace and we’ll go on our separate ways.”

“The only way to escape the palace is with magic,” he replies and I smile at him, pulling his body closer to mine and continuing to dance. My hand goes up his neck, then to his face, caressing his cheek. “Who said I didn’t have that?”

“What?” His brows furrow and instead of explaining, I decided to show.

“Who do you not like here, someone you loathe?” I ask with a smirk and his eyes immediately drew to the man across the room. His name was Junhui I believe, Wen Jenhui the prince of the east.

“Got a little grudge for the east prince hmm?” I ask and he nods. “Took the last kill on the 24th war when it was meant to be mine.” He grits his teeth and I chuckle. Still caressing his cheeks, I stop and snap my fingers. Seconds later someone screame

All eyes turn towards the woman, she was on her knees shaking Junhui awake, trying to bring him back. People come to help but halt when they realise his heart has stopped beating. “What’d you do?” Renjun asked, his brows now more furrowed than ever.

“Nothing special, just stopped his heart.” I smiled.

Palace helpers came to carry his body but before they could raise him up the ground, I snapped my fingers again. Junhui’s eyes open and he sits up abruptly...eyes bloodshot and breathing heavily.

Junhui was alive again.

“How?” Renjun whispers in my ear, his lips brushing against it.

“What am I dressed up as?” I ask and he answers confidently. “The witch of the north,” making me nod my head in agreement. “How ‘bout now?” I ask, snapping my fingers and in a blink my emerald green dress was now ruby red.

“The witch...of hell.”

His eyes widen in fear, his hands dropping down to his sides ready to run away but before he could, I raise my hands and whisper my spell.

Cold.

Empty.

Silent.

Dead.

Time has stopped.

Everyone in the room was frozen, except for him.

Huang Renjun sold his soul to the devil which was exactly why he stayed alive in the 24th war. It had its consequences and rules and the stupid prince did nothing but disobey them so I had to take him.

More like claim his soul.

Interlocking my fingers together, I say his name with a smirk.

“Hell welcomes you,” I whisper and his eyes widen. His legs, arms and lips were stuck together but he felt and saw everything.

“Say hi to them for me,” I chuckle as I watch as his soul leaves his body, the rest of him crumbling into pieces.

“Jeno!” I shout and comes in Lee Jeno in his crow form. “Change,” I command and he turns into human with a black suit on. After a twirl of my finger and a snap of my wrist he transformed in Renjun. The same face, clothes and body - just a different smirk on his face. “You’re gonna love it here,” I grin interlocking our arms together.

“Do the honors,” I say to him and he smiles, kissing me.

“Gladly,” Jeno snaps his fingers and the party continues.

The music plays as if nothing happened and there goes Junhui walking out the room with a look of confusion in his face.

We smirk.

“Well done.”

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

songs that make me think of vampy and why

this is for drea and leyla ONLY thank u

daylight- taylor swift "i don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you" bc vampy loves her so much he only wants her 😔 midnight love- girl in red "I know I'm the last one you try to call but I always give in to give you it all" "your silver is my gold" bc miss chiropractor treated him terribly but he loved her with everything and would have gone back to her no matter what watch you sleep- girl in red this one is obvious: bc vampy watches bloodbag sleep :) also "the scar on your spine, you fell off a roof when you were nine" is all appreciating the tiny details about someone and that is definitely something vampy would do :( paper rings: taylor swift "i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this" line without a hook- ricky montgomery "oh baby i am a wreck when i'm without you" bc vampy loves bloodbag so much he just wants to be with her always 😔 dead girl in the pool- girl in red this one is kinda weird but i feel like bloodbag is gonna die at some point and then vampy will just be like "theres a dead girl in the pool (or wherever her corpse is laying slfjskldfjkldsj) i don't know what to do" and then he's gonna make this face

bad habits- ed sheeran bc he was just slutting around before he met bloodbag demons- imagine dragons dont make fun of me for this I KNOW but fr it's vampy renegade- taylor swift "you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody" he needs bloodbag 😔 starting line- luke hemmings i can't really explain this one but it's like how you always talk about how his happiness is overshadowed by the fact that he's a monster or whatever million dollar bills - lorde "theres nothing i want but money and time" and vampy has literally all the money and time :) solar power- lorde this is harrys hot girl anthem idk happiness- taylor swift "there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you" this is him reminiscing on miss chiropractor i wanna get better-bleachers "i didn't know i was lonely til i saw your face" "I didn't know i was broken til i wanted to change" come on 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 good 4 u - olivia rodrigo this is his fuck u song for miss chiropractor my tears ricochet- taylor swift "if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake" it's ironic innit 😌 what a feeling- one direction "what a feeling to be right here beside you now, holding you in my arms" please 😔 "everybody needs someone around" 😔😔😔 "but i can't hold you too close now" bc he has severe attachment and commitment issues :) all you had to do was stay- taylor swift "had me in the palm of your hand, then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when i let you in" omg miss chiropractor really hurt him 😔 king of my heart- taylor swift "and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for" bloodbag @ vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 cruel summer- taylor swift "I love you ain't that the worst thing you ever heard" bc he knows getting close to bloodbag will ultimately only lead to pain for everyone involved "i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" bc he can't tell bloodbag everything about him even tho he probably wants to :( thank u next- arianna grande this is weird BUT if miss chiropractor hadn't fucked him up so much he never would have met bloodbag tear in my heart- 21 pilots again don't make fun of me for this I HAVE AN EXPLANATION "you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time but that's okay i'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine" if bloodbag fell asleep in his car he would definitely do this :( shape of you-ed sheeran "now my bedsheets smell like you" his room probably smells like honey and lavender all the time now and he's probably foaming at the mouth constantly cowboy in LA "let's skip the club, lets skip the crowd, i wanna take you on a date" bc they both hate clubs!!!!! "I'll hold your hand I'll hold the door bc that's how i was raised" he's a gentleman 😔😔😔😔 & burn- billie eilish "i'll sit and watch your car burn with the fire that you started in me, but you never came back to ask it out" idk for some reason this has vampy and miss chiropractor vibes take me to church- hozier religious trauma babes 🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼 speechless- dan+shay "i'm speechless, staring at you standing there in that dress" love 😔 yours- russel dickerson "i came to life when i first kissed you, the best me has his arms around you, you make me better than i was before, thank god i'm yours" SCREAMING AND CRYING AND SHAKING tolerate it- taylor swift "i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it" MISS ******** DIDN"T APPRECIATE OR CELEBRATE HIS LOVE MIA- anarbor "thinking about my life and everything i did wrong along the way"😔 lay low- josh turner for when bloodbag and vampy go to a cabin in the woods for a week and just love each other 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 who can save me now- anarbor "you stabbed me in the back" this one is pretty literal LSKFJLKSJFLKDSJ "you could have at least been kind enough to let me turn around" ouch 😔 dopamine- anarbor "i'm hooked on your dopamine" vampy and bloodbag ugh lie to me- 5sos this give me vampy and ******** vibes "i wish we never met, cause you're too hard to forget" "while i'm cleaning up your mess i know he's taking

off your dress" bc she probably cheated on him while they were together 😔 and he would have stayed with her if she told him she loved him, even if he knew it was a lie 😔 cotton candy- yungblud it's just a happy song with good vibes like bloodbag and vampy currently have :) small talk- niall horan i don't even have to say anything here pillowtalk- zayn "so we'll piss off the neighbors" chappy 9 vibes dancing with our hands tied- taylor swift "i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us" vampy rn 😔 once in a lifetime- one direction vampy will live a million lifetimes but he will only ever have one bloodbag 😔 holy ground- taylor swift "tonight i'm gonna dance for all that we've been through but I don't wanna dance if i'm not dancing with you" they've come so far omg 😔 since we're alone- niall horan "you can show me your heart, if you put it all in my hands no i swear no i won't break it apart" crying if i could fly- one direction "for your eyes only i'll show you my heart" rollercoaster- bleachers again i can't explain it but it makes me think of him 😔 so long- niall horan "so if we knew all along why did it take so long" good question bestie current location- LANY "i need your current location to be my current location" they're idiots in love and want to be together all the time 😔 why dont we go there- one direction "hey i don't want you to be the one that got away i wanna get addicted to you you're rushing through my mind i wanna feel the high i wanna be addicted" well hes already addicted to her blood so might as well like you lots- LANY bc they both have issues and can't say love lmao too much to ask- niall horan vampy though wanting love was too much to ask of miss chiropractor 😔 walking in the wind- one direction this one just has his vibes man 😔 heartbeat- carrie underwood "dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat" bc vampy is obsessed with listening to bloodbag's heart (fan behavior if you ask me) idfc- blackbear this is vampy and ******** bc "tell me that you love me even if it's fake" city of angels- 24kgoldn "i sold my soul to the devil for designer" yes this made me laugh the woods- olivver the kid "waking up in the middle of the woods" "don't you wanna get out of here, out of the woods" flashback to when he was dead in the woods oop "you brought me down to the river, and you pushed me in, hoping that the white rapids would challenge my ability to swim" bc... she's a murderer omg this verse is talking about leaves and i'm freaking out it fits 100% this is crazy "You pick up two handfuls You tell me they're all dried up & dead You know that's nothing like us We'll live forever instead" just a little bit of your heart- ariana grande vampy bc he loves so deeply and completely that he will give all of himself to someone even if they won't do the same my strange addiction- billie eilish bc he is addicted to her blood :) cross your mind- niall horan this is vampy and ******** "love the way you hurt me and it doesn't even cross your mind" "leaving me in pieces (literally lmao) but i swear it's worth it every time" everywhere- niall horan that scene where vampy smelled some perfume or soap or something and it made him think of bloodbag 😔 everything makes him think of her now 😔 "swear it's hard to think it's hard to breathe when you're in the air" put a little love on me- niall horan "you're the only one i need" 😔 bend the rules- niall horan VAMPY AND ******** ALL THE WAY "i'm not saying that you're lying but you're leaving out the truth" heartbreak weather- niall horan "all of my life i've been sleepwalk living, running around the same bars i've been in, it can be so lonely in this city, but it feels different when you're with me" bloodbag and vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 mr loverman- ricky montgomery "i miss my lover man" vampy is probably dramatic like this all the time now that they're official 😔 bad blood- taylor swift again, just for the irony 😌 vapor- 5sos "i want to breathe you in like a vapor i want to be the one you remember i want to feel

your love like the weather all over me" they're so in love like this 😔 catch fire- 5sos "all my life i've been waiting for moments to come" he's been waiting for bloodbag his entire life 😔 beside you-5sos "i wish i was beside you" they want to be together all the time 😔 black and white- niall horan "that first night i was standing at your door fumbling for your keys then i kissed you" ARE YOU KIDDING ME not in the same way- 5sos this is vampy and ******** just bc they were so toxic lkfjskldfjsdlkjf lonely heart-5sos "and i haven't slept in days" lmao ghost of you-5sos "my feet dont dance like they did with you" thinking about when vampy danced for bloodbag and what if they break up 👁️👁️ why wont you love me- 5sos vampy at ******** 😔 he just wanted to be loved 😔😔😔😔😔 fool's gold- one direction "i let you use me from the day that we first met" "i know your love's not real, but that's not the way it feels" STOP IM SAD last first kiss- one direction "let me be your last first kiss" i want them to be together forever 😔 truly madly deeply- one direction "foolishly completely falling and somehow you kicked all my walls in" bloodbag really snuck into his heart huh 😔 fireproof -one direction "nobody saves me baby the way you do" ugh 😔 long story short-taylor swift "clung to the nearest lips long story short it was the wrong guy" (or in vampy's case the wrong vampire) gold rush-taylor swift "and the coastal town we run around has never seen a love as pure as it" bloodbag and vampy are all i want 😔 no judgement- niall horan bc vampy would never judge bloodbag 😔 daddy issues- the neighborhood again im not even gonna say anything here new angel- niall horan "the touch of someone else to save me from myself" this is vampy 😔 god is a woman- ariana grande vampy after he brought bloodbag home the first time something like this- the chainsmokers "just something i can turn to, somebody i can kiss" ALL VAMPY WANTS IS LOVE sweater weather- the neighborhood idk this song makes me think of him all of me- john legend "all of me loves all of you all your curves and all your edges all your perfect imperfections" KSFLKSDJFKLDJSFLJSDKLFJDSKL i like me better- lauv "i like me better when i'm with you" she makes him a better person 😔 sex- eden "oh no, i think i'm catching feelings" vampy when bloodbag went on a date with someone else half a heart- one direction bc bloodbag completes him 😔 theyre so disgusting 😔 only angel- harry styles "turns out she's a devil in between the sheets" woman- harry styles vampy when she was on a date with someone else bc hes a jealous moron temporary fix- one direction this has chappy 1-2 vibes a.m.-one direction when they first started falling in love and he wanted to be with her more often 😔 something great- one direction "i want you here with me like how i pictured it so i don't have to keep imagining" through the dark- one direction just all of this song 😔 happily- one direction "you know i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleep i just want it to be you and i forever" 😔 electric love- borns "i can't let you go now that i got it" canyon moon- harry styles they're just happy like this rn 😔 sunflower vol. 6- harry styles "kiss in the kitchen like it's a dancefloor" "mouth full of toothpaste" when they brushed their teeth together 😔 adore you- harry styles obviously