#when he stands in front of the rotating light with his arm outstretched and looks like an angel

[vagueconfusion]

these ancient canopies we used to lay beneath

[creeksandsocks]

Passcode to My Heart

Eddie Munson x F!reader

Your locker gets jammed and Eddie comes to save the day despite jocks doing their worst. [1.1k words]

Tags: Mature language used and sexual gestures are imitated but no explicit smut, bullying, fluff

You’re twisting the dial of your locker’s padlock, you're currently on your third try of inputting your combination. Right three full rotations ro clear… stop at 14… left until 35… full rotation then 8. Your code is muscle memory this far into the school year, using it as a checkpoint to switch textbooks between first and second period on block days. Pulling on the lock, waiting for it to release after inputting your code, but nothing. You're angrily jerking the lock, now pulling on the main component, hoping to pry it from your locker. You give up on it, a sound reverberates through the covered hallways as you let the lock fall from your hand and onto the metal door of your locker. Whatever… you think, you could probably make it through one class period without your textbook. And at lunch track down a janitor who could professionally approach the jam.

A figure shrouded in black slides up to the locker next to you, crossing its arms and leaning a shoulder against your neighbour’s locker while facing you. You peer over and see who decided to pull up. You blush quickly after registering that it was Eddie. “Locker jammed?” he prods, keeping his shoulder planted on the locker but lulling his head out to the side. “Yeah,” you admit “I know im doing my combonation correctly but its fucking jammed or somthing, I dunno”. His face lights up “I might actually have the cure for what you need - i've been here long enough to know how to doctor up a jammed padlock”. Nodding graciously you encourage him “really? Please - that would be so helpful!”. He nods once, gaining momentum to push himself up off the locker and stand in the now vacant space you've created by stepping aside.

He clutches the padlock in both his hands and zeros in, quirking his eyebrow and asking your locker code. “Fourteen, thirty five, eight” you say, eyes trained on the padlock instead of the intensity of his eyes on yours. 

“Don't worry” he comforts, "I won't use it for evil”. You giggle at him and earnestly reply “I know you won't”. He blushes at the implied complement, pursing his lips and quicking his entire mouth away from you to hide his growing grin. He quickly inputs your locker number, pinching the dial between his thick fingers and twisting it. With great force he's using the palm of his right hand to push the circular piece up into the shank of the padlock, releasing and pulling the lock open quickly just after. He gives you a proud look and a bow, gently placing the lock into your outstretched hands. “Thank you!” you say. To match his theatrics you add on “my hero!”, clutching your hands to your heart in a swooning motion. You try not to focus too much on him eyeing the contents of your locker. His eyes flitting between the clutter that lines it, assorted textbooks, trapper keepers, loose dollar bills and a lip gloss tube. You thank god that he doesn’t see the tampon that sits parallel to the wall, and even if he does he doesn’t comment on it. But, he does see the magazine cutout pasted to your lockers door. It seems like someone he’s recondize: Bon Jovi or Joan Jett but he’s stopped from his sleuthing when you slam the locker shut in front of him. “Ignore that” you warn.

After fixing your lock, Eddie doesn’t leave right away. He stays in your orbit, making small talk about the upcoming weekend and next period’s homework. You're both being quiet, creating a delicate bubble that separates you two from the rest of the buzzing hallway. But, your bubble is broken when Patrick McKinney and a few straggling dolts behind him stride past your locker. On his approach, he makes a dark face at you two. His jock-ey stride is perfectly calculated as he walks up to you both, he’s definitely got a wicked idea by the way his eye contact is unwavering. At the end of the day, his bullying isn’t creative, but it still never fails to make your face turn red with embarrassment each time he does so.

Now? Now is no different. He cups his hands, both magnifying his voice to the whole hallway and projecting his grating voice at you both. Through his cupped hands he makes comical moans at you both. His douchebags join in, attempting to imitate you moaning “Oh Eddie!!!” the boys cry “oh, ah! Eddie! Feels so good”. Chance, who is Patrick's second in command, is the next loudest. Making glaring eye contact with Eddie as he makes a lewd gesture, clasping his hands around the air infront of him and pulling it back into his hips, moaning and lulling his head as if he was Eddie fucking you and finishing prematurely.

At the moment, you can’t think of a more embarrassing thing to ever have happened to you. It’s not the thought of being with Eddie like that that's embarrassing, in fact it often crosses your mind while daydreaming in class. What's embarrassing had everything to do with the jocks. Their impression of you made you feel vulnerable and small. You feel your cheeks go hot, you place the backs of your fingers onto them, hoping to cool the heat rushing there.

After the jocks pass you, you dare a glance at Eddie. He is normally composed when being subject to teasing such as this, unfortunately as he’s become accustomed to it. This time though, Eddie seems small. His wet eyes seem to take up all the real estate on his face, pinked cheeks being hidden by a strand of hair he’s pulled out of his mouth to chew on. He definitely seems embarrassed, but his unwavering eye contact with the Jocks tells you that he’s thinking of a comeback. You want to say something to him, cut through the ick of the situation but you're unsure if that will only make the embarrassment worse.

But Eddie beats you to speaking, he’s calling Patricks name down the clearing hallway. At the promise of confrontation, Patrick swings his head around. He keeps a confident stride walking forward as he looks over his shoulder at you “Yeah, freak? You wan-” SLAM. Patricks head punches into someone's open locker, his head jolts back and his cap flys off in response. He immediately throws both of his hands to his forehead, applying pressure to the bruise forming on his forehead.

You look at Eddie mouth agape. You’re about to question him on how he timed that so perfectly. But Eddie shares the same expression of shock. Eyes still wide he squeaks “I did noooot mean to do that…” You and Eddie start breathlessly laughing at Patricks perfectly timed karma when the bell rings throughout the halls. Waving goodbye, you chuckle to yourself all the way to second period as you silently hope your locker will break again…

[frogsmulder]

if you are still taking prompts, how about 28. “I care about you.”

The Ties that Bind

Scully discovers and then reclaims a part of herself in the bedroom; cw light handcuffs/restraint; 2.1k words; rated m; tagging @today-in-fic​

Part 1: Fluff

She holds up the item with a mischievous drunken giggle, intoxicated on love lust and the champagne of Los Angeles. Mulder whistles loudly, taking the moment to drag his eyes appreciatively up and down her body and the way the little black dress hugs her curves, finally fixing on her outstretched arm as she holds the handcuffs aloft. His mouth hangs open in pure, incredulous amazement, lost for words as she swings them tauntingly and crawls up the plush hotel bed to meet him. The bureau spared no expenses with their Hollywood trip and limitless credit cards and it appears Scully has spared no expense either choosing the perfect moment to fulfil a wish he has shared with her once after the countless times they had made love. He wonders if it would be inappropriate to pop the question to her right at this very moment: the words are on the tip of his tongue and he feels like he is about to burst with love for her.

Scully stops in front of him, sitting back on her heels. She doesn’t hold her grin back but she does bite back the giggles that threaten to overflow, and the mischievous glint in her eye makes his heart swell. "Scully…" It is a murmur of wonder and a poem he utters everyday; one word and two syllables of love.

Impishly, she rests a finger on her lips and tosses the cuffs aside. Straddling his legs, she pulls the silk of his bow tie undone and kisses from his jaw to his ear. "I have thought about it–" a nibble on his lobe–"and…"

"And?" he breathes, caught in suspense.

"And… Yes, I will." She cups his face in both hands, leaning back to look into his eyes. "But I want to see what it’s like for myself first." She lets the cloth pool in his palm and steps back to slip out of the black dress. Standing before him expectantly, Scully licks her lips, tilting her head with a question.

Slowly, Mulder clenches his fist around the material. "Okay," He looks to the cloth and back at her, reading her intentions. "You want me to use this." It isn't a question but she nods anyway, her lower lip puckering between her teeth.

"Okay," he repeats with a breathy laugh, his brain list for any other words. He takes her awaiting outstretched wrists, gently wrapping the silk around once, loosely tying a simple double knot. Softly, he traces meaningless patterns over her skin when he is done, gazing up into her brilliant blue eyes. "Is that good?"

"Perfect." She can rotate her wrists in their hold, the friction of the silk tingling, but not slip free from the loop.

Mulder brings her wrists up to his lips and kisses their covering and a few extra to her sensory heightened skin. She gasps.

Pulling away, he finds her half lidded eyes. "I want you to know that I care about you."

She smiles. "I know."

"If you want to stop what will you say?"

Scully hadn't thought that she would need a safe word, but she quickly realises looking down that it could suddenly become overwhelming. The thought makes her mouth go dry. She has been tied up before but not remotely in the same way; not with the care, love and attention of Mulder. Scully knows he will never betray her trust but the sensations could get the better of her. Testing the bind with a few sharp tugs, she nods. "If I want to stop, I'll say stop."

He lets her take control, choosing how they want to do this: she needs to see his face but she wants to feel him and the weight of his body. Laying down, she brings her hands above her head and smiles as she exposes herself to his touch, devolving into occasional laughs of euphoria from both of them.

She finds that she likes the play with restraints because he takes his time loving her, slowly building her to a frenzy. When her orgasm finally rocks through her– her thighs clenching, chest arching, moans and gasps and curses spilling– she feels it all heightened from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair as if she's finally awake. It scares her slightly, as both their breathing evens out, that something as simple as Mulder's bowtie could make her feel so much. Understanding washes over her about the power of sensation and why Mulder had asked her and she nuzzles into his body as he strokes her hair and whispers of his love for her.

Part 2: Angst

To Scully, handcuffs used to symbolise justice: the power to protect vulnerable people and punish dangerous criminals. The beliefs that drove her forward in her career to do good. They used to symbolise love: her love for Mulder and Mulder's love for her, the gentle touch of his hands covering her body in sweet caresses. Yet now, looking at her own government issued handcuffs on the table, her tongue is caught between her lip and she chokes back an unsteady breath, forcing herself to look. Tighter, she wraps her dressing gown around her waist.

She rubs the phantom bruises that plague her wrists, her hands feeling as stiff and as cold as the last time she was forced to wear them. The bruises have long since gone, but the image of them hasn't. She wants already to be in control of her own mind and body, to not suffer this reaction to her own handcuffs. She hasn't carried them to work since the last time she was kidnapped and bound and helpless.

That is what they mean now: weakness, vulnerability, danger.

A tear slips down her cheek without her permission, but she forces herself to look. She scoffs and closes her eyes. The last time. There were too many times.

Scully hears Mulder's stumbling morning footsteps approach behind her before she feels his arms, warm and strong, wrap around her waist. Finding comfort in his embrace, she lets loose and sighs. He reaches for the handcuffs and slides them back into the draw they came from, out of sight; out of mind.

"You know," he murmurs into her cheek, "It's okay to feel like this, you don't have to force yourself to get over it." When she doesn't speak or move, he loves her with little kisses scattered over her hair, her ear and her shoulder, showing in all the ways he can't express how perfect she is.

Eventually, she turns to hug him back, burying her face in his chest, her grip strong and alive as that day he finally found her fearful to let him go. "But I hate this feeling. I hate that they've taken things I love and turned them against me. I hate what they've taken from me."

Considering for a moment, he pauses and then opens the draw again.

"Mulder?" She looks up at him with questioning eyes.

Mulder rubs her shoulders, the silk of the gown slipping like water under his hands. Before he asks her, he kisses her tenderly. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, bu–"

"Come back to bed with me."

"Mulder…" His thumbs draw little reassuring circles and when she looks in his eyes, she can’t see anything lustful, only care for her. "Okay," she says quietly.

In her bedroom, Mulder takes off yesterday’s t-shirt and boxers and gives Scully the key to the handcuffs, laying it flat in her palm and closing her fingers around it like a promise. Then, calmly, he turns to face away from her, presenting her with his wrists behind his back: offering himself, his trust, his love. She looks at the cuffs in her other hand and realises that he wants her to bind him. Scully clenches her shaking hand around the metal, heated to her touch, but still biting into her skin with its unyielding edges. She used to love it when he asked her to do this, the look of absolute thrill on his face whenever she said yes, the way his body heaved with anticipation lacing his breath.

She stares now at the contours of his back, the way his muscles curve, revealing his strength and softness. Putting the items on the floor, she slowly runs her fingers down his arms, locking her hands with his in a silent plea. "Mulder, I can’t… the way I felt…" The desperate loneliness, the lack of control, the feeling of drowning in her own incapability. "I won’t make you feel that: it was horrible… even a fraction of it."

Mulder loosens his stance, turning around and picking up the handcuffs. "These cuffs don’t define your experiences. Your experiences don’t define you. These cuffs won’t define you." He puts his hand through one and then the other. "To me, when I wear these I feel like there is nothing I need to worry about because you love me." He stretches his arms out to her again, giving her a second chance to secure the clasps. "I want to tell you how I feel when you put these on me, Scully–" something of a cheeky smirk slips into his demeanour–"But if you want to, we can stop at any time. Your call."

Scully reaches up to cup his cheeks, standing on tiptoes to kiss him. "Thank you." She brushes the words against his lips and gingerly tightens the locking mechanism, though not enough to be secure.

He guides her to the bed, where they both sit cross-legged in front of each other

"So, I already know that you feel loved and worry-free, what else do you feel?"

"I want you to touch me first." She is hesitant, but it wavers in the face of her curiosity as she leans forward to rest her hands over his. "I feel connected to you."

She laughs. At his encouragement, she moves her hands, gliding them over his arms and down his legs, and back again, soothing and grounding.

"I feel respected." Their eyes lock, his clear like green crystals with care as Scully continues to remind herself of what his body feels like under her hands. "I can see the hard physical evidence of my trust in you, knowing that you trust me too."

Scully kicks her lips and lets her thoughts unfold, sharing with him as he expresses his own vulnerability. "The first thing I ever did was trust you, even when you were bat-crap crazy."

"You saying I’m not now?"

She chuckles, ignoring his witty retort. "I think that was how I knew, deep down."

Mulder lifts his arms up and she crawls into his lap synchronously, working in harmony and to the rhythm of the same music only they shared. Placing soft kisses to his jaw, his cheek and his lips, Scully hums in contentment, pausing to take all of Mulder in, the flutter of his heart and everything he is to her, warming her beyond the chill of her fears.

He moves his arms from where they rest in her shoulders, down, down over her back circling her in a locked loop around her waist. She stills and breathes in the new sensation, allowing herself to remember the good parts: the connection he spoke of earlier, she can feel it and inches herself closer to him.

"I feel cared for."

She hums. "Because I care about you." It's a statement she lets them both hear; smiles as the words sink in. He presses his lips to her forehead and she rests in the quiet space they create.

Soon the quiet isn't filling enough and she is left needing more of him to satisfy the ache in her heart. Making use of the freedom of her hands, she brushes them over his chest, feeling through the soft hair scattered there. The clench of his abdominal muscles makes her cool the heat of her anticipation rising through her from her core to her cheeks. Occupying her fingers with the feel of his plump lips, ignites the final straw that consumes her. Her lips find his, quickly opening to his advances, chasing with promises of her own. She gasps and rocks against him when he kisses down her neck, mumbling his words to her skin so close and personal no-one else would have heard.

"You make me feel desirable

"Sexy.

"Aroused."

Scully hums again, closing her eyes and leaning back against his bound arms. She feels secure in his grasp, relaxed despite her previous fears. Eyes still closed she asks him, "Can we take them off now?"

Mulder rubs his hands up and down her back. "I think you left the key on the floor."

She regretfully disentangles herself from him to find the key, but the separation is short lived, as soon she is falling back into bed with him again. His kisses consume her and she gladly lets them, unable to get enough of him. As Mulder moves down her body, she realises that she feels okay–happy. A little piece of her has grown back in its rightful place.

[watermelonlipstick]

The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo

This is a request for anon, who asked: 

i don’t know if your requests are open, but if they are, could you do one where the reader has tattoos that dean doesn’t know about and then he sees them when he has to stitch them up after a hunt? (maybe like season 1 or 2 dean) thank you!!!

And then wrote to me privately that they have a dragon tattoo on one shoulder.

It was a lot of fun to write; tons of opportunities to slip in some good classic rock references! I miss in the super early seasons when Sam and Dean seemed to rag on each other pretty much constantly. I hope this is what you were thinking of!

Title: The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 2589 

Summary: Dean is surprised to discover the reader has tattoos.

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence/mention of blood, swearing, fluff!!

           Sam moves to the middle of the front bench to shuck off his coat as Dean is getting out of the car, and gives it to you with a long arm over the leather. “Can you hand me that blue jacket?”

           You have to over-rotate to use your other hand to grab it, keeping your grip tight on your own shirt in the most bastardized version of a sling. Sam, of course, notices.

           “You think it’s broken or dislocated?”

           A hard chuckle blows out of your nose. “Really hope it’s just dislocated, I’ll tell you that.”

           He gives you a sympathetic smile as he throws on the blue jacket and zips it all the way up to his neck. It looks like he’s covering something up and naturally, he is, thin hoodie and t shirt underneath drenched with enough werewolf blood that it’s clinging to his chest almost pornographically. But his face is untouched and he has use of both his arms which is more than can be said for you or Werewolf Shiner Winchester, making him the only reasonable choice to send for gauze and ACE bandages at the closest pharmacy.

           Dean stops his grimace-covered stretching just outside the car and opens your door with an outstretched hand as Sam slides into the driver’s seat. “You coming?”

           Taking his hand with your good one, you let Dean close the door behind you without any of the normal grumbling about treating you like you’re made of porcelain, in an effort to keep your face neutral around the jolts of pain through your shoulder. Sam pulls out of the motel parking lot ultra-gently like it’s his first day with a learner’s permit the way he does when he knows Dean is watching. It makes you smile to yourself as exhaust dissipates across the cracked blacktop.

           Crossing the asphalt with tired strides Dean opens the motel door for you too, and you walk in before him. “Is that yours?” he asks, dropping his coat on the cheap couch and wincing through the removal of his flannel. In the light of the room you’re better able to see his black eye and realize it’s going to take weeks for that to go away, not relishing another inevitable conversation about makeup to sell a G-man cover story. It makes it so much easier for the families of victims to believe you’re legit when none of you look like you’ve been in a bar fight, but getting Dean to believe cover-up is in the name of the greater good is an uphill battle on the best of days.

           “Is what mine?”

           “The blood you’re covered in like nacho cheese. Dude, if that’s all over the car—”

           He deserves credit for trying not to smile as you try to look over your shoulder like a puppy chasing its tail, but he does guide you over to the mirror on the wall to see. He’s right, blood has seeped all down your coat, sticky and shiny like syrup. It’s far too wet to be from near 30 minutes ago when you got in the car. “Fuck, I really like this jacket.”

           “You have like 5 just like it taking up space in my trunk; you’ll live. Here, take that off, I’ll stitch you up.” Dean starts rifling through his bag for supplies, rolling some kinks out of his neck.

           “It doesn’t even hurt, I just need you to pop my shoulder back in so I can take a shower.”

           “I don’t give a shit what hurts, slugger. You’re going to pass out in the tub if you keep up the stuck pig act.”

           You roll your eyes and reluctantly try to slide your arms out of the jacket, wincing when you jostle the dislocated arm. Dean takes the sopping coat from you and tosses it into the kitchenette sink from where he stands, the concern coloring his face when you look back at him not reassuring you at all. He puts the floss-threaded needle he’d had in his hand between his teeth and starts pulling on your collar.

           “Shoulder first,” you insist, done wiggling and writhing out of clothes before your shoulder is where it belongs.

           Dean’s mouth tightens into a firm line but he backs up to give himself enough room to shove, an exasperated hand beckoning you. “Okay, you ready?” he says around the needle, looking like a farmer field medic with a piece of hay.

           “Yeah just let me—FUCK,” you grunt when he catches you off guard without any preamble, clutching at the shoulder for a moment until you could take a deep breath. You do a test rotation and are happy at the relative lack of pain, trying not to be frustrated that Dean didn’t warn you so you wouldn’t tense up.

           “Shirt off.” Dean’s tone is firm and precise, no room for discussion, as he gets out a lighter and watches intently to heat up the needle.

           “Wow, you sure know how to make someone feel special,” you hum, feeling much looser without the shooting pain from your shoulder. The buttons of the flannel come undone relatively easy, but the fabric makes a sickly wet thwack as you snap it down to rest around your elbows.

           From his spot at your side, you see Dean’s face contort in surprise and watch as he reflexively reaches out a thumb to rub the skin of your shoulder.

           “Ow, what the hell?” you flinch.

           “Has this always been here?” he asks, partly amazed but mostly incredulous as his eyes trace the inky lines of the dragons where they wind around your skin.

           “I wasn’t born with them if that’s what you mean.” You can tell he’s truly shocked because he doesn’t even react to the jab, just hovers a gentle fingertip over the tattoo. “Earth to Dean? I thought you were all scared about me bleeding out.”

           He gulps and clears his throat before covering with a smile that’s a combination of cheeky and shy. “Right, yeah, sorry. Just didn’t realize I was in the presence of The Tattooed Wonder.”

           “Hardly, I only have a few. Now start stitching before I change my mind and wait for Sam; his are way neater than yours anyway.”

           “Few? Where are the other ones? Girls on the back of your leg that hula when you walk?”

           “Nice try.”

           He bites his lip before shifting the strap of your tank top off and sponging the back of your shoulder with a wet towel. When he unceremoniously pours a slug of whiskey over the wound you feel it for the first time and hiss, adrenaline and distraction of the joint pain worn off.

           “Sorry,” he murmurs, already dragging floss tight on a stitch with his teeth and moving on to the next as quickly as he can, half-humming that old Queen song, “gonna get me on the track, got a dragon on my back.”

           You weren’t lying earlier when you’d said that Sam’s stitches were usually cleaner, but Dean is being very careful in a way he usually isn’t—Chicks dig scars, Sammy! Stopped the bleeding, didn’t it?—and you tip your head back to check his work. The extra time he’s taking is to match up the back of one of the dragons, ripped open by a werewolf claw and currently held together by the delicate pinch of Dean’s index and thumb.

           It’s tough, but you manage to grab the reins on a smirk. Dean doesn’t notice, too focused on trying to keep the damage to your tattoo at a minimum. The gesture and the concentration are impossibly sweet, even though you’d long accepted that ink injury was inevitable with your lifestyle.

           When he’s done, callused fingertips tugging the last knot in place, Dean grabs the whiskey again. “Hold still,” he breathes, close enough you can feel it dance across the skin of your neck, and you hope he can’t see the goosebumps trailing down your arms like ivy. “That should do it. You can grab the first shower, but it’s big enough that some gauze on top for a few days wouldn’t hurt.”

           “Thanks,” you answer, startled and annoyed at your own voice when it creaks a touch. The flannel feels gross and heavy with blood, so you pull your arms out entirely and reach to drop it in the wastebasket.

           “I can deal with that if you want,” he offers, ruffling the velvet-short hair at the back of his neck. “The coat too. Not the first time getting blood out of clothes.”

           “Oh, okay. Uh, thanks. That would be really nice.”

           Dean only meets your eyes for the most fleeting moment when he takes it before biting his lip again and nodding to himself. You get to your feet and gingerly slip the displaced straps back over your shoulder, feeling the shift in energy in the room and not knowing what to do with it. Settling for a jocular little punch to Dean’s bicep, you grin at him. “Thanks for putting me back together, doc.”

           Sam comes back a couple minutes after you’ve closed the bathroom door with a translucent plastic bag full of first aid supplies. “In the shower?”

           Dean looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch and hands Sam the beer he’d already gotten out of the fridge in anticipation, his leg bouncing rapidly. “Yeah. They have everything?”

           His younger brother nods and accepts the bottle, taking a sip before laying out his haul on the coffee table and tossing the bag. “You okay?”

           He glances up with a quirked eyebrow. “Just tired, man.”

           Sam waits a silent beat, giving Dean a chance to spill whatever it is.

           “Did you, ah—did you know Y/N’s all inked up like a friggin’ sailor?”

           Sam chuckles and runs his tongue over his teeth. “A sailor? Y/N’s only got a few tattoos, dude.”

           “You knew?”

           “Of course I knew, some people like to learn things about their friends. That’s why you’re acting weird?”

           Dean scowls over the glass lip of his beer before taking a long pull. “Not acting weird, sue me for being surprised we’re working with the goddamn Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo.” His voice is low and surly like a kid on the edge of a tantrum even he knows isn’t worth it.

           “Y/N can do whatever they want, Dean. It doesn’t matter if you like the tattoos, you’re not their dad.” Sam’s barely keeping the giggle out of his voice, enjoying Dean’s frustration the way only a little brother could.

           “No, I don’t—it’s not that I don’t like them,” Dean stammers, the end of the statement fading off as a flush starts rising in his cheeks. He knows he’s said too much and Sam jumps on it.

           “Wait—you do like them, don’t you?” He crashes onto the couch, long limbs just enough in Dean’s space to be irritating. “I bet you loooooove knowing about those tattoos—I bet you’re dying to see them.”

           “Shut the fuck up,” Dean growls, kicking Sam in the thigh with a socked foot. Sam blocks him and starts laughing hard enough it makes him rattle all over like he’s on a rickety rollercoaster. When he finally catches his breath Dean is still pouting to whatever syndicated sitcom he’d thrown on. Over the tinny TV speakers they hear the shower turn off.

           “You know, if you’re feeling shy I could say something for you.” Sam’s grin is ten steps past cheeky, firmly planted in devilish, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively over top of dimples perfectly sliced into his cheeks.

           Dean’s eyes widen like a cartoon and his voice is a gravelly hiss as he grabs a tight handful of Sam’s t-shirt, now crisp with dried blood. “Sam, I fucking swear to God—” but the threat is ineffectual, sheepish panic clear as anything on his face. The glint in Sam’s eye brightens and he twists out of his brother’s grip before he can react, crossing the room in a few huge steps so he’s nearly face to face with you when you open the bathroom door, Dean leaping off of the couch to chase him and slamming into Sam’s back when he stops short.

           “Whoa, Jesus—you scared the shit out of me,” you breathe, one hand on top of your fresh t-shirt to still your racing heartbeat, fistful of dirty laundry in the other.

           “Just need that second shower, didn’t mean to freak you out!” Sam smiles, warm and light and genuine. “Thanks! Gauze is on the table if you want it.” he says as he slips past you with a friendly and familiar kiss on the cheek, wink that you can’t see to Dean over your shoulder as he closes the bathroom door fast enough that the mirror next to the frame barely even steams.

           “Hey, could you—” you start.

           “Hey, do you—” Dean says at the exact same time. You both chuckle, and you can’t tell if you’re annoyed or not that the little charge in the room didn’t dissolve while the dried blood on you had rinsed down the shower drain. Dean holds up an open palm to indicate that you should go first.

           “Could you cover those stitches for me? The skin is kind of catching on my shirt.”

           “Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

           Shaking your hair loose and hanging the towel it was in on the back of a kitchenette chair, you sit on the edge of the bed to tug the collar of your t-shirt as far onto your shoulder as you can. Dean snatches some medical tape and a couple 4x4s from the table and sits down next to you, the heat coming off of him soothing the chill of the few remaining drops of water cooling on your skin. “I’m gonna need more slack than that,” he says, trying to be matter-of-fact but not quite covering the gooey softness around the edges that are making his voice more sultry than gruff. You try to pull harder on the collar but it’s already digging into your neck. The hand holding the gauze floats down to Dean’s lap while he rubs his jaw with the other. “Do you—could you just take it off?”

           You roll your eyes at him.

           “Or live with it, see if I care.” He holds your gaze, and that stubbornness you recognize.

           Reluctantly, you move your arm inside the shirt and slip it out from under the bottom hem, squirming in a way that covers your chest while exposing your shoulder. When he sweeps the shirt back you reflexively jolt away from him like you’ve been shocked. “Not being fresh, just don’t want to tape it in,” he murmurs.

           “I noticed you put the lines together really straight; thanks for that.”

           “Only took an extra second.” He rips another piece of tape off a roll with his teeth and is being so deliberate that now you’re sure he’s stalling for another few seconds to keep touching you but you don’t care; the feeling of his fingertips on your skin is tender and delicious.

           “If I knew you were going to be that careful, I would’ve been letting you do my stitches this whole time.”

           “Guess I’m just a regular damn seamstress,” he smiles, finally smoothing the last tape and only surreptitiously glancing out of the corner of his eye as you tuck your arm back into its sleeve. “So seriously, what’re the other tattoos?”

           “I’m sure you’ll see them soon enough,” you whisper as you stand up, committing to memory the way it makes Dean’s pupils flare as you ease under the scratchy motel sheets on the opposite bed.

-

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[one-boring-person]

Hey again! I know I just asked for one and I don’t wanna be bothersome, but I saw that Raymond Tango is on your list and I was hoping I could get an imagine with him and maybe Gabriel Cash as well?

Something like the reader works at the prison where they end up and helps them out when they’re jumped? Or whatever scenario you can think of 😁 Please add a lot of flirting if you can

I actually watched Tango and Cash and the Expendables because of your imagines 😆 And I’ll probably keep discovering more awesome movies thanks to you!

I also had an idea for Rambo where the fireworks on the 4th of July trigger his ptsd and the reader is there to comfort him? (It was Canada Day today so there were fireworks in my hometown to celebrate and I got the idea for it 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Thank you so very much!!! 💕

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like this!😊❤

Tip-Off.

Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash)

Warnings: injury, swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun use

Masterlist

Finally, I manage to fling the door open, the thick metal clanging loudly as it slams against the wall, announcing my arrival to the room behind it. Gritting my teeth, I crash through it, yelling out to the inmates I know are gathered there, my standard handgun held at the ready. I hate to use it, but I know very well that many of the people turning to face me won't move unless threatened by something a little more dangerous. 

The room is lit with a drab light, keeping most of the thugs' faces cast in shadow as they turn towards me, shouts of surprise and panic filling the air. As if startled by a ghost, the lot of them suddenly retreat into the darkness, doors banging open and shut around the perimeter, many of them cursing loudly as they clear out. Frowning, I move further into the room, shouting at them hoarsely, my head rotating quickly to make sure I'm not being ambushed by any of them. Thankfully or not, they disappear quickly, leaving me alone in the deserted area with two familiar people hanging by their necks from the ceiling above large troughs of water. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the water is electrified, a sparking cable lying a metre or so away. 

"Hey, hey, what's going on?! Don't just leave us hanging here, kill us or let us down! You shitbrains!" I groan in realisation as I notice exactly who is hanging from the ceiling, the two captives facing away from me.

"Are those my only options, or would you rather I tried to get you down?" I call out to the only one of them who is actually moving, walking round to face them.

"Huh? Who're you?" It's Raymond Tango, the one still writhing on his hook. His partner, Gabriel Cash, hangs listlessly, head drooped, blood dripping from his lip.

"The reason you're still alive." I frown, tapping Cash's foot.

"Oh, it's you. Feel like helping me down?" Ray stares at me, fear still bright in his eyes as he shifts in his bindings.

"Don't sound too grateful. I just saved your ass." I roll my eyes, but move to start helping him.

Going closer, I ignore the dark-haired man's expectant expression, bowing so that I can heave the troughs of water out of the way, first. It isn't easy: the containers weigh tonnes, their contents sloshing all over the place as I brace my shoulder against the battered steel, muscles straining to dislodge them. A grating screech sounds from the base of the troughs as they rasp along the hard ground, but I eventually manage to get them clear, panting by the time they're significantly out of the way. 

"Ok, this is probably gonna hurt a bit." I warn Ray, before going over to the knots at the end of the ropes holding them up.

"What is- argh!" The detective yelps in surprise as he drops unceremoniously from the ceiling, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor.

I leave Gabe's line for now, going over to help Ray up as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. Untying him, I check him over for any particularly bad wounds.

"Couldn't you have done that a little less painfully?" Ray grumbles as he moves to sit upright, wiping away blood from his nose, groaning. 

"Sorry, next time I'll bring a mattress." I roll my eyes again, "You'll live. Now help me with Cash."

"Can't we just leave him there? He makes quite a nice light fixture." Ray jokes dryly, climbing wearily to his feet.

Shooting him a pointed look, I try to ignore the small spike in my pulse as I regard the dishevelled detective, not for the first time admiring his chiselled good-looks. Swallowing down the idle thoughts, I move back to the end of Gabe's line.

"Catch him, will you?" I tell Ray, loosening the knot, Cash's limp body dropping ever so slightly as I do so.

"The lump'll crush me!" He complains, but goes to stand underneath him anyway, reaching up to brace Cash's thighs with a grimace.

"You know, your jibes would have much more effect if he were awake." I smile wryly.

Ray doesn't say anything, but sends me a quick smirk anyway, knowing I'm right. 

Turning away, I untie the knot completely, looking back to see Cash fall onto Tango, his torso rocking precariously as the latter struggles to hold him up. Rushing over, I reach out, arms outstretched as the two start to fall, Gabe landing heavily in my grip, throwing us all to the floor. We land heavily, a dull pain erupting in my back from the impact.

Winded, I lie there, Gabe on my chest, Ray on his rival's stomach, breathing heavily as we try to recover. Against me, Gabe shifts slightly, moaning in his unconsciousness, making me force myself to sit upright, his head now in my lap, Ray still trying to catch his breath on his back. Looking down at the man on my thighs, I brush aside some hair from his face, swiping away a little blood from his lip, glancing up to see Ray staring at me, jaw tight. Confused, I go to say something, my brow cocked, only to stop when a pained voice trickles up from between us.

"This isn't what I expected from the afterlife." Gabe murmurs, eyes barely open as he gazes up at me, licking his dry lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cash." Ray jumps in, pushing himself back up.

Frowning, Gabe lifts his head, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again, the sharp response clearly struggling to materialise.

"Come on, let's get you untied." I chuckle, moving to shift out from under the detective in my lap.

Gabe groans, whining as I roll him over, Tango reaching over to loosen the knots of his ties. Once free, he lazily tries to return to his original position, only to complain when he finds out I've moved. Now standing, I look down at the two with a fading smile, quickly becoming serious as I think back over the gravity of the situation. The two notice, joining me in standing, Gabe rapidly adjusting his clothes as Ray wipes blood from his lip.

"Whoever set you guys up has a serious problem with you two." I muse, scratching my chin in consternation.

"Wait, you believe us?" Ray sounds surprised, his rival regarding me with a similar expression. 

"About what?"

"The setup." 

Glancing at him, I tilt my head.

"Yeah, of course. What, you thought I was one of the bribed guards? After all the tip-offs I gave you both?" I shake my head in exasperation.

"Pretty dumb, if you ask me, Tango." Cash comments, smirking as he runs a hand through his hair, betraying his nerves.

"And who didn't listen to the tip-offs?" I tease him, grinning as Ray sends him a pointed look. 

"Hey, I've had a lot on my mind!" Gabe protests, before he conspiratorially rakes his gaze over me, "A certain someone in particular."

Blushing, I wave him off, muttering a quick "behave" before gesturing for the two detectives to follow after me.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Ray hisses to Gabe as they limp along behind me, a scoff following this as we reach the door I came through.

"And you think you're better? Come on, man, I've seen you staring at her when she does her rounds. Your cellmate practically has to wipe the drool from your chin." 

"I'm not deaf, you know." I sigh, leading them into a side room,  where a desk and few chairs have been pushed to the wall, a couple of pieces of equipment sat neatly where I left them.

The two men enter behind me, frowning at the sight of the small room, confused by its purpose. Naturally, Gabe is quick to recover and goes straight to one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning back in it, head tilted back so that his mane of golden hair falls down between his shoulder blades. Ray eyes him disdainfully, only to take a seat near him, running a hand through his own hair, muscular arms flexing as he does so. It's a struggle for me to keep my eyes averted from them both as I go to the table in the centre and take out my first aid kit, opening it to check inside. 

"Ok, who's first?" I finally look up at them both, my cheeks warming up as I am met with two intense stares, neither looking away as I make eye contact.

"I'll go!" Gabe interrupts Ray before he can speak, hopping up and coming over to me, leeching on the table with a grin.

Shaking my head, I take some gauze and start to clean out the worst wounds he received, which I soon find are not particularly bad, so I move to check that he's not concussed at all. Removing a small penlight from my keys, I hold it up to his face, placing a finger under his chin to level his head properly. 

"Ok, stare straight ahead." I tell him, not quite realising why he's smirking until I realise that he's decided to stare straight at me, blue eyes fixed on mine. Shaking my head, I once more ignore the blush on my cheeks as I check if his eyes are dilating properly, quickly moving to check his response as I move my hand in front of his face. Thankfully he seems to be ok, everything working as it should be. 

"All done." I tell him, placing the penlight down on the desk beside him, glancing back up in time to see him leaning in. Surprised, I have no time to react before he's pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, the blonde smirking as he hops off the bench, eyes glittering mischievously. 

Ray makes a sound of disapproval, glaring at Gabe as his rival steps past, muscles tensed up as he tries to fight back the (very) obvious jealousy. Quickly, he takes Cash's place on the table, looking at me gratefully as I start cleaning up the wound on his head. His dark eyes don't leave mine the entire time, unnerving me a little.

"So what do we do now?" He eventually asks, voice low as I stand close to him to make sure the cut is properly dressed.

"You guys need to get out of here." I muse, chewing my lip as I work, "It's just how we're gonna do it that's difficult."

"We?" Gabe sounds hopeful, though I can hear a little jealousy in his tone. This confuses me, until I realise why: Ray has gently placed a hand on either side of my waist, most likely under the pretense that he needs a hold to ground himself. 

"Y-Yeah, we. I don't think you two will make it out without help." I tell him, calming my nerves as my pulse picks up, swiping the gauze over Ray's head once more before taking up the penlight again.

"And you're offering? Won't that lose you your job?" Ray questions, surprised at what I've said.

I sigh, standing back upright once I've checked his eyes.

"If I get caught, yeah, it will. At least it'll be for good reason." I shrug, stepping back out of Ray's grip, somewhat reluctantly.

Taking advantage of this, Gabe steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on my lower back. Unused to this kind of affection, I look up at him, expression somewhat blank as he speaks.

"You're sure about that?" He queries, searching my face for hesitation.

"Yeah, I am. What happened to you two wasn't fair, so I think it's good if you get your revenge." I nod firmly, glancing back at Ray, who smiles at me, "Look, I'll come up with a plan as soon as I can. For now, you two need to try and stay alive."

"Easier said than done." Ray murmurs, but agrees nonetheless.

"For you, we will." Gabe teases, tapping my chin with a grin.

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 3

Maul x Sith Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Drinking, fluff

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      Alas, all moments come to an end. This one, with your eyes lazily opening to the slightest appearance of red sunlight outside the viewport above your head. You stretched and realized you were in a bit of an entanglement of limbs with your master. Your legs intertwined behind you. His chest pressed firmly to your back and his arms wrapped around your stomach, your hands holding his around you.

    Still mostly asleep, he pulled you closer to him and grumbled something about a few more minutes and a small smile danced across your lips. However, not wanting this precarious position to warrant any kind of awkward conversation you slipped from his grasp and made your way to the door. Looking back for just a moment to see his red and black hand patting around where you once lay. Trying not to chuckle you strode off the ship, greeting Angel who had returned from his hunt. You began your morning strength training because at the end of the day, nothing had changed. At the same time everything had, you just didn't realize it yet.

 ~~~~~

      Cold air pricked at Maul's skin, now exposed due to your absence. His eyes opened just in time to see his bedroom door shut behind you. He refrained from getting up too quickly and instead rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose.

    Why could he still smell your sweet earthy scent? Why did your hair tickle his cheek in such gentle way? He breathed a heavy sigh, trying as he might to push these intrusive thoughts from his mind. You were his apprentice, and a powerful one at that with the potential to go down in history as one of the strongest Sith lords in the galaxy, he couldn't risk that outcome. You had simply needed reassurances after experiencing a trauma that wasn’t conductive to your training. He still wished you were lying beside him though.

    He took the opportunity to glance out of the view port and watched you doing push-ups beside your Angel. He observed you when you stopped and looked at the beast who met your gaze, picking up his robe and walking over to a tree. You held up the robe in front of your body and when it fell you were nowhere in sight. The rancor started whining and sniffing the fallen robe before you popped out from the top of the tree exploding with laughter at the creature’s surprise. The ground shook as the semi-sentient being chased you around the camp. Still howling with laughter, you stayed just out of his grasp.

    Maul shook his head and smiled at your simplistic joy, feeling the power around you swell from the emotion. A prime example of what you had told him last night. He made his way to the kitchenette and readied some hot caf while searching for food, coming across some fresh bread, no doubt you had made the evening before trying to stave off sleep before succumbing in the chair. Astounded at how crisp and fluffy it was.

    Taking his time, he sauntered out of the ship with two cups of caf to find you perched in a tall tree, just out of the reach of your frustrated pet.

"If you're done playing with your little friend, we have work to attend to young one.”

"Of course Master, my apologies for my distraction." You called, pretending to faint off of your branch only to be caught in Angel's hand. "Thank you, cutie." You cooed before making your way over to your master, still a look of amusement on your face. The rancor, now bored, walked back over to his makeshift nest and closed his eyes.

Gratefully accepting the outstretched mug, you took a long heavenly swill and rolled your eyes.

"I honestly can't tell if your affections for the beast are genuine or a long-lasting joke."

"Eh, kinda both I guess. Well, it started out as a joke for sure but I am starting to love that monster. Like I said last night, he’s a good boy.”

"You do realize we can't take him with us, yes?"

"Yes, master I'm fully aware I can't smuggle a fully grown rancor under my bunk or inside a cabinet when we do leave this place." You chuckled. "Still, I have this... unrelenting feeling that I will need him before we disembark."

"Tis the will of the force..." Maul took another sip of the hot beverage. "Or you're bordering on the edge of insanity." He smirked quite pleased with himself. Forgetting for a moment that he was your master you bumped him with your hip, "ugh I'm wounded."

"You will be if we don't work on what you call forms with your saber," returning your bump.

"Fair enough." You sighed, downing the last of your caf.

    Hours went by and you hadn't even sparred. He continuously worked you through forms. Constantly having to stop you and roughly reposition your hips, arms or legs when you weren't taking the verbal ques as well as he liked. His brow creasing deeper the longer you went on. You made progress but it was painfully slow. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, an almost trademarked gesture at this point.

"That's enough, take a few minutes. I don't know who needs a break more, you or I."

You groaned and flopped onto the pressed ground, hard.

    Maul sat a few feet away from you, legs crossed under him silent for a few minutes before he spoke confounded.

"I don't understand. You can create lightning, touch the minds of beasts, sense the force in the planet amongst other talents I'm sure you have that I haven't seen yet. I've seen you other weapons, wielding that spear you made like you were born with it clutched in your grasp and your standard hand to hand combat is... graceful, fluid yet grounded, strong and sure but as soon as you pick up this blade in particular it's as if that all falls away. Why?"

"The crystal within this weapon is not mine. It belonged to the Jedi T'chooka D'oon and every time I ignite it, I can feel his presence. Watching me. A voiceless whisper constantly reminding me that I was unworthy of the teachings of the Jedi I didn't even want. Try as I might to scratch that itch, to stave the prickling I haven’t been able to push his soul completely out. Only pissing him off apparently."

Your master contemplated this newfound information.

"The crystal hasn't been tortured enough." The question in your eyes shone as you turned to him. Maul continued.

"When a Sith steals a saber from a jedi they must torture it until the presence leaves and the saber turns red. You seem to have done enough to change the pigment but not drive away the light force within. I'm afraid you have stolen the weapon of a rather powerful jedi, despite the fact that he fell to the Droid General Grievous."

"It doesn't feel right in my hands. Something does call to me from afar though.. A thought rings in my mind but I don't know if there's truth in it or wishful thinking."

    Maul uncrossed his legs and faced you. One knee bent, resting his arm on it, the other extended just barely brushing his foot to yours.

"What is this thought?"

You turned, laying on your side and propped your head on your hand but not pulling your foot away from his.

"Is it possible... to form a crystal of your own. Not find one in the jedi temples but to create one?"

"Hmmm, further proof you are indeed connected strongly with those who came before you. An almost archaic rite of passage for the Sith of old. They stopped and simply found it easier to corrupt a jedi's kyber but they did in fact used to make their own. If there's anywhere in the universe that the means to do still exist it will be in the temple on Malachor. Perhaps a crystal for you already exists there if you’re feeling a pull."

    You nodded in understanding. Looking to him with another unspoken question. He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Yes, we can go. I estimate that Savage won't return to normal for another few weeks. Besides, I told you we would get you some clothes of your own. You can't wear mine forever."

"True, but it's a shame. They look so much better on me." Maul chuckled at this as he stood up taking a moment to admire you. "That may be the case but I had them first and I can be very territorial." He extended his hand and helped you to your feet.

"Kiss your little friend over there good bye and meet me in the cockpit."

"But of course Master." You drawled while giving him an obnoxious bow.

    He watched you as you bid Angel farewell and the two of you turned to walk different directions. You towards the ship and him back to the forest. Eagerly you scrambled onto the ship and took the seat at your master's side within the cockpit. He punched in the coordinates to Corellia once you left the atmosphere so you could refuel and restock supplies. The stars stretched as the ship went into hyperspace and you threw your hands in the air as if you were on a rollercoaster. Maul simply gave you a side eye.

"Ugh." You groaned. "I miss Savage he always laughs at my jokes." This made Maul smile, happy you didn't seem to hold anything against his brother.

"Get comfortable, it's a long flight. We will be stuck in here for about two standard rotations."

"Alright, alright I hear you."

    You stood and made your way towards the common area in the middle of the ship. Rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat or something to do, boredom already getting the better of you just at the thought of being in a small space. You didn't hear your master leave the cockpit and stand in the doorway to watch you.

"If you're already bored it's going to be a miserable flight for you." You jumped, completely and utterly caught.

"How did you sneak up on me, no one can."

He smirked and opened the one drawer you hadn't yet, pulling out a deck of cards.

"I am the master am I not?" He sat and shuffled the cards nodding towards your usual seat.

"You might be my Master but I'm the master when it comes to sabacc. Deal at your own risk."

"I believe I'll take that risk."

    After both winning and losing a few hands in silence and with small talk Maul asked you, "so where did you learn to play."

"I watched adults play outside cantinas when I was a youngling. One of the patrons, an older man noted my interest and offered to teach me. It put food in my belly most nights. You?"

"My Master taught me also when I was young." He played a card. "It was the only time I can remember where I wasn't sleeping, training or learning some kind of lesson. Did your kin not worry about you hanging around old men outside a cantina or teach you the game themselves"

"I lost them before I was old enough to play. Although I'm sure they would've worried should they had been around during my cantina days." Now you played a card.

Maul leaned back in his chair not taking his eyes off of his hand. "How did they die?" You paused at this, causing Maul to take a quick glance at you. A painful look on your face lay just behind your eyes. It was not one that he had seen before. Snapping out of it you smirked. "Another time perhaps master." You laid down a winning hand looking quite pleased with yourself and sticking your tongue out playfully.

"You're a sore winner." He snarled but there was humor laced in his words. You simply shrugged.

"I'm a Sith. Aren't we supposed to be a sore everything?" He smiled and threw his hand down telling you to shuffle and deal while he grabbed a few glasses and a bottle of Cassandran Brandy.

 ~~~~~

      Countless rounds had been lost and won between the two of you. The more you drank the easier your face flushed and you could have sworn Maul eyed your form more than a few times. Your eyelids were starting to feel heavy as your master spoke up.

"Alright apprentice, you've lost the last five rounds in a row its painfully obvious it’s time to rest."

"One more round!" You protested "I'm not tired yet."

"Fine but let's make it interesting.." the brandy had given him inflated courage thinking back on the previous night when he could hold you. Wanting that feeling again.

"If I win.. you’ll share my bed with me again. If you win... I'll share my bed with you." He had hoped you were too drunk to catch that. You weren't but you pretended to be.

"You're on."

    Like the last five rounds you lost this one too, groaning in defeat. Maul just chuckled and stood as you did.

"Deals a deal and I'm exhausted." You told him. He very gently guided you back to his room so you wouldn't stumble. He tossed a clean tunic over your direction and made his way towards the fresher. Not moving until you heard the water running you grinned and smelled the new garb. It smelled like him still. You smiled. Once you were dressed you hopped under the covers and lay your head down.

    His bed was much more comfortable than yours was. You closed your eyes as you heard the water shut off.

 ~~~~~

      Maul stood in the doorway and observed you for just a second. He had thought you were asleep so you surprised him when you lifted your head and met his gaze.

"Are you coming? It's chilly up here in space and I swear you must run at a thousand degrees."

    He shook his head trying to contain a grin. "You're so impatient apprentice."

But still he made his way to the bed and lay next to you. Not wanting to initiate contact, fearing you might construe his intentions. To his inner delight you turned and draped yourself over him. Taking his arm and wrapping it around you. Knowing you couldn't see his face he smiled widely, holding you tightly. With his free hand he ran his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep. He wasn't far behind you.

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Kon’s Dark & Light Performance

Music Here:  The Glitch Mob - Head Full of Shadows The stage becomes dark, pitch dark. The first elements of light that came to it are from a series of LEDs all suddenly pulsing to life synched to the music in the shape of a giant wheel held stationary by tiny floor braces. Standing in front of that wheel is the silhouette of an elven body. Kon stands there with his head downcast, hands at his side. He wears a white silken shirt that is only tied halfway up his chest, white performance slacks with a silver sparkling sheen over the top of them and barefoot. Around his eyes is a white mask of owl feathers but these are each dipped in dark paint at the tips and coated with silver glitter. His outfit seems designed to catch the light of the LEDs that silhouettes his form now. While bright, the LED’s are scattered, broken in their pattern. Slowly, Kon raises his left hand up and out to his side looking towards it. The hand reflects no light at all, blackened with black paint up to his elbow. He then turns his head to the right as he raises his right hand up and out to his opposite side. That hand is covered in white paint to his elbow with those silver sparkles on it catching and reflecting the light behind him.

Synched with the music, the scattered broken LEDs along the wheel goes out all at once as a small bar of golden light would track around the full circumference of the cyr wheel. As the music pulses, the bar reaches where it begins and the LEDs illuminate once more for two seconds around the full wheel. Still in that broken scattered twinkling before going out and repeating the cycle of darkness with the single bar of golden light tracking the wheel only to fully light up again in the broken pattern with every pulse of the music. It seems like the wheel is stuck, malfunctioning, glitched. Turning, he steps to the side of the wheel. His right hand slowly reaches out and takes a hold of the side of the wheel. The moment the sparkling hand touches the wheel the LEDs start to illuminate in a solid beam of light above and below his hand slowly tracking the full circumference of the wheel till every scattered LED now lit up, the full circuit completes. 

Stepping forward towards the center of the wheel, he manipulates the wheel to spin in an orbit around him while standing in the middle of it. As he pushes down and catches with the darkened hand, the LEDs turn to a broken blue light pattern. When he catches and pushes the wheel with his glittering hand, it glows a full solid golden color. As he continues this coin spin motion faster and faster around him the LEDs remain synched with the music, alternating patterns and colors with each hand that guides it. At the last second, he steps into the wheel fully as the LEDs go out and the stage goes dark!

The LEDS react immediately in sync with his hands both gripping the top of the wheel now as the music escalates, lighting up in an interesting maze pattern that almost reflects a circuit board. Quickly tucking his feet beneath himself he is left dangling from the top of the wheel as he sends the wheel into a faster spin. The faster he spins the more the pattern ghosts around him to the audience’s eye!

Lowering his feet back down he slows the wheel’s spin. In sync with the music’s pause, he slides his feet outside the wheel on either side, stopping it entirely as all goes dark again! A powerful 5 second pulse of golden light lit up around the wheel, powerful enough the LEDs illuminated the front side of Kon entirely, shadowing the back. Facing the wheel he walks with his glittering hand leading it in a wide circling arc before all went dark. A second powerful 5-second pulse of blue light now lit up around the wheel fully illuminating the backside of Kon this time as it seemed to be spinning around him freely in a boomerang motion before the lights fade again. A third 5-second pulse of deep red illuminates Kon entirely as he transitions into a walking waltz within the wheel for a few steps around the stage before it goes dark again! Suddenly the LEDs lit up for 10-seconds in a scatter pattern of gold and white light chasing one another around the wheel as the wheel itself was seen mid flop. It flops twice around Kon before he steps right through it on the third then kneels down with hands to the stage. Two more free flops as it then came down flopping right over the top of him before flopping back upright. He  stands in sync with the motion and catches it with his glittering hand.

Using both hands, he heavily spun the wheel so it was now spinning upright in one place illuminating a solid bright white light only. He turns and walks over to the right of the stage leaving the wheel there spinning still on its own as he undoes the ties on his shirt. Spreading his arms wide he starts sliding the shirt down over his shoulders before tossing it behind him. Letting that intense white light reflect off his well-built chest he slowly steps back up to the wheel, reaching out with both hands to catch and stop it. Quickly he lowers the wheel toward himself before then raising it back up as he ran through the wheel and jumped doing a full-body flip up and over the top of the wheel before landing inside it as he knelt there for a moment in stillness with the music.

He steps into the wheel and quickly begins a waltzing spin center stage, pivoting on one foot to keep it spinning in sync with the music. A slow buildup much like a heartbeat, each time it pulses the LEDs glow in a solid fade of all 7 colors of the rainbow individually,  always illuminating off his outfit and keeping him silhouetted. At the final pulse the LEDs glitch and scatter as he suddenly sends the wheel upside down. The wheel continues to waltz while Kon remains in a handstand within it. Spinning the wheel faster and faster with the use of one leg kicking in and out. The scatter pattern of the LEDs start to come together to show an actual intended criss cross of blue and red light all along it again ghosting around him as he spins!

With a sudden shift of his body, he shows his astonishing precision and balance to keep the wheel in constant motion. Placing his feet and arms both spread wide with a slight bend in the knees he brings the wheel to a very fast rotation. The wheel starts moving in a wide full revolution around the full circumference of the stage. Faster and faster he spins illuminating the stage with his highly energetic cyr wheel as the LEDs start to take shape. The audience can see the outlines of individual stars all the way around the wheel as they strobe with the wild beat of the music in various colors! 

Slowing his spin only minutely, he throws his body weight hard onto one foot to send the wheel spinning more center stage. The LEDs shift as the stars shrink in size till they become mere tiny red specks among a bright, intense solid blue now illuminating his whole body.  With hands both gripping the top of the wheel in a wide outstretched grip he raises both feet off the wheel and extends his legs outward while facing down, ankles together and toes pointed. Mimicking a flying motion soaring midair, the musculature of his backside shines in the glow of the LED lights as various red stars flicker with the music.

Placing his feet back down within the wheel he slowed it greatly as he kept himself locked with arms and legs held wide within it. Rolling to the side he began to roll around and around as the wheel rolled in a circle center stage. Twinkling with the timing of the music the LEDs strobe as they cycle through every color of the rainbow, each illuminating Kon as he keeps full control of the wheel. Eventually, he stops as he lets go with one hand and foot to make the wheel rock back the way it came as he then stepped out of the wheel.

Guiding the wheel back to the braces, he slides the wheel in so it stood stationary once more. Illuminated in an intense solid bright golden light, Kon stood directly behind the wheel facing the audience. Slowly he raises his darkened hand hoovering it just over the top of the wheel. He then slowly ran his hand all the way down and around the wheel. In the dark hand’s wake, the LEDs turn off following in a trail behind where his hand tracks. Like he was turning the wheel off or wiping the light away. The moment he reached the top again the stage fell into total darkness and his performance met its finale.

@succulent-tart​

[esmealux]

I'll bite. 13 and 35 look like they might be fun together. 😈

Thank you so much for this fun prompt, Shelly ❤ The opportunities seemed endless, but in the end I went with this. I hope you like it.

Once again, I screwed up at brevity, so this is 1.9K (:

13. Someone does something stupid + 35. 'You wanna bet?' 'Care to wager?'

Never make a bet with the Devil.

A deal, if you must. But do not bet against him.

Not because he’ll take your soul or anything; he won’t even necessarily take your money.

But because he can’t handle it. He can’t. He’ll stop at nothing to win, and when he doesn’t—when he can’t shoot down a bottle of vodka with a slingshot from 400 feet away, or blow a soap bubble with his nose, or fly to Sweden and back in under thirty minutes (the latter he did do, but a drug test showed he’d taken EPO)—he’ll walk around in a pathetic cloud of self-pity, sulking and pouting to an unbearable degree for days on end.

So if you care about the Devil, don’t bet with him. It’s for his own good.

It really is.

And yet-

Chloe picks up the dirty plates from the coffee table as gunshots fire around her. It makes her a little uneasy, how real it sounds through their newly installed surround sound system. One so expensive she doesn’t even want to know.

Their just as overpriced (and unnecessarily big) TV is bathing Lucifer in white-blue light as he stares at the screen intently. He did want to watch the movie with her, but she’s not much of a Weaponizer fan, and she’d like to clean up before she snuggles up next to him on the couch and inevitably falls asleep. As she’s gathered all the dishes in her arms, however, she can’t help but pause and glance at the film for just a second.

‘Yeah, like that could actually happen,’ she snorts, watching the car jump across a considerable gap in a bridge, flip mid-air, and land on all four wheels on the other side. ‘I mean, no one’s ever done that.’

As soon as the words leave her mouth Chloe knows she’s made a mistake.

Lucifer pauses the movie—because God forbid he misses five seconds of a film he’s watched thirty times—before he looks up at her with a lifted eyebrow and a devilish grin.

‘Is that a challenge, Detective?’

Chloe glares at him, her jaw clenching. ‘It’s not possible,’ she states firmly, which is even worse, because now he can only reply with-

‘Care to wager?’

Chloe wants to kick herself.

‘There’s no way in Hell you’re doing that,’ she tells him, nodding towards the paused screen before she heads for the kitchen to start the dishwasher.

‘Why? Because my worried girlfriend won’t let me?’ he calls after her. ‘I’m invulnerable, remember?’

Chloe refills her wine glass, generously, and returns to the living room.

‘No,’ she objects, careful not to spill Pinot Noir on the couch as she settles against Lucifer’s warm, silk-clad side. ‘I just know you’ll never forgive yourself when your beloved Corvette rams into a cliff.’

Lucifer gasps and scoffs. ‘As if I’d ever risk such a sweet beauty like that!’ He plucks the glass out of her hand and takes a sip. ‘And even if I did, she would not, because I would succeed, first try.’

‘First try? Really?’

Chloe grabs the remote and replays the last fifteen seconds. Looking at it a second time, it’s even more ridiculous. The background is so obviously a green screen it’s not even funny, the flip is clearly made using some sort of outdated CGI, and they haven’t even bothered making it look like there’s a real person in the car. Also—Chloe doesn’t remember much from school, but she’s pretty sure the entire stunt defies physics as the car leaps, practically flies over the 150 feet gap, all the while rotating 360 degrees sideways.

‘Maybe third,’ Lucifer admits.

Chloe shakes her head and sighs.

‘I can do it, Detective.’ He looks at her like it’s a threat. ‘And I will.’

Oh, he will definitely try. The determination in his eyes leave no doubt about that. But he can’t possibly copy that stunt with an actual car and an actual gap. There’s just no way. And she shouldn’t spur him on. She really shouldn’t. But the idiot’s gotta learn at some point, and if she’s gonna have to deal with his childish disappointment (and she will), she might as well get something out of it.

‘Fine,’ she shrugs. ‘What are we betting?’

He grins at her, brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

‘If—nay, when I win,’ he answers promptly, and Chloe rolls her eyes, ‘I’ll finally get that thing I’ve always wanted.’

Chloe stares at him, comepletely clueless. If his tone and stupid smirk are anything to go by, it’s not a pet shark he’s talking about.

‘One... re-enactment for another,’ he clarifies slowly, his dark gaze gliding over her body before his eyes flicker to the glass doors leading to their terrace—and their outdoor hot tub.

Chloe fights the urge to roll her eyes again.

‘Okay,’ she agrees, internally reminding herself it doesn’t really matter. She gives him a cocky smile. ‘And when I win?’

Lucifer chuckles as if he finds her adorably naïve. Asshat. Still, he says, ‘You’ll get anything you desire.’

Chloe thinks. There’s not much she desires he wouldn’t give her anyway. She could have him do paperwork for a month, but he’d just mess it up, and she’d have to listen to his complaints about ‘torturous boredom’ and ‘purgatory’. She could also go for something funnier, like have him wear t-shirt and sweats to work for a week. But that would just be cruel, wouldn’t it?

‘I don’t know,’ she tells him, but the words are barely out of her mouth before Trixie’s enthusiastic voice sounds behind them.

‘I might have an idea!’

Lucifer sighs and gives Chloe an unimpressed look before he shifts slightly in his seat to look at her daughter.

‘Alright, but only because your mum lacks creativity like a sober Faulkner.’

Trixie walks around the couch and comes to stand in front of them, a mischievous smile on her face.

‘Please don’t tell me it’s a unicorn on the cheek,’ Lucifer huffs, taking another gulp of Chloe’s wine.

‘It’s not,’ she assures him and holds out her iPad for him to see. It’s a doodle of a small, fluffy goat with pink fur. ‘I was thinking something more… permanent.’ With the hand that’s not holding her tablet, Trixie pats a spot on the left side of her upper chest.

Lucifer slowly removes the wine glass from his lips, and the sheer horror on his face makes Chloe snort with laughter.

He stares at the small, inarguably adorable drawing like it’s a personal insult, glances down at his chest with dread, and looks back to Trixie.

‘You little Devil,’ Lucifer grumbles, but there’s no trace of hostility in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little impressed. He grabs Trixie’s iPad from her outstretched hand and studies the pink kawaii buck for a second, as if he’s seriously considering saying yes to the deal.

Eventually, he sighs. ‘I’m in.’

‘Lucifer-’ Chloe immediately begins to protest. He’s not gonna win this bet, and she knows how downright intolerable he’ll be when he’ll have to get a cute, chubby animal—one that, to him, represents mockery and misconception—tattooed onto his skin. She's tired already, just thinking about all the whining she'd have to deal with.

But it’s too late. Her boyfriend and daughter shake hands, and the deal is settled.

Chloe palms her face.

‘Wait, what do you get if you actually manage to… whatever it is this time?’ Trixie asks, her small hand still clasped in Lucifer’s.

Chloe looks up at him, heat creeping up her cheeks. Their eyes meet shortly before he looks back to her daughter, visibly conflicted.

‘Eh…’

It’s not so much a word as it is a breathy, high-pitched sound, partly stuck in his throat. But it’s answer enough for Trixie.

‘Forget I asked,’ she quickly says, her face scrunched up in disgust. ‘I’ll be in my room.’

She takes her iPad back and leaves them alone on the couch.

‘So, I guess it’s tit or tat, then,’ Lucifer remarks with a chuckle, glancing down at Chloe’s chest.

She snorts and smiles, despite herself.

‘But, I mean-’ He grabs the remote and plays the scene a third time.

He must not see the same utterly absurd and almost comically impossible stunt she (still) sees, because he leans down and whispers in her ear, ‘Better start rehearsing your lines, Detective.’

Chloe shakes her head at him and snuggles closer to his body.

*

‘You’re lucky I like your mother,’ Lucifer mumbles as the needle pinches ink into his chest.

He’d driven off in a ‘cheap’ Porsche this morning and returned eight hours later, looking like he’d literally been fed to the wolves and with no Porsche.

‘Hey honey,’ she’d greeted him, hiding her smirk behind her cup of tea. ‘How’d it go?’

He’d answered with a grunt, blamed the Germans for making their cars too ‘praktisch’ and the Italians for not making theirs fast enough (he’d controlled for variables) and finally concluded it was all his dad’s fault because He ‘created that pesky gravity’.

Then he’d handed her an ornate, black business card and looked at her as if he’d picked his own casket.

Chloe had bit her cheek and hugged him before driving all three of them to the high-end tattoo parlour he’d requested.

‘You okay there?’ she asks him, letting him grip her hand tighter. The fact that he isn’t feeling any actual pain—‘any physical pain, Detective!’—makes his wincing all the more pathetic. Still, she feels a little bad for him.

‘No.’ He bends his neck to peer down at his chest, and pouts. ‘I’m not.’

Trixie grins beside him. ‘I think it looks cool!’

‘Of course, you do. You’re a twelve-year-old girl.’

The smile on Trix’ face turns into a smirk. ‘A twelve-year-old who girl you lost a bet to.’

Sighing deeply, Lucifer turns his head to scowl at her like she’s his annoying little sister and not the stepdaughter he’d go to the ends of the universe for.

‘It’ll be gone in a few months,’ Chloe reminds him, earning her a funny look from the tattoo artist.

The muscle in Lucifer’s jaw ticks. ‘It’s not even finished yet and I already hate it more than I ever did my bloody wings! How am I supposed to endure this… horned cotton candy for months?’

Chloe takes a deep breath. She brought this on herself. She knew she shouldn’t have made that bet with him. She knew he’d be an insufferable drama queen.

She also knows, after hours of hearing him moan, that he’s not gonna shut up about ‘deceitful special effects’ and ‘useless laws of physics’, much less the ‘vile, little creature marring his muscled chest’. Not unless she does something.

So Chloe does something.

For the second time in her life, she gets naked in—and out of a hot tub.

‘No moaning, then,’ she tells him, giving him a stern look.

Lucifer looks her up and down in awe and hunger, dark eyes lingering on the tiny red bikini he knows she’ll take off in a matter of seconds. ‘Now, there’s a promise I can’t keep.’

‘About the wager,’ she clarifies, but he’s not listening.

With a sigh, Chloe sinks into the hot, bubbling water, loosens her bikini top, and gets into character.

She is never, ever betting with the Devil again.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Fireworks Event - Gavin

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Contains references to Flower Season Date and 2 Become 1 Date (available in EN)!

Previous section: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here 

Prior to the Carnival, there were questions posed in the Go See You feature which affects which scenario the player sees during the Fireworks Event:

Question: [I don’t have the exact question, but it has to do with the amusement park]

Option A: I want to ride the merry-go-round again.

Option B: I really liked the boat ride we took the last time.

Option C: The Ferris wheel of course~

-

Question: Could you tell me what a “perfect day” is like to you?

Option A: A romantic day just like in a television drama.

Option B: Mm... I want to hear you sing.

-

[ Option A: I want to ride the merry-go-round again. ]

MC: I'm satisfied--

After disembarking from the small airplanes, I stretch happily. 

MC: Thank you for accompanying me to the amusement park today!

Gavin smoothens the stray hair near by ear. Taking my hand, we walk towards the merry-go-round together.

Gavin: You seem to like it very much.

MC: Mm! But how did you know that I wanted to leave the merry-go-round till the end?

Gavin simply smiles. Sidestepping my query, he answers with another question.

Gavin: Do you remember the first time we took the merry-go-round?

MC: Mm. Of course I remember. 

It’s a memory that will always make me smile no matter when I recollect it. 

The dream-like merry-go-round, and the sparkling crystal shoes.

In contrast to daytime, the merry-go-round at night is even more well regarded by visitors. As it rotates under the speckled light of the starry sky, it seems to be a scene straight out of a fairytale. 

The two of us sit on a large “steed” each, waiting for the melody to start.

MC: I've been wanting to take the merry-go-round with you again. It’s a shame we couldn’t get the white horse in time today!

I narrow my eyes, looking at that the white wooden horse which slipped me by.

Gavin: Riding a different coloured horse means I can’t be your Prince Charming?

He’s riding on a brown horse at the most outer ring, his head turned towards me. Asking such a question, as though he’s seen through my thoughts, leaves my cheeks feeling a little flushed.

MC: ...of course not.

The bell sounds, signalling that the ride is about to begin. I pat my horse, and reach out to Gavin.

MC: No matter what you ride, you’ll always be my prince.

Dazzling light reflects from behind Gavin. Seeing my outstretched hand, he smiles. After turning his head to scan his surroundings, he takes my hand.

MC: In that case, His Highness, we can prepare to set out.

While saying this, I realise that there seems to be a few light air currents beneath my feet, mischievously preparing to lift me up.

I’m stunned for a moment, then turn my head to look at Gavin, who is holding my hand.

He seems to smile at me a little playfully. Like a wilful wind, he pulls me at the last second of the countdown, letting me sit in front of him.

MC: !!

Gavin: May I know if Her Highness would like to set out together with me? 

Like an irresistible invitation, the wooden horses start moving.

MC: Mr Gavin, isn’t it a little redundant to ask this question now?

Gavin: Are you unwilling?

MC: Why would I be unwilling! But, we’ve definitely been seen...

The thought of people behind witnessing the earlier scene causes me to hide in Gavin’s arms in embarrassment. 

Gavin: So what?

He tightens his arms steadily, an affectionate and gentle kiss landing at the corner of my eye.

Gavin: All you have to do is look at me.

The rotating wooden horses move, and the mellifluous music seems never-ending.

At the side are the laughter of visitors. And by my side is the warmth of the most important person.

--

[ Option B: I really liked the boat ride we took the last time. ]

MC: I'm satisfied--

After disembarking from the small airplanes, I stretch happily.

MC: Thank you for accompanying me to the amusement park today!

Gavin smoothens the stray hair near by ear. Taking my hand, we board the wandering cruise together.

Gavin: You seem to like it very much.

MC: Mm! But how did you know that I wanted to leave wandering around till the end?

Gavin simply smiles. Sidestepping my query, he answers with another question.

Gavin: Do you remember the first time we took the boat ride?

MC: Mm. Of course I remember.

It’s a memory that will always make me smile no matter when I recollect it.

We once again sit on the drifting boat, slowly coursing through the entire amusement park. The fairytale-like amusement park has a different scenery and style at night. 

We are the only two people on the boat. The staff operating the boat yawns. I lean sideways on the boat, watching as speckles of light trace Gavin’s features. 

Gavin: What is it? Do you find it boring?

MC: It’s fine! I just realised that as compared to the scenery, you’re nicer to look at.

He leans over with a smile, lying sideways like me.

At this moment, it suddenly gives me the illusion that we’re tablemates. 

We’re secretly lowering our heads together during class, our shared glances linked with undisclosed secrets. 

Gavin: If watching the scenery is too boring, let’s escape.

MC: Where can we escape to? 

He takes my hand gently, speckles of light shifting in his eyes, like the third moonlight aside from the ones in the sky and on the water surface.

Gavin: Do you trust me?

MC: Of course.

The lack of hesitation in my response seems to make that moonlight even more magnificent. He leads me slowly to the tail of the boat.

When the staff yawns for the sixth time, a warm yet powerful wind encases us. In an instant, we leap off the boat.

MC: !

The sense of weightlessness only lasts for an instant, before it is replaced by his familiar yet scorching embrace.

Gavin: Don’t worry, just treat it as standing on ground.

He holds onto me, letting me stand and slowly steady myself on the flat surface created by the wind currents.

MC: What we’re doing right now is similar to “floating on water” in Wuxia novels!

Gavin: Take a walk and give it a try.

Nervous, I grip Gavin’s hand tightly while shifting slowly on the wind currents. Underneath my feet, the movement of the wind creates ripples.

I excitedly take more comfortable steps on the surface of the water, and even take his hand and twirl around.

Gavin: Are you happy now?

MC: Very happy! This is miraculous!

The corners of his lips lift upwards, bringing with them a rare sense of pride as we enjoy this unique sightseeing tour.

We walk along the surface of the water, the light and shadows of the park becoming halos beneath out feet, the shrill cries of visitors drifting from the side. And I... am in his eyes.

Wandering in this tranquil moment, I suddenly think of a question.

MC: You’re often out on missions, so you should rarely feel exhilarated by amusement park attractions, right? As in, the feeling of having your heart beating rapidly, or your breathing speeding up. In that case, you’re definitely missing out on the fun of those activities that make one’s heart race.

Gavin smiles as he shakes his head. 

Gavin: Having you around is enough.

--

[ Option C: The Ferris wheel of course~ ]

MC: I'm satisfied--

After disembarking from the small airplanes, I stretch happily.

MC: Thank you for accompanying me to the amusement park today!

Gavin smoothens the stray hair near by ear. Taking my hand, we walk towards the Ferris wheel together.

Gavin: You seem to like it very much.

MC: Mm! But how did you know that I wanted to leave the Ferris wheel till the end?

Gavin simply smiles. Sidestepping my query, he answers with another question.

Gavin: Do you remember the first time we took the Ferris wheel?

MC: Mm. Of course I remember.

It’s a memory that will always make me smile no matter when I recollect it.

MC: We seem to have a special affinity with Ferris wheels. Just thinking about Ferris wheels channels so many memories.

Gavin: in that case, are there any new memories today?

MC: To a certain degree, you could say that. After all, this is the first time we’re seriously and uneventfully taking the Ferris wheel together.

Hearing this, Gavin smiles. He scratches his head in resignation, as though thinking of various memories.

After the Ferris wheel finishes its round, he pulls me into the capsule of the Ferris wheel.

Gavin: I don’t wish to simply give you uneventful memories. 

He sits beside me. While we ascend slowly, he ponders seriously on how to pull some tricks.

Seeing him in such a state, I can’t help but laugh.

Gavin: Hm? 

Gavin: Your expression just now... it was a little adorable?

He doesn’t seem to understand why he obtained such an assessment. His handsome brows once again arch “adorably”.

MC: Gavin, do you know about the most classic legend related to Ferris wheels?

Gavin: About the zenith of the Ferris wheel?

MC: You actually know about it?

Gavin: I might not know many legends that people like, but I’m not completely ignorant.

Moonlight gradually melds with romantic speckles of light, falling into his amber eyes, making them even more captivating than the colours of the night.

MC: Actually, what’s “special” is very simple. As long as one legend happens to you, it’s enough.

Gavin: It’s that simple?

I nod vigorously.

We climb to the zenith of the Ferris wheel. The moonlight is tender. He leans over gently and I see myself in the pools of amber. I’m unwilling to flee.

His fingertips course through my hair, and his breath fills my lungs.

MC: This is definitely my most special memory.

Gavin: It isn’t enough.

I’m left stunned. Seeing that Gavin has stubbornly repeated this phrase, I fail to recognise the meaning behind it.

That is, until a gust of wind blows by. The descending capsule seems to move in the opposite direction, returning once again to the zenith.

Gavin: It’s not enough for it to happen once.

MC: Gav...

I’m unable to say another word. The night flows by quietly, and we are once again dyed in each other’s hues. 

He’s still that same youth, intruding into my world like a gust of wind.

[ PART TWO PROLOGUE ]

When we once again return to the plaza, a line of white doves flap their wings, the glow of moonlight dyeing their wings silver.

I can’t help but stare at this romantic scenery, feeling happy that I participated in the carnival.

Gavin: Oh yes, MC. Hold on.

[ Option A: A romantic day just like in a television drama. ]

Gavin takes two steps forward. When he stands before me, his expression is a little tense, yet exceptionally serious as he looks at me. Then, he lifts his hand and tousles my hair. 

MC: Mm? 

Gavin: Hm?

As the both of us look at each other in confusion, Gavin exerts slightly more strength as he tousles my hair, once again earning a befuddled gaze from me.

Gavin: Cough... nothing. Let’s go.

Gavin rubs his neck, and he seems a little awkward.

Gavin: There are more people at the Central Castle. Let’s go to the park at the side. The view from there is still passable, and there are fewer people. 

With this, he pulls on my hand and leads me toward the park. His contemplative expression makes me increasingly curious regarding what he’s thinking about.

MC: You always seem to find all sorts of good places.

I say this while smiling at Gavin, leaning against the railing at the lakeside.

He suddenly supports himself on the railing with one hand, encircling me between him and the railing, not giving me a response.

Just like this, we look at each other helplessly. When I begin wondering if Gavin is planning to compete on who would blink first, he gives up.

Gavin: Give me a moment. 

MC: Wait...

Before I can question him further, Gavin has already left.

He doesn’t let me wait for too long. But when he returns, one hand is hugging a bouquet of balloon flowers, and the other is hugging a doll.

This somewhat familiar image, along with Gavin’s earlier actions, finally make me realise what’s going on.

Back then, he had asked me question out of nowhere - the one related to “a perfect day”. And my response was--

A romantic day just like in a television drama.

I can’t help but laugh aloud. Judging by his actions, he probably did some serious revision of television dramas recently.

Gavin: These are for you.

MC: Didn’t you already give these to me many times before?

Gavin: ...give me another moment.

Seeing that he probably has a backup plan, I quickly grab onto him.

MC: Although I did say that I wished to have a romantic scene take place just like in a television drama, and that those scenes do make my heart stir...

MC: To me, you alone can sufficiently make my heart stir. You being here is already the most romantic thing.

Startled, Gavin remains in place. Then, he takes my hand.

Gavin: But I don’t wish to give you what’s “most romantic”, but what’s “more romantic”.

Visitor: Sorry--!

All of a sudden, somebody exclaims in a loud voice.

Before I can react, a strength sends me backwards, and the balloons are knocked out of my hand.

Almost at the same time, there’s a tightening at my waist. Gavin holds me securely in place with one arm. The balloon is brought back to me with a gust of wind, landing steadily in his hand. 

Gavin: Are you okay?

A familiar scent floods my surroundings. The pair of amber eyes are within reach.

Bang--

The night sky is illuminated by fireworks, and endless flowers bloom in the quiet night.

Gavin: Looks like there are quite a lot of people here too. Let’s go to another location.

Gavin takes me to a place without people. Encircling my waist, he takes me flying into the air. 

Gavin: Happy third anniversary.

Looking at this person who has no idea that every action he does is even more romantic than a television drama, I chuckle lightly.

[ FIREWORKS ]

--

[ Option B: Mm... I want to hear you sing. ]

MC: What is it?

Gavin: Come with me. 

Gavin takes my hand, and I don’t know where he’s bringing me to.

There’s a fireworks display at night in the park. At this time, the visitors have drifted towards the Central Castle, searching for a good location.

Only the two of us are different from the crowd, and we leave the clamour of the park behind us.

We stop at a small park. There aren’t any other people here. All that’s left are warm streetlights, quietly standing at the side of the small path. 

After settling me on a bench, Gavin walks towards a cafe at the side, and says something to the store owner. 

When he returns, there’s a guitar in his hand.

MC: This is...?

Gavin: Cough... I might not sing very well.

Gavin sits down beside me, and tries tuning it.

The light and shadows render his carved outline even more delicate and firm.

As I watch his fingers sweep across the strings, I suddenly think of the question he asked out of nowhere - the one related to “a perfect day”. Back then, my response was--

To hear you sing.

MC: So right now...

Gavin: Since I promised, I’ll give it a try.

The first note trickles from the strings, and the streetlights shroud the moonlight, encasing our surroundings.

Gavin: [singing] Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars...

Gavin looks at the strings while singing in a soft voice. The tips of his ears and his cheeks are slightly red.

It turns out that he remembered the words I said on a whim.

Or rather, everything that I’ve said, and every wish I’ve made - he remembers them all, and even turns them into a reality.

The faraway lights of the carnival dance on the lake, overflowing with speckles of dancing colours, akin to a man-made starry sky. 

Gavin deepens his voice a little, bringing with it some huskiness. 

As compared to singing a song, he’s using this romantic yet straightforward song to convey, bit by bit, the words overflowing from his heart. 

Gavin: [singing] ...in other words, please be true.

The music suddenly stops. 

The abrupt silence causes me to lift my head to look at him. Akin to walking right into a trap, I fall into a pool of amber.

Gavin: [singing] In other words...

Gavin looks at me seriously, the corners of his lips curling upwards slightly as he recites the final lyrics.

Bang--

The night sky is illuminated by fireworks, and endless flowers bloom in the quiet night.

I should rejoice that the fireworks have ascended into the sky, covering my burning face. And I should also rejoice that the fireworks are blooming, covering my rapidly beating heart.

But at this moment, I don’t feel like averting my gaze. I want to look at Gavin who is before me. The only person who carries all the stirring in my heart.

In the end, an embrace which brings with it the scent of summer encases me on this winter night.

Through our connected body temperatures, his heart rate, which is slightly quicker than normal, echoes at my ear. 

Gavin: Happy third anniversary.

[ FIREWORKS ]

[ PART TWO ENDING ]

After the fireworks dissipate, what embellishes the night is a sky full of stars. 

We quietly enjoy the night sky together, until the lights in the park are turned off in succession.

Gavin: Let’s go home?

Gavin speaks, his tone light-hearted yet steady. Just like every day we spend together. 

MC: Mm. Want to have supper?

Gavin: If you’re the one making it, I’ll eat.

MC: In that case, you’ll wash the dishes.

Gavin: Sure.

We chat about the most ordinary things, walking towards the entrance of the park.

I skip and hop, following behind Gavin. The streetlights elongate our shadows, occasionally weaving them together.

Looking at the shadows which are side by side, I can’t help but lift my hand up, grabbing at the air. 

After a few tries, I finally have a grasp of the distance. This way, my shadow is holding onto the shadow of Gavin’s hand as we walk forward.

Gavin: Having fun?

Gavin grabs my hand in mid-air, holding it in his.

MC: Not bad~ It’s a shame that I got found out. 

Gavin: It’s just a shadow. 

MC: This is something you don’t understand - this is called a female’s sentiments.

An inexplicable wave of satisfaction fills me. I grab onto Gavin’s hand, swinging it gently.

Gavin chuckles softly, then pulls me back, turning me around.

A kiss falls on my lips. It only withdraws after leaving a slight warmth.

Gavin: I’ve paid the school fees. Could I have remedial classes in the days ahead?

After recovering from a moment of being startled, I stand on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

MC: I’m a famous teacher, so I’ll need a little more. I just don’t know if Commander Gavin would be willing.

Gavin chuckles aloud, lifting me up and carrying me. Seeing that my cheeks are scarlet and that my breaths are hurried, he takes it as a natural thing.

Gavin: What’s there to be unwilling about? Any amount works.

-

Audio clip of Gavin singing: here

[n0wornever]

Christmas Tree Farm - Julie Molina x Reader

Festive tings with my favorite girl. (was totally inspired by @calamitykaty‘s most recent Christmas piece for this one! 

“Julie, you’re going to want to bundle up more than that!” Y/N said as she wrapped her plush white scarf around her neck again. 

She looked over at her girlfriend, standing in the doorway with her lightweight jacket laying open over her dark green turtleneck. Julie fidgeted with the coat sleeves as she scrunched her face in confusion. Y/N simply rolled her eyes at the girl, leaning back and opening the wicker picnic basket beneath their shoe rack. 

Julie watched carefully as the girl dug through the colorful fabrics. Finally, she pulled out a set of white gloves and a matching hat, holding them up in the air. Her girlfriend hesitated before stepping forward and grabbing them from her hands. As Y/N rose to meet her gaze, she frowned. Julie was still holding the garments in her hand.

“Baby, you’re in the midwest in the middle of December,” She said, scooping up a green scarf from the coat hanger to her right.

She stepped toward the girl, circling the soft material around Julie’s neck a few times before letting her hands rest on her shoulders. Her girlfriend’s cheeks began to blossom, and Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the quick reaction she received. She let her hands slide down to the scarf again, pulling the curly-haired girl closer to her. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Julie’s with a smile. As they pulled back, she was sure the temperature had risen for her too.

As she stepped back, Julie held up the gloves to her girlfriend’s face, waving them back and forth. 

“Babe, do you really think I’ll need all of this?” She whined, lip pouting on command. 

Y/N shook her head as she laughed at her persistence. When she checked the weather this morning, she noted the high of 32 and the possibility of snow on the horizon in the evening. It was due almost to the exact minute that they were supposed to arrive at the Christmas Palace. She simply nodded, mimicking her full lips back to her as she placed her own onto her hands.

“Yes, you are going to thank me for it in like an hour,” Y/N checked her watch to make sure they were still on schedule to meet her grandfather. 

Her pop’s Christmas tree farm was right outside of the city limits. The place had been in her family’s life for decades and although she’d been there hundreds of times, their visits never bored Y/N. That was because there was a secret after event that he put on just for those closest to him.

If you squinted in between the trees and around the log cabin in the daylight, you’d see rows and rows of string lights. There were also several animated characters in wrapped around wires that sat in different areas of the snow going almost entirely unnoticed. However, every night after he had closed to the general public for the evening, these items would come alive in a light show that he held for friends and family who came to visit.

Y/N remembered the first time he’d let her help flip the switch. She had to have been no older than 6, and had to be hoisted up into his arms to reach the cover plate, pushing it forward. He always told her that he’d never forget what happened next. She had gazed upon the yards and yards of perfectly powdered trees and her eyes widened in excitement. Grandpa always said he kept that smile in the locket he wore around his neck.

Y/N played with the gold chain resting at the nape of her neck for a moment as Julie finished getting ready. Her eyes were fixed on the stairs, tearing at her lower lip as she drifted back to the flashes of green and red lining Forester Road. She sweet smell of pine leaves lining her jacket for afternoons after her visit. The warm cocoa she practically spilled all over herself in the car as her mom drove down that rugged gravel road. 

She was only pulled back by a grip on her waist. She turned to the right and found her smiling girl staring straight at her with a toothy grin.

“Are you ready baby?” Julie asked, gripping at the girl’s red peacoat. 

Y/N nodded, bringing her lips back down to meet hers. As they pulled away, Julie’s thumb rose to brush against her lips, her wide grin still splashed across her cheeks.

“I left a little red on your lips,” She muttered as she brushed against the skin. 

After she’d erased the stain of her lips, Julie pulled back with her hand outstretched. Y/N clasped onto it as she followed her out the door. As they reached her mother’s car, Y/N released her hand from Julie’s, sending it up to Julie’s hat as she pulled it below the girl’s ears. She could hear her girlfriend’s giggles as she tugged it left to right until it pleased her. 

Finally satisfied, Y/N ran over to the drivers side. Her hand met a pile of snow pooling at the handle. She dusted the majority off with her hand before she pulled it toward her and crawled inside. She put the key in the ignition, alerting the Christmas station she’d preselected the night before. As she turned to back up, her eyes fell on Julie. The small girl held her hands up against the heater, eyes narrowed at her pink fingertips. 

“I told you,” Y/N said with a giggle.

Julie met her eyes with a frown before turning back to her hands. Y/N placed her hand behind the girl’s seat and pulled out of the driveway. As sleigh bells rang softly in the background, Y/N hummed along to the carol. She could feel Julie’s eyes on her, and she knew she should be talking. However Y/N was doing her best to ignore her sweating palms underneath her steering wheel. 

She had no idea why she was so nervous for Julie to meet pops. He literally loved everyone he ever met. he was the first person to ask her when he’d meet a significant other after she came out, asking her to bring her out to the farm as soon as she could. However, now that her beautiful girlfriend sat next to her, ready to fulfill that promise, she wasn’t so sure. Her grip on the steering wheel sent a throbbing sensation to her palms, it brought her attention to something. 

“So,” Julie said, finally breaking the silence. 

Her hand moved to the radio volume dial, turning Oh Holy Night down to an inaudible level. Y/N straightened her neck, letting it fall side to side as she waited for her to continue.

“What should I expect? You’ve barely told me anything about this place.”

Julie was right, she hadn’t said anything about her Pop’s farm because that was the best way for her to experience it. She wanted her to have that authentic first reaction that she and many others have over the years. More importantly, Y/N wanted to capture the way her eyes lit up as she asked her grandpa to let the girl flip the switch. 

“Jules, honey, I told you that I can’t spoil it.” 

She her her groan, rotating the dial back up and letting the choral voices take over the conversation. She tried not to laugh as her eyes darted toward the girl’s for a second, taking in her snarl as she looked at the snowy trees surrounding them. 

Y/N’s eyes fell on the small green sign at the end of the road. It had a small, very worn, picture of Santa on it with the words “Kindling Tree Farm” etched across it in red cursive writing. Y/n flipped on her turn signal at the light, turning onto the gravel road. A smirk rose onto her face again as she watched Julie clutch onto the car handle as she car shifted back and forth. 

They finally came to a smoother pasture as they entered the park. She looked out the window and saw her a familiar smile on the front porch of the cabin. Her grandfather waved at her and she returned the greeting, then pulling into a parking space. As she shifted into park and unbuckled her seatbelt, she turned to her girlfriend one more time. 

“He’s a little stoic, but I promise he means well.” Y/N warned her.

Julie bit down on her bottom lip. Y/N noted the quickness of her chest as it rose and fell and reached out for her hand. Julie met her eyes again, a soft smile laid on her right cheek.

“He’s going to love you, I. swear.” 

Julie nodded at the girl, squeezing onto her hand before letting go. The two girls hopped out of the car, and Julie walked through the light snow over to Y/N’s side. The girl’s hand tingled as she let herself grip her girlfriend’s hand, pulling her toward the wooden porch. Y/N locked eyes with her grandfather, the older man’s hand on his locket, fidgeting with it as he watched them walk toward him.

As they reached the landing, Y/N took a deep breath. She plastered a smile across her face as she let go of Julie’s hand and reached to wrap her arms around the tall man in front of her. His beard hit her in the face, causing her to giggle into the embrace. As they pulled back, Julie intertwined their hands again quickly.

“Pops, this is Julie,” Y/N said, shaking their entangled hands a bit to catch Julie’s attention. 

The man was quiet for a moment, studying Julie with narrow eyes. After a breath of quiet, Julie reached forward first with her hand outstretched. Y/N couldn’t help but melt as she listened to the shakiness in her girlfriend’s voice.

“So nice to finally meet you sir,” She said with as much confidence as she could muster. 

Y/N’s eyes fell to her grandfather, who inched toward the girl slowly. His stern expression melted into a soft smile as her shook her hand. Y/N finally let out the breath that waited for her as the exchange ended. Her grandfather pointed back toward the door, meeting his granddaughter’s eyes.

“Are you all thirsty? I just made some cocoa.”

The girl nodded, not even checking with her partner to her right. The two followed him into cabin. Warmth hit them from the moment they entered the candlelit home, the smell of milk chocolate hanging in the air of the kitchen. Y/N led Julie to the table in front of them, letting go of her to pull out her chair. Once the two were sitting, Y/N finally met her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asked as she took off her gloves, placing them next to her on the corner of the table. 

“Yeah,” Julie said with a small smile.

Y/N reached over to clasp both of her hands around Julie’s. The two looked at each other for a moment, only interrupted by the whistle of the kettle on the stove. Their eyes migrated toward the sound, finding her grandfather the the burner, pouring the steaming liquid into horribly themed mugs. Y/N’s smile grew as she watched him put one, two, three marshmallows on top of the drink...like he always did.

The man turned to her with two finished products in his hands. Y/N reached forward and grabbed them both from him, nodding before she turned back to the table. She looked back and forth from the Grinch shaped glass to the Santa shaped glass, debating between the two. She heard Julie chuckle and met her eyes for a moment. 

“For that, you get the Grinch cup,” She said, sticking out her tongue at the girl.

Julie rolled her eyes, gripping the mug with both hands. Y/N watched as the girl closed her eyes, taking a whiff of the silky chocolate smell before letting them flutter open. Y/N did the same before letting her lips touch the warm surface, tipping the drink back to her throat. It tasted slightly like peppermint and her eyes fell back behind her.

“Did you sneak the candy canes in here again?” She asked the man as he finished creating his own drink. 

He looked over his shoulder at her, pressing one finger to his lips to quiet her questioning. She shook her head before leaning back over the table. She rolled her eyes at Julie.

“He totally did.” 

The man finally joined them at the table and the three sipped on their cups quietly. Y/N’s gaze wandered back to Julie’s to find her eyes fixated on her grandfather’s neck. He noticed the curly-haired girl staring as well and cupped the locket in his hand. 

“Did Y/N tell you about this?” 

Julie shook her head as she brought her cup back to her lips. Y/N watched as her grandfather’s smile widened as he slipped it off his neck. He let the gold-plated item sit on the table, unclasping the lock. As it opened, he pushed it toward Julie. 

Y/N watched as her girlfriend reached out, only touching the outside with her fingertips lightly as she brought it closer to her. She leaned over to look at the contents too. In front of both of them sat a photo of a beaming young girl pointing in front of her and an older man smiling as he held her in his arms. Julie looked back up to him as she pointed at it.

“Is this Y/N?” 

He nodded, taking a quick sip before responding. 

“Yes, it is,” He said, tipping his glass toward Julie. “That was the biggest smile I’ve ever seen from this one. I knew the moment I saw her eyes meet the lights, that I had to have that picture of her in another place outside of my mind. Luckily, her mom thought so too and snapped the photo just in time.” 

Julie smiled softly as she brushed the yellowing photo with her fingertip. That smile was replaced by furrowed brows as she looked up and tilted her head as she held the man’s gaze. Y/N watched the interaction in anticipation, eyes darting from one of them to the other. 

“Lights?”

Her grandfather’s gaze fell to hers with raised eyebrows. Y/N tried to hid her rosy cheeks as she shrugged at him.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

His shoulders shook in a short giggle before he turned to the window. The sun had finally fully set, and the night sky had taken over the park. He turned back to Y/N with a grin, nodding toward the door with his head.

“Want to show her now? I think it’s dark enough.” 

Y/N looked over to her girlfriend who sat waiting with parted lips and an eyebrow cocked up at her. She turned back to the man at the head of the table and nodded, setting down her glass. 

“Come on baby,” She whispered, taking the girl’s hand as they both stood to their feet. 

Julie trailed behind Y/N as her grandfather led them back to the porch. Y/N swung Julie around to the other side of her,  placing the girl between her and her grandfather. Her girlfriend gave her a questioning look, but she averted the pressing gaze as she moved right over to her grandfather’s. Y/N nodded toward Julie and he shot her a wink. He cleared his throat before addressing her. 

“Julie, there’s a switch behind you. Could you flip it on for me?” 

The girl nodded slowly, turning around. Her hand fell against the switch, lifting it up with her ring finger. 

Y/N felt a smile already spreading across her face as Julie glanced at the lights from the corner of her eye. As the girl fully turned around, her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. Strings and strings of festive lights hung throughout the rows of trees. A small toy train made its way around the front of the porch, Julie’s eyes following its movements as it sang to the snow around it. Y/N watched as her eyes wandered to the sea of waving elves and smiling Santa figurines that were spread around the freshly fallen snow. 

Y/N squeezed lightly onto her hand as she watched Julie’ eyes crinkle with her widening smile. She used her free hand to grab her phone out of her pocket, flipping on the camera. She held the screen up to Julie’s side profile, angling it a bit to get a few of the lights in frame too. She snapped a few photos before the girl caught on and smiled directly at her. 

As she slid her device back into her jeans, she looked over at her grandfather. He made his way over to her other side, walking across the porch. Both of their eyes fell to the girl holding Y/N’s hand, who watched the scene in front of her with glossy eyes and rosy cheeks. As Y/N felt a smile pull at her cheeks once again, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. 

“Do you have a locket ready?” 

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @marinettepotterandplagg @lukeys-giggle  @xplrreylo @kiss-themoongoodbye @bathtimejish  @bookfrog247  @dasexydevitt13 @musicconversedance @txrii @bestdressedandstressed @daisiesforlacey @epikskool  @themaddies-obx @jukeobsessedgirl  @writerinlearning @dani27297 @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall @sovereignparker​ @kinda-really-lost​ 

[goodomensblog]

Afterward - Part 17

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16

(#2 definitely won - but #4 was a pretty close second, so we’re doing the classic punch and run!)

Afterward - - - Part 17

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

Entropy, rising up, tilts its head and smiles a wide, infinitely deep grin. Pale, ephemeral tendrils squirm where the creature’s head and neck are rapidly reconnecting.

Gabriel has picked up the sword and is twisting it up.

Beelzebub, however, beats him to the punch. Literally.

“Mine,” is all Beelzebub manages, a low, rasping shout. Pushing roughly in front of the archangel, Beelzebub winds a bloodied fist back and strikes.

Their knuckles smack between its eyes - and with a wet sounding squelch, the head which hadn’t yet fully re-attached, flies off Entropy’s shoulders.

This time, however, Entropy seems to retain consciousness, and the head screeches in outrage as it careens across the room.

“Shoo, bitch,” Beelzebub spits.

“My angels,” the head shrieks, rolling across the floor. “Your master commands you! Attack!”

From the top of the courtyard, where tiled roofs curve above stone carved archways, movement draws Beelzebub’s gaze up.

Angels line the tile rooftop, their formidable white wings spread wide. In the place where the angels’ eyes should be, dark, sunken pools hauntingly stare.

From behind Beelzebub, Gabriel makes a low noise of distress.

Beelzebub scans the faces. There are none they readily recognize - Michael and Uriel, at least, are absent. But surely most of the dark eyed angels are - or were - under Gabriel’s command.

“No…” the archangel breathes.

Forcibly ignoring the pain they feel radiating off Gabriel in cold, nauseating waves, Beelzebub shakes their head and, squeezing their hands into fists, cracks their knuckles one by one.

“What are they?” Aziraphale asks, horror lacing his words.

The first angel steps from the rooftop. Where it lands, stone splinters around its feet. From its eyes, black ichor drips, trailing like tears down its pure, celestial skin. It takes a second step, and the floor cracks anew.

“That,” Crowley says, speaking up from the back, “looks like an angel on steroids. Bloody evil steroids.”

Another angel drops. Then another. Gray dust from pulverized stone rises in an ominous cloud.

“I - I have to-” Gabriel is muttering, and Beelzebub can feel him moving behind them, probably making up his mind to do something stupid.

“Yeah,” Beelzebub says, surveying the hoard of freaky angels. “Fuck this noise.”

Turning right the hell around, Beelzebub grabs Gabriel roughly by the arm. 

When he doesn’t move - like the absolute asshole he is - Beelzebub grits their teeth and yanks, violently hauling the lead-limbed archangel with them. When they look up and see that Aziraphale and Crowley are still standing there, waiting, they yell, “Oi! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum! Fucking move!”

Crowley and Aziraphale retreat through the doorway, but go no further.

Beelzebub is panting, blood from a cut they didn’t even realize they had dripping into their eyes, and the room is tilting as a frankly annoying whine picks up in their ears - but this is no time to pass out, so Beelzebub doesn’t. 

At least Gabriel is finally moving; Beelzebub, all too happy to release him, shoves the archangel through the door. 

Upon crossing the threshold, Beelzebub is hastily elbowed out of the way by Crowley; Aziraphale, bracing a hand on the wall, traces glowing symbols on the floor.

“What’s-”

“That’s why we were waiting,” Crowley snaps.

Beelzebub reflects that if the room were spinning any less, they would have happily smacked that smug look off his face.

Instead, they crouch, bracing their hands on their knees.

Aziraphale straightens up with a satisfied nod. “That’ll do the trick.”

Then Crowley is swinging the door closed. Hand on the handle, he melts the lock. 

“If Aziraphale did what I think he did, we do not want to be here when they cross that threshold,” Crowley says.

“I did,” Aziraphale says with a grim smile.

Gabriel, who Beelzebub thinks is looking more like his usual insufferable self by the minute, claps his hands together. “Then let’s fucking go!”

“Right!” Crowley crows, pointing at Gabriel, “Your illicit sneaking out of Heaven door!”

Beelzebub and Aziraphale turn to look at Gabriel.

“Okay it’s really not as weird as he’s making it sound.”

 “It doesn’t matter-” Aziraphale says with a wave, but Beelzebub isn’t listening.

Blinking rapidly, they frown at the black dots blossoming across their vision. They immediately blink harder because they are not going to pass out; It is a fucking bad time for losing consciousness - and besides, they’d honestly rather die than look weak in front of these morons.

Crowley is turning, leading the way, and Beelzebub starts to step after him - when everything takes a sharp and sudden dip. 

And shit - Beelzebub thinks, consciousness slipping as a roaring white noise fills their ears. Blackness is spreading, sweeping across their vision.

They see outstretched, reaching hands - and then darkness swallows them whole.

Reality narrows to individual, isolated moments.

The press of fine, soft as silk fabric against their cheek.

A long hallway lit by a single flickering light.

Aziraphale, pale with purple bruises beneath his eyes, pulling a tapestry aside - pushing a doorway open.

Crowley’s hands cupped around that strange, blue flame.

Then white light - at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

Beelzebub stiffens, crying out in protest - because they know the saying about light and tunnels, and they straight up refuse to let that prick Death lay those frigid hands on them now.

This is followed by the soft, hesitant brush of fingers over their forehead and a whisper-soft murmur. “Don’t worry. It’s not that kind of tunnel.”

Again, darkness.

And then Crowley is exclaiming, shouting excitedly, and Beelzebub squints their eyes open to glaring sunlight - and a sleek black car, parked on what appears to be a random London street corner. 

When someone swings one of the rear doors open, Beelzebub has a sense of deja vu as they are laid down on black leather seats.

Voices drone, someone shifts beside them, and the car awakens with a reassuring purr; Beelzebub’s tired eyes close.

- - - 

Brushing his hands over the steering wheel, Crowley sits in the Bentley, taking a moment to enjoy the car’s energetic rumble. She doesn’t handle long periods of idleness very well. And though Crowley hasn’t been gone all that long, he imagines it must have been rather demoralizing to have been abandoned on a lonesome countryside road. He’ll have to make sure she’s still in working shape. 

“Just cause I gave you a little vacation,” Crowley says, tapping the dashboard admonishingly, “is no excuse for any slacking off, you understand?”

The car rumbles, and Crowley sighs, rolling his eyes. “See? I leave you for half a day and now I’m getting back talk.”

“Can we please just fucking go?” Gabriel snaps.

A glance in the rear-view mirror reveals the altogether unpleasant sight of Gabriel’s frowning face. 

The archangel is pressed up against the door, his large arms folded impractically in front of him. 

Beelzebub, in the few minutes after they’d been set down, had somehow completely rotated, and now they stretch out, arms flung out in either direction. Their booted feet are kicked up - one jabbing Gabriel’s side and the other shoved up against his face.

The archangel glowers.

From the passenger seat, Aziraphale clears his throat.

Crowley’s attention is immediately diverted.

Aziraphale is battered. Deep scratches scatter over the entirety of his person, and a bone deep exhaustion shows in his overall pallor and the bags like dark bruises gathering beneath his light eyes. 

Crowley has the impulse to stroke a thumb beneath that gentle gaze and burn a miracle to soothe some of the exhaustion marring his skin. 

He doesn’t.

Because he filled Aziraphale’s veins with demon blood, and Crowley isn’t entirely sure Aziraphale won’t come to resent him for it. 

The desperate transfusion had worked. Aziraphale is here. That is what matters. But the fact that the cost of this gamble - the cost of mixing that which was never meant to join - has yet to reveal itself, leaves Crowley deeply on edge. 

“Dear,” Aziraphale says, mercifully interrupting Crowley’s rapidly spiraling thoughts. “We fled the bookshop earlier because we believed we were dealing with a threat who knew us, personally. Entropy does not know us. And I presume that it does not know where I live.”

“...you want to go home, don’t you?”

“Yes I want to go home!” Aziraphale says in a rush, hands folded, his fingers twisting together. “It’s been a really long day.”

Crowley considers, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “I suppose we could ward the hell out of it.”

Aziraphale is eagerly nodding, “I already have a good few around the foundation as it is.”

“Is it defensible?” Gabriel asks.

“Better,” Aziraphale replies. “It’s hidden.”

“Though adding a few defenses wouldn’t hurt,” Crowley adds.

“As long as we get off the damned street,” Gabriel says with a weary sigh.

“That, we can do,” Crowley says, shifting the car into drive. 

“Wait!” Aziraphale says, grabbing Crowley’s arm. “First, we need food, Crowley.”

“....right this second?”

“As soon as possible. You do realize that we should avoid using powerful miracles at the moment, right?”

Crowley glances in the rear-view mirror, only somewhat mollified to see that Gabriel is also staring at Aziraphale with an expression of blatant confusion.

“Er - yes? I mean, we don’t want to go around putting beacons on our heads,” Crowley replies. “But what in the world does this have to do with food?”

Aziraphale is staring at him like he might be stupid - which he’s not. Right?

Crowley checks the rear-view mirror again.

Gabriel is squinting at Aziraphale. “Aziraphale. What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale looks between them, mouth agape.

From the backseat, Beelzebub groans. 

“Angel,” Beelzebub says, cracking an eye reluctantly open, “They’re both idiots. Don’t… strain their brains.”

Aziraphale glances back, relief evident. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Of course I know what you’re talking about!” Beelzebub replies, and the other eye opens to a menacing slit. “Food strengthens your bloody corporation. You. Are. Living. In. It. So fucking feed it. The stronger your corporation is - the stronger you are.”

Aziraphale is nodding vigorously. “And we are all very injured. Beelzebub especially. A good meal will help kick start our angelic - and demonic - healing.”

“Ah,” is all Crowley manages.

“Honestly, dear. You really didn’t know that?”

Crowley, who will frankly never admit that he played hookie during the body orientation seminar to check out the strange angel he’d seen walking up on Eden’s wall, adjusts his glasses and shrugs. “I’m a demon. What’s the archangel’s excuse?”

“Corporeal bodies are not my department.”

Beelzebub blows a raspberry.

“Since you’re awake, your highness - mind moving your foot out of my face?”

Beelzebub’s only reply is a long, deep snore.

Crowley shuts both of them up by jerking the car into motion.

Food it is!” Crowley says, foot sinking satisfyingly down on the gas pedal. “And I know just where to take us.”

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

The angels and demons have managed to escape Heaven and flee from Entropy. Before holing up at Aziraphale’s bookshop and deciding their next move - Aziraphale insists they get something to eat. Crowley decides the best place to get a couple of angels and demons lunch is….

The grocery store! Crowded around a single cart, they will shuffle round the aisles of the local grocery mart, exploring the strange wonders of fluorescent illuminated human cuisine. 

The Ritz! Sitting elbow to elbow around a pristine white tablecloth, they will be sipping at champagne and making awkward small talk. Probably nothing will catch fire.

The drive thru! Packed in the Bentley, Crowley will drive them all to the greasiest of fast food establishments. With all three speaking at once, Crowley will attempt to order.

Please comment or reblog to vote! :)

Part 18

[rangikuxmatsumoto]

--the riverbed

The forest around the riverbed was alive with the sounds of birds chirping, the hum of insects and the rush and fall of the river. In the summer heat, they would spend hours here; laying upon the bank with their toes dangling in the water, wading into the stream up to their knees; skipping rocks and if they were lucky managing to catch a fish or two.

The crystal-clear water steadily rushed around Rangiku’s ankles as her pale blue gaze leveled on her toes as they wiggled under the shallow water. Tiny hands delicately clutched the hem of her tattered and threadbare yukata keeping the fabric aloft from the water. Her gaze shifted to a waiting river stone a few feet away, the stone was perfectly smooth – yet slick – after decades of wear from the river.

“—Gin…” She called as she took a tentative step towards her check-point rock. Her steps were far more calculated, careful, almost like a dance. First her toes would outstretch in front of her, fishing for a steady and safe place to find her balance before she’d glide her back foot through the water behind her. A few of these long, graceful movements (with only a handful of wobbles) and she arrived at her new perch.

“Gin.”

Still there was no answer. Carefully, she rotated around to catch the sight of Gin perched higher up the stream in slightly deeper water. With his yukata tied up he was hunched over at his waist, his hands submerged under the water nearly up to his elbow. Rangiku’s soft blond head tilted, watching him stand perfectly still. It was then in that moment a few slivers of light cascaded through the forest’s canopy and the shimmering scales of a few small fish gleamed under the water as they swam around Gin’s knees and fingers.

Then there was sudden movement, Gin’s hands snapped closed as he wrenched himself back upright, a wiggling fish clutched tightly in his grasp. Wading through the water to the bank, Gin let the fish slip into a shabby old bucket filled with water before turning towards Rangiku.

“Dinner!” Gin gleeful cried, waving one hand above his head towards her. Pressing forth he moved through the water till it dropped from his knees to his ankles as he approached Rangiku on her rock.

“That fish looked pretty scrawny Gin…” She teased, only to receive instant karma when she nearly slipped. Gin’s arms quickly locking around her elbows, keeping her in place as he grinned like a madman.

“Wanna say that again?” He teased gently back before slowly releasing her when she regained her balance. “Ya okay Ran?”

A faint little blush appeared as she nodded at his question. While he had released her, she still maintained a small hold on his to keep her balance.

“Do ya wanna to try catching one?” Gin asked as he shrunk down slightly to force her out of her pouting expression.

“A fish?” Rangiku questioned, turning her attention towards the deeper water in which Gin had previously occupied.

“’course a fish,” Gin took her hand, “I’ll help ya.” Leading her off the rock and into the deeper water, only stopping to tie up her yukata’s hem before they returned to the spot Gin had successfully managed to snag a fish.

“Ya saw me, so do that…” Gin instructed, a hand gently coming to rest on the small her back as she bent over, hands plunging into the cool water. “Yea…now stay still, let the fish come to ya and when one gets between ya hands...snap it up.”

Rangiku turned her head, blowing her blonde locks out of her eyes before leveling her gaze upon Gin, “You’re making this sound almost easy…” She mused without any inflection in her tone.

Gin was good at this sort of stuff. He could shimmy up a tree without a stumble, he could sneak around, had quick fingers and even quicker legs, he could track and trap small game – Rangiku wasn’t, and she knew that, she was okay with it even because she had Gin and Gin always looked out for her.

“Ya just need to be patient…” Rangiku continued to give him a dead-eyed stare. Her – patient? That certainly wasn’t one of her virtues. Gin knew that too, but he simply smiled and stood still, expect to point to a fish that had swum up between her hands. Rangiku followed the direction of his finger, her gaze sharpening on the fish as is idled in the water.

“Give it a second….” Gin whispered, his gaze trapped on the fish before he hissed a quick, “Now!”

Rangiku’s hands quickly clapped closed, managing to snag the fish by the tail she snapped up just as Gin had, triumphant in her capture. A screak of delight came from her only for her cries of amusement and joy to turn into a screech as she lost her footing on a river stone. She fell backwards, Gin attempted a sudden rescue only to be brought down into the water by Rangiku’s flailing. A splash erupted around them and as the commotion cleared and the water settled, the fish she had managed to snag slipped away under the water.

For a moment, they sat in cold, wet silence before Gin’s laughter shattered the sour turn of events. Rangiku’s hand sprung from the water, flicking a small wave in his direction, splashing him square in the face – the cool stream’s water didn’t stop his laughter. Soon enough Rangiku couldn’t help but join in, laughing at the hilarious turn of events.

Gin was the first to pull his soaking wet form out of the water, extending a hand to hoist her up as well. His arm slipped around the small of her back, steading her. Their laughter slowly died on their lips as Gin dipped his head, his lips coming to press against Rangiku’s quickly. It was short, a gentle, soft peck of a kiss – but the first one Gin had ever given her. Rangiku’s eyes snapped open wide, a dark red blush forming on her cheeks and tinting the tip of her nose and ears as she simply watched him kiss her – failing to react in time to return the affection.

“…G-Gin…”

“Hm?” Gin continued to hover near her, lips a few mere inches away from where they had retreated from hers.

“…You…kissed me.”

“Yea, I did.”

He straightened slightly as she gazed up at him from under her lashes, his smile never faltered, if anything it seemed to soften somewhat. “Did ya not want me to?”

She responded with a rapid head shake as her forearms pressed against his chest where she had been firmly pinned, “No…I mean…I didn’t…not want you…” Her lips pressed into a firm pout as she stumbled over her words which earned her a small chuckle from Gin, all she could do is groan annoyedly at his response. His free hand grasping her chin to tilt her lips towards his once more.

“So ya don’t mind if I kiss ya again?”

“…I don’t mind…”

She half expected his lips to instantly lock with hers after she had given him permission for another kiss, but they failed to do so, instead he simply leaned in and whispered, “Then catch a fish again and I will.”

All it took was a small shove to send Gin back into the water but his hold on her remained firm, which caused her to be dragged down into the water on top of him. While he found amusement in the antics, Rangiku wasn’t exactly thrilled but she couldn’t exactly ignore the flutter in her heart every time she looked at him now.

Once more Gin pulled his soggy self from the water, pulled Rangiku up as well and gently walking her to the riverbank that still sat mostly in the sun, giving her a chance to dry some what before the sun set on their riverbed adventure. Yet, he didn’t join her just yet. Instead, he returned to the water attempting to snag another fish for their dinner that evening. While their antics in the water made the wait a bit longer, he did manage to score another catch.

As the sun was slowly setting, Gin rotated the two fish on a stick over the fire he had managed to start. Another useful skill Rangiku noted as she sat with her feet tucked up under her, luckily having dried off in the afternoon sun.

“…Gin…” Her tone was soft, gentle, gaze flickering up from the embers of the fire to him. “Why did you kiss me?” She questioned.

His hands stilled before he stood and shifted around the fire to sit beside her, “I wanted to.” He answered rather matter-of-factly, “Wanted to for a while now.” His smile shifted into a slight smirk, “and besides, ya caught of fish, had to give ya a reward somehow.”

His teasing earned him a small slap to his arm but even in the faint glow of the fire she felt her cheeks burning with a crimson blush.

“We should hurry up and eat if we wanna get back home before dark…” Gin stated, gently poking the fish to check for its doneness.

In the years that followed they returned to that riverbed countless times, spending many summer days near that small riverbed. Gin caught countless numbers of fish, scared Rangiku with frogs, lizards and the occasional snake, he’d climb trees and pull her up so they could sit above the water and simply watch the scenery for hours. They got into hundreds of water fights, splashing and kicking water at one another; it was maybe the only time they felt truly like children – the pressures of the world were easier then by the water.

She stood on the river’s bank a century and more later – their district remaining mainly untouched by time but not she. She slipped off her sandals, pulled off her tabi socks and tugged up her hakama as she let her toes dip into the cool water of the river. She waded out a few feet from the bank, her steps still as graceful but much more confident till she found the large river stone from her memories. She perched herself there turning to gaze down the riverbed in one direction then the other. A glimpse of déjà vu treating her to a sudden flicker of Gin’s form standing in the water a few feet away, his back turned to her. A lump suddenly appeared in her throat, she forced herself to look away, blink away the memory before turning to gaze back to see nothing and no one standing there.

A soft sigh escaped her as she let her neck stretch, her head fall back, long locks tumbled down her back as she let the sunshine rest it’s glow upon her face. If she tired hard enough, she could still hear the echo of their laughter in the babbling brook beneath her feet.

[lofitowns]

fireworks - mammon

❝ I OFTEN THINK THE NIGHT IS MORE ALIVE AND RICHLY COLORED THAN THE DAY ❞

in which a certain white-haired demon keeps pulling you away from his brothers (gn! reader)

         fandom ; obey me!

         word count ; 2085

         warnings ; n/a

         (y/n) - your name 

this is based on the recent summer festival event :) i love mammon with my whole heart

this isn’t the best thing i’ve ever written, considering i haven’t written in a while, but i hope you like it! it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope i did alright. i tried hard to find mistakes, but if i missed any, don’t hesitate to tell me!

     You couldn’t contain your excitement as your feet hit the pavement and lights danced in your vision. It had been a while since you had been to a proper festival. 

     You walked past countless booths, each one seeming more incredible than the last. The games didn’t look all that different from the ones you had in the human world, which surprised you. There was buttery popcorn and sickly sweet candy, the smells were intoxicating.

     Mammon, the ever spirited boy, was jumping around. The smile on his face was one of radiance, you wished it would stay like that forever. It nearly brought you to tears. 

     “I’m so psyched!” He exclaimed, tugging on your sleeve with a faint blush on his cheeks. You heard Beel’s deep laugh behind you, “We haven’t even started yet, and he’s already fired up!”

     Once your booth was set up, each of the boys was beaming at their handiwork. It was nice to see them all working together for a change.

     Lucifer explained the outline of the evening. You would all rotate between cooking and selling based on the lots you drew earlier. There would be two cooks and two salespeople while everyone else was free to wander the festival. 

     According to this system, you’d be selling first alongside Mammon. You felt a sort of tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach as your lips quirked up.

     Ever since you arrived at the House of Lamentations, you felt the closest to the white-haired demon. He made you feel safe and comfortable. He was your first after all, and he never failed to remind anyone and everyone. His brothers always teased him because of this, but you didn’t mind. You thought it was cute.

     “I guess you and me are up first for sellin’, (y/n). Think ya can manage?” Mammon questioned, moving so he stood behind the counter.

     “You can count on me!” You assured him, even if you were a bit nervous. You had never done anything like this up in the human world, but the only way to learn was to do.

     He let out a soft chuckle, “That’s what I like to hear!”

     It didn’t take long for a few customers to walk by, stopping to gaze at the bright pink sign Asmo had painted. You had suggested making it stand out, to which he wholeheartedly agreed. 

     “Welcome!” Mammon greeted, drawing out the second part of the word, “How about a deliciously sweet candy apple? The sugar coating’s crunchy, and we use only the freshest apples!” His words seemed to draw people in. He had always been charismatic, it seemed almost second nature to him.

     The couple nodded, placing an order for two apples. 

     “Way to go!” You complimented him with a smile after handing the two their orders. 

     “What, are you in awe of the Great Mammon’s sales skills?” A scoff left your lips, “I ain’t gonna lose to anyone when it comes to stuff like this!”

     It was mere moments before another demon stopped in front of your booth. Mammon shoved you forwards, “You’re up next, (y/n)!” 

     You took a deep breath and greeted him, leaning over the counter, “Hey, handsome!” That sure got his attention, “Come try out glossy candy apples!” You finished it off with a big smile.

     “That’s it! And here’s two for you, sir! Please come again!” Mammon handed over the apples before turning back to you, “You nailed it!”

     It went on like that for a while, you and Mammon would take turns trying to lure in customers. After a while, it seemed to come naturally and you were almost sold out.

     Lucifer came forwards to let the two of you off on a break, meaning your shift was halfway over.

     “Here, have a drink. You’ve earned it,” The white-haired demon’s hand outstretched to you, holding a small paper cup.

     Both of you took a drink, you using the opportunity to take in the figure in front of you. While you always thought he looked handsome, he looked especially so tonight. The lights cast by the red and white lanterns gave his smile a glow that felt, ironically, heavenly. The gold, white, and red colors of his yukata were vibrant against his tanned skin, making you almost drool.

     “You did pretty well,” He spoke, breaking you out of your trance.

     “Thanks to you, Mammon.”

     Your words brought a bright blush to his cheeks, you had to hold back your laughter. He was so easy to fluster, it was adorable.

     “Wh-What’s with the cute act? You lookin’ for a kiss?”

     It was your turn to turn red. You could feel your face heating up, flowing to the tips of your ears. Your eyes danced with mirth, taking a step closer to him.

     “Yep.”

     His eyes widened, it seemed like he thought you would have said no. “Fine! But only because ya want it so bad,” He tried to play it off, but his face had definitely gotten redder.

     It seemed like he was going agonizingly slow, waiting for you to back up if this was a joke. You reached your hand up, placing it softly on his face. He nuzzled his nose into it.

     Your lips pressed against each other’s soon after. They were a bit chapped and tasted like the candy coating of your apples. What were mere seconds felt like an eternity. You always felt like time stopped when you were this close to him.

     His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, the red still evident on his face. A soft sigh fell from his lips when he opened them and smiled. The two of you held each other’s gaze for a few moments before he broke the comfortable silence.

     “Okay, I’ve got my pep back! Rest up, then let’s go sell some more apples!”

     The pair of you worked in sync, one greeting and taking Grimm while the other handed apples out.

     “Mammon, (y/n), it’s almost time to switch,” Lucifer finally announced, causing you to turn your gaze over to him.

     “Finally! I’m exhausted,” The demon next to you let out a huff, reaching his arms up and arching his back as he stretched.

   -----

     You didn’t see much of Mammon until all the candy apples sold out. After that, you had to take your booth down, it felt like you had only just put it up. The night was going by so fast!

     With all the brothers finally free, you took the opportunity to walk around with them. It was a struggle to try and keep up with how energetic Mammon was. He would often take your hand, trying to lead you off somewhere else but the rest of them were always close behind. They weren’t about to leave you alone with him of all people.

     When music filled the air, you were all drawn to a small plaza filled with people dancing. You watched in awe at the couples twirling and laughing, it seemed like they were having a great time.

     You reached over, grabbing Mammon’s hand, “Come on!” You laughed, a smile gracing your lips. 

     He happily agreed, holding onto you tight so you wouldn’t slip away.

     Mammon switched between twirling you around and holding you close, but he never once let your hand go. As he looked down at you with those cobalt eyes, you felt like you two were the only people in the world.

     Every so often, his brothers would try to cut in, claiming it was their turn with the human! He was hogging them! Mammon would swiftly pull you away, shaking his head at them and sticking his tongue out. This caused you to laugh, setting your forehead on his shoulder.

     The two of you ended up gently swaying, his right hand rubbing up and down your back while his left held your hand in his. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it again, looking away while his face flushed red once more.

     “What is it?” You inquired, reaching your hand up to brush away the bangs that fell over his eyes.

     “I... I was just gonna say ya look really... Nice right now.”

     A genuine smile grew on your face, letting your hand drag down his cheek. “I think you look incredibly nice right now.” He finally gained the courage to look at you, a bright grin growing on his lips.

     “Of course ya think I do! I am the Great Mammon after all!”

     You laughed as he returned to his normal self. You leaned up, rubbing your nose into his cheek, placing a soft kiss on it.

     “H-Hey! What do you think you’re doin’?” He stuttered out but none the less, he brought you closer.

     “Ah, it’s almost time for the fireworks...” You heard Lucifer comment, causing you to pull from Mammon’s embrace. 

     “Oh, that’s right! Hey, (y/n)! Come with me. I know a great spot for watching the fireworks!” Mammon took your hand in his once more, starting to pull you off in a direction opposite his brothers.

     It wasn’t long before you heard your name being shouted behind you, but you were too giddy to care. Voicing your curiosity, you asked Mammon where he was taking you.

     He answered with a simple smile, quickening his pace.

     The scene in front of you was striking. He tugged you up a hill which overlooked the whole festival. The fireworks started soaring off into the sky as you took a seat next to your demon.

     Your eyes filled with wonder and amazement as you took in all the lights, colors, and smells in front of you. “Wow, Mammon.”

     “Yeah, pretty, ain’t it! I knew you’d like it, I am your first man after all!” He grinned, proud of himself.

     “Yeah, you are,” With that, you wrapped your arms around his waist, nudging his arm over your shoulders. 

     There was an undeniable heat radiating off of him, fueling the redness in both of your cheeks.

     The lights danced in the sky, letting off sparks of red and green and yellow. 

     Mammon turned his head, raising a hand to grab your chin. He tilted your head to the side so you were facing him.

     The look of utter admiration in his eyes was enough to give you butterflies. The tickling in your stomach increased every second he looked at you, you felt like your heart might beat out of your chest. You had never had anyone look at you quite like this before.

    “Can I... Can I kiss ya?” His voice was soft as velvet, searching your face for any kind of hesitation. You had never had anyone care this much about you either.

     Your words were stuck in your throat, so you simply nodded.

     His touch on your cheek was tender as you watched his eyes flutter shut. You were in the process of shutting yours when you heard loud voices and rushed footsteps. A soft growl left Mammon as he pulled back.

     “They’re up here, I know it!” Levi exclaimed, scrambling up the hill.

     “Mammon! You can’t just take the human off like that! You’ve had them enough today!” Asmo cried as the six demons came into view.

     You turned your head to look at the brothers and, suddenly, your quiet filled with the sound of raised voices.

     “Come now, Mammon. You know you can’t have them for yourself.”

     “That’s not fair!”

     “Hey! They wanted to be here with me!”

     "Yeah, right!"

     You sighed, shaking your head as you grew tired of their silly fight. It could be annoying, but it's not like you had seven cute guys fighting for your affection in the human world.

     “How about we all watch them together?” You suggested, looking from one brother to the next.

     It took a few moments for them to process what you said.

     Mammon was the first to speak, grumbling, but in agreement. “Alright, fine. If that’s what my human wants.”

     You weren’t sure how much of the firework show was left, but you were okay spending it with all of them. You’d have to get your kiss later.

     Seven bodies surrounded you, Mammon to your right, and Belphie snuggling up to you on the left. You took a look at all of them, smiling to yourself contentedly. 

     Mammon was sulking next to you, not at all happy that his time with you had been interrupted. You reached your hand over, lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. He looked down at you, his eyes immediately softening.

     You leaned up, pressing your lips against his chin.

     “Hey! Wait! That’s not fair!”

thank you for reading :) have a good day!

[since0202]

Chapter 42: Tail

The hand reached out through the dark forest as ancient blue light swept across its floor. Grace held her breath for what came next. The hand was reaching toward her, it’s soft, plump little arm glowing in the moonlight as the darkness of the forest swallowed up the body that was attached to it. As the hand reached toward Grace’s face, suddenly, it changed and the soft infant hand twisted into the gnarled skin and bone of Bella’s. She wrapped her decaying hand swiftly around Grace’s throat as she felt ice shoot through her veins. Bella emerged from the darkness of the forest. Her eyes were clouded and her porcelain skin was now hanging off of her face as black decayed bits dripped to the forest floor. Grace gasped for air and felt no warming presence around her. 

She was entirely alone. 

Bella closed the distance between, bending her head down intent on tearing open Grace’s throat. A gurgling sound grew up through Grace’s throat as she felt herself drowning in her own blood, despite never feeling Bella’s teeth tear into her. As she tried to muster a scream through the choking blood she heard a baby cry somewhere off in the forest. 

Grace shot up in bed, gasping for air, as the late morning light filtered in through the porthole window above her bed. She tentatively touched at the skin around her neck as she tried to pull in clean breaths to her lungs. Sweat dotted around her hairline and she looked around her. She was alone and had kicked off the sheets during her nightmare. Off to her right in the bathroom, she heard the shower running. Grace pulled her knees up and rested her chin on her knees trying to shake the dream. Her eyes darted to her cell phone lying open on the nightstand. She could tell by the lack of blinking light that she had no new messages. 

It had only been 5 days since Renesmee’s birth and Bella hadn’t woken up. Carlisle thought that they had made it in time to have the venom take hold and for the change to happen, but she had yet to wake up. After the second day of staying by Bella’s bed without sleep, Jacob had ushered Grace out of the room against her will and taken her home. Grace had fought but sleep won out. He had held her tightly to him in bed until she had fallen asleep, the tears still staining her cheeks as he tried to whisper soothingly to her. 

After coming home, Jake had told her it would be best for them to wait for Carlisle’s word before heading back over. 

“Why?” she had said angrily. 

“If she has turned, it’s not going to be immediately safe for us to be around her. You’ve fought newborns. She might not remember us right away,” Jacob said as he had gently pushed the hair out of her face. Grace was not having it. 

“She asked me to protect Renesmee. I should at least be able to see her to do that, don’t you think?” Grace folded her arms in front of her taking a step back from Jake. He let out a hard breath. He was nothing if not patient with her. 

“Yes, but you’ve done that. The threat is gone. Sam’s retreated, and we have a second to breathe until Bella comes back. Let’s just let the Cullens take care of Nessie for now and we’ll go back when we know it’s safe.” He pleaded. 

“Nessie?” Grace raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

Despite Jake’s efforts, Grace hadn’t been sleeping well. She was constantly woken up by nightmares and the rest of the time she spent pacing the house, too worried about Bella to let herself settle. She was constantly irritated, not at Jake, but at the situation in general, and she wasn’t able to think straight. Everything felt thrown in disarray despite the obvious calm that had fallen over the pack. Quil had even been by to see how they were doing. But for all that, Grace still couldn’t let herself calm down and her moods were unpredictable. 

“You nicknamed Bella’s daughter after the lochness monster?” Grace had let out a huff and turned toward the door. 

“Babe, please don’t make me chase you,” Jake said as Grace clambered down the front porch steps ready to recast. 

“I just want to see her Jake!” Grace spat, her voice got loud as she spun around to look at Jacob standing at the top of the steps, his arms by his side. He stared at her, concerned but frustrated. “I’m going.” She said with finality and Jake shook his head, a light laugh coming out of his mouth. 

“No. You’re not. Stay here.” He said, the alpha command clear and easy in his voice. Grace immediately felt her entire body tense up and the anger in her had tripled. 

“Excuse me?” she said through gritted teeth. Jacob was in front of her now, hands on her waist as he turned her and guided her back into the house. 

“Let’s go take a shower, maybe a nap, watch a movie. Carlisle will call us soon. But for now, I need you to stay put,” Jacob said with certainty. It was a gentle tone, but firm. Grace had seethed, bolting up to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. Jacob had taken the hint and stayed downstairs, now reassured that she couldn’t go anywhere.

Now as she sat with her arms wrapped around her legs, she felt the cold ache settle in her once more. Carlisle hadn’t called with word but Edward had sent a text saying that Bella might be waking up soon. He also sent Grace a picture of Renesmee who was sleeping peacefully in Rosalie’s arms. That must have been at Jake’s request and she made a note to thank him for his kindness when she was out of this funk. 

The faucet turned off in the bathroom and Grace turned her head toward the bathroom door. As steam pushed its way out around the massive figure blocking the door, she smiled. 

“Hey, come back to bed for a bit would you?” Grace said softly to him—a peace offering. She knew she had been difficult the past few days but her heart hammered with worry. 

“Don’t mind if I do!” Embry’s tall imposing figure, with a towel wrapped neatly around his waist launched toward her on the bed. 

“OH GOD!” Grace cried out in shock as the massive frame landed next to her, Embry’s arm pulling her back onto the mattress as she flailed. He made loud, exaggerated kissing noises and shook his wet hair out over her, sprinkling her with warm water. “EMBRY!” she cried pushing against him. “Get off!” she was laughing now, “Enough! You’re getting me all wet!”

“If I had a nickel for every time a girl said that to me,” he said wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Alright, get off her.” Jacob’s voice came clear through the doorway and Embry looked over his shoulder with a grin. 

“What? Can’t take a little competition?” Embry said as he hopped up out of the bed. Grace scrambled out of bed and righted herself. 

“As if you could compete with an imprint.” Jacob said. He gave Grace a nod and she felt her whole body swim with warmth. As if on silent command, she quickly padded across the room to him, a smile breaking across her face as she slipped into his outstretched arm that winded around her waist. 

Jake was settling into his own as alpha. He beamed confidence in his movements, his commands (but not orders, he tried to stay away from using the alpha tone with everyone as much as possible), and in how he led the pack. Grace felt magnetized to him. Sam and Jared had always made it seem like when you first imprinted that that was when the bond felt the strongest, as if you couldn’t breath without the other person there. But Grace had only felt the feeling grow in her as Jake came into his own and maybe as she did too. 

She still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the alpha order to stay put, but felt no need to fight against it. Jacob’s hand gripped her waist as he pulled her into his side more, cupping a hand to her jaw and leaning down to place a gentle kiss to her upturned face. He let a thumb slide across her cheek and Grace felt the wild swing of emotion pull through her again. 

“Sleep okay?” he said softly, his eyes roaming around her face to take her in. Grace’s breath caught in her throat. How did he do the intimacy thing so well, even when someone was standing in the room half naked behind them? She swallowed a lump down in her throat and gave a nod. He gave her a signature Jake grin before letting his hand drop from her face to wrap around her and pull her into a hug. 

As she buried her face into him he said to Embry over her head, “What are you doing in our bathroom and waking up my girlfriend for anyway?” Grace’s heart fluttered and she let out a quick laugh as he rubbed his hands down her back. 

“Ran through a particularly nasty mudslide this morning on my way back. Seth pushed me into it so, if you want someone to blame, blame him,” Embry said. 

Grace pulled out of Jake’s embrace and slipped off downstairs as she heard the bickering start between them. 

“You’re going to be cleaning out that shower if you left it a mess dude.”

“Who died and made you Mrs. Doubtfire?!” 

“I swear to god, Em.” 

“Suddenly, he gets a house and he’s all Jonathan Taylor Thomas in Man of the House.” 

“Can you stop naming 90’s movies? It’s 10 in the morning.” 

“You’re Clueless.” Grace could hear a scuffling upstairs now as Jake clearly tackled Embry. 

Grace stumbled into the kitchen and pulled out some pans to start breakfast as a distraction from the growing worry building in her now. After a few minutes of cracking some eggs into a bowl and cooking up some bacon, Jacob descended the steps, running a hand through his tossled black hair. Embry followed close behind, pulling on a black shirt and rotating his shoulder. Jacob came up behind Grace and put his hands gently on her arms, leaning down to kiss her neck before saying softly, “Need any help?” 

She gave him a small smile and shook her head, letting out a “Mmm mm.” He leaned up and let his hand run down the length of her back. 

“Kay, I’m going to go check on Leah and Seth. Let me know if you need anything,” he said tapping his temple as he headed toward the door. Embry crashed down onto the couch flicking the TV on. Jake high fived him as he went past. 

I need you to let me go see Bella. Grace’s inner voice muttered involuntarily. 

“Yah, I heard that,” Jake said, not stopping as he jogged out onto the beach, shedding his shorts and phasing out of sight. 

Later that night, Grace was wrapped around Jake in bed listening to the rise and fall of his chest as she stayed wide awake. Her heart hammered in her chest still. 

“Jake?” she said softly. He stirred and readjusted his hand to rest under her shirt on her covered hip. 

“Hmm?” he said sleepily. Grace bit her lip. 

“I want to go see Ti’Hal.” She leaned up, pressing on his chest, her weight not making a significant dent on his hard body, as she watched his face in the moonlight. 

“Okay,” he said casually. Grace’s eyes widened. 

“Really?” 

“Of course, Grace. You’re not a prisoner. You can leave and go see Ti’Hal,” Jacob said quickly. She immediately felt the weight of the alpha order lift from her and she exhaled a shuddering breath. Jacob suddenly realized what had happened: “Oh God, the stupid fucking alpha command. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I was just trying to keep you safe.” 

“I know,” Grace breathed trying not to belabor the conversation. “Thank you.” She leaned down and kissed him. He held her there for a  moment, his other hand placed on her back. Grace shivered and felt goosebumps erupt along her body as he deepened the kiss. 

She felt guilty for not being more present with him, but the constant worry of Bella’s life hanging in the balance made it hard for her to focus on much, and the distance from her only made it worse. While he was just trying to keep her safe, Grace couldn’t help but feel controlled. And just like in her early life, whenever she felt like someone was trying to control her, she rebelled against it. Jacob was hers though, and he only wanted the best for her but sometimes, she felt like he still didn’t trust her completely. Whether that was the imprint filling him with anxiety over her safety or the alpha in him, she wasn’t entirely sure. 

She let him roll her over onto her back as he fitted his knee between her legs, his lips never leaving hers. His hands roved under her shirt, tugging it up to expose her breasts. Grace tangled her hands in his hair and as he pulled away to kiss down her neck and collarbone, she let out a heady breath. Her knees trembled and she felt heat rising in her. 

Jacob ducked his head hungrily to take her right breast in his mouth and Grace pushed her head back into the pillow letting out a satisfied sigh. Jake’s left hand gripped in her waist as his right slithered down her waist. He dipped a tentative finger under the waistband of her lace underwear and traced the line of her hip to her lower stomach. His hands were deft and knew just where to go to make everything in her feel weak. As he slowly moved his hand down, Grace whispered his name in the form of a question. He knew what it meant.

He leaned his head up and the cool air that brushed across her exposed nipple made her shiver. “Okay.” He said, as his eyes connected with hers. Grace was frustrated with herself. Despite everything in her begging her to continue, something always stopped her from taking the next step with him. Jake had always said he understood even though she never offered an explanation, but she still felt unending guilt about it. He was her imprint, they were clearly in love, so what was the problem? What was she so afraid of? She couldn’t even bring herself to answer the question, not now, not with everything happening. Grace only knew that she just needed time to process whatever it was that was holding her back. 

He rolled off of her and pulled her into him, planting a kiss on her forehead as she wrapped her arms around his body. 

I love you. 

“I love you too. Get some sleep. For me,” he replied out loud Grace was flush with fresh regret at his overwhelming kindness and she burrowed her head into his neck to hold back the tears. 

Before Grace left the next morning to see Ti’Hal, Jake had taken her face into his hands. “I’d feel better if you took the truck instead of recasting.” Grace’s face fell. So, he thought she’d recast to the Cullen’s house anyway. The truck was easier to keep tabs on her with.

“Is that an order?” She said, sadness instead of anger threaded in her voice. Pain flickered across his face and he let his hands fall, taking her hands in his. 

“No. It’s not. I’m just asking you to take the truck instead. Can you do that for me?” He watched her carefully. Grace paused, letting her eyes connect with his and feeling the weight of the imprint pulse through her. The feeling was familiar, calming, safe. 

“Okay.” He let out a breath he’d been holding at her answer. 

“Thank you.” Jake pressed his forehead to hers and Grace closed her eyes. 

Please, just trust me. 

“I do, Grace. I just need to know where you are. I’ve already had too many close calls with you for one lifetime. Just do this for me as a favor. Please,” he said pulling back and ducking his head to meet her eye line. Grace nodded in understanding, putting a hand to his face. He kissed her and pulled her into a hug breathing a thank you into her hair before he left. Grace looked at the keys on the counter and hesitated before scooping them up and heading to the truck, pulling her hood up against the rain, her face set. 

The drive to Ti’Hal’s was peaceful as the rain splattered against the windshield. Grace felt calmed by the fact that she was fulfilling Jake’s request and also that she was able to leave the house. She believed him when he had told her he hadn’t intended to make her a prisoner there. And if Grace had asked to go anywhere other than the Cullen’s sooner, he clearly would have agreed to it. 

As she pulled into Ti’Hal’s muddy driveway, she let out a sigh of relief. The wafting smoke from her crooked chimney set Grace at ease and as she pushed the truck into park and hopped down, she felt a sense of renewal wash over her. She bounded up the short steps to the front door and as it swung open at her touch she beamed at the crouched figure of Ti’Hal working away at making tea. 

After two cups of tea and walking Ti’Hal through the events of the past six months, Grace kept her eyes trained on the fire as she mustered the courage to ask the question she’d been wanting to ask since she got there: 

“Did I do the right thing? Protecting Bella and the Cullens, I mean?” Grace’s heart felt as if it beat in her throat. Ti’Hal paused before saying, 

“Do you feel it was the right thing?” 

“Is this a trick where you answer every question with a question?” Grace met her eyes now, but Ti’Hal just smiled gently at her. After a beat, Grace let out a sigh and said, “It felt right. Mostly because I knew I couldn’t let Sam lose himself like that, or lead the others to do something like that. Plus, he was asking me to destroy my family. I couldn’t—” Grace choked a little on her words and couldn’t seem to continue. 

“Sam is also bound by his idea of family. And in the same way, you both were trapped in what you thought was right. He came around eventually though.” 

“So then...I was right?” 

“You were right to hold your own. But when it comes to protecting family, there is no right or wrong way, there is only love that guides us. And love can make us do things we normally didn’t think ourselves capable of.” She said pouring herself some more tea. 

“Yeah, like give your girlfriend alpha orders to stay in the house like Rapunzel locked in a tower.” Grace grumbled. Ti’Hal watched her carefully and let out a chuckle. 

“Young Jacob is quickly understanding his power as alpha. He’s bound to make a mistake or two along the way. You’d be wise to forgive him some of those mistakes. And he’ll forgive yours too.” 

“Even premeditated mistakes?” Grace said offhand. Ti’Hal didn’t answer right away, and Grace wasn’t even sure she had even heard her at all until she said, 

“You both will make mistakes with each other, in the name of love for one another and for others. What matters is how you come back together.” 

Grace leaned back onto the floor and splayed her limbs out around her trying to ground herself in Ti’Hal’s warm living room. But her decision was already made as soon as she scooped up the keys and walked out the door this morning. 

As Grace said her goodbye’s to Ti’Hal, she tread carefully toward the truck and opened the door before placing the keys on the driver side seat, closing the door and turning on her heel. Just as she turned and was about to recast, Embry caught her eye, leaning against a tree in Ti’Hal’s front yard with his arms crossed and without a shirt. 

“Jesus Em!” Grace started, clutching a hand to her chest. 

“How was your visit with Ti’Hal?” he said nonchalantly, a knowing casualness to his voice as he stayed planted next to the tree. Grace took a few deep breaths to steady herself before she leveled him with her eyes. 

“It was good. What are you doing here?” She asked knowing the answer already. 

“Ah, well you see, Jake asked if I could swing by and keep an eye out for you. Didn’t want you getting lost on your way back into town or the rez. He’s perceptive like that.” Embry smirked. 

“So, he’s assigned private security to me now? Why not just give an alpha order and call it good?” She was irritated now. He had the audacity to have Embry keep tabs on her in case she bolted for the Cullens? “This is absolute bullshit, Em.” She said her voice raising slightly. Embry put his hands out in front of him in surrender. 

“Hey don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just here to do the job I was assigned. So, where to next? Charlie’s? The diner? We could swing by and see Sue, I’m sure she’d have some grub.” Embry was invested now, excited for his Spirit Bird day out. 

“I don’t need a chaperone, but thanks anyway,” Grace said as she walked away from the truck toward the treeline. 

“Uhh, truck’s that way, Gracie-poo,” Embry said, raising his eyebrow in confusion. 

“Yeah well, if alpha overlord Black thinks I’m going to recast and break the rules anyway, what’s the point in sticking to the plan, right?” Her frustration was boiling over into anger now. She clenched her hands into fists as she trudged forward. Embry jumped out in front of her. 

“Or, you could be totally chill and not get me in trouble and we could just go somewhere that is definitely not the Cullen’s place. And you can yell at our overlord later!” Embry almost begged but Grace pushed past him. “Grace don’t do this! You know I’m going to have to tell him right away after you recast anyway and it’s going to end in a blow out.” 

“Fuck off, Em!” Grace said. 

“He’s just asking you to wait! Just a little longer until they know it’s safe. Can’t you just wait!?” 

Grace stopped in her tracks and thought about it for a moment. His ask was not entirely unreasonable. Was she just being impatient? Was she being impulsive? Or was it just that she pulled so hard against any form of control, done in the name of protection or not, that was a holdover from her childhood? Grace wondered all at once if she was just being selfish. He pleaded with her this morning to just take the truck, a way of asking for her to promise not to go to the Cullen’s without the pressure of actually asking it. And she had agreed. So why couldn’t she just stick to the plan? 

Grace felt her resolve go limp. She hesitated for a moment, almost turning to go back to the truck and then she recast quickly, hearing the tail end of a yell as Embry tried to tell her to stop. 

[yandere-society]

Day 10 | Home For Christmas

Synopsis: The two new hot guys next door are super friendly and very helpful! Especially since you’ve injured your leg and now are forced to prance around in your wheelchair. They came over to your house, put up decorations, helped you bake and kept you company when you couldn’t be home for Christmas. Although now that you think about it, they’re a little too friendly…to the point you can’t tell them no.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Namhope x Female Reader

Admin: @roses-ruby​​

Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior, Murder, Physical abuse, kidnapping 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

🎶You can plan on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree🎶

“Oop, let me get that for you-”

Your outstretched hand stops midair, head turning to face the tall dimpled man on your left. He smiled at you fondly and you felt your cheeks warming.

“Thank you.” You say, pushing yourself back to make room for his long legs. Namjoon shifts, taking the red ornament out of your hand, and placing it on a high branch. You watch silently as he tinkers with the small toy stockings, humming along to Crosby’s I’ll be home for Christmas which continually rung throughout the house from your mom’s old record player on the back shelf. Suddenly, he makes eye contact with you again, his eyes turning into little crescents as his mouth stretches, leaving you blushing and turning away. It wasn’t something you could help.

Since the first time you laid eyes on him, you’ve always thought he was so freaking hot. Speaking of hotties-

“Alright, the pie is done!” A shout comes from behind you, making you turn your head as the wheels of your chair rotate back. A man with a heart-shaped smile and eyes brighter than the sun steps out of the kitchen in his pink frilly apron, setting down the holiday pie on the table directly in front. One whiff of the sweet desert has your mouth watering in delight.

“It smells delicious, Hoseok! You both are so kind…thank you for everything.”

Said man laughs, the melodious sound echoing the walls along with the music, “Nonsense, we’re always here to help.”

“Exactly, that’s what neighbors are for.” Namjoon chirped, walking over to where Hoseok stood. He took a glance at the pie and then poked the top, immediately being reprimanded by Hoseok’s oven mitt hand.

“Don’t do that, you’ll ruin it.”

Namjoon retracts his hand, resembling a kicked puppy, “I just thought it looked cool. You don’t have to be so mean.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be if you didn’t just drop the eggnog on yourself this morning, while standing completely still.”

“Hey! That was an accident!”

You gaze in confusion as the men began to argue, an amused sigh leaving your lips.

Namjoon and Hoseok were the two sexy guys from next door, helping you around the house while you sat there helpless with a broken leg, as well as your lovely new best friends. They had moved into the apartment next door back in July, before the start of the fall semester. It was a breath of fresh air honestly, as your last neighbor was a cranky old lady with way too many mean cats. You weren’t sure what happened to her, but you weren’t complaining once you ran into Joon in the hallway as he carried large boxes into his apartment.

His muscles ripped through his loose grey tank top and his arm flexed while he lugged the heavy load. He was tall, jacked, smart, kind and very dorky. You almost fell in love at first sight. Then there was his sun in human form roommate, Hoseok. Now, Hoseok may not have been as giant or as muscular as Namjoon, but his bright personality, social nature and lethal moves did not lose to anyone. Millions of women would become wet in a matter of seconds from the way he twisted his hips. Millions more at Namjoon’s deep honey voice.

You were blessed to have such hotties living next door.

Because of their approachable nature, they befriended you very quickly. It went from small talks in the hallway to long conversations as you rested on your couch. From shy glances here and there a few times a week to seeing one another daily. They had practically moved in. Their shoes were always in your house, you had bought them their own pair of toothbrushes for your bathroom and they even had a small section of their clothes in your closet. You all even started heading to classes together.

Of course, you had lusted for them in the beginning. Sometime their gazes were intense, and it seemed like they were eye-fucking you. Other times they seemed to get very jealous if you had anyone else in your apartment or if you went anywhere without telling them. But you knew it was all in your imagination. It’s not their fault if they just couldn’t help but ooze sex appeal which made you imagine the two hot guys next door – your best friends – being obsessed with you. As of now you were fine with the wonderful friendship you were able to build with them. Better off as friends as they say.

You had been quite lonely when you moved into the big city, away from your family who you were always close to. Your dad had warned you about the many dangers of the city so you made sure to stay safe and away from those who could wish you harm. Joon and Hoseok were the first people that made you open yourself up and for that you were grateful. It was very fun to spend your days being tutored by Namjoon or laughing at Hoseok. Though you still longed for your family when the holiday season arrived. Sadly, as you were making plans to visit home, someone had decided to push you down the University’s stairs which resulted in a horribly broken leg bone and a laggy wheelchair.

No one saw who did it.

Unable to fly, you were stuck in your small apartment for all of the festive season. The first night you had cried a lot on the phone with your mother, but your amazing best friends had barged in and promised to make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had right here in the apartment. They were so serious about it, they hadn’t let you leave the place even for a bit. Decorations, entertainment, food, they had it all planned out and thanks to them, you were able to have one of the merriest Christmas eve’s of your life.

🎶Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams🎶

The music from the record player wakes you from your daze, your eyes once again concentrating on the two bickering men in front of the dinner table.

With a smile, you turn back around to the pine tree, to see it filled with many kinds of decorations and ornaments. Yet it was still missing something. A small pout forms on your lips as you recall the weeping phone conversation you had with your mother. You had told her to send your favorite ornament – a small marbled turtle dove, over to your place so you had something from home you could cherish this year. It was a keepsake from your childhood and had many memories attached to it. Tomorrow was Christmas and you wondered why it hadn’t arrived already.

Maybe the front desk has it?

It wasn’t like you could call them, phone reception in your apartment had been getting worse and worse for some reason. With a sigh, you rotate back around to see Namjoon and Hoseok arguing about the dinner plates. If you use the elevator, you could rush downstairs, inquire about any packages and rush back upstairs without either of them noticing,

Nodding to yourself, you wheel your chair to the front door. You quietly pull open the door as Joon and Hobi’s voices and I’ll be home for Christmas continue to surround the background. With a few swift moves, you were in the hallway, heading for the elevator.

For some reason you felt uneasy. The same feeling you got before you were pushed down the stairs. You stopped in front of the lift, pressing the button and waiting anxiously for its arrival. The door of the elevator opened quickly to your relief and as soon as you were about to roll in-

-a deafening scream of your name pierces through the quiet hallway and startles you.

Immediately you were being pulled away from the elevator, pushed back into the hallway you came from and shoved inside your apartment as the door banged shut behind you. It was deathly lull, all you could hear was your heavy breathing even though you hadn’t moved an inch and the old Christmas song still repeating. Slowly you turn around to face the entrance and were met by the raging scowls of Namjoon and Hoseok.

A chill runs down your spine at the fury in their eyes.

“W-w-wha-”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hoseok growls, and you gasp at the venom in his tone. This was not the cheerful, loving Hoseok you knew.

“Seriously ___,” Namjoon groans, voice slightly tamer than Hoseok’s, “How could you leave the second we weren’t looking?”

“N-no I-”

“This is your fault.” Joon spits at Hoseok “I told you to break both of her legs so she couldn’t move at all.”

Your jaw hangs open.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I kill the old lady, I push ___ down the stairs, I set up that complicated ass box that blocks the cell signals and what do YOU do exactly?’

All the information was speeding around your brain and you could feel yourself choking up. Did he just say kill?

“You’re the one who wanted to do all that! Always fucking criticizing me for being clumsy and shit- fuck, I plan, YOU execute, remember?”

As they begin to argue once again, you start shaking in your seat. Murderers. Not only did you befriend the people who were responsible for your broken leg, but you had let actual murderers into your home. Suddenly everything started to make sense. Your neighbor lady suddenly disappearing. You always running into them whether in your complex, university or even the store. In fact, you always felt they were a bit too pushy with their help, but you didn’t want to be mean. The over-friendly skin ship and how they constantly made you feel guilty until you blocked all the other people from your life. How they pushed themselves and their belongings into your apartment.

How they made your home their home.

Holy shit…shitshitshit what were you going to do now? Who could you call? Where would you go with this broken leg? How would you escape? They could do whatever they want to you and they knew it.

“-__?...___!” The sound of your name jolts you. Hoseok sits on his knees, eye level with you as Joon sits beside him, equally concerned. “___, are you alright?”

This…this was the Hoseok and Namjoon you know. The ones who infiltrated your life with their handsome faces and kind personalities. When you don’t answer him, he cups your face causing you to stiffen.

“Hey don’t worry. I know we argued a lot, but it’s fine now. Since you’re here…since we have you…just don’t leave us again.” He states gently, tilting his head to the side like an insane person. “Instead, why don’t we go eat that pie, hmm?”

You could feel your pupils shaking as you look into his bottomless orbs. Though you were in your own home, you have never been more afraid.

“He’s right you know.”

You turn to Namjoon beside him who places his hand above your limp one. The very first tear drops out of your socket as you find him smiling. How you wish you could have found the sinister reality of his dimpled smile those thousand times he’s shown it to you before.

“We have you and you have us. So, if you leave us like that again, we’ll be very upset…we may lose our temper and who knows what we would do…just…You should stay home for Christmas, alright?”

And as soon as he says that the stupid never-ending song repeats its end once more.

🎶I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams🎶

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Kon’s Glitter is in the Air Performance

Music Here - Artwork by @clayscence “We have all lost loved ones; family, lovers, children even friends. Moments in time occur when you know they are still watching over you. This song is about those angels. Your love goes on because they never stop watching out for you.” The lights go down till the stage is pitch black. A soft twinkling of star-like lights start to slowly twinkle center of the stage. One, two, three. A single backlight illuminates a silhouette of an elf in the center with dimly lit colors of the night sky, a small bit of fog settling reflecting the dark blues and whites of the lights. He is alone except for a large Cyr wheel that he grips like an oversized hula-hoop. On both knees bent over as if in a low prayer, his hands are extended out on either side of himself with elbows slightly bent as he holds it up off the ground in mild suspension. The very wheel itself seems to be the source of the twinkling light as LEDs within it help illuminate the starry feel of this night sky setting. He appears to be wearing a leather harness lined with grey and blue owl feathers which also seem to be extending down his backside near his arms. His dark grey skin with the subtle violet hues easily blends well with the low lighting and around his neck a leather choker with an amulet of stars dangling from it. From his pants dangle what appear to be soft owl feathers of various colors hanging from his hips on either side. His eyes were masked with subtle feathers and glitter along the cheekbones and eye ridges to look like that of an owl. As the violin starts playing with sweeping notes, the wheel continues to slowly twinkle timed with the music. With practiced nonchalance, he rolls the heavy wheel on its edge, causing it to trace a slow path around him as he stands up fully. With one last slow turn of the wheel he steps outside it at the right moment, back now to it. He slides the top of the wheel against his shoulders with one arm stretching out to hold the wheel as if in a caress as he positions himself. His left leg raises and toes reach out to the opposite side of the wheel as they start the wheel in a slow spin.

With the violin rising higher and growing sweeter, he starts to slowly walk the wheel around the stage in a wide slow circle with perfect timing. The wheel LEDs now slowly transition via soft fades from dark blues to deep violets. Stepping through the wheel using a reverse rotational grip with one hand the wheel revolves around him. His other hand rising and falling in time with the volin to express a gentle emotion through movement. Everything perfectly timed as if walking among the stars. He slows the wheel to a stop with two graceful spins of his hand facing the wheel now in a  pause as the violin fades and the nights sky LEDs quickly trail up to the top of the wheel flashing softly before going out in time with the music. Just as the vocals came gliding in unison with the violin, with athletic precision he steps onto the wheel with both feet and grabs the edges with both hands. The wheel now revolves 360 degrees in a continuous wide circle pattern, resembling a waltz. The feathers that hang from his side now fanning out and trailing with him as he spins and turns synched with the music. The wheel's LED's remain off as focus is placed on him and his manipulation of the wheel itself showing just how in sync he is with its movement conveying a delicate balance and grace. His head dips down fully and feet fall down along the wheel too, spinning it faster and faster now closer to being fully upright. The lights go dimmer and the LEDs start to flicker back on in a kaleidoscope of color all in sync with the quick fast sounds of the violin conveying a flurry of intense emotion all at once perfectly silhouetting his body. The moment the base hits along with the intense vocal and violin conveying such strong emotion the wheel lights up in a full delicate night sky rainbow of blues to violets to greens all the way around reflecting off his feathers and well toned body. With hands both gripping the top of the wheel in a wide outstretched grip he raises both feet off the wheel and extends his body outward while facing down, appearing to be carried away by the wheel while somehow still controlling its every motion. Ankles together and toes pointed he mimics a graceful flying motion soaring midair.

With arms and hands still spread wide along the top of the wheel, the musculature of his backside and all the work he's put into his body for this performance now shines in the glow of the LED lights as various stars along the night sky colored wheel flicker brighter here and there. His head still downcast and hands still holding tight to the top, he brings his legs back into the wheel but tucks them up into his chest now so they still don't touch the wheel leaving him suspended from it as it continues its center spin though it is starting to slow.

His legs start to lower, the right one still tucked under but the left coming down and pointing out in front of the wheel as it spins slower yet. His dreads and feathers all slowly fall back into place along his body till both feet come down to touch the ground. Just as he touches down and stands up he continues his body's spin synched with the slowing wheel momentum. As he starts to stand erect in the center of the wheel remaining in one spot, he continued with both hands to spin the wheel around him with just enough force that he soon was able to release the wheel entirely letting it orbit around him freely as the music echoes and fades before the first lyrics are sung.  Standing still in the center the wheel LEDs reflect a soft blue off his skin as it continues to orbit around him. His head turns down and eyes close as he brings his arms up across his chest as if holding himself. His right palm presses over his heart as if listening to that old familiar silence the lyrics reflect. His eyes start to slowly open as he turns his head skyward looking to the stars above. His right hand raises up as if reaching to the stars before slowly and fluidly falling back down in time to catch the top of the wheel mid orbit around him. With hands once more gripping wide on top of the wheel he leans far back laying his head back too as he rises to his toes on one leg and raises his other leg out fully in front of him with toes pointing out. The LEDs light up in a rainbow of night sky colors once more and as he starts to slowly fall to the side they slowly track around the wheel making the colors move opposite the direction he starts to roll. As he falls down with the wheel rolling to the side, he never lets go as hands come down to the ground with the wheel. Face now gazing down at the stage and feet both now stretched out making his body move and roll while staying straight and acute in angle to the position of the wheel at all times but never letting his feet drag. As the wheel and his body come back up still circling the stage, his back is to the stage and head looking up to his hands while his body is still straight and acute in angle with the circling wheel. Just before the wheel brings him back down a second time he throws one leg into the air, pushing off the floor with the other, jumping into the air and landing again on his first leg creating a grand jeté movement as his body continues to fall down with the wheel again still circling the stage. He would repeat this movement along with the jeté four times in sync with the soft humming of the voice. Each time the LEDs grow dimmer and dimmer still tracking the wheel in movement.

As the vocals return their lyrics of darkness, the LEDs go out till only white sparkles of light like a twinkling light is seen in the wheel. The lights on the stage also fade out slowly getting dim enough that Kon was now perfectly silhouetted. At the end of that fourth and final jeté he would add an extra hop and with athletic precision his body would now enter the wheel entirely with both feet spread out while still grabbing the edges with both hands also spread out. The wheel continues its wide circling on the stage with his body still inside it. One hand alone eventually holds the wheel as the other comes behind his back. The LEDS still twinkle white lights but they too are getting softer and dimmer as darkness closes in. Still spinning around, he locks his shoulders and forces the wheel to make tighter spins center stage. Slowly the wheel is brought into a flat spin with his body face down still within it! Resembling a coin losing its speed after being spun on its edge the wheel becomes flatter and flatter as if he might fall on his face with the wheel any second. The spinning picks up speed rapidly in timing with the rapid chaotic flury of the violin emanating the chaos every heart feels in the peak of a moment when they truly wonder if anyone is still there for them! The LEDs become a flurry of confusing flashing colors trapping him inside them all adding to the chaos of emotions. A perfect reflection of just how difficult this move and the emotions are as his body remains locked to keep from truly letting the wheel fall flat! At the last second he brings the wheel back upright while spinning it in a handspring before he and the wheel stand erect once more.

As the beat and vocals hit the LEDs on the wheel light back up in perfect timing, this time in three shades of blue all around the wheel. With the wheel now spinning center stage fully erect he keeps it rotating on its center axis with legs and arms fully spread top and bottom of the wheel. His body arcs outward into a perfect arc that brings his chest far out of the wheel while his head arcs back between his shoulders gazing upward. The perfect visual with feathers and dreads splayed out around his form indicating being slowly pushed along by some unseen force like wind itself.

The LEDs start to shift into three shades of violet hues. With his body still arced up and out as the wheel still rotates his toes creep up just a little higher on the wheel. Hands let go of the sides till they are now sticking through and above the wheel. With arms back behind him, fingers opened wide out to the skies above, his head starts to sway revolving his dreads around his shoulders like he is becoming lost in both the beat and a memory letting them carry him away. The wheel slows its rotation as feathers slow their fall back along his legs. As his feet slide back down the wheel the LEDs fade to three shades of red hues tracking the wheel. Putting more weight on his right pivot foot, one hand overhead gripping the wheel in line with the same foot he would continue the pivot rotating his foot back to face the leading edge of the wheel to begin another turn. Continuing this movement a few slowed half turns of the wheel keep the wheel turning around him while it slowly still waltzes in a smaller slowed circle around the center stage. In sync with the powerful heavy beat the LEDs pulse in red as he brings his feet together into the wheel and both off to one side making it look like he was standing in one corner of the wheel as it continues its spin. With every beat he uses his body's force and a slight knee bend before pushing off still inside the wheel bringing his body up till he was perfectly parallel to the stage. As the wheel quickly whips around and brings him back down he bends his knees while it rotates and repeats his actions as the the corner thrusts and momentum increases the speed of the wheel once more while displaying his total control of where the wheel spins and lands each rotation despite the difficult corner spins.

As the violin flys off once more into its solo magical virtuosity, the LED's become a flurry of mixed reds, blues, greens and violets. Each time he spins the wheel a trail of color follows displaying more heightened emotion and the struggle within. To pair with the pain of loss and the search for angels he displays his own physical struggle as well. Keeping the wheel spinning faster while performing a complex form of a Ronde de Jambe with the colors tracking their patterns around him. One leg comes out and sends his wheel down in a fast spin with his head and hands down to the ground as the leg moves in and out of the wheel, always pointing his toes. The wheel comes back up and yet he continues with his leg going back now in the opposite direction keeping the spins timed with the violin.  As the violin slows and the music suddenly drops into the intense slow beat like that of a beating heart, his wheel's lights start to pulse in red lights alone but only in the centermost area of the wheel. Placing his feet and arms both spread wide with a slight bend in the knees he brings the wheel to a fast rotation. However the wheel starts moving in a wide full revolution around the full circumference of the stage. Faster and faster he brings the rotation as his dreads and feathers were spinning faster and faster with him. The pulsing red lights along the center of the wheel start to take shape the faster he spins while revolving around till the audience can see the shape of a heart taking form with a red outline of a bigger heart around it. The two pulsing as if beating in perfect synch with the music as he reaches his peak speed. Just as the beats rise to their own climax, the LED's and all lights go out momentarily.

At the sudden return of the emotive, powerful voice, the lights return and the LED's are now once more the full night sky rainbow all the way around with a few bright white lights twinkling like stars. He and the wheel are both still spinning but now centerstage as he uses the last of the built up momentum to rise himself up over the top of the wheel. One leg wrapped over the top of it, the other bent and pointed in the opposite direction. The wheel spinning a few rotations with him up top before he unwraps his leg and lowers himself back down as he shows his athletic precision suspending himself from the top mid spin. His feet tuck up as only one toe points down again as he softly touches the bottom of the wheel like he was a descending angel himself coming down from the sky.  In a simple waltz now with the rotating wheel, he holds the top with one hand and points out to the audience as she sings about playing 'your song'. His movement slow and fluid as the next lyrics are sung he brings his hand back in placing it over his heart as he stares up with such intensity and depth of emotion towards the sky. Still ‘strong enough’ his eyes slowly close for a moment as if still dreaming as he brings his feet together, the wheel forced to spin around him in five full twists while his body is literally twisting in the middle of it making his hair and feathers fan out quickly then fall back down in timing with the violin.

Stepping out of the wheel he stops it, standing behind it with both hands holding the top. The LED's now return to nothing more than sparkling starlight around his wheel silhouetting him as he is ‘all alone’. As the final lyrics ‘our love goes on and on’ plays he leans his body back as one single hand raises up into the air and at that exact moment the imagery of a red lunar lantern rises up into the air behind him on the back lit wall only to disappear as the lights go dim. At the very moment the violin also plays its last high note he quickly brings himself up through the wheel, backflipping over the top of it while hands still hold the top. He lands in a kneeling crouch with one hand to the ground and one hand holding the top of the wheel. Head gazing skyward as the stage goes entirely dark, the starlit wheel twinkles and fades into finale.

(The following was performed during @succulent-tart​ Glitter is in the Air performance.)