#tw violence

[xxdrixx]

Daredevil: Born Again Season 1 Episode 05 - With Interest

for @parasocicle and @hopewearsglasses 💕

[iimplicitt]

🐴 ooh okay I’m here to infest your blog with max requests then. I come from Anna’s blog.

I have been wanting spy!max. What if reader gets caught in the crossfire as an innocent and Max had to intervene to save the reader. As a result he had to protect her and somewhere along the way he ended up falling for her

ENJOY THE SILENCE | MV1

pairings: spy! max verstappen x fem! reader

a/n-warnings: violence, blood, mentions of su!cide, criminal underworld, spy/government organizations, charles runs a crime syndicate, language, sherlock! inspo, slightly suggestive themes, hea!, if typos i apologize i’m out of it, collab with pookie @theonottsbxtch

wc: 9.9k

Leclerc.

A name whispered by few and not known by many unless they were involved in work God would frown upon.

Max leaned back in his chair, orchestral music swirling in the air along with light conversation and rich laughter. The banquet was still buzzing even though the hour began to run late. His fingers thrummed on the tablecloth, eyes flickering over the crowd.

Guards were posted at each entrance.

His eyes danced up to the terraces above. The police had men patrolling as well.

The night was still young and vulnerable.

Leclerc was a known terrorist. Or businessman. Same thing these days.

He was just a name. An idea. A phantom that lurked in shadows. Pulled strings. Swayed the market. Played a dirty hand in elections.

No face or even a voice could be attached to him.

He was like a Boogeyman, but far too real with drastic consequences.

Leclerc.

Men he had taken down over the years had screamed the name after Max had all but beat them into submission. Nearly half of them committing suicide right after. Fear for the infamous criminal greater than any other alternative.

A man who liked to play games. Toy with people.

Max had landed on his radar.

It seemed as if every big assignment he was put on, there were traces of him everywhere. Ties. Strings. Deaths all leading back to one man.

He swallowed the last dregs of his champagne as he watched the Prince of Monaco being escorted out of the ballroom. His instructions simple. Keep an eye out. Clear the trail.

Keep it clean.

Max stood, rolling his shoulders slightly as his suit adjusted around him. The smells of rich colognes and whiskeys wafting in the air, glittering diamonds winking at him from the chandelier lights.

He lingered off to the side as he existed, the cool night air hitting his skin and the heat from the earlier summer sun was still warm on the pavement. Max leaned against the wall, watching as a sleek car pulled up and the door was opened for the Prince.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a lighter and a cigarette, the sharp sound of the flame igniting greeted his ears and warm light bathed his face as he placed the tobacco between his lips. Breathing in, the rich nicotine provided a blanket over his nerves as he watched the car slowly roll away.

Max was about to walk off to get his bike to follow when something on top of a nearby building caught his eye. It was quick. A glint of something metallic. His eyes narrowed, adjusting to the darkness. He never ignored his intuition.

Slowly, he walked towards the building, sticking to the shadows and smoke slowly plumed into the air, pouring out of his nose as he kept a steady pace. Stalking. Each step careful.

When he saw the shadow quickly dart against the roof, he didn’t hesitate.

Tossing the cigarette, he made quick work down the street, his dress shoes sharp against the stone lined road, eyes following the figure.

Another glint of metal.

He darted to the side, the silent sound of a bullet biting through the air next to him not a second later. A silencer. Gunman. Hopefully only one. He could work with that.

Only issue is why hadn’t they taken the shot when the Prince was–

“Shit,” he whispered as he took off in a run again.

Another bullet grazed the air.

Max quickly rounded the corner of the building, he knew the angle would be difficult, If he could just get inside.

He ducked beneath windows he passed, about to turn under the awning when he ran directly into someone. Their startled scream knocked him slightly askew.

Worse, alerting the gunman where he was.

His eyes flicked down, taking note of the woman he had knocked over. Civilian by the looks of it, in a work uniform. His mind was running a mile a minute, reaching a hand down to quickly help you up and keep moving.

“You should leave,” he muttered, about to breeze past you and through the door.

“That’s what I was doing until you practically ran me over-”

A bullet ricocheted off the ground, shattering a window.

You screamed again and he tried his best not to roll his eyes as he took hold of your arm and yanked you inside of the building.

“What the fuck–”

“Be quiet,” he snapped, darkness swallowing them up in the hallway and he struggled to listen for any approaching footsteps over the sound of your rapid breathing.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Are you incapable of shutting up?” He bit.

You balked at him. “We were just shot at-”

“And we’re going to be again if you don’t be quiet.”

Even though it was dark he could read your expression easily. You wanted to slap him. He hoped your annoyance would overshadow the fear of the current situation, making you more compliant.

“Come on,” he whispered. Looking for somewhere you could hide. The last thing he needed was casualties.

Max was about to reach for a door handle to what he assumed was a closet when another bullet flew past him. He yanked you down, realising he wasn’t being that gentle but surely you wouldn’t care given someone was out to murder you both.

“Get inside,” he managed to say before he quickly got up, a person appearing from the shadows like a phantom deciding to finally make an appearance,

He dodged a punch, his own arm swinging out and managing to land a blow in the assailant's side.

Max barely resisted the grunt as his fist connected, already pivoting on the balls of his feet to avoid the counterstrike. The assailant recovered fast, swinging a knife in a tight, brutal arc. Max twisted, feeling the blade whisper past his ribs, slicing fabric but missing flesh.

Close. Too Close.

He liked this jacket, pity.

He grabbed the bastard’s wrist, yanking them forward, using their own momentum against them. A sharp twist. A pained snarl. The knife clattered to the floor.

The other man struck out in desperation, a wild jab aimed for Max’s ribs with another smaller knife he hadn’t seen. The glint of the blade flickering as it caught the light. Max deflected with a swift parry, stepping in close- too close. He could smell the sweat and gunpowder, see the flicker of uncertainty in the assailant’s eyes just before he drove his knee hard into his stomach. The man reeled back, breath stolen, shoulders heaving. He barely had time to blink as the man threw the knife with such force he could hear it rip through the air, lodging itself into Max’s thigh.

He grunted, clenching his teeth and ripped the knife out. It wasn’t deep but he’d need stitches.

Max didn’t give him time to recover. A sharp kick to the chest sent him crashing into a stack of wooden crates, the impact splitting the air with a satisfying crush. He began to get up, but Max rammed his head forward, headbutting him with years of practise. The bastard slumped. Unconscious. Thank fuck.

He stalked forward, quick on his feet and he kicked the man again for good measure. Mostly to make sure he was actually unconscious. Once satisfied, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest through tactical gear, Max reached down and yanked the balaclava up.

He couldn’t help but smile as he took in the man's features.

“So that’s who…” he whispered.

Max exhaled slowly as he stood, rolling his shoulders, the tension in his muscles easing. He wiped the blood from his knuckles against the front of his jacket, then-

Shit.

His haze snapped to you. You were still standing there, standing frozen in the doorway, eyes blown wide, breath uneven.

Of course you were. He should’ve known nothing was ever that simple.

“Right, move,” he said, already striding towards you. Ignoring the way warm blood was beginning to soak into his trousers.

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“We’re leaqving.”

“No, we’re not. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Max let out a slow breath, patience hanging by a thread. He could hear sirens in the distance. Time was short.

“You’ve got two choices,” he said, voice flat. “Walk, or I carry you.”

Your expression flickered with outrage. “You wouldn’t dare-”

He grabbed your wrist.

You fought him, really you tried, heels digging in, but Max was stronger, faster and had far less interest in arguing. With barely any effort, he hoisted you over his shoulder, ignoring the flurry of fists against his back.

“Put me down, you absolute-”

“Later.”

Max strode down the alley, barely registering the way you kicked and struggled against his grip. His focus was on getting the hell out before someone else decided to have another go at killing him.

He reached his sports bike - sleek, black, and built for speed - and dumped you onto the seat.

You immediately tried to slide off.

His hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist. “Stay.”

You glared at him. “I’m not a bloody dog.”

“No, but you’re a pain in my ass.” He leaned in slightly, voice low and edged with irritation. “That man back there wanted me dead. He’d want anyone who witnessed that dead.” He watched the fight in your eyes, the defiance, the disbelief. Then his gaze dropped to your uniform-blue scrubs, a name badge slightly askew. “Do you want to live another day to work at your…” He tilted his head “Your veterinary?”

You swallowed. Hard.

“Yes,” you muttered.

“Good.” He yanked a helmet over your head before you could argue, pulling the strap tight under your chin.

You smacked his hand away, “Get your hands off-”

“Hold on.”

“What?”

The engine roared to life as he revved the throttle.

“Hold. On.”

You barely had time to react before he twisted the grip, the bike surging forward, tyres screeching against the ground. You yelped, arms snapping around his waist as you two tore through the streets, wind whipping past you.

Max’s lips tugged back.

Sassy or not, you were holding on for dear life now.

The city blurred into a mess of neon and streetlights as Max weaved through traffic with the kind of precision that came from years of needing to be faster than the people trying to kill him. You clung onto him tight, despite all your earlier defiance, self-preservation had finally kicked in.

He kept the smirk to himself.

Good.

You tore through backstreets, out onto a motorway, and then further still, into the countryside where the roads were empty, dark, and winding. The roar of the engine echoed through the trees as he pushed the bike harder, faster, leaving everything behind in a blur of tarmac and moonlight.

You didn’t say a word, not that you could over the wind. He could feel you tense against him, probably still weighing up whether you had made the right decision getting on the bike in the first place.

Didn’t matter.

You were too far out from the city now to turn back.

The road narrowed, the air thickening with the scent of pine and earth. The stars were brighter out here, uninterrupted by streetlights. The bike tore though the last stretch of road, tyres crunching over gravel as you approached a villa nestled in the woods.

It was an old house, sprawling yet quiet, the kind of place that looked like it belonged in the Italian countryside rather than where you were. Ivy climbed the stone walls, warm lights glowed behind shuttered windows, and the scent of night blooming jasmine hung in the air.

Was this a safe house?

Is this what they looked like? If they were, the movies portrayed them incorrectly.

Max cut the engine. Silence crashed in.

For a long moment, you didn’t move. Then, slowly, you peeled yourself away from him, yanking the helmet off. Your hair was a mess, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

“What the fuck,” you breathed.

He swung a leg off the bike, shaking out his hands, rolling his shoulders like they hadn’t just spent the last however many kilometers nearly breaking the sound barrier.

You stared at him, then at the house, then back at him. The blood.

“What- Where- How-”

“Not a fan of full sentences, are you?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Where the fuck are we? Who are you?”

Max ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the house before looking back at you. “Safe.”

You let out a sharp laugh, disbelieving. “You just kidnapped me at God knows what speed, drove me to some random place. What even is this? Some murder house in the middle of nowhere?” You threw your arms out. “Where even are we? This isn’t even the same country anymore, is it?”

Max didn’t answer. He just walked past you, up towards the door.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, arsehole!”

He stopped at the entrance, casting you a glance over his shoulder.

“Are you coming in, or do you want to sleep in the woods?”

Your jaw clenched, “How do I know you aren’t going to kill me–”

He let out an exasperated breath. “I just saved your life, or did that escape your notice?”

Your jaw ticked, arms crossing over your chest. He tried to understand how confusing this probably was, but after so many years the effects of how dangerous his job actually was lost on him.

He continued to stare at you, sighing. “We’re in northern Italy. This is a safe house. You’re fine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Considering him. “Who are you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

You huffed, the puff of air making some of your hair fall in your face.

Slowly, like a wounded animal approaching, you made your way towards him, eyes flicking down to his leg. “Do you need help?”

Max raised a brow. You couldn’t seem to make up your mind. Half of you was terrified, the other sympathy towards his wounds.

“I’ll be fine.”

You raised your own brow, ever defiant as you came to a stop on the step right below him. The moonlight caught in your eyes as he stared down at you, seeing you properly for the first time.

You raised your chin, eyes dancing from his legs to his face. “I have medical training.”

“On animals, maybe.”

You sighed through your nose. “Fine, bleed out. Super glue your flesh together.” You shoved past him, entering in through the door with caution thrown in the wind.

He followed you inside, watching you carefully as you looked around. The interior was simple. Lightly decorated. Giving the impression it was lived in, but clean. A holiday home, maybe. In case anyone came looking.

Your fingers traced along the edge of an ornately carved table, catching his eyes in the mirror hung above the mantle of the fireplace. He was leaning in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed over his chest. Critiquing.

“Are you taking me back tomorrow? I have a life you know, people are going to wonder–”

“Sorry, but that’s not happening anytime soon.”

You paused, muscles coiling in tension. You then looked at him over your shoulder. “What am I then? A hostage?”

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “No,” how to word this? “Listen. that man we just encountered is more dangerous than you can even imagine.”

You turned. “Who is he?”

“You know the bombings that happened last month?”

You nodded, eyes going slightly wide. “That person was responsible? I thought it had been a suicide bombing?”

“It was made to look like one. But that poor man was a victim like everyone else. He was a pawn. A puzzle for the government to solve. Bombs strapped to his chest, and they’d be set off if we failed.”

“So, you work for the government? And you what? Failed? Failed what?”

“That’s the thing, we didn’t fail.”

“I don’t understand.”

Max walked over to the kitchen attached to the room, sitting himself down. He knew he needed to close the wound soon. Adrenaline was wearing off. “There was an earpiece the man was wearing, and he had been on the phone with us. We figured it out, what he wanted. The man was just supposed to tell us where he was so a bomb squad could get him but then…” he rubbed at his eyes. Exhaustion creeping in. “He started to describe him.”

Slowly, you approached. Eyes flicking down to his leg again. “Do you have a medical kit?”

Max debated for a moment, he wasn’t fond of people touching him. The most contact he got these days was dealt in punches. The pain pulsed, though, making him relent and he gestured to the cupboard under the sink.

When you came back, he felt a strange jump in his stomach. Like a rope was being yanked as you kneeled in front of him, your eyes focused on the contents of the box as you rummaged through it.

“What’d he say?” You asked, making him snap out of it.

“Not much. Didn’t even say what he looked like. Didn’t give a name. Just said his voice sounded so soft– and the line went dead.”

You paused as you slid sanitary gloves on, eyes going up to his and a crease formed between his brows. “Why’d the government put out a terrorist statement? Surely his family knows–”

Max shook his head, reaching his hands down to tear a large rip into his pants so you could get better access to his wound. “No, no one is supposed to know what’s actually happening. The real threat. Leclerc has been causing chaos across multiple countries' governments for years now, he’s just getting louder. He’s bored.”

“Leclerc? Is that his name?” You leaned, in, your warm breath softly brushed against his thigh, the dried blood feeling cold against his skin and he fought back as shiver as you pierced his flesh with the needle.

“Not many know of him. Barely anyone even knows what he looks like.”

You paused, looking at him. “But now we do.”

He nodded. “Thus, the safehouse.”

“What have you dragged me into?”

He smiled at her, though it wasn’t friendly. “Trust me, if I could be rid of you, I would leap at the opportunity.”

You yanked the wound closed a little harder than necessary and he winced. “The sentiment is shared, you prick. I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” he stood up, watching you lean back while you were still down on your knees. “You were in the way.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stared up at him. A challenge. Seeing who would cave first. His eyes traced the contours of your bent throat, up across your lips, to your angry gaze.

He sighed. “We’re stuck with each other, lieve. For the time being. He knows we’ve seen his face. He won’t be letting that go.”

“So, we just wait here?”

“No, we’re leaving tomorrow.” He stepped around you. Finally breaking the eye contact and he made his way down the hall, hearing you follow after him and cursing under your breath.

“What? But what about my–”

“I’ll have it handled, but we can’t stay here. Or anywhere for a long time, for that matter. Leclerc is powerful. He doesn’t just have money, he has blackmail. That’s enough to make any government topple.” Max turned, watching as you froze, eyes wide. Disassociating. Not being able to come to terms with your new reality.

He felt bad. A little, as much as he could manage. But this is what happened when people stumbled into his life. Everything gets ruined. Upturned.

‘What am I supposed to do?” You whispered, mostly talking to yourself.

Max walked up to you, his steps light. “Right now, you need to rest. There should be toiletries in the bathroom.”

You laughed, though it sounded more like a scoff. “Such a nice host.”

He bowed his head in mock virtue. “You’re welcome. I’ll wake you up.”

With that he turned, disappearing down the hall and shutting his door behind him. He needed to call Christian and let him know.

He was compromised.

–

You didn’t sleep. How were you supposed to? Your mind was spinning. Thinking about everything and nothing. Pacing the room in the dark, the moon glinting at you through the window. You had no idea what time it was. There was no clock, and you had lost your phone in the chaotic events that unfurled earlier.

You kept staring at your scrubs that lay in a neat, folded pile on the bed. Now adorning a too big shirt and baggy boxers you’d found in a drawer. You felt nauseous, a sense of foreboding as you stared at your work uniform with your name stitched onto the front packet. It felt like you were severing something. And maybe you were. Your life. Any sense of normalcy.

It didn’t feel real.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and you jumped, half expecting the strange man to barge in. It occurred to you that you never asked for his name. But after a few seconds passed, you realised he was waiting.

Swallowing thickly, you reached for the door handle and took a breath before opening it.

There he stood, mouth opening to say something but his eyes quickly took in your appearance, and if your mind wasn’t playing trick on you, you could’ve sworn his neck went a little red.

He then looked past you onto the bed, at the fabric of your past life. “Good, we need to burn it.”

“What?”

“Your name’s on it. Grab it and let's go.”

He began to walk away and you blinked at him. “I’m supposed to go out like this?”

He looked back at her, biting his cheek as he took in her bare legs. “It’s not like we’re going out in public. Now move.”

You wanted to throw something at his head, but you quickly slipped on your shoes and grabbed your scrubs. When you walked into the living room a fire was already going in the hearth with him kneeling in front of it.

He held out his hand, looking at you expectantly.

You held your breath, fingers tightening on the cloth for a moment before you finally handed it to him.

Feeling something break a bit inside of you as he tossed them in, the fabric beginning to char.

–

A week had passed, and he barely talked to you.

Max.

That was his name.

Not that he told you, he never told you anything. In fact, he avoided you like the plague.

Bits of information fell into your lap. Like his name as he talked to some man named Horner over the radio on the small private jet you had been on. Your eyes watching as he flew it with precision. His hands maneuvering over hundreds of controls as if it were muscle memory.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

This was your third relocation, somewhere in the Swiss Alps maybe, you didn’t know. You just sat curled cup with your chin resting on your knees by the window. Looking at the snow-covered mountains. Drawing patterns into the fogged-up mirror.

He felt like a ghost.

Or maybe you did. A presence he was wanting to pretend wasn’t there. Haunting him.

It’s not like you weren’t being taken care of. New clothes had been laid out, all in your size but you tended to op for the shirt you’d found that first night. Feeling like it was your last tether. When you woke up in the morning, breakfast was made. The fridge full. No note as to where he had gone. But you supposed the less you knew the better.

A few more days passed before there was a knock on your door again.

Time to go.

His eyes only met yours for a moment before he walked away.

–

It was late, the moon hanging high in the night and winking at him as he unlocked the door. But he paused as he realised there was loud noise coming from inside the house. 

Leaning forward, he realised it was music and his brows furrowed. You were usually asleep by then. He tried to plan his outings to avoid you. He was sure you didn’t want to be around him so it was a common courtesy. 

Walking inside, a song from the seventies was pouring through the speakers. If there were nearby houses there would surely be complaints, but they were tucked away in a large house resting on a mountain's edge in southern Mexico. Away from prying eyes or ears. 

His steps were quiet and light, though the beat was covering him well enough. 

Max passed by the kitchen, brow raising at the sight of an empty bottle of wine and the liquor cabinet doors were left open, bottles rummaged through. 

Christian was going to kill him. 

His feet carried him to the living room and he abruptly stopped when he caught sight of you. 

You were wearing his damned shirt again. A glass of wine in your hand, eyes closed as you swayed around. Singing along to whatever song you had put on. A drunken blush on your cheeks.

He couldn’t stop staring at you. A little dumbfounded at how carefree you looked. How relaxed. Hips swaying and a thoughtless smile on your lips. A daydream in the form of a woman. 

You turned, taking another sip of wine and your eyes caught his. He expected you to jump. Scream. 

Instead your eyes lit up, knocking him off balance. 

“Max!” You exclaimed, making your way over to him, your bare feet padding against the expensive rug. 

He blinked down at you as you came to a stop right in front of him. Closer than you had been in weeks. He had been keeping you at an arm's length for both your sakes. But with the mischievous glint in your eye he had a feeling that was going to crumble tonight.

“What are you doing?” He eventually managed to get out. 

You took another drink, your eyes locked on him as you did so. As you pulled the glass away, your lips were stained with wine. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Stealing.”

You raised a brow.

He gestured to your glass. “I don’t recall telling you the liquor was up for grabs.”

“Is it not?”

“No.”

You smiled. “That’s too bad.” And you finished off your glass, twirling around and walking to the coffee table where you had another bottle. Pouring yourself another one. 

He bit his cheek. Watching you. Cautious. Ignoring that weird tug he got in his stomach when he was around you. “You do realise how much that bottle costs?”

You shrugged, taking a drink “Not my problem.”

“Yeah, well it will be my problem if you run through every bottle in this house.”

“Careful Max, you sound aggravated.” You tsk-d, a playful smile tugging at your lips and he looked away as he leaned against the entryway. 

“I don’t get aggravated.”

“Really?” 

“Yep.”

He felt you approach. The smell of the shampoo you had used wafting around him paired with the wine. Enticing. Dangerous. 

You leaned into your hip, the grin on your lips anything but innocent. 

“I could push all your buttons right now if I wanted to.”

He flicked his eyes down to you, feeling a little breathless but he pushed onward. “No, you couldn’t actually–”

“I think actually I could.”

“No–”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“No,” he bit out your name, eyes narrowing at your growing grin. “If you would just–”

“I can’t seem to hear you.” He huffed as he watched you grab the remote and turn the music up louder.

“”Just listen to me–”

“I’m trying to listen to you–”

“I can tell–”

“So tell me,” the song ended, and they stared at one another. He’d gotten closer without realising it and you craned your neck back. Voice soft. “Is that making you mad?”

He clenched his jaw, eyes dancing from your mouth to your eyes. Slowly, the word left him. “No.” 

“No,” you whispered. With a hum you stepped back as the next song played, and before he realised it you had grabbed his wrist and pulled him further into the room. “Dance with me.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Your skin was warm against his and he felt his nerves go into a frenzy. Part of him wanted to tear himself away from you, the other half wanted to be more reckless. Hold on. 

Ridiculous. 

You frowned at him, though it was more of a drunken pout. 

He nearly frowned himself when you let go, your drunken mind getting caught up in the song, singing the lyrics and you closed your eyes. Stepping along with the beat to the Nancy Sinatra song that was pouring out into the room. 

Max lowered himself on the sofa, leaning back with an arm draped over the back as he watched you. He didn’t really know what to think. It was an odd predicament he found himself in. New territory that came with being hunted by Leclerc. He knew they were being trailed, though a bit slower than he expected. 

He was glad you weren’t curled up in fear, knowing he had upended your life by running into you on that night that seemed so long ago now. You were finding little ways to cheer yourself up. Every other night when he’d come home– to the safehouse– he’d find dishes or desserts you made. A note scrawled on top, Help yourself, followed by your first initial. 

Max’s eyes danced up your legs as you moved, watching how his shirt hung on your body, not liking how much he enjoyed seeing you in it. 

He knew this was reckless. Sitting there, watching you. Harmless from the outside, but he felt that tug again and he wasn’t pulling away from it. 

He knew he should get up. Walk away. Avoid you like he had been the past month. 

Max didn’t move. 

His eyes traced you like an obsessed artist. 

“Max,” you sighed, setting your glass down, but you stumbled. The alcohol rushed through your veins and he easily caught you, breath hitching as you fell into his lap. 

Eyes locked onto each other. Ensnared. Caught in a trap. 

Max swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by you. “I think it’s time you went to bed.”

‘Why?” Your voice was a whisper, breath fanning over his lips.

“Because I’m about to do something incredibly stupid.” 

Your eyes searched his, fingers twined in his shirt. Your grip tightened, leaning in, making his heart lurch, then you leaned back.

His hands slowly fell from your waist as you stood up, his fingers grazing your thighs. Dazed as you muttered a goodnight and walked away.

Max watched you go, alone and the music echoed.

One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.

–

You were haunting his dreams. Every night he seemed to wake up in a sweat, sheets pooling around his hips and he’d rub his eyes, forcing the images away. 

Reckless.

Stupid. 

He started joining you for dinner. Sitting at the counter, glass of whiskey in hand as he watched you move around the kitchen.

Wearing another shirt of his.

He gave it to you a week ago. Left it folded on your bed after you two had landed in Argentina.

Leclerc felt like an approaching shadow. He could feel the tick of the clock matching the beat of his heart. 

Closer and closer. 

Your fingers trailed along the nape of his neck as you walked behind him, setting down his plate. 

He shut his eyes.

He was slipping.

–

You lowered your book a bit, squinting against the sun despite the fact you were wearing sunglasses. The Miami sun unforgiving.

Max walked out onto the back patio and you watched him silently, scared that if you made a noise he’d retreat back into the house. He was always treading so carefully around you. 

You watched as he lifted his shirt over his head, his hair looking blond in the sun and his skin tan and corded with muscle. Swim shorts low on his hips. 

It seemed so… casual. 

You liked it. 

He dove into the pool, the water aquamarine and shimmering. 

Max broke the surface, shaking his head to rid himself of water and wiped at his eyes, looking at you over the ledge of the pool. He had a habit of staring when he thought you weren’t looking. It felt like a game of cat and mouse with him. Never knowing when he’d let go of his reins a little bit. He’d let you in a little bit but then would take five steps back.

What was he so scared of? 

He rested his arms on the edge of the pool. water beading up on his biceps and shoulders, eyes narrowing at you and you lowered your book, raising a brow. 

“Get in.”

You blinked and lowered your glasses down your nose. “What?”

“Get in, lieve.” 

Your brow furrowed. He called you that sometimes and you had no idea what it meant.

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.” 

Despite your scoff, you found yourself getting up anyway. His eyes watched you as you walked closer, each leg lowering into the water, goosebumps covering your flesh even though it was warm. 

The water wasn’t too deep, but you were still on your toes as you neared him, water dewed up on his lashes. His eyes glowing as he briefly looked at your mouth. 

Part of you was tempted to grab his neck and just say to hell with it. 

It was hard to breathe when he was around. 

–

They had only been in Rio for a few days. He didn’t know how you managed to convince him, but he found himself being dragged to a night club as the sun set behind the waves. 

It was idiotic. 

But seeing your smile as he caved made him reckless. 

The music was loud. The club dark, figures flickering in and out of focus as lights flashed. 

This really was a horrible idea. 

Your hand found his wrist, tugging him towards the dance floor but he didn’t budge. 

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Oh come on, live a little.”

He shook his head. “I’ll keep watch.” Max’s heart sank a little when he saw your expression falter a bit, clearly upset. But before he could even scramble for a response you dropped his arm and kept walking. Other bodies swept you up. 

Biting his cheek, he leaned back against the bar. Careful to keep an eye on you. On the entrance and exit. 

Ignoring that tug in his stomach. 

- 

You had a headache. One that was free of alcohol. You weren’t risking that tonight. 

Every now and again you’d catch Max’s eye, the stoney expression he always wore. Unreadable. 

It was infuriating. Exhausting. You felt like a fool. 

You were probably just lonely. Forcing something that wasn’t there. He was practically your keeper. Nothing more, nothing less. 

It almost felt like he always went out of his way to make that point. 

You could look all you wanted but that was it. Only fleeting touches and tense conversation. 

It was maddening. You felt like you were going insane. Imagining things with the way he was looking at you. 

Like he wanted you. 

Clearly he didn’t. 

You had no idea what he wanted. 

The music thrummed. Loud in your ears and making your heart lurch in your throat. You wanted to forget for a little while. Forget what your life had turned into, or lack thereof. 

Your hands were in the air, hips swaying, letting the crowd guide you. 

You spun, heels catching and you stumbled a bit but someone behind you caught you easily. 

The smell of rich cologne met you first and you turned, taken slightly aback from the man who was now standing in front of you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. 

And grinning lightly. 

At you. 

Dimples in his cheeks, blue eyes looking dark, and his brown hair was a mess. 

“Sorry,” you finally managed to spit out, blushing like an idiot. 

He shook his head, leaning down so you could hear him better. His voice soft. 

“You’re alright, darling.” He had a slight french accent and you returned his smile. 

Not denying that you liked the sudden attention you were getting. 

The moment was tense, his eyes not leaving yours as he took a step closer, a question in his gaze as his arm reached out and wrapped around your waist. 

You sucked in a breath. Debating. 

Your eyes trailed to where Max had been but he was gone, walking off somewhere. 

Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you looked back up at the handsome mystery man and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Permission. 

You knew exactly what he wanted. The reassurance felt nicer than it should’ve. 

You two began to move to the music, lights flashing and bodies pressed tight together. His voice low in your ear as his lips brushed against it. Making light conversation. Making you laugh. 

He was wickedly charming. 

He asked your name and you felt like you had to practically shout it over the music. 

“Yours?” You asked, feeling a bit dazed with the way he was looking at you. Shivering as one of his hands snaked up your back and into your hair, his other arm tightening around your waist. 

“Charles,” he spoke it into your mouth.

Lips colliding. Messy. Electric. 

God, you were touch starved. 

You practically melted into him as his tongue slid into your mouth. 

The taste of him strangely sweet.

-

After he had caught the sight of a shadow moving upstairs, he debated leaving you alone for a moment before deciding it was better to be safe than sorry. 

What he hadn’t been expecting as he looked over the upstairs railing, was to see you making out with someone. 

But it wasn’t just someone. 

His stomach dropped as the flickering lights shone over the man’s face. 

Leclerc. 

Just as he turned around a knee was suddenly being lodged into his diaphragm.

Max stumbled back, coughing violently. Barely having time to blink before he dodged another kick, this time a foot coming straight for his head. 

He quickly dodged, hooking his own arm out in an arc and landed a fist across the person face. 

Lights shone into the balcony and he caught sight of a woman, grunting as she wiped blood off her cheek. 

Fuck. 

He knew exactly who this was. 

Leclerc’s personal murder weapon. 

Ex-MI5. Now enemy of the state. 

She didn’t hesitate, darting forward, throwing another kick and as he went to block her, her hands gripped his shoulder and she swung up and around, cinching her legs around his neck. 

His head spun a bit from the force, adrenaline making him barely take notice of how she dug a knife somewhere in his back. 

Max’s hands flew up, grip tightening around her waist before slamming her down onto a near by table, knocking the wind out of her but her legs remained a vice around his neck. 

His hand shot out, putting his own death grip around her throat. Seeing red. 

She wheezed. Clawing at his hand, eyes going red and bleary. 

He grit his teeth as she grinned at him. 

“Been a while, babe.”

Max was about to just say fuck it and snap her neck when someone suddenly whistled. 

“Kinky, I like it.”

His eyes flicked to the side before widening. 

Leclerc was setting your unconscious body down on a nearby couch, your arm slipping from his shoulder and slumping to the side. 

He didn’t have much time to take in the smug expression Leclerc was wearing before there was a sharp blow to his skull. 

-

The second he was awake a sharp pain ricocheted around his skull, making him wince. 

He blinked a few times, eyes burning, trying to see in the low light provided only by a few lamps. 

The room was simple. Neat. A hotel maybe, given the carpet.

When he saw you, tied to a chair across from him, duck tape over your mouth with blood dripping down the side of your head, your eyes dilated in fear. 

He bit out your name, attempting to crawl to you out of sheer desperation before he realized his own hands were tied. 

The longer Max took in your fear stricken expression, he realised you weren’t even looking at him. But past his shoulder. 

Long legs were adorned by an expensive black suit and one ankle was perched up on the other knee. Italian leather graced his feet that looked as frightfully expensive as the black leather gloves that covered his long fingers, resting on the armrests of the chair. 

Leclerc looked painfully casual. 

Save for the cold look in his eyes and cruel smile on his lips. 

His blue eyes flicked down Max’s frame. An invisible string pulled at the corner of his lips as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Max clenched his jaw, looking at you, how your hair stuck to your sweat drenched skin. His eyes flicked back to Leclerc. 

“Why don’t you come here and find out?”

Leclerc laughed. Though it was more so an exhale of air and his own gaze drifted to you, making Max’s blood boil. 

The man hummed, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Max. 

“Charles Leclerc.” He let his name sit heavy in the air for a moment. “Hello,” the way he said it, almost in a sing-song voice… like their current situation was amusing. 

His eyes danced to you, and your confused expression. “Charles? From the club?” You continued to simply stare at him, blood crusting on your wounds and hummed. “Do I really make such a fleeting impression? That’s a shame. I rather enjoyed our kiss.”

Max thrashed against his restraints. 

“Easy now.” Leclerc tsk-d. He then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve given you a glimpse, Max. Just a small one. Of what I’m capable of.” Before Max could even think about what he was saying a red dot appeared on your forehead. 

He tried to turn around to see where it was coming from but he couldn’t move. Yanking against the rope but it was useless. 

Leclerc sighed, as if taking pity on him. 

“I’ve got a lot going on out there in the world. I’m a specialist, I suppose.” He raised his brows, gesturing to Max. “Like you.” 

“A consulting criminal,” Max bit. 

Leclerc shrugged. “Brilliant, isn’t it? No one ever gets to me.”

“I did.”

He hummed, “you’ve come the closest. Now you’re in my way.” 

“Thank you,” Max muttered, his anger making him reckless.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

“Yes, you did.”

Leclerc shrugged, smiling. Looking bashful. “Yeah, okay I did.” He then stood up, rolling his shoulders and fixing his cuff links. “But the flirtings over, Max. Daddy’s had enough now and there’s business to be done. I’ve shown you what I’m capable of. Remember the royal family fiasco? Oh, the princess. What a naughty girl.” He laughed. “Or when I drained the Vatican's vaults. All that money just to get you to come out and play.” 

He walked over to Max, looking down at him. “So take this as a friendly warning, mon cher.” Leclerc placed his hands in his pockets, unblinking as the next words slid out of his mouth like oil. “Back off.”

He stepped back, walking in a circle around your chair. “Although I’ll admit, it has been fun hasn’t it? This little game of ours.”

“People have died.”

“I hate to tell you this, but that’s what people do.” He then wound a hand in your hair and yanked your head back, smiling into your neck as a knife suddenly appeared in Leclerc’s hand, pressing it against your throat. His eyes flicked up, meeting Max’s rage filled expression. “Would you like a reminder of that?”

“I will kill you,” Max ground out. 

Leclerc leaned back, dropping the knife as if he was suddenly bored. His voice calm. “No you won’t.”

Max’s eyes drifted to you. “Are you alright?”

You were quiet. Deathly still. 

Leclerc leaned down, his lips dusting your ear. “You can talk, honey. Go ahead.” And he ripped off the tape. 

You winced. Voice cry and cracking. “I’m fine.” 

“See?” Leclerc leaned against the back of your chair. Hovering. A demon waiting to collect his bargain. “She’s a tough one, you know how to pick them. I’m a little envious, actually.” 

“What do you want?” Max snapped. Getting desperate. “Money? Missile plans?” 

Leclerc tapped his hands on the chair. Whistling. “Missile plans? Wow.” He acted like he was considering it but sighed. “Boring. I can get those anywhere.” He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and Max’s stomach sank as he watched you flinch. 

But then you suddenly threw your head back, ramming your head back into Leclerc’s nose and he stumbled, blood beginning to pour out and into his mouth. Staining his lips and teeth. 

He laughed, looking crazed as he made a weak attempt to wipe the crimson away. “Good, very good. She’s sweet, I can see why you like having her around. But then again, people do get so sentimental about their pets.” 

Max threw himself back, the wooden chair shattering below him and he darted forward, ignoring the pain and slamming Leclerc into the wall. Not caring as an array of red glowing dots covered his back. 

“Max!” you cried out, struggling against your restraints. 

Leclerc wouldn’t stop laughing. A mad man. “So touchy and loyal. Maybe you’re her pet.”

A bullet shot through the window and he heard you cry out as it grazed your leg.

Max threw himself back, raising his hands in the air. 

Leclerc smiled. “Gotcha.” He then smoothed down his suit, giving Max an offended look. “Armani, please be gentle with it.” He then sighed, tilting his head to the side. “Do you know what happens if you don’t leave me alone, Max? Hm?” He stepped forward, getting in his personal space. “Do you?”

“I get killed?”

“Kill you?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “No, no no. Don’t be so obvious. I mean yes I will kill you, eventually. But I don’t want to rush it. I want to save that for something special. Just you and I. But if you don’t stop prying,” his eyes drifted to you, smiling wistfully. “I will burn the heart out of you. And I’ll enjoy it.” He closed his eyes, as if savoring it. “Very much.” 

Leclerc began to step back, hands back in his pockets. Smirking. “Ciao, Max.”

And he left out the door.

-

Max was being so delicate with you, you wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both. 

Tremors still ran through your body. Mostly in shock. You couldn’t believe how stupid you had been. You almost got Max and yourself killed and for what? A night out—

“It’s not your fault.” Max said as he wiped away the blood on your leg, his stitches clean and your heart tugged. All those times you fixed his wounds and he let you. He didn’t need to. He knew how to do it. 

“I should’ve listened to you the first time.” You whispered, watching how bruises already began to bloom across your leg from where the bullet had grazed you. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Simply staring at you before his hands gently reached out, cupping your face to tilt your head down and he pressed a light kiss to your freshly washed hair. 

He’d cleaned you up. Nothing about it felt remotely sexual. Just… comforting. Letting you know that he had you. You didn’t have the energy to feel even an ounce of embarrassment that he had finally seen you naked. 

“It’s not your fault,” Max repeated. 

You shut your eyes, leaning into him and his arms slowly wrapped around you in a hug as he stood between your legs as they dangled off the sink. 

You hugged him back in your own time, finding comfort in his warmth and you sighed. Wondering who you had pisssed off in your past life to end up here. 

“Do you think it’s over?”

Max traced light circles into your back. You were wearing another shirt of his. 

Eventually you felt him shake his head. “No,” he said quietly. “Not until he’s dead. But even then, it might take months or even years to dismantle his network.”

You clenched your jaw. Your new reality sinking in. Leaning your head back, you looked up at him. “What do we do now?”

One of his hands reached up, the rough skin of his palm a comfort as he cupped your jaw, his thumb lightly running over your cheekbone. He looked lost. These were new waters, even for him. 

“What we’ve been doing.”

“Biding our time?”

He shook his head, eyes flicking to your mouth. 

“Being patient.”

-

The Shanghai safe house was quiet. Too quiet.

Max shoved the door open, blood dripping from the gash on his cheekbone. His T-shirt clung to him, damp from sweat, and his hands were sore from throwing too many punches and landing too few. His head ached, and he wanted nothing more than to shower and sleep. 

This was what he got for wanting to train against his teammate - his teammate that hadn’t missed a singular training session while Max was jetting off from country to country evading Leclerc.

But training was more important now than it had ever been now that Leclerc was a constant weight on his mind. Eventually, he’d start training you as well. He wanted you to be able to protect yourself if he wasn’t there. 

He’d kill himself if a repeat of Rio happened. 

You were perched on the kitchen counter, legs swinging lazily, his oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder. You had a glass of water in your hand, but you weren't drinking it—just watching him.

Your gaze flicked to his face. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing.” He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his skin.

You exhaled sharply, hopping down to pull the first aid kit from the cabinet. “Sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Max.”

He didn’t stop walking. Didn’t look at you. Just strode towards the bathroom, already pulling his shirt over his head. All he wanted was a shower.

“Fine.”

The word was clipped, laced with something unreadable, and it made him stop. He turned back, brow furrowing as he watched you push herself back onto the counter, setting the first aid kit beside you. Then you just… waited.

No arguing. No chasing him down. Just waiting.

His jaw tightened. His fists curled.

And then, before he could talk himself out of it, he stepped between your knees.

You were already reaching for him, fingers cool as they cupped his jaw, tilting his face to the light. He let out a slow, steady breath as you pressed a damp cloth to the cut, the sting sharp but distant compared to the warmth of you between his arms.

You were focused, careful. Too careful.

He swallowed. “You don’t have to—”

“Shut up.”

His lips twitched despite himself.

Your thumb brushed his cheek as you adjusted your grip, and then—just for a second—your breath caught.

He felt it. Saw it.

You hesitated, your fingers stilling against his skin.

He looked down.

You weren't breathing. Not properly. Not anymore.

Your eyes darted to his mouth. Just for a second. But he caught that, too.

His hands flexed against the counter’s edge.

Silence.

Something thick. Something unspoken.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you broke.

But something had just snapped.

And there was no coming back from it.

His grip on the counter tightened.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stared at you, feeling the weight of something shift between you—something heavy, something inevitable.

When had this started?

The first safe house? The second? Or had it been there from the moment he dragged you into this mess, when you clung to him on the back of the bike, shaking but unbroken?

You were still looking at him, your fingers trembling just slightly against his skin. Your lips parted like you were about to say something, but nothing came out.

He wondered when you’d last been with someone. When someone had last touched you like this. When you’d last let them.

Max rolled his jaw as he thought about Leclerc that night in Rio. How he has managed to get his hands on you. His mouth. Charles, he had called himself. 

He saw black for a moment and shoved the memory away. 

His mind flicked back to himself, to the months of running, of waiting, of trying to force this thing between you into something manageable. It had been over a year since he’d had a moment to himself, since he’d even considered wanting something outside of the mission, of survival.

But now—right now—he couldn’t think about anything else.

Then you moved.

Slowly, carefully—giving him time to stop you.

He didn’t.

Your lips brushed his, just barely. A whisper of a kiss. A question.

And he almost answered. Almost let himself sink into it.

But then he pulled away.

Your hand dropped from his face instantly, the space between you rushing back in like a cold slap.

“Shit,” you whispered, pulling back. “I—”

He saw it in your eyes before you even said it. The regret. The walls slamming back up.

“I shouldn’t have—”

He surged forward.

No hesitation this time. No space left to second-guess.

His hand caught your jaw, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he crushed his mouth to yours. Nothing soft. Nothing tentative. Seven months of waiting, of fighting it, of pretending he didn’t feel you in every room, in every breath—poured into one kiss.

You gasped against him, your hands flying to his shoulders, but he didn’t let you pull away. Didn’t let you think.

His other hand gripped your thigh, pulling you closer, and you melted against him—just for a second—before you kissed him back just as hard.

Your nails dug into his arms, his teeth scraped your ower lip, and then it was all hands and heat and need. No more distance. No more games.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan into your mouth, and he answered by dragging you forward on the counter until there was nothing left between you.

He could feel your breath hitch again, just like before. Only this time, you didn’t pull away.

This time, neither of you did.

And there was no pretending this hadn’t just changed everything.

His hand slid up, fingers curling lightly around your throat. Not squeezing—just enough for you to feel it, to know he could.

You let out a sound, soft and breathy, barely even real—except it was, because he felt it against his lips.

A fucking moan.

His grip tightened just slightly, his own breath catching in his chest.

And then—he smirked.

You wanted this. Badly. He could feel it in the way you were clinging to him, in the way your legs tightened around his hips, in the way you practically melted into his hands.

So he pulled back.

Just enough to make you whimper at the loss of him, just enough to see your lips part in something dangerously close to frustration.

Your eyes flicked open, dazed, hazy with it. “Max,” you breathed.

He raised a brow, deliberately slow, deliberately smug.

“Not fair,” you muttered, voice edged with irritation, your chest still rising and falling too fast.

No, it wasn’t. But it was fun.

Then something shifted in your expression—something sharp, something knowing.

Your lips twitched. “Fine,”you she said lightly, fingers sliding up his chest, nails scraping just enough to make him feel it. “My turn.”

Before he could react, you moved.

You tilted your head, brushing your lips along his jaw, feather-light, barely there. Your hands trailed lower, over the tense muscles of his stomach, your nails pressing just enough to make his pulse hammer.

His breath hissed through his teeth.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, teasing, taunting, and then pulled back just slightly, waiting. Daring him.

His patience snapped.

His hand shot back to your throat, fingers tightening as he pushed forward, crashing his mouth to yours.

This wasn’t careful anymore. Wasn’t measured.

This was hunger. Months of it.

You gasped against him, but he didn’t let you speak. Didn’t let you do anything but feel him, take him, match him.

He bit your lip. You tugged his hair. He swallowed every sound you made, kissed you like he was trying to take the air from your lungs, like he was trying to burn through every second you’d wasted not doing this.

You gripped his shoulders, dragging him closer, but it wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough.

He lifted you, dragged you against him, let himself lose control in a way he never did, never allowed, because nothing had ever felt like this before.

The way he kissed you, it was like he wanted to wipe that smug little smirk off your face, like he wanted to remind you exactly who was in control here. But the truth was, he wasn’t. Not anymore.

Your hands were in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your mouth, and he answered by pressing you back against the wall of the kitchen, swallowing every sound you made.

Your legs tightened around him. He could feel your heartbeat, rapid against his chest, matching his own.

Another kiss, deeper this time. Another sharp intake of breath.

Then finally—finally—he forced himself to pull back, just enough to see your face, to watch the way your lips were swollen, your breath uneven, your pupils blown wide.

You blinked up at him, dazed.

And then—

“Wow.”

A breathless laugh escaped you, and his lips twitched.

“If I’d known you could kiss that well,” you murmured, your fingers still tangled in his hair, “I would’ve done it in Italy.”

His brow lifted, his hands still braced against the counter on either side of you. “Italy?”

You smiled. “When you said you needed to burn my uniform. Something about that all black ensemble made me feel something.”

His jaw tensed. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

That night, the dim glow of the chandeliers, the fire in front of them, the warmth of the room.

He had wanted to shoot himself in the foot for thinking of her in ways he shouldn’t have.

And now you were telling him you’d thought about this then?

His fingers curled against the wood. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered.

You tilted your head, all mock innocence. “Am I?”

His hands shot back to your thighs, dragging you forward, forcing another gasp from your lips as he leaned in close, his mouth hovering over you.

“You have no idea,” he murmured.

tag list: @dragonfly047 @lovehollandy12 @moofilms @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy (let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!)

[shaykai]

Hypothetical sibling bonding time

[emziess]

Criminal Minds - S01E01 - Extreme Aggressor

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 14

Author's Notes: Hey, loves, I've said it before but just in case, I'll say it again. Sorry for the delay. Stuff happened, health was bad, jobs were quit, unemployment was a pain, hospitals were visited for various reasons, and overall, last year was one of the worst years of my life. I'm glad I can be back, and while I still can't write as fast as I used to, I should be getting works out once again. Thank you all for your patience, thank you all for still reading after all this time, thank you for being here, even with the fandom dying. I love you all. <3

Warnings: Blood Mention, fantasy fighting and violence. As Always, Read Safely.

Word Count: 7,406

Previous Chapter Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

An Unexpected Guardian Angel

------

If there was one thing you hated most about the human known to most demons as Pride, it was his utterly infuriating, deeply disturbing- almost creepy- nature of being infallible. Being so small, you’d think you’d have the little- pun not intended- joys of being able to spot scratches in the furniture or some stray coins on the floor or something. Anything to smugly be able to prove his failures. But no. There wasn’t so much as a dust bunny under the cover of furniture. It only made you all the more frustrated. Not only that, but he had apparently an angel’s level of focus. No distraction you had tried would get him to leave his path of patrol around his home office. And at this point, you had done everything you were capable of. Unplugging lamps, checking…other cords… Okay, so maybe that’s all you had done, but what else were you expected to do?! Moving from his bag to under one of the lounge chairs had been hard enough as is. If you made too much noise or made him suspicious, he would start looking around! Getting caught would ruin everything.

You were weaker than you ever had been, not even able to push the furniture an inch. Getting out without being spotted was surely an impossible task. This room had you trapped. But time was ticking, the longer you paced back and forth, the more Beel’s potential danger increased. There was only one thing you could hope for. That Mammon or Levi would come help you.

Feet stopped pacing. Hope for human help? Was that really what you had just thought? Well, they did prove themselves somewhat dependable in the game world. Still, it wasn’t like you to just think something like that so naturally. No matter how helpless this seemed, you would have to rely on your own actions to get yourself out of this. Think. The door would be too dangerous to try. Not only would jumping or crawling up to the knob be noisy, but the doorway was right in Lucifer’s line of sight. Was there another exit you could take? Based off the slight breeze in the room, there should be an open window.

Slinking from one end of the couch to the other, you followed the rays of natural light back to the window pane. Closed. But that made no sense. You could feel air shifting around the room. If it wasn’t coming from the window, then where? Staying as hidden as possible, you moved around the border of the room, trying to follow the breeze. Eventually, you spotted a strange sort of…cage attached to the floor? Slanted metal bars covered a small part of the ground. The air was coming through there, you could feel it. You had your questions on what it was, but you could always figure it out later. Surely it had to lead outside, or at least somewhere else other than here. From this angle too, if you were very careful, the human’s gaze would be shielded from the screen.

Jogging over quietly, you knelt at the bars. With all your might, you pulled at one of the slates, working on bending it enough to let you through. Nothing. Something like this would normally be easy… After you caught your breath, you noticed a round metal half-dome with a divot in the middle. It served to fasten the bars in place. Your fingers grasped at it. It was awkward to hold onto… You jammed a few of your fingers and claws into the mid-section, and started to twist. Strength was leaving you more every second, sweat beading down your face as you pulled hard enough to leave your fingers and hands raw. But you felt a little bit of it give way. Fueled by a stubbornness best befitting humans, you exuded more strength than you should’ve had to fully twist the fastening out of the ground. Setting it quietly aside, you pushed the metal cover over enough just to slip underneath.

Free at last. All you had to do was follow this path down and straight to the outside… Wait, branching paths? Which was the right way? What was this metal maze?… Keeping your movement quiet, you wandered around until you saw some more light. Unfortunately, it wasn’t light to outside, but to another room. Barred by another gate. The more you moved on, the more you realized you didn't exactly escape, just extended the walls of your prison. Every potential way out was blocked, and there was no way to work on the bars on the other end. Now what?…

Hold on. If this led to different rooms, could it lead to every room? And wasn’t there someone you knew that holed up in their room more often than not?

With your new mission accepted, you hurried with a bit more purpose.

At just a glance, it was difficult to tell if his room was occupied. Your sequestered vision only gave you an open view of his bed which was empty. He also enjoyed keeping the room as dim as the Devildom, which you had to wonder if it was partially to blame for his rather consistent squinty expression.

Luckily, you didn’t need just sight to determine if the human was there or not, for sound was the biggest factor. If you were learning anything about this human in particular, it was discovering that he was almost always accompanied by a nearly never-ending curse of clacking. Clicky-clacky, tippy-tappy, for hours on end, whether it was fingers on keys or screens or buttons, or simply nervous tapping. Even in here you could hear it. In fact, this chamber appeared to amplify it.

“Levi!” You hissed quietly, still in stealth mode. No response. Either your voice was a lot quieter being tiny or he had his headphones on. You would actually put money down Mammon style on it being both. Just to give it a bit of a test, you raised your voice loudly, trying to propel it up into the room. “Hey!” Crickets. Well, this is what you got for expecting a human to save you. Now what?… There had to be some way to get his attention… If only there was something you could throw. For a while, you paced back and forth, shoes clattering in this metal labyrinth.

That was it!

You had briefly thought of it in Lucifer’s office, but dismissed it for fear of him discovering your secret from your shrunken shoe. But that wouldn’t have to be a fear here. Even if someone else saw it in Levi’s room, they’d just consider it an accessory to one of his many statue things, whatever they were called. Slipping both off, you shifted your body into a proper place. If only you could hit him from here, but unfortunately you were reserved to only be able to see the corner his bed was in. What to aim for to get his attention? And what would be easiest? You only had two chances after all.

After much consideration, you settled all your chips on a small orange tinted bottle. It looked mostly empty, making it relatively easy to knock over, and the few small objects inside would hopefully make enough noise to get his attention. It was your best bet. A few blinks cleared up the dust in your eyes. A deep breath. A heavy swing hucked one of your shoes out past the metal grate and towards the nightstand. It arched through the air, and struck your target. Yes! The bottle wobbled and fell. It hit its side… and rolled away from the edge. No! It would be so much harder to knock off now…

Now what? Maybe you could bounce your last shoe off of… No, that wouldn’t really work. The lamp? No, you already determined trying to hit the button would be far too risky to be worth it.

In the middle of your rather panicked calculations, a hinge’s squeak echoed through the room. “Yo,” was the word that followed heavy footsteps. There was hope!

“What do you want, Mammon? I’m in the middle of something…”

“You seen MC today? I’ve looked around, and I can’t find ‘em. You don’t…think something happened, do you?”

Levi didn’t respond for a while, the silence the hint to his focus on other things. After a little bit, he sighed. The clacking took a brief pause. “Say that again? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t take it personal! I had thirty seconds left to beat that challenge! Just say it again!”

When Mammon spoke next, it was in a grumbling tone. “It’s MC, dammit. They’re not here.”

“Well… I mean, just because we have pacts, doesn’t mean they have to be attached to our hips 24/7.”

Some flustered stammering followed that. “T-That’s not what I was gettin’ at! Besides, they should’ve said where they were going! I thought that boss/lordy type said that we had to keep an eye on them. MC agreed and all.”

Levi scoffed a bit, almost mocking his brother. “You mean the Prince? And did you really think they listened? They made the same face you always do when Lucifer tells you to clean the bathroom or do the dishes. The only thing different was they didn’t say ‘yeah, yeah, I hear ya’ like you normally do.”

For some reason, you were filled with sudden indignation at being compared so casually to a lazy Mammon. As the two of them started a brand new argument, you turned and prepared to throw your last shoe towards the voices. The metal was angled in such a way where you couldn’t see that side of the room hardly at all, but you didn’t care. Maybe you were being influenced too much by some desperation and emotion, but with the power of a small angry demon, you launched the shoe outwards, imagining beaning Mammon right in the back of the head.

“Ow!”

Sometimes you were too good.

“The hell’d you do?!”

“Don’t look at me!”

The two of them suddenly got really quiet, thinking at their own pace, but both eventually coming to the same conclusion. “Pssst,” Mammon hissed. “MC?”

“You don’t have to whisper, idiot, we’re the only ones in here.”

“Hey, ya’ never know!”

At this point, you should’ve probably been flailing your arms or shouting or any other normal action to set you free. However, now that you were moments away from being rescued, you were…hesitant. You really didn’t want to be seen like this… Were the three realms testing you or something? How else could you explain having to go through something so cruel?… But you couldn’t stay in here. The sheer amount of dust alone was burning your windpipe. Besides, how could you berate Lucifer if you weren’t willing to swallow your own pride when it was needed? Time to face the inevitable. Pulling yourself up a little, you waved an arm out from your spot. “Hey! Over here!”

The footsteps got closer, and you could see both humans look around for you. Mammon even had his hands held out to see if he could feel you first. “Why’re you hidin’? What’s wrong?”

You muttered ancient curses under your breath before trying to make your voice a little louder. “No! Look down! Down here!” The amount of time it took two grown humans to notice your incessant waving was far too embarrassing to recount. Maybe all your worries about being spotted by Lucifer weren’t as pressing as you first assumed.

Both of them knelt by the grate, a mix of confusion and…some other emotion you couldn’t trace was painted over their faces. Something about it irked you, though. Almost like they were sneering at you, but if it was done in a nicer way. “MC?” Levi had to ask.

“Do I look like someone else?! Get me out of here!”

Mammon took his turn to ask silly questions. “I didn’t know you could do that! Can you grow super huge too?” While he wondered that, Levi stood and apparently went off to get something to help you free.

“No!”

“What else can you do besides cloak and shrink then?”

“I can’t! This was—“

“So… This isn’t some freaky magic stuff?”

Oh, if only you weren’t so tiny, the things you would do. “No!”

“But, you can do that thing with the tail, and the horns and the teeth. You sure ya’ can’t just make yourself big again? Just try chantin’ a spell or somethin’.”

This was a headache… Taking a deep breath, gathering up your composure and urges to sink your teeth into the nearest object, you rubbed your face with both hands. “No, Mammon. I can’t… Trust me. I tried.”

The human you were addressing was seriously trying to rack his brain coming up with a solution despite only discovering magic even existed all too recently. It was cute, but a guessing game you did not have time to entertain.

Levi finally came back into view, holding a tool in his hand to get the cover off this cage. “Maybe it’s less of a skill and more like a curse?”

For a second, you almost disagreed again. Then you had to agree. That angel cursed you. “Something like that…”

After a few moments, you were finally free. You hopped up, coughing up a bit of dust as you tried to purposefully ignore the two looming figures. This pride to swallow was a bitter one. Not to mention, before you could even fully catch your bearings, the floor beneath you took a new form as it scooped around you and held you above the solid ground. It was dizzying being moved like this, catching yourself from falling backwards by moving to a quick kneeling position.

“Look’a that. You’re, like, the size of my palm.” Greed was in wonder- almost enamored- at the sight of you like this apparently. Like you were a shiny gem he was seconds away from pocketing.

The other one was occupied with trying to remove most of the dust from off your body with a very tiny brush. It was humiliating enough being this size without your usual magic or strength, but being taken care of by humans of all things… This was a new low for you. A sudden shudder down your spine made your body twitch. It was like all your nerves seized and sparked. With a quick bat of your hand, you pushed the soft bristles away from your horns. You had to quickly clear your throat and take control of this rapidly devolving situation.

“Listen, we can fix the size issue later! We have so many things going wrong at once, I don’t even know where to start!” Well, actually, yes you did, there was one thing of importance above all else. “Beel could be in danger! Stop fussing over me for one second and listen!”

That made this whole scenario a lot less entertaining. Both their faces went pale. Levi seemed lost for words. Mammon however, got serious in an instant. “What happened?”

You caught them up to speed with what happened last night starting from catching Beel slipping out of the house in the cover of dark, and ending with your shrunken adventure from Lucifer’s office to all the way here. The younger of the two humans got his voice back. “So this is, like, really terrible, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Beel is missing and Lucifer is about to find us out at any moment!” Exhausted from this all, you resigned yourself to fully sit back in Mammon’s hand. “Why does everything go so wrong so fast? It’s like I’m being tortured…” Not even a few days had passed since resolving the last incident before something was on the border of collapse again. Centuries were being shaved off of your long life. “We have to leave now!”

Mammon was already heading towards the door, shoeless and in only a tank-top and shorts. Before he could do that, Levi grabbed his arm. “H-Hold on, for just a moment.”

“Beel could be a walking popcorn chicken right now, and you wanna wait?! Screw that!”

The brewings of a bickering were starting to form, but Levi took a deep breath. “We just need a game plan, even if it’s a small one! If we go rushing in, this is bound to turn out like all the other harebrained schemes!”

“Harebrained?!” You and Mammon bristled at the same time.

“You’re far too impulsive and don’t think!” The human pointed at his older brother, then swung down at you, opening his mouth before hesitating when he caught the glowering look you gave him. “And you… d-don’t quite have human- uh- common se- instincts!” He was sweating with the moment of your raised eyebrows. “Yeah, human instincts down yet. What might make sense to you doesn’t always make sense here, so it’s important to talk about these things before jumping into it!”

Mammon cursed, scoffed, and then sighed, tapping the fingertips on his free hand together repeatedly. “Well, we better make it quick! Time is money!”

Levi nodded, moving quick and grabbing a few things to lay them out on the desk. A few you-sized plastic figures rolled around on the desk before the gamer uncorked a marker to begin his battle strategy. “We have three problems we need to solve ASAP!”

The problems themselves seemed simple enough as he talked, and part of you was tempted to think that- maybe this time- things would be solved easily. Although, too much seemed to still be up to chance. Would Beel be easily found? Was he unharmed in the first place? The humans seemed to have a sense of naive hope. It was… affecting you in ways you couldn’t yet sense.

The brothers high-fived, burning with a newfound determination. Even as Levi looked nervous, ready to run, he was drawn in by his older sibling’s perseverance. Mammon suddenly held you to Levi with a smirk on his face like he’d figured out his next new scheme. “Let’s go get our baby brother back.”

Problem number one: getting your phone back.

If all of your work ended up being undone in a single moment thanks to Lucifer’s persistence, it would be the end of everything. Out of everyone, he was the last that could figure out what you were, because as much as you hated to admit it, there was a sense of danger lingering around him. So getting that device back was top priority. Luckily you had had the magical foresight to make the thing harder to break into, but who knew if human technology and ingenuity would win out in the end?

That’s why Levi had determined it would be best for Mammon to split off from the two of you and have the House focused as his base of operations. As Lucifer’s favorite brother- according to Mammon himself- with a talent for sticky fingers, he was the best bet for handling the problem. He could search the home for Beel in the meantime in case he happened to make it back before…well, all this happened.

Problem number two: finding Beel.

The most vital of problems. You could only imagine what kind of confusion that human was facing. A tender soul like that was eagerly sought after by your kind. It was a race to find him first. So you and Levi were ready to retrace his steps. From the house, to the cemetery, and everywhere in between. It didn’t even fully matter if you were discovered as a demon by him. This time, the source of that problem was not your fault! Which led into the last problem to solve.

Problem number three: getting back to normal.

This would require both teams to accomplish their tasks. Both getting your phone back and finding Beel so that quack of an angel could undo what his cake had caused!

Even just thinking about it made you seethe. Work together on D.A.R.? He was making things so much harder for you! Where was he in all of this? While you lived in the Morningstar home, trying your best to do a thousand things at once, he had the time to scheme and make magic cakes? All you wanted to do was get back to your regular size and wipe that smirk off his face.

Maybe force feed him his own cake and shove him in a pocket and see what it was like!

Because this was the worst!

If you thought being jostled around in a bag was torture enough, nothing topped the constant sway and shake of being in a pocket. Especially the pocket of someone as shaky as Levi.

“Oh, but I forgot to grab a flashlight! What if we end up being out all night and can’t see him?” The pocket swayed heavy in one direction. “Ugh! But if I go back now, I’ll be losing precious time!” Back the opposite direction.

If you were holding onto any more cake, now was about the time to get rid of it.

“Levi!” You couldn’t help but punch him a bit through the fabric of his clothes.

His flinch was so severe, you felt it in your own body. It was as if he had forgotten about you entirely. Muttering some stuff under his own breath, he padded straight for a while till he came to an abrupt stop. All of a sudden, a massive hand plucked you out of your hiding spot. Your skin prickled as instincts told you to chomp, but you held yourself back.

He pulled you out in what appeared to be an alleyway. Blue locks swayed back and forth in front of his eyes as his head swiveled to make sure there were no people or cameras around. “Levi,” you called, trying to get him to pay attention. It took saying his name a few more times before he listened. “Don’t be so anxious.”

Somehow, those supporting words earned you a glare. “Oh, yes, because saying that is so helpful.”

“I simply thought I should give you words of encouragement. Don’t be anxious. Go get it done. Be victorious.” You tilted your head slightly, lifting a closed fist in solidarity, ignoring that irksome expression you couldn’t describe once again.

A heavy sigh left his lungs. “Listen, I don’t know how they do things in hell—“

“The Devildom.”

“…That. But it’s not very encouraging to be told to do or not to do things based on something I have no control over. My brother is missing, you’re stuck like this, Lucifer getting angry is scary, that Prince guy getting angry is scary, and it’s up to me and Mammon to fix these things? How am I not supposed to get anxious?!”

You hummed a little, trying to see things from his point of view, but it was difficult to relate. “Well…how do I best encourage a human?”

“Everyone is different, but…I guess just using empathy.”

“Asking a demon to use empathy, really?”

“You wanted to know!” He shook his head and motioned to put you down in the pocket again. “Just forget about it…”

If there was one thing you wanted right now, it was not going back in that thing. So, mostly as a preventative measure, you spoke up to stop him. “Hold on! I can give it a proper try.” You sighed a bit in relief as he straighted you back out in an open palm. Then you thought for a moment. Empathy… So, you just had to relate and use words based off of that? You had almost done that before, when you spoke about losing someone important to you anytime Mammon had brought up words of his sister. If you used that as a reference, could you call the feeling that stirred in your gut when you couldn’t find your special one way back when anxiousness? Then, if that were the case, maybe you could say a thing or two about it. “We will find him,” you started to say. “Beel seems rather resilient, doesn't he? And even if we end up having to get your other brothers involved, or even the Prince, his safety takes importance over my mission. We’ll find him.”

Levi stood in silence for a moment, mulling over your words. A sudden blush popped up on both of his cheeks. “I-I guess that’s better. But wasn’t the best, so I’m only giving it a C+!”

Ignoring what a letter had to do with anything, you frowned. “That was extremely good, what're you talking about?”

“You almost had it, but then lost points by saying we could ruin your mission, which makes me stressed out too. I don’t want to see you get in trouble.”

These humans were awfully confusing creatures. “Why would you care so much about something that doesn’t concern you?”

“It does concern me! Because- Because… I thought we were friends and tied with the p-pact and stuff…”

Right. You forgot how much humans were pack animals. They existed by living in groups of families and worked to ever still bring more people into their lives. Quite the opposite of demons. A sign of growth and strength was true independence. Which shocked you to hear that Lifia was working with two other demons. Maybe there was something true about that myth about strength in numbers. “I do not know what one must do to become a…friend.”

Awkwardness filled his body as he shifted and couldn’t quite look at you. “Well, friends talk to each other, hang out, and do stuff with each other. B-but, we can talk about that later! I think I feel better now…thank you. “

“You’re welcome. But don’t you dare put me in that pocket again.” You pointed towards the hood hanging behind his head. “Put me there instead.” He begrudgingly listened to you, placing you in the sturdier fabric near his neck. It didn’t sway as frantically, and it would be easier talking to him from here if you needed to. From there, Levi set off again, your search for Beel officially beginning.

You both started in the Cemetery. With it being daytime, it seemed no one had to hop a fence. The human walked for a while, stopped at his sister’s grave, and said a few words before putting you in the grass and letting you get the plant-sized view while he searched from above. It felt like miles were walked and hours had passed before you both came to the conclusion that he likely wasn’t there. Besides, you had been with him when he walked away from the fence. He was bound to be somewhere else.

Levi followed a list both he and Mammon had come up with, stopping at several places. A nearby café that opened in the early hours of morning, Beel’s favorite gym, a parking lot that normally had a truck that sold fruits, a grocery store, and several restaurants. Levi asked the questions while you did your best to sneak around and not get caught. You certainly had been stuck with the more stressful job. And yet where were your words of encouragement, huh? Still, your efforts had found you nothing. Not even a crumb of evidence. The day had all but been spent, the sun setting down and painting the sky in an marigold hue. The search party was losing steam, but finally, Levi had stopped in a local park.

“He comes here to jog a lot, and to feed the ducks in the pond over there. It’s a…pretty large place to search, but…if he could be here…” His words drifted, as if he was even losing the energy to fully share his thoughts.

“Maybe message Mammon then? Let him know to come help. He should be done with his tasks by now. If we tackle it together, it shouldn’t be so daunting.” As you were speaking, Levi pulled you out of his hood and down on the ground. After settling you in the grass, he grabbed his phone.

“You’re right. Let me do that.”

While he was doing that, you’d get somewhat started. You headed a little away from the human and towards the shade of some trees, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. It was mostly empty here. Off in the distance, you could see a human couple walking a small canine. A few elderly stood at the outskirts of the previously mentioned pond and threw some small green things into the water. The more you walked into the protection of the trees, the less you saw of the world around you. It was pretty private here, a good place to hide if you needed.

Then pain filled your body.

Something snatched you up from the ground, ensnaring you in a death grip. You hissed in agony as your vision was turned towards an infamous grinning face. One of the demons from before who had worked with Lifia. The poisonous one. The other demon had called him Bazz or something? He was as ugly as ever, with a new scar sporting over a whitened eye.

You couldn’t even sense him! Was it because of the state you were in? To be totally blindsided by this… “Y-You!” The air in your lungs was easily pushed out from your body. Already you could feel the creaking of your limbs and bones, knowing that if you were to be crushed any tighter they would start snapping. Although, you didn’t let that deter you from your usual apathetic attitude. Worse than dying would be letting this scum have the joy of seeing you beg in your suffering. “Ha-Had to wait till…I was like this before- ugh- before you could have the…upper hand, huh?”

Slightly tighter, and you could see spots in your vision. “Are you really surprised a demon played dirty? Ha!” His eyes narrowed at you. “You’re weirder than I thought.” He stuck his tongue out from his mouth, the vibrant saliva dripping down and sizzling across his own skin. “Once I deal with you, those humans will be mine to devour! Every part of them. You should be thankful I wont let any bit go to waste.”

“MC!” Suddenly noticing your predicament, Levi started moving his feet, sprinting on some sort of instinct. Bazz easily knocked him back with the back of an arm, sending him rolling back over the ground, hitting the dirt and the roots of one of the trees hard. Dazed, it took him a while to stand back up. Even from here, you could see a small thin trickle of blood coming down from his hairline. Something about the sight stirred some old archaic emotion inside you, threatening to send it bubbling up to the surface.

“GO! Get back to the house!”

“I…I won’t!” Stupid, stubborn human! With the bravery at all the wrong times!

Bazz found this all too pleasing, licking his lips as his eyes glimmered with Gluttony. “Maybe I’ll indulge myself right now, and let the little imp watch.” Now, instead of keeping the human back, he lunged. You were squeezed hard enough to toy with your consciousness. But despite that, you wouldn’t go down without protecting your human in every way you could. You dug your teeth into his flesh, feeling some of the poison that ran through their veins enter your mouth. It hurt enough to stall him apparently for just a moment. You caught the glimpse of fear on Levi’s face.

And then you caught glimpse of a blur.

Within a second, you found yourself flung in the air. You hardly had time to steel yourself before you felt your shrunken frame slam against the earth. The environment flickered in your view, as your mind was ready to shut itself down completely. But you couldn’t let it. You pushed yourself up, hardly standing above the tall grass, only able to take in a few seconds of information in at a time.

Bazz growled and sprung up, hardly hurt but clearly frazzled. Then darkness. You pulled yourself back out of it and caught a large shadow encroaching over you before being picked up by large hands. The lift made your vision warble. You bit your lip and forced yourself to focus. Levi was off in the distance, his eyes wide as his mouth moved to form words that you couldn’t fully hear. Wait… Levi? If this wasn’t him, and not the demon, who was… You turned your body and looked up.

Beel shook his other hand, his knuckles bruised but not broken. His eyes narrowed, his muted expression still contorted with fury. “Don’t touch them!”

A twitching smirk popped up on the demon’s face. With petty glee, he pounced on Levi, claws poised to tear the human to shreds. You and Beel shouted his name at the same time. The youngest sibling sprinted forward and kicked Bazz hard in the ribs. Even for being a human, it caused the attacker to hiss and jump on the bigger threat instead, knocking you both down. Soon it was a mess of limbs, even Levi tugging at the demon’s clothes to do whatever he could to protect his little brother. You scrambled up and prepared to rip Bazz’s eyes out. But before you could do that, a sudden light shone off to the side.

The white was blinding, causing both you and the demonic assassin to cover your face in anguish. You fell down on Beel’s chest and tried to ignore the burning sensation. It clenched your throat and made it difficult to breathe, to think, to do anything. Two large hands curved over you, trying to shield you from the light.

Bazz rolled off Beel's body, thudding to the ground. "Back again, you bastard?! I'll kill you! And then I'll go after your human master too!"

The last thing you heard was Levi shouting his brother’s name…

“Please!”

The emotion tore at your chest, ripping you apart on the inside.

“…”

You had to. He had to.

“I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?… Even if it meant ______?”

That wasn’t even a question. Of course you would. Over and over and over again. In every moment, in every life, you would.

“Yes… Please… I don’t care if ___________! They were the only reason why I’m who I am today… With them gone, I… I won’t be the same regardless… Even if I lose ______, they need me! Besides, maybe one day, past several lifetimes, I can ____________.“

“Very well. Today we both break the rules. All for a human. Goodbye, __________”

A gentle touch startled you out of your dream. Although you had the sneaking suspicion that you would’ve jolted awake regardless. Impulse flared the word ‘danger’ in your mind, and you swiped your claws at your attacker before you could even register them. Even before the blur in front of you compiled into being, you smelt the distinct scent of human blood.

“Oh, sorry… I didn’t mean to startle you.” The tone was far too understanding for the fact that you’d just broken skin.

As the hair prickling at the back of your neck calmed itself, you blinked, confused and…embarrassed. “Beel…” Images of the scene you could recall from before replayed in your mind before they stopped abruptly. You couldn’t remember how you got here. Where even was here, now that you were looking at it?

At first glance, it fooled you into thinking you were still at the park. Large lush trees shielded you from the warm light above. They rustled pleasantly, harmonizing with the soft blanket of vibrant grass coating the fields and hills. The fluffy clouds above rolled lazily, giving off a comforting glow. Playful flowers swayed back and forth in their beckoning, luring visitors to skip down the path they were outlining. Despite being in a compromising position- your identity and form being shown to yet another human- all you could feel was a lingering peace. A persistent, possessive, and invasive sort of peace. Therein lied the proverbial rub.

This wasn’t the human realm.

And fortunately as much as unfortunately, your new human companion seemed to sense the same thing. “Do you know where we are?”

You sighed, sizing- again, mind another pun- the human up. Even being the way you were now, you could tell Gluttony was much bigger than his brothers. And that wasn’t to say just on the larger side of humankind. No. You meant significantly bigger. Enlarged. Quite poetic, in a way.

While Solomon’s cake had shrunken you, it had grown Beel.

In Mammon and Levi’s hold before, you were about the length of a full hand. In Beel’s case, you would be lucky if you were the size of one of his fingers. His hair was brushing up against the branches and leaves of the trees. His voice made your own bones rattle. And the cut you had given him before was so small it was already healing. If anything, it explained how he had held up against a demon for as long as he did. However, it still didn’t explain where you were.

“In a manner of speaking,” you finally answered. Silence filled the air then, giving him some time to ask questions. Surprisingly, he never did, so you asked one in turn. “Do you remember anything before waking up here?”

Beel’s face scrunched ever so slightly as he racked his brain. If he weren’t so dangerously large at the moment, you’d almost have considered it endearing. It was quite like how Mammon always cracked his mouth open in thought, or like how Levi bit the corner of his lip, or even how Lucifer— You nearly violently shook your head. Human quirks were just comical at best. Nothing else. How much influence did this place have over your thoughts? Luckily, Beel spoke up to distract you from your own mind. “I remember fighting that guy, and then grabbing you, and then nothing till I woke up here. I was going to grab Levi, but…” He looked around, as if still keeping his eye out for his missing brother.

“He’s…not here.” Somehow you could say that with certainty. Whether you’d become accustomed to his soul or the pact had forged stronger connections than you thought, you couldn’t tell. The only thing you could decipher was…severance. It was like you were cut off from both pact-mates. Even the small fragment of vitality and sin that should’ve been flowing through your veins was stifled. Those personalized bits of Greed and Envy were being drowned out by the roaring silence of Isolation. It was…almost startling in its loneliness. You should’ve been accustomed to such things, but it was almost as if you had gotten used to a new normal in this relatively short time amongst those humans. But, you couldn’t waste your time thinking about that for too long.

Your world shifted as Beel pushed himself up to his feet, curling his hand so you stayed secure. “Do you know how to get out of here?”

With a wistful sigh, you shook your head. Stuck in another place, were you? Was this going to become a pattern? “Haven’t the foggiest.” Once again, the magic of the environment eased your anxiety about your identity. Before you could control yourself, your lips were excited to spill well-kept secrets. “Looks Celestial to me, and I’ve never been there before.”

“Celestial?” Beel hummed, “Like heaven? Are we dead?” A rather calm way to ask such a desperate question…

“If we were, I wouldn’t be here.” With a shrug, you pointed towards the ground below. “Even if I was sent here by mistake, I’m sure divine spears would be raining down on me by now to send me back to where I came from. I’m not exactly welcomed near those glittery gates. So, I figure this must be a figment or copy of that realm.”

The human simply uttered a simple “ah” like he understood everything you were saying before stretching his neck from side to side. It was hard to tell if he was also feeling the influence of the area or if he was just naturally a bit calmer than the others. Beel gestured to the path of flowers. “Should I follow these?”

“Could be a trap.”

“Hm. I don’t feel like they are.”

“Go where you want then,” you nodded. A little flourish of the hand motioned to your own body, beaten and bruised and bitty. “I’m not exactly built for travel like this. I’ll go wherever you decide.”

Suddenly, a large fingertip came down, patting you on the head and almost skewering itself on your horns in the process. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

A flash of annoyance cropped up in you for a split second. “I’m much older than you, you know.”

His head tilted just a little, looking genuinely befuddled by that. “Does that change anything?”

A rather humiliating noise of shock clamped down in your throat. You were silent for the next long while as he walked. He was right about that. Nothing you could say or do really changed your position for the time being. Small, nearly magic-less, and exhausted, there wasn’t much of a fight you could put up. If that previous scuffle had proven anything, it was that…right now you were at the mercy of everyone else. It was a blow so low, it left you breathless. Up until now, you were happy to deny the truth, but now there was no fooling yourself. This human… Beel… was your protector.

A demon relying on human protection while you were in somewhere that looked like the Celestial Realm? What kind of topsy-turvey reality was this? The facts repeated over and over in your mind and forced a foreign warmth to brush across your cheeks as Beel continuously ducked his head to avoid branches and the like. You rubbed at your skin in an attempt to snuff out the fire in your body, but it didn’t work.

Beel followed the outline of flowers down deeper into this grove of trees. Both of you remained silent, but it didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it was almost…nice… For what reason, you couldn’t describe. Perhaps you could almost sleep like this, and let the responsibility be on someone else’s shoulders for a while. Everything was out of your hands. You closed your eyes and felt the tension leave your body for a while. You managed to get a little bit of rest until you felt the human stop in his tracks. When you opened your eyes, a strange sight sent a chill down your spine.

Several doors stood upright, scattered throughout the place. Wood, metal, glass, gold, silver, diamond; any material and color you could think of, any design, and it was here. It reminded you awfully of a graveyard. Each door seemed to represent something, eerie in their rigid stillness.

Of course, that was juxtaposed with a sight you did not expect to see in a place like this.

A long table coated in a lacy tablecloth sat at the end of the flower-path. Shiny silver dish-wares were spread across it, glinting in the soft light. And as expected, on top of every dish was a heaping pile of foods. Pastas, pizzas, pies, cakes, casseroles, and crepes, human food of nearly every kind was packed on every square inch of surface. Slurping could be heard above you, and as much as you suddenly feared getting wet, you couldn’t blame him. Just from the smell alone, you could almost feel hungry too, which was something you hardly felt anymore.

Yet, several bells were ringing in your mind. The human known as Gluttony was led to a royal feast? “Beel, I know it looks tempting but—“

“Welcome.”

A smooth voice sent those alarms blaring louder. The demon? No. The voice was much too calm to match. But you could smell Bazz…could smell his blood. You turned your head behind you, but was blocked from sight by Beel’s massive body.

“You must be Beel, right? Please, take a seat. While you’re at it, why don’t you hand me that demon so I can…take care of them for you?”

[nat111love]

Daredevil: Born Again Season 1 Episode 05 - With Interest

[deactivate-iguana]

Of course Saw XI isn't game over! There is no end! One day there will be so many Saw movies people will have to say their OTP is "hit-over-the-head-with-a-glass-bottle-in-the-hospital-shipping" or "stabbed-once-with-a-knife-in-the-elbow-and-then-once-more-in-the-neck-with-a-box-cutter-shipping"

[puapka]

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

(tw: mild violence)

"[Ganymede] looked like a classmate of mine in freshman year who’d gotten mugged on his way to school: eyes like empty windows, a face that had forgotten how to make expressions." - Chalice of the Gods.

"Liam!" I heard a hopeful voice bounce off the walls of the cheap one-bedroom flat. "I finally got enough to pay for that robotics workshop you've wanted to go to!" And with a sigh, her knees buckled.

"Mom!" I cried out, running to help her up. "I told you to not to go for work today."

She cupped my face gently. "I know how much you wanted to go to that workshop. You said it yourself, the head of MIT will be there. The college of your dreams! They deserve to know your genius, and see that robot you've been designing."

"I'm not having that at the cost of you out cold each night." I supported her as she stumbled to the bed, and lay down tiredly. She looked at me with weary eyes.

"When you finally prove to the world what a smart, wonderful boy you are and become successful," she mumbled, dozing off. "Then you can buy me a break."

Her words echoed in my mind as I was slammed to the cement floor of the dark alley. My glasses were broken in the corner. I clung to my school bag tightly.

A voice growled, "Hey, redhead! What do you have there in that bag?" I looked up at their ugly faces, with remorseless eyes and an evil smirk on their faces. "Hey, Joe. Check his bag."

I clutched on to it tightly, as I desperately cried out, "PLEASE! NO!" Suddenly, I felt Joe's sneaker slam into my side, and I gasped in pain. I held on to my bag tighter, refusing to let go, and then one of his other goons kicked me in the head. My head reeled as I screamed and they took away my bag.

"DUDE! There's money in here." Joe cackled to his boss. His boss had an evil grin plastered on his face.

My eyes widened. "N-No, NO!" I yelled, sobbing with desperation. "My mom worked hard for that, please, we're poor and I need the money for school, PLEASE--" I was knocked to the ground by Joe's fist. I screamed for help.

Out of panic that someone would hear me, the group of boys started kicking me with even more force. I started tasting blood in my mouth.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed in the corner. I was already dizzy from the pain but as I looked at the figure closer, I realised I recognised him: the black hair, the scary green eyes.

Moms whispered about the bad influence that he was. Students were scared to go near him, unless they wanted to start a fight. Teachers warned us about him. He was a rumoured terrorist, a gangster, a criminal.

I closed my eyes immediately, waiting for the infamous Percy Jackson to deliver the final blow. Instead...

"HEY!" he barked. "LEAVE. HIM. ALONE" The boss of the boys smirked. "What are you going to do? Joe, take care of him."

Joe launched forward, only to get punched in the face. He fell backward, his nose bleeding. Percy growled. "Anyone else wants to take care of me?"

The boys gasped and their eyes widened. The boss narrowed his eyes and started to run away with the money, dropping my school bag. Joe jumped to his feet and ran away too, with the money in hand. I was too numb, and I just flailed my finger at his direction, pointing desperately.

Percy sprinted behind them, leaving me shell shocked. The money was gone. My mom would have to work again for a whole month to make up for the lost money that we could've used to at least buy us a month of groceries. But then it'd be too late. I would probably never get to go to the robotics workshop.

I stared at the wall for what seemed like forever, and heard Percy walk back to where I was on the ground.

"Liam from school, right? Dude, I am so so sorry," he said, speaking to me for the first time. "I couldn't find them. Are...are you okay.."

The dam broke. I felt my heart beating fast, as tears rolled out of my eyes as I sobbed loudly. A pit formed in my stomach, filled with shame and anger at myself. The evil faces of the boys carved itself into my brain, haunting me. My fists pounded the side of my forehead, frustrated. I couldn't face myself for letting my mother's hard work go to waste like that. I couldn't face her again.

Suddenly, I felt a hand grasp my wrists tightly. A gentle voice calmly whispered, "Breathe, Liam. You're safe now. It's going to be all right. Just focus on my voice, yeah? Breathe." My sobs got slower and slower, and my vision cleared for the next fifteen minutes as Percy kept whispering in the dark. Suddenly the black of the alleyway didn't seem to close in on me, rather it seemed comforting.

"Have some water. Are you able to walk?" He took his water bottle and raised it gently to my lips.

I coughed as water washed down my dry throat. "I have to be," my scratchy voice groaned. "I can't miss school today. Math test." I got to my feet, only for my knees to buckle. Like mother, like son.

I was a complete stranger to Percy, yet he frowned at me, annoyed, as if he knew my shenanigans all too well. "Yeah, no you're not." he declared. "I'm not letting you go to school."

"No, please." I begged. Percy rolled his eyes. "I know all about nerds like you. I know you're not able to see either. Your glasses are broken in that corner there. I'm not blind, you are." He took the glasses and carefully slipped them back on my face.

I felt empty on the inside. I locked my eyes with him, my face blank, unable to form any expressions. I couldn't feel anything.

Percy's eyes immediately softened and for a moment. His guard was down. "I-I'll walk you to the clinic. It's just a few minutes away. Come on, I'm sorry." He held out his hand.

Moms whispered about the bad influence that he was. Students were scared to go near him, unless they wanted to start a fight. Teachers warned us about him. And yet here he was, gently supporting me as I shuffled weakly down the street.

In a daze, I told him everything--how my mom was the most hardworking person I knew, how close she had gotten to death by exhaustion many times from her night shifts at the hospital, about my robot, how excited I was to go to the workshop, how happy she was last night when she could finally let me go.

And he listened. He watched intensely, quiet and understanding, as I stammered slow and steady, and tried to not to cry again.

"...And I've heard the head of MIT is going to be there, and I wanted to show him the plans of the--"

"The robot." Percy gave a small smile. "That sounds really amazing. You're like a genius." It felt genuine. As I blushed, I realised that I never had someone who cared about me, even if caring meant just finding me the slightest bit interesting.

When we reached the staircase of the small clinic, I gently removed myself from his support.

"Thanks, man." I said, weak. "I think I can handle myself from here on out. Is there still time for you to get to school or...?"

"If I was Usain Bolt, then there'd be time." he snorted. "It's fine though. I wasn't feeling like coming to school today. But I'm glad I tried. I stopped anything really bad happening to you."

He awkwardly smiled at me. I was still feeling extremely numb, but I felt my lips twitching upwards. "Take care, Liam." After giving me some money from his pocket to pay for the treatment, he walked away casually. I stared after him until his figure disappeared down the turn of the street.

I got patched up and headed to my tiny flat. I remembered my Mom telling me that she had to work a night shift today, and that she would only come back the next evening. Just as well, there was still a void in my stomach dreading telling her about the money. Oh, gosh, the money.

Trying to take my mind off of things, I fixed up a cup of instant ramen, and opened up my half-broken computer and searched up, Percy Jackson.

I expected to find an Instagram page, instead my screen was filled with articles.

Missing at twelve years old, seen at a gun fight with a grown man, blew up the St. Louis arch, accused of murdering his mother. Expelled from more than eight schools in eight years. The cup of ramen fell out of my hand.

Look, I knew Percy was a troublemaker to an extent. I knew he made a mess and ran away from school on the first day. I knew that bullies would get into fights with him and get beaten up. But then again, I couldn't forget his smile and his gentle voice, telling me it would be all right.

Something inside me wanted to know who the real Percy Jackson was. Yet I felt unsettled. Me and my Mom were already a poverty-stricken family of two. I didn't know who he was, apart from that one interaction.

Could I afford to take a risk to get closer to a person like him? What if I got into trouble too? What if I got expelled from school too? What if he was just leading me on today?

As I buried myself under the covers that night, my mind started eating away at me. I closed my eyes, and dreamed of those evil guys, the taste of blood in my mouth, and kind green eyes.

The next day, I managed to attend school. After lunch was my science class, which I knew was the time where my teacher would collect the money to attend the workshop. I tried to not think about his reaction to his favourite student not being able to come.

At lunch, I sat at a lonely table in the corner, blinking back tears. My mind was plagued with my Mom and my teacher's face, disappointed and shocked. Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me. "Liam? You okay?"

I turned back, and gasped. It was Percy, but his cheek and nose had bandages on them, as if he had gotten hurt. "Yeah, why?" I stammered.

He sheepishly dug into his pocket and brought out a familiar stack of cash. He started rambling, "I-was-still-thinking-about-what-happened-so-after-dropping-you-at-the-clinic-I might have--"

"Sorry, what?"

"I tracked down those boys and threatened them to give back your money," he blurted out. "I...know how it feels like to have a single and struggling Mom. I just wanted to help in some way."

I felt stunned. No one had ever done such a thing for me. "How...did you...?"

"Umm..." he stuttered. "My dog, uh, she's a good tracker." He sat next to me. He took my hand in his and placed the stack of cash in my palm. "Anyways. You deserve to get the attention of the MIT head and impress him. He'd be missing out if you didn't. The world would be missing out on an inventor like you." My heart skipped a beat.

I sat there in silence. The unsettling feeling started growing again in my gut. "I know this sounds weird but," I whispered, "There are articles about you online, saying that you're a criminal. But you're here helping me. Why?"

Percy fell silent for a minute. He shuffled in his seat next to me. "I...can't tell you anything about the articles or the rumours or the accusations or whatever." His eyes were averted, and his voice was stiff.

"Is there....anything I can do to help?" I asked, softly. "You're just in freshman year. You don't deserve to be involved in dangerous things like this. You don't seem like that type of a person." Percy suddenly looked up and locked eyes with me, and his eyes were filled with a deep misery.

"Not if you want to get in trouble too," he warned. His eyes morphed from misery to something deeper; the air turned cold and there was something about his gaze that seemed almost powerful, primordial even. I felt freaked out and asked, "Who are you, Percy Jackson?"

He got up to leave. "What do you think?"

Before I could react, the bell rang and it was time to go to class. I turned back to Percy, and said, "I don't know who you are. But no one's ever done anything like this for me. I don't know how to thank you. I don't know about what's going on, but you deserve to have a normal life."

His eyes turned sad. He didn't reply.

After that day, things didn't get better for Percy. He started skipping school more often, his grades were slipping. His eyes were always red as if they'd either been crying or not sleeping. His only friend, a girl named Rachel, was bullied on the daily. At lunchtime, I heard him quietly chatting with her, and I regularly overheard words like 'war' and 'death'. He was regularly yelled at, and was constantly on the edge of being expelled.

I kept away from him, but a part of my heart still ached everytime I remembered how he saved my life and how I could never return the favour. "Not if you want to get into trouble too" he had said.

The next year, he went missing. His picture was all over the news. Theories exploded in our school, ranging from him being kidnapped by a mafia boss to being a mafia boss himself, and running away from the police. Teachers used him as an example for what would happen if we didn't listen to our parents. Parents who waited to pick their kids up would sneer about his mother and stepfather.

The commotion died after a while, and if Percy ever was found again, there was no official news about it except a few gossiping mouths in the streets of New York.

Me? The head of MIT was so impressed by my robotics skills the day of the workshop that he made sure I got a scholarship. I graduated school with the highest honours. I got admission into this incredible institution, and learned so much. And here I am today, in front of all of you, batch of 20XX, with this degree I have worked hard for by your side for the past few academic years.

So who was Percy Jackson? Was he a terrorist? A juvenile misfit beyond all hope? Was he a mafia boss, a gangster, a criminal? Or was he the gentle-hearted fourteen year old boy who saw me, bruised and bloody on the cement ground all those years ago, and decided to help a poor boy achieve his dreams?

I could never tell you. That's how humans are. We aren't open two dimensional displays of artworks. Within our colours hide layers of character and woven stories of the past. Neither the moms who whispered about him, the teachers who used him as an example, the bullies who were beaten up by him could never see Percy for who he was. But I got a glimpse that day all those years ago.

So as I stand here today at this prestigious graduation ceremony, with the highest honours of my class, I'd like to thank my Mom for supporting me throughout this journey. I love you so much. I'd like to thank all my professors and fellow students.

And, I'd like to thank Percy Jackson. And I'd like to use his example to beg all of you to be kind and do kind. His simple act of kindness helped me achieve my dreams, and I will forever carry that on and help other underprivileged kids like me.

Percy, I hope you're somewhere out there, happy. And single. Because I am. Just for the record.

*********************************************

this is probably my longest fic i've written, and if you've finished reading, thank you so much. thank you for the few people who were excited for this fic, and kept me from deleting it (I swear, I had to rewrite this so many times ugh) as always, constructive criticism is appreciated <3

[xxdrixx]

Daredevil: Born Again Season 1 Episode 05 - With Interest

[cloroxcasser0le]

Animal (pt 1 :3)

summary: Jax, pomni, and Ragatha get stuck in a small room together on an adventure, so Pomni and Ragatha see this as the perfect time to put their super cool plan into effect. They’re wrong actually Jax mauls pomni and then in part 2 bad things happen to him.

AN: ion fuckin know the word count bc I’m way lazy so I’m guessing it’s like ~1K. Also I’m so excited to finish part 2 bc it has my favorite thing ever in it. This is still based off a moot saying that i should write about Jax getting what he deserves but like i said. Part two boy.

TW: Semi- graphic Violence

Ragatha awoke to a sudden BANG to her door, causing her to nearly fall out of bed. Before she hit the floor she caught herself on her nightstand, as it was the closest thing to her. 

   She caught her breath after that spook, putting a plush foot on the ground. Only after she did, she realized that there had been an “inexplicable” banana peel right next to her bed. As is typical for banana peels, it slid her right into the ground with a muffled thud, accompanied by a badly suppressed laugh from behind her door.

    Jax. Of course it’s Jax. Jax, I’m gonna KILL you. She thought as she pushed herself up and veritably charged at the door, before slamming it open to expose the culprit, like it wasn’t already a case that even Kinger, no offense!, could’ve solved with his.. history.. with problem solving. 

  “Welp, ya caught me.” He stepped further into Ragatha’s reddening vision. God, she hated that face he made when he had caused, was causing, or was about to cause something bad to happen “What’s the stare for? Thought you were gonna turn me in to the fun police on sight.” 

  The only thing she hated more than that shit with a capital S eating grin was being mean, so obviously a lot. 

 “Jax, seriously? Turn you in to the fun police?? Pranks should and honestly are only fun when everyone’s laughing!” She took in a deep breath to calm down before continuing “And I was not laughing just then, if you hadn’t noticed.”

   “Ugh, fine I’ll just go kill myself then, like Kinger’s wife” he turned back to where his door is, reaching his door and putting a hand-…paw..? 

  With the gloves they looked like hands, which is why he never took them off, because if they could get their hands on any information that made him look any more like a rabbit than he already does, with the purring and thumping and other embarrassing shit, also the fact that he literally has rabbit ears, he’d be ruined.

Luckily he didn’t have fur though, his skin was rubber or something.

  -on the handle, all in the time it took that raggedy Ann looking doll to process that. 

“JAX!! THAT’S INSENSITIVE!!”

“Or maybe you’re just sensitive!” With that, Jax swung open his door and disappeared into the (probably trashed) room.

  Maybe Ragatha needed to hate being mean a little less, because maybe Jax deserved it a little.

For the second time in that interaction, she took a deep breath. But this time it was gladly over, and she could also rest in her room.

Her head had just hit her pillow when another knock sounded, this one much softer. The only thing that drove her to peel herself off her bed was that this was probably someone nicer, like pomni. She liked her. 

••• pomni pov •••

Ragatha’s door opened, honestly surprising, as she was probably still annoyed from the argument with Jax. Speaking of that, “That.. that was you arguing with Jax earlier? Ug-“ 

••• Ragatha pov again lol I accidentally switched back in this paragraph •••

“Yeah” she sighed, intending to start talking again until she realized that’s what the other was trying to do, quickly shutting her mouth, letting Pomni continue. 

“Oh.. well, sorry about that…” she perked up “I’ve actually been devising a plan to make him… I don’t know less.. jerky? Horrible? {SPLAT}hole-ish?” Her devious tone had been lost and regained at each pause, so Ragatha didn’t know if she was too serious about this plan. 

   Regardless, she inquired “Oh? What is it?”

Ragatha decided that the unsure tone was because she didn’t know how she- her,herself!!- would react to it!! How considerate! 

This conclusion was because of how Pomni almost visibly lit up when she began telling her about it “well, it’s pretty cruel!” She chuckled, cute…Is that weird to think? Especially because it seemed kind of nervous.

“Oh! Well, he’s probably done worse.” Ragatha matched her tone, hoping she’d catch on and feel comfy enough to share something “cruel” with her. 

 “In that case! You know how he’s a rabbit? Heh, of course you do, anyway! It’s a plan, so it has multiple steps” she noticed the others… including Jax… leaving their rooms to make their way to where Caine announced adventures, and leaned in to whisper the rest to Ragatha. 

 “Are you sure that’s gonna go well? I mean, there’s a lot of variables” 

 “Eh.. let’s just not think about that”

••• Jax Pov •••

“TODAYS ADVENTURE IS: ESCAPE THE EVIL FACTORY OWNER OBBY!! As recommended by a beloved circus member!” ugh, judging by the previous adventures ‘evil’ probably doesn’t even mean anything. This is gonna be a clone adventure of Charlie and the chocolate factory, he could just smell it.”Uhm, objection! That sounds stupid.”

Caine put a gloved hand on the already annoyed rabbitoid’s shoulder “WRONG!” He said calmly before tossing Jax through the portal that the gang was already walking through, as he probably wouldn’t have gone in on his own. He was such a good ringmaster guys.

•••fast forward yay I’m lazy•••

   This was the funnest adventure ever. He didn’t know how Caine would top it, honestly. Having the time of his life. A joyous occasion. Lovely and whimsy, even. 

   Is what Jax WOULD have said if he was completely lying, this was the fuckin’ worst. 

  He was stuck in a room with ragatha and pomni, who were whispering to each other about some plan or whatever. Girls, amiright?

  Not to mention it wasn’t because of some boulder blocking a passageway, no, they were in a factory. Apparently the guy was evil and locked the door to this useless room with nothing but a buncha machines that were heating the place up like crazy.

  “Sooo… Jax.” Pomni straightened up like she was about to say something important, when there really wasn’t anything of the sort other than ‘we’re gonna be stuck here for more than 5 more minutes!’, in which case he’d abstract on the spot “do you like.. act like a rabbit or just look like one”

  “Depends, do rabbits typically tear you a new one the size of the moon? And not the kind you’re gonna see when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Uhh… no..” 

“Jax!! What’s gotten into you today!” 

“A bullet, if I’m lucky” Jax rolled his eyes like the wheel and shifted to face further away from the other two, also starting to stomp his foot in annoyance. Not the normal bouncy thing, but a full THUMP. He’d come to accept it as normal by now. 

  Pomni apparently hadn’t “well, I guess that’s a yes Ragatha!” She held back a laugh, like he was trying to this morning, as she looked back at Ragatha.

“D’awwww, he a widdle bunny boy!!” She wasn’t actually trying to be THAT condescending, but god DAMN was she. 

 “No!! No I’m not im normal unlike you!! Fag!!”

He said like a 4th grader. Sounding straight out of South Park. With his slurs and such.

“Well your tail’s wagging.“

“No it’s not!!” He grabbed his tail to keep it still or hide it, both he could’ve done without his hands. 

“Then why are you hiding it?” Pomni crossed her arms, feeling satisfied that she’s making Jax embarrassed and defensive, not to mention he’s blushing from her teasing. 

“Uhh…” 

“Exactly!” Pomni leaned back, deciding this was over. Maybe she hadn��t finished the whole plan that they were talking about earlier, but that’s just because Ragatha wasn’t doing her part.

“You know what, pomni? {BOING} you!” He wasn’t even trying to stop his paw from thumping in agitation, as he wasn’t paying attention to that, which was pretty obvious “you’re not {HONK}ing cool!” 

“I can say the same for you jaxy-boy.”

Jax didn’t respond with anything but a growl for a second “The difference is I’m actually cool.”

“Surree you are, bunny boy."

Some might call him dramatic, me? I’d call him a fuckin animal LMAO cuz that’s why he’s even mad in the first place. Anyway. 

  Jax lunged at pomni, scratching and biting at her while pinning her down with his legs, but that still left her hands free to grab his neck and choke him out , which she did as hard as she could.

  She used his surprise to push him off her and to pin him down instead, but when the shock wore off he started scratching her hands too, causing her to start to stand up, but Jax did so faster, biting her arm and unknowingly scratching at her sleeve instead of her actual arm. Nobody tell him though. 

   Ragatha was also shocked, but unlike Jax it was at the fight between the two people she was stuck with.

“G-guys!! Calm down!!” She shouted at them, not quite knowing what else she could’ve said.

“I would’ve been calm if this- OW {SPLAT}!!!” Jax had realized he was scratching at her sleeve, so he started digging his claws into where he was biting. Caine was dumb or something because rabbits aren’t predators, but that wasn’t important because Jax HAD JUST RIPPED HER FUCKING ARM OFF WHAT. 

 As is typical for people in her situation, she shrieked in pain and confusion “JAX YOU {BOIOIOING} {HONK}!!”, followed by a hard kick to his face that sent him- and her arm- into the wall. 

  Ragatha tackled him to the floor, her stuffed hands and arms getting ripped as she pushed Jax’s arms beneath him and pinned them there with his torso, that she had to forcefully hold in place as well as his head so he didn’t try to bite her “Pomni are you o- I’d help but I gotta hold him down!!” 

  Pomni stumbled to the opposite side of the room from Ragatha and a probably rabid Jax.. honestly, forget the probably, she wouldn’t be surprised if he started foaming from the mouth.

 As she sat down, Pomni managed a response “ugh.. it’s fine, you wouldn’t be able to help anyway because he would probably be attacking you right now.. ughhh {BANG}”

“The others will- EEK!” Jax struggled noticeably harder than he had been, causing her to lose the advantage she had over him right now momentarily. Which could’ve been bad “-probably be here soon! Then uhm.. I’m sure they’ll have something to restrain him with, so we won’t have to hold him down.”

   While Ragatha said that, she looked down at him, almost feeling bad. He probably wasn’t in his right mind right now, maybe this is something that came with his avatar, because Caine is fucking stupid. He also probably isn’t in full control of himself, because the jax she know would never do something like THAT.

[shaykai]

“I love any man willing to birth a little more slithering, wet malice into the world.”

RIP that letter, it will be missed. Anywhozels this is a redraw of this

[swoomoo]

tldr at the bottom

For Amare, she is a pursuer. She has heavily invested into oblivion and due to this enjoys the taste of empty resonances the most. We do not actually use the resonance system to it's full extent but we do still use it for this purpose since I made it a flavor thing for the character.

She has a list of empty resonance individuals (which is already rare) that would go unnoticed if they go missing. Within this list, she has separated it further between those who are actual psychopaths and those who have just been through too much.

With this in mind, she will happily take everything from those she deems society would do better without (sadists or otherwise cruel people). Others on the list, she will drink from, and return all while being unnoticed, lest she wipes their memory.

She feeds differently depending on the criteria from above. If she is going to keep the person on the list, she will be stealthy, grab and let the kiss do it's thing. If however she plans to be full, she will go further with this.

Amare does not fuck her food, but she will definitely fuck with her food. She left the Sabbat a long time ago but some coping measures remain with her. If she doesn't have anyone around to ground her she does have sadistic tendencies if she is stressed. When consuming those who have done bad things (she has even went as far as tracking down serial killers to feed from them) she will torture them as she feeds.

During our chronicle, Amare lost a humanity from a stain she received by torturing a victim on her list and not directly biting him because she didn't want him to feel the pleasure of the kiss. (She cut his arm off and just drank from the wound)

Now, she has fed from Vesper more recently as they are in a blood bond but spoiler alert, she has only ever had sex with Vesper so no food fucking.

I will add this though to piggyback from Jax's post, she did try to clicker train Vesper early on in their relationship. She knew he was a blood leech and it would bond him and convinced him it was better to be bonded to someone he trusts then risk it with someone he doesn't. He also had the reassurance of knowing he would always have a meal.

The first time she fed him her blood she kissed him to try and have him associate her touch with the pleasure of the blood. It worked too damn well. Don't worry though, after a lot of truths came out, Vesper made sure the bond is now mutual. Amare was always obsessed with him and now they are super weird about it together.

tldr; Amare likes to use her investigative skills (and cover PI business) to search for sociopaths and others that she can consume.

The answer to both these questions for Amy is yes.

Feeling a little unhinged on lack of sleep today so I got an open twofold question for VtM players

What is your OC's predator type/typical hunting means?

Do they fuck their food?

[technofeudalism]

let's recap what we've learned about the United States in the last few days.

things that are terrorism:

allegedly shooting a healthcare CEO whose company generated more pure profit (not revenue, profit) in a year than the GDP of 94 countries, exclusively by denying coverage to people who pay for it

a 42-year-old mother of 2 using the wrong combination of 7 words during a heated conversation with a call center employee at a health insurance company who was in the process of denying her health coverage.

things that are not terrorism:

mass shooting in a Black church to incite a race war

going to a BLM protest specifically to kill protestors

a neo-nazi running over a crowd of people, killing a woman

targeting and killing 23 latinos in an el paso, texas walmart

killing 12 people in a theatre, shooting 58 others, rigging your apartment with explosives

a QAnon groyper killing 7 and shooting ~50 at a 4th of July parade

killing 3 people and shooting several others at a Planned Parenthood in defense of the unborn

stalking someone relentlessly and then killing them and their child despite months of the victim making police reports

any one of the 1,200 murders committed by US police yearly, the vast majority being minorities

tightening your border while ~100 immigrants (including children) drown every year in the Rio Grande

United Healthcare killing an unnknowable number of elderly people by using faulty AI to deny medically necessary coverage

Aetna killing a woman by refusing to cover her cancer care

Blue Cross killing a 6-year-old by denying her appendicitis surgery

Cigna killing a 17-year-old child by denying her liver transplant

the pharmaceutical industry killing half a million people with opioids in the name of producing revenues in 2023 that rivaled the GDPs of countries like Spain, Mexico, and Australia.

the United States killing 45,000 people a year because they can't access health coverage

make sure you keep this guide handy the next time you find yourself interacting with your insurance company or any other millionaire, billionaire, or an individual who is part of a protected class such as a CEO or president of a corporation.

[rochichan]

Odysseus