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yoditorian · 4 years

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lacuna- part 3

din/reader

she’s dropping early because i have no patience and i’m extremely proud of the last 2/3rds of this. thanks as always to my darling @brothersdrxke for being encouraging and yelling with me 💛

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swears, overuse of italics, discussion of violence including graphic injury, mentions of scars (causes not discussed), one use of ‘their’ as a pronoun for reader, usual poetic smut, 18+ no babies thanks

You didn’t think you’d be back here.

Maybe ever, but definitely not after only a couple of years, and your smile is tight as you flick the lever to lower the small freighter’s boarding ramp. You’re sure it won’t come back if you drop it.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Qin’s teeth are sharp in his own smile.

“You’re not.”

His snarled response is cut off by Ran’s booming laugh before it starts. Your old boss claps him on the shoulder, saying something in lieu of a real greeting about how he’s missed your jokes. It’s a little tense, the way the men take you in for a moment. You didn’t wear your uniform, there’s not a thing on the ship that points any fingers towards the Rebellion, but it’s clear you’ve done well for yourself since leaving. Something they clearly have not, judging by the holes in the jacket tied around Qin’s hips.

“Thanks for letting me stay, system hopping takes a lot longer when your hyperdrive’s busted.” You relax a little, let your shoulders drop, let them think you’re more than comfortable under their scrutinizing gazes.

“We’ve probably got something laying around here you could use. For a price, of course.” Ran grins, in that predatory way that he always has. He seems so unassuming, but you know different. You know better.

“Your prices always land me on the wrong end of a blaster. I’ll take my chances in open space, thanks.”

He laughs heartily again, and you can breathe. At least they seem to believe you.

Ran had offered you your old room, something you’d graciously thanked him for, and left you to it. The station seems to run the same, more or less. He hasn’t hired anyone in your place, or in Din’s for that matter, but it’s difficult to find somebody without loyalties to any one side of the war. Leaving the spots open for now is probably safer for him. You’d raised a hand in greeting to Xi’an when you passed her in the hall, she’d hissed in return but any time she didn’t threaten to cut you is always a win. So at least you’re still in somebody’s good graces here.

Still, good graces don’t last long. And neither does your patience. It’s only a few hours into the night cycle on the station when you creep out of your room and towards the main hangar. Your old workspace looks exactly the same, a few bits and pieces missing, but mostly untouched by time and sticky fingers. Good. It takes less than an hour to completely gut the bench. Every single old motivator, circuit board, gear, and valve packed up neatly in the cargo hold of the ship. There’s still larger engine pieces that the base mechanics are in desperate need of, but Shara’s working on that lead. You find a black marker lying on a nearby workbench and draw a big smiley face on the dulled metal. For good measure.

It’s with a deep breath, and a prayer you never have to return, that you maneuver your ship up and out of the station. You ease it into lightspeed, the definitely-not-busted hyperdrive humming, and disappear.

“Did you think I don’t keep tabs on people, Mando?”

Din would rather go swimming on Mustafar, or get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, or be literally anywhere else in the galaxy than the hangar on Ran’s station. How he’d even known he’d joined the Bounty Hunters’ Guild is a mystery to him, but the call came through nonetheless. The new representative on Nevarro, a very theatrical man if their short contact was anything to go by, had popped up in the holo-com display talking about a special assignment and given him coordinates he knew all too well. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“You know, Xi’an’s still broken up about you leaving. Convinced herself that you and the pilot organised it, that you’re holed up somewhere together. But we both know that’s not true.”

Din says nothing. He doesn’t need to, Ran’s tone leaves nothing to be discussed. Whether he knows for sure that you went straight to the rebels or not, he has his suspicions. Xi’an can think whatever she likes, he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to deal with her trailing after him like a lost puppy anymore.

“They said you have a job for me.”

Ran gestures out for him to follow, leading him to a desk he knows all too well. Your workstation was always cluttered, always a tangled heap of wires and unidentifiable spare parts. Organised chaos, you said, it was about the piles. Except it’s been completely cleared out. There’s shelves underneath that he didn’t even know existed, and a big smiley face drawn carefully on the worktop. Din turns his head towards Ran, a wordless question.

“We had a visit from our old friend, a favour done out of the kindness of my heart. So imagine my surprise when we all woke up to find their room empty, and my hangar pillaged.” Ran’s laying it on thick, thicker than usual. Pillaged is a strong word, it’s clear you only touched your own bench, those parts belong to you as far as Din’s concerned. But it’s not his concern that’s the problem.

“So, what’s the job?” He doesn’t feel like playing games anymore. He doesn’t see what any of this has to do with him anyway.

“I’m putting a bounty on that little thief, it can be yours or it can go to the Guild. Or,” Ran hesitates, watching the way Din’s shoulders tense, “You can help me out. Help me with this one thing and I’ll drop it.”

Din doesn’t even ask what he needs to do, he only nods and finds himself trying his best to tolerate Qin’s chatter from the Crest’s passenger seat while he flies.

It should worry him, that he didn’t even consider his own safety. But something about it feels right, he’s sure he’d put anything on the line if it meant you were safe.

It’s almost boring, standing guard at the door as Qin ransacks some official’s office on a planet he’s already forgotten the name of. Ran mentioned something about a trade agreement, although given the largely illegal nature of his dealings it doesn’t take a genius to work out exactly why something like that would have been refused by any law abiding citizen. Although law in the Outer Rim is generally subjective to everyone’s personal code.

“One more office and we’re done.” Qin assures him as he exits the upturned office, pressing a drive into Din’s gloved palm. He pockets it without question, experience has taught him that wasting time asking will only get them in trouble.

Trouble seems to find them anyway. It always does.

He races through the beige hallways, following the blinking dot on the display of his vambrace with Qin hot on his heels. The security guards aren’t fast, they aren’t even armed, there’s no point in shooting when the two of them so clearly have the upper hand. Until a burly Trandoshan leaps out of a doorway and tackles Qin to the ground. But Din doesn’t look back, he just presses forward to the Crest.

Din hightails it out of there, jumping to lightspeed still in atmosphere. Just in case. And breathes his first sigh of relief since he stepped onto the station. He’s not sure what’s on the drive, honestly he doesn’t want to know, and he just hopes it’s important enough to Ran that he might overlook the tiny detail of leaving Qin to the guards.

Ran only seems mildly annoyed that Din comes back alone, more interested in the drive dropped into his waiting hand, and agrees to forget about setting a bounty. So long as you don’t turn up on his doorstep, lie, and steal from him again. Din promises to pass on the message.

You’re on Tatooine, arguing with a scrapper in Mos Espa over the price of a rusted laser cannon, when he finds you. The scrapper quiets when he appears over your shoulder, and nods reluctantly at your suggested fifty percent of the asking price. It’s hot and you’re tired, you don’t have the patience to pretend to be surprised when you turn to see him standing behind you.

“Help me with this?” You ask. Din watches a bead of sweat drip down your temple, tries not to wish it was his tongue instead, and nods wordlessly.

Between the two of you, you manage to haul the cannon to your docking bay and roll it up the loading ramp. Only once it’s secure in the hold do you take a moment to survey his armour, the way you did last time.

There’s no obvious new scratches, although the dust on this rock of a planet will dirty anything in a matter of seconds, but you find yourself relieved by the familiarity of his dark red armour. Nothing has been replaced since the last time you saw him, it seems. You’ve come a long way since then.

“You’re stealing from our old boss now?” Din’s voice breaks your careful study of his armour, and your brow furrows. You thought he might understand, out of everyone in the galaxy, but you don’t even know how he found out.

“We’re in a war.”

“You’re in a war.”

Your eyes snap up to his visor, and he has to physically plant himself so he isn’t rocked back by the intensity of your stare. You find his eyes every time, you always have. But yours have never held such a cold fury for him than they do now. It’s kind of terrifying, it’s kind of beautiful.

“This is not about me. This is so much bigger than just me. You may have grown up underground learning how to kill people with your thumbs but I grew up under imperial rule. I grew up building parts for star destroyers and running messages for rebels. All I know is this fucking war.” You’re rambling but you don’t care. He has to know, he has to understand that this is what you do now. The last couple of years have been the best of your life, you’ve found a purpose. Something that makes you want to get out of bed in the mornings and reluctant to go back to it at night, you’ve thrown yourself into the brewing fight and it feels like you were born for it. The names of all the friends you’ve lost to the Empire sit heavy on your tongue for every TIE you take down, every supply you steal, every bit of intel you scrape together. It’s for them, it’s for everyone who came before, it’s for everyone who will come after.

Din says your name softly, but the tears are falling and you can’t stop.

“I’ve been fighting my whole life so kids in the future don’t have to live the way I have. I think a few spare parts are worth that.”

You tell him your whole story, standing there awkwardly in the belly of the freighter. You tell him about the messages you ran between workers who resisted, who rebelled, who heard whispers of uprising and felt the roar of hope in their chests. You’d started young, too young really to understand the danger of what you were doing. But what about being young on Corellia was not dangerous? You tell him how the group started to grow, branching out from your factory line to the docks and the mechanics and further. The way they started to include you more as you got older, planning and whispering in darkened corners and safehouses away from the ears of the Empire.

Not that it did anyone any good in the end. You tell him how they stormed the house one night. No warning, no whispers. Blew the door out of the wall and started shooting. So you’d started running. Nothing but the blanket from your bed, the one you’d had since you were a child, around your shoulders and a younger girl’s hand in yours. You’d almost gotten her to the loading docks. To safety. Almost. You can still taste the blood in your mouth when the blaster bolt split her head open, but you’d left her where she fell and kept running. You tell him how you dove into the first open cargo bay you saw and hid. For days. How you’d cried when you felt it finally lift from the bay. How it had been Ran’s ship, one of his first trades. You hadn’t had the courage to leave the station until somebody had shown you it was possible.

Din doesn’t interrupt once. He only watches. Watches as the tears stop streaming, as you pull yourself back together again. He’s sure you didn’t want him, anyone, to see you so vulnerable. You’ve always had that mask of quick jokes and bright smiles, it’s only now that he realises it's a mask, and it’s oddly fascinating to watch you piece it together. You wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of your jacket until there’s no trace of your tears and take a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, it’s as though you never cried at all.

Even so, the bags under your eyes don’t lie. He’s sure he’s got a pair to match.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asks quietly, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was concerned about you. But you do know better.

You shoot a glance over to the freighter’s sorry excuse of a bunk. It’s even worse than the last one he took you in, although you’re not sure he’s suggesting a good fuck will get you off to sleep. It’s very pointedly not been touched, starched sheets still stretched military-tight over the mattress. Not that it’s much of a mattress.

“Let’s find a room somewhere. I think a real bed might do us both some good.” He makes it sound like an offer, but you know it’s non-negotiable. And deep down, you really could use a good hour or two before you have to fly back to base. The pilot’s seat is definitely more comfortable than the bunk, just about. You dip into the cockpit at the last second to snag your old blanket. For comfort’s sake.

There’s not a lot in the room that an older Twi’lek woman hands you the keycard to. Only a desk with a chair, an attached refresher, and a small bed. But it’s big enough for the two of you. The suns start to dip below the horizon, and Din finally reaches out to touch you. Just barely, just a light stroke of his fingers along your shoulder. But it’s enough to convince you to take a shower, you’re sandy and sweaty and tired and it’ll take more energy to argue than it would to just take the shower.

You’re in there for longer than you intended, zoning out as your eyes lose focus of the little square tiles on the wall, and it’s dark outside by the time you’re dried and dressed in the spare clothes you keep in your go-bag. Din’s pulled blinds shut, locked the door, and piled his armour carefully on the desk. The ancient wood creaks under the weight of the metal. The man himself is lying spreadeagled on the bed, in only his underclothes and his helmet, the dull light from the single bulb in the refresher reflects off of his visor when he turns to look at you. It might make you laugh if you weren’t so tired.

“Better?”

You nod. Of course you feel better, anyone would after scrubbing what felt like an inch thick layer of sweat and sand off of their skin. You smell of the pleasantly neutral soap from the dispenser and, for the first time in days, you think you can breathe again. Although the weight of exhaustion threatens to drag your bones through the floor.

Din pulls himself to stand with a low groan, shoulders protesting when he rolls them, and tucks the sheet back far enough that you can get in comfortably. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s laid your blanket out beneath them, a thought that sits jagged in your throat. He approaches you slowly, carefully, as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast. But you take his hand the moment he offers it and leans around you to switch the fresher’s light off, let him lead you back to the bed, and follow him down onto it.

There’s the barest sound of metal brushing against his hair as he pulls the helmet off and sits up for a moment to set it down on the floor.

“Din?” Your voice is quiet, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled in the room, but it makes him shudder all the same. He returns to you, tucks the blankets up around you both, and tugs you into him. The Armourer’s words, the ones that swirl in his head every time he thinks of you like this, are silent. Din finds he’s not even a little bit guilty.

Warm fingers trace your body, soft over your exposed skin, light as they dip under your shirt. He says nothing, only traces the scars on your back, on your sides, along your ribs. He doesn’t ask how they got there, running his touch along the raised marks you’ve collected through your life and leaving goosebumps in his wake. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel quite so empty.

You shift further into the warmth underneath you, a vain attempt to keep a hold of the last few dregs of sleep. But you feel rested, at least. That’s not something particularly familiar, and you bask in the feeling. A hum rumbles beneath you. Oh, that’s where you are. You’re not embarrassed, or shocked, like you thought you might be if this ever happened. If you ever thought it possible he wouldn’t leave you to wake up alone. But Din is solid under your head, under your arm, the soft fabric of his shirt clutched in your fist. He’s speaking softly, coaxing you from dreams. It’s still dark as anything when you finally open your eyes, so it can’t have been more than a few hours you spent snoozing.

It’s his story, you realise when your brain finally kicks into gear. He’s whispering about the memories he has from before, his parents. You’d always assumed he was born and raised Mandalorian, how he carries his Way so heavily on his shoulders, but the shake in his ribs as he recounts them tells you all you need to know. Your fist tightens in his shirt when you shuffle a little closer, press your face into his shoulder, a little more over the top of him. A human blanket.

Din likes it, the weight of you on him, your body helps him to keep focus. He never thought he’d tell anyone what happened to him. A dirty secret to be kept hidden away. But something about you pulls it out of him, something about the peace he’s created here with you in this little room makes the truth ease its way out of his throat. You’re not the only one who felt the wrath of the Empire as a child, you’re not the only one who wants it gone, he needs you to know that.

It breaks something inside you, to hear him so clearly struggle through the details of the attack and his rescue, and you can’t help but push yourself up further. Unwrap your hand from his shirt to find his cheek, press your lips to his softly, slowly. He’s suffered enough. You need him to know that you’re here, you have him. You’ll always have him. You let him lose himself in your body, and maybe your heart. He’s already made a home there anyways.

It’s careful, tentative, more so than the other times. The way you hold each other as though you’re made of glass. There’s no rush, no pressure of a goodbye, no adrenaline of a hunt. You have time. And, god, does it show. The way Din touches you is reverent, like you’re holy. You put everything you are, everything you have, behind every kiss, every touch, every whisper. It belongs to him, you’re happy to give yourself over. Just as he belongs to you, you’re sure of it. The fear that he touches someone else in the way he does you is soothed by the roughness of his voice in your ear, the way his teeth scrape against your throat, the way you hear the words without them needing to be said. Because he does, as you do.

You’re the first one to leave this time, blindly finding your clothes in the dark. You leave him a neutral comm, one you already have the pin saved for. He’ll know what it is. It connects to your personal pin without leaving a trace, and you can buzz him at any point. So long as he keeps it, you think he will. You take a moment to listen to him breathing, steadily in the dark, and raise your blanket to your nose. Din.

There won’t be a day goes by where you don’t think of him, of that you’re certain.

TAGLIST (lmk if u want on or off the list):

@brothersdrxke @remmysbounty @aq-vetina @1800-fight-me @mandos-co @kesskirata @sarahjkl82-blog @firstofficerwiggles @keeper0fthestars

#lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star war #fic #liz does words #obligatory prayer to the tag gods that they work #smut

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oracleofkairos · 3 years

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30 Questions For Your Guardian

These questions are taken from the post here by @fem-birb-woman, seemed like a good way to kick this off! 1.) What is your guardian’s name? What does it mean? What inspired you to choose that name for them? "The Oracle Of Kairos. I didn't choose it, but it was given to me by the followers of Osiris, after my frequent excursions into the Infinite Forest."

2.) What did your guardian name their ghost? What does it mean? What inspired them to choose that name?

"This here is Custode, means Guardian in a pre-collapse tongue. Little bit of a joke, but this little guy has seen me through many trials, and I'll know he always has my back."

3.) What is your guardians favorite weapon of choice? What mod do they use for it? Do they have a masterwork on it and if so, how many enemies have they killed with that weapon?

"The IKELOS_HC_V1.0.2 , a gift from Rasputin. I've tuned it to handle rank and file opponents, I have had the aid of others to bring it up to a masterwork of engineering, and frankly, I've lost count of how many this pistol has killed."

4.) Do they participate in the Crucible often or do they just go to complete the daily challenges? "I hate the crucible. I understand it's purpose, both for morale and training, but I still can't bring myself to enjoy getting curbstomped by other guardians."

5.) If your guardian had to choose to be another class, what class would they pick? Or would they stay the same? "I think I'd prefer to stay a Warlock, but I could see myself as a half-decent titan, but I'd be much more of a strategist than an unstoppable battering ram."

6.) What is their favorite subclass within their own class? "Stormcaller. I've always felt a more tangible tie to Arc energies, and since the reawakening of my light, that has only strengthened."

7.) What is their favorite subclass in a different class?

"Sentinel titans will always have my respect, they put themselves on the line to shield allies from harm, and they're very good at it."

8.) Would they rather receive a titan kiss ( a hard ass headbutt that mostly results in death ), asking a warlock a question that might result in a long explanation, or deciding to play the knife game with hunter and bet at high stakes? "Ask the question of a Warlock. I'd much rather have an interesting conversation than risk losing a body part, no matter how briefly."

9.) Would they prank other guardians or just their close friends? What kind of pranks would they pull?

"The Hijinks of the Drifter and Cayde always made me... Afraid, of pranks. I don't think I could bring myself to engage in such things."

10.) Which vanguard member to they like to hang out with the most? "I'm on good terms with both Ikora and Zavala, but I more often find myself discussing theories or new intrigues with Ikora whenever I stop by the tower. She's been a fine mentor and a better friend."

11.) Who would they fmk out of Skolas, Ghaul, and Calus? "Frankly, I hate everything about this question, but in the interest of honesty; Fuck Skolas, Marry Calus, and Kill Ghaul."

12.) What kind of hobbies do they do in their free time? Are there any particular skills they have that help them with this hobby(s)? "I've always found an interest in etchings and engravings, I've got a good hand from many hours with a pen, and that serves me to handle the tools when making carvings."

13.) What is their favorite armor set and what shader do they use for it? "Oddly, I've always been attached to the Exodus Down armor provided by Failsafe... It's always just... Fit me, in a way. Almost all our armor is perfectly tailored, but this runs deeper than that. And, in honor of the Followers of Osiris, I wear Kairos Bronze."

14.) Do they prefer silence or are they unbothered in loud areas? "Depends on what I'm doing, when studying or researching, I require quiet, but I do enjoy the bustle of the Tower when I need to relax."

15.) Are they afraid of storms? If so, is there a specific reason why? "To the contrary, I love storms. There's nothing better than wandering and just taking in the energy radiating from those electric clouds."

16.) Who were they before their ghost revived them? Do they know about this and if so how or what did they use to learn about themselves? "I know looking into such things is... Frowned on, but I have done some research into it. Between my own strange clicks, and the fact I was first revived on Nessus, I believe I may have been one of the crew or colonists aboard the Exodus Black."

17.) How close are your guardian and their ghost? If they are not close, would your guardian kill their ghost and choose to answer the darkness’ calls? "I love Custode. If anything were to happen to him, I'm not sure I could, or would want, to survive the experience."

18.) Would your guardian engage in a romantic relationship with Fallen, Cabal, Hive, etc? If so, what do they find attractive about the species? "This... Is an odd question, I suppose I couldn't deny the possibility of finding myself with a sentient member of any of those species. I wonder what a relationship with the hive would even be like..."

19.) Who is their favorite lore hero? Example, Jolder, Saint-14, Andal Brask, etc. Why is this person their favorite and in what ways do they inspire your guardian? What would your guardian say if they were face to face with them? "Osiris and Toland The Shattered. I could not hold them to the title of Hero, but I look to their works as examples on how to push the limits of Guardian knowledge, but also how to be mindful of the edges of madness."

20.) Does your guardian like plants? If so, what kinds? Do they prefer flowers or trees or shrubs? Would they start a garden?

"I do enjoy plants, and I actually have a small terrarium containing a blueberry bush inside my orbiter."

21.) If your guardian became obsessed with something, what would it be? "The infinite forest... I was... Unable, to resist the temptations of the possibilities within, and found myself lost for a long few years... I've only recently re-emerged, only to find Cayde dead, Osiris hostage, Mara, Saint, and others returned, and some mad scheme about swearing guardians to the darkness. It was... A difficult adjustment."

22.) Do they like reading books or watching movies or both? What genres are their favorites? Does their fireteam have the same taste? "I've always enjoyed both books and cinema, whenever I was invited to showing by other guardians. Historical fiction and high fantasy hold a special place in my heart, as they speak to our capacity for imagination."

23.) What kind of music do they like? Do they dance around anybody in any situation or in the privacy of their quarters? What would their favorite song from the Golden Age be? "I've always enjoyed Golden Age Classical, since I first heard it among Rasputin's broadcasts. And while I don't often dance, I do enjoy the occasional slow dance with a partner during The Dawning, or other festivals."

24.) What does their living space look like? Are there a bunch of pictures around or do Knick knacks cover the shelves? Do they enjoy bright, neutral, or dark colors? Would they purchase a fur rug? "I do my best to keep organized, but there's many, many little momentos of my travels, and it makes it difficult to keep things tidy. I prefer cooler colors, and I do have a fur rug I pinched from Clovis Bray's facilities. Bear, I think."

25.) Do they travel around the city often? If so, what are their favorite places to go and who do they go with? Are the civilians ever excited to see them or do they give them a look because of precious mishaps that resulted in property damage? "I often travel within the city, whether I'm visiting friends in the New Monarchy, or going to the various scrappers and book-vendors. I have a few good friends, and I do my best to be polite and respectful to all others."

26.) Are they good with kids? If not, how do they react when a child tries to talk to them? If they are good with kids, what kind of things do they do to entertain them? "I'm... Not amazing, with children. I enjoy their inquisitive nature, but I sometimes get too wrapped up in my explanations, and either scare them with things they didn't need to know, or leave them with more questions than they started with."

27.) Are they in love with Shaxx?

"No. In the words of a man with wisdom beyond his years; 'Every minute I spend in the crucible makes me wish I stayed dead.' "

28.) When your guardian sleeps, are they stiff and stay in one spot or wild and kick off the sheets? Do they have nightmares often and if so, about what? How often do they sleep? "Custode does his best to remind me to get a full nights sleep, and tells me he sometimes has to verify I'm still alive, given that I'm almost perfectly still. As for nightmares... They happen, especially after everything on the Moon."

29.) Do they enjoy coffee, tea, soda, or water? Would they mix all of these together and drink the liquid on a dare? "I'm partial to both Coffee and Tea, particularly one kind Eris was kind enough to make for me during our stay on Luna... And absolutely not."

30.) What about their personality attracts other guardians to them? What is it about other guardians that attracts your guardian to them?

"I enjoy other guardians with a passion for discovery and a desire for knowledge, and I often find others who seek me out for the same. Though there have been cases other guardians or fireteams have sought my guidance after my years in the Infinite Forest, hoping I have insight into future events."

#destiny the game #destiny guardians #destiny oc #destiny warlock

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kstewdeux · 4 years

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InuKag Week 2020: June 9th (Loyalty)

@inukag-week

Posting early again because why not and just in case tomorrow is crazy nuts. Onward!

Version of Me

“I feel an ominous presence over that village,” Miroku began his usual schtick as his companions exchanged uncomfortable and exasperated glances.

“Funny how that seems to only happen to wealthy villages,” Inuyasha commented knowingly as he folded his arms across his chest and gave the monk a withering glare.

Miroku didn’t bother hiding his grin as he looked over his shoulder and arched a single brow, “Very unfortunate, wouldn’t you agree? Shall we inform them?”

“I mean you’re going to do it anyway so sure, why not,” Inuyasha huffed sarcastically as the group began marching towards the well-endowed village, “Whatever could go wrong.”

It took exactly five minutes. Less than that really. It started with the customary villager yelling about a demon approaching which earned the customary groan of exasperation. Miroku and Sango had gone ahead to reassure the villagers while Kagome hung back with Inuyasha and Shippo. Normal enough. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until Inuyasha had to dodge an unexpected spiritual arrow that they realized a worst-case scenario was coming to pass. The barely contained lynching mob was armed with clubs, sticks, stones, and so forth. A few flourished swords or other deadly weapons. Within their masses, anger was brewing like tea in a kettle and their rabble was growing steadily in volume.

“That’s the one!” “Kill it!” “Be gone!”

“Peace! Peace! He isn’t who you seek. He’s not here to harm…” Miroku tried as block the swelling mob with his staff and Sango quickly took the defensive, “Stop! We…”

It took exactly one well-placed blow to the head for Miroku to go down and Sango saw red. As did her hanyou companion who, unfortunately, was faster.

“What the hell?!” Inuyasha cussed loudly as he scooped up the monk and hopped a meadow distance backwards, “We’re not here to hurt…”

Stopping mid-run, Kagome forgot how to breathe as another unseen arrow made contact in the worst place imaginable and the half-demon crumpled in a flash of pink light. That moment could’ve lasted seconds or hours before her feet were moving again – a giant crackling barrier emanating out of her as she quickly covered the distance between them. Inuyasha hadn’t disintegrated. Maybe…maybe she was seeing things. Maybe…maybe it was okay. He…he just passed…

Another arrow hit and buried itself deep in his side. What was more terrifying than the new injury was that Inuyasha hadn’t reacted. Hadn’t even flinched. His hair though…his hair was slowly fading to black.

Planting her feet firmly into the ground, the barrier pulsed and whirled as Kagome tried to ignore the very real possibility that the man she loved more than life itself was already gone. Until he was safe from the oncoming horde, she couldn’t look. Wouldn’t look. There…there would be time for that later.

Sango rushed by her a moment later and Kagome heard the slayer skid to her knees.

“They’re….they’re breathing,” the miko heard her friend call out a moment later, “But we need to get them out of here.”

“I’ll stay here. You go,” Kagome hissed as she finally glanced over her shoulder, “I don’t think they’ll hurt me.”

“Kagome…”

“I said go!” Kagome demanded as she knocked her bow and held it at the ready, “I’ll deal with them.”

“I’ll be back,” Sango vowed before calling to her cat companion. It was sometime between the emergence of the giant crackling barrier and the slayer taking off that the mob finally seemed to realize they had made a huge mistake. Standing awkwardly about half-way between Kagome and the village entrance glancing at one another and shuffling their feet.

“You there!” one man finally called, “What business do you have here?”

“We’re demon slayers,” Kagome hissed back angrily as she pulled back on her bow, “We heard you had a demon problem so we came to help!”

“Are you a priestess?” the man called back and Kagome realized it must be the village headman.

“Yes,” Kagome hissed and the pink shield flared slightly.

“Oh.”

“OH!?” Kagome screamed angrily as her eyes flashed, “THAT’S ALL YOU CAN SAY AFTER YOU NEARLY KILLED MY FRIENDS?! OH?!”

The villagers seemed even more uncomfortable at this outburst and finally a young woman pushed her way through the crowd and stepped forward with her hands up in clear surrender.

“Lady Priestess…I…I apologize.”

Kagome sighed slightly as she realized this young woman wasn’t a woman at all. She sounded like a child. Maybe ten or eleven. Looked it too.

“It was my arrow. I…I didn’t realize that the beast was your familiar,” the girl continued as she took another step forward and sank to her knees – completely oblivious that her explanation was only fueling Kagome’s rage, “You see, we’ve been…we’ve been plagued by a red clad demon. He…or she killed my brother. I…I just…”

Her voice trailed off as the young thing cringed and seemingly tensed for what she imagined would be retribution.

“If you must punish anyone, punish me,” the young girl muttered just loud enough for Kagome to hear, “Our village healer would…would be willing to tend to their wounds? If…if you can find it in your heart to…

“You seriously think we’ll trust you?! That we’ll bring our friends and offer them up on a silver platter so you can finish the job?!” Kagome hissed before glancing over her shoulder when she heard Sango approaching. Waiting until she heard the firecat land, Kagome fired a warning shot into the air – the aura circling it an unusual purplish hue – and didn’t even bother seeing where it landed.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Warm blood flowed like a lazy river out of his wounds despite Sango’s obvious attempt to stabilize the arrows to prevent further damage. The hot pools collecting around his body dampened the edges of her skirt but she honestly didn’t notice. Inuyasha’s normally tan skin had sunken in tone to something so lifeless it scared her just to look at him. No matter how badly he’d been injured before he never looked a hair away from a corpse.

But he was still breathing. Blood was oozing out meaning his heart was still beating. It would be alright. They just needed...

“No no no. Don’t pull those out,” Sango gasped as she tightly gripped Kagome’s wrist.

“He...he always just pulled them out,” Kagome managed shakily as heartbroken sapphire eyes met Sango’s brown, “I...”

“We have to assume he’s human,” the slayer soothed, “We have to treat him like he’s human until we’re certain otherwise.”

“So..so...”

“Hold him down and close your eyes,” Sango instructed gently, “I imagine he’s going to scream.”

“Wha...”

“Just trust me,” Sango sighed shakily as she grabbed Kagome’a medical supplies before pausing, “Arrow wounds are a special animal. Did I ever tell you how I was injured when we first met?”

“No...”

“Four arrows in my back,” Sango told her with forced calm, “It can be done but...but...many don’t survive. They’re like fish hooks. Removal...removal can cause more damage then the arrow itself. You need to be prepared for the worst case scenario.”

“No, no he’ll live,” Kagome muttered in denial, “He’ll be fine. You’ll see. He’s...he’s had worse injuries and he’s been fine.”

Sango gave her friend a pitying look but nodded and began the tedious task.

Xoxoxoxoxoxo

Each gurgling breath came in ragged, shallow gasps that left crimson bubbles oozing out of the corners of his mouth. His lips themselves had taken on a bluish tinge and his skin was cold as ice. Any trace of demonic features had long since faded away erasing any hope that his demon blood might save his life. He was dying. Painfully and slowly.

“Inuyasha…” Kagome began hoarsely as she ran her thumb over the back of his hand, “If you…if you can hear me…can…can you squeeze my hand?”

A subtle flex. The lightest of pressure and the miko let out a watery laugh.

“Okay, okay, so squeeze once for yes and twice for no,” she cooed as she searched his ever paling face, “Do you need anything right now?”

Two feather light flexes and his lips appeared to twitch upwards.

“I was thinking…” Kagome cleared her tight throat and her voice cracked as she continued, “Would you mind if I used a jewel shard?”

One squeeze.

“You want me to use a shard?” Kagome tried to clarify as she began fumbling clumsily with the bottle around her neck with her free hand. The shards themselves were warring between a deep purple and their usual soft pink. Pulsing with power in time with each breath the priestess made.

Two squeezes.

Kagome paused in her efforts and stared down at him in horror.

“But…but you could die,” she breathed hoarsely as she gripped his hand tightly and one flex was her reply.

“You can’t die. I…I love you,” Kagome choked back a sob, “I love you. You can’t leave me here. You can’t do that. You have to stay. You have to get better.”

His hand clasped around hers tightly while his nostrils flared and a tear slid down his cheek. For once, there was actual strength behind the motion that lasted far longer and imparted so much more than a simple yes or no could ever say.

It was an apology, an admission of love and a plea to stay with him until this was over. In whatever way it was over. Kagome’s lips twitched upwards at the thought that he had always done so much better with action instead of words.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised as she grabbed a white linen and lightly dabbed some of the blood trickling down his chin, “And you’ll get better. You’ll see. It’ll be fine. You can’t leave me here. You can’t leave. I won’t let you.”

Another tear sild down his cheek and moments later he was gone.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Anger and hatred were a much easier pill to swallow than grief and love. Darkness that came with the former enveloped her in its strong protective arms and held her close. It fueled a primitive drive she didn’t realize she possessed. Any hunter will go for the weak spot of an animal but it was something much more to do so fueled by an impulse to cause harm. To feel satisfaction in suffering. To punish.

It had been a year, maybe more, since she last saw the others. It had been early fall and it was now approaching the second winter. She’d tried at first but it felt like something was broken inside of her. The jewel shards around her neck always tainted. Warring and swirling between black and pure pink. They weren’t warring any longer.

The villagers who had killed him had been the first to go. It was a fairly simple curse. One she’d found in her family’s shrine. They all walked one by one off a cliff as she watched with morbid satisfaction. Other villages soon followed in ever more creative and cruel ways.

And now she found herself here. Although Inuyasha had never described or even alluded to its location, this had to be the palace where he grew up. So many faces looked similar to his. Relatives no doubt. They welcomed her with high born arrogance and ushered her into their guest house.

They didn’t recognize her as anything other than a priestess nor did they have reason to do so. She’d long since shed her modern clothes. The red and white garment she rejected and her clothing was more similar to that Tsubaki had worn. The look was intentional. Tsubaki was the only dark miko she had ever encountered. It only made sense to emulate her. What she now donned was identical in almost every way other than color. She had chosen emeralds over blue.

Her new host and intended victim informed her that a demon had been plaguing them. It needed to be exorcised. They blamed a curse for attracting it and wove a fantastical story about how centuries ago one of their women had been seduced by a demon. That their spawn of hell haunted them still. That the child killed its mother and misfortunate upon misfortunate befell them ever since.

It was all Kagome could do not to kill her host where he stood.

More answers were needed, however. How the child had killed its mother. What types of misfortunes they blamed on Inuyasha. It would bring her a sick joy to find out he occasionally showed up just to mess with his relatives. Tore down a building. Poisoned their water.

It turned out the answer was that the child allegedly struck the palace with a plague. That it was that same illness that killed his mother. The misfortunes that followed were of a mundane variety. Poor harvest a few years in a row. An overly rainy season. Random demon attacks over the years. None of which had anything to do with the “child” but were blamed on him nonetheless.

Kagome leaned against the door frame with one hand lazily draped across her chest as she watched the various villagers go about their daily business. Could see the man-made koi pond on the far side of the courtyard with a small bridge leading to a lush garden. A tear slid down her cheek as she imagined what tiny Inuyasha looked like running around in this place. Probably shadowed by his mother who loved him dearly. Happy and innocent like most children. Maybe even oblivious that everyone in this world hated him and wanted him dead.

Tapping one finger against her shoulder, she hummed and turned to retire for the night. This was the final village that needed punishment. It had taken her months to find it and after it was gone, she could rest.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A solitary figure moved fluidly atop the palace walls and expertly launched then landed on a nearby roof. It was actually rather impressive that she’d managed to put enough pieces together to find this place. Impressive and terrifying. He’d seen what she’d done to other villages and he knew why she had done what she had. Well, not so much why in general but why those villages. He could tell you who had done what and when for each abandoned town he’d passed these past few months. The others had written Kagome off completely – wanting nothing to do with her. They’d followed her at first but then they saw the carnage and knew the woman they loved was gone.

But Inuyasha could never abandon her willingly. The only reason he left was because he had literally died. It was still unclear how he came back – although he had his suspicions – but what upset him most was how much later he was given a second chance at life. Months had passed by. Months. If he…if it had happened sooner, he could have done something. Said something. But maybe it wasn’t too late.

Landing skillfully on the small platform outside the small room, he held his breath and tried to brace himself for an attack. Inuyasha wasn’t so naïve to think Kagome would still remember him, much less love him but he had to try. If she could bring him back from the brink, maybe he could do the same for her.

Thank god he saw the arrow coming and was able to duck just in time. He really didn’t fancy dying that way twice. It had royally sucked the first time.

“Fuck Kagome, what was that?” he hissed angrily as he remained crouching before his anger faded into something akin to fear. Instead of blue, her eyes were black. Dark circles accentuated those haunting orbs and the skin on her face looked stretched. Had she…she hadn’t sold her soul had she?

“Kagome,” he breathed as his heart sank, “I…”

“How dare you,” she hissed as ominous crackles of lightning began surging around her feet, “How dare you take his form. How dare you pretend to be him.”

“Well I dare because I am him so there’s that,” Inuyasha snorted before he literally had to scramble back from a flash of light that came a little too close for comfort.

“Kagome it’s me dammit!” he hissed as he ducked and weaved around her various attacks. For someone capable of exterminating entire villages she was doing a piss poor job...

Inhaling sharply, he realized she was missing him intentionally. She wasn’t sure whether or not it was him. A glimmer of hope began growing in his heart. Maybe...maybe she still loved him.

“Shit. Shit. Okay, um,” he breathed as he continued their awkward potential lethal dance, “Crap what’s something only I’d...oh! Okay so you remember that time when Sota was trying to ask that girl out in your time and...and you came outside when he was practicing saying that he, uh..that he...”

Cringing, Inuyasha trailed off as he realized that was a stupid, stupid memory to bring up before noticing Kagome had stopped firing.

“It is you,” Kagome breathed as she took an involuntary step back before her eyes narrowed in suspicion, “How?”

“Honestly? No fucking clue,” the half-demon laughed once in relief while retaining his defensive posture, “I’m guessing Sesshomaru but I can’t say for sure.”

“And you tracked me here?”

“Well yeah. Of course I...”

Before he could finish, she tackled him and he panicked.

“Wait, shit, don’t…oomph…” he tried before her lips pressed firmly against his and she pulled back with a watery smile.

“How did you find me?”

“I ...You left some signs,” he began slowly as he reached up to cradle her cheek, “Kagome, what happened? I…I saw the villages. Why did you...”

“They killed you,” she hissed as she clumsily got to her feet and he stared up at her with heartbroken eyes, “They hurt you. They needed to pay. They needed to…”

“Come here,” he pleaded softly as he sat up and stretched out one hand, “Just come here.”

Begrudgingly, she approached and knelt down just out of arm’s reach.

“I’m more concerned about how you did it,” he began hesistantly, “You didn’t...you didn’t sell your soul, right?”

“Of course not,” she clipped back as she folded her arms across her chest and he sighed in relief.

“Where did you learn to do those things then?” he continued and she gestured towards a small book laying atop the futon, “So from a book? Is it from your shrine?”

Kagome nodded and her heckles seemed to be rising from his tone.

“I’m not judging you. I’m not,” he promised before sighing heavily and scratching the back of his neck, “And I’m not going to stop loving you because of these things. You always stayed by my side no matter what I did. I know…I know you’ve changed but…but…”

He trailed off and averted his eyes when her scowl deepened. Her cold dark eyes set in an expressionless face. Inuyasha’s heart sank. Kagome was too far gone. This was Kikyo all over again but so much worse. Yes, Kikyo was consumed by anger and hatred but...but there was still some purity to her. There was no purity to this Kagome. The shards around her neck were a testament to how dark she’d become. All because of him.

“If you want me to go, just tell me,” he mumbled miserably, “I...I just...”

Kagome’s scowl slowly faded as she bit her lip and closed her eyes in pain.

“Its not that. I just...I’m different now. I’m not the woman you remember and I don’t know how I got like this,” she admitted softly as she opened her eyes and his heart swelled slightly at the faint blue rim that was slowly appearing, “I…I was so angry. You didn’t do anything to them and they just…they….”

“I know and what happened was messed up,” he acknowledged as he tentatively scooted closer and took her hands in his, “But I’m here now. We’ll be okay as long as we stay together. So, the question is whether you’re going to chicken out and leave because I’m not going anywhere.”

Kagome’s lips trembled as her face fell.

“I…I’ve done some things,” she began softly as she gently retracted her hands, “Killed people.”

He laughed once.

“And? How do you think I lived this long? I’ve killed a lot of people. A lot,” Inuyasha reassured her, “Not all of them deserved it either but what matters is that we try to do better. You taught me that.”

“I’m not sure if I can be better. I hate...I hate feeling like this all the time. I can’t even remember the person I used to be,” she admitted shakily as her shoulders sagged and Inuyasha knew exactly what she meant. Sighing softly, Inuyasha cupped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Its going to be okay. You’re not alone anymore. I’m here,” he promised as he gave her a reassuring smile before he began glancing around the room. Maybe she needed a distraction for a moment. Some normalcy.

“So.... how did you figure out this was where I’m from?” he asked curiously as he got to his feet and moved towards the bed. Reaching down, he felt blindly under it for a moment – pressing on the floorboards with the strangest expression on his face, “I wonder…ah!”

A small pop soon followed and Kagome crawled towards the half-demon that was now eagerly pushing the bed away from the wall.

“This was actually my room,” he laughed softly, “Way back when. Did you ask to be put in here?”

“They said it was the guest quarters,” Kagome mumbled as she watched Inuyasha pry up a part of floorboard.

“Guest quarters? Probably thought it was cursed because god forbid I lived in it. Oh yeah, put the strangers in the room. Who cares if they die,” Inuyasha mocked playfully before he smiled and knelt down, “There is it.”

Gingerly removing the package from its hiding place, he sighed shakily as he unwrapped the parcel exposing a small jade bracelet.

“It was my mothers,” he informed her, “My father gave it to her. I…I didn’t want to take it with me. Figured I’d lose it or it’d get stolen.”

“So, you hid it under the floorboards?” Kagome asked curiously and he shrugged.

“Safer here than with me,” he hummed as he knelt down and held it out to her, “I want you to have it.”

“Why?”

Inuyasha shook his head and a blush appeared on his cheeks, “I would’ve looked for you forever you know. I...I would have. Because...because I love you so...”

Shifting awkwardly, he cleared his throat and lifted the bracelet a little higher, “Just take it, okay?”

Kagome’s cold black eyes stared at the gift for what seemed like an eternity - her expression unreadable. At her lack of response, Inuyasha looked even more nervous and a little lost.

“Well, um, so...” Inuyasha continued as he finally lowered his hand and began playing with the smooth beads, “So I know a lot has happened since I last saw you but I was hoping that we could, um, try to...to...well I want...”

He cleared his throat as he hesistantly held the beads out once more.

“I want you.”

“Inuyasha I want you too. Really I do it’s just...” she finally breathed and he lowered his hand as he waited for her to continue, “Its just...I’m not the same person you remember. You wouldn’t love me if you really knew. I know you said you’ve killed people but I’ve done...things. Things the Kagome you knew would never have done. It’s more than just one or two Inuyasha. It’s more than just killing. It was torture. The way I did it..”

“I saw the skeletons so I have a pretty good idea how you did it,” Inuyasha reassured her quietly, “I literally don’t care. I’ve done things that...”

“You’ve killed whole towns? Women? Children?” Kagome mumbled skeptically and Inuyasha snorted.

“For a lot less,” he informed her, “I was angry for a long, long, long time. The reason I don’t argue with people when they call me a monster is because it’s kinda true. And yeah I’ve changed but that’s doesn’t change what I’ve done.”

“If you really knew...” she began in a heartbroken tone and Inuyasha’s reassuring smile faltered.

“Did you team up with Naraku or something?” Inuyasha asked quietly and Kagome set her jaw and gave him a withering glare.

“No.”

“Still would’ve loved you,” he informed her with a sincere smile, “Kagome part of why I never said I loved you was because I never thought you’d love me if you knew what I did. And I didn’t want to lie about it either. With Kikyo I thought I could...”

He sighed heavily.

“She assumed the worst in me. Assumed I killed whole villages. Not that I told her but...she just assumed so I didn’t need to,” he groaned in frustration before gesturing at her, “With you...well you thought I was just like everyone else which was nice, don’t get me wrong, but...but you just...I’m not like everyone else. I’m every part the demon we kill on an almost daily basis. I just...”

“Koga literally ate people and I didn’t judge him,” Kagome huffed defensively and Inuyasha snorted.

“Yeah but you didn’t want to fuck him,” he pointed out playfully before sighing when she didn’t blush or chastise him for his language, “Kagome all I’m saying is...”

“You’re different,” she interrupted quietly and he made a small noise of confusion so she continued, “You aren’t evil. I...I am.”

“Thats not...” he groaned with a roll of the eyes, “Just listen. People change. They grow. When I was younger I did a lot of things I’m not proud of and didn’t feel bad about any of it. I was evil. And yeah, by the time you met me, I was a better person but I wasn’t always that way. You might be going through some shit right now but this is just...thats just right now. In a few years, you might be someone else entirely. You don’t know.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Kagome asked in a weary tone, “How can you still say you love me?”

“I literally chased after a dead woman who actively tried to kill me,” Inuyasha reminded her gently, “Who did all sorts of god awful things for literally no reason and I still loved her. Why wouldn’t I still love you? You only killed those people to get revenge for what happened to me. It wasn’t random. You went down this path because you loved me and wanted to avenge my death. To be honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing if they killed you just with less style.”

“Style?” Kagome snorted as she purposefully ignored the mention of Kikyo. The woman already had her second death even before Inuyasha left this world. There was no point starting a fight over that especially when what he said was rather reassuring.

“What you did was actually kinda impressive,” he teased as he wilted in relief that she was smiling, “You convinced a whole town to walk off a cliff in a single file line. Another one it looked like you somehow got the villagers to drink poison in masse. That’s style. I would’ve just killed everyone myself the old fashioned way.”

She smiled faintly and played with her hands.

“So…what do you say?” he asked quietly as he held up the delicate looking bracelet, “Will you stay with me?”

Letting out a long shuddering breath, she smiled and his heart absolutely melted when he saw that faint ring of blue expand.

“I‘ll stay,” she whispered.

“Good because I would’ve just stalked you anyway,” he laughed happily as he glanced over her shoulder at the door, “We should probably get out of here before the sun rises. I hate this place.”

“I mean we could stay and...”

Inuyasha gave her a chiding look and Kagome blushed.

“No. No. You’re right. Lets just go.”

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

“Well good morning,” Inuyasha laughed tiredly as he rolled onto his side and watched his wife work on a particular potion, “So what are you making so early?”

“Medicine,” Kagome muttered distractedly as she referenced the book and Inuyasha gave her a skeptical look, “Okay, an antidote. Someone poisoned a girl in a nearby village.”

“Well that’s not good,” the half-demon yawned as he stretched, “Who poisoned her?”

She paused and gave him a guilty look.

“Okay so...so…technically…I did,” Kagome explained sheepishly before amending at his look of surprise, “Not recently or anything. Back when...when I was...anyway, she drank out a well that I, um…”

“We should probably do something about that well then,” he opined lazily while scratching his chest, “Just cover it up, huh?”

“Until I can find a better solution, yeah,” Kagome sighed miserably before she sat back and pinched the bridge of her nose, “They think its just bad water. They don’t know its poison.”

“Well that’s something,” he soothed as he sat up and cracked his neck, “When did they come by? I didn’t hear them.”

“Technically they didn’t,” Kagome mumbled miserably as she began working again, “Overheard some travelers talking about it.”

“When?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk,” Kagome sighed and Inuyasha wrinkled his nose.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” he accused and Kagome gave him an apologetic grimace.

“So…technically I, uh….put a spell of silence up…”

“You didn’t,” he gasped in mock offense before snorting, “You use the word technically a lot. You know that, right?”

“It wasn’t because…I just wanted to make sure we weren’t found. You know because...because...” Kagome insisted a little desperately before relaxing when she realized he wasn’t going to be mad at her. Clearing her throat, she continued uneasily, “So…anyway, I went for a walk and…”

Inuyasha let her continue explaining and he kept his responses neutral. They still fought like they always did about stupid shit but he found if he didn’t react to the bad things she’d done while he was dead, she wouldn’t get upset and the creepy black eye thing wouldn’t come back. And he hated the creepy eye thing. She swore up and down she didn’t sell her soul but that was the one thing that always had him wondering whether she was just afraid to tell him. Which made some sense? Or not. In either case, it didn’t matter.

Kagome had been trying so hard to do better and he wanted to encourage her. If he got upset, she’d get defensive and start keeping secrets. He needed to make sure she was honest with him. To believe him when he said he still loved her no matter what she’d done. Which was true. He did still love her. Very much. And sometimes what she admitted was extremely disturbing but that wasn’t going to scare him off. He would stay with her. Always. To make her better as she had done for him. To support her just as she had done for him. That and even though she had done some batshit things, Kagome was still Kagome. Maybe he just had a thing for crazy women. That would explain a lot actually.

“Yeah…” she concluded nervously as she grabbed a vial and began filling it, “So…that happened. They didn’t know I was there.”

“Do you want me to come with…”

“No! No…” Kagome blurted out as her eyes widened in horror, “Just…just no. I won’t be long. You just stay here, okay? Stay.”

Inuyasha sighed heavily and nodded. She was so terrified to let him accompany her. Afraid that something might happen to him. And given what happened last time he died, he wasn’t going to fight her or take risks. Not yet at least. He’d give it another year or so before they broached that subject. They had time fortunately. Or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it. It was kind of a bummer but Sesshomaru, Miroku and Sango had managed to defeat Naraku without them. The jewel was still incomplete – half of it highly tainted and with Kagome - but no one seemed to be looking for shards at the moment. Last he heard, the slayer and the monk had settled down in the village and were expecting their first child. Which made him kinda sad that he was going to miss their lives but while he loved his friends, he loved Kagome more.

And he’d be loyal to her until the end. He’d save Kagome like she saved him. No matter what or how long it took.

#inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #kstewdeux #kagome #inukag fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #inukag-week #long reads #read more

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lowell-moonguard · 4 years

Text

Call for RP Contacts

Heya there! I’m trying to reach out to folks to hopefully find some more RP contacts for my characters. My work hours make it really hard for me to really do it in-game given that most people are in bed by the time I walk in the door and due to the amount of bigotry I’ve faced in the past for my queer characters, its made me somewhat afraid to try again.

I am not available during the daylight hours (MG Time), I work 2nd shift at my job and am home at the earliest of 2am monday-friday. Often times I can be home even later (4:30am mon-thurs and 6am fri). Aside from raiding on Saturday I am generally free on the weeknds. All characters are on Moon Guard.

What I am Not comfortable with

Overly flirty characters: This is mostly because I’ve had bad experiences in the past with people who tend to lean really hard on very sexual and/or flirty characters. I don’t mind the occasional thing, but if its very constant I don’t think we’re going to be a good match.

Romance RP: I’m not currently looking for romance rp. If we click and it looks like something that might come up between us, it can be a conversation that happens then.

ERP/Erotic Roleplay: I am an adult, but these are not the adult themes I want to explore.

Erasure of my characters canonical disabilities: If your healer character has the power to “fix” their disabilities, then this not something that I’m willing to entertain. Magic doesn’t mean that disability is gone, but that the definition of disability is different and has a completely different context within the various societies of Azeroth. And even ones that are disabilities in all contexts isn’t something to just be waved away with magic as that carries some very problematic ideas towards what its like to be disabled.

Themes I’d like to explore

This is not an exhaustive list! I’m open to others and discussions!

Rebuilding of Trust: Slowly rebuilding one’s trust in others, a concept, or something else! Trust is an easy thing to shatter and very difficult to fix. Especially if it was the fault of someone who isn’t even still alive.

Finding your place in a world that’s moved on without you: Time might have stopped for you, but the world did not. Coming out into the world decades behind at best is jarring and finding your place is difficult when everything’s changed

Neurodivergence and disability within a world with magical accommodations

Grief and magically altered memory: How does one mourn when the person isn’t allowed to be remembered? How does one cope when someone else decided to tweak details of one’s memories for their own gain? How does one cope with magically induced amnesia, built up from a mistake when they desperately want to remember?

Please note that while I am separating them by faction, its mostly to sort them as blizzard does.

Alliance Characters

Lowell Wyther

In-Game Name: Lowell

Worgen Harvest Witch

Age: 25

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: they/them

Faction: Night Elf

Bio: What is effectively a feral child being drug kicking and screaming back into the lucid world Lowell has struggled to adjust to life as an actual person with responsibilities. They deal with the curse about as well as one can expect, but are alienated from their peers. A fact that’s only gotten worse since the burning of Teldrassil which nearly took their life. Having no loyalty to the Gilnean royalty, and what little faith they had in the Alliance Leadership shattered. Lowell has found that hoping that someone swoops in to save them is the quickest way to die, and is of the opinion that that there is no one who is coming to save you.

Muirín Battledirge

In-Game Name: Battledirge

Dark Iron Dwarf Shaman

Age: 235

Gender: Genderfluid

Pronouns: any/all

Faction: Neutral

Bio: Growing up and surviving Azeroth makes anyone jaded and cynical. Muirín is no exception. However she instead of wallowing in her misery and self-pity she takes it upon herself find the joy in life. The sweet before the bitter takes hold. To laugh, and sing, and find company with her comrades before the next apocalypse. Once the dust settles and the fires are put out, she takes up her violin and starts taking down the names of the dead, adding them to her music in the hope that they are remembered.

Falmarin Tempestwake

In-Game Name: Falmarin

Night Elf Demon Hunter

Age: Adult

Gender: Bigender (woman/agender)

Pronouns: she/they

Faction: Neutral, Night Elf leaning

Bio: Falmarin’s origins are similar to many Kaldorei that followed Illidan’s path. The Legion came, they lost everything, and they made their choice. She, however, didn’t really expect to make it past their victory. Now a few years after the Legion’s defeat she’s found herself with little purpose, and little reason to live. Naturally she became a pirate with her close friend from the Illidari.

Horde Characters

Vansia Dessuphis

In-Game Name: Vansia

Nightborne Monk

Age: 5,000

Gender: ???

Pronouns: he/they

Faction: Neutral

Bio: Spending his life under the “safety” of the bubble Vansia scraped but only just barely. Working as a courier and inscriptionist he raced through Suramar before and during the rebellion, using these skills to aid the Dusklily. Today he is a student at Tian Monastery, learning the healing arts and learning to heal from his own trauma.

Erynion Desrosiers

In-Game Name: Erynion

Nightborne Grove-Tender

Age: 485

Gender: ???

Pronouns: he/they

Faction: Neutral, Horde Citizen

Bio: Unlike his peers, Ery struggled to learn magic as taught. It wasn’t that he was incapable of magic, it was that the approach was wrong. As a result he’s leagues behind where he should be for an elf his age. What he lacks in teaching he makes up for in enthusiasm, as once he found his love of flora nothing could keep him from it, even caring for the plant life of Suramar by hand without magic until someone pulled him aside to teach him just enough to be useful.

Vothaeu LaChance

In-Game Name: Vothaeu

Nightborne Caretaker

Age: 26

Gender: Questioning

Pronouns: She/her

Faction: Neutral, Horde Citizen

Bio: After the rebellion, Vothaeu used her withered wrangling skills to take care of them after they were no longer useful to the Shal’dorei. Specializing in their care as well as their retrieval she spends her shifts either taking care of the ones that have already been rescued, or diving deep into the ruins of Suramar to find others who the city had failed. Excited about the world she longs to find adventure beyond Suramar but her heart can’t bare to be away from home long.

#Long post #Moon Guard #Wyrmrest Accord #World of Warcraft RP #RP Call #Doomed Drifter.txt

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titan-mom · 4 years

Text

Destiny Fic: Sundown

Better late than never, they say.

Pardon me while I squeeze the last of my Rasputin-centric feels out before Beyond Light.

1400 words with Ana and Auburn. I tagged this “coworkers to friends” on ao3.

Auburn wrenches the ancient bunker door open far enough to squeeze her shoulders through. Without Rasputin she has to do it manually, and the hydraulics squeak and protest. Ana frets for a moment, if they can’t close and barricade that again it’s a route for hive or psions- but that doesn’t matter anymore, Rasputin is gone and there is nothing important left for them to find.

Or there might be, there might be. And that’s what she is looking for.

She’s a bit surprised Auburn found her so quickly, but maybe she shouldn’t be. This was where he had taken her after all, his time capsule. Ana was working at the station to the left of Felwinter’s crypt, digging for any backups he may have kept in here. Anything that may have survived the destruction.

“Pyramids are filling the airspace, we gotta go.” Auburn calls across the room, striding down the catwalk. “Those things are scrambling comms and transmat telemetry, but I got my ship tucked up somewhere safe. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

But Ana is rooted to the console, bracing herself for this argument. “Tell Zavala I’m not done yet. I’ll go when I’m ready.”

“Not you too. Ana come home.” There’s a sudden pain in Auburn’s voice she doesn’t understand, but she doesn’t have time to understand. She runs another query through the system, searching for him, for any aspect or fragment she’s missed, anything important.

“You don’t get it.” Ana tries, planting her hands on either side of the console and watching the scan surge through files. “He’s my responsibility, and mine alone. Even Zavala sees that. Just tell him that’s what I’m doing, my responsibility. Dealing with my consequences.”

“Ana, I want to help him too, I swear.” Auburn pleads. “But you’re in danger and I promised myself I’d get you out.”

She snorts in disbelief, and Auburn makes an exasperated noise. Ana looks up as the Titan reaches up and tugs her helmet off. Her brow is pinched in frustration and concern. “Why is it so hard to believe that I care? Not just because Zavala told me to but because I give a shit?”

Ana rocks back from the console, irksome, and turns her attention to this brewing argument. She was trying to avoid this. “Look, whenever we’re on comms, and I’m defending myself against Zavala, I just hear you get quiet. I know we hit it off well, I feel like we could have been friends! And I can tell you’re too nice to chime in and side against me too. I appreciate it, but I wouldn’t like, hold it against you-“

“No!” Auburn blurts. “It’s because I don’t want him to hear me siding with you.”

Ana pauses and chews on that. “With me? But you’re- you know…”

Auburn does a little list of her head, like she suspects where this is going, but is going to make her say it out loud.

“You know.” She says again. “You’re… a Titan.”

“And?”

Ana groans a little in the back of her throat, rocks from her heels to her toes, uncomfortable with acknowledging she’s being unfair. She’s stressed damnit. “Figured you’d be siding with your Commander, no matter what. And… that you’d be kind of stuck up about rules. And maybe think everything I’m doing is too stupid or dangerous. Titan things.”

She snorts. “We’ve got free will you know. That’s not a Hunter exclusive trait.”

Ana winces.

“Trust me, I’ve always sided with you.” Auburn presses again.

“Well you never told me.”

Auburn looks ready to snap back, but closes her mouth and looks away, shuffles a bit to fold her arms around her weapon and recede. Ana watches her like a raptor, thinking steps ahead. She has to win, she has to buy more time to save Rasputin.

But Auburn sighs, and looks like she’s lost the will to fight already. “Look, we don’t talk a lot, because, well, twelve years ago I opened the Skywatch Array and made a friend.” She looks down at the Ikelos shotgun in her hands, a gift. “Zavala forbade me from contacting him and I listened for a while, but then I started talking to Warsats, and they started talking back, and I- I thought I was special.”

She turns and paces the room, the discomfort of the discussion spurning her into movement. “You know I was awestruck at it. I can still play it out in my mind, the silhouette of that array unfurling against a winter’s sky. It was pivotal. It was my very second day alive, my very first act as a Guardian. Ghost was looking for a comms link to call for a pickup and instead we found array codes and a Warmind. He was basically the first person I made contact with, besides Scout here.”

Ana blinks once, and lifts her chin at that. It occurs to her she’s never heard another Guardian so innocuously call Rasputin a person.

“And then a decade went by and I was following a signal on one of his channels and I got your distress call. He led me to you to help you, all the other Guardians out there and he chose me, but I was just crestfallen because I learned I wasn’t the only one he liked. And you’d been with him much longer. You had more of a connection, you were better friends. You’ve even got that nickname for him.”

Auburn laughs mirthlessly. “But you know, couldn’t blame you, wasn’t like you had ill intent. I just had to get over it. Did my best.”

Ana blinks, trying to follow this rapidly developing new direction. “You’re saying… you’re jealous?”

“Yeah.” She admits, ashamed. “Yeah, I have been, the whole time.”

It dawns on Ana, all their past conversations suddenly make sense. The moments Auburn got abrasive, the moments she was defensive. The pang of jealousy Ana had felt when Rasputin guided Auburn down here, into his deepest vault.

It didn’t have to be like this.

“I’m sorry.” Ana says. “He’s… you know. He didn’t mean to make you feel that way. And I didn’t.”

“I know. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry too.” Auburn replies, genuine and honest. But Ana rocks a little on her toes.

“Actually, I’m going to tell you a secret. You absolutely can’t tell Zavala.” Auburn lifts an eyebrow but nods a little. “It won’t hurt anyone. He just doesn’t know exactly how far I’ve been digging into my past, and he wouldn’t like it. I found logs about me, and Rasputin. I actually… programmed him. I was a linguistic anthropologist for Clovis Bray.”

She gives Auburn an apologetic grin. “I gave him the Shakespeare, the opera, all the music and art. I even tried to teach him how to tell jokes, they were just as bad then as they are now. So, technically, it is my fault. I taught him everything he knows, anything he learned he learned from me, anything he didn’t, well, I failed to teach him.”

“We can debate the moralistic division of Guardian and pre-guardian lives another time.” Auburn offers, with a twinge of humor. And she does have a soft smile, now. “I won’t tell Zavala, pinky swear. That said, I do feel a lot better. How did I think I could compete with his actual mom for role of favorite person in the universe?”

Ana barks a laugh. “I am not his mom. Oh, Traveler, am I his mom?”

Then she remembers the loss filling her gut, and decides that’s a thought for later.

“I have to try a little longer.” She says firmly. “I have most of him, in an engram. But its not much and… I think if I can find anything that will help me put him back together, it’ll be here.”

Auburn strides over, looking over her shoulder. Her own expression has returned to something grim. “Scout and I looked around in here before too. Let us help. Two hours, deal? We grab everything we can, and then we get him out of here.”

Ana takes a steadying breath and nods. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”

She gets a strong Titan shoulder clap in response. “We fly fast enough and we can tell Zavala we only stayed for one.”

Ana grins, despite herself, and moves onto her next search parameter. “Wish we’d been co-conspirators sooner than this.” She admits.

“We were.” Auburn replies, halfway across the room already. “Whether we knew it or not.”

#destiny fic #my fic #auburn #ana bray #Auburn and Ana returning to the tower: we're best friends now #Zavala now confused and concerned: you.... weren't friends already?#His two biggest warmind-related headaches making an effort to cooperate properly

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just-come-baek · 5 years

Text

at your scarvice

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Jimin x OC (Jiwoo) and other BTS members as cameos

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: “I’ve done a research about a haunted house which is like only one village away from Jiwoo’s parents’ house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. You’re subscribers will love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

__________

Knock! Knock!

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked straightforwardly upon seeing me on the other side of the doors. As per usual, I smiled brightly, waiting for him to move aside, so I could feel myself home.

“I’m inviting myself in,” I answered, walking past him. “Tonight is a big day, and we gotta get ourselves ready,” I added and put two heavy shopping bags on the floor before plopping on the couch, catching my breath. “I planned the entire day, and we’re already far behind schedule. If it wasn’t for the traffic, I would be here about thirty minutes earlier.”

“It’s just a Halloween party,” Jungkook stated, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal; Jiwoo organizes one every year.”

“The party is just one of the things we’re gonna do,” I started, excited to tell him about everything I had meticulously planned. I was going to make sure he would never forget this night. “I’ve prepared a few surprises before the party.”

“Do I wanna know?” Jungkook asked, sitting in an armchair across from me.

“One thing at a time, okay?” I proposed, and Jungkook unwillingly complied; he had never been the one to fancy surprises, but he could make an exception for his best friend. “First thing on the list – re-watching the season 6 of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural while eating unhealthy snacks and having gin and tonic drinks,” I revealed, and Jungkook scrutinized me, making an ugly face.

“Are we talking postmortem, too?”

“I can’t believe you had to ask me that,” I answered, a little bit disappointed that he thought I’d skip this content. Never; it was too good to be ever skipped on.

“Sweet,” Jungkook exclaimed, jumping out of the armchair in excitement. “Why don’t you turn on the playlist, and I’ll go get us glasses and a bowl for the chips?”

Hurriedly, I logged into Jungkook’s computer and turned on YouTube.

“Which episode was your favorite?” Jungkook asked me as he sat on the couch beside me, setting the tableware on the coffee table next to the laptop.

“All of them were good. They’ve gathered a lot of evidence this season, but for me, the house call one was the best."

“It was dope, but my favorite is definitely the season finale,” Jungkook stated, and I couldn't disagree. All of the episodes were great, and it was impossible to choose the best one – objectively, at least. All of them were hilarious and spooky in their own way, and it was a delight to re-watch them again. “The marathon shall begin,” he added, pressing the play button.

“Finally.”

It was a very peaceful afternoon, and frankly, it was exactly what I needed after a couple of hectic days at the university. The professors were more demanding than usual, and a relaxing hangout was the perfect remedy to all the stress I had been put under.

Per each episode, Jungkook and I would have a drink and empty a bag of potato chips, occasionally bickering about how we would act in these haunted places. While we both considered ourselves shainiacs, it was quite obvious we would chicken out in the moment of strange, not necessarily supernatural, occurrence.

For the outsiders, Jungkook might have seemed to be a tough cookie, but in reality, he was just a big softie. I, on the other side, enjoyed horrors a bit too much; therefore, in the face of danger, I would laugh.

Probably.

One cannot be sure without actually witnessing a supernatural occurrence. Best case scenario – a full- body apparition.

“You would totally run outside screaming,” Jungkook snickered when the ghoul boys’ spirit box picked up a bizarre voice. “You would lose your fucking mind.”

“I would let out a confused chuckle at best,” I fought back, but Jungkook wasn’t having any of this, throwing a potato chip at me, blowing a raspberry. “See, this is why Jiwoo doesn’t like you. You’re too childish.”

“What are you talking about? Jiwoo adores me,” Jungkook protested, and I couldn’t help myself but burst his little bubble of confidence and self-assurance. “I'm like... her best friend.”

“She only tolerates you because she has the biggest crush on Jimin,” I explained, and Jungkook gasped in disbelief. “What? You didn’t know?” I asked, confused because it was too obvious not to notice her infatuation. Only Jimin was too blind to see it, despite Jiwoo’s blatant flirting.

“Of course, I know. I’m not that stupid,” Jungkook answered, but I still thought he and Jimin shared one brain cell. “Too bad for her; Jimin's dumb.”

“I'm betting she's gonna make a move tonight,” I started, knowing the juicy gossip which would pique Jungkook's interest. “Jimin told me he's cosplaying as Fred from Scooby-Doo, and she's coincidentally dressing as Daphne. She's gonna be as subtle as a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”

“Weird way to put it, but I agree,” Jungkook answered, giggling adorably under his breath. “And where's your costume?” Jungkook asked, confused, as he finally noticed the lack of my spooky outfit. Our whole crew enjoyed Halloween too much to attend a party in basic all black clothes. “Jiwoo's not gonna let you in without one. You know it.”

“Relax; I'm going as the Nun from the Conjuring Universe. My costume's at Jiwoo's. I'm not parading in that hellish make-up, giving people heart attacks,” I elaborated, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my choice. Last year, I had been dressed as a very vivid horror character, and a few elders had got pretty spooked. I'm not going down that road again. “I've only got white face powder, three black eyeliners, and a set of black contact lenses on me. And check this out; all of it fitted into my new fanny pack. It's awesome, isn't it?” I showed it to Jungkook, and he grabbed it to investigate my new purchase.

“I've been trying to convince you to buy one for almost a year; what've changed your mind?” Jungkook asked suspiciously, remembering numerous rejections of his (in his opinion) well-argued propositions. In all honesty, I considered fanny packs a terrible accessory, but tonight it suited the occasion. It was more comfortable than a purse or a backpack, and surprisingly, it could fit more items than I had previously assumed. “You've also got a new phone case? It's awesome! Why didn't you get one for me, too?” He added in a whiny tone after inspecting my latest let's summon demons phone case.

“I'd say my fanny pack is going to be a Mystery Mousketool, but then I realized you know what the item is, and you don't know what it's going to be used for,” I started rumbling, and Jungkook looked at me in visible confusion. Perhaps, he had one drink too many to comprehend my twisted presentation. “All I'm saying now, it may come in handy if the second phase of my amazing plan goes a little bit off track,” I continued vaguely. Best friends or not, I couldn't straightforwardly confess that it would be easier for me to run for my life if the police would start chasing us for trespassing a haunted property.

“Whatever's going on your mind, I don't like it,” Jungkook muttered as my previous account must've triggered his spider-sense. “What are you plotting?”

“It's nothing, really,” I tried to dismiss the topic, but Jungkook wasn't having any of that; he wanted to know everything about my secret plan, and he wouldn't stop glaring at me until I'd tell him all the details. With this man, keeping a secret wasn't a possibility.

“Tell me, or else I'm not going anywhere,” Jungkook threatened, and Halloween or not, I knew he wasn't joking. For him, gaming all night was just as entertaining as attending a party; therefore, he didn't have any trouble choosing either one of them. At this point, the only thing I could do was to advertise my plan, making it irresistible. “I was planning on streaming this one game this week, and I might as well start doing it today,” Jungkook carried on with his nerdy shenanigans, letting me know it was my cue to change the subject, snowing him under a handful of promises of an adventurous unforgettable night.

“I've done a research about a haunted house which is like one village away from Jiwoo's parents' house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. Your subscribers would love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?” I blurted out on one breath, hoping my sincerity was enough to convince him. “Pretty please?”

***

The bus to the village was about to leave at 17:06, and we had only ten minutes left to double-check our inventory: two go pro cameras, two old-fashioned flashlights, a legitimate spirit box (which Jungkook had been gifted two months ago on his birthday), an ouija board (which he gave me for my early birthday), and a spare bottle of booze if we sobered up before arriving at the location.

Due to traffic, our bus arrived a few minutes late, but we were in a great mood, so we didn’t mind it that much. If anything, we were even more excited, because it would be already getting dark upon our arrival.

“So tell me something about your research,” Jungkook started, as we found a couple of empty seats in the back row of the bus – finally we were the cool kids.

“OK, so check this out,” I started, sitting comfortably in my window seat, rubbing my hands together in ardor. “No one really knows how many ghosts haunt this place, yet according to previous owners’ accounts there are at least three ghosts roaming all around the house, and I have my theory about their identities,” I said with a mischievous smirk upon my face, waiting for Jungkook to compliment my well-done research.

“What’s your theory?” He inquired, already intrigued by the house’s story.

Even it was only my thesis.

“Finally, let’s go over some theories,” I said, quoting my favorite YouTube channel.

Whispering, I told him everything I had managed to dig out, successfully keeping Jungkook on the edge of his seat for the entire ride.

It was a mystery how many ghosts actually haunt this location, but according to the witnesses’ testimonies, old newspaper articles, and land registers, I was sure about three names. All of the three men were once residents, and all of them died tragically within the sinister four walls.

The unholy trinity of Kims – that’s the name of my theory.

The house was built in 1913 on an old rye field. It was a very amicable side of the village, and no one had expected the house could bring so much evil.

The first tenants moved in 1915, and though neither of them died, they reported they had witnessed strange happenings within the premises, beginning with the dog barking in the middle of the night at the darkness, ending with them hearing screeching sounds from under the walls.

One night, they stirred awake with their skin covered in scratches, and their dog breathing heavily, slowly bleeding to death. Needless to say, they moved out before the dawn, leaving all of their belongings behind.

While the majority of the locals believed it was witches’ revenge since the coven had been denied the premises, some of whom thought the family was mentally-ill and violent.

The house remained empty way until 1973 when Kim Seokjin moved in. Back in the time, he was a singer, slowly gaining popularity. Having signed the contract with an entertainment label, he bought a house as his own getaway when he needed a break from his demanding fans.

He would reside in the house a few times a year, only when he was desperate for a few moments of solitude. In late October 1974, he went for a short hiatus. Late evening, when he was relaxing with a glass of scotch, someone knocked on his doors, asking for someone – almost like in The Strangers.

Seokjin suspected the stranger was just a very sneaky fan and locked the person outside. The sole purpose of buying the property so far away from the city was precisely omitting situations like this.

Unfortunately for him, it was not a fan.

Later that night, a dozen of Satanists broke into Seokjin’s house, tied him up, and carried him straight to the basement where they performed a grim ritual. According to the police report released to the press, he was discovered lying on his back in the middle of a bloody pentagram, his intestines gutted out, his tongue cut out found in a golden goblet, and two paper knives sticking out of his eyeballs.

It is told that his ghost roams around the basement, leaving a bloody trace after him. Moreover, a young journalist, back in 1981, while doing research about satanic rituals, claims she had seen his ghost, resting in a rocking chair down in the basement, sipping a glass of alcohol. She even swore she could smell a mixture of whisky and blood in the air.

Unfortunately, she didn’t gather any evidence, later being called a lunatic by the disbelieving society.

The house waited for its new residents for twenty years – in August 1994, a newly wedded couple moved in right after their honeymoon. Kim Namjoon was a poet, teaching European literature on the university, while his wife, Kim Joori, was a sweet librarian.

At first, they didn’t notice anything strange. No weird noises, no unexpected guests, no cold spots, no nothing. Everything was peaceful until they decided to conduct a major renovation – it was then when the hell unleashed.

In 1996 they decided to start trying for a baby, and though they both fancied the old décor of the house, it was evident it wasn’t a safe space for a child. While they were thrilled to upgrade the property, providing their newborn with safety, the entities which lived inside were not.

Joori was the one who started experiencing supernatural happenings; she only worked three times a week, and the majority of her time, she spent alone at home. During these late hours, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. At first, she justified it with stress and a shitload of work regarding the renovation, but then, the occurrences she had witnessed couldn’t be explained with logic.

Joori wanted to sell the property and move out, yet Namjoon would always dismiss her pleas. It wasn’t until November 1996 when Joori, who was already three months pregnant, and Namjoon had a big fight. She gave him an ultimatum, and when Namjoon chose the house over her, she moved out.

A few collective nights after Joori’s departure, Namjoon would sit by the newly rebuilt fireplace and drink into oblivion. It was the first time he noticed peculiar activity in the house, yet he blamed the alcohol for it.

Slowly, day after day, Namjoon would lose his mind. It started off with strange whispers. The voice in his head, or so he thought, begged him to call Joori and bring her back, yet his pride would always stop after pressing the 6th digit of her parents’ landline.

Then it was tugs; from time to time, Namjoon would feel his shirt being tugged. It was challenging to explain with logic, but he opted for blaming the trauma for making him delusional. Namjoon would rather believe his brain was slowly frying itself than accept the supernatural entities.

At some point, he also started hearing distant giggles within the house and seeing shadows passing between walls, but the last straw that broke the camel’s neck was definitely his book of poems flying across the room, landing in the middle of the carpet, and then shredding into pieces right in front of his eyes. While a lot of events could be blamed on the strong drafts of wind or poor timely construction of the house, some things he witnessed were unexplainable.

Shortly after the incident, the entity residing in the house became violent – it wanted Namjoon away, and since he wasn’t going to leave like his wife, there was another way of getting rid of him.

Namjoon wanted to leave the house, reach out to Joori and start anew with her and their baby.

However, he never did.

On a Christmas morning, Joori paid him a visit and the things she witnessed traumatized her for life.

Namjoon’s suitcase was neatly packed, waiting by the doors to be picked up. The house was spotless, except for Namjoon’s study.

Walls were painted red with blood, Namjoon’s body dismembered – pieces of his body parts scattered all over the floor. Only his head was in scarless, resting on top of his desk, right next to his ripped poetry book.

No signs of forced entry, no motive, no evidence.

The police obviously closed the case, but Joori never felt at peace, still believing it was the entity that killed her husband.

And now, finally, the third Kim.

Kim Taehyung.

Not that long time ago, in 2007, the land was purchased by happy-go-lucky Kim Taehyung. At that time, Taehyung was only 19. He bought the house with his inheritance. Ever since little, he was very family-orientated, and when he had a chance to purchase a property, he didn’t hesitate.

Just like former residents, Taehyung didn’t sense anything odd; the omnipresent feeling of darkness came with time. However, even then, Taehyung would dismiss all the strange occurrences happening inside the house.

He had never been one to get scared easily, so a round of floor creaking or cold spots didn’t really impress him.

On the 17th of April, his girlfriend, Chanmi, slept over for the first time, and it was chilling.

According to her testimony, after their steamy sex session, she felt as if being watched. Later on that night, when they were sleeping, cuddling under the sheets, she heard distinctive steps downstairs.

Frightened, suspecting it was a burglar, she shook Taehyung awake, yet the moment he opened his eyes, the noise stopped. Complete undisturbed silence. To Taehyung, Chanmi seemed paranoid (and not accustomed to new surroundings), but he loved her dearly and checked the house, calming her.

Although Taehyung didn’t find anything, Chanmi already knew she didn’t feel welcomed – ever since that night, she made sure they would hang out at her place. Whatever it was that she sensed – it was pure evil.

On the 23rd of June, they had a big fight, and when Chanmi came over the next day to makeup, Taehyung was already gone.

His body was discovered in the bathroom on the second floor – he was lying in the bathtub, sharp pieces of mirror protruding from his wounded body.

Chanmi screamed and fell onto her knees.

But it wasn’t the worst thing about that day – the moment she started sobbing, Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, looked at her with his dead eyes, and in a throaty voice, he growled her name.

In a matter of seconds, Chanmi got back on her feet and bolted out of the house, swearing to herself that she’d never ever return there.

Though the police suspected a murder, deep down, Chanmi knew it was the evil’s doing. She never bothered mentioning that in her official statement, knowing the cops wouldn’t believe her.

Ever since Taehyung’s tragic death, the residence belongs to the city. Despite multiple proposals, it has never been sold.

And now, it’s our cue to investigate these haunted premises.

“You’re shitting me right now, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked me, probably both crept out and impressed. My research was thorough and off-putting at once, and I was sure it partially discouraged him from participating in the exploration.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve read that shit about the house, and you still wanna go there? What’s wrong with you? Only a psychopath can enjoy doing shit like that,” Jungkook argued, and I couldn’t find an answer right away.

I loved horror films and scary stories, mostly because I loved discrediting them and finding flaws in the storylines, and right now, I was about to do the same, but my subject was a real thing.

I didn’t have huge expectations – it was more than probable that we wouldn’t find anything, yet at the same time, it would be pretty dope to witness something strange. Jungkook shouldn’t be that worried – in the worst (best) scenario, we would get spooked by another team of amateur ghost hunters.

“Come on, Kook, grow a pair,” I started, trying to take our conversation on a less pressing level. It was just a silly ghost hunting gig, yet Jungkook sounded serious, almost as if we were going through the pros and cons of keeping a baby. “Ghost ain’t real; the scariest thing inside that house it probably bats,” I reasoned, and Jungkook agreed with a sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” Jungkook said, finally manning up for the mission. “Let’s get this shit over with,” he added when the vehicle stopped at our bus stop.

***

“So… what do you think?” I inquired when the murder house was within our eyesight; the building was spacious, and it really stood out amongst the other residences – no one could miss it. From quite a distance, you could see there was something evil about it, even the fence around the property was installed upside down, supposedly to lock the supernatural entities inside.

“It doesn’t look very welcoming if you ask me,” Jungkook started, scratching the back of his head, probably trying to come up with a good excuse to call it a day and just head over to Jiwoo’s party. “Just by the look of it, I can tell there’s something wrong about it,” he added, and I hummed in agreement.

“Are your spider-senses tingling again?” I asked, and Jungkook elbowed me lightly, not enjoying my teasing. “But for real now. Should we take a few selfies before going in?” I proposed, and Jungkook eagerly agreed, as if prolonging the inevitable reconnaissance.

Carefully, Jungkook wrapped his arm around my frame and snapped a few pictures with his phone, making sure the haunted house was standing proudly in the background. Then, he took another series of photos with my camera.

“If we’re seriously going in there, I think I need an intro for my Halloween special video, don’t you think?” Jungkook announced, pulling out his go-pro camera. After giving me a quick instruction, we started rolling.

At first, he reported what we were doing, but then, he started talking about the new segment of his channel, and my brain just froze. Although I respected his passion for gaming, I completely lost focus whenever he started blabbering about it. But honestly, I thought it was healthy for our friendship. We had a lot of things in common, yet it was a blessing to be different at some point. Whenever one of us felt a bit overwhelmed, we could engage in independent activities. For Jungkook, it was gaming – I’d never try crashing his nerdy party.

“I think we got it,” I announced when Jungkook’s mouth stopped barfing gaming jargon. “Let’s go inside.”

“Fine, but keep it in mind that if I die, I’m going to haunt your ass,” Jungkook stated, and I laughed. Right… as if this cinnamon roll could ever haunt anything.

“Puh-lease,” I retorted, trying to refrain myself from giggling. “If anything bad happened to you, you would be Kookie – the friendly ghost,” I finished, and Jungkook whined quietly, not fancying my opinion.

“Shut up,” Jungkook barked, pulling out the second fancy camera. If he were to step into that hellhole, he would gear himself up from head to toe, getting ready to catch the ghost on tape. “Let’s go in before I change my mind,” he added, as he effortlessly jumped over the fence.

“Will you help me? Not everyone has legs for days,” I mumbled as I extended my arms, so Jungkook could support me when I made my way through the first obstacle. “Thanks,” I quickly said when Jungkook grabbed me, and carefully put me on the ground.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve got a sexy pair of legs,” Jungkook complimented me, and though in other circumstances I’d blush, this time I ignored it, focusing on the vibration I felt in the butt pocket of my jeans.

The second I put my foot on the unholy soil, weird shit started happening.

Interesting.

My first thought was that I got a text message on my phone, but then it struck me that I always had my phone on silent mode. Quickly, I checked my cell phone, and it turned out that Siri turned itself on.

“What can I help you with?”

The device turned itself on again, but this time in my hand, when I didn’t push any buttons.

“It’s not a good sign,” Jungkook commented, and I started to second guess the brilliance behind my ingenious plan. “It’s not too late to turn around and leave. I won’t be disappointed if you chicken out,” he carried on, but I just grinned at him. There was no way I’d wimp out.

“Nice try; we’re going in,” I prompted, confidently walking toward the main entrance, Jungkook following behind me, probably shooting the surroundings.

As soon as we stepped onto the porch, the wood would start to creak underneath the pressure. Just like everything about the house, it gave off that creepy vibe.

“Showtime,” I whispered under my breath as I extended my hand and grabbed the knob. Just as expected, it was locked.

“Well… it looks like another sign to me. Let’s go back,” Jungkook spoke, trying once again to convince me to back out.

“Get a grip; we’re going in,” I ordered, and Jungkook sighed, regretting that he couldn’t say no to me. “I’m picking the lock; Betty in Riverdale does it all the time, it can’t be that difficult,” I muttered, reaching into my new fanny pack for a bobby pin.

“Are you for real? Since when anything they do in Riverdale makes any sense to you?” Jungkook wondered, but I just rolled my eyes, ignoring his mean comments. “You’re not opening that lock,” he added, making my blood boil. In times of crisis, Jungkook wasn’t very supportive.

“Just shut up, I almost got it,” I barked, sticking my tongue out, adjusting myself to my ultimate focus form, ignoring Jungkook and his shenanigans. Not only he showed me no support, but also he pulled out the small bottle of booze and took a gulp, without proposing me some.

“Just deal with it. We won’t get inside,” Jungkook teased again, pissing me off, and then leaning in, literally breathing on my neck.

“I really hate you right now,” I yelled at him as I straightened up, dropping my bobby pin in the process. “It was my only one,” I whined, kicking in doors in frustration, and to my surprise, it swung wide open.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook murmured, smiling sheepishly, moving aside.

“How gentlemanly of you,” I tsked, turning on the flashlight before entering the building. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to edit your video, deceiving people into thinking you’re a real macho man,” I complained, inspecting the foyer.

Nothing out of the ordinary. For now.

“I’ve got chills,” I stated matter-of-factly when the silence inside the house started to bother me. Though I didn’t believe in ghosts, for some stupid reasons, my heart rate quickened. I felt uneasy, and when I heard my voice echo across the room, I felt less crept out. “Which room should we check out first?”

“When I listened to you on the bus, all of them sounded awful,” Jungkook honestly answered while shedding some light around the living room. “If got rid of all the dust, it’d look pretty comfy,” he added, and I snorted, not expecting him to give me such a nonchalant comment.

Unfortunately, it seemed I was the jittery one.

Well… fuck.

“How about we check out Ouija board in Namjoon’s study,” I proposed, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“Maybe there’s still some blood left. You said it was pretty messy,” Jungkook added in excitement, making me wonder how the hell he did a 180 so fast. Not even two minutes ago, he acted like an adorable sacredly cat, but right now, he seemed confident enough to roundhouse kick all the demons back to hell.

“I doubt so, but it’s worth checking,” I answered, and we both headed to the east wing of the house, navigating toward Namjoon’s office. “It may sound ridiculous, but I’m getting horny,” I confessed, and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, gawking at me, not expecting such revelation.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist my manly charms,” Jungkook murmured cockily, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively. “I knew you would fall for me eventually.”

“Right… I’d rather believe a sex demon just possessed me,” I retorted, and for some reason, Jungkook didn’t find it funny. Come on, it was hilarious! “OK, I guess you’re kinda hot right now,” I gave in, unwillingly stroking his ego.

Not my fault, he was just irresistible.

“I knew it,” Jungkook cheered right before when we finally found the right room. This was it – the first space to be “properly” investigated.

Putting the flashlights on the desk, we set the Ouija board on the floor, sitting across from each other.

“Do you know how to use it?” Jungkook inquired, and I smiled sheepishly, telling him I knew bits and pieces, though I had absolutely no idea if my knowledge was legit since it all was based on multiple horror films I had seen. “I’ll check it online,” he proposed and pulled out his phone, quickly typing his inquiry into Google’s search tab. “Whoa, the signal here is no joke; I have a better connection than I have at my apartment. How expensive is this house again?”

“You’re really dumb, you know…”

“You love me regardless, so I don’t really care,” Jungkook absentmindedly replied while browsing through the answers. “OK, it’s easy.”

Briefly, Jungkook explained the ceremony. Apparently, the horror movies didn’t get everything wrong.

Unfortunately, the spirits inside Namjoon’s study weren’t chatty – during our session, they only edged the planchette toward the numbers 9 and 4 (the date of Namjoon’s settlement), yet I didn’t put much thought to it. Jungkook was probably moving it to scare me, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

“You know what? It’s not as exciting as I thought it would,” I started when we were collecting our stuff, getting ready to explore another room. For the majority of the time, nothing was happening. We were sitting just sitting in darkness, waiting for something to give us a real spook.

Later, we headed towards the second floor. The stairs were creaking as we made our way up, but we didn’t pay much attention to it, being too focused on locating the bathroom to actually think about basic safety.

The bathroom looked terrifying; the tiles inside were dirty, the original color already fading. The facilities were covered in rust and probably making a lot of unnecessary noises.

“Give me your flashlight,” Jungkook ordered as he put both torches on the edge of the bathtub, one of which switched on. “If there’s something that wants to communicate with us, turn the right one on, and turn off the left one,” Jungkook spoke loudly, waiting for the lights to change, and after some time one did.

“It was definitely a ghost,” I exclaimed in fake dread, bursting out laughing a second later. “It’s solid evidence; it’s confirmed – ghosts are real,” I added, and Jungkook joined me, chuckling adorably. “You can’t change my mind.”

“If it’s you, Taehyung, tell us what happened to you,” Jungkook carried on, and I grew silent, waiting for the ghost to reach out to us. “We don’t want to hurt you; we just want to know the truth. Who killed you?”

Silence.

“Come on, Taehyung. We don’t have all night; we’ve got places to be,” I urged the ghost in a taunting manner, hoping for something to finally happen. With each passing second, our expedition seemed more and more disappointing, and though I didn’t believe in ghosts, I’d really liked to be proven wrong.

“You’re weak sauce, Taehyung!” Jungkook mocked, reaching for the flashlights, wanting to explore another active part of the house – the basement. “You had your chance, Taehyung, and you blew it.”

We quickly left the bathroom and headed to the basement, yet just before we entered the room, I hesitated.

“Maybe we should investigate the basement individually,” I proposed, and Jungkook bit the inner side of his cheek, pondering over my suggestion.

“Fine, let’s do this,” Jungkook agreed with a sigh. “Do you want me to go first?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, and Jungkook pulled out the spirit box, a little bit excited to use it for the first time. “Go get ’em, tiger.” I patted Jungkook on the back, and closed the doors behind him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

The stairs creaked when Jungkook was walking down. For a while, it was oddly silent, but then I heard the loud white noise, and I knew Jungkook finally turned the device on.

While he was down there, I roamed around the ground floor, taking a few extra selfies. Unfortunately, regardless of the flashlight, it was still dark as fuck, and I was sure none of the taken photos were Instagram-worthy.

Ten minutes passed, yet Jungkook still didn’t get out.

“You can come out now,” I shouted, but I got no reply from Jungkook.

This fucker was messing with me. I knew him too well not to understand what he was trying to do. However, I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He wanted to scare me shitless, but he would never succeed.

Confidently, I swung the doors open and made my way downstairs.

“Have you found anything?” I asked when I noticed Jungkook standing in the corner of the room, facing the walls.

“Nope, it was boring as fuck.”

“OK, it’s my turn. Give me the spirit box,” I spoke eagerly, waiting for Jungkook to give me the gear. He survived the individual session with ghosts, so there was nothing to be afraid of. If ghouls didn’t eat Jungkook’s cute butt, I doubted they would be after mine.

“Good luck,” Jungkook murmured and leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss against my forehead before running upstairs.

OK. What the fuck?

With a slam, I was left alone in the basement, and frankly, right now, I didn’t give two shits about ghosts. What the fuck was that? Jungkook and I never showed any affection for one another. The most intimate interaction we had ever had was elbowing each other.

We didn’t kiss.

Never.

Not even an indirect kiss.

All the wires in my brain were frying. A whole army of ghosts might’ve jumped out of nowhere, and I wouldn’t give two shits about them. What the hell was Jungkook’s deal? Why did he do that?

Regardless of how much I desired to find evidence on ghosts, right now, my mind wasn’t in the right place. Thoughts of Jungkook, of how much I tried to not act on my attraction toward him, how I wanted him to make a move – they completely took over my sanity.

A full-body apparition might’ve as well started reciting Great Gatsby, and I wouldn’t notice it probably.

Trying to leave that horrifying train of thoughts, I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. Tonight was about ghosts, not about Jungkook.

Promptly, I turned on the spirit box, starling at how loud it roared to life.

Except for one beam of light coming out of my flashlight, it was entirely dark, and the white noise emitted by the device made the scene even more terrifying. I would undoubtedly faint if I didn’t like this dreadful atmosphere.

“Is anyone here?” I asked and looked around – everything seemed ordinary. Well… as ordinary as an abandoned house’s basement could be.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

“What the fuck was that?” I jerked my head to the side, staring at the device in my hand. It sounded like a male voice, yet I couldn’t quite comprehend the words. “Can you repeat that? You have to speak more clearly,” I spoke, refraining from face-palming myself.

What the hell was I thinking, talking to ghosts?

I must’ve really lost my mind.

“Behind.”

Once again, I jerked my head, furrowing my eyebrows. It really sounded like the word behind, so obviously, I turned around, checking if there’s something, in fact, behind me.

There wasn’t.

“I have to hear more than just one word,” I declared, focusing on the noise, ready to pick up another message. For a long while, the white noise was ringing in my ears, but then I heard something which sounded like my name.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Jungkook’s gonna love my footage, I wondered upon hearing these strange noises. Maybe it is not groundbreaking evidence, but it surely will be thrilling to watch. Jungkook’s followers will love the new content.

“You find me.”

“Oh my God, this is awesome,” I cheered enthusiastically, and though I was having the time of my life, it was time to take the fun to the next level. “Who am I talking to? What’s your name?”

“Kim.”

“That was an instant answer,” I commented, feeling goosebumps on my skin.

Much to my dismay, it was the last coherent response I got; I sat there alone in the darkness and received only a few unintelligible reads. So much for ghost hunting… I thought, ready to leave the basement.

Checking the time on my phone, I realized I had two more minutes, and though it was pointless to reach out to ghosts at this point, I decided to record my useless commentary. Maybe Jungkook would use my witty monologue as a part of his YouTube clip, or if not, he’d have a good laugh when analyzing all the footage from this night.

“So… I’ve been sitting in the darkness for a while, and no ghost dared to give me a spook. It’s such a disappointment, really. These ghosts here are real wimps; I lured Jungkook inside this basement, and this may come as a big shocker to everyone, but nothing really happened to him –“

[BANG!]

Quickly, I turned my head around, trying to locate the source of the strange noise; it sounded as if it was coming from under the stairs, yet I quickly dismissed the disturbance – it must’ve been a rat or something.

Clearly, it wasn’t a ghost.

“As I was saying… this house is a complete bummer. When we first arrived, the house looked really nerve-racking, but when we actually started exploring it, it let us down. Honestly, the scariest part of this expedition probably was when Jungkook failed to prank me.”

“Your time is up,” having opened the doors, Jungkook hollered. “I’m going down there,” he added, and I turned around, giving Jungkook a chance to record my grand exit on tape.

“I’m getting outta here, ghosts. You are a bunch of wimps!”

“Did you just seriously mock the ghosts?” Jungkook asked, giggling adorably.

“Why not? It’s not like they’re going to kill me for calling them out.”

“Should we leave now? I’d stay for a little longer and recorded some weird random shit. What do you think?”

“It’s definitely gonna piss these ghosts, so I am in.”

At first, Jungkook insisted I record him dance a few Fortnite choreographies, and though I had no clue what he was doing, I kept the camera rolling. Then, I turned music on my phone, and we jammed to old K-POP hits like Super Junior’s Bonamana, SHINEE’s Lucifer, f(x)’s Electric Shock, and many others.

Then Jungkook made me record his beatbox performance, and it was torture. However, there was a silver lining – it helped me determine whether ghosts were real or not. The answer was no – no one would endure it.

And if it wasn’t for my crush on him, I’d definitely not endure it either.

Later that evening, Jungkook gave a short instruction video on how to defend oneself with basic taekwondo moves, and then we thumb-wrestled.

“You know what would really piss the ghosts off?” Jungkook inquired, and I wondered what else his one brain cell came up with since I highly doubted if it could get any dumber than it already had.

“I don’t know… what else would really piss the ghosts off?” I answered, having no idea what we could do to outdo ourselves. Everything that we had done for the past hour was already offensive as fuck.

“Isn’t it absolutely the worst when you’re in a public place, minding your business when you walk past a couple making out right in front of you?”

“It is absolutely the worst, but how is it any relevant?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow in confusion. Jungkook was right, making out openly in public was rude, and obnoxious, and one of my biggest pet peeves, yet I highly doubted the ghosts had the same hierarchy of irritating situations. They’re dead, and they can haunt people without any consequences – that’s pretty dope itself, and I just couldn’t understand why it would be their top bête noire.

“Well… it’s not completely irrelevant, and besides, ever since you’ve mentioned you’re horny, I really wanted to kiss you,” Jungkook confessed, and my jaw dropped at the revelation. Jungkook wanted to do what!?

“Well… you just played yourself,” I stated, and Jungkook creased his forehead in confusion. “Is that a confession you’ve just recorded? I bet you want to record our kiss, too. That’s kinky, and weirdly enough, it turns me on a little bit,” I finished my thought, and then Jungkook smiled widely at me, figuratively lighting up the rundown basement which we were still in.

“Well… now you just really have to kiss me,” Jungkook retorted, and I smiled mischievously, curious of how he’s going to play his cards now, “unless you want me to show your parents a video of you confessing to your kinks.”

“Well… you should’ve waited a little bit longer, maybe I would’ve named all the other kinks I’m into,” I challenged, biting my bottom lip seductively. “If you really want our first kiss to be in this shabby, totally not haunted basement, then go for it,” I consented, waiting for him to approach me and knock the air out of my lungs with a world-shattering kiss.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not exactly what you deserve, but it will be a hell of a story to tell our grandchildren one day. Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself,” I retorted, chuckling. Jungkook was acting ridiculous, and it was adorable. With his cute smile and firm butt, he could get away with anything. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

At first, I expected him to say something cringe-worthy like m’lady or alrighty, but thankfully, I was wrong. With one long stride, Jungkook approached me, resting his large hand on my hips before leaning in to kiss me.

The kiss was sensual and soft, and the way I had always imagined. Gently, Jungkook pressed his plump lips against mine, and we just moved, basking in pleasure. His hand was roaming over my back and butt, whereas mine was going through his silky hair, tousling it.

Gradually, it grew in passion. Jungkook pulled me closer against him, and I opened my mouth, inviting his tongue. Though it was only one kiss, it was quickly making me thirsty for more.

It felt blissful, yet it came to an abrupt stop when we heard a loud bang upstairs.

“Well… you were right, it obviously pissed someone off,” I whispered, chuckling.

“What do you think it was?” Jungkook asked, concerned about the strange noise. “It sounded as if someone just slammed the doors shut,” Jungkook stated, and I quickly agreed with him.

“But we left the doors closed, didn’t we?” I wondered, trying to remember our previous actions. Neither one of us was perfectly sober, yet I was pretty sure we did close the doors. “OMG, this is awesome! It was probably another group of adrenaline-seeking people! We could give them the spook of their life if we jumped out of the basement,” I explained, and I was sure I wasn’t perfectly sober right now either.

“It was probably the wind, but okay, let’s do this,” although knowing it was a stupid idea, Jungkook agreed to conduct my improvised prank.

Carefully, we made our way upstairs, yet when we jumped out of our hideaway, there was nobody there.

“Stupid wind,” I murmured under my breath, really bummed out by this whole situation. “Fuck you, you stupid house. You’ve wasted our time,” I hollered at nothing in particular as I approached the doors and pulled the knob. “Jungkook, it won’t open,” I announced, taking a step to the side, letting Jungkook’s strength to let us out.

Seriously, what kind of an estate agent would try to sell this house without repairing it first? At this point, only people from these HGTV shows would consider buying it, so they could later sell it with real profit.

At first, the doors didn’t want to budge either, but then he handed me his camera and roundhouse-kicked the doors open.

Whoever locked the doors, be it the wind, the ghost, or anyone else, Jungkook’s thick thighs were more powerful.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungkook said as he grabbed my hand and led me outside, leaving the creepy though definitely not haunted house behind us.

***

Although the navigation system on my phone estimated our route to take us forty-five minutes on foot, Jungkook and I made that distance under half an hour. The house was creepy, but we were already late for Jiwoo’s party, and we didn’t want to face her wrath.

She had called me three times, and Jungkook and I lived in a universe where three missed calls from Jiwoo were more terrifying than fifty from mom.

When we reached Jiwoo’s house, we tried knocking on the doors, but unfortunately for us, everybody was already in a good mood. They couldn’t hear the knocks due to loud music, and I couldn’t be angry – it was our punishment for arriving so late.

Thankfully, when we walked the house around, the patio doors were open, so we got inside.

The house was packed with people, yet I was familiar with only a few of them – the majority of guests were Jiwoo’s college friends, and I haven’t yet acquainted them. In the kitchen, I saw Mario and Luigi, and I instantly knew it was Yoongi and Hoseok. Each year they have adorable couple costumes.

“Look who’s finally showed up,” I heard a loud voice from over the stairs, leading to the second floor. It was Daphne, closely followed by Fred.

“I guess Daphne and Fred just checked the bedroom,” I told Jungkook, and he chuckled, getting the reference. “I hope they didn’t find any ghosts.”

“I bet Scooby and Shaggy are already eaten by the ghost in the basement,” Jungkook carried on, and we both started to laugh.

“Your costumes are in my bedroom, but before you change, I have to feed us some jello shots,” Jiwoo started, making us follow her to the kitchen. “In which bushes were you two fucking, so you came so late?” She questioned, but Jungkook and I didn’t know how to reply. Jiwoo was unpredictable – she would either scold us for going to that house without her, or just shout at us for being reckless and irresponsible, but I guess it was her role in our friend circle.

She was the mom friend.

“We weren’t fucking,” I protested quickly, trying to buy us some time to get a better excuse for our late arrival. “If we were indeed fucking, we would be here before anyone else,” I joked, yet Jungkook didn’t find it particularly funny.

It didn’t worry me, though. Jungkook and I dissed each other daily, he wasn’t going to pout. If anything, he was plotting how to get his revenge.

“Well… true,” Jiwoo replied as she high-fived me. “Don’t worry, Kookie. I’m just messing with you,” she added, and I nodded, knowing she was extra mean to impress Jimin. Retorts weren’t her strongest suit, but so far, it was okay.

Jiwoo distributed the jello shots among the four of us, and to my surprise, they weren’t as strong as I had expected them to be. She had made them, and it came to me as a shock, then the proportions weren’t fifty-fifty.

“Oh my God, I just noticed you both have matching costumes. What a coincidence!” Jungkook hollered, faking his surprise, taking revenge on Jiwoo.

“What can I say? Great minds think alike,” Jiwoo quickly retorted before Jungkook managed to embarrass her in front of her crush.

“Some things are just meant to be,” Jimin added, draping his arm over Jiwoo’s shoulder, making me and Jungkook gag. What the hell had we missed?!

We had totally wasted our time in that haunted house – we could have been here, watching their relationship develop in front of our eyes! Though I had no regrets after reaming around that disappointing trip to that house, now I had one regret. I was genuinely upset that I missed witnessing how the line between their friendship and love faded away.

“OK, you know what? Go upstairs and change. You disgust me without your costumes on,” Jiwoo ordered, shooing us upstairs.

Obediently, we headed to her bedroom, finding our costumes on her bed.

“I’m so tired,” I announced as I plopped down onto her bed, wanting to get some rest. The march from one location to another was more exhausting than I had initially thought, and my legs were killing me.

“Well… it’s all your fault, I told to we should call an Uber,” Jungkook replied, lying on the bed next to me. “No slacking,” Jungkook hollered, playfully slapping my butt. “If we don’t get downstairs in a few minutes, Jiwoo’s gonna bust in here and complain how we ruin her party.”

“True,” I agreed, and with a loud groan, I stood up to get changed. “And that reminds me. You’ve never told me what you’re dressing as this year,” I spoke, wondering what was inside the bag which was sitting next to my costume.

“I didn’t have time to come up with anything, so I asked Jimin to lend me his costume from last year. He was Jack Sparrow or something,” he explained, and I watched him unpacking the bag.

“Or something it is,” I started when I saw what his costume consisted of. It was basically a deep-cut white shirt, a pair of tight leather trousers, and a hat. “Good luck with fitting into it,” I snickered, wondering how uncomfortable it’s going to look like on his powerful thighs.

“Why don’t you shut up,” Jungkook said, not pleased with my commentary.

In silence, we got dressed, and since my costume wasn’t revealing, I could quickly put it on my clothes, which gave me plenty of time to gawk at Jungkook.

“I feel like a piece of meat, right now,” Jungkook commented, as he caught me staring at him, zipping his trousers. “Can you stop staring at me like that? I’m a person with feelings, not a sex toy.”

“Now you know how all girls in clubs feel,” I retorted and continued to stare at him shamelessly. Right now, I only needed a bucket of popcorn and a few bills which I could put under the hem of his pants.

“Aren’t you going to put that creepy make-up?”

“I was going to, but I don’t have energy nor patience to do that,” I answered lazily, watching him button his shirt. “Besides, I checked myself in the mirror, and I’m rocking that Mary-Eunice look right now,” I added, and Jungkook agreed, approving my American Horror Story costume.

“You know what? Even when you wear that ridiculous nun costume, I would still fuck you,” Jungkook blatantly confessed, and I giggled, not knowing how to react to this odd compliment. “I really must be wrapped around your little finger. You even made me go to that abandoned house.”

“You make me blush,” I admitted shyly before approaching him. Then, standing on my toes, I pecked his lips innocently. “We better go downstairs, Jiwoo must be furious at us for taking so long,” I added, exiting the room, leaving Jungkook speechless behind me.

Though at first, we were too tired to party hard, Jimin and Jiwoo engaged us in a few drinking games, and I was thankful I managed to bullshit myself out of playing truth and dare with them.

I realized what Jiwoo would make me do or confess, and I’d rather Jungkook find it out in different, more private, circumstances.

Around three a.m., people slowly started to get tired, one by one heading upstairs to either fuck each other’s brains out or simply find an empty bed to sleep in. At that time, Jungkook and I were chilling in the kitchen, munching on the food which other guests had the courtesy of leaving.

“We should go on a date on Saturday,” Jungkook proposed, and I looked him in the eyes, nodding my head. “What do you want to do on our first date?” He asked, leaning against the countertop next to me.

“Is there any chance you’re wearing this outfit on our first date?” I asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head. I teased him all night about this outfit, and by now, he must’ve dreamed about taking it off at least a dozen times. Best case scenario: taking it off right in front of already naked me.

“Nope, stare at me while you still can,” Jungkook said, and I didn’t dare to question his decision. Though he looked like a snack, I respected his choice. He wasn’t going to wear it again, and I wasn’t going to force him. Besides, I was kind of curious about how he looked naked. “So… what do you want to do on Saturday? Bowling? A candlelight supper? Cinema?”

“I was gonna say that anything is fine as long as it’s with you, but would you really prepare a candlelight supper for me?” I questioned, quite amazed by his proposition. Jungkook rarely cooked himself, and even if he happened to whip something up in the kitchen, it would be ramen or something just as easy to make.

“Of course, anything,” Jungkook promised, and I tried my very best right not to kiss him. “It probably won’t be any tasty, but at least, I made it with my hands.”

Oh, screw it.

Instantly, I pulled him closer, smashing my lips against his. The moment he realized what I was doing, he reciprocated the kiss.

“I don’t really care,” I spoke, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Oh, shit,” I cursed upon noticing Jiwoo and pushed Jungkook away.

“I think everybody’s asleep already, what are you guys still doing here?” She asked, eyeing the both of us.

“Nothing, we were just eating,” I stated, though Jiwoo didn’t fully believe in my innocent reply. “What have you been up to? Your green scarf is gone, and you have a hickey on your neck. Have you had fun with Jimin?” I inquired, and she looked away in embarrassment.

Jiwoo had never been to shy away, but she didn’t act like herself around Jimin. When with him, she became a better person, and right now, she was blushing. It was the first time when I saw her behaving like that, and I liked it.

With Jimin by her side, Jiwoo was slowly turning in the best version of herself, and the transition was crystal clear. Even Jungkook wouldn’t miss it.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow; right now, I just want to clean up and go to bed,” Jiwoo said, and I knew it was our cue to live. I didn’t like cleaning, and I knew Jiwoo wouldn’t appreciate my help. She would prefer Jimin’s assistance. “You’re sleeping in the guest room with Yoongi and Hoseok.”

“Thanks,” I replied, and we slowly headed to the guest room, knowing that Jimin would shortly join Jiwoo. They thought they were subtle, but they really weren’t. One look was enough, and Jungkook and I knew everything.

“I hope Yoongi and Hoseok already fucked each other,” Jungkook stated before we entered our room, and I agreed. I wouldn’t like to walk on them fucking. I just wanted to lie down and get some sleep.

***

On Friday, I focused only on myself. I needed to recover fully after a long night of drinking, but also, I wanted to pamper myself a little bit before my date with Jungkook. I was sure he was going to prepare everything to perfection, like the golden boy he has always been, and it only made sense that his girlfriend (me) also ought to be perfect.

I took a long, relaxing bath, I wore a face mask, I ate plenty of fruit, I planned my next week of college, I even turned on the relatively new drama with Ji Changwook, and whipped up a mug of cocoa with marshmallows.

The day was peaceful, and I cherished every second of it before I had to face reality and go to classes on Monday.

In the evening, I even chatted with Jiwoo, listening to a few newest rumors. I didn’t expect her to have any time to spare, but apparently, to her, gossip was more important than her new boyfriend. Good thing she had her priorities set straight.

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | omg you won’t believe it!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | I know why Seulgi and Irene didn’t come

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | apparently

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | they were on a date yesterday!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | Chanyeol told Jimin that Jongin were their Uber driver and he took them to a fancy restaurant

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | I was gonna get really mad

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | but I ship them so hard

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | I mean…

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:23 | fucking finally

Jiwoo wasn’t ashamed of double texting, obviously. If she had gossip to deliver, she would spam anyone until she would get a reply, and frankly, it never upset me. Mostly because I was texting the same way.

Me | 17:25 | told you

Me | 17:25| I knew they had hots for each other

Me | 17:26 | you should be glad they didn’t come

Me | 17:26 | they probably fucked all night long

Me | 17:27 | that would be gross if they did it at your place

Me | 17:27 | it’s enough that Jungkook and I walked on Yoongi and Hoseok

Me | 17:28 | if it was my house I’d kick them out

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:30 | they did what????

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:31 | are you kidding me???

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:31 | so Jimin lied to me

Me | 17:32 | wow

Me | 17:32 | you started dating and he’s already lying

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:33 | Jimin told me they behaved well

Me | 17:34 | pls don’t make a scene

Me | 17:35 | you better let them taste their own medicine

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | I knew I shouldn’t have invited them

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | they’re cute but also horny af

With Jiwoo, when we started texting, we didn’t know how to stop. Topics would come and go, and we would always come up with something new. This night wasn’t any different. When we discussed everyone’s behavior during the party, late changing the subject to the people who couldn’t make it. Then, we would exchange messages about the newest K-POP hits, scandals, and dramas. Sometimes, we would even send memes to one another.

Usually, we would continue our conversation until one of us was tired and went to sleep, but tonight a bizarre text from Jungkook made me finish.

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | come over

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | now

Well… rude.

We didn’t even go on our first date yet, and he treated me like a booty call.

No, it couldn’t be.

Me | 21:42 | what do you mean???

Me | 21:42 | Jeon Jungkook

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:42 | get your juicy ass over here

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | asap

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | you need to see something

What the hell did he want? Couldn’t he wait until tomorrow to meet me? If he wanted to see me, he could just text me like he a regular person. He didn’t have to act like an asshole about it.

Me | 21:45 | fine

Me | 21:45 | I’ll be in thrity

Me | 21:46 | if it’s your dick that I need to see you’re dead

***

Within thirty minutes, I was at Jungkook’s apartment, breathing heavily. His flat was located on the fourth floor, and the elevator was out of order, and whenever I had to take the stairs, I could feel blood on my tongue.

It wouldn’t hurt me that much to tag along once in a while to the gym with Kook. Well… hopefully.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked instantly when Jungkook swung the doors open. “Jungkook, I swear, if it’s a booty call, I’m gonna be pissed,” I warned him when Jungkook grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Jungkook reassured me as he led me to his bedroom.

Well… he might’ve said it wasn’t a booty call, yet his actions were giving me a totally different message. He was literally dragging me to his bedroom.

“What is going on?” I asked once again, as he made me sit in his gaming chair.

“So… I was editing the footage we recorded at this creepy house, and I found some weird shit,” he started before he leaned against the desk, looking for the right file to show me. “I watched every frame of these tapes, and there’s something seriously wrong with your individual session in the basement.”

“What do you mean by wrong? Can you be more specific? I didn’t feel nor see anything weird when I was down there,” I said, cocking my eyebrows up in utter confusion. Was there something my eye didn’t catch, but the camera did?

“Well… there is like a shadow lingering above you,” Jungkook confessed, and I fought the urge to laugh into his face. It was a shadow, and shadows do linger. “You don’t seem convinced, so why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Ugh, fine,” I answered, focusing on the screen.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Jungkook was right. It lasted for a couple of seconds; there was an irregular black specter behind me, and it couldn’t be my shadow – I was perfectly still while it moved for a while, and then disappeared.

It was terrifying.

“I’m speechless.”

Seeing my reaction, Jungkook sat on the edge of the desk and grabbed my hand.

“I know it looks like something supernatural, but I’m pretty sure it can be explained somehow. Don’t worry; all fellow ghost hunters would discredit this evidence in seconds.”

“I’m not worried; I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not worry,” I spoke, still a little shook about the discovery. “Did you find anything else when editing?” I inquired, wondering if Jungkook had more aces up his sleeve.

“Nothing solid,” he declared with a sigh. “I was listening to the messages picked up by the spirit box, and one statement which you assumed unintelligible sounds like not alone, but once again, it’s not perfectly clear. It’s probably just my mind interpreting the white noise.”

“Too bad ghosts ain’t real. If we caught it on tape, we would be millionaires,” I confessed, and Jungkook nodded.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think we’ve gathered a lot of entertaining footage; my viewers are going to love it. It’s probably the dumbest video I’ve ever recorded,” Jungkook spoke, and I started to grin.

He was right – we were a great duo.

“Glad, I could help,” I answered proudly, boasting about my recording skills. Having tooted my own horn for an inappropriate amount of time, I inquired, “Since I’m already here, what do you want to do?”

“How about we cuddle?” Jungkook proposed, plopping on his bed, waiting for me to join him, and since his proposition was irresistible, I obediently lay down beside him, resting my head on his firm chest. “Mm… it’s so comfy,” Jungkook purred as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

“Have you decided where you’re taking me tomorrow?” I inquired, curious as hell about our date. Knowing Jungkook and how perfect he was at everything he did, I could only guess he would exceed my wildest expectations.

“How is it gonna sound if I tell you I’ve already had it planned out for a while?” Jungkook confessed, and I giggled when he started to press delicate kisses across my neck. It was ticklish, but I liked being teased like that.

“Is there a chance you tell me? You know I hate surprises,” I spoke, turning around on my side, caressing Jungkook’s chest and abs. Jungkook smiled adorably and shook his head. Damn it. “Is there a chance I can guess it?” I tried a different approach, but Jungkook shook his head once again.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Jungkook said, and I pouted.

“Is there a chance I can convince you to tell me now?” I challenged him, and before he managed to shake his head again, I sat astride on his muscular thighs, making him speechless. “You can tell me. I can pretend I’m surprised tomorrow,” I urged him, playfully moving my hips against his crotch. Curiosity was in my nature, and Jungkook was really getting under my skin with his stubbornness.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” Jungkook stated before he effortlessly flipped us over, pinning me down to the mattress. “I’d love to push you to your limits, but I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“Come on, Jungkook. You can tell me. We’re best friends, and we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I carelessly mumbled until Jungkook shut me up with a passionate kiss, reminding me that we no longer were just best friends.

With my eyes closed, I gave in entirely, letting Jungkook’s hands roam all over my body. Our mouths moved in sweet harmony while my body writhed beneath him every time his little touches set my skin on fire.

This moment was magical, and I wished every time with Jungkook to be just as good. His smooth and soft movements made my body respond, leaving me breathless and craving for me whenever it lost contact with his hands.

“I really want to fuck you right now,” Jungkook absentmindedly confessed while he was pressing sensual kisses along my chin. “We should wait, shouldn’t we?” I inquired, and I wanted to shout my objection.

Judging by his boner digging into my thigh, he also wanted me to oppose.

“You should’ve thought about it before you kissed me like that,” I replied, and Jungkook smirked, tugging my blouse out of my jeans, slipping his large hands on my bare stomach, slowly making his way up to my breasts. “It’s too late to go back, lover boy,” I added, undoing the buttons of my blouse.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Drop dead,” I corrected him, and Jungkook hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on my cleavage, wondering how my breasts bounce. Arching my back, I wrapped my hands around Jungkook’s hips, pressing them against me, making me feel his throbbing cock.

“You won’t be a good girl, will you?” Jungkook asked me, and I bit my lip, shaking my head, hoping he expected such an answer. “Of course, you won’t. Why did I even ask?” Jungkook smirked, playfully nibbling my delicate skin all over my cleavage, while his hand undid the button of my jeans.

“You always assume the worst when it comes to me,” I reminded him, tugging the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to get rid of it. It wasn’t fair – I was almost half-naked while Jungkook was still fully-clothed. “Take it off, I’m losing my patience,” I ordered, and Jungkook quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing in on the floor. “Jeans, too,” I added, and with an angry growl, Jungkook stood up and discarded his pants as well.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, standing in front of me only in a pair of boxers.

“Over the moon,” I retorted, and Jungkook smirked as a playful idea crossed his mind. “What are you thinking about?” I questioned uncertainly, but Jungkook didn’t bother to reply. He just leaned forward, slid his fingers under the hem of my jeans, and pulled them down in one fluid motion.

“You make me impatient,” he confessed, and I kneeled on the bed, waiting for him to join me again. I needed him to kiss every inch of my body.

Right now.

“Come here,” I urged him, and he obediently sat on the bed, allowing me to sit astride on him again. “I wanna fuck you like this,” I blurted out, entwining my fingers behind Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer into another heated kiss.

“I want you to fuck me like this,” Jungkook whispered when we finally parted. “Just jump on it and ride me until I come,” he said before reaching to his night stand for a condom. “Roll it down for me, will you?”

Obediently, I pulled Jungkook’s boxers down, and smeared the pre-cum all over his thick cock before putting a condom.

“I wanted it for so long,” Jungkook whispered when I raised my hips, slowly getting seated on his length. Though Jungkook didn’t go down on me before I took his cock, I didn’t mind it. It stung a little, but I enjoyed this sensation.

“Fuck yeah,” I moaned when I slid down his length all the way to the base. For a short while, neither of us moved, letting one another get used to it. “You stretch me up so fine,” I muttered, gently rolling my hips.

“Move, princess,” Jungkook urged me, and I began to ride him. At first, my actions were delicate and a little shy, but as soon as I relaxed, I picked up the pace, rocking my hips back and forth, making Jungkook moan loudly.

“I love it when men are vocal,” I confessed when I put my hands in his hair, tugging it slightly when I happened to fall out of my rhythm. “It gets me off much faster,” I added, and as if I challenged him, Jungkook moaned again.

“Good to know; now I gotta use this information to my advantage,” Jungkook whimpered with a soft smirk upon his face. “You love hearing my deep moans, don’t you?” Jungkook asked, and I replied in a heartbeat.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when Jungkook began thrusting his hips from underneath, shoving his cock deeper and deeper inside of me. “Ahh… Jung-Jungkook, keep fucking me like that, please, don’t stop,” I begged, and Jungkook even increased his pace, quickly making me overwhelmed in pleasure.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook started, and I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With a couple of thrusts, I would come around his pulsating cock, and I couldn’t wait to welcome this blissful feeling. “So tight, yet you take my fat cock so well,” he praised, and I pulled his hair when he made me come.

“Fuck, Jungkook, that was amazing,” I praised him, and Jungkook kept ramming his dick inside of me, chasing his own release. His stamina was no joke, and I was feeling lucky because this incredible man was mine.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m coming.” Shortly after me, Jungkook reached his orgasm, milking the condom with his jizz. “You’re out of this world,” Jungkook whispered before he wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing me deeply.

We were both sticky with sweat, and we smelled like sex, but right now, I couldn’t care any less. Jungkook and I were floating in heaven.

“We should do it again in the morning,” Jungkook proposed, and I laughed, realizing it was the first time in my life I was actually excited to wake up early.

Unfortunately, our plans fell through.

Before my arrival, Jungkook had uploaded our Halloween clip into his YouTube channel, and then, Jimin forwarded it to Jiwoo.

Needless to say, Jiwoo blew up my inbox with notifications, furious at me and Jungkook for doing something so reckless shit without her supervision. Once again, she was the mom friend, and going into an abandoned house without her knowing was pure evil.

Thankfully, she didn’t hold a grudge for a long time – she grew pretty soft on us as soon as she discovered Jungkook and I were well… dating.

#jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #fpwritingchallenge #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook scenario #bts halloween #bts halloween special #halloween special #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jengguk fanfiction #haunted house au #ghost au #ghost hunters au

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feysooah · 4 years

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HIHI !

I go by Fany & she/her -- it’s been a looong time since I rped so honestly pretty excited to be here and get this muse on the road :> no lie it’ll probably take me a bit to adjust and get in the groove of things so forgive my extra slowness but I’d love to plot n chat with all of you peeps like actually please lets !! do have a profile page up you’re free to check ( still being worked on shh ), and a rules page that’s really just more an info dump about rping with this mun & muse and some stuff about me in general if you’re curious ye

don’t have any plots up for grabs sadly, yet, but brainstorming is much welcome

here’s some tidbits about muse that might be helpful in the meanwhile tho ;

to start off, where she actually comes from;

From where her lineage diverged the Gwan bloodline has notoriously been known as very powerful divination magick practitioners within the Kyegeum house

alongside being super cordial with other houses and often the other genera as well, but generally aloof in matters that did not strictly concern them. this extended to the normal world and society as well

this was especially true for her grandpa, Gwan Youngchul

who ended up being turned in a surprise attack from a werewolf when the man had been out with his familiar companion -- Seok -- who despite best efforts could not save the witch from this sudden fate, could not stop their treasured bond severing

and despite managing to keep Youngchul alive through the whole ordeal, it would not take long ( if anything, suspiciously quick ) for a certain group of hunters to get whiff of the circumstance and swiftly rid off the ex-witch

Perhaps one bright side to look at was that he was able to communicate last wishes, some of which had already been written on letters hidden for the chance of an unlucky situation such as the one they were currently in arising. one of the wishes being a plea to protect his only daughter Jiyeong

At a tender age of seventeen Jiyeong took the news with surprising grace, not to say she wasn’t devastated and cried but what seemed to be request of her father to bond with his familiar was accepted after a moment of thinking it over, and bonding ritual decided to take place within the week

Jiyeong’s mother had been the one to mainly oversee her training once abilities started manifesting, a Kyegeum witch herself, with very different abilities compared to her husband

It was perhaps no surprise then that Jiyeong became very adamant not long after father’s death to focus studies and abilities on what her father had been so revered for; divination

something his older sister, Jiyeong’s aunt, was known for as well and gladly helped the girl with alongside taking the widowed family under her wing and protection

Jiyong followed after her father’s footsteps in many other things, most notably making friends and upholding favorable relations to the other houses, other genera as well

was endlessly fond of nature magic too, had an abundance of flowers and plants in every nook and cranny, a beautiful garden she tended to with care

many would even say she was touched by the sun itself, vibrant and warm soul she was, nurturing not with only plants but people themselves

eventually met a man who slowly swept Jiyeong off her feet, and not but a few years later they had a child, naming her Sooah. my muse. we’ll get to her in a bit I promise ._.

the man aka Dad is a human, just plain ole’ human. orphaned at a young age so while they wouldn’t know for certain if he has any sliver of witchy magic in him it’s unlikely

insists he fell in love with Jiyong at first sight pretty much. which is frankly understandable she was such a lovely person ;u;

was surprisingly chill about all the, well, witch stuff and whatnot, very curious too but also did want her to be careful and if possible not be that involved with that world

for about next 10 years things went on fairly normally, ya know, living the happy family life, going to work, mingling with the magical side of society

then she started getting sick every so often, out of the blue, however nothing even remotely seeming serious. though it was odd for a witch to be affected with flu so often

she didn’t think it was serious itself, and had a habit of hiding it in the beginning too when it wasn’t even noticeable

until it got to the point it simply could not be ignored, could not be just a passing small thing, could not be cured by any means she knew

and the next thing anyone else knew she was gone. almost like someone had reached and snuffed out her flame, just like that

where in the story we get to Sooah, so;

her early life wasn’t that special in honesty, if you don’t count all the stories her mother told about the secret magical world she too would be part of one day, and the lineage she was to inherit, abilities she would discover, all to be learned together

she had been a deviously curious child, daydreaming every other moment and next begging to see if even take part in what her mother was doing with her own magick

Sooah was quite interested in the guy sometimes accompanying her too, a friendly face she’d grown to know as Seok who she had learned eventually was mom’s bonded familiar, a fact she was entirely too excited about. but who also was before bonded to her grandpa that the girl never got to meet herself

would not fail to mention to him many times how she was going to one day find a familiar to bond with too, someone who was fun and kind and wanted to go on adventures and they would be the bestests of friends ever. and definitely cooler than him

she was always eager to understand and practice the power inside her in general, which she was starting to more and more by the days, before the sudden passing of her mother

it broke her :<

dad too, for a while he was nothing but basically a walking shell. she’s sure neither of them really truly recovered

backtracking just a lil because one very, very important notion was the familiar was of course bound to die soon along with the mom, Sooah was well aware of the fact by then and while she was stricken by grief at the time she was dedicated to finding him, no real plan in mind but urgent to know he was okay, like it would somehow make the situation any better

she did end up meeting him, understandably shaken himself but apparently already accepted own fate-- which at the moment did not sit well with her at all and Sooah, not even yet 14 years old, decided she was not going to let him just wither away and die alone how horrible would that be, how sad for that to be the end when her mom had exuded everything opposite, she was not going to let that happen no matter what

which meant the only thing she could actually do was to bond with Seok and by sheer force of will and maybe some tears - definitely some tears - did manage to convince for him to agree to it

a whole mess

she doesn’t regret it one bit, absolutely refuses to, yet does occasionally wonder if it was the right thing to do or even fair to him

but ultimately she’s glad he is in her life, aiding in any matter she may require, definitely now seen as a big brother she never had-- if she’s not too busy calling him grandpa bc seriously he’s old as all fuck. it still surprises her from time to time

( okay but it is hilarious to think Seok going from being as old as he was, looking about 40 to then having a 14 year old’s body lmaoo )

bless the grandma tho she was really a rock in this emotional time, even though she was dealing with the loss of her daughter, after having lost her husband so early in their lives too !

she kinda took over seeing to Sooah’s teaching and helping in any other way as well, more than welcoming to having her stay over for however long she needed or wanted to

she’s still thankfully alive and has a good relationship with both Sooah and Seok ;u;

Dad on the other hand.

they have both moved out of the house the family used to occupy with mom, into their own places

also have a somewhat strained relationship nowadays, more to do with his insistence on getting her to quit all the witch stuff cause it’s dangerous yadda yadda and she’s obviously not going to do that

not to say she’s not paranoid herself, and knowing how both her mom and grandpa died barely halfway into their lives even more so

it’s not only made her fearful of same fate but made her swear to stay away from any sort of divination magic if she can help it, somehow convinced that to be a factor in all of it

does have randomly prophetic dreams though, but nothing that has been major or necessarily that important so she’s.. okay with that. kinda. does keep a dream journal just in case

It’s coming up 10 years after the mom’s death, so I’m sure there’s been some rumors or other witches wondering if the Gwan family was just cursed or something, probably mostly from older and the more traditional types. doesn’t help Soaah’s dad being a plain human. or that she’s not sure if that might just actually be the case oof

as thus she’s definitely a lot more withdrawn when it comes to the other houses, or even Kyegeum themselves, doesn’t exactly feel like part of the community if you will

but is friendly to everyone and usually can be outwardly seen as having nothing weird or unusual going on beyond what you’d expect of a typical witch in this day and age

designs and sometimes makes jewelry for The Gem Lab actually, or if an individual knows to ask her personally Sooah does take custom work too ! and yes they all have very carefully picked gems or crystals, often imbued with enchantments of basic protection or if one wants something very specific she can probably do it

is kinda rich?? like grandpa was very up in there and left part of his inheritance to the mom, who of course left part of hers to Sooah. who doesn’t really like using that money as it is so it’s just sitting in a whole separate account. probably partly also because she’s not exactly the best when it comes to handling finances so. yeah.

uhh

this is so long already god I’m not gonna get into her personality or any of that now, yall can figure it out along the way or read up what I have on her page -- which isn’t much yet but it is something !! I’m def figuring her out myself too as I go haha

so ay if you wanna plot drop by my ims please ;; I do have a discord if you feel that’s easier too just ask for it !

also go show some love to Seok ouo

#( ;―intro )#( ;―lore )#( ;―ooc )#lies down- there we go #so I ramble hello guess some things haven't changed #psa: some things have been revised cause I'm a dumdum. nothing too big or what directly relates to muse so no worries!

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 5 years

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Shackled - Ch 2

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

Warning: Implied loss of family, grieving, depression, cursing, Demon!Dean, Sam’s tendency to leave out vital details for folks helping him to save Dean (read: Sam’s tendency to be a Winchester), threats of violence, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery (expect LOTS of that in upcoming chapters)

Word count: 1597

Author’s Note: This story would not be possible without @thoughtslikeaminefield , who convinced me to write and finish this story, cheered me on every step of the way, and convinced me that even after over a year of not finishing a single thing, I hadn’t lost my writing after all. MJ, thank you for poking the story til it squeaked. And for the banner. And lots and lots of other things. Thanks also to @cracksinthewalls for checking my work. You make everything you touch better.

If you’re reading this, hi! Have a seat and strap in, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride (in the best way!).

In case you missed it:

Ch 1

Chapter 2

The wave of sheer malevolence that rolled over Miriam nearly knocked her from her feet, and she only just kept from throwing her arms up in defense.

Nothing was coming at her, no weapons, no attacks or enemies. But the sense that something in this room was absolutely wrong couldn’t be denied any more than she could deny the mental and physical effort she had to exert just to stay by Sam’s side.

Torn, she thought, eyes darting around the enclosure. She wanted to bolt from the room, from the whole bunker, find the furthest cave, and bury herself in it.

And yet...

Moment by moment, she had to fight the urge to walk straight over to the man bound to the chair not fifteen feet away, a chair she couldn't help but notice was bolted to the floor.

What the hell did she think she’d do when she got there, exactly? Where was this coming from?

Her stomach twisted as she forced herself to breathe normally, to ignore the flush rising through her skin, and really look around the newly revealed room.

Dungeon, her scattered mind projected. The Winchesters have a dungeon.

A massive devil's trap, much larger than any of the few she’d seen, was painted on the floor. The sigils were painted in black against the grayish white of the floor; detailed, huge, and precise, the mystical symbols couldn’t help but draw her gaze. She examined the lines for a long moment, studiously ignoring the one thing in the room she suddenly needed to look at.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

Dean Winchester had aged a little better than his brother, but he’d obviously weathered some tough times, as well. That his arms were both cuffed and tied to the chair in which he was sitting, his eyes blacked out in true demonic presence, did nothing to ease every instinct within Miriam that screamed for her to run.

Sure, Sam had said his brother was a demon, but…still. Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester, an actual demon? That wasn’t a fact that could be conveyed through simple words.

“Gretel, it’s been too long. Where’s Hansel? Did a mean old witch toss him in an oven yet?”

The demon smirked at his wit, and Miriam felt her lips drawing back in an involuntary snarl, but Sam’s earlier words echoed in her head, and she throttled down the instinct to find a very swift end to this abomination. Nostrils flaring, she cracked her neck slowly to one side, then the other, closing her eyes for a two-count before opening them again.

Dean watched her, head cocked inquisitively, showing the first signs of real interest since she and Sam had walked in. His obsidian eyes narrowed as he gave her a thorough once over. His gaze lingered on her neck, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in the ruined skin, the pulse beating along the column of her throat. When he spoke again, his velvet tone throbbed in her veins, even as his words sent her stomach spiraling.

“Nah, I think the big bad wolf found you both. Ate up baby brother and started in on you for dessert. Bet he thought you were real sweet. Wouldn’t mind sinkin’ my teeth into that neck, either.”

Sam’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to herself, out of the rushing void. She blinked, cleared her throat, tasted blood.

When did I bite my cheek? she thought.

She shook her head like a dog shedding water, and suddenly she was back with herself. She glanced at Sam, looking for guidance on what to do next. Every hunter instinct she had screamed at her to drown Dean in a vat of holy water, or behead him at the very least. Anything to not look into those eyes again.

Those empty, black eyes that pulled when they should repel, that called to her to jump into the abyss rather than backing away from the precipice like any sane person should.

But Sam, the same man who didn’t hesitate to tackle the witch about to finish Aaron off as Dean set fire to the hex bag all those years ago, was frozen in place, his mouth a thin, painful line as his red eyes shone wetly under the harsh lighting. Then he cleared his throat and looked away from his brother as he arranged some flasks on the metal table nearby.

“Dean, I’ve gotta get some supplies for the ritual. It’ll take me a couple of days. Miriam is going to watch you, keep you...company. Then we’re gonna fix this.”

The harsh, gritty laugh that rumbled up from Dean’s chest was as amused as it was mocking.

“Are you still on that crusade, Sam? I don’t need a babysitter. Let me go, and we’ll just forget this whole brainless little scheme of yours. I don’t need fixing.” Dean grinned wider as his brother visibly flinched. “Ain’t broken, Sammy. Just improved.”

Sam’s lips pinched together hard, his eyebrows drawing down sharply, but he didn’t reply, instead turning his attention to Miriam.

“I know it sounds crazy, but we’ve figured out a way to cure demons. I can get my brother back, but it’s not gonna be easy. I have to go get the materials, some kind of specialized stuff, and it may take me a few days. I need your help; our other...friend is dealing with something and can’t get back here, and somebody has to watch Dean while I’m gone, just in case.”

Miriam glanced disbelievingly between the two brothers, one very obviously at the breaking point, if not well past it, and the other seemingly bored despite being chained down.

She took an unconscious step towards Dean before she could stop herself, then planted her feet hard. What the hell was that? she thought.

Dean eyed her speculatively for a moment, taking in her odd internal struggle. His nostrils flared briefly as he inhaled, and a smirk began to curl at the corner of his mouth.

“I think we need to talk in the hallway for a sec, Sam,” Miriam said, her lips pressed into a thin, tense line.

Sam huffed out a breath, and Miriam could see he was relieved she wasn’t outright refusing. As he led the way back to the hall, she glanced at Dean. He’d reverted to his natural appearance; warm, clear green eyes sparkled across the room as he winked at her.

“See ya soon, sweetheart.”

She shuddered and hurried after Sam.

The air in the hallway was by no means the fresh air she’d prefer, but it was bracing and clear after the tense, conflicting atmosphere she’d left behind. She took a moment to gather herself, to get her overwhelmed thoughts into some sort of order. Before she could find her words, though, Sam broke the silence with the last thing she expected or wanted to hear right now.

“I heard about Aaron. I’m so sorry, Miriam. I know it’s a rough time for you right now, but-”

“That's not the point, Sam,” she interrupted before he could finish, irritation and pain flaring hot in her chest. “You said you needed my help. That implies there’s something I can even do here. You want me to watch Dean, but what the hell do you think I can do if he gets out? I can’t hold back a demon by myself! You could’ve warned me, saved me the trip!”

“He won’t get out,” Sam said, his fingers clenching reflexively on the edge of his sling, and he grimaced. “The cuffs are inscribed with runes, and he’s inside a devil’s trap; you know those will hold demons as long as the lines are intact. Those flasks on the table back there are loaded up with holy water. Anything happens, you run like hell, call me, and I’ll be back here as soon as I can.”

He stepped into her space suddenly, and she was overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. He grasped her shoulder with his good hand, leaning down to hold her gaze. His desperation was etched into every line of his face, and she felt a sudden, unexpected affinity to Sam Winchester.

“I had no one else I could trust. I knew if I told you the whole situation over the phone, you might not come. But I never forgot you and your brother, and I never forgot your promise. I knew, out of the few people I could turn to, that you were the only one who’d understand that I’m going to do everything I can to save Dean.”

Sam’s fingers dug into Miriam’s shoulder blade, but she didn’t flinch, holding his gaze for a long, weighted moment. Then she nodded. He was right. Of everything that had happened since she answered the phone seven hours ago, this was perhaps the one thing she really, truly understood.

“You’re gonna have to load me up with holy water, though. Maybe a water gun to hold it. You got a Super Soaker lyin’ around somewhere?”

Sam coughed out a sudden laugh and released her.

“I can do you one better,” he said.

He reached behind his back to pull out a knife from a hidden sheath. He held it out to her handle-first, and her eyebrows shot up as she took in the inscribed, serrated blade. She’d heard stories about that knife, but she never thought she’d actually see it, much less hold it.

“Shit, Sam, I knew you respected me, but I didn’t know you actually cared.”

...

Chapter 3

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solynaceawrites · 4 years

Text

Promise Me Forever [7]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 7/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante considers his options carefully, listening to the sounds of Lorenna in the kitchen. "This marriage . . . does it have to be done soon?" Augustus frowns, and he adds quickly, "I only ask because, well . . .?"

He doesn't even know where that thought was going, but Augustus must take it some kind of way, because understanding dawns on his face. "Oh, of course! It would make sense, given your, ah, heritage, that you would be rather possessive of her, particularly once you are newly wedded. Rest assured, we’ll have you two married in no time."

Dante blinks at him. "I don't get it."

Augustus chuckles. "Oh don't worry. Her mother will sort out the details. And my daughter knows well enough what to do. All you need is to lay back and let it all happen." Then he frowns a bit. "Your father didn't give you much detail, did he?"

"No, I guess he didn't."

They lapse into silence. Dante does his best not to fidget, but this visit is taking far longer than he'd like and he's worried about what Lir might be enduring. Augustus pulls a pipe and a pack of matches from his jacket; the sight, and scent of the smoke when he lights it, reminds Dante of his father. "She seems much happier here," Augustus says. "As unexpected as this was, I'm glad for that."

"Was she miserable before?"

"No, not as such. Overlooked might be the better word. Lorenna worried more for our eldest daughters, leaving Lirael to her own devices, for the most part, at least until Ilya was born."

"Listen, I gotta be straight with you." Dante rubs his hands on his jeans, wondering if he is making the right choice. There is a low sound of voices from the kitchen, and he wishes he could talk to Lir first, but Augustus seems decent enough. "I didn't know anything about this until Lir came," he says. "Sparda disappeared when I was a kid. I didn't know he had made this deal."

"I see," Augustus murmurs. "Then it is good that you have been so accepting."

"See, that's the thing, I, uh . . ." Dante rubs the back of his head, trying to find the right words. "Lir is a great girl, and I like her a lot. I really do. She's sweet and funny and kind and she makes a killer lasagna. But, uh . . . I don't think this whole marriage thing is . . ." Augustus frowns, slowly lowering his pipe. "It's not that I don't want to!" he hurries on. "I mean, don't want to do it with Lir. I do. I would? It's not Lir, it's, uh, it's anybody. I don't know if I'd marry anybody."

He cringes a bit as Augustus stares at him. "I see," the old man finally murmurs.

"It's just, I'm a devil hunter, right? Not good at anything else, really. And I got baddies riding up to my door all the time, I'm always going here or there to slay something or fight something. And having someone like Lir at home, waiting for me, or even in danger?" Dante shakes his head. "Never felt it was right."

There is a long, tense moment during which Augustus merely looks at him, his face unreadable. "The marriage itself," he says, quietly, "is merely a formality. An act of good faith, if you will. The promise is fulfilled without it, if that is your wish."

"What would happen to her?" Dante asks, jerking his chin towards the kitchen. "She was terrified when she got here of what would happen if I sent her back."

"You said that you would if it was her, did you not? Rest assured, so long as the promise is fulfilled, Lir would live comfortably at the compound as your . . . Well, concubine is too archaic a word, perhaps." He sighs, rubbing at his chin. "She would be kept in special rooms, where you could visit her whenever you pleased, for company or for relations."

"No, no, woah, hold on," Dante says, holding up his hands. "No, you got it all backwards. I want Lir to stay, she can stay as long as she wants! It's the marriage thing, you can't just force two people to get married because two guys made a promise two thousand years ago. Did anybody ask what she wants?"

Augustus bristles. "We trust in Ler's judgment."

"You do. I don't. And what is this promise anyway?" he growls, starting to get angry. "Everyone is talking about shit I don't know about and I'm starting to get pissed. What the hell is the point?"

He frowns as the old man looks around, then leans in a bit. "Well, it's to bond her magic to you. A way to keep the wards in place. You've heard of the magic Ler used to seal the demon realm?" Dante nods, and Augustus continues, "He promised to keep the oceans safe if Sparda would give his son for his daughter. Now there is a son and a daughter so it needs to happen. I can feel the magic already growing thin the longer it waits."

Dante swallows thickly. He doesn't even want to think about what would happen if another seal opened. It had taken him and Lady months to get rid of the ones that escaped out of the Temen-ni-gru, and Nero was still dealing with Fortuna. "What do I have to do?" he asks.

"It is simple," Augustus shrugs. "You make the seal with your bodies. You know, intercourse.”

Dante stares at the older man, simply nodding his head. Then he turns his head and shouts, "Lir!"

Augustus jumps, but Dante ignores him and stands. "Lir! Get out here, will ya?"

She appears at the door with a frown, her mother following. "Everything okay?" she asks as she makes her way over.

"Would you excuse us?" he mutters through gritted teeth. Dante grabs her by the arm and pulls her towards the steps, hurrying her upstairs until they are in his room, when he shuts the door and locks it for good measure.

He turns to see her staring at him, her eyes wide. "What in the world is going on?" Lir demands.

"You have to get them out of here," Dante whispers loudly.

Lir rolls her eyes. "I know they are a lot, but they are mostly harmless. Honestly, they will love you, it's me they—"

"They want us to fuck!" he hisses, stepping up close to her. Lir swallows visibly and Dante nods. "Yeah. I know all about it. Why didn't you tell me about it? You lied to me!"

She holds up her hands pleadingly. "You seemed against the marriage, so I thought bringing up the . . . lovemaking would go over worse. And, after Morrison's visit, I didn't . . . I mean, for all I know, it's bullshit! Maybe we just have to shake hands, or rub elbows, or . . . I don't know. But I didn't want to bring it up when I don't believe in it like I should."

Dante tenses, raising his shoulders and pointing a finger at her, trying to think of something to say. But Lir simply stares at him, so he turns furiously and begins to pace. "We need to get out of this," he says.

"You know, I'm starting to think I should be offended," Lir huffs.

Stopping in his tracks, Dante looks at her sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, you're so violently against sleeping with me," she says, not meeting his gaze. "Would it really be so bad? If it was to save the world?"

"No," he says, shortly, "but if I'm gonna have sex with you, it's gonna be on my own terms, not because of some promise no one remembers."

Lir bows her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "So what do you propose? We don't . . . have to get married. I'm already over that. But this other part . . I don't think we can get out of it."

Dante growls, cursing under his breath as he walks over to the dresser. Planting his hands on the wood, he takes a few deep breaths to keep his temper. "We need to figure out if this is real or not." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her nod. "Why the hell would Ler make the seal based on two people . . ."

His voice trails away, not wanting to say it again. To his surprise, Lir laughs. "Maybe he really did hate Sparda," she jokes.

Dante turns sharply, his eyes narrowed as he looks at her. He feels his shoulders sag and rubs his forehead as he asks, "So, what, uh . . . goes into this anyway?"

"Into the wedding?" she asks. When he nods, she sighs and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, tugging at the blanket with her fingers. "A normal one, I suppose, with the council and my parents. Yours would be there, too, under normal circumstances, but you can invite whoever you wish to stand in for your family. We have a little ceremony and a party afterwards, and then we consummate the . . . the seal."

"In front of everyone?" he cries.

"No! Oh!" Lir bursts into laughter, and he frowns again. "No, no, we would just go somewhere." She gestures her hand in a circle as if that explains anything.

A loud knock on the door interrupts them. "Hello! Are you in there?" Lorena's voice is sing-song on the other side, and the doorknob jiggles. "Everything alright? Can't be doing anything in there without the wedding first you know!"

"Mother, please," Lir calls. She stands and opens the door, revealing both of her parents standing on the other side. "We are allowed privacy in our own home, aren't we?"

"Oh, of course." But that doesn't stop her from stepping inside, looking around herself with a wrinkled nose. "This won't do at all, I'm afraid. Have you forgotten everything you were taught about keeping house, dear?"

"This is Dante's room, not mine," Lir counters. "I'm not telling him what to do with his space."

Lorena does not answer for a moment, simply turning in a circle to take it in. "Well. It will need to be fixed for the wedding night at least."

Dante grits his teeth. "The wedding—"

"We were just discussing that," Lir interrupts Dante, and she gives him a pleading look as he scowls at her. "Before we set a date, is there a way we can see the texts? To be sure everything we do is accurate," she hurries when Lorena frowns.

"We don't normally share them with outsiders," her mother says in a scolding tone.

"You want me to screw your daughter but not answer my questions?" Dante growls.

It is utterly the wrong thing to say. All of the color drains from Lir's face while her mother's takes on a rather unflattering purple hue, and her father's lips press into a thin line. "I have never—" Lorenna begins, her voice quivering.

Quickly, Lir interjects. "It was lovely to see you both. Allow me to show you out."

"What!" Lorenna looks ready to blow, her face puffed and her hands clenched as she yells at her daughter. "I did not raise you to be so rude! I am your mother, and we are the protectors of the word of Ler! You will not send me out when I have business here!"

Augustus lays a hand on her arm. "Please calm down. It was a shock to Sparda, he didn't know—"

"Well that isn't our problem, is it?" she shouts. Then Lorenna points a finger at Dante, who scowls back. "Just because your father didn't think it important enough to mention, mark my word, that seal is real and it is breaking! Demons could break through any day now, and then what will you do, Mister Big Devil Hunter? Do you think I'm happy to give my daughter to a demon? But it's what I must do to stop that from happening! Now you will get married, fulfill this oath, and I'm not hearing another word about it!"

Dante looks at her, this ugly little woman screaming not only at him, but at Lir, and decides that, quite frankly, he's had enough of her and this entire ordeal. "Get out," he says, his voice cold. "Whether you do it through the door or the window, I don't give a shit, but get the hell out."

"Why you—"

"Mother, please!" Lir pleads. She steps between them, her hands on Lorenna's arms. "Please. I'll call you tonight, okay? Let me talk to him."

Lorenna fumes, but Dante can only look at them incredulously. Lir is going to talk to him? What about them? But Augustus is the one who intervenes, pulling his wife from the room as Lir follows, their footsteps on the steps heavy as she begins another tirade about rudeness until the front door opens and shuts and leaves the Devil May Cry in blessed silence.

He waits for Lir to come back upstairs, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. What the fuck is he supposed to do? It was one thing when this . . . this sham of a marriage was far off and distant and nearly forgotten; now that it's slammed itself into his face, he wonders if he should send her back to wherever the hell she came from and get on with his life. The whole bit about a seal breaking is probably bullshit, anyway, and maybe everything she's ever told him is, too. And he lapped it up because she was pretty and nice and took care of him.

Truly furious now, Dante stalks down to the office, more than ready to tell her to get her shit and get out, just like he had her parents. But the sight that greets him has him pausing, even if it only makes him angrier. Lir is sitting on the couch, her head buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she tries to muffle the sounds of her crying.

He frowns, takes a step towards her, and stops. Lir hadn't cried since her first day, and it's even more unnerving now that he knows her better. He puts his hands on his hips, cursing under his breath and wondering if he should call someone. Maybe Lady or Morrison will come comfort her? Nero?

"Damn it," he mutters. No, that's stupid. And something tells him that it would only make things worse to call someone else.

He approaches cautiously, but Lir makes no indication she knows he is there. "Hey," he says lamely, his voice quiet. Dante pauses a foot away, and Lir takes a few gulping breaths. Then he sits next to her, not sure what to do before finally giving her a pat on the back. "Uh, sorry about all that."

She shakes her head, curling away from his touch, and that hurts. "No, it's . . . This is my fault. I thought they wouldn't come here, not as long as I was . . . If they thought everything was going well, and . . ."

"It's not your fault," Dante sighs.

"It is! I should have been more honest. I should have known you didn't understand." That stings him too, but Lir groans as she holds her face. "The worst part? They knew this would happen. There was so much debate about whether or not I should go. If my older sisters had been able to, no one would have questioned it. And they wondered if they should wait, but the wards were getting thin and it's like, I'm the last hope, you know? But I'm just hopeless."

"Then we'll do it." Her head snaps up, her lips parted with surprise, and he shrugs and tries to appear nonchalant. "We'll do the . . . the sex thing. It's only the once, right? Then we can go back to how things have been, and you won't have to worry about them coming after you."

"What? No!" she cries.

"Why not?" he asks incredulously. "Isn't this why you came here in the first place?"

"I can't let you do this." Lir stands, wiping the tears from her eyes before she begins to pace. "There must be another way. Another spell, maybe, or some magic I can find . . . Maybe I can figure out how to alter the agreement, make it so it's only on me and has nothing to do with Sparda, or figure out where the gates are thinning and go there and—"

Dante laughs, shaking his head, and she stops to look at him with a frown. "Are you crazy?" he asks.

"What?"

"You're talking about using magic that doesn't exist anymore. And what, going to the ocean? You some kind of submarine?"

Lir pops her hand on her hip with a huff. "It might work," she argues, but her voice is unconvinced.

Dante smirks. "Should I be offended? I mean would sleeping with me really be so bad?"

Her cheeks flush, and that relaxes him. This feels more normal, whatever that means, and, while he's still not pleased at how the day has gone, she's not running. Not like everyone else has. "It's not that," she explains, "but I . . . I don't want you to do this because you have to. Because you feel forced into it. And it's not fair to put this on you, especially when you knew nothing about it."

Dante sighs. "There's a lot about being a Sparda that isn't fair. Just add it to the pile. Besides," he adds with a small smile. "it'll be worth it to see the look on your mother's face."

Lir laughs quietly, wiping away the last of her tears, and Dante feels something heavy in his chest. She looks almost frail, almost delicate like this, and there is a surge to protect that goes beyond what he does for the city. Before, killing devils was just because he did, no reason beyond to make a buck and because he was good at it. Deep down there might have been some sense of justice and the benefit of humanity and all that, but after losing Vergil it became more of a reaction. Dante killed demons because he did, and never bothered to think any further than that. Nero had brought some of the fun and the thrill back. Being around the kid had breathed some life into him and into the Devil May Cry, but Nero could take care of himself.

But Lir is different. He doesn't understand why or how, but he wants to protect her. He wants to make sure the oath is filled and the power keeping the demons in their dimension stays firm. He wants the world to be safe because she is in it.

"Hell," he says out loud, mostly thinking to himself, "if we're gonna do this, might as well just get married and have it full stop."

"What?"

He blinks, coming back to himself, but the words, once spoken, don't sound quite as awful as they did the first time he heard them. "I like havin' you around," he muses, "and it's not like anythin' has to change. Nowadays, marriage is more a legal thing, y'know? Go to the courthouse, have someone sign a piece of paper, and it's done."

"Is this because of my parents?" she asks, quietly.

Dante considers that carefully. "Nah. It's about you. Havin' you here, keepin' ya safe. And, if it's you, I don't think it'll be so bad."

She stares at him, frozen, the color drained from her face. The moment stretches on long enough that Dante starts to wonder if he said the wrong thing, and when a few tears roll down her cheek, he knows he screwed up. "Aw hell, don't—"

Lir rushes over to him, halting just shy of tackling him on the couch. She looks down as he gazes up, wondering what to do, when tentatively she reaches for him and wraps her arms around his shoulders. It isn't the first hug she's given him by any means, but it feels different; she presses her face to his shoulder and leans her weight against him, and Dante half holds her as she sags into his arms.

"Thank you," she whispers. "You won't regret—I'll do whatever it takes to make this work, I promise."

He smooths his palm along her back comfortingly. "It's okay," he says. "Should be fine. Like we're business partners."

She chuckles and looks up, their faces nearly touching. Her eyes are still watery, but shining, and Dante can't look away from her damp lashes. He feels her fingers stroke the base of his hairline, sending shivers through him, gulping as his eyes drift down to her lips.

"Lir," he murmurs.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" She pulls away with an apologetic smile, leaving a ghost of her touch on his skin. "Are you still sore from your fall this morning? I think I have something for that somewhere. I didn't mean to be so careless."

But Dante holds onto her hips, keeping her pressed against him. "You're really okay with this?" he asks. "You want to marry me after just a few weeks, just in case some old demons made a bet? You could have anyone. You could fall in love someday."

Her expression shifts into something so sad that it tugs at him, makes him want to comfort her in any way that he can. "Things like that are in the movies," she tells him. "They don't exist for someone like me. But I . . . I really do like you, Dante. Even if it weren't for this oath, I wouldn't mind marrying you at all."

Dante isn't too sure about that. He's never been in love, but he's seen others, and Nero and Kyrie are definitely in love. Even his memories of his parents are filled with their warmth, their kisses in the kitchen and their friendly arguments. But maybe she is right; love doesn't happen to people like them.

He nods and loosens his grip, allowing Lir to ease up. "Let me call my mother and appease her," she says. "Then I'll get you something for the pain, and then we can start planning." She turns to head back upstairs, but at the base of the steps she turns and smiles at him. "Thank you for this, Dante."

Dante nods and watches her hurry upstairs before he realizes what he's just done. Suddenly his palms are sweaty and his mouth is dry, and he sinks into the couch, running his hands on his thighs. "Getting married," he murmurs under his breath, shaking his head.

#dmc #devil may cry #dante sparda #lirael thorne #lir #dante/lir #dante/oc #dante x oc #dmc oc #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #story #myfic #collab #promise me forever #pmf

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noire-pandora · 4 years

Text

Birthdays

Another prompt from this list. Also on my ao3

Words:1682

Warnings: none

Arissa Surana learns how it feels to be loved.

The cold of the night made Arissa shiver, and she scooted closer to the campfire. No matter how much she wished to get to Denerim, they had to make camp and rest. Her companions chatted next to her as they ate their tasteless dinner. Arissa, Alistair, Leliana, Morrigan and Zevran have been travelling together for almost three weeks and now they had a moment of peace to get to know each other. She quietly watched them as they bickered, laughed and bonded. Even Morrigan joined them tonight, leaving the loneliness of her isolated campfire.

Arissa rarely spoke in moments like this. She preferred to eat and listen, Fluffy drooling on her leg. She loved to learn more about them but she was shy to participate. She believed tonight would be the same. Until Alistair turned towards her, a bright, big smile on his round face.

“What about you? What’s the best present you got for your birthday?”

Arissa blinked a few times, her hands squeezing her food bowl a bit too hard, her knuckles turning white. She could hear her heart pounding against her chest and she took a deep breath to steady it.

“I did not get any presents. I did not celebrate my birthday in the Circle”

Alistair’s eyes widened and his voice boomed with surprise. What? You never celebrated your birthday? Why?"

“Maybe I did, with my family, but I do not remember. The Templars took me to the Circle when I was five years old. And nobody asked for my birthday there. I never received any birthday presents. Sorry, I cannot answer your question,” she answered and avoided Alistair's eyes, looking down at her legs.

“Why are you apologizing, it isn’t your fault! I can’t believe they ignored your birthday. What a bunch of jerks.”

“This is how it usually goes in your Circles, Alistair. They do not care about the ones they cage in. They do not care about birthdays or presents or any holiday. Kindness is scarce. And all for the safety of the world, as your Chantry likes to say,” Morrigan intervened, sarcasm oozing from her words.

Arissa glared at Morrigan, deeply hurt by her words, but said nothing. Morrigan’s opinions against the Circle hurt, but Arissa usually ignored her. She had no idea what she talked about.

A long silence followed before Leliana spoke. “When is your birthday, Arissa?”

Arissa looked surprised at Leliana, as no one asked this until now. “22st Drakonis.”

“Friend, but this is three weeks from now. Why did you not tell us earlier?” Zevran asked, surprise written on his face.

“Why would I tell you that?” Arissa asked, truly confused about his question.

“Because we need to get your presents! And do something special for you!” Alistair shouted, raising his arms in the air. “What if we missed it? I can’t believe it, we have only three weeks to find a good present for you. You know, doing that in a Blight might be a biiiit tricky.”

“I am sorry, I did not realise that. You do not have to buy me anything. We are at war. My birthday is insignificant in times like this.

“Don’t be silly!” Alistair insisted, waving his hand to dismiss her words. “We’re going to buy you a present and have a birthday dinner for you. Somehow.”

“You do not have to, Alistair,” Arissa whispered, but her words were lost as Alistair started to plan what they should do for her birthday with the other companions.

The conversation lasted a few more minutes until Leliana decided to call it a day and they retreated to their tents, except Arissa, who took over the first watch. She stood in darkness, staring at the sky and wondering how her life would have been if the Templar did not take her away from her family. Maybe her parents would have bought her presents? Made her a cake? A tear slipped on her cheek. Fluffy whimpered and licked her face.

“It is all right, my friend. I am being silly. No need to cry about ifs and maybes. Let us pay attention so no Darkspawn can surprise us.”

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

As the days and weeks passed by, Arissa forgot about that conversation. She had more pressing matters to think about, the Darkspawns attacking them at every corner.One night, they made camp as they usually do, but this time, Alistair insisted Arissa and Leliana went hunting for dinner. Arissa frowned, for it usually was Morrigan’s duty, and Morrigan rarely refused to do her part.The hunt went awful. Arissa was no hunter and while Leliana had impressive archer skills,the animals in the forest heard their steps and run away before Leliana had any chance to fire her bow. After an hour of running around animals and failing to hunt them, they returned to the camp with a few berries and mushrooms in their pouches. Arissa found Leliana’s nonchalant air about the whole situation a bit strange, but she did not question it.

A smell of cooked meat tickled Arissa’s nose as they got closer to the camp and she saw her friends sitting around the fire, a wild boar roasting above it.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “When did you catch the boar? Why did you send me and Leliana to hunt, knowing we will fail?”

“We planned this to distract you, friend,” Zevran answered, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. “Today is your birthday. Or have you forgotten?”

“We did this for you!” Alistair chimed in, visibly excited to talk about it. “Here, sit, sit. Alistair pushed her to sit on the wooden log next to his own. She looked at them, too surprised to say anything. “The boar needs time to cook. We have to wait a bit more or else we’re going to spend a lot of nights in the bushes. But until then, how about we give you the presents!”

“Presents?” Arissa murmured, unsure if she heard right.

“Yes, presents,” Zevran answered, a thick book in his hand. “This is my present to you. I brought you a journal. So you can write our adventure in it. Or draw. Anything that might distract you from your mission for a few minutes. “

Arissa’s hand shook as she took the journal. The black leather cover felt rough to the touch, but she loved the sensation against her fingers. She gently opened, careful not to break the spine. The white pages were empty and waited for her to put her mark on them.“Thank you, Zevran. It is wonderful. I think I know what to do with it. Do you mind if I used it to press and conserve plants? I always dreamed to make a herbarium.

“Not at all! What a beautiful idea. It is yours now.” he said, a big smile on his lips.

“And I offer you as a present a spell my mother taught me,” Morrigan said, her hands touching the will-be herbarium. She closed her eyes and her hands glow green, the light covering the book. It faded away in a few seconds. “The spell will protect the pages of your book from rain, mud, any element of nature, thus keeping your work intact.”

Arissa’s eyes became glossy as she held back her tears. No one ever cared about the integrity of her precious books. “Thank you, Morrigan.”

Morrigan nodded, and Arissa could have sworn she saw a small smile tugging at Morrigan’s lips.

“My turn now,” Alistair exclaimed, getting up and grabbing a small package from this backpack. “I tried to wrap it, but I’m not that good at it.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, and watched as Arissa slowly unwrapped her present.

Inside, she found a small wooden carving, a few centimeters bigger than a chess piece. At first, she wondered herself why Alistair gave her a chess piece but, as she looked closer, she noticed what it was: a carving after the Circle tower she spent all her life in. She gasped and blinked back a tear, but it escaped and slid down her cheek.

“I’m sorry!" he rambled, panicked. " I know it isn’t the best carving, but you said the Tower was the only house you knew and you miss it so I tried to give you a part of it. But I guess you don’t like it if you’re crying.” His shoulder dropped, and he kicked the ground, his disappointment showing. He gasped when Arissa’s arms wrapped around his torso, her hair tickling his nose. He stood still for a few seconds, but he returned the hug, squeezing her a bit too strongly. They stood like this for almost a minute until Morrigan grunted.

“Are you all right there?” Alistair gently asked as they broke the hug.

Arissa nodded, squeezing the small wooden tower against her chest. “Thank you, Alistair. I will treasure it forever.”

Alistair giggled and rubbed his neck again, his cheeks slowly turning pink. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Can we eat now?” Morrigan asked. “I am starving. Running around to catch a boar is not an easy task.”

“Be patient, Morrigan, please,” Leliana said, rolling her eyes. “My present to you, my dear friend, is a song. Would you like to listen to it?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Then take a seat and allow me to sing for you.”

As Arissa sat on the wooden log and listened to Leliana’s wonderful voice, the tears finally slipped on her cheeks and she didn’t bother to wipe them. She let her emotions take the best of her.

No one cared to compose songs about her. No one bothered to carve anything for her or spend their money to buy her books. No one thought to offer her anything, and she never realized others could go out of their way to make her happy. But now, these wonderful people prepared a delicious dinner for her and bought her presents, in the middle of a Blight, while they had to run away from Darkspawns attacks. For the first time in her life, she understood how being loved felt.

#promp #arissa surana #characters: alistair morrigan zevran leliana #birthday #dragon age #noire writes #my stories

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holycrapharry · 4 years

Text

Cranberry Vodka

Y/n has never been a fan of bars but she’s quite a fan of cranberry vodkas. She’s been forced out of her apartment by her friend, Mel, who is already drunk and dancing with someone. Mel claims that y/n needs (deserves) a night away from her overbearing boyfriend, John. She couldn’t deny that John was a bit too much for her or she was a bit too much for him rather. It was the usual story where you meet a cute guy who treats you like the sun shines out of your ass then after a few years you both become trapped in a tomb together. The downright truth is that they fell out of love and they’re too used to each other to let go. John is set in his ways and well, a little boring. Y/n is shy but outgoing, she could have a good time playing chess or dancing on a table, you never know with her. “Would you be a dear and get us some refills?” Mel and Mr. Right Now can’t keep their hands off one another and for some reason can’t be bothered to get their own beverages.

“Can I have another one of these and two gins, please?” The bartender gives her a nod and walks to the other end of the bar. A few minutes go by and still, no drinks. She finds the bartender pouring shot after shot for a group of what looks like college girls in tight shirts. “Seriously? Hey, I’m taking my money back from the tip jar if you’re not gonna give me my drinks pal!” A pair of eyes dart towards Y/n but they don’t belong to the bartender, they belong to Harry Styles. Yeah, like that one. She doesn’t seem to notice him amongst the slew of girls. He makes his way through the tiny crowd, to where she’s slumped against the bar.

“I take it the gin isn’t for you?” Her eyes widen and she’s a little stunned. She tries her hardest to play to cool but she knows she probably looks foolish. He just kind of smiles at her and she might as well face plant the floor.

“What- What does that mean?” She straightens herself up and hopes to God that there’s nothing weird on her face. Harry moves a little closer to her, waving the bartender over.

“She wants a cranberry vodka and two gins,” He doesn’t even break eye contact with y/n while demanding this guy to make her drinks, “Girls who threaten bartenders while looking as good as you don’t drink gin.” Her drinks arrive, he grabs the glasses and pays the tab all before she even has a chance to think about it. “Where’re the rest of these drinks going?”

“We’re over here and you didn’t have to do that.” Harry follows her back to their booth where she’s greeted by Mel snatching the drink from Harry, not even saying thank you or noticing who he is.

“Wanted to. You should never pass up the opportunity to buy a beautiful girl a drink, especially if she’s so damn determined to steal her money back.” She can’t help but blush. She can’t remember the last time John told her she was beautiful.

“Well, thank you. You don’t have to stay here, you can go back to your, um, party.” His brows knit together and he leans in to her. Her heart begins to speed up and she begins to play with the silly little straw in her drink.

“Not exactly my kind of party, Love.” Something about his response makes her a bit sad, like he didn’t want to be here in the first place. His smile only appears again when she speaks.

“How come you’re not having your kind of party?” Y/n is now interested in a way she shouldn’t be, not with a boyfriend at home. She shouldn’t wish that he could scoot even closer or whisper his answers in her ear.

“What’s your name? I didn’t get a chance to ask, you were quite short with me.” His smirk makes her wish she was drinking straight moonshine.

“I was not!” She’s flushed and his smile has turned into a giggle. She sits back into the booth, sipping on her drink. He makes a note of how cute she is right now.

“Oh, easy now.” Harry starts laughing and it’s more intoxicating that her drink. “So, what’s your name?” Harry leans back to her, his arms brushing against hers.

“Y/n. I’m y/n.” Just as Harry is about to pull another line, Mel appears with a phone on her hand and she doesn’t look pleased at all. Mr. Right now his hot on her heels and hand his arms around her in seconds.

While slurring her words a bit Mel hands Y/n her phone and says, “It’s your boyfriend. Tell him you’re busy and come dance with me!” She takes the phone from her and prepares herself for an earful from John.

“Y/n, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning. You know I hate it when you’re out late with Mel, you always end up babysitting. Help her and whatever guys she’s with get a cab and come home.” Y/n sighs and responds with an ‘okay’ before hanging up.

“Didn’t mean to try and chat you up when you’ve got someone waiting up on ya.” He’s still smiling which makes her feel warm, makes her feel happy he’s not an asshole like any other guy would be. “It was wonderful meeting you, y/n.” Harry kisses her on her cheek and slides out of the booth, winking at her before leaving.

“Oh my fucking God, were you talking to Harry Steeles, I mean Styles?” Mel can’t even get names right and Y/n thinks maybe it was a good idea John called. She calls a cab and tries to get her drunk friend in order. She loves Mel, but she can full such a handful at times. As the pair prepare to leave the bar, Mr. Right Now nowhere in sight, someone stops Y/n and gives her a slip of paper.

Let me know when you’re ready for

another cranberry vodka

xxx xxx xxxx

- H

She looked at the small paper over and over again on the ride home, hoping Mel was drunk enough not to remember and tell John at a later time. “H…” She says to herself, if only one small letter turned her on, what would spending an entire night in his presence do to her? She licks her lips at the thought. It was a little bit hard to believe that in only half an hour, she was hit on by a gorgeous, talented man and given his number. I did make her feel special, even if he did do this all the time.

Harry really did want her, he would’ve never been so persistent on a girl who had a boyfriend but there was something else, something different about y/n. He liked how her name sounded, he like how she looked. Her sassy nature and beautiful features were sure to stick with him. He left the bar shorty after she did. He was used to girls, even guys throwing themselves at him. He had the pick of the litter but he didn’t want them, he wanted y/n. Harry even argued with himself once he got home that it was probably the fact that he wanted what he couldn’t have or that maybe, he was genuinely interested in this beautiful girl.

When Y/n arrives home she notices that john is sitting in the living room wearing what he wore to work that morning and a bag at his feet. “John? Are you that mad at me? I didn’t mean to make you that angry, I mean, you didn’t sound angry. It’s just a night out with Mel.” John stands up and looks ragged, like he hasn’t slept in days.

“No. No, No, I’m not angry at you at all. I just, I just don’t think that I can stay here knowing what we both know.” Y/n tilts her head and a tear falls from her face.

“What do we know, John?” He might have been crying as well, she didn’t really want to look at him. She knew what was coming.

“We love each other but, this is just, not what it used to be. I’m not what I used to be. We want different things. You know it, Y/n. You know that it wasn’t gonna last much longer.” John has picked up his bag and hugs her. “I’m gonna go stay at James’ place. Um, call me if you need me.” At this point, Y/n is not sad, she’s not angry. She’s alone.

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Ya know that John was gonna turn you into a total bore!” Mel says, sipping on her coffee.

“Don’t talk down to him, aright? There was a reason it lasted as long as it did, our love just turned into something else.” You try to keep it short and not think about it. Yeah, John was a little plain but he was her best friend. She’s going to miss him no matter how it ended. Y/n is about to tell Mel that she no longer wanted to talk about it when she grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing at all, other than Harry fucking Styles is in here.” She could slap Mel, just slap her right across the face. “I’m gonna go…look at the shoes.”

“No! Wait, ugh.” Before she knows it, Mel is gone. She pretends to admire a neatly folded sweater in hope that he doesn’t notice her. She carefully makes her way around the shop until she doesn’t see him anymore. Relief and disappointment washes over her at the same time. It would’ve been nice to hear that voice. His voice was the center of her thoughts even though John had just left. It was smooth but raspy and you had no idea it was so deep. As always, Mel appears with a dress in her hands.

“Go try this on. It would look so good on you, you could wear it anywhere. You could wear it for brunch or bowling, Oh! You could even wear it while shark hunting!” You could never deny that goofiness that she brought, that’s why you two got on so well. She could always make you laugh in any situation.

“Because I’m an avid shark hunter? You’re so weird Mel. ” You say as you make your way to the fitting rooms. The attendant smiles at you and tells you number six is free. “Four, Five, ok, six, oh my god.”

“Well, hello to you too, Love.” Harry is sat upon the small stool that is in room six. Y/n’s mind is running 1,000 miles per hour. She’s not even sure if this moment is really happening.

“What ae you doing! How did you know I was gonna be in this room?” Harry smiles wide and her stomach flips. His dimples are so deep and his eyes are so green she thinks she may have ran out of air. He walks over and shuts the door, motioning her to sit on the stool.

“Paid that lady at the front and to my surprise I ran into your friend, who was very eager to tell me that you are sadly without a mate.” He smile has become a smirk and she can feel it in her bones that he has some sort of devilish plan up his sleeve.

“Yes, that’s true. Now, can you wait or something? Mel wants me to try this on.” Harry starts to laugh, which confirms to her that this is a game for him.

“Why are you laughing?” Y/n is amused but also a little annoyed. If she were being technical, she was annoyed with herself, not Harry. She felt like a fool trying not to stare at him.

“You’re trying it on for me, Babe.” His looks could be deadly. She lets out a huff and he smirks again. She can’t wrap her head around the situation.

“What?” He’s come closer to her, inches from her face.

“I picked that out for you, d’you like it?” Harry’s voice is just above a whisper, his eyes burning into hers. If she wanted to, she knows that she could kiss him but she doesn’t. Instead she pushes the dress into his arms.

“I don’t like satin, Babe.” Harry is taken aback but follows her out of the fitting area. He gives the dress to the attendant and catches up with Y/n.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” Y/n didn’t want to get rid of him, she wanted him around. “We might as well go out to dinner.” She wishes she had that confidence he did.

“You don’t give up, do you Harry?” That was the first time she said his name and he found it a proper delight. The sound of his name rolling off of her tongue made him think about what he could do to her to make her yell it out for him.

“Not when I feel like something is right.” Y/n smiles and steps closer to him.

“Fine. I’ll go to dinner with you but nothin’ fancy. That’s like third or fourth date stuff.” She can’t believe she just agreed to go on a date. She didn’t picture dating anytime soon and now she’s agreed to go on a date with Harry.

“Oh, so I’m already booked in for a fourth date before my first. I must be better than I thought.” Harry winks at her and she rolls her eyes. She’s never been this comfortable with a guy, she’s usually shy before she lets it all out.

“Don’t get too cocky now. Wouldn’t want to jinx yourself, would you?” His stare becomes intense and she can feel it, “Now, what?” She really can’t figure him out.

He comes close to her ear and whispers, “I really wish you liked satin, Baby.” Y/n is very familiar with the feeling between her legs and blushes. “I already got your address from Mel, I’ll be there around 7:30.” Harry kisses her cheek and winks, just like that night at the bar.

PART TWO

Y/n can’t decide if she’s pissed off at Mel or if she wants to buy her flowers and send her on vacation. She can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if she didn’t bring a friend with her. She finds her sitting on the bench outside with a smug look in her face. “So, you goin’ out tonight, yeah?”

Y/n’s is rolling her eyes and has a stance that looks as if she’s ready to kill. “I can’t believe you. You little sneak, what the hell happened? What did he say?” Mel hooks her arm with hers and takes her for a stroll down the shops.

“Well, when I was at the shoes he spotted me and asked me if I remembered that night at the bar. I told him that I remembered the two of you getting cozy in the booth. Did you notice how great his smile is? Smelled nice, too. Anyway, he was like ‘I have an idea, but you’ve gotta help me’. He handed me this dress, which was fucking beautiful, you idiot, and here we are.” Y/n’s mind is on fire, she has so many questions, but no one could answer then but Harry. Why is he so persistent when he could have any girl? What was so special about her? She’s just Y/n.

“He didn’t really tell me anything, he just said that YOU gave him my address and that he’s picking me up. What am I supposed to wear? What are we even doing?” Mel is more than happy to rush them home and help her find something to wear. On the train, they discuss what could be happening tonight. Y/n tries to pry information out of Mel, but she swears up and down that she has no idea. What does he have planned and why would he want to buy her a dress?

“You should keep your hair how it is, that’s how he’s seen it the times he’s saw you. He clearly likes the natural you, we’re just gonna jazz you up a smidge.” Y/n thinks she’s rolled her eyes about fifty times today, but she wishes it was over with. Her nerves are on high and her stomach hurts a little bit, she hadn’t been on a date in three years and now she’s going out with a famous musician.

“How jazzed up am I supposed to get? I told him that I wasn’t going if it was a fancy place.” She flops herself on her bed and sighs, Mel following her actions so that they’re side by side.

“Well it’s not super fancy but I mean you want to look nice.” Y/n shoots up and pinched her. “Ow! What the fuck?”

“You told me you didn’t know anything! If you don’t know then how do you know it’s not really fancy?” Y/n’s has a smile on her face even though she’s frustrated.

“Ok so I may or may not know what he has planned but I will not tell you because you deserve a good night! Just go and don’t worry about it, please. You’ve been moping around for three weeks and somehow don’t care that johns gone out when people.” It was true, she just wanted to see john happy and he wanted the same. He would always ask how she was. “Go out with Harry. It’s 6 o’clock, go get ready.”

In a slight panic, y/n rushes into her bathroom and trips, surely bruising her knee. She hears Mel laughing in her bedroom and suggests that she may want to consider jeans. After brushing her teeth, she stares into her closet which might as well be empty. She’s convinced that she has nothing to wear until Mel pulls out a plain black T-shirt dress. “Is this too plain?” Mel is now the one to roll her eyes.

“Y/n this is so flattering on you and you wear all black 99% of the time anyway. You always look great.” Y/n gives herself a once-over in the mirror before turning back to her friend. “See, beautiful.” Y/n smiles at her just when there’s a knock on the door.

“No, it can’t be him it’s only 7!” Y/n tells Mel to be quiet and rushes to the door. “Ok, you got this.” She swings open the door and his greeted by Harry. He looks so good that Y/n would always feel underdressed compared to him. “Hi, you’re a bit early.”

“I got a little eager. You look lovely.” Harry up and downs her and she’s not the least bit offended. He grabs her hand and pulls her a bit closer, not so close that he’s in her face but close enough to whisper. “Are you ready?” You nod your head and he ushers you to his car. The car ride starts off silent and she feels a little awkward. “You just gonna sit there and look cute or are you gonna talk to me?”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry. I just…” She becomes twisted in her own words and becomes embarrassed. She hasn’t had to do this in a long time, she’s excited and can feel it all over. Harry just smiles at her and turns the music off.

“You don’t have to be sorry, don’t need to be. It’s the first date, If it goes horribly wrong, I promise you don’t have to see me ever again.” Y/n giggles and has to cover her mouth. “What, What are you giggling about?”

“Well, Harry. It’s actually quite hard to get away from someone when their face is on every magazine.” She looks at him and wonders how she’s so suddenly comfortable.

“I guess you can always find me if you miss me, huh?” Oh, he can be so smug. Y/n looks down in her lap and keeps laughing.

“I guess you’re right.” The car ride is surprisingly shorter than she thought. They’ve arrived at what she assumes is his place. She starts to panic because what if he didn’t want to date her? He just wanted a fuck with a girl who turned him down. Harry comes around to open her door and escort her into the building. “So, is… is this where you live?”

“Yes, but our date is on the roof, not in my flat.” The roof? Y/n is a confused by him and wonders if it’s hard for everyone to read him. He holds her hand in the elevator and when the doors open, y/n gasps in awe. The view is spectacular, but the roof is beautiful itself. There are lights strung above them and a small table with two chairs. As she moves closer to the table, she notices the food is waiting for them and flowers in the center. A fresh vase of tulips. She turns around to him, smiling widely.

“This is amazing, Harry. Tulips are my favorite, especially purple.” She gently touches them and Harry sits with her, examining how the color of her eyes seems brighter when she smiles. “Did Mel tell you?”

“No. I picked the prettiest flowers they had. Prettiest flowers for the prettiest girl.” She blushes and pokes his arm.

“You don’t need to pull any more lines. I’m already on the date.” He pretends to be offended and puts his hand to his chest.

“M’not pulling lines.” They both laugh and y/n throws her napkin on her plate.

“Harry, you’re pulling lines! Just talk to me. How was your day? What’d you do?” Harry leans back in his seat and takes a drink.

“Well, I tried to buy a girl a dress and it didn’t exactly go well but she did agree to go out with me,” He looks her dead in the eyes, “then I thought about kissing her but I was too scared to ask her.”

Y/n’s heart races and she doesn’t really know what to say, it’s silent for a few moments before she looks at him and speaks. “Why are you scared to ask her?” She clears her throat a bit and looks back down at her hands.

“Because I’m scared I won’t be able to stop if she lets me.” His eyes are fierce and she knows if she looks back into them she may not be going home tonight.

“What if she didn’t want you to stop?” She can hear him move in his seat and Harry puts his elbows on the table and bites lip. He looks at how her nose has a cute little scoop to it.

“I would tell her that she can kiss me anytime she wants.” y/n finally looks at him, but a loud boom takes her attention to the sky. “So much for being romantic I guess,” he hurries her out of her seat to the covering at the door, “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked the weather.” The pair is wedge together under the small dry place.

“It’s ok. The view is still nice.” She can feel his breath against the side of her face and smell his cologne. Harry apologizes a few more time before leading her back to the elevator.

“I have more flowers at the apartment. I was going to send them to you tomorrow but your’s kind of, um, drowned up there.” The doors ding and slowly open. To y/n’s surprise, his home is completely ordinary if you don’t count the artwork on the wall, which she’s sure could pay off any kind of debt she has and then some. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Y/n sits on an absurdly comfortable couch and is more than tempted to kick her feet up. She’s facing the balcony, watching the rain come down when Harry arrives. He has two glasses in his hand, one being her favorite drink and the other, his. “So, what’s your drink?”

“Rum and coke.” He sits and smiles at her body language. How she gets comfortable then tenses up. “You know, we don’t have to stay here. There’s plenty to do.” She rests her head on the back of the couch, fiddling with the rim on her glass.

“No, I like it. I like how the rain looks from here.” She really does like it despite how nervous she is. Harry grabs her drink and sits it on the table. Y/n give him a look and smacks her lips. “We’ll that wasn’t very nice.”

“I want you to look at me, y/n. I want you to know that I want to spend time with you, not just for the night. I saw you at the bar and it was like you were the only person there, you were to me anyway. There’s something about you, whatever it is, I want it and that guy is an idiot for letting it go.” Harry was reading her mind and she was speechless. “I’m going to kiss you now. Please don’t stop me.”

Y/n has no hesitation when his lips touch hers. She allows him to fall into her and move her closer. His kisses are hungry and she has a tight trip on his shirt. His arm wraps around her back and pulls her down so that he’s hovering over her. Her legs move to his sides and her hand to his hair. Harry grunts as his hand glides up her thigh. “Your skin’s soft, lips too.” Y/n smiles into the kiss, forgetting his compliment as soon as his tongue hits hers again. The fly of his jeans is rubbing against her crotch and she squeezes her thighs around him and a moan escapes. Harry stops kissing her and grabs her thigh tighter, jutting his hips into her. Y/n’s eyes close and she lets out a small gasp. “Come to my room with me.”

In a matter of seconds, y/n is being lead to his bedroom. There are so many thoughts running through her mind but when Harry picks her up and begins kissing her again, there’s nothing to think about. She was never going to let passion go to waste again. Harry wants her and she wants him if tonight is the only night they have together, so be it.

PART THREE

With Harry’s arm holding her up and a hand frantically switching the lightswitch up and down, he huffs, “Gonna lay you down on the bed. Lights burned out.” She was expecting to be plopped down, but he was so gentle. He laid her down like she was made of glass, kissing her softly before unwrapping his arms from her.

“We don’t need lights.” She watched Harry make his way to each side of the bed, turning on lamps.

He makes his way back to her, standing so that she’s eye level with the tiny sliver of skin showing between his jeans and shirt. “Oh, but I haven’t been thinking about you nonstop for weeks to play with you in the dark.” He brings his hand up to her face and grazes his thumb over her lip, “Unless, that’s something you want. You wanna play a game with me?” She kisses his thumb before nodding.

“I’m gonna turn these lights off, close the curtains and you’re gonna take your clothes off for me, ok? Is that ok, baby?”

Y/n becomes covered in goosebumps and almost stands up too fast. She watches him close the curtains and turn off the lamps, his eyes staying with hers until the room is pitch black. She starts to speak but her voice trembles, she’s not sure what to do or say. “Harry,” her small voice is barely a whisper. She knows he’s there but where is he? It feels like an eternity before his mouth collides with hers. Her arms fall around his neck, but he moves them so they’re pointing up to the ceiling.

“M'gonna take your dress off.” His hands fall down to her sides, pulling the dress up from the bottom. She can feel how close he is to her and the brush of his fingers feels so much…more. “It’s killing me not to know what color your bra and panties are.” Harry’s little laugh eases her, making her laugh as well.

“Well, you might be pleased to know that I’m not wearing a bra,” she steps closer to him letting her hard nipples brush against his shirt, “and my panties are purple.”

Harry swallows and licks his lips, thinking how he missed that when he took her dress off.

“Very naughty, y/n. And purple just like your flowers,” he puts an arm around her and pulls her flush against him so that he’s near her ear, “my little tulip, yeah?”

The thought of Harry calling her ‘My’ anything sends her nerves in a high. Her hands rest of his chest and his on her lower back. She makes a squeak of agreement and Harry back away from her. She can hear his feet shuffle but cannot place where he is in the room. “Where are you?” She can hear his goofy laugh, giving her the exact location. She keeps walking until she bumps into his legs, which are now bare. “Found you.”

“You did. Would you like to find me again or receive your award?” Y/n actually stops to think, an award? What could that be? If she finds him again, will he be naked?

“What did I win?” He searches for her arm, finds it and pulls her down on his lap. He’s sitting in the big chair by the door, as she walked in earlier she noticed it was leather and how refreshing the cold material must feel when it’s hot.

Harry holds y/n’s hips as he gently moves against her, nothing to really get her off, but something to surely get her worked up. “You won a ticket.” He can feel her breathing pick up again and he smirks to himself.

“Oh, a tic-ticket?” Her hands are now on the back of the chair and her chest is very close to Harry’s face. Each time his hips move her slightly upward, she can feel hot air tease her nipple.

It takes Harry all the he has not to shove her chest in his face and assault her pretty little nipples, which he knows are nice and pebbled for him. “Mhmm, a ticket that lets you ride whatever part of my body you wish.” Y/n’s thighs grip his, her nails dig into the chair, her whole body tenses. “You like that don’t you, tulip? You like riding, grinding these sexy hips into someone?” Y/n moans and whimpers. Harry knew that she’d be this way, physically responsive and why he can’t feel it, dripping wet. His hands move to the swell of her ass, caressing gently before moving her panties to the side. “When was the last time someone had the pleasure of burying their face into your pussy or you made his jeans wet when you rutted yourself against his thigh? Hmm? Tell me.” Two skillful fingers rub her from behind, making her chest fly forward. While she and John did rub up against each other like mad in the beginning, he never pleasures her orally and she had only given him head once.

“A - Oh - I’ve never, a long time.” Harry’s mouth finally encloses a nipple giving y/n an extreme dose of pleasure.

“Fuck. You’re so wet. Baby, did he ever get you this wet? Did he ever show you what your body could do?” The truth is no, y/n hasn’t even slept with Harry yet and this is the best she’s ever felt. She can’t think of a time where she was spoken to or praised like this.

“No. Never.” Harry barely brushes against her clit and she yelps. She can feel him hum against her and moves them to the bed in a rush. Lying on her back and kissing down her body, she can’t help but reach for him. “Give me your hands.” He obliges and laces them together while he kisses.

“If you were mine, I would worship you every night. I would, hold on,” Harry takes her panties off before intertwining their fingers again and making y/n’s heart drop, “I would keep you happy in so many ways.” She has no words other than his name and now that Harry is kissing just above her pussy, she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to even think.

“Harry, I don’t, um, I’ve never…” He stops kissing and flies back up to her face.

“Are you telling me that no one has ever done this for you?” Even though it’s very dark, she thinks she can see his shocked face.

“We just never had time for…that. It’s not a big deal I just don’t know what to expect.” He kisses her lips once more before returning downward.

“I’m turning on the lights.” Before y/n can ask him why, she’s greeted by Harry who is only left in his boxers. The light makes her squint and when her eyes adjust she sits up a bit, analyzing his tattoos. “What? Am I showing? I didn’t think these were the ones with the broken button.” Y/n laughs and shakes her head no. She can’t help but smile at him. He can be so sexy but such a dork. “Oh, so you were admirin’ me, huh? Well, let me tell you, it’s taking every ounce of me not to plow into you right now.”

Her eyes go wide and she giggles yet again. “Oh, really now? That why you turned on the lights? To plow me in proper lighting?” Harry comes to the bed and lays beside her, hand traveling down so that he can tease her with his fingers.

“No, it’s so I can see how you look when I eat your pussy for the first time.” She blinks a few times, not knowing what to say. “You want me to?” He nibbles on her ear a little, “I can make you feel so good. Don’t hold back, it’s taking all you have not to moan right now isn’t it? My finger playing with your clit has got your legs shaking but why you all shy now? Hmm, tulip? You were being such a good girl for me in that chair. You took your award so nicely. Imagine what my mouth would do,” she can no longer hold in her cries. They start off slow and become stronger as he continues to speak. “Imagine what Daddy’s mouth can do to your good little pussy.”

“Harry,” he bites her ear and slaps her clit.

“It’s a new game now. Call me Daddy.” Y/n doesn’t know how she’s even able to comprehend her words. She’s so turned on that she aches, she has an actual burn for him.

“Daddy, show me.” Harry is exuding confidence, but he’s never had the balls to be this way. He’s never had the confidence to have a girl call him Daddy. It was his go to for porn when he was away. In his mind, he was Daddy who worshiped his girls’ body. He would please her and tease her until she cried out for him. If his little girl was bad for him, he would spank her and pull her hair so she could choke on his dick. The last three weeks, y/n has been on his mind. That cranberry vodka kiss wrapped around his cock. His new title goes straight to his cock and he’s harder than before. He kisses down to her hip bone and sucks until she wiggles and fights laughter.

“Smile for me. Smile for Daddy.” But her smile quickly falls when his lips kiss her gently. Her brows pull together and he darts his tongue in.

“Oooh.” Y/n can’t believe that she’s gone so long without this. Harry’s wet tongue exploring her and kissing her. He brings a hand a hand up to spread her open before really getting into it. He gives her small flicks against her little mound of nerves, then long broad ones. Y/n grabs his hair and moans loudly. Harry has wrapped his lips around her clit and begins to suck. "Oh fuck! Yeah. Yeah. Right there.“

“Right there, baby?” Harry sucks again,“ you like that?” He looks up to her and finds that her mouth is open and gasping every few seconds. She’s close.

“Yes. Yes, Daddy.” Harry’s eyes roll back into his head, he didn’t even have to tell her. She called him Daddy and he was gonna make her feel good but first, he was going to let her calm down so he could fuck her properly. “Wha- no, don’t stop. Please.” Y/n needs to feel him, anywhere. She needs his contact.

“Just a moment. You’ve been so good, you wanna do something for me?” She shakes her head so fast that it may fall off. “You wanna suck my cock? Daddy’s been thinking about that beautiful mouth wrapped around him for weeks, you know that?” Y/n is speechless once again, but oh so willing. “Get on your knees for me, ok? Yes, good girl.” Harry puts a small pillow on her knees as she kneels.

“Thank you, Daddy.” Y/n winks at him, causing his left dimple to pop.

“Mmm, you’re so cute.” He meant it. Even with such a dirty scene below him, she was so adorable that it was sexy.

“I’m not good at this…” Her eyes fall a bit and he cups her chin.

“I wouldn’t have you do this if you didn’t want to, you know? You don’t have to, you give me pleasure by just being here tonight. We can stop whenever you want.” Y/n is captivating by how he has the power to make her do anything he wanted but he would never take advantage.

“Tell me how, I want to.” She grasps him in her hand and bites her lip.

“Just do what you know, baby.” He moves her hair out of her face and she begins to lick him. First, all the way up then swirling around. Harry is just about to tell her to do a little more when she puts as much of him as she can in her mouth. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” She looks up at him with a mouth full of dick, making him groan. “I don’t need to tell you how, you’re so good, baby, you’re so so good.”

Y/n is proud of herself. The sounds of Harry’s approval coming in grunts gets her wetter. She tried to take him deeper and deeper into her mouth until she gets that satisfactory gag.

“Easy, we have all night, love.” Even though Harry was extremely turned on by her gagging on him, he wanted the night to be about her and what she wanted to do. It becomes even harder for him to stand still when her hands come to his thighs and he accidentally pulls her hair a little.

“Mmph!” A little cry comes from her mouth and he immediately feels terrible and falls to his knees to rub her head.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I got carried away I guess.” She smiles and kisses him.

“If that’s you getting carried away on a first date, I can’t wait to see what happens next time.” With that, she stands up and lies down on the bed. “Come on, Daddy. Reward me.” Y/n was not about to let Harry’s persona fade away. She’s never had this with anyone and she was enjoying it. He stands in front on her, tugging slowly on himself and enjoying his view. “Is this my-” she’s cut off by Harry spitting into his own hand and continuing his tugging.

“Touch yourself.” Y/n is frozen and staring at his dick. She heard his request but cannot pry her eyes ways. He smacks her thigh and says, “I. Said. Touch. Your. Self.” Her hand flies to her pussy and she looks him in the eyes. “Don’t you dare ask me how. I can see it in your eyes, you know how. You know how you like it. I bet you play with yourself all the time, I bet that little pussy has been starved for attention.” All of this while watching Harry jerk himself off is setting her on fire. She’s rubbing her clit in small circles and when Harry catches the reflection of wetness on her fingers he stops, looking at her hungrily.

“What’s wrong?” She stops as well and sits up. Harry reaches for a condom in his night table and puts it on.

“Open your legs. Wider.” Y/n is already clenching when Harry hovers over her, making him gasp when he enters her. He’s bigger and fills her in a way that makes her dizzy. His pumps are so slow but well-articulated, causing y/n to let her head fall back and moan for him.

“Give me more. Harder.” Harry flips her on her belly and spanks her before he has her pulled up so his arm is around her waist and his face next to hers. He sinks back in causing her to whimper.

“You didn’t ask. How do good girls ask?” Y/n gasps and falls forward when he removes his arm from her. “Hmm? [spank] How do good little girls with naughty pussies ask?” She clenches around his cock and moans

“Please, daddy? Fuck me harder.” He rubs her ass to soothe her slap and grabs her hips. He pounds into her with full force and she yells for him, making him smirk. She wants Harry to please her and punish her. She wants to make him come. She just wants him sounding like an animal. “Tulip likes Daddy’s fat cock.” She heard him groan behind her. Wiggling back into him she says, “I want Daddy to know that he’s the only ones who’s ever pleased her like this.” He cursed under his breath and tries to keep his thrusts steady. “Did Daddy know that I thought about how good his cock would feel when we first met?” Harry spanks her and flips her on her back, still fucking her just as hard.

“That was very naughty,” Harry slaps her clit and she cries out his name. “You want Daddy or you want Harry? Because let me tell you something, only Daddy can fuck you this good.” He still can’t believe what she’s brought out in him. He begins to rub her clit until she’s grabbing the bed sheets. Harry is smiling to himself, he’s the only one to get her off like this and he wants to keep it that way. The thought makes his cock twitch and he needs her to come first, he was to see her in completely and utter pleasure.

“Oh god. Yeah, just like that. Like that, oh my god!” Harry can feel her come, pulsing around him and her legs tightening. “Come on, Daddy. Come for me.” He’s so close and he wishes he could fill up her sweet little pussy with come. ‘Another time’ he thinks to himself.

“Come here, baby. Ride me. Make me come.” Y/n sit on him and bounces as fast as she can. Her legs burn and her hip is starting to cramp, but she wants to be good for Harry. She sits flush against him and rocks back and forth when his hands move to her hips, “Fuck. That’s a good girl.” She begins to smile and so does Harry. “You happy? You happy riding Daddy’s cock?”

“Yes. I want you to come. I know you’re close,” she leans down to his ear and continues her movements, “You like getting fucked by girls like me, huh? You like when they call you Daddy? I can feel it. You’re so close. Come in me. Come in my pussy with your yummy, thick, cock.” Harry can’t handle to dirty words coming from her and comes hard. He holds her tight and lets out a deep grunt that she can feel as well. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Y/n, such a good girl.” She cuddles beside him and lets him catch his breathe.

“I mean it, thank you, not just for that but for the whole night.” Harry thinks she’s the most beautiful she’s ever been. She’s genuine, in any moment he knows that she’s one of those people who means what she says.

“I wanted to give you a real date. I wanted you to know that,” he pauses for a moment to turn to her,“ I want you to know that I didn’t just want this, I wanted a date and I want another one.”

“You have three remember? You’re already penciled in.” Harry flashes back to the clothing store and smiles.

“Well, while I get cleaned up, I fully expect you to be ready for the cuddle portion of our date. The balcony is exceptionally cozy when it rains.” Harry disappears into his bathroom and Y/n collects her underwear. She throws Harry shirt over her and grabs a blanket from the leather chair before heading down the hall. Once she finds the bar she makes them their drinks and pads to the balcony. He was right, the sound of the rain is very cozy. “Afraid ya ran out on me.” Harry sits beside you and recovers you both with the blanket.

“Not gonna run out. Why’d you say that?” She rests her head on him and he puts his arm around her.

“I’ve never done that before. That whole daddy thing, I wanted to but never had enough courage to do it. I thought that you might of like, thought about it after it happened and went home.” He puts his drink on the table and props his feet up.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to. It’s weird you know? Not what we did but how this is our first date. I feel completely comfortable right now. I feel myself.” Harry smiles and kisses the top of her head.

“Imagine how comfortable you’re gonna feel on those three dates you promised me.” She knows that he’s smirking, but they both feel it. Neither of them believes in fairy tales, but they know that this is going to last a long time.

#my posts #harrystyles #harrystyles fan fic #Harry styles smut #hs #harry styles writing #writing #hchs #can’t access old blogs

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bnha-ra · 4 years

Note

Wait wait wait that supernatural au you talked about sounds so freakin cool wth I would for sure read anything you wrote about that!!

Is this late? You bet your fucking arse.

My friend, seeing as you asked so nicely, I’m going to give notes about this au because it is probably needed.

There might be some triggering terms in here guys, so I warn you before reading!

Starting with the realms! There are three in existence, which are called

The Higher Realm (I changed the name, Upper didn’t sound right)

The Middle Realm

The Lower Realm

The Higher Realm is basically Heaven, in the supernatural au. It’s where the Gods/Goddess reside and where All Might reigns over. Much isn’t known about the Higher Realm, other than those worthy go to the Realm once they pass into the afterlife. Mortals, monster and human alike, cannot venture into the Realm without permission from a God/Goddess.

Within the Higher Realm resides The Council, a group of Gods/Goddess that protect the Middle Realm and rule over it from above. All Might is the head of the Council and (Name)’s mother was also a participant, however, since her disappearance, her seat has been left empty for her (Hopeful) return)

The Middle Realm is Earth, inhabited by monsters, humans, animals and plants! Monsters and humans live separate from each other, some communities of Humans know about Monsters and some don’t, those who know tend to hate monsters because of fear and a rough past with them. Due to their separation, the two species basically live in different centuries.

Humans live in modern society, they have technology, they have public transport, etc. while Monsters basically still live in the Medieval era, send letters to communicate, walk, hike, horseback, etc. are the only ways to travel and yeah.

and finally, The Lower Realm, or in other words, Hell. The place you go when you’ve done wrong, evil, things during your lifetime. The Realm is nicknamed “The Home of Chaos” as most evil entities tend to reside there and it’s the birthplace of demons. There are Nine Circles to the Lower Realm (Kudos to Dante’s Inferno which I’ve never read (: ) to which have nine ruling entities to it (Todoroki’s father, or his alias, Endeavour is the ruler of the circle “Wrath”) You are assigned a Circle depending on your greatest sin. The Circles go as follows: (This has been changed from the original Nine Circles my dudes)

Sloth - For those who haven’t done anything inherently evil, but have had their shared experiences where they’ve watched people get hurt and have done nothing about it. (For example, let’s say a mother sat back while her child was being continuously abused by the father, or a spouse knew their other half was killing people but sat back as they did it)

Lust - This goes for sexual lust and blood lust (So, for example, people who have sexually abused, assaulted, raped, etc other people or murderers end up in this Circle)

Envy - Those who have felt jealous of others but have used horrid ways to quench it (Let’s say, a father abuses his son because his son is better at something than him, or lets say a robber mercilessly kills someone else for their stuff)

Greed - Those who have acted upon their greedy urges for the whole of their life (Mostly people in power (Monarchs, generals, presidents, etc) tend to end up here because of their Greed for more land, riches and power)

Wrath - People who let their anger get the best of them, releasing their rage on others or ending with something bad happening (Most abusers end up in this circle)

Pride - People who have sinned against others, committed atrocities and have felt Pride for them (For example, Hitler, Mussolini, etc.)

Violence - Those who have assaulted, hurt, killed others because they felt it was there right and there was no excuse for their violent actions (Once again, murderers, abusers, serial killers, etc.)

Fraud - Those who had tricked and lied their way in their lives for their own cruel/selfish benefit

Treachery - Worst of the worst, the most sinister entities in existence are trapped down there. They aren’t human, they’re beyond evil and so they’re trapped in a cage, hidden away from everything.

There is a ruling entity of the Realm, however, seeing as it was so malevolent to the demons and other inhabitants of the Realm, they overthrew it and locked it away in the Circle of Treachery. No one is allowed to speak its name in fear it will give it power again to overthrow everyone and break free of the Realm. The Nine Kings basically act as guardians, not all of them are bad but then again it is the Lower Realm so they’re not really good either, but they all agree, no one wants it getting out.

One king rules one Circle each but together, they rule the whole of the Lower Realm. Also, think of demons as the “Slaves of the Lower Realm”, their main purpose in life is to survive the rulers of the Lower Realm by either doing their bidding, acting as the torturers for the sinners that fall into their Circle or tricking humans/monsters into falling to sin so that they end up in the Lower Realm once they kick the bucket.

Okay, that’s it so far for the Realms. Next,

The Capital

It’s the leading city of monsters and Wiccan! It’s known around the whole world! Even beings from the Higher Realm and the Lower Realm know about this city. It’s centred in an unknown location in the Middle Realm and the only way to get to it is through magic means.

Within the Capital resides The True Parliament a group of leading monsters and Wiccan picked from each species to represent the others that make the rules of the magic world, oversee the magic world and represent any and all magic.

The Capital is a heavy sought-out place for young monsters to start out their life, mostly young Wiccan though as they have a chance to become a Warden.

A Warden is a monster or Wiccan who protect the community from harm and has special permission from The Ture Parliament to use magic to protect others. They’re centred around cityscapes that tend to have rogue monsters and Wiccan.

Also, I’ve mentioned them a lot, but for anyone wondering, a “rogue” is a monster or Wiccan who has turned to the dark forces and act out with the aim to hurt others around them.

The Barrier, The Pocket, The Town and The Midoriya Family Farm!

Alright! Let’s do this!

The Barrier as its name entails is two magic barrier-like walls between the human forest and the monster forest! It protects the monsters from the savage humans that reside within the town. (Name)’s mother had put down the barrier after the incident before her disappearance as a way to keep the monsters safe while she wasn’t there. There is the human barrier and the monster barrier. Humans who try to pass through their barrier will only end up in another destination, miles away from it with a mind wipe about ever seeing it. Monsters and Wiccan, however, are unaware of their barrier, as the forest beyond the barrier from their side just makes way for more forest, as though the barrier isn’t there. It takes a special spell or special item to pass through the barrier to what truly lies beyond it. The Guardians are centred between the two walls, where they patrol on a 24 hour, 7 days a week basis to make sure that nothing happens to the barrier.

The Pocket is where (Name)’s home resides, a space between the walls. She has a little cottage that her father and mother had built when they were younger and it’s where she lives, hidden away from others to protect her from the dangers from the outside world. The guardians and the Midoriyas are the only ones allowed into the pocket.

The Town is, well, a town just on the outskirts of a monster forest and is surrounded by woodland in all directions. There is only one road in and out of the town so it’s pretty secluded, they’re kind of sheltered and they hate the supernatural. It is believed to be from a grudge of old ruling supernatural entities that cause their hatred and even though there have been multiple attempts to soothe over old wounds from the monster's side, the whole town is too stubborn to accept it. They have hunters, people who are trained to capture/kill monsters, who watch the outskirts of town to make sure no supernatural creatures leave it.

Also, the Midoriya Family farm! The Midoriya farm is huge and is about a mile into the forest, on the outskirts of The Barrier. It is a farm blessed by the nature Goddess herself, (Name)’s mother, that provides fresh food to the town, the Guardians, (Name) and the nearby city. (Which is probably a 3-hour drive from the farm) It is owned and run by Midoriya Inko and her son, Midoriya Izuku helps her out around the farm on a day to day basis. Despite their amazing food and fast harvest rates, no one else in the town as ever seen anyone leave other than Inko and Izuku, nor does anyone else in the town work at the farm. The town, on many occasion, have believed that the farm is guilty of witchcraft, however, they cannot prove this, do not want to ruin their only true source of food for miles and for some reason, there always seems to be people working in the fields or around the barn when people try to investigate?

Okay! That’s what I got for solid so far! If anyone has any other questions, please ask them.

A friend of mine has asked something already!

What happens in a human walks into monster territory?

While that’s highly unlikely due to The Barrier, if there were the odd human that did get past it, they would be captured by monsters, have their mind wiped with an amnesia spell then sent back their way to the human world! This is so it doesn’t cause tensions for the two worlds! However, if they are caught by a rogue monster, that human is dead for sure.

#boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha scenario #mha scenario #supernatural au #au prompt

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Wickedness Must Be Punished || Morgan & Miriam

TIMING: Yesterday evening, after Morgan and Mercy’s confrontation

PARTIES: @meflemming, @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Go, and hunt her, and find her, and kill her...

CONTAINS: mild violence, non-specific discussion of torture

Morgan’s only hope was that Jo would come back to clear out her things before moving on to the next town or trying to find Marina again. Morgan snapped the unit open with her bolt cutters and shined her flashlight inside. Half the shelves were empty, but there were still some valuable items that the witch had to be coming back for. Morgan stuck the cutters back in her bag and inched her way in, casting a glance back at Miriam. “The specimen jars are a dime a dozen, and so are the materials for the right trade, but her failed tests on whatever the fuck she’s trying to acheive...,” she she flashed her light up to the wings and the misshapen skulls. “I think she’ll be back for them. Sooner than later if she’s smart. Should we go outside and wait for her to turn up, or check back at the hotel?”

Looking around the abomination of a laboratory with Morgan, Miriam wrinkled her nose in disgust. This was what spellcasters were. Horrible, wretched people who played with something they could never understand, perverting magic to their own whims and using it to harm others. She picked up a jar filled with eyes before setting it back down, a frown on her face. She felt her the color in her eyes bleed from green to red and had to shut them tightly. When she got her hands on the witch bitch that did this, Miriam would make sure she knew what it was like to suffer. Just like she’d made all these people suffer. “We should go outside and wait. You’re absolutely right. These are her prizes, her research. She won’t simply leave it behind. She can’t. I’m quite sure of it.”

“Yeah, she was uh, pretty proud of it the last time we were here,” Morgan said. “Does this mean you spend a lot of time thinking about the mind habits of witches? Are you suddenly the witch whisperer all of a sudden?” She backed away, feeling sick all over as she remembered Jo’s offer and the awful color of her blood circle and the way she’d tried to poison Mercy. She had nearly backed out the unit when she saw headlights flash and footsteps outside. “Shit,” she hissed, and turned off her flashlight. There was nowhere to go, no escape route where they wouldn’t instantly be seen. “Shit, shit…”

“Oh, fuck this.” Jo Muscgraves took one look at her storage unit and knew it wasn’t worth it. Years of gathering samples and cataloguing her finding, years of experiments, of trouble, of cleaning the blood out of different floors, all down the drain. This was more than a stupid setbak, this was tanking her life’s work. But if she tried to fight for it now, she was a dead woman. She turned on her heel and started running just the way she’d come.

“Of course she was. Bitch,” Miriam practically snarled out. Just like a witch to be proud of all of this. Crimes against living creatures like this was truly wretched, and Miriam wanted to do nothing more than make this woman pay. “Sometimes, dearest, I have to do the unthinkable and get inside a little witch’s head. Find out what makes them tick.” She winked. “I like to think I’ve got a way with witches, yes. I thought you were aware of this by now.” She’d only barely gotten the words out of her mouth before she heard the sound of footsteps fleeing the storage unit. “Fuck me,” Miriam groaned. She gave chase, her vampiric speed allowing her to catch up to and launch herself in front of the fleeing woman. Miriam planted her heels in the ground and put her hands on the woman’s shoulders. She gave a smile that her mother had once called breathtaking in the saddest tone of voice, and she cheerily said. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. Jo, was it? Correct me if I’m wrong, though. I really hate being wrong.”

Jo wriggled in the woman’s grasp. She was still drained from the last encounter, focusing more on getting out of town fast before Marina organized her retaliation than she did on getting through another fight. She had been stupid, no better than an amateur. “Like hell I’m telling you anything,” she hissed, and struck out, kicking the woman in the kidneys and reaching for her face. A little burn might buy her some time but-- “Fuck!”

Morgan swung the heavy flashlight against Jo’s head again. Knocking someone out with a little blunt force trauma looked a hell of a lot easier in the movies. Jo didn’t collapse into a heavy sleep this time, but a heavy dent caved into her skull and she stumbled, eyes rolling strangely as she tried to keep her bearings. “Oh, it’s her,” Morgan said. “Trust me. So, uh, we should probably get her out of here while she’s out of it, right?”

Growling at the blow to her side but otherwise not moving, Miriam shifted a bit as the woman stumbled before grabbing her by the wrists and pulling them tightly behind her back. She looked at Morgan. “Thank you.” She had no idea that flashlights were such formidable weapons. “You’re right, of course. Though…” Miriam’s eyes glinted wickedly as she gave Morgan a grin. “Wouldn’t it just be a shame if our new friend here were to see her research get laid to ruin?” She tightened her grip around Jo’s wrists, careful to avoid her hands. Though, if she was as powerful as she thought she was, Jo would likely have no problem burning Miriam through the skin to skin contact, but the witch hunter was not concerned. She was in control here, and she had plans to feed well.

Morgan quirked an interested brow at Miriam’s suggestion. “I didn’t think you’d be so thoughtful, but alright. And, just so you know, I’d hardly say you had my head all figured out. Not all casters are the same, and I distinctly remember something about surprising you.” Nevertheless, she went over to the storage unit and started knocking every jar from the shelf. When that was done she went for the worktable, scraping all the tools against the wood, sending splinters flying. It was one of those drafting tables with a compartment underneath and Morgan flipped it open with ease, dumping all the papers and flash drives onto the ground. Those, she took special care to crush under her foot. She took a look at the framed wings on the wall and lifted them off their hook. “I think I’ll keep these as a parting gift, if that’s okay with you, Jo. For all the good times. Ooh, and some of these teeth...and these...flipping Universe, nail clippings? And people think I’m weird.”

Jo could not see straight, but she didn’t need all her faculties in order to know what was happening. She strained against the cold, undead grip around her wrists and tried in vain to lurch forward. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You don’t know the advancements, the cures, people’s hopes are in those!”

“I do, on occasion, have very thoughtful ideas,” Miriam said, teasingly. She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you surprised me a bit, darling, but I believe you’re the exception to the rule.” As Jo struggled, Miriam held her tighter and twisted a bit, reveling in the other woman’s pain and panic. “If you struggle,” she purred, leaning close to the woman’s ear, “I will make this so much worse.” She watched As Morgan began tearing apart the storage unit, grinning as the little witch had to bear witness to the destruction of what she saw as her livelihood. “You haven’t brought any sort of hope, Jo. All you’ve done is bring about destruction, pain. When we’re done, darling, all of your supposed advancements and cures will be nothing. You will be nothing. No one will care to remember your work or your face or your name.” Again, she twisted Jo’s wrists.

Morgan knocked the last of the samples over and went to tearing up pages she’d scattered by the handful and crushing all the little flash drives under her foot. “Gosh, I really hope that was special,” she said, watching Jo’s face twitch as one crunched in particular. She came over to the woman, grimacing as she saw her own horrified fascination mirrored back. “I just want you to know from the bottom of my heart, before things get dicier, that this isn’t because you’re a witch, Jo. It’s because you rolled into this town and you slaughtered a nineteen year old fae and dumped whatever you were through with in the trash where I could find her. I’ve talked with the fae about this, and they say it’s custom for assholes like you to be tortured. Tortured until you’re way past anything you inflicted on Coraline Adams.” She reached for the chain around Jo’s neck and ripped it free from her. A vial amulet with sand for transmutation. Of fucking course. “Torture’s not really my department of expertise, but I promise, I’ve brought in an expert. Just for you.” She backed away, crushing the little vial in her fist.

“I’m the expert, darling,” Miriam said brightly, allowing her eyes to shift to red and her fangs to drop. Maybe this was about the fae for Morgan, all the harm this woman had done to a very proud and secular community for what she deemed to be the good of humankind. Miriam

Felt bad about it, certainly, but, for her, it was because Jo was a witch. Though she had no doubt in her mind that this excuse of a woman would have been cruel and terrible even without magic, magic allowed her to act on those cruelties in ways that no mere human could. Magic was power, and human beings didn’t deserve such powers. “I would like, when your eyes can focus after that lovely knock to the head you received, for you to look at your work, Jo, and I want you to see just how easily it was destroyed. So much work, so much effort, and now it’s just nothing.” Quieter, Miriam leaned in a bit more, her mouth near the witch’s ear. Her fear was palatable, and Miriam enjoyed it for just a moment before she spoke. “I know you because I see you. Wicked and ruined to your core. We’re similar in that respect, you and I, and we’re similar in this respect as well: no one will remember our names. But do you know what they will remember? I am a witch hunter, and you, my dear, are nothing more than prey. I take great pleasure in the assurance that you truly deserve what’s coming to you.”

Jo wriggled away from the vampire’s touch as much as she could. She lurched forwards, muscles straining, bones tight in their sockets. “You selfish pigs!” She cried. “You’re just stupid, murderous pigs!” She strained against the vampire again, kicking and flailing out with her legs until she lost her balance and sunk to her knees. There was another crack of bone on the impact. “You don’t understand, you can’t even begin to understand…The world is a better place without those animals in it, even before I balanced them in the universe with my work. But why should you care about balancing harm? You’re one of them.” She spat at Morgan and the wad of saliva landed on her shoe.

Morgan watched, her face empty except for her furrowed brow. Jo’s words prickled with their familiarity and desperate earnestness. She understood a lot more than the witch reckoned from her, she just didn’t see how this idea crossed into murdering young girls or stockpiling remains for her alchemy lab. How one human could excuse so many dead fae, wolves, and undead. “I understand enough,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Enough of this.” Fighting wasn’t Miriam’s strong suit; she much preferred the lure and trap methods of hunting. However, she knew how to knock someone out, and knock Jo out she did. She couldn’t stand to hear the other woman ramble any longer. And it was just rambling, that was all, no matter how similar it sounded to her own ideals. Miriam took Jo under the arms as the other woman began to drop, and she looked at Morgan with a raised eyebrow. “Rude little thing, wasn’t she?” She looked down at the witch in her arms. It was impossible to tell that she was a witch. She just seemed like a normal, unconscious human. Miriam used to try and convince herself that she could sense the magic in witches, that she inherently knew who was what. Of course, she knew better, now, but sometimes she still tried to cling to that, even if it was just in her head. Not tonight, though. “You don’t have to try to understand her, Morgan,” she said quietly. “Sometimes, there are simply things that cannot, and should not, be understood.”

Morgan watched Miriam dispatch her work with cold, practiced ease. She jumped back, startled by how swift it all happened. “Yeah. She’s...something alright.” Knocked out, Jo didn’t look like much, a realization that made her skin crawl. She knew plenty of heartless people who looked harmless on the surface, but no one who had done anything so horrible as Jo. Looking up, she wondered if she should count Miriam in that camp as well, or if her hurt, her species, made her different. Better. “People have their reasons for what they do, don’t they? Even if they’re delusional or psychotic--” But Jo had been convinced she was helping. That she could transmute a cure for normalcy on the backs of tortured supernaturals. “What are you going to do to her?”

“She’s nothing, really. She’s not worth your time.” Miriam started moving the unconscious woman out of the storage unit and away, back to where she’d parked the car. “People have reasons for doing terrible things, certainly. However, you must always remember that a terrible thing is still a terrible thing.” She gave Morgan a wink, though there wasn’t much feeling behind it. “Take it from someone you know that does terrible things on a regular basis.” There were those out there that would look at Jo and then look at Miriam and see two sides of the same coin. Perhaps they were. Except Miriam hadn’t deluded herself into thinking that what she did wasn’t killing. She killed, slaughtered, destroyed, all on a regular basis. There were no other words for what she did. She was big enough to acknowledge them, to see them for what they were, and to continue down her path because there was a part of her, too large to ignore, that told her she must. “Well, I suppose I’ll take her back to my house. She should last me a few days, and feeding off someone like her will keep me full for some time.” She looked at the zombie and cocked her head. “You’re welcome to the scraps, if you want them.”

Morgan grimaced as she followed Miram to the car. She didn’t like feeding on humans as a first resort because she didn’t like other brains, other selves, sloshing around when on some days there was already so little of herself. She didn’t want Jo touching anything inside her. It was bothersome enough that she claimed to believe in the same things Morgan did. “No, thank you,” she said. “I don’t want to know what someone like that tastes like.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry, did you say days?” She thought back to the bloodstains on the floor of the wine cellar, the arc of the splatter in some places. There were no rusty knives or tainted bats, what little she understood of Miriam suggested cleanliness, or personalness, to her mind. A clean blade; a bloody, broken nail.

Letting Jo’s body drop to the ground, Miriam unlocked the trunk to her car. Not an enjoyable place to wake up, but, then again, Miriam had no desire to make Jo’s experience enjoyable or pleasant in anyway. “Suit yourself, dearest. But, truly, evil doesn’t taste bad.” She hefted Jo’s body into the trunk and slammed it closed, leaning against the back of the car. “Several days, yes. I’m not particularly interested in her blood. I feed on more than that. So, I’ll spend several days with her, we’ll get to know each other a bit better, and then, when she’s adequately paid for the things she’s done, I’ll put her out of her misery.” She crossed her arms, loosely. “Does this work for you? I assumed that you wanted me to help you with this because you know what I’m capable of.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to feel their personality inside you,” Morgan grumbled. She watched Jo loaded into the car like unwanted luggage, something you hauled with resentment like a shoddy microwave. The lid closed, drawing darkness over the scene. The sheer amount of time Miriam described was enough to spend her head turning. “You don’t have to put her out of her misery when you kill her,” Morgan said at last, still staring at the trunk of the car. “If she needs a day or two to get some feeling back in her senses so she can recognize pain again when you do it, by all means. I want it to hurt, right to the very end.” She let out a long breath, just so the concentration would take her mind away from the tension in her nerves. “And yes. I asked you here because you’re an expert. You’re going to live up to your hype, right?”

“That’s really a thing?” Huh. That was new to Miriam. Though, in her defense, undead things weren’t her area of expertise. “Oh, I don’t?” she asked. Impressed by Morgan’s ability to speak the words out loud. She laughed, the sound low in her throat. “It’s less about ending her misery and more about ending my boredom. Playing with your food for too long is only fun for a few days. I promise you, there won’t be more than a moment where she is not completely miserable and in pain. I rarely let my prey pass easily.” There was a feeling in the pit of Miriam’s stomach over the knowledge that, for as long as she walked the earth, she would be more known for her sins than her virtues. At least she looked good no matter what. “Dearest,” she said with a fanged smile. “I live up to the hype and then some.”

#wr miriam #wr chatzy #wr miriam chatzy #wickedness must be punished #wr #wickedswriting

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