#my brain comes up with curses no evil fairy would ever dare.

[notbecauseofvictories]

it would be funny in a horrible, helpless way, if I've spent all month in a funk---trying various things to break out of it, or at least do something productive---when I just needed to go back to my parents' house for a second visit and insist I leave early, refusing to take no for an answer.

[cinnamontoasttaes]

Till Death Do Us Part - myg

pairing: Yoongi x reader

genre: Assassin Au, eventual smut.

word count: 5.972k

warnings: blood, gore, lots of cursing, action, violence, sexual content.

summary: Assassins are not supposed to fall in love.

author’s note: I don’t know what the fuck I just wrote but I hope you enjoy this. Let me know if it’s good enough for a second part. Have a lovely day my beautiful peeps.

                                                  ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Making a run for it, you jump off of the edge of the high-rise building. The chilly wind slapping you harshly in the face as you brace yourself for landing. Knees tucked in, arms spread out as the balls of your feet come in contact with the flat surface. 

It has been a week since you last saw him, a whole fucking week. Yet, you keep coming back here, but not intending to do what you should have done a long time ago. Instead, you were here searching for a Yoongi that didn't exist, one that would comfort you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said. 

                                   ——Flashback to that night——

“I Love you--”

Your eyes widen and a gasp escapes your lips, afraid of the words that had just come out of them. Searching his eyes, you pray he didn’t hear it. But eyes that were once clouded with euphoria were now overtaken with shock and disgust. 

You panic and push him off of your sweaty and naked body. Wincing at the sudden loss of his cock as cum oozes out of your pussy and trickles down your thighs. Not wanting to believe you just said that, you look up at the seahorse fairy lights on the ceiling wishing that they would come alive and carry you out to a galaxy far away.  

“What did you just say?” he asks, his voice raspy and low. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, so loud that you could hear the thumping rhythm in your ears going...LUB... DUB... LUB... DUB... LUB... DUB. 

“What did you just say?” he repeats, and your blood drains from your face as you stare at nothing but the dim light coming through the sheets. Biting onto your bottom lip, you realize that there was no escaping this, that you would eventually have to tell him. And just as you say the words in your head, he pulls the covers off of your face in one quick motion. Your eyes widen, quickly locking onto the seahorses again, not daring to look at him.

“W-what,” you stutter as tight knots take over your stomach.

“Look at me y/n,” he growls...but you didn’t want to... you didn’t want to face him just yet, afraid of being rejected by the one guy you said those words to.

“It just slipped out, I didn't mean it...just forget I ever said that,” you say, trying your best to keep your cool but hearing as your voice cracks at the end.   

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

But if only you knew what was going through his head at that moment, that he didn't just want to forget about it. That all he wanted was to hear you say those words over and over again. Just like that, with you underneath him, your beautiful brown eyes glazed over and your soft lips curled up into a smile, pulling him closer as he filled you up with his cum. 

Wanting to use this as an opportunity to tell you that you were everything he had ever wanted, to tell you he felt the same way. That all he desired was to hold your hand, to wake you up with kisses every morning, to hold you when your nightmares struck, and dry your tears when you cried. That he wanted to do all those things and more because ever since you stepped foot inside the agency. Your small body soaked with blood from head to toe, a big smile on your face as if you hadn't just finished killing someone with those small bare hands of yours. Since that day he hasn't been the same and he hated you for it. Hated you for making him feel such strange feelings he thought he would never feel. 

It was frustrating to think that you could be the one to warm up his icy heart. How? When not even his mother or his brothers, the people who cared for him the most made him feel the way you did. He wanted to tell you the truth, to tell you that all his life he has tried his best to ignore his feelings for you, convincing himself that he could never like an annoying girl like you. 

To apologize for always breaking your toys and making you cry as if it was his full-time job. To tell you he didn't hate you, but the boys who played with you, held your hand and made you things during art class. To tell you he never understood why your face lit up every time they gave you something, that even if it was ugly or falling apart, you cherished it deeply. 

You seemed so strange to him, like an alien from a different world, that knew something he didn’t. How could a person be so kind yet so evil at the same time? He would ask himself, always trying to figure you out. While secretly wanting to see your face light up like that for him. To tell you that that was the reason he stayed up all night the day before your 12th birthday, making you a clay ring that looked like a frog because you were always jumping around. And just as he pushed the ring into your hands the next day... it happened. Your big brown eyes widened like a beaming sun on a summer day. Burning through his corneas, but he couldn’t look away as it was the prettiest sight he has ever seen. Then you smiled at him, a smile that made him feel things he couldn’t quite explain. 

That what he meant to tell you when he threatened to kill you if you told anyone about the ring was that he hoped you liked it. To tell you how he almost struck a bow into Jackson's head that same day when he caught him kissing you under the same place where he had given you the ring. Upset that you didn't even push him away, upset that he wasn't old Yoongi who would have felt indifferent and done nothing just because he didn’t have feelings. But he wasn't that Yoongi anymore, but one who suddenly felt hurt and betrayed just at the thought of you being someone else’s. 

He wanted to be your first kiss... just like you were his first everything. 

But even though he felt this way for you and wanted to tell you all these things. The walls he has built from years of conditioning, brainwashing, toxic relationships, near-death experiences, depression, and other issues he swears his brain blocks out to protect him. Keep pushing you away, not allowing you to get too close. 

Even though he’s always his best when he’s with you. He hopes you can find a better man one day, one who knows how to love you and treat you the right way.

 Now there was only one way of ending this and that was to hurt you, like always.

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

“We both agreed that this was just a sex thing, nothing more. We are assassins for god's sake, we know nothing about love,”

A chill runs down your spine and you knew you should have stayed quiet, but your traitor of a heart betrays you once again, “You're wrong...because if that was true I wouldn’t be feeling this way for you….tell me you feel nothing for me!” you cry out, your face turning hot. 

“Y/N what the fuck are you talking about, you were just a way for me to pass time. Shit of all the women I’ve fucked I would have never thought that... you, someone who is as lifeless and cold-hearted as I would be the one to say those words to me-” He pauses but continues, “I hope you're not getting confused with the other stuff we have been doing in here because if you are I should’ve just stayed with Juna or-” 

Before he could even finish his sentence, you strike him on the side of the face, so hard his head turns. Your hand tingles as it falls back onto your lap. You don’t realize, but you’re sitting up now, the sheets that were once hiding your upper body now pooled around your thighs. Your chest heaving up and down as you feel your eyes water. Angry at yourself for catching feelings for him, angry that you allowed yourself to be blinded by the moments you’ve both shared, mistaking it for fucking love. 

“You're a real piece of shit you know that right, how dare you bring her up right after I-... after I-...you know what Yoongi just leave, go fuck her for all I care,” You shout, biting onto your quivering bottom lip as you look at him. 

His hand is covering his right cheek where you had slapped him, but you could see the red hand mark from the gaps between his fingers. His furrowed brows accentuate the pale ridged scar that runs down from the top of his left brow and stops right in the middle of his cheek. His cold eyes glaring at you intently as the corners of his mouth turn into a smirk.

“Don’t worry, that’s where I’ll be tonight because you can’t honestly think, that you have been the only one I’ve been fucking all this time,” he says, venom dripping from his voice and you feel like throwing up. 

Putting your trembling hands into fists, ready to lunge at him, you stop yourself, a low chuckle escaping your shaky lips. He wasn’t fucking worth it, you should have known better, you should have stopped yourself before it got this far. “I'll burn this place down tomorrow,” You push the words out, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat.

You remove the frog-inspired clay ring from your ring finger, the one he had made for you when you had just turned 12. And place it on the bed beside him, your finger suddenly feeling naked without it. Not giving him a second glance you get off the bed, the cold air hitting your naked body traitorously. You pick up your clothes that were scattered around the floor, get dressed, and before you know it you are out the door. The cold air greeting you like a fake friend as you push your way through the thick fog. 

You make your way down the building and once in the comfort of your car;  you rest your head against the steering wheel and let your tears fall.

  -—-Flashback Ends----

                                                                                                                                       With a sigh, you pull out the lighter from your pocket, twirling it around your fingers as you stare up at the house. 

Remembering when you both found it, on top of an abandoned skyscraper in Busan. The day you were both forced by the chairwomen of the academy to go on a mission together, as a punishment for almost killing each other again in Poison lab 101. Threatening us that if the mission wasn’t a success that she would send us both to the basement and no matter how cold of a killer you were, no one wanted to go down there. It surprised you that locking the both of you in the basement wasn’t their first option. 

In all honesty, they should just lock Yoongi in the basement because he’s always the one to start fucking problems with you. Ever since you came to the agency at 7 years old, he’s always been such a dick to you, for no fucking reason. But as the years went by and you guess that as the dick grew bigger, he turned into an even bigger dick than before. There isn’t a day that goes by when we are not trying to kill each other. 

Like how last week Namjoon, the boss in charge of the baddies (aka the 3rd years) made the both of you clean the first year's locker room…. was that a good idea? No. Because we came out of there drenched from head to toe after fucking Yoongi tried to drown you in the hot tub, so you tried to drown him first, and of course, we got punished. You fucking hated everything about him, hated how he always got first in exams/training and you always made second. Hated how he always ruined your uniform, hated that smug fucking look on his face. And fuck, you hated how his exes or little crushes were always on your ass, telling you to stay away from their man and shit. Like bitch, you can fucking have him.

The mission was fairly quick and easy, and you knew Namjoon had to have chosen it. Knowing us that if we had to work together for more than an hour, we would kill each other for sure. To stop that from happening, we separated our mission into separate tasks, Yoongi was to take out the bodyguards who were on the lookout for anything suspicious, surrounding the abandoned book shop like statues. Not knowing that there was a shadow creeping up behind them like a thief in the night. Your job was to kill their boss called Mo, a big old wrinkly guy who ran an illegal organ trafficking business, and who was processing a transaction from two corrupted cops, on top of the shop's semi-slanted rooftop. The shop was just a few buildings down and the abandoned house you were in aided as the perfect hideout. In less than two minutes you had sniped them one by one with your pink bedazzled sniper, watching them fall to the ground like flies with blown-up heads. 

Then the unexpected happened. Before you could set your gun down, you sensed a presence behind you, and just as you turned around you were pushed against the wall by no other than Yoongi. He had splotches of blood on his face, almost making him look like the wings of a ladybug. His eyes clouded with lust and something else you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. You froze, your heart beating fast, as you stared at him confused. And before you could push him away, he kisses you, and you could have sworn you heard fireworks going off behind you. Your eyes close at the softness of his lips, which pull you deeper than any tidal wave. The stench of blood tickling your nose as he wrapped his arms around you. Holding you tight as if you’ll suddenly vanish. You couldn’t explain what you were feeling, but it almost felt as if you were soaring through a sky full of stars. Just as you breathe him in, he pulls away, his face flushed as he touches his lips in shock. Taken aback by his actions, you hear him mutter an apology. But before he could walk away, you pull him back into you. That same afternoon he took your virginity away on that dusty floor, in that abandoned house on top of a skyscraper.

And now you wish you hadn't let him take that one thing away from you----

Cocking your head to the side, you stare at the house, suddenly in awe at its unique beauty. It was a small house, the kind of house you would see in the countryside or by the beach. With vibrant wisteria that cascaded over the flat rooftop and arched window. A few green vines growing out of the bricks here and there. The house we had turned into our escape house, the place where we would go that wasn't our own homes or the agency. The place where all we did was take our pain and anger out on each other by fucking. 

Until it got rather strange and we sort of started to do things as if we were friends. It wasn't the same friendship/relationship like the one you had with Haemi and Mina, but it was okay. We did things, like read together, argue about why blank manga was better than the anime, indulge in ramen, chips, and candy at 3 am without having anyone tell us not to, play Overwatch, shit our pants while playing Amnesia, and binge-watch anime and Disney movies whenever we had the time. 

All our years of hatred for nothing.

With a sigh, you walk to the wooden door and push it open just to take one last look inside before it all turns to dust. The horrible paintings you both had painted still hanging on the wall above the bed. The makeshift bookshelf in the corner of the room was now empty after you came and rescued all the graphic novels and books, not having the heart to burn them. You glance at the two broken bean bag chairs by the window, the ones he had refused to throw away after we popped them during drunk sex. Pushing those memories to the far back of your mind, your eyes land on the black iron bed we got from IKEA, which had to be the best thing in there. It was the place where you always found him sprawled out, snoring with spit and all as he waited for you to get back from your mission. And of course, the bed where you had mind-blowing orgasms. 

Your thumb rolls against the spark wheel of the lighter in one swift motion, pushing down onto the ignition button until a vibrant flame appears. You rest your thumb firmly on the button to keep the flame alive as you rummage through your coat pocket and pull out a white piece of paper. Still not daring to step foot inside, you lean against the door frame and light up a corner of the crumbled paper. Watching as the flames race toward one another, hurrying to consume every inch of the paper. But before that could happen, you fling both the lighter and the paper somewhere inside the room and close the door. 

Moving a few feet back, you grab onto the fire extinguisher you had stolen from the agency last night and wait. A few minutes pass and still nothing...no smoke, no house engulfed in flames. But when you close your eyes you see it, the fiery inferno. The beautiful petals of the wisteria falling to the ground and turning into nothing. You could hear things falling, shattering, and popping from inside, the fire becoming bigger. Dark gray smoke escapes through the crumbling door and shattered window. Embracing you in a death grip, poisoning you slowly until all you see is black. 

“No,” you scream and open your eyes to see the house was still intact, no fire ablaze. Positioning the fire extinguisher on your arm, your feet moving on their own as you push open the door. Your eyes widening when you see that one bean bag was on fire and traveling up the side of the arched window, smoke slowly filling the room. Pulling out the safety pin, you take a hold of the black hose and squeeze down on the lever, aiming at both the bean bag and window. Watching the angry flames die down until there's nothing left, but a disfigured piece of burnt-up nylon and a half black window frame. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and set the fire extinguisher down.

You just couldn’t do it.

Your phone vibrates in your back pocket, and you pull it out, almost dropping it when you see the time--- 8:43 AM. Along with 10 unread messages from both Mina and Haemi, 3 missed calls from your brother, and a notification from Uber Eats saying you had 8 dollars off your next order. 

“Ooh nice I can get a pizza or some---fuck this is not the time for that.. I’m late,” You freak out already seeing Namjoon, Kai, Sora, and Haemi’s dark ominous faces as they cut your eyeball into 8 equal pieces and eat it with some dipping sauce. Fuck, the more you think about it, the more you realize that that is something they would do. You grimace at the taught, wondering why you choose to traumatize yourself like that.

“You're not normal,” the little voice in your head finally shows up to clarify that you're indeed not sane.

 Closing the door behind you, your combat boots are heavy on your feet as you run across the rooftop. Making it to the edge, you look up at the sky seeing that it has now cleared up and turned into a soft blue. A bright yellow sun peeking out from behind a sea of fluffy white clouds. 

Swinging your right leg off the roof, you jump. Watching a distorted image of yourself in the dusty windows of the skyscraper as you free fall. Your hair is flying all over the place, slapping you in the face and getting into your mouth. Until it stays put in a Goku-like hairstyle when he turns into a Super Saiyan. A chuckle escapes your lips at that and you close your eyes, enjoying how the cool breeze feels like gentle kisses against your skin. And just as if it was a natural-born instinct, you swipe your finger against the rim of your heart-shaped Daith, activating your magnetic levitation shoes. Opening your eyes, you grin when you see you were just a few millimeters from the concrete ground. Silently thanking Haemi for being such a genius and making you these for your Bday. Landing successfully, you tap your finger against the rim of your Daith two times to turn it off. 

Wasting no time, you run across the desolate street to where you had parked Kai’s black motorcycle, putting on your helmet you hover over it, zooming out of this ghost town and into emerging traffic hoping to make it to the agency before 9:00 AM.

——

 9:05 AM

You slip through the doors of the main conference room that was always empty except for important days like this one. The room crowded to the point you couldn’t even see the long oval mahogany table in the middle. Chiming your way through you try your best not to bump into your colleagues, knowing how grumpy they usually were in the morning. Your eyes frantically searching for Haemi and Mina, but everyone was wearing the same fucking thing: a black hoodie and black jeans. As if we all had agreed to wear the same outfit today, the night before. A smile creeps onto your lips right as you catch sight of them standing near the front next to Boss. But before you could go any further, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you away.

“Why are you late? The meeting ends in like 5 minutes?... Didn’t I wake you up this morning and tell you to get here before me, Mina even told me she saw you leave around 6... what the fuck took you so long!” Kai scolded you quietly as he bombarded you with questions.

Damn, you spent 4 hours contemplating on burning that fucking house and in the end did nothing.

Kai pulled you to the far back of the room, stopping next to a small table filled with sweet pastries and four boxes of hot coffee. Made of course by the sweetest/deadliest grandmas in the world, aside from the chairwomen. They shouldn't even be in charge of the academy's bakery due to their obsession with poisoning people. 

But no one has died yet...so people like you who enjoy balancing their lives on a thin line instead of making their own coffee and sweets or going into the city to a normal bakery with normal owners who aren't psychopaths. Like some of your semi-sane classmates would do...still nothing could ever beat their rice pancakes topped with edible flowers and honey. In all seriousness, you would die for those. Your mouth waters just at the thought, your stomach begging you to give it something to eat. Reaching over the table, you grab a foam cup just for it to be slapped out of your hands within seconds.

You gasp and turn to your brother ready to kill him watching as he picks up the cup from the ground. Crushing it in his hands as quietly as he could, the squeaky sound making your eye twitch. He signals for you to stand by him and you roll your eyes as you walk two steps and lean on the wall beside him. 

“You know you can’t drink fucking coffee on the days we have missions...especially not today, do you want to be shitting yourself all day?” He questions, his bushy brows furrowed as he crosses his arms across his chest. You stay quiet, not knowing what to say. Of course, you didn't want to shit your pants, but why did he have to do your cup like that, you weren't even going to use it for coffee. You were just going to fill it up with rice pancakes because there weren't any plates or napkins.

  Kai suddenly sniffs your hoodie and you raise an eyebrow, looking at him weirdly. “Why do you smell like smoke?” 

You were about to fidget with your ring but then you realize it wasn't there, “I almost burned a house down,” you tell him blankly. 

He does a double-take, making sure he heard right, “Wait what...you did what, why?”

You shrug him off and before he could keep nagging you; he gets interrupted by Namjoon’s booming voice. Kai looks at you with the look of we’re going to finish this conversation at a later time.

“Ok, I'll see you all at the venue, be on time!” Namjoon shouts and everyone disperses, some leaving while the risk-takers stop by the table to grab a cup of coffee and sweets. 

Some of your friends came up to you and congratulated you and before you could ask them for what they would just leave. And then there was the fucking Juna’s of the class who stared at you with utter hatred, something that wasn’t new to you. But you flipped them off anyway, not understanding the fucking memo. 

“Kai, what are people congratulating me for, what did I do?” You ask as you turn to him, he shrugs and stays quiet, ignoring you. 

You catch sight of Haemi running towards you at full speed and you spread your arms apart, hitting Kai in the face as you do so. You hear him groan as Haemi melts into them. She wraps her arms around your waist and squeezes you tightly. Satisfied at the sound of your bones crushing, she loosens her grip. Her arms now on your shoulder blades as she looks at you quizzically, a frown making its way onto her lips.   

“Why were you late and why didn't you answer our messages... NamNam is fucking angry at you,” She says through clenched teeth as she turns to look at something in the distance, biting onto her lips her face flushes into a bright pink color. You didn't even have to follow her gaze to know that she was staring at Namjoon and fantasizing about her fake dirty relationship with him. You nudge at her arm and she turns to you, now with a mischievous grin.

“y/n my panties are all soaked because of him... oh did I tell you my dildo came in this morning and I named it after him...dude, I fucking squirted all over--” Kai clears his throat making it known that he was right next to us.

“Ay! go away if you don't want to listen, this is some very important info I’m catching y/n on,” Haemi says as she shoos him away with her hand, but he stays put against the wall.

You raise a brow at her, certainly not wanting to hear about how she squirted on her Namjoon dildo. All you wanted to know was why Namjoon was angry at you---

Ah shit, and then it dawns on you... that you missed the 6 am meeting.

“Omg y/n I’m going to kill you for not answering, oh and congrats--” Mina appears with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. Kai puts his arm over her shoulders and whispers something in her ear. She looks at you for a split second and then nods. 

Before you could ask her why she was congratulating you, Namjoon’s voice rips through the air again. “Y/n and Yoongi, can you both come here now,” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as this could only mean one of two things. We were in trouble—which couldn't be right because we haven't seen or talked to each other for 4 weeks. Then it could only mean—- that he was going to assign us to work together in today’s mission.

“Well, I guess we'll see you at the venue,” Kai says. Haemi squeezes your shoulder and with a wink she lets you go. You watch them walk away, wanting to tell them not to leave you. 

With a sigh, you turn on your heel and walk towards Namjoon who is now sitting at the end of the oval table. His head is down, his fingers drumming loudly on top of his black manila folder. The room was empty now, as the voices from outside became less and less. 

Your eyes search the dim-lit room for Yoongi, but you don't see him and you feel a little better. Namjoon clears his throat and your eyes land back on him. Without looking at you, he signals you to stand by him. You do as he says, seeing a hooded Yoongi appear from the shadows and stand next to you. 

“Awe fuck,” you groan in your head.

“Why were the both of you late today when I clearly said to be here at 6 am before the meeting started,” He says, his voice strict and eerily low. 

You say nothing and neither does Yoongi. Namjoon stops drumming his fingers and leans back against the chair, resting his arm on either side. He moves robotically in slow technical movements until his face is facing forward, his eyes locking onto yours. With a gaze of a snake, waiting for you to say the wrong thing to snap. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out, unsure of what to say when it was your fault for forgetting about the meeting. 

“I was busy,” Yoongi announces in a rather bored tone.

Namjoon taps his finger again, now against the armchair, the taps sounding softer than the rigid ones on the table. 

“Hmm, what were you busy with… little brother? was it with the girl Jimin told me you had over...Keep messing around and I’ll tell father to teach you a lesson.” Namjoon snapped.

You feel a stinging pain in your heart, but you try your best to ignore it. Yoongi says nothing but shrugs.

“What’s your excuse,” He asks you now.

“I burned a house down,” You lied wanting to get a reaction out of him but got nothing. He just stood there, his face hidden by his black hoodie, unbothered. 

“Why?... instead of getting your ass here on time, you decide to do that. You know what if the both of you pull this shit again, to the basement it is,” 

A chill runs down your spine and you focus on the piece of paper that was stuck under the wheels of his chair.

“You both are getting married...with each other,” he exclaims. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, almost as if he was about to smile, but he doesn't.

You choke on your spit and cough loudly, staring at Namjoon as if he has lost his mind. Ah, this was what they were congratulating you for, for this shit.

“You have to be fucking kidding,” Yoongi shouts, and you could hear the anger in his voice. 

“What? This is perfect... I've seen that you guys have stopped fighting for a while now, so this will be easy peasy,” 

You shake your head no, that he's got it all wrong.

“Anyway, remember the bride and the groom I made each of you study for these past few weeks...You guys are going to be them.”

“What! but isn't there already a groom and a bride?” you ask, thinking back to your notes, pretty sure that there was a bride and a groom already.

“Ah, about that… If you both would have come on time, we would have more time to discuss...But long story short, we killed them off because it was just going to complicate stuff. Plus, you both kinda look like them and with the power of makeup those old fucks won’t even know the difference,” 

Your mouth drops, taken back by the subtlety in his voice. Why the fuck would they kill them when the plan was to kill them at the wedding. The sound of a clap brings you out of your thoughts.

 Namjoon is now standing, Manila folder in hand as he looks inside it, humming an upbeat tune.

“I don’t want to fucking marry this asshole!” 

“I don’t want to fucking marry you either!” he fires back.

“Silence, it’s fucking fake you both are acting as if this was real... it’s not. By afternoon tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.” 

You look at the sparkly marble floor, pressing your lips into a tight line.

“Before you both leave to get dressed, I want to say a few things… you both know how each of them acted towards each other, I even made you both a list of the things I need to see happen at the wedding which will be in your rooms. You both can study your vows while they do your makeup or in the car… Yoongi as the boy you studied remember that he is possessive, he is crazy about his woman and all that toxic bullshit which I’m sure you’re good at….Oh and one last thing, the bride’s father is a creep and is going to come and check the morning of after you guys fake sex or you can-“

“No,” you both shout in unison, and Namjoon looks at you guys weirdly. 

“Chill I was just going to say to drip a bit of fake blood on the bed that will be in the room already. So that when he comes in with his wife to see you know what to do… well, take care of the rest,”

“Don’t disappoint...have fun, enjoy the 1-day honeymoon, and sorry I didn’t tell you both sooner.  I just didn’t want the both of you to kill each other before the wedding...now get the fuck out,” he said with a crooked smile, falling back onto the chair as he pointed at the door.

[volganic]

Song of the Mountain

i really cant help myself from writing everything out all at once tbh but liz is really such a great motivator 🙏

[part 1]

Volga had only ever eaten the people that were foolish enough to fall prey to his voice.  The disorientation of the blazing heat combined with panic of being lost in a literal hellhole made it all too easy to capture wandering travelers.  Needless to say he had built a reputation for it and anyone with a lick of common sense would know to stay away from within the caves if they had managed to sneak past his kin -- but that still didn't stop those who were brave or just plain stupid.

This boy was not stupid.  Not at first glance anyway.

The dragon knight took three long strides toward the green clad hero, blatantly ignoring the tip of the sword pointed right at him.  Despite the look on his intruder's face, Volga could see that the white blade was shaking in his hold.  He pulled Link closer to him by the base of the blade with a clawed gauntlet, nonplussed by the fact that he allowed himself to pulled in with him.  A gasp left the hero's lips as he lost his footing for a second before he was unceremoniously knocked onto his back with a heavy kick, now left unarmed with his blade tossed to the side and out of reach.  

Volga towered over the boy as he scrambled to pull his shield over himself.  He dropped an armored foot on the center of the polished steel, effectively pinning him into place.  Link hissed at the immense pressure put on his arm and midsection, silenced by the tip of his spear pointed between his eyes.  The heat had seeped back into him as he began to sweat bullets in fear for his life with being taken down so easily and under the dragon's scrutinizing gaze. He could hear how his breathing had quickened as he looked between Volga's unreadable features and the end of the spear.

Another startled gasp was ripped out of his throat when Volga's claws caught his chin, armor sizzling hot against his skin.  He squeezed his eyes shut half expecting the victor to crush his jaw or mercilessly kill him.  That's what dragons do, right?  Even with his eyes shut, he could feel Volga's stare boring right into the center of his soul.  He laid stiff in his hold as his head was turned from one cheek to the other.

"You are truly the hero reborn," Volga purred when the boy finally opened his eyes.  Clawed fingers slipped underneath Link's lips, prying his mouth open with protest.  "With no bite, and even less teeth it seems," he chuckled as he pulled his fingers away, ignoring the coughing that followed.  "You are foolish to think that you could have taken me down without so much as anything to shield you from this heat, boy.  You have not listened to the fables well enough."

Link took a deep breath of relief as he was freed from under the weight of Volga's foot and spearhead no longer pointed in his direction. The sound of the other's footsteps retreating gave him the moment he needed to collect himself.  His lungs burned with strain and the back of his head met with the ground, cap tossed and forgotten.  A million questions were running through his mind:  Why was he spared?  Why didn't the dragon kill him when he had easily taken his chance?  Why, goddesses, why didn't he bring anything to protect him from fire?  He was coming after a dragon for goodness sake!  The goddesses were cruel for giving him this so-called blessing -- were they testing him?

He barely could sit up before a piece of heavy fabric hit him in the face.  He pulled it down and held it out at arm's length with an incredulous expression.  Volga snorted as he came back into Link's line of sight.  "If you have half the brain I expected the hero reborn to have, I would suggest you put it on.  It will keep you save from the fires," he said flatly, mirroring the scowl that Link was giving him.  "I dare not fight against someone who is ill-equipped; I have a code of honor that I choose to live by, whether you so choose to believe it or not."

So that's why.  Link held his stare at the dragon for a minute longer before he slowly nodded his head in thanks, looking back down at the tunic he was given; ruby in color and very similar to his own.  Volga took a seat to study the hero in silence, watching him as he stood up and worked in shrugging off the shoulder guard and scarf to peel off the green tunic from his body.  How he managed to survive this long in the Eldin Caves with little to no protection from its severe temperatures was admirable, but still foolish as he eyed the stains of sweat underneath the layer of chain mail.

"Why is it that you have come to challenge me, boy?" he asked, rising to pick up the abandoned blade.  He rolled the hilt in his claws, seemingly unimpressed.  "You are ill-equipped, inexperienced, dehydrated, and armed with nothing but a poor excuse of a sword.  This is a step-up from a simple soldier's sword, but a pitiful sword nonetheless.  What did you expect to achieve?"

Link threw him a cold glare in response as his fingers smoothed out the red tunic.  He brought his hands up to begin signing.  "I've been sent by the princess to investigate your intentions. What are your underlings doing attacking the villages below the mountain?  Your 'code' wouldn't allow you to attack the helpless, so why are you killing them?  What good are you doing them?"

"I am neither good nor evil," he snarled.  "I am not killing them, nor am I sending my fellow kin to attack them.  I have yet to be brought back a corpse from anything other than livestock.  Contrary to the fairy tales, I choose not to eat humans."  Volga stepped closer to offer the blade back to its owner.  "I am Volga, guardian of the Eldin Caves and Death Mountain, and alike the villagers, I too am a victim of an attack.  I have no choice but to make sure that my kin are safe, so they in turn can keep those fools occupying the villages below safe."

The hero strapped his blade back into place with a confused tilt of his head.  The dragon was being attacked?  "How so?  Attacking villages doesn't sound like you're keeping them safe.  Who is attacking you?"

"A witch."  Volga's features darkened as the words left his mouth, a foul taste on his tongue.  "She seeks to start a war with my assistance.  I have no interest in partaking in any war and declined her offer.  She was no match for my army and retreated, but not before taking out our source of food.  A poor tactic, but effective enough when it comes to having an army that relies on it strength in numbers.  Ravenous reptiles are difficult to lead when they are starving."  The knight dug underneath one of the straps around his chest plate, brandishing a silver ring with a large blue jewel.  "I am also inclined to believe she was after this ring.  Without it, there is no start to any war."

Volga drew Link's attention away from the cursed artifact by curling his claws around it tightly.  "Its new home will soon be the pit of lava at the peak of Death Mountain.  The fires are hot enough to expel whatever curse this ring holds."  There's a moment of pause before the knight folded his arms across his chest.  "If there is nothing else you need, then leave my domain."

"Your people are still attacking villages!" the hero signed, unsatisfied with the idea of leaving the caves with unfinished business.  "You need to tell them to fall back and leave.  The people are struggling prior to your forces coming in and invading their homes."  Link chose his next words carefully.  He couldn't risk starting a war of his own, especially in the middle of a cave that nearly killed him.  "Perhaps if I talked with the princess, we could come to an agreement--"

"My allegiance cannot, and will not be bought."  A low rumble worked its way out of Volga's chest to make his point clear.  "I protect nothing more and nothing less than my own kin and those who know their place.  Your princess has nothing I desire.  I have no quarrel with your army.  Leave."

"Not until I know that the people below your mountain are safe!  They know their place, and is it not your duty to protect them?"  Arguing with a force such as Volga was starting to wear him down; fighting him in a duel of arms would have been easier than this.  "If this continues, then the Hyrulean army will be forced to step in.  We do not want to go to war with you."

The tension in the air was nearly suffocating.  The hero wasn't burning to the temperature in the caves, but the malicious glare the taller knight was giving him would have killed any lesser man in fear.  He knew he couldn't return to the castle with news that their neighboring villages were soon to be destroyed.  He also knew Volga had no interest in fighting a war.  Determination kept him in place as he mirrored Volga's posture.  

After an eternity of silence than the faint sound of scratching echoing off the walls (were the dinolfos back?), the dragon knight relented with a long exhale.  If Link knew any better, he would've sworn it looked like smoke.  "Very well. My kin will retreat.  With the amount of livestock they have collected, perhaps we could survive until the next full moon.  Our sources should be replenished by then."

Link blinked a few times in disbelief to make sure he had understood him correctly.  When the dragon relaxed his posture in defeat, the hero beamed.  "As a show of good faith, we will call them back immediately."  

"We?"

A garbled noise left the Hylian's throat as a searing heat cut through the air near him.  He was mostly unharmed thanks to the tunic, but it didn't hide the absolute surprise in his eyes as a fully grown dragon now took place where the man he had clashed with had stood.  This... this confirmed the stories.  The dragon could take tongue of man -- it could also take on the form of one too!  It towered over him as Link stood frozen in place, at a loss for words.  It was a real dragon!

He was pulled out of his thoughts as the reptile plucked him off his feet by the back of the tunic with its beak.  There was no time to protest or scramble out of the caught clothing before they took flight out of the crystal caverns.  Link braced himself and pulled his limbs as close to himself as he could as the dragon weaved between the tight tunnels. The wind and few stray pebbles of stone lashed at his skin.  The wave of blues and oranges that creeped on the ends of his vision soon turned dark, prompting Link to finally open his eyes.  They were no longer inside the caves but now they were airborne in the night sky, soaring up the steep mountainside of Death Mountain.  

Volga must still hold some spite against him for having his ego challenged as the dragon held him closer and closer to the ground, threatening to scrape his body against the rock.  Link would have to remember not to do that again.  The pair reached the peak as quickly as they had taken flight.  Volga released his grip on the hero's clothing and dropped him unceremoniously on the flat rocks as he lowered himself down to the ground, slowly the flap of his large wings.  Link stood up in a huff and glowered at the dragon.  He looked awfully smug underneath his silver helmet as he turned to peer over the edge of the cliff to the villages below.

Link barely had time to brace himself before the ear-piercing screech shook the top of the mountaintop they occupied.  Volga's claws ripped through the earth underneath him as fire threatened to spill from his gaping maw.  The roar was enough to silence the entire province, if not even the entirety of the world.  He wasn't sure when the sound had ended, ears left abuzz from the deafening cry.  Volga had nudge him with the tip of his snout to bring his attention back to over the mountainside.  To his surprise, he saw flocks of shadowy figures scurrying back to the entrance of the Eldin Caves.  

A small laugh left his lips.  He did it.  The villages were spared, and he proved himself that he was capable of taking on an impossible mission.  A smile splayed across his lips as he turned to look at Volga, finding him occupied with digging with the odd chain around the base of his neck.  The glint of a certain blue jewel between the dragon's teeth reminded him that this was their declaration at peace.  The Hylian cautiously approached when he was acknowledged to come forward.  He held his palm open, gifted with the honor of tossing the cursed artifact into the pit of magma behind them.  

With no time to second guess his options, Link tossed the ring into the bubbling lava, satisfied with the splash it made.  The pool sizzled where the ring was thrown and exhausted a plume of purple smoke.  Volga hissed lowly in approval; the fires indeed have exiled the curse of the ring, reducing it to metal.  With some hesitation, Link warily placed the palm of his hand against the side of the dragon's snout, nodding in a small thanks.  The dragon snorted at the gesture, pulling away quickly before making quick work to pick the boy up again.  If this was his way of saying "you're welcome", Link would have kept his appreciation to himself he thought as they made their way back down to the mountain.

At least this time, they weren't flying.

---

"The villages haven't seen any sign of any lizalfos or dinolfos for some time since you've returned," the Sheikah commented, clapping the hero's back.  "Well done."

Link frowned as he brushed the dirt off his face.  It had taken him a full day's journey to return to the castle from the caves, and he still looked less than polished with leaves in his hair and mud staining his red tunic.  Good word had spread among the soldiers, their morale having gone through the roof knowing that the dragon was no threat.

Zelda nodded in agreement with Impa, but her smile died on her lips.  Her expression hardened.  "Please, go on.  What is this about a witch?"

The hero sighed heavily.  He brought his hands up to sign, but was interrupted by the familiar chime of his fairy.

"Let him rest!  Surely he's deserved it, no?"

Link gave a stiff nod before acknowledging the general.  

"Next time, send a negotiator.  Diplomacy isn't my thing."

[helplessly-nonstop]

The Call of A Nephilim’s Heart(Ricochet imagine)

Surprise motherfuckers, ya bitch is alive and not so well but I have a fic for you and my addition to @hardcorewwetrash’s Supernatural Summer Challenge! I chose a Nephilim as the creature and my prompt was, “All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.”

Warnings: bad words(it’s a given in my fics, c’mon), little bit of angst, no smut this time, use of my OFC, Kyla Nightingale, who is a witch(in this fic!)

WC: 4629 words

I settled against the edge of the rooftop, staring at the city buzzing below my feet. New Orleans was a dangerous place to be, especially considering what I was. This city was known for its “magic elements” but little did most know, it was one of the most lively places for the supernatural. I was a young witch and I had very dangerous spells memorized to keep myself and others safe from the actual monsters roaming around.

I heard the flutter of wings behind me but I didn’t dare turn to face him. He was an anticipated guest of mine and as soon as he decided on what he was going to do, I would turn to him.

“Kyla.” I stiffened at the sound of his voice then came to a slow stand, my hands trembling with the magic flowing back and forth.

“Trevor, this really is not a good time.” I informed him, turning to face him with narrowed eyes. Damn him and his fucking allure. He sighed, eyes flickering back between my hands and my mismatched irises then said,”I don’t want to hurt you.” My tongue peeked out at his statement and he mimicked the motion as I stated, “Then don’t. Let me live, let me do what I’m supposed to.”

“I can’t. You know I can't, you know too much.” I sighed, the purple and blue sparks beginning to rise from my fingertips, then murmured, “Take the final warning or don’t, it’s up to you.” He gave a sigh, hanging his head briefly, then when he looked up again, his brown eyes were now an intense emerald.

“Ricochet, take your chance now and leave.” I warned, the sparks now growing into a small ball of fire that shared a purple, bluish hue to it. He stepped forward and outstretched his wings, the gold of his feathers casting a glow over his already beautiful face. Too bad he wants to kill me. I stomped my left foot down against the rooftop and flames engulfed his frame, allowing me to make my escape with a wave of my hand.

I trudged into my apartment then kicked off my wedges, untangling my now singed hair from the braid. My roommate’s door opened and out came Aleister, his hair tied back in a low ponytail as he asked,”What in Gods’ Hell did you run into tonight, Kyla?” I gave an annoyed glare and replied,”I’ll give you three guesses, the first two don’t count.”

“Ricochet? Trying to ‘kill you’ again, I’m guessing? When will that Nephilim finally accept the fact that you’re his soulmate?” he questioned, settling beside me on the couch as I inspected the damage I had brought upon my beautiful hair. I nodded then asked, “I don’t know, hopefully soon. Hey, do we have any scissors so I can cut my hair?” He pursed his lips, clearly trying to remember if we did, then he snapped his fingers together, the object appearing in the palm of his hand as he replied, “Here’s a thought. Go get a shower and I’ll cut it however you would like.”

I groaned, annoyed that he was making me get up when I just sat down but came to a stand nonetheless.

Once I finished my shower, I stared into the mirror, examining my appearance. Mismatched eyes, one green, one brown with black hair that reached the middle of my back. I wasn’t ugly but I certainly didn’t exceed the one to ten scale. Freckles were splayed against my cheeks and I leaned against the counter, realizing that my height was both a curse and a blessing in disguise. I stood a solid 4’11 so I always wore heels when I had the chance.

“Kyla, come on, I would like to go to bed soon.” Aleister called in the bathroom. I entered his room and settled at the foot of his bed, instructing,”Cut it up to my chin and give me bangs.” He nodded in understanding and snip snip snip went the scissors, the black locks falling around my shoulders and onto his duvet.

Within ten minutes, he had my hair cut and even all the way around. Aleister brushed my now short hair then cleared the strands off his bed into the small trash can that he keeps beside the foot of the mattress, stating, “Alright, go get some sleep. You’ve had a long night.”

I nodded in understanding and walked into my room, flopping onto my bed face first without a care in the world. I gave a sigh and curled under my blanket, wrapping an arm around my pillow as I mumbled under my breath, “Gods, I hope tomorrow is better.”

Morning rolled around and apparently while I was sleeping, Aleister had snuck in to plug up my phone. I rolled over and clicked on the screen, reading a message that my friend, Seth, had sent me, Hey, kid, I’ve got an important meeting, can you come watch over the shop? Drew and Bex is there, but ya know how they are. Seth ran his very own café and whenever he needed someone to monitor his shop, he would text me.

“Sure, be there in ten.” I allowed myself a little more time to get ready, fixing a bow into my hair, then walked out into the kitchen, immediately taking notice of the note that my best friend left for me: Be home later, had to go out with a friend. I hummed and tapped the letter before taking my leave out the door.

I ended up walking down to the café and entered the shop, nodding at Seth’s boyfriend, Drew, who was running the bar with their girlfriend, Becky.

Both were demons, equally as evil as the other happens to be. I approached the bar and the red headed woman slid me a mocha coffee with three shots of espresso, across the counter. I nodded in thanks then settled in the corner that I always sat in. It was a vantage point and I hate to have people sitting behind me. Some may call it paranoia, but it is what it is. It was right beside the window, which made it all the more better.

I sipped my drink then began working on my crime rate report. I was the resident detective that wasn’t on the station’s public payroll and the way that I dealt with certain criminals wasn’t exactly what someone might call… ethical.

Someone pulled the chair out from across me then they settled down. I didn’t look up, it was pointless.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re so damn polite for a Nephilim? Your kind is fucking abrasive normally.” I commented, closing my laptop lid, leaning my chin against my propped up hand. A smile danced across his pretty mouth briefly then he replied,”I have been told that quite a few times, thank you. Would you like me to be a bit more abrasive?”

“Maybe it would ease our sexual tension and make things a bit fucking easier on you when you finally fucking kill me.” I replied, taking a drink of my coffee. He laughed then questioned, ”Is that all you do is curse?”

“Please. All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.” I chirped, taking another drink. He rolled his eyes and replied, “I think we should step outside, Kyla.” I stared at him for a moment, gauging to see if he was serious, then fisted the front of his shirt, dragging him to his feet. Internally, I knew that he went willingly, but the satisfaction of having a Nephilim- my Nephilim- in my clutch made my magic sing with delight.

“Why, Pretty Boy, you finally gonna fuck my brains out?” He stared at me blankly and replied monotonously, “I think it’s best that you go willingly so I don’t have to kill you in front of all your friends.” I licked my lips and finished off my coffee before saying,”Let’s do a head count here, Trevor, and see if this changes your mind.”

“There are two demons running the bar, three werewolves, five vamps, a fairy, and two sirens, not to mention the monsters in the back of the store. Take me back to my place, I’ll put a sock on the door, and make sure that Aleister won’t come in. Accept the fact that we’re soulmates and you can finally fuck me.”

Ricochet fidgeted with his fingers. He was a good soldier, loyal to his Gods but I could see the way he fought with himself, debating on if it was worth it- disobeying direct orders to kill his soulmate.

“Don’t do this to yourself- to me. Accept me and leave your legion, they won’t bat an eyelash at your disappearance. You’re just another foot soldier to them, Ricochet, so why are you even considering this?”

“I know. You think I don’t know this? I have been killing myself over this decision, on whether I should follow my orders to kill you. Do you think I actually want to kill the woman who, every time I see her, no matter what she’s wearing, I want to press her against the closest surface and fuck her until the two of us can’t move? Trust me, this isn’t easy for me, so get that outta your head.”

Becky approached our table with a new coffee for me in hand then she set it down, asking calmly, “Ricochet, could I interest ya in a cuppa something? Might calm ya nerves so I don’t have ta kick ya asses outta shop.” Still burning holes through my soul, he said nonchalantly, “A water would be fine, thank you.”

She turned on her heel then approached Drew and half of the café’s attendees who had gathered around the bar to watch my soulmate and I’s showdown. I stared at him then stated, “Let’s go to my house and settle this, Trevor.”

He glanced over at the crowd watching us then he snapped, eyes glowing emerald, “What the fuck do you think you’re looking at?!” They dispersed at his exclamation then he wrapped his hand around my wrist, practically dragging me from the coffee shop, Drew already on the phone with Seth to let him know what the hell happened.

I dug my heels into the sidewalk then snapped, “I am not walking in that fucking rain, you are out of your goddamn mind.” Finally he took notice of the storm that had fallen upon the city then he narrowed his eyes at me, demanding, “Did you do this, is this your doing?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes, then replied,”I knew I was going to be walking home, there is no way in hell that I would have brought this.”

He pulled me along then glanced up, informing me, “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” I followed his gaze and realized that his wings were out, acting as our umbrella. I gave an impressed look and he wrapped an arm around my waist, fingers brushing the skin that was exposed in our little scuttle. I shivered at his touch then he glanced down at me, concern fleeting across his face as I did then I assured him, “Cold chill, I’m fine. Let’s just get out of this rain.”

Ricochet nodded in agreement then we turned the corner to my house, the rain suddenly picking up as we raced to dart underneath the awning of the entrance. His wings began to fold back in then I slid a hand at the base of them, his entire body stiffening as I asked,”Are they sensitive?”

“Extremely.”he gritted out, eyes glued to my own. I allowed my fingers to delve a little deeper into the feathers, a sigh escaping his mouth and I asked,”Good or bad?” He groaned and admitted, “That all depends.”

“On what exactly?”

“On whether you’re somebody other than my soulmate.” I let out a small laugh and walked into the elevator, leaving him standing around. He joined me in the small space then pressed the button for my floor. I raised an eyebrow at the fact that he knew which floor I lived on then he replied, “Don’t look so surprised, you’re my soulmate. Why wouldn’t I know where you live?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that nearly every time I’ve run into you, you threaten or even try to kill me? I mean, that does put a bit of a tamper on our relationships, Trevor.” He sighed and stated,”You’re really gonna keep that against me, huh?”

“You tried to kill me on multiple accounts! Of course I’m going to hold it against you, you stupid fucking Nephilim.” With a blink of the eye, he had me pressed against the elevator wall with his fingers wrapped around my hip as he snarled, “I hate that dirty mouth.”

“Funny, all of the men and women who I’ve slept with compliment me on how filthy my mouth gets. Too bad for you, buttercup, you’re missing out.” He let out a growl, clearly annoyed at my statement and for a moment, I thought he was just going to turn around and face the doors of the elevator, only for him to do the exact opposite: he crushed me into a kiss, tongue pressing in.

Mint from his gum swarmed my mind and I gasped with delight as he tangled a hand through my hair, tugging back as he snarled, “You mention another person enjoying your pretty mouth and I’ll make sure that you won’t do it again.”

“Oh jealous are we? In that case, I should probably tell you about the time when Aleister finally agreed to-“

“Not another fucking word. I swear to all the gods in the sky, if you tell me that you’ve slept with that fucking warlock, I am going to end his pathetic life.” He turned back to face the elevator doors and I grabbed his wrist, tugging him back to me with a laugh, reassuring him, “Chill out, jealous ass, I was only teasing you. Aleister is ace and even if he did like sex, he’s not my type. My type is more towards the pretty boy Nephilims with a beard and good manners.”

“Sounds like you have your eyes set on someone. Do I know him?” Ricochet questioned, tangling my fingers with his own as he led me out of the elevator. Oh we’re getting somewhere? My tongue peeked out and he mocked the motion as I replied, “You do actually. Nice guy, very easy on the eyes. But you know, he keeps pulling some fuckery that I’m really not into.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible. I hope that he gains some sense then.” he remarked and I glanced down at my watch, swiping up briefly to check my notifications, then replied, “So do I.” I slid my key in and unlocked the door before pushing the door open, letting Ricochet step inside. I followed him in and shut the door behind me, watching as Aleister appeared from the darkness, his arms winding around my soulmate’s neck.

“W-What the fuck is this?” Trevor choked out, clawing at the warlock’s arms. I sighed and grabbed my already packed bags then stated, “I didn’t want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice, Trevor. I knew you came with me to kill me so I’m going to disappear for a while. I can’t have a Nephilim who just so happens to be my soulmate following me around trying to kill me. It’s kind of a personal thing, but more of a, ‘Hey I really don’t want to die.’ sort of thing.”

Ricochet gritted his teeth together then he growled, “I will find you, Kyla. And when I do, there will be hell to pay.” I pressed my lips together tightly to form a small smile then replied, “And that’s why I had Aleister scrounge up an old spell to use on you. Aleister, you’re welcome to go ahead.”

The dark haired man nodded at me then began reciting the spell, “Soulmates they are, soulmates they will be. Together forever, never apart they should be. Hide the one until the other is ready. From this day forth, she will be hidden until he is ready.” As soon as he finished speaking, he released Ricochet and the two of us disappeared from sight, taking our luggage with us and Trevor roared after us, “Kyla, don’t!”

The initial move started with us in New York City, a hot spot for humans who accepted the supernatural with open arms. It was, after all, a plan where dreams came true so me being the cliche that most people know and love, I went there, hoping that Trevor would come to his senses soon.

But alas, it was a bust and we quickly moved to the Netherlands, enjoying the completely new scenery that the beautiful country offered the two of us. Aleister was, after all, born and raised there so it was particularly nice for him to be back to his roots. It was refreshing for the two of us; however, we were ready for a change not long after moving to the UK.

The next place that we moved to was Egypt, somewhere that I had always wanted to live. It was a wonderful culture with so much to learn and it was a fantastic learning experience overall. But eventually our wanderlust had died out a bit and homesickness for the United States hit like a train wreck one night after I spent nearly all day drinking our liquor cabinet.

“I just don’t understand! If-If he really loves me, why won’t he just accept that we’re soulmates, that we can finally be together without him trying to murder me every step of the way!?” I sobbed, pouring another shot of vodka, only for Aleister to swipe the bottle away from me, stating, “Alright, that’s enough for you, Kyla.”

“That’s what he used to call me!” I wailed, tears streaking my face. He blinked slowly at him then remarked in the most unamused voice possible, “That’s because that’s your name, dumbass.” The morning after was a bit humiliating because our mutual friend, Ali was recording the entire thing and he decided that I needed a reminder of what kind of a weepy monster that I turned into while drinking.

We returned to the States and moved to New Orleans once again, deciding that it was a nice neutral ground. Seven months had passed over the time that we traveled and I hadn’t seen Ricochet at all and I accounted it as him either still not ready to accept me or his legion actually did give a shit about him and decided that he wasn’t leaving.

“Hey, do you mind closing the bar tonight? I have a hot date.” Sonya questioned, wiping down the bar top as I poured shots at an almost inhuman speed. I glanced over my shoulder with a grin, stating, “As long as you’re going on this hot date with Paige. You two are killing me with the whole, ‘Let’s avoid my soulmate.’bit that you have been playing at.”

She laughed and stated, “Oh look who’s talking, Miss I had my best friend cast on a spell on my hot Nephilim soulmate who just so happens to be the man who was selected to murder me.” I let out a laugh then said, “Yea, thank you for that reminder. If I ever decide to change my last name, I definitely won’t consider that as an option.”

Sonya shrugged and disappeared into the crowd towards the time clock, leaving me to handle the few stragglers left in the bar. I flicked my wrist downwards to check the time then realized that it was time to close up and I thankfully didn’t have to kick out anybody who had missed last call.

I was fixing the liquor shelves and restocking the beer cooler when I heard the jingle of the door opening.

“Sorry, buddy, we’re closed but come back tomorrow!” I threw over my shoulder then I heard the squeal of a bar stool scooting out so I turned on my heel, prepared to give the person a piece of my mind, only to freeze. There, sitting in front of me, was Ricochet, two buttons of his shirt loose, revealing the start of his tattoos on either side.

He came to a slow stand and I just stared at him. His beard was longer, his eyes just a bit darker and he had a busted lip. I flicked my tongue out to lick my lips then murmured, “Hi.” He let out a scoff and leaped across the bar with ease, backing me into the shelves.

“Hi? That’s all you have to say to me after you had your asshole of a best friend cast a spell on me is hi?”he spat, shifting to press me into the bar top. I gave a small smile then offered up, “You look hot?”

He closed in on me as he hissed out, “Are you aware of what I have endured in the last seven months while you’ve been la-dee-dahing your way across the world with Aleister?”

“No, but I have a feeling that you’re about to go all flashback on me so if you could, at least let me sit down to listen comfortably.” I said. He scoffed and scooped me up, settling me back down on the bar top as he began to spin the tale of what he suffered while I was hiding away.

Ricochet’s Point of View:

In the blink of an eye, they were gone and I smashed into the ground, my forearms just barely saving my face from greeting the floor. I groaned and rolled onto my back as a scream made its way from my throat, rolling forward to land on my feet.

“Shit… shit, shit!” I shouted, smashing my fists into the walls as realization began to set in. Kyla was gone. And thanks to that fucking warlock, I wouldn’t see her until I figured out what I truly wanted. I turned away from the damage that I caused then ran a hand over my head, grumbling to myself. What was I going to do now?

A week had passed and the Council had finally figured out just how badly I fucked up this situation.

“Come forth, Ricochet, and speak your truth.” Bray called out, waving me forward. I hung my head and groaned internally, dragging my feet as I approached the council of the seven intimidating deities. Bray sat in the middle with Alexa, Luke, and Ember to his left and Zelina, Karl, and Jeff to his right.

“I-I honestly have no idea on how this happened, truly!” I began, only for Alexa to snip, “Oh really? And here we were thinking that you let that little witch and warlock go free.” Jeff rolled his eyes and replied, “Go elsewhere with your ninety cent bullshit, Alexa, we’re here to discuss the situation and how we should handle it according to the circumstances.”

“I am surprisingly with the Enigma on this one. Ricochet, what say you on your behalf?” Zelina questioned, leaning forward on her perfectly manicured hands. I sighed and slid down in my seat as I began to explain what all happened just a week ago and when I finished speaking, the Council stared at me with obvious mixed emotions.

“So what you’re tellin’ us, is that you managed to get lured back to her apartment, get captured by a warlock of all things to be caught by, then a few words in English and bam! You can’t find your soulmate, who’s also your possible future murder victim?” Ember asked, blinking slowly at me. I hung my head and admitted in a small voice, “Unfortunately yes, Goddess,that is exactly what I am telling you.” They stared at me for a few moments, not saying anything in response to my story, then they burst into laughter, shaking their heads.

“You, a Nephilim, was bested by a witch and warlock? Pathetic.” Luke spat, rolling his eyes. I began to speak up for myself, only for Karl to cut me off, “We should strip him of his wings right now. He is a disgrace to this world.”

“Luke, please act sensible. He’s but a mere boy. Doesn’t have as much as knowledge as we do.” Bray murmured, stroking his beard.

“Not to mention the fact that it was his soulmate that he was dealing with. I mean, that’s difficult to do on a regular basis but he was trying to bait her into his trick so he could kill her. That’s a tough situation.” Jeff chimed in, giving me a nod of acknowledgement.

I gave him a thankful smile then Alexa commented, “I think he’s blindsided by her and he won’t be able to finish the job.” Bray hummed at her addition and stated, “It’s possible… Ricochet, do you think you would be able to kill your soulmate, Kyla Nightingale?” I paused at his question, and thought about it. Would I be able to kill the love of my life, the only person that I would actually be able to love in life?

“No… no, he wouldn’t be able to. As much as he wants to please us, he doesn’t believe that she’s a danger to the world.” Zelina said, tapping her nails on the table top, as if she was passing the conversation down to Jeff.

“Well, it’s not like we know for sure that she knows the spells that we think she knows. For all we know, she has the book hidden away with Aleister guarding it. And she had so much power, really, it’d be a shame to kill her.” Jeff commented offhandedly, but his eyes spoke his truth: it was wrong to kill Kyla because of a suspicion.

“I suppose we could just not kill her. Let our dear Ricochet go back to his lovely, he could make sure she wouldn’t use that mysterious magic of hers. But of course, we do need to reprimand him for failing to kill her.”

“Strip me of my wings. Not literally, but take my standing. Make an example of me.” I suggested and confusion spread across the deities’ faces. They obviously were surprised to hear my option then Luke chimed in, “Let’s do it and call it a night.”

Kyla’s Point of View:

“They… they stripped you of your status?” I murmured, cupping his cheeks. He gave a tight smile and replied, “Yeah, I wanted to live, but they needed to make an example of me. I did it for you.”

“Trevor, you gave up your status of a high ranking Nephilim and for what? For a witch who’s caused you nothing but misery every step of the way?” He cupped my cheeks and pulled me closer, stating, “No… I didn’t do it for a witch. I did it for my soulmate. I love you, Kyla. You may not believe me now, you may not believe me a month down the road. But I do and I would do anything for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to throw your entire life away just for me.” I stated, circling my hands around his wrists. He smiled and murmured, “I’m not. I’m making my life better by having you in it. Can’t you see that?”

I laughed softly then replied, “Someone has been reading a whole lot of romance novels while I’ve been fucking gone.”

“God, I hate that dirty mouth.”he groaned, pulling me into a kiss. I smirked into his lips and replied, “But you love me so it’s fine!”

[searchingwardrobes]

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter Three

So, this story was originally a two-shot, but multiple people wanted more. Especially @kmomof4 and you all know how hard it is to say no to Krystal! The thing is, when I started working on part three, the possibilities for this fic just overtook me. Every character's storyline is vastly different if Emma already believes, Killian is already a hero, and the two of them are already married and confirmed true love. This chapter focuses on Snowing's reaction to Emma's life, but future chapters will give (I hope) cool canon divergent plots to Regina, Rumple, Neal, etc. So I'm really excited about where this could go!

If you want to catch up on chapters one and two they are here on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13182915/chapters/30153435

Chapter Three: After the Clock Strikes

The late winter sun shines brightly on the snow drifts along the streets of Storybrooke, Maine. Mary Margaret Blanchard squints in the glare, pushing her hands deeper into the pockets of her pea coat. Just like the sun is merely a tease of the spring that is still so far off, life has once again teased Mary Margaret. Cruelly so this time. Making her think that some kind of joy was possible in her mundane existence when, in reality, it will always remain out of reach.

David Nolan flings one last duffel bag into the back of his pickup truck which is already filled with boxes and suitcases. He turns to Mary Margaret, a pained expression on his face.

“This is for the best,” he tells her in a strained voice.

“For everyone but me,” she replies with false brightness, lifting both shoulders in a resigned gesture.

David frowns. He takes a tentative step towards her, but when Mary Margaret backs away from him, he stops, his arms hanging awkwardly at his side. “Well,” he tells her, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I guess so.” She turns abruptly, unable to tell him good luck. Because it would be a lie. She doesn’t want him happy with Katherine. She wants him happy with her.

She hears the pick-up rumble down the road, and she chokes back a sob as she hurries down the sidewalk. Huddling deeper into her coat, she tries to ignore the excited voice calling out behind her.

“Mrs. Blanchard! Mrs. Blanchard!”

Henry Mills is a persistent boy who won’t take his teacher’s hint as she tries to shrink further into her coat. He darts in front of her, turning around to walk backwards in her path. Mary Margaret groans when she sees the large leather volume open in his hands.

“Henry, I’m not really in the mood for fairy tales right now.”

Henry’s countenance holds a look of near panic, his eyes wide and darting. “But this is serious! Please tell me that wasn’t David’s truck driving off right now!”

Mary Margaret stops suddenly, her hands coming out of her pockets, balled into tight fists. “Henry Mills, I mean it!”

“But today is the day! It’s her birthday; Emma’s 28th birthday!”

Mary Margaret’s mouth opens, an angry outburst on the tip of her tongue. She’s going to tell Henry that this is all his fault. For putting fairy tales in her head. For convincing her to read to the John Doe - David – in the hospital. For making her wonder what life would be like surrounded by family and friends who loved her. She doesn’t care that it will crush the heart of a student who has come to mean the world to her. She just can’t take his delusions and his irrational optimism. Not today.

Thankfully, though, the words never come. Before she can say a word, a rainbow tinted ray of light washes over her, over Henry, over all of Storybrooke. She gasps as memories flip like a rapid slide show in her brain. And the best memories of all, the ones that fill her heart near to bursting are of –

“Snow!”

Mary Margaret’s breath comes out in a sob as she whirls towards the voice. She finds him, two blocks away, standing beside his truck, which is parked illegally, half on and half off the sidewalk. Marks left by burning rubber are left in the vehicle’s wake.

“Charming!” she cries out, her voice cracking.

They run towards one another, colliding in the middle of Main Street, lost in kisses that taste of both their tears.

“You found me,” she tells him when he pulls away.

“Did you ever doubt I would?” he replies, wiping her tears away with his thumbs as he cups her face.

“Grandma! Grandpa!”

They both weep amidst tears of laughter as Henry collides with them. They don’t know how it’s possible, but somehow they know that Henry is right. He’s theirs; his birth mother is Emma – their Emma. Mary Margaret jerks away from the small group hug, her eyes widening as they meet David’s.

“If the curse broke –“

“then she found us too,” David finishes for her.

“But how –“

“Uh, guys,” Henry speaks up, “what’s that?”

Mary Margaret’s eyes widen in wonder at what she sees. David instinctively steps closer, wrapping his arm around her. For there, on the horizon in Storybrooke harbor, is something they haven’t seen since leaving the Enchanted Forest.

It’s a pirate ship.

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

By the time the ship reaches the docks, a small crowd of disoriented people are crowded at David and Mary Margaret’s backs. They are jostling, calling out questions to their former rulers.

“Why are we still here?”

“Where’s the Evil Queen?”

“What’s that ship on the horizon?”

Honestly, Mary Margaret is just as disoriented as everyone else. David yells for them all to calm down, but he honestly wishes for his sword right now to face whatever pirates may be heading their way. Of course, the memory of wielding one is still a little fuzzy in David Nolan’s formerly cursed brain.

So when the ship’s gangplank lowers, all Mary Margaret and David can really do is stand, brave and proud, before the townspeople. Something stirs in David’s breast when a lone figure – a woman dressed in clothing of the Enchanted Forest with golden blonde hair tumbling down her back – descends from the ship. Mary Margaret seems to feel the same as she grips his arm tightly. The woman’s eyes seem to find his in the crowd first, and as she comes closer, something about their green color seems familiar. Then she smiles and Mary Margaret gasps and steps towards the woman with outstretched, shaking hands.

“Emma?” she asks tentatively.

Can it be? David almost doesn’t dare to hope . . .

“Mom?” the woman asks, voice wavering.

Then the two woman are in a hug, Mary Margaret sobbing, the other woman – their daughter! – hugging her back a bit hesitantly, tears springing to her eyes. The crowd behind them disperses, quietly whispering as they allow the royal family this private moment. David can barely put one foot in front of the other, but he does. He draws both women close, cupping the back of his daughter’s head just as he did the day he placed her in the wardrobe. Somehow, he knows it’s his Emma without a shadow of doubt. He can’t say if it’s her eyes or her chin – both so like Snow’s – or if it’s her smile, but he knows.

“You found us,” Mary Margaret sobs as she pulls back, cupping the woman’s face.

A woman. His baby girl is a woman. And at that realization, his heart breaks a little. The reality of all they have missed washing over him and overwhelming him with grief. And then Mary Margaret gives a gasp and rests her hand on Emma’s abdomen.

“Oh, Emma,” she sighs.

David’s feelings are a confusing jumble. Part of him, irrationally, is anger. But he already knew Emma had a son – Henry – years ago. So why does seeing this baby bump under her shirt and vest make his veins thrum with anger?

“Yeah,” Emma says with a little nervous laugh, tucking her hair behind her ears, “a lot’s happened, I guess you could say.”

Then Emma’s eyes widen and her face pales as she sees the boy standing just behind Snow. Now Emma’s hands tremble as she lifts them hesitantly.

“Henry?”

“Mom?” Henry looks shocked and overwhelmed as Emma cups his head and bends to kiss the top of it.

“Henry, not a day has gone by these past ten years that I haven’t thought of you.”

“Really?” Henry says, and Mary Margaret picks up on the notes of skepticism in his voice. Especially when his eyes drift to Emma’s rounded stomach.

Emma nods, her eyes filling with tears. “I was just a kid myself, and . . . it’s a long story, but I wanted you to have your best chance. If I’d known that Regina would adopt you –“

“Wait,” Mary Margaret interrupts, shaking her head, “how do you know about Regina? And sweetheart, we sent you here, to the land without magic. How did you end up back in the Enchanted Forest?”

“And on a pirate ship?” David adds.

The smile that lights Emma’s face at that question is a familiar one to Mary Margaret. It’s the same look she gets on her face when she thinks of Charming.

“Well,” Emma says, biting her lip, “that’s a long story. But first, I want you to meet two very special people. He wanted to give us a minute alone, but . . . “

“He?” David asks, glancing with concern at Mary Margaret. She shoves in response, but she has a feeling she knows who he is. Or who he is to their daughter, anyway.

“Killian!” Emma calls up the gangplank. “Killian! Martha!”

Then a dark haired man, dressed head to toe in pirate garb, is descending the gangplank, a little girl balanced on his hip. Emma hurries to meet them, pulling them eagerly towards her parents and her son. When they get closer, David’s eyes widen when he sees a hook at the end of the man’s left arm.

“Captain Hook,” he bites out when the man gets closer. The pirate has the decency to duck his head in shame.

“You mean Captain Killian Jones,” Emma corrects, “my husband.”

“Your what!” David thunders.

Mary Margaret glares at him and quickly steps between the two men. “And this is?” she asks in a sweet voice, reaching up to tickle the little girl in the pirate’s arms. The child buries her face in her father’s neck.

“This,” the captain says fondly, “is our daughter Martha.”

“Hi, Martha,” Mary Margaret says gently, “I’m your grandma.”

The little girl turns hesitantly to look at Mary Margaret, and David sees his wife’s eyes peering out at them. Actually, the little girl looks a lot like Snow, except for the freckles across the bridge of her nose.

“She’s not normally so shy,” the pirate says with an awkward chuckle.

“Y-you had another kid,” Henry blurts out, “and you’re pregnant.”

The boy looks pale and unsure of the situation, and Mary Margaret quickly pipes up, “Maybe we should all go get some lunch and get to know each other!”

“That sounds amazing,” Emma enthuses, rubbing her pregnant belly, “it’s been way too long since I’ve had some onion rings.”

“Well,” Mary Margaret says brightly, “Granny makes the best! Let’s go!”

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

The little family reunion gathered in the booth at Granny’s is, honestly, an awkward one. This wasn’t how David imagined it. Okay, so he hadn’t really known what this moment would be like, but he certainly hadn’t expected his daughter to already be a mother of three. Almost.

And he certainly hadn’t expected her to be gazing in adoration at Captain Hook.

Her husband?

“So, Hook, last I heard, you were terrorizing the realms as a blood-thirsty villain.”

“David!” Mary Margaret admonishes.

Hook gives him a pained expression. “I won’t deny those accusations.”

“But,” Emma quickly jumps in, “you’re not that man anymore.” David clenches his fists beneath the table as Emma brushes a kiss to the pirate’s cheek and squeezes his hook affectionately. His hook!

“Daddy’s a hero,” little Martha pipes up. She doesn’t seem to expect anyone to disagree with this statement as she proceeds to shove a French fry in her mouth.

“Hook – I mean, Killian,” Mary Margaret jumps in, “how did um . . . you two meet?”

Hook laughs gently as he gazes into Emma’s eyes. The two of them share a weighted look, and then Emma leans her head on his shoulder.

“We met when we were kids,” Emma says, voice almost giddy. She tilts her head up to look at her husband with unabashed affection. “He was so adorable back then. Gave me my first kiss.”

“Uh, just on the cheek,” Killian quickly clarifies when he catches David’s glare.

Mary Margaret exchanges a confused look with her husband. “How was that possible?”

Their daughter then proceeds to tell them an incredible tale about an enchanted wardrobe that involved, apparently, realm-jumping and time travel. David’s heart is a riotous mess as he thinks of how it should have been him watching over Emma and protecting her. How it should have been him to teach her how to sword fight and use her magic. Not this . . . pirate, this former villain.

“What about my dad?” Henry pipes up in a small voice.

The table falls silent as Emma looks at the ten year old with a sad expression. She presses her lips together and the silence stretches out awkwardly.

“I mean . . . it’s not him . . . is it?” Henry asks, gesturing to Hook.

“No lad,” the man answers, “though I would be honored if I were.”

“How do you know?” Henry snaps. “You don’t know me!”

“Henry –“ Emma starts, voice gentle.

“And you!” Henry shouts, jumping out of the booth. “You forgot about me and had another kid! You never loved me!”

He runs out of the diner after that, leaving his book of fairy tales lying there on the table. Emma leaps from her seat to go after him.

“Emma!” Killian calls after his wife. He picks up the book and hands it to her, “This might help.”

Emma nods as she takes it, then she reaches into the pocket of her breeches and pulls out a small vial. “A protection spell. Rumplestiltskin is around here somewhere, and I don’t want you taking any chances.”

The pirate nods, his expression serious. Then Emma dashes out the door. If the silence was awkward before, it’s positively charged now. Little Martha, oblivious to the tension between the adults, whines as she crawls into her father’s lap.

“This little one is sleepy,” Killian explains, “I should get her back to the ship.”

“Nonsense!” Mary Margaret tells him. “Get a room here at Granny’s.”

“Honey,” David chuckles, “I’m sure they’re used to sleeping on his . . . boat.”

“It’s winter,” Mary Margaret snaps, narrowing her eyes at her husband, “and that’s our granddaughter.”

David sighs as he looks at the adorable three year old. Her eyes droop her and her head lolls against her father’s chest. “Of course.”

Mary Margaret calls for Granny and insists that she help Killian get a room. The old woman glowers at the pirate, clearly recognizing him, but Mary Margaret is persistent. Granny finally caves when Mary Margaret calls the man her son-in-law, and David massages his brow wearily at the way Granny’s eyebrows fly to her hairline. The man follows Granny, cradling the little girl expertly in his arms despite his hook. Once he’s out of earshot, Mary Margaret smacks David in the chest.

“How could you be so incredibly rude!” she scolds. “The first day we get our daughter back, and you’re acting like a toddler.”

David’s jaw drops. “You can’t tell me you’re happy about this! Our daughter married a pirate. Last time we were in the Enchanted Forest, he was a villain. Sometimes in cahoots with Regina, from what I heard.”

Mary Margaret puts her hand gently on his arm. “But did you see the way our daughter looked at him?”

David stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest. “No. Not really.”

“It’s the way I look at you, honey. And he looked at her the same way.”

David grumbles and Mary Margaret rolls her eyes.

“And need I remind you, David, that the curse just broke?”

David shakes his head in confusion, “Of course I know that!”

Mary Margaret gives him a withering look. “And what breaks curses?”

David groans as realization washes over him. “Oh no, you can’t mean –“

Mary Margaret nods. “True love’s kiss can break any curse.” She gestures back down the hall where Captain Killian Jones – Captain Hook – has just disappeared. “That, sweetheart, is our daughter’s true love.”