#Musing;; The Devils Got Nothing On Me My Friend

[murdcck]

------- WHAT IS YOUR TRUE ROLE IN THE STORY?

THE CHOSEN ONE.

back again young one? still not comfortable with your new title? yes, I can see you are one that prefers the simpler things in life but you do deserve the rank they have given you. oh little sparrow, have you just now realized you are an owl? soaring the skies with gleaming, outstretched talons. you lived your life blinded to your own abilities, but now the truth is out. you did not ask to be a hero, which pains my heart to the core. but alas, the people have given you something so true and bittersweet you cannot bear to refuse them. for they have given you their trust. they praise you, songs will be sung of you, ballads written, feasts in your honor. but "why me?" you quietly whisper to the stars. if you could speak their language you'd hear their simple reply, "because." you, out of the finest candidates were chosen to be a sacrificial lion in golden chains. your loved ones chanted your worth as it echoed from the steeples. but what was your say on the matter? I guess you had little to none, and unfortunately, neither do I. but destiny is not a burden, it is a gift, you feel weighted by the entire world, your shoulders ache from the hopes, fears, and dreams of the people who have chosen to follow you. but their adoration isn't blind my dear. you are strong, you are worthy of the armor, of the crown. when you look back you will realize that you, my young god, were truly the savior many called you. do not run from your purpose, seek it. and I do not mean the heroic of sorts, no, search for what makes you alive young hero, for here's a secret, you are just as much a hero to others as you are to yourself. if wouldn't make you a villian, to tell them no...

[rivatar]

Neteyam who?

(Pt. 2 to Good Luck Finding Better)

Based off this request!

Pairing: Dilf Jake Sully x fem omatikaya reader

Warnings: HEAVY SMUTTT, darkish Jake?(rougher than the previous part), p in v, oral, spitting in face, dom Jake, creampie, a lil face smacking, lots of dirty talk, think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything

W/c: 2.8k

A/n: hey y’all, sorry this took longer than I wanted it to but schools been kicking my ass. I hope you all and the anon who requested this enjoys!! Dilf Jake is my guilty pleasure 😈😈

As the sun rose the next day, you slowly blinked your eyes open. You immediately felt soreness in your muscles, especially in a particular region between your legs. Then the realization dawned on you and you remember what happened last night. You wondered if it was a dream or if it really happened. You gasped as you noticed the cum seeping out of your hole onto the bed and decided that was enough evidence to confirm you weren’t dreaming.

You stayed alone in your hut for 2 hours, refusing to go into the village and overthinking last nights’ events. What were you gonna say to Jake now? Or Neteyam? Nothing would ever be the same! You fucked your Olo’eyktan, a whole married man! And he was your best friends dad, to make matters worse. You felt shame and wished you knew what to do.

By now you were hungry and it was well past breakfast time. You had to leave sometime, you couldn’t just stay in here forever. So you begrudgingly got yourself ready and tried to clean the mess between your legs. You were fearful everyone would be able to smell exactly who left their seed in you. So you tried to cover it up by dabbing your strongest smelling oil that you had on your inner thigh. It would have to work.

Just as you were about to walk out of the door and face your fears, a familiar face appears. And speak of the devil, it’s Jake.

He was smiling mischievously down at you, and you just looked up at him angrily and crossed your arms.

“Get out of here.” You demand sharply.

“Excuse me?” He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion and tilts his head to the side, scanning you over with his intense gaze. Part of you wants to cower but you kept going.

“Last night was a mistake,” you explained, “I was in a vulnerable state and you knew it.” You said as you poked his chest hard with your pointer finger. “And now I’ve probably lost my best friend because of you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jake holds his hands up to stop you. “If I remember correctly, that skxawng rejected you and I came to make you feel better. To which you had seemed to thoroughly enjoy,” he cockily smirked and you blushed, looking away with a pout. “Why are you mad at me and not my son?”

“Because he means more to me than you do! You’ve ruined everything!” You yell at him without thinking.

He suddenly grabs your neck with one hand and brings you closer to his face. Your breath caught in your throat and you struggled to balance on your tippy toes.

“Watch your tone, girl. Don’t forget I’m still your leader” he lowly speaks, his hot breath was fanning over your face and causing your thighs to clench together.

“Fuck you.” you manage to spit out.

He lowly chuckles and seems to be amused. “You already did that, honey.”

You bare your teeth at him, it made you so angry he was taking this so lightly and nearly mocking you like this was some kind of joke.

“Let me the fuck go!” You choke out harshly, still barely touching the ground with your tip toes to hold you up, both your hands gripping his arm to help hold you up so you wouldn’t actually choke.

His smile grows bigger. He seemed to like having so much power over you.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he faked like he was actually thinking, “I think you look so pretty like this.” You fought and wiggled as much as you could, but it was to no avail. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t ya? I never knew that about you.” He muses.

Then something came over you as you decided you’d heard enough of him, and with no thought you spit in his face.

You surprised yourself more than you surprised him it seemed like. Your jaw drops at what you just did and he just blinks once. Most of it landed on his mouth and to your absolute horror he licks it up and groans in appreciation.

“Mmm you taste so good, baby.” He tenderly smiles and you look at him in disbelief. The bass in his voice and his vulgar display lights something inside of you.

He gathers the rest of your spit off his face on two fingers and puts it to your mouth, beckoning you to open and pushing his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He demands, still holding your neck with his other hand but he sets you lower so you’re back on your heels now at least.

You didn’t know why you listened to him, but you did. Maybe it was his authority, or maybe because you felt yourself heating up and loosing your resolve.

Once you sucked your own spit off his fingers he pulled them out. He was making intense eye contact with you to the point you couldn’t force yourself to look away, almost like you were hypnotized.

“Good, now swallow.” You did as you were told with no hesitation. It was like your body answered to him before your mind could tell you not to.

You stuck out your tongue to show your empty mouth. “Good fucking girl,” he said while lightly smacking your cheek a few times.

“You still wanna go talk to Neteyam?” He asks, feigning innocence and mocking you.

You shook your head no, the desperation in your eyes from him getting you riled up was obvious to him but he liked teasing you.

“Good. Get on your knees” he demands roughly.

You were a little surprised at his straightforwardness but you obeyed and sank down to your knees before him.

He gracefully unties his loincloth and his full erect cock springs up right in front of your face. You didn’t get to see it this close up last night but now you’re noticing how pretty it is. Long and girthy, sprinkled with tiny bioluminescent freckles all the way up to the dark purplish tip.

“Open up for me, pretty” he rasps while rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip.

Once again you do as your told, your body fully submitting to him. You stick your tongue out and he places his dick on it, tapping it a few times. You lick and swirl your tongue around his tip as he lets out a pleased sigh while his body relaxes. You close your lips around him and he places his hands on your head to tug you closer and take more of him.

“Think I need to fuck this pretty mouth, how’s that sound?” You moan in response and he pushes your head hard, making you take almost his entire length and you gag.

He chuckles while you choke on him. “Yeah, this bratty mouth just needed to be stuffed with some cock, that’s all” He groans and tosses his head back while feeling your tight throat sucking him in.

You were already a mess, spit running down your face and neck, and tears welled up in your eyes. He picked up his pace and now held your head in place as he thrusted himself into your mouth. You couldn’t do anything but just take it. You focused on breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat, trying not to gag.

“Oh fuck-“ he whimpered and bit his lip trying to suppress his moans. “Shit that’s good. You’re doing so fucking good for me,” he praised as he felt himself coming near.

Your nails were digging into his smooth thighs and your throat was stinging at this point but you honestly couldn’t get enough of him. Your lower belly was warm and had butterflies.

“Gonna cum in your throat and you’re gonna swallow it all, okay?” He panted.

You felt his body stiffen and his cock twitch before you felt the warm ropes of cum spilling in your mouth. It felt warm and smooth like honey and you greedily took it all.

He pulled out of your mouth once he finished and smiled proudly at you.

“Good girl, that’s what a good slut does. You learn so quick,” he said while grabbing your face and placing a sloppy smooch on your lips.

He graciously grabbed a small towel to wipe your tear stained face and the sticky drool off your body. You smiled deliriously up at him.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I haven’t forgotten about you,” he grins. “Bet that lil pussy feels so neglected right now, huh?”

You nod your head and could hardly wait any longer.

“Nuh uh, need to hear you say it. What do you need?” He asks while petting your hair as you were still on your knees.

“Need you! Need you and your cock, please” you outright begged like he wanted.

“Please what?”

“Please.. sir?”

“Mhmm. Atta girl,” Jake praised.

He crouched down to your level and started crawling to tower over you. Your eyes were glued on his lips and he seemed to understand since he connected your lips in a heated kiss. He felt warm and tasted sweet and earthy.

He guided you to lay all the way down and you felt his rough hands start exploring, first just on your arms but then he couldn’t help himself from touching your tits.

Slipping under your top he kneaded one of your breasts, still holding himself over you with his other hand. He slightly moaned into your kiss at the contact and then pinched your nipple, making you break the kiss.

“Mmm” you hummed and threw your head back in pleasure.

“Yeah? Is that it?”

You bit your lip trying not to sound too desperate but still shook your head yes, begging him with your eyes. He took that as more than enough permission to keep doing it how you liked. He shifted to balance on his knees and his other hand wasted no time by going to knead your other breast that was left out.

“So, so perfect,” he whispered admirably.

Then with no warning he ripped your top off, beads flying everywhere. Normally you would’ve been upset about the damage of your precious clothing but right now you couldn’t care less.

“This needs to go too,” he said while yanking off your loincloth. It kinda hurt, but again, you weren’t in your right mind at the moment. And he was clearly getting impatient.

“Fuck” he breathed while eyeing your form. “Pretty. So fucking pretty” he rubbed your leg gently, quite contradictory to his former display of roughness.

Deciding to take the lead now, you opened your legs up for him. You were propped up on your elbows so this position was picture-perfect, and Jake did indeed wish he had a camera for your pornographic pose.

He was practically salivating over you but he wasn’t gonna let you get the upper hand. Snapping out of it, he looks at you devilishly like he was gonna devour you whole. You notice his cock is already fully hard again. Fuck, he’s good you admitted in your head.

Your pussy was a mess, your juices coating your lips and running down your ass.

“Jake, please” you begged.

He stopped ogling you and practically pounced onto you. He stole your lips in a hungry kiss and God, you loved the way he tasted too. You fought for dominance with your clashing of tongues but of course he wins with his larger mouth. He was shoving his tongue far into your mouth trying to get everything he could take from you. And you let him.

You whimpered as your heart rates increased and the thrill was like no other. Yeah, you loved Neteyam as your best friend but Eywa, his dad made you feel like you were flying.

All that could be heard was heavy breathing because neither of you wanted to stop. Then you felt his five-fingered hand slide down to rub your inner thigh and you thought you could almost cum right then. It was dizzying and made your body feel fuzzy.

He finally stopped teasing around the area and touched you where you wanted him the most. You both gasped at the contact.

“Damn,” he breathed while coating his fingers in your slick, “Needy little thing”

He pushed his middle finger in your sopping cunt and it slid in easily. You moaned and looked at him.

He started finger fucking you and gained a rhythm, then slid in another digit to add to the stretch.

You closed your eyes shut and were making so many little sounds that he loved. He also loved the sight of you squirming in pleasure.

“Watch it” he gruffed

You obeyed his request and turned your eyes to the sinful scene. He had you spread wide open and was pistoning his two big fingers into you like there was no tomorrow, hitting all your sweet spots so perfectly. It was so good you were struggling to get any sounds out as your mouth stayed open in a silent scream.

You felt your impending orgasm coming quickly. He seemed to have picked up on this as he started rubbing your clit in circles, making your climax rip through you.

“JAKEEE” you screamed and arched your back as it wracked through your entire body, toes curling and grabbing his dreads for support.

“Fuck yes. Fuckkkk yes!” he praised as he kept pumping you with one hand and lightly spanking your clit with the other, prolonging your orgasm.

You slowly came down from it, panting and a bit dizzy. Your eyes looked heavy.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, I ain’t done with you yet, babe” he said while manhandling you to flip you over on all fours. You could barely hold yourself up on your arms as you felt tired so you slumped down on your face, ass up in the air.

“Now ain’t this a pretty sight,” Jake chuckled from behind you. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance that was still soaked from your arousal and orgasm.

With no warning he slammed himself inside.

“OH!!” You shot up, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Had to get you awake somehow,” he laughed. “Now take this cock until I cum in your little pussy”

Before you could say anything he slid all the way out and slammed back in. Your eyes were almost popping out of your head at the fullness. He had to be in your stomach, you thought to yourself.

He grabbed onto your ass cheeks for leverage to pull you back onto him, setting a brutal pace. The skin slapping could probably be heard from the village.

“You feel so good.. such a good slut for me”

You clenched around him at his degrading comment.

“Oh yeah? You like being a lil whore? That’s all you are, hm?” he growled clenching his teeth, already lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

You moaned and whimpered below him, taking every inch of his dick.

“Bet you’d probably like Neteyam to see you getting fucked again” he taunted and you once again squeezed him tight as confirmation to his statement, “Yeah, I know,” he laughed, “it’s funny, ‘cause you try to act all innocent for everyone else. If only they could see you now”

You were hearing every word but truly didn’t care. Not right now, not when his dick was blissfully pounding your cervix and you feel another orgasm rolling in.

“Pleaseee” you whined.

“Please, what? One cock not enough for you?” he teased and smacked your ass.

“It is! Just please don’t stop!”

He sped up and thrusted harder into you.

“You gonna cum? Yeah you better cum for me,” he panted, feeling himself approaching his own high.

And just like that the coil in your lower tummy snapped. You cried out in ecstasy and he ate every bit of it up, boosting his ego.

“That’s it, baby” he cooed.

Then he felt his rip through him. “Gonna fill you up- fuck!” He whimpered “you won’t ever be able to get my smell off of you,” he promised while riding his out, his groans and little whimpers between words.

“This pussy is mine,” He made sure to milk out every last drop of his seed inside your pussy. He wanted to own you and mark you as his, so no other men could have you. He slipped his dick out carefully, making sure to not overstimulate you.

You were both fucked out beyond belief so you laid limp and he grabbed another towel to clean you up first, and then himself.

You smiled weakly at him and he smiled smugly in return. “So you gonna take back what you said earlier about wanting me to leave or do you like my company now?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and scooted back against him where you were laying down. “Shut up” you yawned.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @bambithewriter @nonamevenus @jakesullyfatjuicypeen

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 6

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

SIMON SAID

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : I DID SOMETHING BAD - TAYLOR SWIFT

‘I’m sorry about Xavier.’ Jo sighed from the other side of the phone. ‘He sounded great.’ 

“He was.” I smiled. “Thanks, Jo.” 

‘It’s ok. It’s horrible for this to happen, especially when you’re only just recovering from Carter.’ 

“People around me are dying, Jo.” I frowned, munching on my chocolate spread sandwich. “What if those two die too?” 

‘Those two are different.’ She vouched. ‘And I mean different. They literally seem… unkillable.’ 

“Nobody’s unkillable.” 

‘They do. Plus, there’s a bonus. Dean’s hot.’ I choked on my sandwich. 

“Sorry, what?” I coughed. “Don’t tell me you have a thing for him.” 

‘A lot of people would.’ 

“Never say that in front of me again.” I sighed. “I hate you.” 

‘Love you too.’ 

I smiled. “Love you, Jo.” I heard cries from upstairs, so I clicked my tongue. “I’ll call you later.” I cut the call, jogging up the stairs and going into Sam’s room, sitting on the bed and gently tried to wake him up, softly shaking him. “Sammy. Sammy, wake up.” He jerked awake, sitting up with sweat shining on his forehead. “Hey, I’m here.” 

“I…” He panted, looking around. 

“Tell me what you saw, Sam.”

“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this.” Dean mused, and Sam shut the radio. 

“What is there to think about?” He shrugged. 

“I just don’t know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea.”

”Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where.” 

“Yeah, man, but-“ 

“Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.” 

“Let’s just go there, shall we?” I cut in, sighing. “I don’t wanna listen to this conversation any longer cause my brain is gonna hurt.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean agreed, all of us sitting in silence.

 We pulled up at the roadhouse, getting out and walking in, where we bumped into Jo. 

“Just can’t stay away, can you?” Jo flirted to Dean, folding her arms. 

“Yeah, looks like it.” Dean grinned. “How’re you doin’, Jo?” 

“Where’s Ash?” Sam asked hurriedly. 

“In his back room.” Jo pointed, and he jogged off. “And I’m alright.” 

“He’s just a bit jittery.” I smirked. “We’re on a bit of a timetable.” 

“I’m gonna go with Sam.” Dean informed, leaving. 

“You can’t tell me he’s not hot.” Jo giggled. 

“No.” I shook my head, sitting down. “Dean’s a friend. He’s protecting me.” 

“From what?” She shrugged. “Nothing devil-like’s come after you yet.” 

“But something will.” I sighed. “I haven’t told them the full truth about what happened to Carter. They think that I got my powers to save a college roommate.” 

“What did you tell them?” 

“That Carter died because he stabbed himself. You know how he actually kicked the bucket.” 

“Tell them, then.” 

“They’ll flip out. I’m a multi-murderer.” 

“It’s not your fault. What happened will never be your fault.” Dean came back, so I winked to Jo and disappeared into the shadows, letting her do her thing. 

“And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight.” Dean sang, You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter night, and I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might-“ 

“You’re kidding?” Sam scoffed.

”I heard it somewhere, now I can’t get it out of my head, man.” Dean coughed. I snickered; Jo played this song in the roadhouse. “Ok, so, what now?” I asked as we drove in the Impala, smirking. 

“Andrew Gallagher. Born in eighty three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me.” Sam explained. 

“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“Sure looks like it.” 

“How do we even look for this guy?” I exhaled, shuffling through papers. “No address, photo in the system, place of work, the only thing there is all of his debt marks.” 

“Debt collection flags?” Dean asked. 

“Zilch.” I clicked my tongue. “That’s a problem. He’s got a work address, though. We just need to find out what he looks like.” 

“Got anything in the witch arsenal?” 

“Maybe an identification spell.” I rummaged through my satchel. “Or an ability to draw the face of the other person.” I picked out a pen, which flew on its own. “Oh, hey, Carl! Long time no see.” 

“The pen’s name is Carl?” Dean blinked. 

“Yeah. He knows almost everything ever done, and I thought I lost him.” 

“Ask Carl about Andy then.” Sam urged, turning around. 

“Ok. Carl, draw me a picture of Andrew Gallagher, born in ‘83.” I drew up a blank page of paper, and Carl started flying across the paper, ink left behind. He was drawing a face, and when he finished, he signed ‘Andrew Gallagher’ underneath it. 

“We’re lookin’ for a hobo, boys.” I clicked my tongue. “Aka a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in many moons.” 

“No.” Dean refused. “You’re not flirting with him.” 

“Yeah, I am. You go to his old workplace, I’ll deal with Andy himself.”

“I’m dressing like I was when I was 19.” I sighed, walking into a diner. I had a blonde wig on, and yes, I briefly dyed my hair blonde. Andy was there, and as soon as he saw me, he sat up. I winked, sitting down next to him. “So, handsome, I’m new in town. Mind showing me what to get?” Why was I using a Boston accent?

“Sure, sweetheart.” He smirked, pointing out what to get on the menu. “What’s your name?” 

“Lily Xavier.” I smiled, looking him up and down. It seemed to go down well. He called a waitress, and spoke to her smoothly. 

“Can we get options 13 and 14 with a discount?” 

“Sure, sir.” The waitress nodded, walking off. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom.” I excused, walking out the door and reaching the car, getting in beside Dean. “This is our guy. He did something to the waitress.” 

“Sam and I saw other things too.” I saw Andy approaching in the wing mirror, so out of panic, I put my hair in a ponytail, put on a band t-shirt, pulled my  leather jacket on and threaded the ponytail through a baseball cap. 

“Princeton?” Dean whispered, seeing the letters on the cap.

“Yeah.” I thought quickly, then I got it. “Kiss me.” I whispered, pulling Dean forward by his collar. Our noses bumped together gently, his green eyes flickering down to my lips and then up to my own grey eyes. 

“I like frisky women, but this is a little forward-“ 

“Andy’s coming, just kiss me.”

”But why?”

”PDA. Makes people turn their backs.” Dean obliged, our lips meeting with, ahem, a lot more passion than I was expecting. He had a woody cologne on, while I tasted this morning’s coffee on him, along with a… breath mint. I slipped my hand into his jacket, pulling out his gun as his free hand slipped around my waist, pulling me as close as he could. I handed him the gun, pulling away when I heard Andy clear his throat. 

“Hey.” Andy peered in the window, and Dean made  a quick recovery.

“Hey hey.” Dean smirked. 

“This is a cheery ride.”

”Hey, thanks.” 

“Man, the ‘67? Impala’s best year, if you ask me. This is a serious classic.” 

“Yeah. Just rebuilt her too.”

”Yeah?”

”Yeah, can’t let a ride this one go.” 

“Damn straight. Can I have it?” 

“Sure, man.”

”What?!” I whipped my head round, taking a hold of Dean’s arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Giving the car to him.” Dean replies with a grin, getting out. Stupidly, I got out after him, following after him. 

“Sweet.” Andy grinned, getting in the driver’s seat. 

“Just hop in there. There ya go.” 

“Dean, he’s taking your car.” I hissed. “You’d kill either Sam and I if we asked you about this.” 

“Eh, it’s ok.” Dean tossed Andy the keys, and he drove off. He seemed to snap out of it, turning to me. “Did he just take my car?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. We got a call, and we picked it up. 

‘Dean! Andy’s got the Impala!’ Sam exclaimed. 

“Yeah, he asked me for it and I sorta, just, gave him it.” Dean gulped. 

‘You WHAT?!’ 

“Exactly. Dean literally got Obi-Wanned. We’re dealing with mind control, Sam.” 

‘Were you affected?’ 

“No, strangely. I think it might be my witch background. Vestiges of powers still remain even after you’re restricted.” 

‘Seems like it.’ Sam yelled out, then he poke frantically through the phone. ‘Dr Jennings just got hit by a bus.’ 

“We’re getting there.” 

We found the Impala, running over to it. 

“Thank god! Oh. I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again.” Dean cooed, breathing a sigh of relief. “Well, at least he left the keys in it.” 

“Yeah, real Samaritan, this guy.” Sam grimaced. 

“Well, we know now that Andy uses verbal cues to get people to do his bidding.” I wrote it down in my flip notebook. 

“Dr Jennings got a call moments before he died. Maybe Andy called him.” 

“Yeah, I dunno, he just doesn’t seem like our guy.” I drew air in through my teeth. 

“Beg your pardon?” 

“You heard me.” I replied. “Andy doesn’t seem like a killer.” 

“You had O.J convicted before he even got out of his white Bronco and you’re having second thoughts about this hobo?” Dean scoffed.

”Pretty much. And O.J was found guilty.” I gave them a look. “Just trust my sixth sense on this, ok?” 

“Either way, how do we track this guy down?” Sam asked. 

“Not a problem.” Dean smirked.

We opened a van, which had the worst setup I’d ever seen. 

“I’m starting to like this guy.” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah, well, stew in it.” I grimaced. “This is a pigsty. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. Not that typical of a serial killer. Can’t forget the knives.”

”Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein?” Sam read aloud, looking at some books, “That's some pretty heavy reading.” 

“And…” Dean held up Moby Dick’s bong, making us roll our eyes. 

“Can we focus?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean went and got something from a minimart, while Sam and I sat in the front seat of the Impala. 

“Ugh. I’d like to see a day where I don’t have you eat something that you microwave at a minimart.” He groaned. 

“What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the Doctor was squeaky clean, why would Andy waste him?” Sam pondered. 

“If Andy wasted him.” I cut in. 

“This again?” 

“Hey, we’re not always black and white where these things are concerned.” I retorted. “Andy could have these powers, but there’s a possibility that he’s not another copy of the Max kid you told me about.” 

“The Doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math.” 

“20 says you’re wrong.” 

“Bet.” 

“Hey!” Andy appeared at the window, slamming his hands down. “You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” Dean looked stunned, but Sam and I kept our composure. 

“We’re lawyers.” Sam smiled. “A relative of yours has passed away-“ 

“Tell the truth!”

“That’s what I’m-“ 

“We hunt demons.” Dean blurted, making us stare at him. 

“What?” Andy gasped. 

“Dean!” Sam hissed. 

“Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother. This is Ivy, she’s a really, really gorgeous close friend.” 

“Dean, shut up!” 

“I’m trying- he's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself and Ivy’s a witch who had her powers taken away by the devil-“ 

God help me. 

I turned Dean to face me, kissing him hard. His words turned into incoherent mumbles, while Sam both smirked and looked away at the same time. I let him go, catching my breath. 

“The hell was that for?” 

“To shut you up. You were gonna spill the Winchester family history.” 

“Just leave me alone, alright?” Andy ordered. 

“Ok.” Dean winced, scrunching up his face.

“The hell we are.” I scoffed, getting out of the car with Sam and following Andy. 

“What are you doing?” Andy stammered. “Look, I-I said leave me alone. All right? Get out of here, just start driving and never stop.” 

“Doesn’t seem like it’s working, Wanda Maximoff.” We rounded on him. 

“You can make people do things, can't you?” Sam asked. “You can tell them what to think.” 

“That-that’s crazy.” 

“It all started about a year ago, didn’t it?” He continued. “When you were twenty two. Small things at first, but then you learnt how to control it.”

”How… how do you know all this?“

”Because the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me.” 

“You know what? J-just get out of here, alright?!”

”Why did you kill that doctor?” 

“Sam.” I warned, then stepped forward. “We’re not gonna hurt you, ok?” 

“How are you so sure?” Andy retorted. 

I switched to my Boston accent from earlier. “Trust me, honey, if we wanted to hurt you, we would’ve by now.” 

“You’re the blonde chick?” 

“Precisely.” Sam cried out from behind me, holding his head. I turned around, taking a hold of him. “Sam? Sammy, what is it?” He started to fall, but Dean and I caught him and laid him down on the pavement. 

“Look, I didn’t do anything to him.” 

“A woman.” Sam gasped, eyes opening. “A woman burning alive.” 

“What else did you get?” Dean asked. 

“A woman is about to burn herself at a gas station.” 

“What d-do you m-mean, going to?” Andy stammered. “What is, what is he-“

”Shut it!” Dean snapped. 

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell.��� Sam panted.

”When?”

”I don’t know.” He nodded to Andy, “But if we keep an eye on this guy, he can’t hurt her.”

”I haven’t hurt anyone.” Andy retorted. 

“Not yet.” A fire engine roared past, all of us looking in shock. 

“Dean, go after the engine.” I ordered, then turned to Sam and Andy. “You two, with me.” 

“How are you not affected?” Andy asked me. 

“Your brain will probably fall out if I tell you.” I picked up a call from Dean. “Hello?” 

‘Hey, it’s me. She’s dead. Burned up, just like Sam said.’

”So Andy couldn’t have done it.” I sighed. “Sam owes me 20 bucks. But it has to be someone else, then.” 

‘Sam’s visions are getting out of control. This was barely a head start. Anyhow, I’ll dig around and see what I can find.’ 

“I’ll handle everything over here.” I cut the call, turning to Sam. “You owe me a 20, Sammy. Andy didn’t do it.” I held out my hand, and 20 bucks were placed there. “But we need to talk. All three of us.” 

“So you get these premonitions of people about to die?” Andy asked Sam. We were all sitting on an abandoned truck in a mostly empty lot. Sam nodded. “Dude, that’s impossible.” 

“Andy, meet impossible.” I gestured to Sam, who laughed. 

“Some could say the same thing about what you do.” Sam smiled. 

“But… death visions.” Andy whispered. 

“Yeah.” 

“Man, that sucks. I mean, like, when I got my mind thing? It was like a gift, you know, it was, it was like I won the lotto.“

”But, I… I don’t get it.” I frowned. “You still live in a van. I mean, you could- you could have anything you ever wanted.”

”But I’ve got everything I need, y’know?” 

“You’re really not a killer, are you?” Sam smirked, both of us sharing a look. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Andy laughed. 

“Have we got that sorted, then?” I grinned. 

“I still can’t get over how you were a blonde with a Boston accent.” 

“I used to be blonde, so I just bought a wig cause I knew it looked good on me. As for the Boston accent?” I exhaled with a nervous chuckle. “It just slipped out.”

Dean pulled up, getting out of the car while we got off the van. “Victim's name was Holly Becket, forty one, single.” He explained. 

“Who is she?” I asked Andy.

“I don’t know.” He replied, shrugging. 

“Called Ash on the way over here, he came up with a little something.” Dean looked at Andy. “Apparently Holly Becket gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy.” 

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah.” Andy nodded. 

Dean scoffed. “And you neglected to mention that?” 

“I don’t think he’s gonna mention it if we don’t bring it up.” I contradicted. 

Andy shrugged. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby - do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m-“ 

“I don't know.” Dean grimaced. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.” 

“Well, screw that.” Andy grinned, then turned to me. “Do you think you can become Miss Boston again?” 

I groaned. “Sure.” I took my t-shirt off, revealing a crop top. I looked in the Impala, taking off my Princeton baseball cap and struggling for a second, emerging with a blonde wig and blue contacts. I also took out a bottle, spraying it on my face. I went back to them, feeling weird. “How do I look?” 

“Like a blonde babe.” Dean smirked. “Did you spray freckles on your face? And put blue contacts?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have faint freckles, so technically I sprayed on more.” I turned to Andy. “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“Charm the guy long enough so I can get close and do the mind mojo.” Andy grinned. 

“Right.” I started using the Boston accent. “I’ll charm him, honey.” 

“That’s scary.” Dean chuckled nervously. 

I approached the front desk of the records office, leaning over the front desk. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” The man asked. 

“I’m so sorry, I just got lost on my way to ‘Chusetts, so I’m hangin’ here for a few weeks. D’you mind showing me the ropes around ‘ere?” I twirled a bit of hair around my finger, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Sure, lovely. I could give you a lot more than that, too.” He winked. 

“Such as?” 

“Well, first-“ I was about to slap him, then Andy came up behind him and stopped me.

“Let us in. Don’t question why.” He commanded, and the man let us in. 

“Creeps nowadays. Even though I was meant to be flirting with him.” I spat, and Sam put his arm protectively around me. I started wiping off the makeup with a makeup remover pad, and he chuckled. 

“Now I see the freckles.” He grinned. “Can’t believe I didn’t before.” 

“Probably shouldn't have let you kids in here.” The guard gulped while Andy led him to the door. 

“No, it'll all be fine. All right? Just go get a cup of coffee.” Andy consoled while I sat down at the computer, typing quickly. “These aren’t the ‘droids you’re looking for.” 

“Awesome.” Dean grinned. While typing with one hand, I took my wig off, releasing my normal hair and taking my contacts out. A couple more buttons and… gotcha.

“I got it.” I called. Everyone crowded around me. 

“You did?” Andy gasped. 

“It’s true, Andy.” I nodded. “Holly Beckett was your birth mother.” 

“Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?” 

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t kill him.” 

“We believe you.” Dean assured. 

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“Then who did?” 

“I have a vague idea.” I took out a needle and some herbs. “May I?” 

“Yeah.” Andy nodded. I pricked his finger, dropping it on the herbs. They became red dust, rising up and forming two boys. 

“I knew it. Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.” 

Andy was in shock, while I located the brother. 

“I have an evil twin.” Andy gasped. 

“Holly put you and your brother up for adoption.” I explained. “And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.” 

“Andy, how you doing?” Dean grimaced. “Still with us?” 

“Um, what’s the name of my brother?” Andy asked. 

“Ansem Weems. He’s got a local address.” I pulled out Steve. “Draw him, please, Carl.” 

“He lives here?” 

“Yeah. Carl’s drawing him right now.” 

“I’m not even surprised anymore.” He sighed upon seeing Carl drawing on a piece of paper. 

“I’ve got a match.” I showed the paper to the other three. “Recognise this guy?” 

“That’s… That’s Weber. He works where I work.” Andy gasped. “Oh my god. Tracy.” 

“Go. Get to the car!”

”Alright, Andy, work with me. What do you know about Weber?” I asked, in shotgun while I loaded my gun. 

“Well, I mean, not much. I... Weber shows up one day, eight months ago?” Andy stammered. “Acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kinda weird, like, trying too hard, you know?” 

“Must have known you guys were twins.” Dean grimaced. “But why change his name? Why not tell you the truth?” 

“No idea.” I turned around, spotting Sam, who looked like he was in pain. 

“Dean, pull over!” I ordered, and he agreed, getting out of the driver’s seat and rushing over to Sam. I did the same, kneeling down in front of him. “Sam!” 

“Sammy!” Dean took Sam’s shoulders, trying to make heads or tails of what was happening. 

“Tracy.” Sam gulped, regaining consciousness. “Tracy’s gonna die.” 

“Tracy!” Andy gasped. 

“Beanie, you drive.” Dean got a sniper out of the trunk. “I’m gonna set up a sniper shot. Get Sammy and Andy there, then book it.” 

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, getting in the driver’s seat while Dean took mine. I handed Andy my gun. “Take care of it, yeah?” I then floored it, gritting my teeth. 

I set up a sniper, aiming it at the lot, waiting for when Weber would come into a space where I’d get a clean shot. 

“Do you think this’ll work?” Dean asked. 

“Truth be told, I have no idea.” I breathed. “But I trust Sam.”

I watched as Sam busted the window to the car which Weber was sitting in open, holding a gun to him. “Get out of the car! Now!” Sam ordered.

“You really don’t want to do this.” Weber smirked, but then Sam punched him, giving Andy enough time to drag Tracy out of the car. Sam pulled Weber out, shoving him against the pavement and holding a gun to his head. 

“Don't move. Don't move!” He yelled. Andy ran over, duct taping Weber’s mouth and kicking him twice, but then Sam shoved him off. “No, I’ll handle him.” 

“I'm gonna kill you!” Andy shouted. 

“No, Andy, let me handle this!”

”I will kill you!”

”Listen to me! Listen to me!” Weber stared at Tracy, and she picked up a stick and hit Sam across the head with it, rendering him unconscious. 

“Tracy, stop!” Andy begged. “I said STOP IT!” Tracy put the stick down as Weber stood up, peeling the duct tape off his mouth. “How did you do that?” 

“Practice, bro.” Weber smirked. “If you'd just practice, you would know. Sometimes you don't need to use your words. If you have to, all you need is this. Sometimes the headache's worth it.” 

Andy grabbed Weber roughly. “You’re a twisted son of a-“

”Back off, Andy. Or Tracy's gonna do a little flying.” I saw Tracy standing at the edge of the bridge, crying. “Aren’t you, Trace? I’m stronger than you. I can do it.”

“Ok, ok. Alright, just please, don’t hurt her.” 

“Don't be mad at me, okay? I know, it's, it's all wrong. I didn't mean for this to happen, it's just... Tracy? She's trying to come between us.” 

“You’re insane.” Andy spat. 

“She’s garbage!” Weber scoffed. “Man, they all are! We can, we can push them, we can make them do whatever we want!” 

“Are you… are you really that stupid?” 

“Wha-“ 

“You’ve learnt that you’ve got a twin, you call him up, go for a drink- you don’t start killing people!”

”I've wanted to tell you for so long, bro. But he didn't let me. He said I had to wait until the time was...” 

“Who‘s he?”

”The yellow eyed man.” I shared a look with Dean. This was the guy they’d told me about. 

“He came to me. In my dream. He said I was special. He told me he's got big plans for me. Wait 'till you see what's in store, Andy, for both of us! See, he's the one who told me I had a brother. A twin.” I lined up my shot, aiming for Weber’s temple. 

“Why did you kill our mother?” Andy cried. “And why-why Doctor Jennings?” 

“Because they split us up!” Weber practically screamed. “They ruined our lives, Andy! We could have been together this whole time. Instead of alone. I couldn't, I couldn't let them do that, I couldn't let them get away with that. No.” 

Dean lined up his shot, but he cracked a twig. Weber saw him, and smirked. I heard the command resonate, it was that powerful. 

“I see you. Bye bye.” 

“Dean!” I yelled as Dean aimed the gun at his chin. “DEAN!” I took a hold of it, aiming it towards my chest. 

“Fine. Kill her, then.” 

“Fight it, Dean.” I begged. He seemed to regain some consciousness of what he was doing, because he looked at the gun and back to me. 

“Beanie, help me.” He whispered, his finger tightening on the trigger. 

“Come on, Winchester.” I smiled. “You can do it-“ I heard a shot and a sharp pain, but when I looked down at my chest, I saw nothing. Instead, Weber fell to the floor, Andy standing behind him, holding my gun. 

I ducked down, covering my head and screaming at the sound of a gunshot. Dad covered my mouth, hurriedly silencing me. 

“Hey, hey, jellybean!” He bent down in front of me. “What’s wrong?” 

“I almost got shot!” I yelled. 

“Almost!” 

“Highlighting the ‘shot’!” 

“Alright, I’m gonna teach you a valuable lesson, jellybean.” He shot into the distance, making me flinch. “Don’t be scared if you hear a gunshot.” 

“Why?” I asked, folding my arms. 

“Because if you hear it,” Dad grinned, “it wasn’t meant for you. Now, c’mon, jellybean. We’ve got a spirit to scramble.”

”Good work, kid.” I muttered, grinning. Turns out Dean had managed to regain his senses and move the gun away from my chest right as he pulled the trigger. But the bullet nicked my ear.

”Beanie, sweet Jesus!” Dean cursed, chucking the gun aside and turning my face. “We need to get you to the ambulance.”

“Your ear will be fine, ma’am.” A nurse assured, taping the last of the graze. “You’re lucky your boyfriend saved you.”

”Extremely lucky.” I whispered. But when I looked at Dean, he avoided my eyes while Sam and Andy walked over. 

“My gun, please.” I held out my hand, and I got my gun back. “You did good, Andy.” I shook his hand, standing up. “I’ll give you my cell too. Neither of you have to be alone when this big plan is set in motion.” I then gave Andy my number, grinning.

“Thanks, Miss Boston.” Andy joked.

”Call me Ivonne Rainer.” I smirked. Andy went over to brainwash more police while I took a walk with Sam.

“I saw you when you got shot.” Sam looked at me, calculating. “You didn’t even flinch.” 

“Partially the adrenaline from saving your brother, but also because I’ve been taught that if you hear the bullet, it wasn’t meant for you.” I replied casually. 

“Solid advice. From your dad, right?” 

“Yep.” I clicked my tongue. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“What if my abilities weren’t meant for me? What if Carter was supposed to have ‘em?” 

“How so?” 

“Born in ‘83. Family dies, but not in a house fire. Abilities mysteriously start. I mean, you don’t find a witch suddenly in a line of pure human. And these psychic powers of yours, they made you immune to Andy. I shouldn’t be, but I am. It makes me think that this is all connected somehow.” 

“We could try and find out.” Sam suggested. “But one thing’s for sure.” 

“What’s for sure?” 

“That if Carter was alive, today,” He smiled, “he’d think the world of you. I do, at least. And it’s obvious that you treat me the same way that you’d treat Carter if he was still here.” 

“Is it that obvious?” I joked. “You’re just like he was, Sammy. And I’d give the world to that kid. If he was… well… alive.” 

Sam nudged me. “I think he knows.” 

“Jo?” Ellen asked. We were now at the roadhouse, since Ellen had called us there. 

“Hmm?” Jo looked up. 

“Go pull up another case of beer.” 

“Mom…” 

“Now. Please.” Jo went to get more beer, so Ellen leaned forward. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?” 

“No. Not really.” Dean quickly refused. “No offence, but this is kind of a family thing.” 

“Not anymore.” Ellen dropped a pile of papers on the desk. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?” 

“We think so.” Sam nodded. 

“Sam…” Dean hissed. 

“Why?” Ellen raised an eyebrow, looking between us. 

“None of your business.” 

“You mind your tongue with me, boy. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.” 

“There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like Sam.” I explained. “And um, they all have some kind of ability.” 

“Ability?” 

“Yeah. Psychic ability.” Sam nodded. “Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.” 

“What kind of plans?” 

“No way to know for sure.” I grimaced. 

“These people out there, these psychics. Are they dangerous?” 

“Not all of them. But some are or can be extremely dangerous.” 

“Ok, how many are we looking at?” Ellen asked. 

“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far.” Dean chimed in. “They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday.” 

“Well, that’s not true.” I cut in. 

“What?” 

“Weber and/or Ansem Weems, he had no house fire. Nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“Which breaks pattern.” Ellen sighed. “So if there’s others just like him, there’s no way to track ‘em all down.” 

“Which makes our job harder.” 

“Jo, honey?” 

“Yeah?” Jo popped her head round the door. 

“You better break out the whiskey instead.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 37: In Which The Rabbit Hole Is Deeper Still

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Alcina leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, savoring the slight burn of the blood-wine trickling down her throat.

"At this rate we're lucky we're not humans," Donna mused from the neighboring table, "we'd have blown through so much money in these vain military efforts we may be stricken down by our people."

"Have you paid much attention to the human world above recently?" Alcina asked flatly, "their idiocy knows no bounds for the make believe thing they call money that 'makes their world go round', we'd likely get away with much, much more if we felt the need."

Donna smirked, "well then I guess this will continue until we bare fruits from our labor?"

Alcina huffed heavily and shoved herself from the wall, rejoining her comrade at the table, "I'm growing as tired of this as you are," she slumped, in a very un-Alcina like fashion, "though I can't come to terms with giving up either. I don't know what else to do but to stay stationed and wait."

"I don't believe anyone else has any better ideas. Mother Miranda remains silent and I'm resigning from reaching out to her any longer. It's pointless. There's still no word of Angie. And Karl, your girls, Dmitri, Sylvia, and the myriad of other eyes and ears we have set loose remain... empty handed."

Donna's verbal vomit continued, and try as she might, Alcina wasn't much able to remain present for it. She was still very consumed with you and what had happened the other night. She still didn't quite feel right, or normal, or whatever she was supposed to feel. With everything going on, which was largely underwhelming, yet just as stressful and annoying, Alcina felt pulled in far too many directions than she liked and that her control was still dangling on a thin thread. She was beyond her threshold for anymore 'what if's', and preparing for an impending unknown, that she was ready to throw in the towel all together and let whatever happens, happen. 

And you. What would become of you?

"Uh... Alcina?"

Came the inevitable tug from her own thought vomit.

"Hmm?" she replied lazily.

Leaning harder on her elbow, Donna propped her chin in her palm and mused over her friends mental absence, "it's none of my business, and I made a promise with myself to never ask or insert myself, but... do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?"

Alcina didn't look at Donna right away, in fact she took another long swallow of her wine and adjusted her poor posture mindlessly.

Finally her icy grey eyes met her friends and she took a deep breath, "what makes you think something happened?" she deflected almost pitifully.

Donna scoffed, not lightly, "I've only seen you that ragged and disjunct maybe a handful of times in the long, long time I've known you. You were very much off when you came back last morning... very off. So, while it's still none of my business, you and your wellbeing are, therefor I can't help but wonder and have a little concern about you."

Their gaze remained fixed to each other and Alcina chose her next words very carefully; "she is... special, Donna. Very special. And no, not in the way I have viewed all my lovers. I'm beginning to fear..." her voice continued, betraying her inward caution, "that I may be in a bit over my head. At least with everything happening. I don't do well with fear... or uncertainty."

Her response was so calculated Donna nearly dared to roll her eyes, but at least Alcina had given her that much, though she knew she would likely not be getting much more.

"I know you dislike being open and vulnerable, even to me, but I hope you know you can always confide in me if you need someone to lean on. And I know telling you you can't always be the unbreakable pillar means nothing, but you really ca-"

"She's got powers of her own, Donna."

Donna became very still as she watched the deadly concern deep in Alcina's eyes urging to be released. That was not something she had expected to hear. Now, more things suddenly made a lot of sense.

"What kind?" she asked timidly.

"I don't know. But I was overcome by a blood-rage I've never experienced before yesterday because of her, her blood, her power, and she witnessed the whole thing."

Oh how the silence was painfully deafening.

"What are you going to do?" Donna asked.

Alcina shook her head shortly, "I haven't the faintest. I feel like I'm caught in a mangled net I can't escape from. My biggest fear, which I have no real concrete evidence for, says that she could be in danger. And, the more I go to her, the more I see her, the more I may risk her safety... and I... don't know how I could live with myself if..." her voice broke off with a crack as she stared down now at the table, reliving her painful past with a bitter bile in her throat.

She huffed, breaking that thought off, "simultaneously, I'm fighting with the guilt that I should be protecting her, keeping her by my side in case something were to ever happen, all the while battling the very infuriating reality none of this would be taking place if it weren't for me, doing exactly what I shouldn't have done," her eyes, now coated with the deep sea slate, locked on Donna once again, "she is my undoing as much as she is my long lost home of comfort and love. She's given me a breath of life I never thought I'd feel again, and I am riddled with guilt and shame for loving her, for not being all she deserves, for knowing with such likelihood our lives will never coexist the way she deserves them to. I... should not love her the way I do, I never should have loved her, but I cannot fathom letting her go now, as selfish and devastating my ignorance may be. Whatever powers she holds, whatever gifts hide in her soul, I feel them in me now. I feel her in every waking and sleeping moment. I am petrified, Donna. Petrified. I don't know how to save everyone."

Her last admission made Donna wince.

She reached for Alcina's hand and grasped it firmly, scooting closer to her at the table, "Alcina... you don't have to save everyone. No one is asking that of you -"

"It's my job, Donna! Am I not the Matriarch? Am I not the Figure Head of the underground?" she jerked her hand away and rose from the table with haste, "Is it not I that everyone looks to when it all goes wrong? Am I not the one who makes the final decisions, has the final say, and ultimately is held responsible for everything that goes on down here?" her eyes and features grew sharp as she continued, "I never wanted any of this, I never asked to be made the ruler of the tiring, undead, caught and lost in time world that we're forced to live in! But here I am, doing a better job than Mother Miranda or any of my predecessors ever did - so yes, dear Donna, it is my responsibility; it is my job; to save everyone from whatever inside and outside threats we face."

She'd paced at least nine times along the floor by now, rubbing her forehead with her plight of anger and remorse, huffing one last time before she stopped, dropped her head back to look at the ceiling and release the breath that had another pending slew of upset words.

"I'm sorry..." she offered softly, "my emotions have been burdensome. I feel more than I have in a long while. I'm not used to having no control."

Alcina found Donna at her side with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure it means little now," Donna also offered, "but I'm in your corner. Always have been. You won't weather this alone. And we will nail this bloody problem to the fucking cross, and things will get better. I'll fight tooth and nail to see it through."

She smiled genuinely down at the brunette and relaxed, "they say the quiet ones are those to really be wary of... I have no doubt in my mind you'll make good on your threat."

"When have I ever not?"

Alcina chuckled.

-

Currently, you were laying sprawled out in your bathtub; leg hanging over the side as you were half submerged and resting, recuperating from the exhausting morning you had spent 'working your magick'.

The baby fern Malka had given you was now on the kitchen counter in the largest bowl you owned since you'd overgrown it far too much and it burst from the tiny pot it had come in. You'd be needing to get some more soil and a proper planter as soon as possible. After you'd successfully grown it Fern Gully style, you'd grabbed the next item you could think of to manipulate; a candle.

This time you used your greyer magick. Melting it. Burning it. Reforming it. Lighting the wick with no flame. It was... excruciatingly exhilarating. And, utterly draining. Malka said practice was key. Little by little, you'd figure all of this out.

You'd also been up till around 3 in the morning reading over your books. The book on magick was as interesting as it was vague, cryptic, and a little oddly written. There was no doubt the books age just by the language and spelling. It covered mostly Celtic and Norse witchcraft; history, practices, etc., and gave a good index of symbols and deities. You'd not yet gotten to the chapters containing folklore of Fae, Fairies, Nymphs, Dryads, and the like, but were itching to get there.

You'd also gotten a few chapters into the vampire book when you woke. So much of the lore about the myths of them, oddly enough, were written as debunked as Alcina had told you forever ago upon your many nights of incessant questioning. You found it strange since this book was also quite old, and wondered if perhaps a vampire himself, or herself, didn't write it. The wives tales and superstitions around vampires lasted long into the 1900's, and this book easily predated that. It gave you a little bit of a warm feeling to think a vampire author had gotten some of their truth out there.

Secretly, you were hoping to find names, lineages of the vampire bloodlines, and see if you could track down this Mother Miranda that had wreaked havoc on Alcina, and certainly many others. But to your disappointment you'd found nothing. Yet. There were still many chapters to go.

The bath was helping you regain some energy but your fingertips were still uncomfortably tingly. 

You were finding your magick a very physical thing. Malka had introduced you to learning how to feel it out, locate it and harness it, and you found so many certain sensations went with each emotion and intention the more and more you focused.

Helping plants grow was a warm, soft sensation deep in your chest. The tingling in your fingers gentle but thick, the lightheadedness that came after was bright and intense. 

Burning down the candle came from below your lungs, deep in the pit of your core. It wasn't anger or rage, but pure intent to control and manipulate. The tingling from that was hard, firm, and a little steely. And you felt breathy afterward.

Lighting the candlewick was in the front of your face, like an Icy Hot mask on your cheeks and forehead. That tingling sensation was liquidy, silky, and prickly. It gave you jitters after and you felt startlingly awake.

As much as you wanted to revisit the darker of everything you'd done, you didn't dare without Malka present. Lighting your apartment complex on fire or something wasn't anything you wanted to risk.

It was now a little passed 2 PM when you were trying to read the book on magick while simultaneously making a plate of cheese and crackers to munch on on the kitchen counter. Unfortunately, as you were reskimming a paragraph you'd read twice, you slipped and sliced part of your finger with the cheese knife.

You reached for your paper towels, but in the process dripped three drops of blood on the way.

"Ah fuck," you blurted, quickly wrapping your finger and rushing to wipe off the little red droplets on your book.

But something caught your attention, vividly.

There where the text was as stark against the aged paper as you blood, hovering above and over said text was another text; glowing, violet, and in markings you did not recognize, but even odder still is that you could unmistakably read and understand it.

You blinked several times as the realization that you were clearly looking at archaic symbols, yet they translated in your brain as simply as regular English set in. Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach as your eyes read on:

Of this point in your crooked journey, there are many things to find; the Courts are vast, but none too far -  be true of heart  and sharp of mind.

The truths you seek shan't escape you long; for the Courts call home those who've been gone - through troubles unnumbered, and hardships unmatched - slithy toves wicked games, both brutish and strong.

Darkness endures while you brave the new sea;  uncharted and rough may these deep waters be. Fear not the voyage for you'll be lead through the mist, on the backs of your lineage you'll be able to drift.

The path you've found, is but only the start.  Be swift and be brave,  keep faith of the heart. Come back once more when time gives you wear - as the Courts do not dabble, not here or to there, for Magick is not born of the weaklings to bear.

What... the... fuck did this mean?!

You slammed the book shut and rushed for the door.

~

"Malka!" you called as you burst your way through the shop entrance, "Malka! I need to show you something!"

"Aye aye aye," Malka replied from around an isle, "ketzeleh! I'm just closing shop, lock the front, will you? Come meet me behind the counter."

You did as instructed and hastily made your way to the counter, nearly beating Malka there.

"What has you so spun up?" she asked wiping her hands on her apron, "out with it."

Without another word, you gave her a wide-eyed look of 'please tell me I'm not insane', plopped the book down on the cluttered counter, and opened to the pages where your blood stains were.

"I - I bled on the book by accident - and this text, this floating, purple writing appeared and it was some weird riddle and -"

"Oooyyy vey, ketzeleh," Malka interrupted, gently pushing you out of the way grabbing for the book, her bright eyes staring hard at the pages, "how did you get this?" she asked as her hues shot up to you.

You were stumped, but now very concerned, "uh, Louis, I asked him for books of magick and he gave me this."

The older woman eyed you closely and held the book tighter, "do you know what this is?"

"Clearly not," you stated quickly, your eyes just as wide as ever.

"This is a Blood Arcane."

...

"A what?"

"This is a book of magick, not just a book about it. How this Louis got possession of it I would very much like to know. There are not many left in the world," Malka's voice dropped lower and she came closer to you, "a blood arcane is quite literally an enchanted book made from the old lines of witches and shamans to hide their secrets in plain sight. The red leather binding is a hint to those who knew the old code; this dark stain of red indicates that to unlock it's secrets you must spill your blood to reveal what it has to share with you. Inadvertently you did just that!"

You couldn't help your slacked jaw as Malka, now beaming with glee and intrigue, explained this to you like a school child.

"What did it say, what did it say to you?!"

"I, uh, it was, uhm, it was some kind of riddle? Or poem? I - I don't really remember al of it, it wasn't very forward."

Malka put the book back down on the counter and tapped her finger to her thin wrinkled lips, "I see... but you could read it?"

"Y-yeah, but it wasn't English, it was like -"

"Symbols, yes. Each book is filled with various teachings from various walks of magick, all set to a language special to each reader."

"If I bleed on it again will you read it with me?"

"No, no, it doesn't work like that ketzeleh," she said softly, smiling up at you, "the message you receive will not translate to me, nor would my blood translate for you to read, that's the true magick of these texts! So intricately designed and woven, they are so rare and truly special. This book... it was meant for you, and you were meant to find it. Keep it close. Don't tell anyone you have it, and don't let anyone see it, you understand?"

You nodded mutely and relaxed a little, leaning on the counter while looking back to the book, "it told me to come back after time had given me wear... whatever that means, that part I remember pretty well. What does that mean, though? And how could I read it and understand it even though it was just weird markings?"

Malka grinned, "it means you're not quite ready to read all of it's secrets, but don't be discouraged. Many witches and others gifted with magick cannot read these even after years and years of practice and guidance by elders. As for the understanding; when the book chooses to be read by the reader, it will come through as normally as you and I are speaking now, another impressive mystical trait. I would consider yourself very lucky dear, this is extraordinary!" she turned to face you again and placed her hands on your arms, admiring you with those twinkling eyes, "the more and more you learn about yourself, and the more you learn your magick, this book will bare itself to you in no time. The secrets you find here may have many of the answers you are searching for."

With a gentle sigh, you slumped your shoulders and returned her grin, "life just keeps getting weirder and weirder, Malka," you chuckled, "I'm starting to feel like Alice In Wonderland; next thing I know Leo will be grinning from ear to ear and telling me the Red and White Queen are in the kitchen ready to take me to my coronation to be Queen myself."

"Well, let me know if Sid Caesar shows up dressed as the Gryphon - he's so handsome!"

You laughed out loud and wrapped her up in your arms for a hug.

"If I end up battling the Jabberwocky and jump through the mirror, do you think this craziness will end?" you asked through the hug.

Malka hummed, "do you really want it to, ketzeleh?"

-

"You know if we had cellphones this wouldn't be nearly as difficult," Cassandra said from the other line of the old rotary phone, "we could just call you at any given time at any given place, then you wouldn't have to worry about where we are and the like -"

"You know mother is never going to agree to cell phones!" Dani's voice interrupted, "But we love you all the same, mother!"

"Oh for heavens sake, give me the phone - let - go!" Bela clearly struggled.

Alcina allowed herself a heavy blink and blew cigarette smoke from her red lips, arching back into her chair while tapping some ash into the tray.

"Hi mom, sorry about that."

"Don't worry, I'm sure this argument about cell phones will follow me to the very grave."

"That'll be a long, relentless endeavor."

Alcina chuckled at Bela, "it is your sisters we're talking about."

"Well, I - "

Bela was rudely interrupted once more and Cassandra's voice came chiming through; "Mother, you know the human city council is scared shitless of you, I know the coverage down here isn't ideal but I have no doubt in my mind you can convince them to install a tower -"

Cue Daniella and her boisterous agreement; "Yeah! But then we'll lose Cass entirely to the internet; she'll be on bookface and twatter and god forbid one of those dating sites! Easy pickings for blood though I guess."

"Oh shut up, Dani! You know it's called FACEBOOK and TWITTER, my god don't act like such a dunce."

"I simply love to annoy you!"

The unintelligible bickering went on on the other line until Bela finally reclaimed possession of the phone. Alcina remained pinching the bridge of her nose while taking steadying breaths. At least they were always entertaining.

"Oh my god... ANYWAY. That's about all we have to report at the moment. Though we have learned a great deal about the hidden passages and other tricky gems of the underground while we've been at it."

"Do nOT let Dani get any ideas, please?"

Bela laughed, "of course not, mother. Even Uncle Karl knows better. And you're doing alright?"

Alcina paused briefly, "of course, dragoste - right as rain. Missing my girls, I suppose," she smiled weakly.

"We miss you too. I think we'll be coming home soon, at least for a visit before another lead comes through."

"And I look forward to it. Give the battling baboons my love, and I shall see you all soon."

"I will. Love you, mom."

The click on the other end felt a little heavier than it needed to, but Alcina hung the receiver and took a thoughtful drag, staring blankly onto her desk, pondering if anything was ever going to happen on any end of the spectrum. She hated being in limbo more than she hated preparations for a war that was certain. Trusting Donna's instincts was easier than trusting her own at this point, and hers said this wasn't over, so at least there was something to lean on.

There were only a few more hours before sunset and Alcina was struggling internally about coming to see you. Oh how she wanted to. Escape from all this and pretend it didn't exist for a night, but then, the troubles with you and your newly exposed power made her uneasy.

She rose with a huff that hid none of her annoyance; tired of living and wandering aimlessly through her stupid thoughts of uncertainty was growing old and quickly.

Alcina returned to her bedroom and began to get dressed. 

Donning a white turtleneck, black jeans, her knee high boots, her trench coat, and last but not least; the gloves you'd given her. The smile on her face was warm and wistful, all the hesitations she's fought being shoved in the other direction. She loved you, dammit. She would make this work if it killed her.

As she was closing the gates to the Manor behind her, a shouting from up the street caught her attention. Her name was being called, urgently, by a voice she did not recognize.

Swiftly she started to rush towards the sound, and there trotting down the cobblestone towards her was a young vampire. Her face was twisted with worry and confusion.

"Lady Dimitrescu!"

"Yes, what is it?" she hastily replied.

"There's a Father in the tunnels! He's asking for you, but we wouldn't allow him any further - he's covered in blood - says someone was attacked in the church - he's demanding you come to him!"

Alcina's eyes went wild as she looked down upon the young lady, the shock of this news to her system sending her fight response into action.

"Take me to him!" she commanded with urgency.

The vampire took off and Alcina was hot on her heels.

By the time she reached the tunnel she could already hear the panicked, angry arguing.

"Let me pass! I demand you let me in! I demand to speak to the Lady Dimitrescu! He was just a boy! A boy! How could she let this happen!?"

Pushing her way passed the wall of vampires, Alcina broke through to see this father. He was indeed covered in blood and looking terribly frantic.

She was barely a pace from him when he saw her and lunged himself at her. He was a small, younger priest, one she remembered only vaguely, and posed her no real threat. Alcina barked for the other vampires to retreat and leave it be.

He slammed his fists into her chest and body, babbling and shouting about this boy, incoherent sobs and cries as he stained her white shirt with the still fresh blood all over him.

"I need you to calm down, father," Alcina soothed with a sternness, finally grabbing hold of him and rendering him immobile, "look at me, look at me!" she demanded, stifling his irregular sobs, "I cannot help you unless I know what has happened."

His eyes were blood shot and his face streaked with tears, "You! Your - y-your devils! Come with me and I will show you!" he shouted, ripping himself from her grasp and dodging back through from where he came.

[foxes-that-run]

Only Angel

Only Angel has similarities to Meet me in the Hallway, they 2 of the 10 Haylor songs with Hallways. To me, it is related to So it Goes... which refers to when Taylor performed in the 2014 Victoria's Secret show. Harry performed Only Angel at the 2017 VS show. I have always heard this song to be an assurance to Taylor that she is his 'only angel', like in As it was, she cannot be replaced with girls that 'look just like her' in MMIH Possibly because he was seen with Nadine Leopold soon after the 2014 VS show. It also references Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey which Harry included on his mix tape.

At 2 minutes into this Nashville performance Harry sings "Told her Little Brother" (2.09), further confirmation it is Haylor, with Austin Swift being younger than Taylor unlike Kendall's brother.

Only Angel was last played live in November 2021. It wasn’t at Coachella or after Harry’s House.

Original Lyrics

On 7 December 2023 the demo was leaked with different lyrics. Studio version is like a simplified, shortened and cleaned up radio edit. In the original, the muse has more agency (they knock), Harry has considered proposing 1000 times but it hasn't worked out and it's more explicit. The song also ends, then comes back like their relationship.

Close your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth And hoping you don't shout about it Now I know a bunch of people who would waste your time But I wouldn't let it happen to a friend of mine We can write ourselves a story without doing lines 'Cause believe me, we can live without it, She's an angel[...] Broke a finger knocking on my bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling on the floor Could never take you home because your skirt's too short And my mother would be mad about it I must admit I married you a thousand times Had to change my tune when I found out what it’d be like But I meet you in the hallway almost anytime And we won't have to talk about it, yeah, She's an angel[...] She wants to be an angel just you wait and see. But it turns out she’s a devil in between the sheets and believe me I am all about it. Huh. Painted on you on your back, I knew we’d get along. But I caught you staring in the mirror way too long. I could love her if I didn’t think I’d do it wrong. I’m gonna have to take you home, She's an angel[...]

Lyrics

I saw this angel I really saw an angel Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth And there's nothing I can do about it

The first verse, Harry is so drawn to his muse he can’t help winding up with her. They liken their connection to an addiction in MMIH, Clean and Grapejuice.

The “only one in love with me” is Harry calling himself a narcissist and I think refers to Fool’s Gold where he said “Yeah I know your love's not real / That's not the way it feels /That's not the way you feel”

But, like in Fools Gold and Stockholm Syndrome he can’t help himself, he desperately wants to be with this muse

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short But I think that's what I like about it

This verse starts with 2 references that are in other quite sad songs, but set to a dance beat. Something Harry later did so well in As it was:

Taylor also referred to Harry knocking on her door in Suburban Legends but very sadly “You don't knock anymore and my whole life's ruined”

Harry also referred again to being on the floor in Fine Line “And I don't wanna sleep in the dirt”

The short skirt is a reference to Style “And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt”

She's an angel Only angel She's an angel My only angel

This line to me is a response to Is it over now? “Your new girl is my clone”. To me, Harry was saying he only has one angel, as in Victoria’s Secret model, Taylor having performed in 2 VS shows in 2013 and 2014.

After 1989 was released and they broke up they both spent a lot of time with a lot of models. Read into that what you will, to me the role the VS after party plays in So it goes and IDWLF, and the clone line has me noodling on if they were both seeking each other rather than the models.

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine As I went about my business through the warning signs End up meeting in the hallway every single time And there's nothing we can do about it

I love ‘went about my business and want to make you mine’ to me it encapsulates what I imagine wasted Harry’s chill attitude at that time.

Ending up in hallways links this to MMIH and the 10 other mentions of hallways in their respective songs.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me That she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets And there's nothing she can do about it Hey, hey

This line about her brother is thought to narrow the muse to KJ and TS, in the above live performance in Nashville Harry said little brother which would be Austin Swift. Harry also got on with Austin.

To me, she’s an Angel/devil is here is similar to Style, where Taylor had “good girl faith and a tight little skirt” both play on the idea of someone seeming good but being wild. Kiwi is also similar “hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect”

She's an angel Only angel x3 Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight x3 My only angel She's an angel x3 My-my-my only angel

The refrain is repeating that she’s the only angel for him, and he wants to go to heaven.

Harry included Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey on his Another Man Mix Tape from an article while he was making this album. The outtro "She's an angel", which is also how Tupelo Honey ends. As Harry said to Rolling Stone:

“I don’t know much about Van Morrison’s life, but I know how he felt about this girl, because he put it in a song. So I like working the same way.”

[aetherdoesthings]

let's be friends - nico robin x gn!reader

forethoughts: i wrote this late at night so no proofreading other than one quick read through so apologies for any grammar mistakes! i just watched eneis lobby and sobbed my heart out prior to writing this. i want to give robin a hug so bad and be friends with her. anyways i hope you enjoy ^^

warnings: MAJOR ENEIS LOBBY AND WATER SEVEN SPOILERS!!! you have been warned.

You were the newest member of the Straw Hat Pirates. Temporary, maybe, but still you had allied with their captain and joined their ranks. You were minding your own business in Water Seven, doing some shopping for food and picking up new parts to repair your own ship that had taken a beating. But when the news about Iceberg’s attempted assassination got out and everyone got in a frenzy, was your attention set on the Straw Hat Pirates. You weren’t a fan of the World Government, nor pirates; rather a wanderer that set out on sea to accomplish your own goal: finding some friends. You weren’t well received as a child; many called you estranged and unfortunate. So you had set out on the sea to prove those people wrong. After years of sailing to different islands across the Grand Line, you had made it to Water Seven somehow still alive, but still alone. 

That’s when you met the Straw Hat Pirates. Well, somewhat. You had decided to sneak into the train station the night after Iceberg’s attempted assassination, wanting to go away despite Aqua Laguna. But of course, with your incredible luck, you managed to miss the train. You paced around the station, thinking about your next course of plans when footsteps approached. A girl with tangerine hair and the renowned Paulie from the Dock One foremen charged into the station, demanding for answers. After a heated conversation and a close call, it eventually led to a mutual agreement between you and the orange hair girl. You’d help them get back one of their crew members, Nico Robin, and they would give you the materials to go the nearest island once the whole mess was over. Sure, you weren’t that skilled of a fighter; you only had a devil fruit power that essentially made you faster than the speed of light, but it was valuable enough for the girl to shake your hand and bring you aboard on their rescue mission.

Now you stood feets away from the dark haired woman herself, who found a spot on a cliff next to the coast, basking in the sun as it started to retire. You stood there idly, a basket in your hand. You tried not to make a noise so as to not disturb the poor woman’s needed peace, but this was Nico Robin you were facing. Nothing gets past her.

“Ah, Y/N, it’s you. What are you doing here?” Robin turned around, a faint smile on her face. Her shoulders relaxed at the sight of your face, as she turned her body to properly face you.

You blinked twice, your heart pounding as you shook your head, trying to avoid eye contact with the beauty in front of you. The sunlight accentuated her features, making blood rise to your cheeks as your skin got evidently red. You clutched onto the basket Sanji had given you earlier, trying to give the notion that your grip was causing you to overheat, even though you knew that made zero sense. 

You nodded your head, warily taking a step towards the woman, setting the basket down by her side. “You missed dinner. Sanji, I think his name was, told me to give you this since I’m going anyway.”

“You’re leaving? Already?” Robin mused, looking inside the basket. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to apologize to Sanji when I see him.”

“Yeah. Y-You’re back safe with your crew, and Nami has already paid for my ship. I don’t have any more business with you guys.”

“I see.” Robin takes a plate of food out from the basket and a piece of cutlery, as she began eating. “Would you stay with me, Y/N? I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you since… everything.”

“Huh? Oh. Uh, sure.” You hesitantly took a seat next to the woman, unsure whether to cross your legs or put them out. That left you with one leg crossed under a stretched out leg.

“I wanted to ask, Y/N, did you only agree to help my friends rescue me because of the deal they gave you? Or was there something else that prompted you to go to Eneis Lobby?” Robin asked out of the blue, her serene and elegant voice floating into your ear.

You stared at the waves calmly rocking back and forth, as if Aqua Laguna never happened. “It was half of the reason I decided to join.”

“Oh? If you do not mind, would you tell me the other reason you decided to go to Eneis Lobby?”

You shrugged, as your fingers dug into the soil, picking at the grass. “Well, I never really had any friends growing up. They called me weird and estranged, and always picked on me. But after I ate that devil fruit, they called me a monster and excluded me from everything. So I didn’t have any friends growing up. Now that I’m older, I want to sail across the seas to find friends or people I can call friends. And when I met you guys… or at least the six of ‘em, I guess I was moved. I’ve never heard or seen anyone do such bold things for a friend. You’re really lucky, you know? You have a group of people that prioritizes your wellbeing. I wish I had someone who’d do that for me too… but I know it’s not gonna happen to me. I move too fast for the world. No one can catch up to me.”

You couldn’t see her face, your eyes too busy counting each blade of grass, but you could feel that faint smile she had that brought warmth to you, eyes filled with understanding and not judgment.

“What makes you so certain you will not have anyone who will prioritize your wellbeing over theirs?” Robin gently asked.

Your fingers stopped moving, your eyes shifting towards the woman. You were met with a kind and warm smile, as she looked at you with confidence and encouragement. “I appreciate your help today, everything you did for my friends. For me. Even if it was just an agreement, I truly appreciate your help. You sound quite like someone I know.” Robin looked away, seemingly reminiscing upon a memory. “Someone I would love to be friends with.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Friends?”

“Yes. Friends.” Robin turned her head to look at you, as she handed you a piece of bread Sanji had packed. “I don’t understand your devil fruit power, but I do understand running that fast for a long duration must be draining.”

Despite the large meal you had eaten and fought over with Luffy, you gladly took the bread, shoving it down your throat without struggle nor hesitation. You immediately looked down as blush filled your cheeks. “S-Sorry. And thank you for the food.”

“Don’t be.” Robin softly chuckled, looking at you with an amused look. “You interest me, Y/N.”

“I do?” You asked.

“I do. Say, where do you plan on going?” 

“Um, I don’t know. I suppose wherever my log pose says I should go.” 

“I see.” Robin looked at the setting sun, a small smile on her face as she held onto the other piece of the bread, deep in thought. “May I propose something, Y/N?” “Sure, go ahead.” You answered, confusion evident in your voice.

“Sail with us. Or stay with us until we manage to reach the next island or wherever we go. Go on one trip with us to one island.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

Robin nodded her head. “That’s all. Join us on our captain’s next adventure. I’m certain Luffy will love to have you on his crew. I will love your company; I’m certain everyone else will.”

“There’s nothing in it for me?”

“Would you rather sail alone, searching island after island, year after year?”

You bit your lower lip, your eyes falling to each blade of grass. “Why are you offering this to me?”

Robin smiled. “Because I would love to be friends with you. Or at least make an attempt to be as close as friends, if not comrades. You sound like an amazing person with quite the unique devil fruit power; I’m very interested in you and your abilities. One trip to one island, and you may leave or do whatever you wish after. Does that sound good to you?”

You tilted your head, staring at the waves that reflected the sun’s radiant light. You stayed like that for a while, remaining silent even after Robin finished her meal, finally breaking your silence when she closed the basket lid. “You’d love to be friends with me?”

Robin looked at you with a smile on her face. “Certainly.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head as a low chuckle exited your mouth. “Really?”

“Really.”

You sucked your teeth. Despite being the fastest person alive, your brain still took its sweet time processing each word. “And if I said I would love to be friends with you too?”

“I would be delighted to hear that, Y/N.”

You finally smiled at her, returning that warm and kind smile she had given you. “Then let’s be friends.”

Robin let out a sigh of relief, as if she would’ve driven a harder bargain if you had turned down her deal. “Let’s be friends, Y/N.”

The two of you sat there admiring the sunset, silence filling the environment around you. It wasn’t awkward nor deafening, but a peaceful and serene one. A smile was plastered on your face, your inner child shining through as you had completed the one goal you had ever wanted since you were a child.

To have a friend. 

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ IDK HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME / RAZZMATAZZ always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

"Big shot, so what?"

"You took the money but the money couldn't buy a friend."

"I want you to leave me alone."

"They say the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't."

"You're a big shot here but nobody else knows."

"Go fly a kite until you're tangled in the hanging tree."

"Four in the morning but we've having such a lovely time."

"Mad as a hatter with a dagger and a dollar sign."

"Tip your hat and break your mother's heart."

"When the sun comes up you'll find a brand new god."

"You'll never gonna stop me."

"I'm never gonna quit."

"Lose yourself inside the city."

"Lose your mind inside the week."

"We can live while we're alive."

"Come inside, twist the knife."

"I'm a voluntary victim."

"Watch your colonial tongue."

"I'll watch you tighten the noose."

"Don't you lose all your control."

"You can't get into heaven if you haven't got a soul."

"They'll replace you with machines."

"Paralyzed by the sum of your parts."

"Abstract with a human heart."

"I'm captivated, but I'm so confused."

"Come and see the opening band."

"No one likes an opening band."

"Chances are they won't go far."

"Career is sure to end."

"Unfamiliar things will make us nervous."

"You've got the devil on your shoulder."

"You better shut your mouth just like I told ya."

"You've been controlling me through fiction."

"I got to break you like a bad addiction."

"I can't say no, I'm losing control."

"I'm having bad dreams."

"Nothing you can do will keep the bad things away from me."

"Despite your good intentions."

"I am just the new invention."

"Feels like you're running out of holy places."

"It's a miracle I'm standing."

"You're dragging me back."

"You're beautiful and evil too."

"You're sinister and vile."

"For you I'd die, or kill myself."

"I'd swing from the gallows and wave."

"I'd carousel into my grave."

"You're right down vicious."

"I can't help it, but I still wish I was with you."

"I'm a teenage beauty queen of sorts."

"I'm calculated, cold, without remorse."

"Only if you'd like me, I could fall in love with you."

"You're a holy quarantine."

"Could it be that it's only in my head."

"Give me something more for my wild imagination."

"Tell me that you're more than a sick fascination."

"You're with me all the time."

"I don't care about anything at all."

"I know that girls like you don't come with guarantees."

"You've got to spend your time, won't you spend it with me?"

"I hope we kiss goodnight."

"It might just end my life."

"I'll be a gentleman, or you can show me the door."

"I don't want to spend my life with anyone else."

"Pardon me if I forget your name."

"Is that any way to talk to me."

"Corrupting the young with your uncivil tongue."

"What a shame if you misspeak now."

"I need you here."

"There is no other place in the world I would rather be."

"Can't you stay right here forever, pretty please?"

"Where do you go when you're not home?"

"If I'm out of line, just show me the door."

"Don't hold your breath for goodness sake."

"You've got parliaments filled with parasites."

"Let's go paint the town on our way home."

"The blinking lights are breaking bones."

"Then you have that good old fashioned razzmatazz."

"You broke my heart again."

"Some things just cannot be fixed with sparkled tongues and politcs."

"In a fascist little paradox, we all become anonymous."

"I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind."

"I know that this time I have said too much."

"I've been too unkind."

"I tried to laugh about it."

"I covered it all up with lies."

"I tried to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes."

"Boys don't cry."

"I would break down at your feet and plead forgiveness, but I know it's too late."

"There's nothing I can do."

"I would tell you that I loved if I thought you would stay."

"I misjudged your limits."

"I pushed you too far."

"I took you for granted."

"I thought you needed me more."

"I would do most anything to get you back at my side."

[heavenwithgyu]

locked in heaven

pairing: vernon x gn!reader (mentions reader wearing skirt once when describing the outfit somewhat but other than that nothing else!)

genre: fluff !

a/n i got this idea from tiktok lol ! i used filters to come up with the premise (forced proximity and vernon) and the rest was just me so :P also costume party bc halloween is so close and idk how long i’ll keep this writing spree !! i havent written this much in so long its crazy :)) i took the songs mentioned from seungkwans playlist on spotify so its songs he actually listens to and i absolutely adore ftisland so seeing them on there made me so happy

proofread: sorta, tumblr deleted part of my draft so i had to rewrite some which i didn’t reread

warnings: seungkwan says an suggestive joke accidentally, reader repeats it, brief mentions of drinking (reader doesnt and neither does vernon) uhhh kiss/makeout scene

Seungkwan had finally convinced you to go to one of his halloween parties, when he first asked you about it a couple of years ago, you weren’t as close so you said no.

The year after when he asked, you had already agreed to going to another friends party so you had to decline, treating him to lunch because of how petty he was afterwards. Any time you would ask to hang out a few days after the party, he would be telling you to go ask your other friends before you finally caved and told him you’d pay for him. He agreed.

This year he had asked you before your other friend even began planning theirs, spurring you on with the idea that Vernon would be there. Seungkwan knew you had the fattest fucking crush on him and who were you to say no to being at a party with your crush?

It gave you the chance to get to know him better, so you agreed, telling him you had no idea what to be. He had given you the idea to be an angel, said the halo and wings would look good on you.

You should’ve suspected the reason why he instantly knew what you should be but you didn’t, which is why when Seungkwan pulled up to your house just as you had finished getting ready, Vernon following behind him and dressed as the devil, you knew you were in for one tonight.

“Oh you guys are matching! How cute!” Seungkwan mused once he got inside, Vernon’s eyes locked onto your outfit, his face unreadable as traced up from your white skirt to the halo that you had gotten on your head with a headband and a piece of wire.

“Don’t go corrupting them!” Seungkwan scolded playfully, slight shock overrided you at his words and then he seemed to realize what he said. “Oh, not like that, oh I could’ve worded that better,” he said, his hand covering his mouth and you were giggling, walking over to the other man.

A smile on your lips as you looked at him, his eyes pouring into yours. “You heard him, don’t go corrupting me,” you repeated, his eyes widening while Seungkwan was telling you to shut up, obviously annoyed with you spurring on his misspeak.

Another giggle left you while Seungkwan was pushing you out of your house, Vernon following the two of you out and shutting your door since you were being pushed all the way to Seungkwan’s car. He was scolding you the entire time, saying how it’s not nice to make fun of mistakes, that he is soo nice to you all the time and you treat him like this.

You got into the back seat, letting Vernon have the front seat since he had been sitting there on the way to your house so all his stuff was still up there. Seungkwan was still going on about how he had done so many things for you when Vernon was getting into the car, a laugh slipping out of his lips when he realized that.

Vernon put on some music to shut him up, Seungkwan not protesting since he enjoyed the song that was on, singing along to it immediately while beginning to drive to his house so he could get the party ready.

You knew it wouldn’t rake him long, he probably had most of it set up already and just had to do a few finishing touches like scattered decorations or something of the sorts. You began humming along to Take Me Now by FTISLAND, surprised since the song that had last played was one by Harry Styles.

He didn’t live that far away from you so it didn’t take long to get to your house, the next song started to play as he pulled up. He sighed as he turned off he car, normally if he liked the song enough, he would wait until it finishes to leave but he didn’t have the time to.

You all got out, holding your bag close to you since you had never gone to one of his parties before, you were close with all the guys but it would be more than just them there. Seungkwan asked you to help him put silly stickers around, one’s that were fake blood and had writing that said ‘help me’, and stuff like that.

You were reaching up to put one of the stickers where he told you, up close to the ceiling for some god awful reason, but you couldn’t quite get it there. You looked around for something to stand on, just to give yourself an extra inch or two because you knew Seungkwan would be picky.

“Here, I got it,” Vernon’s voice suddenly said from next to you, carefully grazing your fingers to take the sticker from you, sticking it where he saw Seungkwan tell you to.

You muttered a quick thank you, feeling your fingers buzz from the gesture, it was small, it was nothing, you knew you shouldn’t be this flustered over it, but it was him, you couldn’t help yourself.

A few of the others began to come in, Minghao was dressed as a cowboy, boots and all, a smile gracing your lips at the sight because he looked funny. “Howdy partner!” you called to him, he grumbled, Seungkwan coming over and laughing.

“Seokmin and I made a bet, I lost,” is all Minghao said before he was off into the kitchen, presumably looking for the alcohol to start the night off early. He was ticked off from what it seemed, he hated losing bets, he was a competitive person by all means.

Seokmin followed in after him quickly, absolutely beaming with pride while he was dressed up as Pennywise. “Did you guys see him?” he asked, a slight giggle in his voice and Seungkwan was quietly telling him he was a genius and that he should win bets more often.

Minghao came back out with a cup in his hand, a glare sent to the two who were giggling, Seungkwan instantly trying to find something to pull him out of his situation. “Oh, uhm, Vernon! Help me with the rest of these?” he seemed to have settled on continuing to decorate, holding up the pack.

You glanced at the boy who was still beside you, him blinking a couple times while looking at Seungkwan, “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” He walked over to the other, grabbing some and walking off to go put them places, not even waiting for Seungkwan to direct him.

A hum left you as you walked over to Hao, letting him complain about how Seokmin most definitely cheated somehow, just to see him wear this. He was planning on being Jack Skellington and had the makeup for him down but he just had to lose the bet, which he wouldn’t tell you about.

He brushed off the question both times you asked, so you just assumed he was holding onto the little bits of dignity he had left. “Y’know, you look like Woody from Toy Story,” you snickered after you looked at his outfit more, a loud sigh coming from him and then he was taking a swig of his cup.

“Whatever,” he muttered, walking off as more people began to file into the house, Seungkwan setting off towards where people weren’t to finish up and make it look like it wasn’t last minute.

You found yourself in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, surprised Seungkwan even had them in his fridge at a party to begin with, but you were grateful nonetheless. Sipping it as you walked out towards where the party had seemed to come alive spontaneously, music, people, everything.

While it wasn’t a lot of people, it was still people, you decided to walk around until you at least found someone you knew in the slightest, seeing Chan dressed as fucking Pikachu, no way.

You sat down next to him, holding in a laugh when he meets your eyes because he can see that little glint meaning you were going to make tease him for his outfit, a quick “Hey Chan—”

He quickly cut you off, “I don’t want to hear it,” him sighing right after and leaning his head back against the couch, sulking through his yellow face paint.

From the way he is sitting, you can tell he also painted his neck which causes a laugh to fall from you finally, him turning his head to face away from you at the sound, his nose scrunching.

You reached over and flicked one of his ears to his hoodie, giggling out “You look so cute~ Makes me wish I had a pokeball to—”

“I get it! Pikachu is funny,” He exclaims, making sure you didn’t get to actually make fun of him, which sucks the fun out of him being dressed like this.

A hum and you’re telling him goodbye, making sure to call him Pikachu instead of Chan which causes him to sulk more, walking off to go find someone you knew.

You wanted to find someone who was relatively alone because everyone who you were finding seemed to be very invested in their conversations would means you wouldn’t be spared the time of day.

Another swig of your water bottle as you finally settled on just roaming around, walking through the hallway and peeking into open rooms to find anyone who wasn’t caught up in something— or someone like Gyu was. He must’ve forgotten to shut the door or something because as you peeked your head in, you saw him making out with someone.

A sight you wished you could forget but also you were glad to see because at least he hadn’t gotten any further than that.

You got into a slightly deserted part of the hallway, leaning against the wall and pulling out your phone, trying to pass the time without getting super bored in the process.

You brought your hand up to open your water but a hand grabbed your wrist instead, looking up to see Seungkwan excitedly telling you, “We’re playing a game! C’mon.”

You didn’t protest, letting him lead you to a room that held a random people from the party, a couple of the boys, and Vernon. You quickly realized what they were playing, Spin The Bottle, at least you assumed with how everyone was sitting in a circle.

The thought of Vernon spinning the bottle and landing on someone else, kissing someone else right in front of you immediately crossed your mind.

You almost told Seungkwan that you didn’t want to play and left. Almost. The little devil on your shoulder was telling you all the possibilities if Vernon spun the bottle and it landed on you, that he would be kissing you.

So you sat down, all logic thrown out the window because there had to be at least 15 people and the chances of him landing on you out of 14? Slim. Close to none.

But there was a chance.

Seungkwan set a bottle in the middle, staying there, “So we all know what this is right?” he asked, a few people shaking their heads to where he was sighing, “It’s a combination of Spin The Bottle and Seven Minutes In Heaven, makes it more fun that way.”

Oh.

Your eyes wanted to look at Vernon, to see his reaction, though you were sure he already knew that since Seungkwan probably told him before he gathered people so your eyes stayed on Seungkwan.

“Who wants to go first?” he asked, his hand still on the bottle, and for some god forsaken reason, Vernon was saying he would.

Your stomach felt like it was in knots as his hand reached for the bottle, his eyes locking with yours before he was glancing around the circle. For some reason, your breath stopped, did he want to land on you?

No.

No you were sat across from him, of course he’d look at you right now, he would’ve looked at whoever was in your spot.

After what felt like an eternity, he spun it, your eyes staring intensely at it as you prayed to every possible God you could think of to have it land on you. You were an angel, they had to help you in your time of need.

The bottle began to slow, your nails wanting to dig into your palms but you tried to act like you didn’t care who it landed on, that the idea of him kissing someone else didn’t make your heart sting.

Because why would it land on you?

You were 1 out of 14, it was stupid chances and you should’ve never played and you wanted to look away to save yourself the disappointment whenever it stopped at— you.

It stopped at you.

Your eyes met Vernon’s, relief faintly on his features but you told yourself that you were imagining it, that he was just glad to have gotten someone he knows.

Why would he want to kiss you? He wouldn’t, he would’ve done it already if he did, there’s no way he wanted to be trapped in a closet with your for seven long minutes.

You were pulled, literally, out of your thoughts by Seungkwan tugging you to stand, Vernon’s arm in his other hand as he was leading you two to a door. You knew this door, this door led to a bathroom would led to another room which wasn’t frequented.

Gulping as Seungkwan pushed you into the other room, smiling at both of you with an evil grin, “See you two in seven minutes~” His voice was sickly sweet and you wanted to pass out when he closed the door.

It was you two, in a room. Alone. At least you weren’t pressed against each other in some tight closet.

“Have you, uhm, have you had your first kiss?” Vernon’s voice suddenly speaks but its quiet, you almost miss it, but you don’t because how could you miss his voice? Your eyes meet his, his hold worry.

You decide to tease him, “No, wanna be my first?” you ask nonchalantly, his eyes widen to comical levels while he’s opening his mouth to say something, shutting it right after. “I’m just kidding, Nonie, I’ve kissed people,” you tell him after a few seconds, walking over and for some reason, putting your hand on his arm.

You tell yourself it’s to help him relax but it’s most definitely just to feel his skin on yours even in the slightest way. “That was a terrible opener by the way,” more teasing leaves you, your hand also leaving him, you miss the way his fingers twitch as he wants to touch you instead.

He laughs softly, nodding, “Yeah, couldn’t think of anything better and the only thing on my mind was kissing so—” He cuts his sentence off short, seemingly thinking he said too much with the way he’s gulping, his eyes moving between yours quickly.

He’s nervous, you can tell, he’s hard to read to most people but to you? You can read him like the back of your hand, shallowly, you can never tell the reason he’s feeling it but you can tell what he’s feeling.

Wait.. the only thing on his mind was kissing? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he thinking of the game? Was he thinking of kissing someone else out there? Was he thinking of kissing you?

Your mind was racing with thoughts as you try to decode what he said, hoping by some miracle it’s a confession and you can finally kiss him.

But you can’t, it’s too vague, you don’t have enough to work with to come up with anything concrete. So you two are left looking at each other, words on the tip of your tongue that you want to spill out, that you want him to kiss you, but they don’t come.

Because while you’re silent, he is too, leaving you no indicator that he also wants it. So you’re left, looking at him. “Man, Seungkwan needs to clean this room,” Vernon suddenly says, you hadn’t noticed him look away and you peel your eyes away from him to look around, a laugh slipping past your throat.

“Yeah he really does, jeez,” you reply, not knowing how else to continue the conversation because all you can think about is what the fuck you should do. Fuck it. “Nonie,” you call out to him, his attention immediately on you, and you’re finishing your sentence before he can say anything, “you should kiss me.”

He doesn’t move, neither do you, but he seems to be frozen in his, not even breathing while he stares at you. “What?” he asks, dumbly, after a few seconds and you’re starting to think you’re making a huge mistake but you can’t turn back now so you’re just repeating yourself, quieter this time.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds again and your heart is racing and your body feeling like it’s about to throw up whatever you last ate and you realize just how dry your throat is gotten and how you left your water bottle out sitting in the circle still.

You’re too busy overthinking to see him walk over to you, his hand grazing your cheek pulls you back to reality, his eyes pouring into yours, silently asking if you were sure.

You nod slightly to him, letting him know you are, your hands reaching out to hold the back of his neck and he’s softly pressing his lips against yours.

It’s barely a kiss but it’s enough to feel as though matches had just struck your skin, your hands pulling him closer to kiss him more. He practically melts into you, his hands moving to grip your waist so he can ground himself.

You swear you’re losing your mind with how strong his cologne is, how his fingers dig into you to make sure you aren’t going to disappear, how his lips mold against yours— Your head is spinning. It’s too much, but it’s also not enough, you need him to kiss you harder.

It’s still featherlight and you need to feel his lips against yours more, he pulls back to breathe, you think, or find his sanity like you need to do, his eyes still closed. “Vernon,” you whisper, his eyebrows furrowing as you call him by his name, something you haven’t done in what feels like years, “Kiss me like you mean it.”

He smiles at you, his eyes practically sparking as he captures your lips in his again, finally pressing against yours firmly, his arms moving to wrap around you to hold you even closer when that doesn’t feel possible.

Your hands move to his hair, not caring that he had it done up and slicked back, he doesn’t seem to care either because he’s even smiling against you, tilting his head more to deepen the kiss.

Lungs are aching as you both sit there, absorbed in each other, but you couldn’t care, not when he’s like this with you. His lips part and yours do the same, his tongue carefully meeting yours before the door flies open, revealing Seungkwan standing there.

“I knew this would get you two together!” He exclaims triumphantly, a wide smile on his face while you two are practically jumping away from each other, heat spreading to both your cheeks.

You don’t say anything and just look at Vernon, him doing the same and then he’s walking over to the door, pushing Seungkwan out of the room. “Five more minutes,” he says, shutting the door and then walking back over to you, arms wrapping right back around you.

“I like you by the way,” he suddenly confesses, kissing you once again before you can respond and you’re left standing there torn— to kiss him back or confess back.

[augerer]

DEATH AS A FETISH: A fanmix for Her Most Serene Highness, Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, heir to the First House, the Emperor’s only daughter.

Dead!, My Chemical Romance | Succexy, Metric | Propaganda, MUSE | Beekeeper, Keaton Henson | Death as a Fetish, STRFKR | Oxen Hope, Mirah | Take Me Back, KONGOS | England Made Me, Black Box Recorder | I Miss That Feeling, Tennis | I Want It All, Arctic Monkeys | Wrecking Force, Voxtrot

[Listen on Youtube]

Album art: [credit 1] [credit 2]

[separate fanmix for Harrow the Ninth] [separate fanmix for Gideon the Ninth]

Track notes under the cut.

1. Dead!, My Chemical Romance

And if your heart stops beating I'll be here wondering Did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life ... Have you heard the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say, I Think they never liked you anyway

2. Succexy, Metric

Invasion’s so succexy Let’s drink to the military The glass is empty ... Passive attraction, programmed reaction Action distraction, more information Flesh saturation, lips on a napkin Ass ass ass

Note: she does show up for the first time in the book in military propaganda.

3. Propaganda, MUSE

Propaganda Propaganda Propaganda

You ate my soul just like a death eater I'm the ocean you're an oil slick now But I'm choking on your thought pollution

4. Beekeeper, Keaton Henson

Cause I'm just getting started, let me offend The devil's got nothing on me, my friend All I want is to be left alone Tact from me is like blood from a stone

5. Death as a Fetish, STRFKR

Ghost dad, keeping the secrets And float the dead ones home ... You’re born (death as a fetish) Your sins (death as a fetish)

6. Oxen Hope, Mirah

You sent me off without a warning Wasn't just a threat and man, that was no joke Did you know you'd struck the final blow To my faithful oxen hope?

We thought we knew we wanted what we had But you busted your side of the yoke So I left with almost nothing but a gaping hole Yes, I did really went for broke ... And I don't question, no, I don't doubt Now that I've tried living with and without That was a hard, hard muscle to grow And harder still to let go ...

And the ride we rode had danger in it We thought we could last yeah we were real strong swimmers But we got flooded, yes, we got rolled And we both went down soon as you cut the rope

7. Take Me Back, KONGOS

And once again the question's asked I answer yes! but the moment's passed I'm guess I'm always tomorrow-bound How many more till I'm underground?

“Kill me,” said Kiriona./“No. You’re dead,” said Paul.

8. England Made Me, Black Box Recorder

I need my privacy, I lead a secret life, Sleep with the enemy then betray both sides, I traveled all my life, But never got away from the killing job, And the garden shed,

“Then do it, coward,” Crux said. “Do it--the knife is before you; the work has been done.”

“Did you know I’m God’s child?” Kiriona demanded. “Did you know all the things you did--all the shit you pulled--every single thing you did, every lock you snapped on me, every cuff you put on me, every--every crappy plate of food you put in front of me, every word--every look--did you know I was the real, true-blue daughter of the Emperor? I want you to know that--I want you to know what I am!”

“You remain--what you are,” said Crux.

Note: Also see Ianthe accusing her of being a “little three way double crosser”. “England” here representing an unpleasant place in the imperial core to grow up.

9. I Miss That Feeling, Tennis

I can be true to you, even when losing Every little thing I've ever known And all of the love I've ever shown Something like pleasure, you'd never believe it Every little need dismantling Recorded by the needle of an EKG I miss that feeling Flicker hot and hovering Like my own discovering Eagerly, tenderly

And Kiriona kept saying--”It didn’t feel good. . . Fuck. . . It didn’t feel good. Why didn’t it feel good?”/A rising, hysterical note. “Why didn’t it feel good? You fucking old... You hideous, cruel... you bastard... Why didn’t... Why can’t I...”

10. I Want It All, Arctic Monkeys

Blind faith, heartache. mind games, mistakes My sweet fireball, my sweet rigmarole I want it all, I want it all

Old dogs, new tricks, can you feel it? Space age country girl, stone cold miracle I want it all, I want it all And then suddenly it hit me, it's a year ago Since I drank miniature whiskey and we shared your Coke Say, ain't it just like you to kiss me and then hit the road? Leave me listening to the Stones' "2000 Light Years from Home"

11. Wrecking Force, Voxtrot

'Cause somebody once said when I was young That playing dead is just no fun But these days I am a man, I'm not a boy

And you can be anyone Or just some mother's wasted son Oh you can be your own god if you want to

Come on to my side you will define me with a knife Spare me all the miseries that tear apart your life Oh you can lose yourself in art Or you can break somebody's heart in two Jump on in, the water's fine for swimming

Go on split the scene and let the dirty half come clean You are the wrecking force, you are the wrecking force In me, in me 'Cause I'm a soft machine, I was hard when I was sixteen You are the wrecking force, you are the wrecking force In me, in me

Note: More of a general theme for the series than for Kiriona specifically.

[k--havok]

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫 (copy and pasted what you sent me +1 😈)

Shit. Hung by my own petard it seems. I've been discovery writing a fifth chapter to Osiris' Trials since my current WIPs I've been focusing on outlining instead. So here's 70 new sentences from that WIP!

--

That monster of a man did not stand in the doorway. Rather, an older woman did, dressed in black scrubs with golden trimming. She wore no name tag. Her graying hair was piled in a bun atop her head and round glasses sat on her squat nose. She carried in a metal tray. From his vantage point on the bed, Dakarai could not quite see what she had brought in.

Her steps were silent as she padded over to him. She set the tray on the nightstand.

Dakarai watched every twitch of her wrinkled fingers, every flutter of her heavy eyes like that of a predator eyeing his prey. He did not blink. He merely stared at her with his dulled gaze.

The woman did not bother to check his heart monitor, which beeped slightly faster than before. The damn traitor. She did not bother to peel back the gauze swaddling his wounds. She simply cast a quick, cold glance at him before taking out her smartphone. She tapped something out on it, the soft thunk thunk of the quick text beating out of time to that of Dakarai’s heartbeat. The phone chimed a tune too happy for Dakarai’s liking, signaling the text went through successfully.

Then, the woman got to work. She did not speak to him. She pulled at the gauze, unwinding it from his arms and legs.

Dakarai had half a mind to snap at her. To bury his blunted teeth into her wizened hands. To draw fresh blood from her half-dead veins, which burst with age. But he held back.

She was not gentle. She was not kind. She worked with a cold, clinical nature, uncaring with how he winced as she changed his bandages. She rubbed an ointment into his puckered wounds, which burned; aiming for an infection that hopefully was not there.

No IV pole hung next to his bed. And she did not bring any form of opioids to numb the pain of his wounds. But Dakarai was used to pain. He was born into it as his mother screamed out from natural birth. Ever since his first early breath into the world, Dakarai had to fight back against agony and death. Hunger and strife.

The sting from the gauze pulling at barely-healed scabs was nothing in comparison to the piercing burn of his failure.

She wrapped fresh bandages across his wounds. Then, once her work was done, stepped back and sat in one of the comfortable chairs across the room. She took out her phone.

The happy, cheerful music of some sort of match-three game toyed with Dakarai’s sensibilities. He ground his teeth together, wincing. He yearned for silence.

He did not know how long he laid in bed, waiting. The woman said nothing. He said nothing. He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

Perhaps someone more charismatic would have spoken to her. Would have coaxed her into sharing secrets, into pity, and into distrustful arms. Perhaps, if Dakarai knew how to play the social game, he could have reminded her of a past lover. Grandson. Babe. Friend. Whoever he needed to be for her to give him what he needed.

Dakarai had never been good at such a game. And now, too much time had passed for him to break the silence. He was on his own.

He had been on his own for most of his life now. That would not change now.

The abrupt halting of her game, and the shuffle of her scrubs as she shot to her feet broke Dakarai from his musings. He tensed as the door creaked open.

The woman finally spoke. “He is still awake, Mr. Nimr. Wounds are clean. He appears to be cognizant.”

The devil’s voice was too smooth, too soft, for Dakarai’s liking. It slithered into his bones, rotting him from the inside out. “Has he spoken yet?”

“No sir.”

“Very well. You are dismissed.”

From his peripherals, Dakarai watched as the woman inclined her head.

[carrionnewt]

relay (astarion/reader)

ao3

words: 4.1k

Summary:

(I don't want to hurt myself even more) //

Astarion has spent an eternity as Cazador's servant. For half that time, he's been somewhat aware of another vampire lord, a friend of Cazador's-- he's seen glimpses of them in the palace's halls, in the grandiose parties thrown in the ballroom, and now here in the guest bedroom.

At first, he begs them for their story of freedom.

a/n: Tav is gender-neutral & their name is never mentioned -- im making a pt.2 smutfic where it starts when astarion gets on his knees 🙏

//

Disgusting. The whole thing ticked under your skin, and there was nothing more you’d like than to leave. 

Smoothing down the silken fabrics of your intricate attire, the gentle orchestra of the bards grated your ears. The Szarr Palace’s ballroom that trapped you was grand. Grand enough to impress you the first time you attended one of his silly parties. He threw one every moon cycle. Just on the cusp of the full moon, just as the wicked creatures of the night got antsy for blood. 

You put your thumb to your lips. Sharp, your eyes traced dancing aristocrats and politicians alike. 

It was getting tiresome. Cazador and his appearances, him and his insistence on being the one to pull Baldur Gate’s strings. Sometimes the fact that he lagged behind newer, younger nobodies was amusing enough for you to forget your annoyance. 

That Gortash fellow, to name one. How quickly he rose from nothing. A handsome and charismatic young man– though his visage was much akin to a wet dog, Gortash was still more appealing than Cazador. 

“I’d like to think,” Speak of the devil. You hadn’t even noticed him slink up to you, though you were sure the manner he did it was in the grandeur sort. “That you aren’t going to squirrel away as you always do, hm?” 

Taking the chilled wine glass in your hand and putting it to your lips– not yet drinking, just musing over the thought– you turned your head to look at him— Cazador, with his slicked-back hair and unattractively sharp features. You studied him. For a moment, nothing more. 

He was in a good mood. Something just went his way. You knew he had dirt on one of the Flaming Fist officers, so perhaps he just cornered them into a favor. He was in a good mood– and it’d be wise to keep it that way. You raised a brow in a perfectly manicured expression, and a light smile played on your painted lips. 

“Of course not, my lord,” An endearing term that only stemmed from how long you’ve known each other. Little over a century. Not that you were counting the years until you could move to the other side of the Sword Coast or anything. “I am simply finding it hard to restrain myself right now. With how these nobles move and flourish, I cannot think of anything but the blood running under their thin skin.” 

“Oh?” Cazador’s attention flitted from your face. Back to the ballroom’s floor, back to his esteemed guests. “I suppose I understand your plight. But I have already marked the most beautiful in the room. Unfortunately, my dear, you’ll have to feed off scraps tonight.” 

Tilting the glass pressed to your lips, you let the wine give you a respite from the conversation. 

“... Yes, I’m sure,” Even though you were able to control your hunger and your desires, playing into his idea of you– the illusion that you were no more than an immature vampire who managed to become pure by a stroke of luck– made your fingers twitch to rip your hair out by the very roots. “I’ll wait until I go back home for the night to feed. But I…” 

Cazador was in a good mood. Still, you didn’t want to talk to him or any nobles eyeing your unlikely duo standing in front of an impeccably furnished window. You make a show of tapping a finger to your chin. Deep in thought– just for his viewing pleasure. 

“Oh my. I mustn’t ruin your wonderful ball, Lord Szarr. What a blight that would be. If I could keep my spawn on as tight of a leash as yours, I’d have been able to bring one with me as my blood bag for the night,” Tilting your wine glass as you talked, you watched the dark liquid swirl. “Pity, pity. I have never been as proficient as working the mind as you.” 

He exhaled. A huff, an amused noise that let you know he was proud of himself. Cazador lost his focus on you entirely. Now, his gaze flitted across the ballroom. Through its patrons and guests, he searched for a head of white hair. “It’s a talent I’ve finely honed, yes.” 

“I never tire of your demonstrations,” You said lowly, and too, your eyes searched. Where was his little star? Not far from him, surely. Never far from him. “I am good with business. Not so much intrapersonal nonsense that goes on between. But… I believe if I were able to have one of my spawns as obedient as yours, I’d be able to fully enjoy your next splendid ball. I won’t squirrel away, as you so affectionately said.” 

“You just need to break them,” Cazador’s voice dropped. Both to protect yourselves from prying ears, but he was also speaking quicker– more excitedly. Psychological intrigue was his favorite self-indulgence. “We have the gift of immortality, and it pains me that you’ve yet to explore the weak human psyche. Perhaps that’ll change tonight.” 

“I do hope it will,” Hiding your smile behind the chilled glass, you felt Cazador’s demeanor lighten. Following his eyes led you right to him. The jewel of his servants, dressed in a uniform overcoat with the same frilly white dress shirt you’ve seen him don for the past century. “A deal, then?” 

Cazador didn’t even seem to hear you. He was much too entranced by his plaything. He tilted his chin up slightly, an affirmative gesture. “I’m listening.” 

“You faithfully entrust your favorite spawn to me for the night,” You watched as Astarion animatedly excused himself from the conversation he was entertaining (his first mistake, or was it a deliberate act of defiance?), “I some take notes, and by the next ball I’ll be fully… social, with a servant in tow. It works, doesn't it? You won’t ever have to worry about getting to be ‘too much’ at one of your events– because of my hunger, that is.” 

Which, believe it or not, did happen fifty or so years ago. It was a mild scandal– how eagerly you dug your nails into the arms of a ‘suitor’ and dragged them to ‘Cazador’s bedroom’! No, it was just a persistent noble who was pissing you off. It was a miracle they left the party alive. 

“Child,” Cazador demeaned when Astarion drew closer. Out from the crowd of lively bodies, closer to your long-dead chill. He held himself in a very particular posture when he addressed him like this: his head raised, eyes slanted down at him. The spawn fell into a matching demeanor: his chin lowered, and he raised his red eyes at him. “What have you been up to?” 

Astarion didn’t avert his stare. Already more notable than the other servants, than the others who scurried in Cazador’s overwhelming presence. Instead, he spoke evenly– practiced, weighted. “I’ve been tending to your guests.” 

“Very good, boy,” Cazador said, and you now just noted the silver tray of finger foods precariously balanced on Astarion’s hand. His bare hand. Which, in its casted shadows, was starting to redden. How interesting. 

Cazador analyzed his ward’s face, then tore away. For the first time since Astarion was mentioned, he glanced at you. “You’ll be under our dear noble’s jurisdiction for the rest of the night. Do not misbehave.” 

With the last hiss, Cazador leaned in– his lips at Astarion’s pointed ear. Low, cold. The spawn’s jaw tightened. A muscle in his cheek twitched. His throat moved with a thick, nervous swallow. For a moment, he stared at the side of Cazador’s face (you couldn’t imagine him so close. Cazador smelled like a ruminated mummy) before forcing his attention away in an unsurmountable show of willpower. He fixed his eyes on you instead. 

What an interesting look. Astarion had long, dark eyelashes, framing his watery eyes very femininely. How piercing the color; in the dim, gothic lighting, the shade of red his eyes bore dark. It reminded you of a set of ruby gemstones you had. Not to mention the smoldering emotion– fiery resentment barely kept back by a thin, feigned veil.  

Astarion seemed to be many things. ‘Tamed’ was not one of them. 

“If you insist.” He mumbled, and Cazador finally retreated. 

Looking between the two of you, the vampire lord had a rather cruel tilt to his politician’s smile. “Don’t have too much fun, my dear. Try to leave him… sensible, by the time you return him to me, yes? It’s easy to get carried away. He makes the prettiest noises.” 

“Of course,” Impeccable, you took a step away from Cazador. A quick survey of the ballroom revealed a handful of eyes on you, but you didn’t particularly care; you would outlive every one of these ant-like aristocrats. Sooner or later, you’ll hear the crunch of their skulls under someone’s heel. With that wistful thought, you beckoned the little star to follow you. “Come, Astarion.” 

You knew Cazador’s palace very well. Many times have the two of you spent bickering over his decoration choices– with his ghoulish appearance, eerie mansion, and actual bats roosting in some parts of the structure, you told him everything was a bit on the nose. He digressed. So when you passed by the table of drinks on the way out, you swapped your empty glass with a bottle of finely aged Ashblossom Wine and popped the cap with a curved nail. 

Astarion was silent while you moved through the winding halls. Lessar servants moved out of the way and bowed their heads to you. Mortals who vied for the curse of vampirism– their eyes were piercing, following not you, but the spawn at your tail. Greedy and envious stares. Whether or not this bothered him, you didn’t check. You only heard him handing off the silver platter to the first body you came across. 

At the top of the lavish staircase, you made a right and waltzed down the hall. At the twelfth gold-accented mahogany door, you stopped. 

“You sure seem to know your way around,” Astarion said, and his voice was much smoother than in the ballroom. Not relaxed. No, there was still a twinge of unease that dripped from his words still.  

“Mhm.” Was the response you dignified him with, and you pushed open the door by its gilded handle. 

The room was as luxurious as the rest of Cazador’s palace. A velvety red carpet, a king-sized bed with a frame of hard maple, fine dressers, and wardrobes with shiny trinkets and amenities. Other pieces of expensive furniture were laid out appeasingly. You strode to the dresser, watching the door close in the lifeless reflection. Lifting the bottle of Ashblossom Wine, you waved over your shoulder. “Take a seat, Astarion.” 

He sat noiselessly. You took a swig of the spiced drink and savored its liquid smooth— one of your more profitable flavors, and certainly one of your first picks. Letting your hand fall limp at your side, you leaned against the dresser and turned to face him, free hand moving to loosen your stuffy clothing, “Ugh. I’m not–” 

Your eyes dropped. Astarion’s broad-shouldered form was knelt on the ground, his back straight and his knees pressing into the downy rug. He refused to bow his head, even in such a subservient posture. Reflecting on your surprise, you raised your eyebrows at him. 

“... I meant in a chair, Astarion.” You put a hand to your face in exasperation, the other loosely on the weighted bottle. “Nine hells. I am not Cazador. Make that distinction now.” 

His eyes, a much brighter red in the room’s enchanted light, caught a clear note of surprise. Then, his lips parted. 

“I knew that,” Astarion fumbled to regain himself, and you had never seen someone rise to their feet so quickly. “Haven’t you seen the newest clerical article in Baldur’s Mouth? Sitting on your ankles does wonders for your joint health.” 

“I’m sure,” You dismissed, turning your head to the side. “Like you need to worry about things like that.” 

“Longevity is not without its drawbacks,” He went to a chair, but notably the one closest to him– and he had a slight hesitancy in how he moved. Astarion wanted to stare but kept averting his effeminate eyes. “Got to keep young and spry, after all. Not all of us have the privilege of bathing in virgin’s blood every other day.” 

“He told you about that?” The wine bottle almost slipped from your clawed hand from the sudden revelation. This spawn was good on his feet. You embarrassed him, and he dropped some intimate fact about you like it was nothing! Wiping the surprised look off your face, you relaxed your posture. “Tell me, what else do you know about me?” 

“That was a lucky guess– you just seemed the type. And he doesn’t talk about you,” Astarion mimicked your relaxed posture. He crossed his legs, leaned back, and propped his face on his knuckles. Still, the stress from his shoulders did not leech. “Not really. You’re the vintner, aren’t you?” 

In a mock toast, you tilted your bottle towards him. “Has my name on it, too.” 

“Ah.” 

Something in his eyes caught in the light. A twitch of his lips accompanied. Curious? Was he curious? Yet he bit down whatever words prattled on his tongue, stopping them just before they could tumble out and ruin the evening. 

“Catch,” You tossed the bottle to him. He startled terribly, but smoothly caught it out of the air. He inspected it– glancing between the label and you. “You can have the rest. Finest wine in Faerûn, guaranteed.” 

“I’ve heard,” Astarion said, and he studied your demeanor. Was he trying to decide if he could trust you or not? He was going to drink either way. You knew for a fact that Cazador didn’t treat his property to luxuries like alcohol. Not unless he was pouring it over their open cuts, anyway. “Are you going to keep me in suspense about what we’re doing this fine evening, or can you just tell me? I’ve never liked surprises much. You’d have to get a different spawn for that, I’m afraid.” 

“What the tongue,” You mused and briefly wondered how snarky he was when there wasn’t such a power dynamic. “I don’t have anything planned. I was just getting dreadfully bored of your master’s lackluster party.” 

His face relaxed from its slight grimace, and he leaned in. “Aren’t they just the dullest thing?” 

Here it was. The key to getting Astarion to drop his guard was just criticizing Cazador! Perfect. You gestured with your hand, still leaning most of your weight on the fancy dresser. “He thinks them high fashion, too. It’s embarrassing. I’ll have you know, Cazador’s never invited to any of the Four Grand Duke’s parties.”

For the first time tonight, Astarion grinned. His little fangs glinted in the dim light. “Really? Do tell me more.” 

“Oh,” You got tired of leaning against the dresser and finally went over to the bed, sitting on the edge. “Not even Duke Eltan can bear his face. No noble enjoys entertaining Cazador. Whatever service they think he could do for them, I can do the same. So I catch all of their invites.” 

He raised the bottle to his lips and tilted his head, taking a swig of the drink like it was cheap beer. “I hardly blame them. Your company isn’t nearly as bile-inducing.” 

With the way he swiped his tongue over his lips and how he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, you could only understand the age-old reach of hunger. Vampiric, primal. He was trying to hide the urge but was doing a poor job of it. Besides– you could hear his faint heartbeat quicken. From stress or something else was indiscernible.

“Honeyed words will not flatter me so easily,” You said amusedly. Cazador did keep him on a tight leash. Maybe being treated like an equal by someone of his master’s status was something Astarion craved. Whatever was happening, he was enjoying it, judging by his still-crossed legs. “Relax. I’m not going to send you to your Master covered in little marks.” 

The tension in his body did not lessen. He moved and shifted in his seat like it did, but you had a keen eye and he was young. Astarion’s voice was thick with his sardonics. “Oh, what a relief to hear. I won’t get sent to the kennels just because you wanted to have a little fun.” 

Your eyes flashed. In delight, maybe– because he finally dropped the performer’s curtain to how he felt. The string tying his emotional baggage started to fray. 

“Vindictive, are you?” You murmured and met his fearful eyes. “I told you a minute ago. I am not him.” 

“Well, I’ve never met a vampire lord who played nice,” He bit. “I’m still waiting for you to drop your pleasantries act. Hells, you’re even sitting on the bed right now! There is one reason and one reason only that my master’s ‘friends’ drag me to the guest rooms. Which by all means for someone like you I’m more than happy to provide, but can you blame me for getting a little antsy?” 

So he was trying to goad you into just taking him? In a roundabout way. In another lifetime, perhaps, you would’ve done just that. For now… the prospect was entirely uninteresting. You grabbed one of the lush pillows and propped it behind your lower back.

“I can assure you I’m very real, though ‘nice’ isn’t a term I’m too familiar with,” While you talked, he took another drink. The bottle should be nearly empty by now. The poor little spawn didn’t have a fraction of your tolerance and seemed to be letting himself get carried away. “I was simply getting bored. Besides, Cazador talks about you more than you know. I wanted to know what I’ve been missing this past century.” 

“Like I’m some show pony.” Astarion bitterly mumbled. He ran a hand through his mussed hair, preening in a way you weren’t sure he realized.

You smiled. “Something like that.” 

“Well, he talks about you too,” He said quickly, tacking the sentiment onto his prior thought. “Too much. I’d be careful. He’s threatened by you. It’s a miracle I’m even in this room.” 

While not surprising, the very thought of Cazador quaking in his boots on what he planned to do about you was hilarious. You barked a laugh, your hand fluttering to your chest. “Oh, oh my. Well, little spawn, thank you for the heads up.” 

“I’m being serious!” The bottle of wine lolled from his hands, and he put it on the floor next to him before it slipped and shattered. “I don’t even know how you can fraternize with him so carelessly.” 

“Someone sounds worried,” You teased. “I’ll be just fine.” 

“Tell me how you did it,” Astarion leaned forward. At the edge of his seat, his eyes desperately searching for something in your face. “Tell me how you did it before it’s too late. How did you– how did you drink the blood of your master? How did you become a lord?” 

Ah. What a surprising letdown. He was getting so frantic, so caught up, just because he wanted to be free? You climbed out of serfdom over a century ago, but it was recent and painful enough for you to sympathize with the man. 

“And what’ll you do with this knowledge?” You sighed, though your softening demeanor was making it difficult to play hard to get. “What’ll you do for this knowledge?” 

“It’s not like what worked for you will work for me,” His stammer was a poor attempt at downplaying it. “Besides, we’ve exchanged less than stellar comments about my– about him. I thought I was safe in assuming you didn’t like him. The enemy of my enemy is a friend and all that.” 

“That’s true. I intended on telling you anyway, I just wanted to mess with you.” Reaching into the innermost pocket of your intricate outfit, you pulled out a flask. Astarion seemed surprised. “What? This is literally my job. Anyways, you’re going to insist I’m lying– but I admit I had to get help.” 

“From who?” Astarion disregarded your show of alcoholism, instead greedily pressing for more information. “Who would be stupid enough to stand up to a vampire lord?”

“I was under my captor for three centuries,” You punctuated it by holding up three fingers, “Three centuries. I shouldn’t have made it out. No, not really. But nearer to the last… twenty or so years, I stumbled into a little group.” 

“I can’t last that long,” Astarion’s voice dropped to a low murmur. Realization set in, and it reflected in his watery eyes. “Oh, shit. I can’t last that long. Tell me about this group.” 

“No one special,” Another gulp from your flask. It wasn’t strong enough, but it burned when it went down your throat. “But they were a new look on life. A new way to live. I was a little braindead back then, from the near-eternity, so after I realized there was something different out there for me– we schemed.” 

“So you managed to get some of your former master’s blood with this group,” Astarion tapped his fingers on the chair’s armrest. “And you escaped, then it was all kumbayah?”

You snapped at him, “Be patient. As far as I’m concerned, I’m doing you a favor.” 

Though restless and shaky, Astarion pursed his lips shut. 

“Anyway, I’ve long fallen out of contact with them. The ‘leader’ of the group, ironically a lycan bloodhunter, was the one who got a vial. We left the city. I left that part of Faerûn entirely. I went with them, at first, but they were just as bad,” You paused. “Not as bad, but a little below that. Out of the frying pan into the fire, as they say. I left them too. They’re still alive, I assume. They all are. All powerful enough to live forever. Just… out there. But I don’t look the same as I did all that time ago. I don’t carry the same name. I am not the same person. If you’re lucky, you won’t be either by the time you escape.” 

Astarion grimaced. “You’re telling me that if I am ever to get out from Cazador’s thumb, I need some kind of external help? And even then, I’ll live in fear for the rest of my life?”

“Yep,” You didn’t look at him. Instead, your eyes blurred, and you stared off into non-discrepant space. “Victims are hardly as lucky as media portrays, you know.” 

“That’s bullshit,” He simmered and stood up. Astarion’s anger wasn’t turned at you, surprisingly. Instead, he paced throughout the room. “I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve any of this!”

“Well neither did I, spawn,” You spat. The cold flask in your hands weighed empty. “Neither did I.” 

Astarion paced. His footsteps against the floor were the only things breaking the tense silence. He was only so upset because briefly, you had been something more precious than anything else in the palace. You had represented his freedom. But the magician’s cape atop your bird cage had been ripped away; you were free, but forever burdened by the open sores of your past. 

His illusion of a perfect escape shattered, and it made him volatile. 

“I wish you luck,” Your words were starting to slur. Just a little messy, your tongue was thick in your mouth. Astarion’s rabid pacing was more in tune with a stumble now too. “Because you will break free. It’s in your nature. It’s just a matter of time.”

“I have endured so much,” He seethed, and again his hand was in his hair with curved nails digging into his scalp. “And it’s a matter of time? Time!? I have to live with him for– you were there for three centuries?” 

“I should be dead,” You stood. Astarion’s head whipped towards you, and he clumsily took a step back when you strode for the door. “But I’m not. I lived. You’ll live, too. Even if you don’t want to.” 

“Like that’s comforting.” 

You threw the door open and stuck your head out. There, much further down the hall, was one of Cazador’s little footmen. Waving, you raised your voice. “Hey, you. Bring me as many bottles of wine as you can carry. Quickly.” 

They froze before scampering off. Then, you looked to Astarion. From the long-casted shadows of the door, he looked so small. The broad-shouldered charismatic sire was reduced to a mess of equal parts fury, indignation, desperation, and fear. 

“Let’s drink until we forget all about this conversation,” You offered. Your voice was quiet– the shushing of a wounded animal. “And until Cazador kicks me out in the morning.”

The proposition didn’t do much to soothe him. Astarion’s breath shuddered, and his voice trembled. A stowaway to the shadows, he hugged himself. “Deal.”

[lesbianwriter]

Is there any chance you could continue the hero and villain tease civilian story? I really liked that one- also, the link to the 7th (i think) part doesn’t lead to anything so idk if you could fix that please I really liked that story, thanks

Idk what the issue with the link was but I think it’s fixed now — thanks for pointing it out :)

All parts on my master list.

Hero and Villain Tease Civilian Part 10

Civilian sat in the room. Alone.

From the looks of the place, it didn’t seem like she’d be tortured—there was a noticeable lack of torture tools—but Hero had a way to turn anything into torture, so all Civilian had to do was wait. Wait for the tripwire to snap; wait for the trigger to be pulled; wait for her inevitable doom.

There was nothing to fight against anymore. There was no point in trying to squirm out of her ropes and escape. It was a futile battle, the tug of war between a predator and prey, and the odds were stacked against her from every angle.

Hero was stronger, braver, and she was able to revel in her darker, more sadistic qualities without shame. Villain had to ability to conceal her faults, covering the cracks in her facade with masterful deceit, and though Civilian didn’t know what her power was, Villain didn’t seem to need on—she was still dangerous in ways that Civilian couldn’t dream to be, with or without powers. Supervillain was Supervillain. Though her ability to manipulate glass didn’t seem strong on paper, actually experiencing her turning every inch of glass in the room into a pristine, pointed edge was terrifying.

Civilian wasn’t escaping.

All their was to do was wait.

A clock in the background ticked, distracting her from her thoughts ever once in awhile to wonder how long she’d been sitting and waiting.

By the third hour, the bedroom door opened, and Villain and Hero stood in the doorway.

Hero was on Villain’s shoulder like a devil, smiling with glee as she looked at Civilian, but Villain on the other hand was far from smiling. Her lips were set in a grimace and there were faint but still noticeable dark circles beginning to form under her eyes.

“Someones in trouble.” Hero mused, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching with amusement.

“You’re next.” Villain muttered, side-eyeing Hero with a gaze that could slice straight through obsidian. That damning gaze turned to Civilian next. “And just what did you think you were doing? Running off when my mother is hunting you down! Already that’s pretty bad, but now of all times?! You’re not stupid, so why?!”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” Was all Civilian could think of. Her tongue turned to stone when she was faced with Villain’s Medusa-like gaze.

Villain pulled a switchblade from her pocket, the sharp silver tip shining in the light. “Civilian, I don’t think you’ve actually been listening to me,” she began cutting the ropes around her captive, “and I’m not going to sit here and explain it to you—I want you to tell me your perspective, because to me, it feels like you refuse to listen to me.”

Civilian looked up at Villain with wide eyes, shocked that the blade wasn’t tearing gashes down her skin.

“I’m waiting.”

“I had a life, I had things to go back to—and you took that from me! It’s not fair!” Civilian leaned away from Villain, her heart beating rapidly. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say when you’re you?”

Hero made a hissing sound, as if burned by a hot piece of metal. “Are you sure that’s the syntax you wanna use, Civilian?”

Civilian didn’t have much, but she had a home. She had a favorite show that she recorded to watch when she got home from work, and she had friends she occasionally met up with—not often enough for them to notice her disappearance, however…

Breathing shakily, she tried to press as far away as she could from Villain—she just needed to get away. Villain was suffocating her with her dangerous, smoky aura.

“The other option was death.” Villain took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to die.”

“That didn’t stop you with the others!”

…

It was deathly silent—Civilian could’ve heard a pin drop from a mile away, from how completely and utterly silent it was in that room.

Even Hero didn’t have anything to say.

That was how she knew she truly messed up, because if Hero of all people wasn’t saying anything, then it was worse than bad.

Civilian didn’t even know where it had come from. She hadn’t planned on saying it, but then Villain was acting like she was a saint for not killing her, and something in her finally snapped. The floodgates burst open, and the words she’d been containing for so long had just…spilled out. She regretted it now that she stewed in the silent anticipation of what Villain would say, but also…what would it matter if she was killed?

She was doomed no matter what—she might as well get a few words in so that she wouldn’t die a complete doormat.

Something in Villain’s eyes hardened. “I have fought tooth and nail to keep you alive, do you want to die? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t want to, but you’re gonna do it eventually!” Civilian argued; her eyes burned with tears and she fought the urge to faint and pretend this was all a nightmare when she woke up.

She didn’t wanna die!

She didn’t want to die, she wanted to go home again and be alone and see her friends, but her death has been sealed the moment she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The least she could do to die with a scrap of dignity was to go down kicking and screaming instead of compliantly, as if she were Villain’s lapdog.

“Why won’t you listen?! I don’t want to kill you—everything I’ve done since you found out has been for protecting you!” Villain’s eyes were wide. Desperate. Her entire body was shaking, and there was a terrifying feeling of raw power radiating from her.

Quickly, Hero stood up and wrapped her arms around Villain, putting a blockade between the criminal and the civilian. “Hey, hey. Calm down, darling—I promise it’s okay, but we don’t want an accident, right? Why don’t you go to sleep here?”

Villain was shaking harder. “No, I can’t! Mother will—“

“Shh.” Hero carded a hand in Villain’s hair. “Everything’s under control, okay? Your power, the situation. It’s perfectly fine.”

Hero led Villain out of the room, and all Civilian could do was stare after the two of them.

———

———

“What was that?” Civilian asked, when Hero brought her a plate of food.

“You chose a wise time to start piping up.” Hero remarked, raising a brow. She wasn’t smiling anymore. There was no single fleck of amusement in her expression. “Her power was about to burst out of control—we’d both be dead if it escalated.”

Her hands shaking, Civilian took the plate of food. The door hadn’t ever been locked, she hadn’t been tied back down, but she was too guilty, tired, and miserable to do much more than move to the bed and silently cry with her face smushed into the pillow.

The food smelled good, but she didn’t eat it. Her stomach growled but the idea of stomaching food made her nauseous.

“What’s her power?”

“She can explode a persons heart from inside their chest.”

“What?!”

“See why she doesn’t use it? It requires a lot of control—it’s partly why she’s such a perfectionist—and when she feels too much emotion, is too overwhelmed…you get the point.” Hero sat down on the bed by Civilian.

Civilian looked at Hero with wide eyes. Sure, she was terrified of Villain and her hidden claws, but this…she felt bad about having snapped at Villain, even if her kidnapper had it coming. “Is she…is she okay now?”

“She’s calming down. Look, I’m going to be dead serious with you—no teasing at all.” Hero looked at Civilian sternly, her eyes cold and flat. “This situation is unfair. I’ve had my fun teasing you because I think it’s funny, but Villain has done everything she can to make this as comfortable as possible for you. If anybody deserves to be snapped at, it’s me. Not her. Not that she’s innocent either, and you can hate her and me all you’d like, but I’m not going to let you hurt her. Are we clear? If you have anything you’d like to say, you take it up with me.”

So many words rushed up her throat, but fizzled out before she summoned enough courage to utter them aloud.

Ashamed, she looked down at the floor.

“I was overwhelmed. I didn’t mean to say those things…it’s just…I know I’m going to die—“

“Civilian, I’m not letting you die. I tease you, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why?”

Nothing about this made sense. Nothing. Everyday, Civilian was battered around, little more than a piece of driftwood in a storm, and Hero took great pleasure in clapping in like lightning, always ready to make the experience as fearful as possible…and now…now it didn’t make sense that Hero was suddenly flipping personalities.

Civilian couldn’t wrap her brain around it, and then she realized…maybe Villain was right. She wasn’t listening.

She’d been bracing for Villain’s claws to come out, for her to reveal that she’d masterminded this whole chain of events to trap Civilian under her power, but the more she considered it—other than the initial kidnapping and occasional light teasing, what had Villain done to even hint at harboring any evil intents?

It was like prodding at the tender flesh of a bruise when she thought about Villain. It hurt, but there was a strange sensation that made her keep poking and prodding at it when she knew she shouldn’t.

“You don’t even know how hard Villain has fought for you. She’s committed to you.”

“…you’re jealous?”

Hero spoke softly, in a way Civilian had never imagined her cruel tormentor could speak. “I don’t mind our relationship as it is now…I like the flexibility…but I would like to stay with her. If I could, I’d marry her, but I know she’s scared of commitment…so I haven’t asked.”

“I…but she’s kept you around. Hasn’t she argued with her mom for you?”

“Yes, but that was when we were feeding off of each others information…and hooking up a little…but it was before we became more than leeches to each other. She’s tried so hard to keep you close, even though you don’t have much to offer besides your entertaining dramatics. I love her, but if I suddenly didn’t have anything to offer her, would she want to keep me around too? Like she does for you?”

“I think she would.”

“If her bitchy mother had a say, I don’t think so.”

Then, before Civilian could open her mouth to speak, there was a loud crashing sound.

Speak of the devil—

[heartshapedbubble]

Hello hello, I'm here for the match-ups!

(for male hunter please!)

I'm 163 cm, have black hair, dark brown eyes, and I'm someone that you can call a gremlin, haha. Although people think I'm not so intimidating with my stature and my strength, I can put up a fight and would not hesitate to struggle or even kick someone's shins if need be. I do end up sometimes being a teensy bit snarky on people I dislike, which some people end up teasing me as being a rabid dog (but it's fine haha).

Aside from that, I actually enjoy drawing and writing— a lot! I'm a huge fan of doing digital pieces and drawing hairstyles, so I usually draw some to see how some of them look. I sometimes do have to look up how anatomy works though, because I don't really... Like posing all that much.

Ahem, other than that, for my personality— I'm really nice to a lot of people, even if some probably saw me at first as a recluse. I enjoy having to be there to help others when they feel down or need someone to vent or to listen to, making me the go-to therapist friend in the friend group. Other than that, I'm knowledgeable when it comes to dealing with conflict and especially with other weird things (mostly with DID/OSDD because of experience and research, anxiety and panic attacks and how to deal with it... That sort of thing) that actually helps me out a lot.

There are some drawbacks to it though, with one being that I'm a lot more stubborn and not as smart as people think. I'm not the type to go down without a fight (as evidence of my first paragraph haha), so I usually push through with my stubbornness unless I'm given a good reason not to. It has landed me in some bad situations, but I've learned my lesson ^^;

I am also honest to a fault and have a bad case of malicious compliance, though in certain issues where I can't resolve conflict, I use what I know and become a... Devil's advocate of sorts. I don't like telling others about it, though, but it's fun seeing people find out about it 🤭

I'm not sure if there's anything else I can say about myself, but I hope this suffices, haha. Anyway, I love your blog, and I hope that this entry didn't break any rules in match ups ^^ happy Valentine's day, admin!

HAPPY LATE (for me, at least) VALENTINES!! 💞💞 and tysm it means a lot <3334

i match you with...

antonio paganini! 🎻

you're short AND feisty? oh he doesn't even know what he's up against

finds it so funny when you try to kick his kneecaps with your full might nd he just scoops you up with his hair like it's nothing

in general he doesn't take your fight-iness(?) and snarkiness(??) seriously most of the time and it's hilarious to him compared how different you two are - short and fighty, tall and calm

if he's feeling extra evil he's going to wrap his hair around your ankle and hold you upside down in the air (not for too long tho he's not THAT mean) for the giggles

DRAWING HAIRSTYLES⁉️⁉️ you've got yourself the perfect muse

like imagine telling him you need to braid bits of his hair for your next piece and he just gently lays his head onto your lap and his locks of hair softly wrap around you ... heaven

anyways would pose for all of your anatomy studies, he even jokingly asks if he needs to take off his shirt (I MEANNNNNN)

generally speaking he makes up for his (sometimes) lack of physical affection by using his hair - wrapping a strand of it around your arm, waist or even fingers

he's too peaceful to even argue with you, each attempted argument will probably end with "whatever you say, amore. i know you have it figured out anyway. you're smarter than you think, lo sai che? "

sometimes he will argue with you for fun tho yk🧐 he enjoys seeing you pull conclusions and arguments out of thin air

since you often have to be a therapist of some sorts he's going to make sure that it doesn't affect you and that you can blow off some steam - feel free to vent to him too, he's a good listener and always ready to provide you with both emotional support and problem-solving ideas

doesn't like giving you life lessons and educating you whenever you mess up, he's not your dad after all and he fucked up a lot of things in his life too :/ just wants you to go with the flow and take every chance you get, if you ever need any kind of support he's gonna be there for you no matter what

[risustravelogue]

Wriothesley is nothing, if not persistent.

Like a shark who smells a drop of blood in the water, he instantly locks onto any clue that could tell him where you are.

Even miles away in the land of Fontaine, the Duke of Meriopede has friends in unexpected places. There is nowhere you could hide. In the darkness or in the light, he can see it all.

When he's narrowed you down to the islands of Inazuma, he takes his time exploring.

His first stop? Jinren island.

Despite the Inazuma heat, Wriothesley is cold without you by his side. The icy look in his eyes is mirrored by the Cryo vision hanging on his clothes.

His patience wears thin as he's approached by vagrant Samurai. Wriothesley clenchs his fingers, triggering his gloves. His calm voice is at odds with the burning anger and frustration he feels in his chest. His eyes narrow down on the vagrant taunting him.

In an instant, Wriothesley seems to disappear, only to reappear a moment later, holding the vagrant by bunching the Yukata on his neck above the sand. The cryo vision in his gloves work overtime to keep the explosion of emotions he's feeling under control, but the ice begins to form a thin layer on his gloves.

"Tell me where she is."

Wriothesley, who's not afraid to make a deal with the devil, if it means he can protect what means the most to him.

(Haven't written like that in a while. Thanks for the inspiration there, Risu-mun. Anyway, I figure you'll be busy, so have this little drabble. I hope you enjoy it! Or not, because it's EBG season. Lol ;))

@i23kazu - here's my second submission. 340 words.

glad you like the inspiration, nonnie! and yes, I do enjoy this a lot. I await your next visit!!

also, I'm gonna call you ➖ (read: strikethrough) anon because I'm just so very creative with names- /silly

01. missing home

—here.

He’s a—. He won’t—danger—plans.

—Sleep tight.

A̷̞͎͗n̷̛̮͚̞͊̃d̶̤̈́͝ ̶̺̘̭͋̑̾I̷̜̟̯͗͆ ̶̳͕͂h̸̘̻͈͌̑́ỏ̴̡̗̪̑̕p̵̗̯̗͂e̶͚̰̅͐̕ ̵̡̨͚͇͚̈́̚y̸͇̳͙̏̊͗͝ͅŏ̸̞̓̊͐̒̋ủ̵͚̩̰̠̻̇̿͘͜'̵͖̎̈̃͆͒̆̿l̴̻̠̙̗͆̄̑l̴̟̖͙͙̗͂̽̈́ ̷̟̖̲̩̑r̶̨̖̘̂̆̕é̸̝͖͍̾͊m̴͈̱̈́̅e̸͕̕̕m̶̘͔͚̔͊b̸̜̳̬̰̮͋e̸̩̗͙̝̾̎̂͜͝r̵̜̍̚̚̚ş̷̨̭̭̯͉͙̱̱͔̥̍̂̈́̓̍̆o̶͈͙̜̦̜̳͊͠o̶̧̟̜͆̅̔̊ñ̶͍̰̳̙̉.̸̧̣̣̲̰̠̺̝̍͗̋̉̂͂͂̓̊̚

…̴͉̣͓̙̼͛ ̷̡̠̱̺̟̤̘̞͕̓̽̕-̵̡̫͇̥̥̱̅̉̒̂̎̎̒̽-̸̧̱̞͎̤͐̔̈́͋͒͠-̷̨͍̗́́͐͆͛̑́ ̸̢̹̻̺͈̬̲̔̈́̏̚-̶͖̰̗̺̳̥̠̂̔̀͑̕-̸̝̱͍̻͇̥͎̒̀͐̓̇̈́̕͠-̵̙̺̤̈́̓ ̴̢͕̩̗̪͎͙̮̪̒͆͂̿́-̵͕̤̗̭͊̃̅̀̃.̷̼̀̎̆̽̓͂͝͝

“Yo, imouto-ch—”

“Itto. Stop that.”

“Ei! So sassy,” Itto laughed. “Breakfast is ready. Let’s go eat! Granny Oni and Shinobu are already waiting for us.”

“Granny Oni? Huh… Is she an oni like you?”

He shook his head and grinned.

“Nah, she’s a regular human granny. She got that nickname when she adopted me,” he said. A tinge of sadness came into his crimson eyes.

“She must’ve endured lots and lots of hardships to raise me, and I’m forever grateful for that,” he mused.

The red-horned oni shook his head, as if shooing away the melancholy from his voice.

“Come on. Let’s go eat.”

She followed Itto to the dining area, where a young woman wearing a mask was preparing the utensils.

“Hello,” the young woman greeted, offering Kurisu her hand. “I’m Kuki Shinobu. You may not remember me, but I remember you.” Her eyes creased as she smiled. “Boss and I found you lying unconscious in the bushes nearby.”

Kurisu shook Shinobu’s hand as firmly as she could. “Thank you, Shinobu-san.”

Shinobu’s eyes widened. “Oh? You speak Inazuman? Are you from one of the other islands?”

Kurisu shook her head and blushed. “No, I’m actually from Sumeru. But I love reading light novels, so I know just a little of your language.”

“Ah,” Shinobu nodded. “They are indeed ambassadors of our culture.”

She took off her mask and put it in her waist bag, then gestured for Kurisu to sit down.

“Please, sit. And you can call me Kuki, miss…?”

“Call me Kurisu.”

The corner of Shinobu’s lips tweaked in amusement. “Spoken like a true fan of light novels,” she said.

After introducing herself to Granny Oni, Kurisu sat in one of the dining chairs. She observed the trio fondly as they chatted the morning away.

Itto saying nonsensical things.

Kuki sighing in exasperation at his ideas.

Granny Oni smiling, occasionally reprimanding her adopted son.

…

I miss Sumeru… I hope I can go home soon.

[colloquialbitchisms]

VILLAIN VIBES ( PART 1 )

prompts from songs on my muse's villain playlist. feel free to change pronouns/tenses/etc as needed, or even combine any of them.

THE OTHER SIDE — MARGØ

“i think it's kind of funny that i make you run & hide.” “why am i a villain if i speak what's on my mind?” “now you're on your knees, say a prayer for me.” “please explain to me how an enemy could ever look this good.” “give me your secrets.” “they say i'm the devil. so i painted my heart black.” “i'm never turning back.” “yeah, the world is cruel, but i promise you i'll never lie again.” “you know you can trust me, right?”.....“sike.” “i'll see you on the other side.” “maybe someday we could be friends.” “i wouldn't trust me.”

VILLAIN — JESSIE PAEGE

“protagonist, antagonist. two sides; both wear a mask.” “so heroic, villainous.” “i'm blessed. i'm cursed. i'm both.” “am i the superhero, or am i the villain?” “how do i save myself from this kryptonite within?” “it's dark here, shield on my back.” “i'm battle ready when the demons come.” “these tears will be my warpaint.” “fighting with my shadow.” “the battle is inside my head.” “he won't surrender when his world is crumbling down.” “i won't surrender while i still have my human heart.”

I DID SOMETHING BAD — TAYLOR SWIFT

“i play ‘em like a violin & i make it look oh so easy.” “this is how the world works.” “i don't regret it one bit ‘cause he had it coming.” “they say i did something bad, then why's it feel so good?” “i'd do it over & over again if i could.” “i let them think they saved me.” “you gotta leave before you get left.” “they're burning all the witches even if you aren't one.” “they got their pitchforks & proof, their receipts & reasons” “it just felt so good.”

DEVIL'S WORST NIGHTMARE — FJØRA

“i felt heaven, shaking hands with angels.” “i've met monsters; drank from the well of poison water.” “i'm coming for your sons & daughters.” “just ‘cause i look like an angel, don't mean i won't get down in the dirt.” “just ‘cause i look like a good girl, don't mean i won't do the things that hurt.” “i'm the devil's worst nightmare.” “i've tasted fire.” “i've felt the burn of bittersweet.” “i don't mind all the chaos, it keeps me alive.” “something wicked this way comes.”

THE DEVIL IS A GENTLEMAN — MERCI RAINES

“he don't always come at midnight, burning red & talking sin.” “he knows how to play it just right if you're gonna let him in.” “he's always got the words to say just enough so you don't notice.” “you ain't nothing but his prey.” “sometimes the worst of them have the best disguises.” “he'll go as far as it takes to stay in hiding.” “don't you know ‘bout the devil?” “he's a gentleman.” “think you know just where to find him.” “high atop his fiery throne.” “but it's the places you ain't lookin’ that he likes to make his home.”

DEVIL INSIDE — CRMNL

“set fire to the altar, middle finger to the sun.” “no one to save you when i'm done.” “in the dark i stay.” “there's no good in the place i'm going.” “pray for light.” “we all got a little devil inside.” “tearing you apart in the middle of the night.” “they could bury us alive with the things we hide.” “i stared down the hell fire.” “it's been keeping me awake.” “maybe i was born a sinner.” “i might never be a saint.” “it's ice cold in the shadows.” “one foot in the grave.”

GOOD FOR HER — MOTHICA & EMLYN

“they say she lost it.” “found your switchblade in her pocket.” “everybody should be scared when they're calling it hysteria.” “think you're getting too emotional.” ”you're only gonna make it worse.” “if you stand in her way, she's not gonna behave.” “i'm ready for how she makes it hurt.” “it's what you deserve.” “she'll watch you stand in the corner and cower.” “she puts her first now, good for her.”

KILLER — VALERIE BROUSSARD

“walking alone, you know it's okay.” “‘cause my tongue is sharper than a switchblade.” “you've been tryna elevate my heart rate, but you can't scare me no more.” “they told me you're a killer.” “i saw your collection of hearts and i shoulda known better.” “i've got no doubt that the only way out of this thriller is if i am a killer too.”

VENDETTA — UNSECRET & KRIGARÈ

“fool me once and it's shame on me.” “but, you know, you better tread carefully.” “fool me twice, i'm your enemy.” “if you push, i push back.” “try to hide, but i'll hunt you down like a maniac.” “you'll go down.” “so, if you hide, i'm gonna hunt you down.” “run. you better run.” “kindness never looked good on me.” “never been one to sit quietly.”

BIG BAD WOLF — ROSES & REVOLUTIONS

“living like kings comes with a price, don't it?” “funny how it all works out in the end.” “you're playing with fire.” “when the big bad wolf comes running around, you better get yourself right out of town.” “everybody's got a big debt to pay.” “some lost souls never get found.” “stuck in the head, falling deeper down.” “you dance with the devil & you lose your head.” “gonna shoot you dow.” “wasted youth lies in the ground.” “pack your things & run away.”

[foxlady3]

WIP Wednesday

I was going to take a little break from this story, give my mind something different to work on, take a breather, etc.

But instead, my muse said, "Hey, here's a cool scene!"

And so here's a snippet from the next chapter of The Scribe's Tale:

Crowley's hand landed on Aziraphale's shoulder, stopping him short. “Aziraphale, wait. Do not get involved.”

Aziraphale gasped. “I can't simply do nothing.”

“The friar has already painted Newt as her creature. He'll be subject to the same questioning,” Crowley said through gritted teeth. “If you interfere, you'll be accused as well, tarred with the same brush.”

It didn't help that Crowley was right. Aziraphale shook his head, panic swelling. This couldn't be happening.

Crowley squeezed his shoulder. “Look, your best bet is to appeal to the abbot. I'll go to the monastery and...”

“No!” Aziraphale shook his head again vigorously. “The abbot might get Newt out of this mess, as a matter of his authority and pride, if nothing else, but he won't care what happens to Anathema.”

The quarrelling had taken on a sharper note, as Anathema's uncle came trotting across the yard, having just arrived from picking up a load of charcoal. His son, Anathema's cousin, put down the handles of the cart he'd been helping push and followed more warily, eyeing the muttering drovers.

Friar Rufus was almost unbearably smug as he informed the tavernkeeper of his niece's wickedness.

Had someone gone off to look for the sheriff yet? Aziraphale couldn't tell.

“An entire family of evildoers, I shouldn't be surprised to find out,” Friar Rufus said, and as he straightened to his full height, he seemed to grow in stature as he drew the cloak of churchly authority around him. “I well remember, man, how you threatened me last year. And your good wife, I've heard the talk. Visions and portents. Straight from the devil's mouth.”

The tavernkeeper began to look frightened, a flicker of dread in his eyes. The drovers muttered among themselves, glancing about warily as if they wondered if they'd fallen into some kind of witch's den. A few of them crossed themselves.

"A witch, I say," Friar Rufus said, pointing at Anathema again. "She doesn't even deny it."

"Would that actually help?" Anathema said drily, arching an eyebrow. Newt swayed on his feet and closed his eyes.

Anathema's aunt Agnes stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a cloth, watching with a mild manner.

Aziraphale didn't know how she could be so calm. And why was she nodding at him?

She nodded again, looking a trifle exasperated with him this time, nodding her chin at Crowley.

Aziraphale stared, stood frozen still for half a moment, as a flicker of hope started up within him, then he clutched at Crowley's arm. “You can help them.”

“What?”

“You can! I know you can. You don't understand how wicked the friar is, how corrupt. He was bothering Anathema so dreadfully last summer, until her uncle threatened him, and now you see how Friar Rufus is taking his revenge. He's accusing the entire family. Please, Crowley, you can help them, it's just like in Nottingham.”

“Aziraphale, this isn't some poxy little shire lawman whose nose I can snub! That friar's got the whole of the bloody church behind him. What do you expect me to do, scoop up Newt and Anathema and gallop off with them? The baron'll force me to turn them in before the day's out.”

Aziraphale knew he was asking too much, but he couldn't bear the thought of his dear friends getting dragged off in chains, taken away to be interrogated. Tortured.

He turned pleading eyes on his knight. “Please,” he whispered. “For me. There must be something you can do."