#Reader is a distant relative of Angel dust's

[harveywritings92]

Niffty, holding R/n's nephew/niece: Baby vibes…hold gentle…like hamburger.

R/n, Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer: AWWww!~

Niffty, holds baby over her head: Punt like football!

R/n, Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer: NO!

[Angel quickly snatches the baby and replace them with a watermelon.]

Angel: Punt that!

Niffty, runs out of the room: Yay!

[diejager]

New Beginings

Pairing: dark!Krueger & König x doll!reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, possessive behaviour, smut, rough sex, manhandling, overstimulation, mean!Krueger, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.3k

Your new body was… odd. Once, you didn’t need substinence, you could live without eating, or drinking, or breathing, but you now needed food, water, sleep and air to continue on. You didn’t understand how humans could live with such restraint, a body so easily broken and weak when all you did was sit and collect dust until you were cleaned by your caretaker. It was difficult to live this way, it was such a stark difference to your usual life. You were a fragile thing, spending most of your days limp and tiredly laying on your nest of blanket and softness in the golden cage Kruegerbought you.

Krueger was a distant relative of your father, he might’ve shared your father’s blood and pride, but he was nothing, if not vastly different from him. Sebastian Krueger was a crude and brash man, voice low and arrogant while he manhandled you with cruel and careless hands, pushing and pulling you around his broad figure. Unlike your thin and artistic father, Krueger was a firm and strong man, skin scarred from past battles, some won and some lost, but it added to his terrifying image as much as his veil did. 

After your rebirth, he moved you to an elegant, golden cage where you would live the rest of your life, completely at his mercy. He knew you would depend on him for nourishment, for relief and for company, locked away in the shadow of his bedroom to stare and admire like someone would do to a dove —you were his dove, an angel who’s wings he clipped to keep. He kept to a strict routine, he woke you up with a rough shake, his calloused fingers sinking into your softer skin to pull you out, whether or not you were used to using and feeling your legs didn’t matter, whatever he said goes. 

He fed you three times a day with snacks spread across the day, stuffing you round with food despite your complaints about not being hungry anymore, unused to having an body that necessitated food to work. Then he’d sit you on his lap as he worked, his hand sliding down your waist to grip your hip, sometimes staying put while he signed papers, and others straying to your thighs, kneading your oversensitive fat until you squirm and whine. 

He mostly kept his hands to himself when he was busy working, his mind cued sharply into finishing his work for the day to lounge and relax, but he liked - insisted on - touching you whenever he could, rucking up the edge of your dress and cupping the uncomfortable heat of your mound, curling his fingers through your slit and thumb your throbbing clit. He seemed to enjoy your high mewls and writhing, back arched forward and grinding your ass into a hard and painful bulge in his pants. 

Often times, you’d end up splayed over his desk, your clothes ripped in half from the top and left hanging under you while he rammed into you, his low grunts and cruel degrading left you in a wet and cock dumb mess of whining and crying. The red and swollen head of his cock battering your cervix, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you until he had his fill, the tip spurting hot and heavy ropes of thick cum. When he was done, he sat you on his half-hard cock, the girth still wide enough to plug you without reaching for one, your tear-strained eyes blinking tiredly and head resting against his neck.

That was usually what he did: breakfast, work, fucking you, dinner, fucking you, relaxing, supper, relaxing and fucking you to sleep, rarely diverting from it if he could. Krueger was a creature of routines, familiarity and strict form, thriving off his military training to teach you how to walk and talk, building a rigid structure to teach you. He could be cruel with his words, rough with his hands and perverted with his eyes, but he was… loving in a sense, despite how mean he was, he cared for you and provided for you in your uselessness. 

But unlike Krueger, who was heartlessly taunting to you, his roommate - König - was gentle and careful with you, playing with you as if you were still the porcelain doll you used to be. König was the giant of the two, a tall and broad man who stood twice as tall and twice as big as you, a seemingly monster in his rights. His wide palms petting your mop of hair, thick fingers carding through the bothersome knots and dressing you up for the day. He was a second factor of your routine, if you weren’t with Krueger, you were with him. 

He wasn’t cruel like Krueger, dauntingly stern, yes, but he never degraded you and laughed when you teared up. He was surprisingly tender with you, handling you with a softness that reminded you of your late father, mumbling quietly to you and showering you in affection. König praised you and loved you in his own way, a sickening and possessive obsession, mumbling promises that he would protect you from all the world’s cruelty, but what about his roommate’s ruthlessness? He told you not to worry your pretty, little head about him, Krueger couldn’t be fixed, it was the effect of whatever he lived through in battle.

König might’ve been your favourite between the two for how he isn’t purposefully mean, he didn’t degrade you, he didn’t growl and hiss at you, and he didn’t break his word. But he was still your captor, a man with as much - if not more - needs and wants as Krueger, with how often he pawed at your shorts, pushing them down your thighs to rut his cock between the sweep of your ass, carving a space between your clefs. If he was feeling particularly merciful, he’d stretch you enough, a thick and long finger filling your tight cunt before another pushed in, drowning your pained mewls and pants with his scarred lips. He always made you come once or twice, stuffing three fingers in an effort to fit his monstrous size, his girth and length too much for you. Much to your dismay, he made it fit, it was hot and steely, ploughing through you like you were made to take it, your slick and his abundance of pre making his thrusts smooth and easy.

If he was feeling sadistic, he would spend hours preparing you, holding you against his chest by a firm grip on your throat, your ankles hooked under him as he took his time fingering you. He praised you, his deeper growl wonderfully soft while he pampered you with his unending insistence of wetting his sheets with your musk, for the smell of your cum and sweat to stick to his room. He held you down to thrust his fingers, the palm of his hand rubbing your swollen nub, landing sharp slaps on your wet thighs until you’re sobbing out in overstimulation, writhing and fighting him with every claw and hit. 

Only when you stared blankly ahead, drool rolling down your chin and limbs spasming, does he finally fuck you, bottoming out in a quick snap of his hips and pounding you into his bed. He moved you to his whims, sometimes face down and ass up, other times folded in, your legs swung over his shoulders and back curved almost uncomfortably. You’re lucky you were made flexible, seemingly outworldly with how easily König and Krueger bent you over every surface of the house and folded you in half to watch their cocks break you in and your cunt gape, oozing their thick and bitter cum.

You hoped you’d get used to the workings of your body soon, your shaking limbs and painful cramps hindering you in your attempts to flee, to spread your wings and escape your golden cage.

“We just wants what’s best for you, Rehkitz.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @rae-pottah @cassiecasluciluce

[babbushka]

Biting Dust - Ch. 1

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again...

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader 

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

5.5k ; Warnings: Mentions of murder, hanging, arson. 

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

You wonder, sometimes. Wonder how it all turned out like this, how this was the life you now led. You wonder if you could go back and do anything over, if you’d do anything different. Sometimes you don’t do so much wondering, there ain’t the time when you’re on the run with sheriffs at your back; but times like this, with nothing but the uncharted desert sprawling out in front of you, all you could do was wonder.

Something wisps up into your eyes and you cringe as you scrub it out -- sand, stinging and coarse. Nothing but sand, as far as the eye could see. You really fucking hate sand, you think, as the rising sun carries on up into the sky, bringing with it a gentle enough breeze that makes your horse, Agnes, toss her mane in delight. She whinnies softly, and you pet the back of her neck as she does, trudging through the sand after a long night of riding, a long night straight through the desert.

“Almost there,” You reassure her, “Shouldn’t be too much farther now.”

You’d robbed a bank the day before, and damn it all that had proven to be a poor enough decision. Ain’t no money in the bank, nothing at all, nothing but a whole group of cowardly men who were quick to whistle for the dogs that went bitin’ at your ankles.

They paid for that offense against you, had paid with their lives.

If only they had had any money for you to take with you, as you sped off into the night, not daring to stop until you had put enough distance between you and the men with steel.

Now, you don’t even have robbing on your mind. No, you think as Agnes chuffs and complains about the tiredness in her hooves, you’d settle for something as simple as a cool and dry bed, a hot bath, maybe enough time to clean your clothes and have a bite to eat before you’re off again.

A bed, bath, and crust of bread which you were looking forward to in the next town over. Robbing that bank hadn’t been entirely useless after-all, you use the morning sunlight to figure out this chicken-scratch cartography off the map you’d quickly grabbed before dashing out of the blazing bank, flames engulfing everyone and everything inside it as you make your escape.

“If we did this right, we should be there before the sun comes up over the canyons.” You tell her.

She only chuffs again, and you know that she too will be looking forward to a soak in a lake somewhere to wash the blood off her hide.

If you weren’t so damn tired, you might appreciate the view. The marbling of the earth around you as the sun begins to shine down on the many layers, millions of years in the making, should be breathtaking. The all-encompassing orange and reds, the slight hints of purple, the occasional dappling of yellow speak to a world ancient, as old as time.

It really puts into perspective, this whole thing, your whole life. See, dammit there you go thinkin’ again, wondering again. You clench your jaw and urge Agnes forward a little further, knowing she really can’t take much more before needing a rest. You know, but still you ask her gently to keep on moving, because the sooner you get into town, the sooner the both of you can rest.

“I think…I think that’s it, just up ahead.” You say softly to the old gal, patting her shoulder encouragingly. “You did it, thank you, thank you Aggie.”

Your horse catches wind of the scent of something, something that excites her, and suddenly she’s bolting in the direction of the town, of the piece of civilization that you can just barely see. There’s civilization of some sort, that’s for sure, you can see the little specs of buildings out in the distance. There’s many of them, which is good, really good. It doesn’t look as big as a trading post, but that’s okay – there’s less of a chance that anyone would know who you are.

You hold on tight as Agnes gallops through the canyons, falcons flying overhead, their shadow blurring past on the sandy ground as the wind whips through your hair. You feel elated, feel like you could fly, just like those falcons, flying and soaring straight to salvation in the form of a sheltered room and a drink of water.

Your canteen isn’t empty, but anything left you have will go to Agnes. She can’t tell you when she’s so thirsty she’s half to death, so you don’t ever let her get close. Your last sip of water was two days ago, and you know you can hold out a little longer, will drink the bathwater if you have to, but Agnes does more hard work and so she gets the water.

None of that matters, because Agnes is sprinting, and you’re reminded of why she’s called the fastest Beast in the West. Huge plumes of sand kickback as her hooves dig into the earth, bringing you closer closer closer to the town, at a speed which will no doubt raise suspicion, will no doubt cause unwanted attention.

“Not so fast there girl!” You calm her down, “I know, I’m excited too, but not so fast! They’ll start shootin’ at us!”

That seems to make enough sense to her, because her breakneck pace reduces down to a trot pretty quickly. Your hair is tangled and in your mouth and eyes, your hat nearly flung straight off your head, but all is well. Nothing had fallen out of the knapsacks on the saddle, and the entrance of the town is only a few more hundred feet away.

“Woahh, stop for a minute.” You command her, tugging on the reigns ever so slightly. She looks over her shoulder at you, and you know you’ve spent too much time alone when you can begin to read the annoyed look in her eye. “Just a minute, I need to change.”

Hopping down from Agnes, you take her by the reigns and guide her behind a large wide stone which juts out into the air some couple dozen feet. You’re just past the edge of the canyons now, but you’re thankful for these little hidey spots, because they’re the perfect cover for swapping out clothing.

Clothing was crucial a lot of the time, for you to go through the world unnoticed. It wasn’t all that common for outlaws to have more than one set of something, and you use that to your advantage, stripping down completely naked right there in the middle of the desert. Stuffing the blood-stained and filthy riding clothes into one of the knapsacks, you exchange that for a beautifully clean and well maintained dress and undergarments. It wasn’t fancy like some high society woman might have, but this particular shade of blue cotton looked nice on your skin tone.

It reminds you of your old life, how you would wear something like this damn near every day, not just on special occasions where a disguise was necessary. The cotton was blue and the cut was perfectly flattering. The high neck concealed some unsavory scars, and the puffed sleeves accentuated your frame. There was some frilly detailing around the chest which you thought was a nice touch, but most of all, it buttoned down the front instead of down the back, which was nothing short of a lifesaver, when you had to dress all by yourself.

Over a clean pair of undergarments and petticoat this dress goes, and back up onto Agnes you climb, your transformation complete. You now look nothing like a filthy sharp-shootin’ bank lootin’ outlaw, instead you look like…well, something far more innocent than that.

If you can just keep your head down and stay out of the way for the rest of the day, not bother anyone and leave first thing a morning from now, you’ll be on to bigger and better adventures. Nevermind that your entire life feels like running away from something instead of towards something, nevermind.

“Show time Aggie.” You tell her, nudging her hindquarters with your boots once more.

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

The layout of the town is as basic as they come, which you appreciate. Two long strips of main buildings on either side of a dirt road, beautiful wooden structures some two stories high.  Some of them have got signs hanging from the porch denotin’ that that’s the general store, that there’s the post office. Some others have their names painted on the window, letting you know that there’s the bathhouse and over yonder there’s the armory.

No bank, you notice.

What you do notice, is the large saloon right at the end of the road, a culdesac of sorts, and you are sure that you hear the heavens open up and shine down on you, angels singing, because there’s a small sign that proudly announces vacancies. The building is huge, three stories tall and framed with the most beautiful wooden support beams with decorative carving. There’s music coming from inside, distant strumming of guitars and harmonicas that seem cheerful and jovial, and you’re glad that this town isn’t immediately hostile.

While you’re busy trying not to weep of relief that you’ll have a relatively safe spot to lay your head, a spot to let Agnes rest, the townsfolk are busy noticing you. They must not get many visitors round these parts, because everyone you pass stops in their tracks and stares.

They don’t exactly look unfriendly, just confused, as if they’d never seen a lone woman ride into town before – and maybe they haven’t. Oh well, you think with the hint of a smile as you tip your hat to a little girl with beautifully thick and long braids down her back, you can only hope to be an inspiration.

There’s men bargaining about something who stop and turn to you, women who drop baskets of bread as you pass. The children which laugh and play round polished bronze statues in the courtyard all halt and whisper amongst themselves, wondering who you are, what you could want, why you’ve come.

You just smile at them, show them all you mean no harm, knowing that this is their home, and you’re only passing through. This seems to appease the adults, but the children with their wide-eyed curiosity aren’t so satisfied. You try not to chuckle as parents have to steer their sons and daughters away from the road to keep them from rushing straight up to you and asking a million questions.

“You rest here, eat up.” You whisper to Agnes when you finally approach the end of the road, hopping off her back as elegantly as possible, leading her to a covered set of posts and a trough of water and feed, tying up her rope so she can’t go wanderin’ anywhere – not that she would.

With a deep breath of courage, knowing that your gun was hidden safely inside a makeshift pocket in the dress, should you need it, you push through the double swinging doors of the saloon.

All at once, the music, the chatter, the jovial laughter and clinking of glasses grinds to a screeching halt, as every patron of the bar stops and turns towards you. You can feel the weight of their stares, but you hold your ground, keep your chin up.

“Sorry to disturb,” You clear your throat there in the doorway, “But is this where a lady might be able to rent a room for the night?”

At the question, the saloon deems you to not be a threat at all, and you can practically taste the way the tension in the air dissolves. A lady looking for a room wasn’t nearly that interesting, not compared to a winning hand of cards, or the dregs of a beer, and you’re glad for it.

“Up the stairs.” The elderly bartender smiles at you real friendly-like as he shines some glasses.

“Thank you kindly.” Your curtsey is rusty, and your entire body aches from the exceptionally long journey, but you ignore the protest of your sore joints as your botos carry you over to the staircase and you ascend up away from the bar.

The second floor lobby of the saloon looks like a proper hotel, which surprises you. There’s a woman at a front desk just beyond the stairs, and she sure seems excited to see you. She’s a portly woman with greying hair plaited nicely in braids that rest along her chest, but she’s got a sharp glimmer to her eye, a glimmer you can appreciate.

“Well hello there! You lookin’ for a room?” She calls over to you, beckons you towards the front desk.

You take your hat off and hold it between your two hands, your own hair twisted and pinned into the messiest bun you’d ever done just so it didn’t look such a wreck from the long ride. You walk over to the desk and are more than grateful when she offers you a cup of crisp cool water.

“Yes ma’am, I am, my name is Mary Elizabeth Sampson,” You lie, “I saw the sign out front and was hopin’ that them vacancies might still be around.”

You try your best to not slam back the water the second the glass is in your hand, instead you bring it up to your lips in a measured sip, savoring the way the clean smooth taste of it travels in rivulets down your throat. You would never take this for granted, water.

Never in a hundred years would you not be eternally thankful for this elixir of life. The old woman at the desk smiles at you with a slight amusement, for she must know how badly you want to chug it. Instead of saying anything about it though, she pulls out a thick book and opens it up onto the desk, flips to the first blank slot.

“You’re in luck – we’re a fair price and good for it. Beds cleaned every day, breakfast lunch and dinner brought right up to you if you’d like from the bar downstairs. We’ve even got a hot bath out back, although that’s an extra price.” She says it so casually that you nearly miss it, but there ain’t no denying the way you choke in your excitement at the luxury of this place.

“How much would one night, meals and a bath cost, altogether?” You wipe water off your chin with the back of your hand, lick it off straight from your dirty knuckles, heart thrumming in your chest.

Were you dreaming? This place sounded like damn near a dream, you can’t help but think. It’s got everything you had asked for, and seemed nice enough to boot. You know your purse is light, you’ve only got five gold dollars to your name since the bank last night proved to be a bust. You’re hoping beyond hope that she doesn’t take your last coin – but you know that you’d give it to her if you had to.

“Altogether you’re lookin’ at about a buck fifty.” She replies, relieving you immensely. She points out the prices of the amenities on a piece of paper she pulls out from behind the desk so you know she’s not just high-ballin’ you, “Fifty cents for the room, buck for food and bath. You won’t find a fairer price around.”

“Do you happen t’have change? I’ve only got solid coins, I’m afraid.” You’re quick to show that that’s acceptable, more than acceptable, as you reach into your other pocket – the one that doesn’t have the gun – for a little drawstring purse.

You pull out two dollars, try not to think about how light your purse becomes from it, and slide it across the desk. The old woman clamps her teeth around the coins to make sure they’re good, and is very pleasantly surprised when she sees that they are.

“I sure do, here’s the key to your room, it’ll just be down the hall and to the left.” She hands you the leftover fifty cents, and an old iron key from a series of hooks up on the wall. You gratefully accept both items, and return the glass to her, now empty of every last drop of water, prompting her to say, “You know, it’s funny. I’ve been runnin’ this hotel for ten years and I ain’t never had two customers in two days. Is there some sorta movement happenin’ ‘cross the West?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at that, at there being another stranger. No wonder they had all stopped and stared so dramatically, you think. The townsfolk might think there must be something going on, to have two visitors so close together. You shrug in earnest though, trying to be as non-descript as possible, not give anything away one way or the other.

“I think there’s always going to be some sorta movement, but anything specific I can’t say for sure.” Your answer is open enough that the woman catches on and chuckles, waves you off and begins to step away from the desk, off back to do who knows what.

“I won’t keep ya, it’s so early you must’ve ridden through the night. I’ll bring breakfast up shortly, you just go on and get comfortable.” She says, and you nod in thanks before --

“Oh! Oh – wait, before you go, my horse, I’ve got a horse. Is there an extra charge to groom and board her for the night? She’s out eatin’ from the trough right now, I don’t want to go skippin’ out on any bills.” You rush back to the desk, and with all your commotion, the old woman can’t help but laugh.

“No Miss Sampson, we’ll take care of her for free. You go on and rest now.” She’s firm and kind, and you’re grateful for it.

In fact, you’re grateful enough that when she’s out of sight beyond the desk, you reach over and open the drawer where she took your payment, and you drop the change she had given you back into the little slot she’d taken it from, a silent thanks for the kindness, and lack of questions.

As you turn away for the final time to head towards your room, you stop cold in your tracks.

For up on the wall is a series of wanted posters, all printed and hung up recently, thick black ink letters boasting grand rewards.

Among them, your heart thuds a little bit quicker in your chest, is your name.

                                      WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

                                      (Y/N) ‘ANGEL EYES’ (L/N)

                       MURDERESS – ARSONIST – BANK ROBBERY

                                           REWARD - $25,000

 The image of your face is crudely drawn, so much so that you barely recognize yourself. They didn’t get a single one of your features right – but who could blame them. You never left any witnesses, never left anyone alive. Still, it’s enough that your name is up there, your real name.

Slightly above your wanted poster, is a poster you’ve seen damn near everywhere. Part of you is proud, proud that you’re movin’ on up the hierarchy of danger, as it were. You recall the days where Sheriffs were advertising only a couple hundred bucks for your head. Now you were a whole quarter of a hundred grand, which surely had to mean something, some sort of stepping on up in the criminal world.

The poster above yours though, now that man was a legend.

                   PROCLOMATION OF THE GOVERNOR OF KANSAS

     REWARD FOR THE CAPTURE OF EXPRESS AND TRAIN ROBBERS

                     GANG HEADED BY NOTORIOUS MURDERER

                                                  KYLO REN

                                                   $100,000

 Kylo Ren, now that was a name. And what a name for such an outlaw! He was well known all across the desert, in every canyon and mountain, every cliffside and town and trading post had his face slapped up on the walls.

Well, not his face.

No one had ever seen his face. Unlike you, he frequently left witnesses, people to tell the story of the chaos that took place that day, people to spur on the legends of his greatness. He was a train robber, one of the meanest around. They said he was a Pony Express boy back in the day, and had dodged death at nearly every turn. Seems as though he turned a page and started dealing out blows rather than taking them, him and his notorious gang who call themselves the Knights of Ren, like somethin’ out of a medieval fairy tale.

The photo on the poster, despite not showing anything other than a black bandana and a blind eye, seems to stare straight through to your soul.

You wonder if you’ll ever get up there, get up to $100,000. It doesn’t do to dwell though, and you know that if that old woman were to come back and see you staring she might get suspicious, so you just move along.  

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

The room isn’t much more than four walls and a bed, but you don’t care – this is the first time you’ve seen a bed in weeks, possibly in months. Losing track of the days was a bad habit of yours, but everything begins to blend in together when you’re out there, out in the desert. All you have are sun ups when the heat is so stifling as it ripples in waves across the sand, and the sun downs with the venomous critters that’ll kill you dead if they manage to get a hold of you.

Slipping off your shoes, you tuck yourself under the sheets and let your eyes close. It feels good, this. Feels good to not have to worry about imminent danger. You’re here tucked up, Agnes is out enjoying fresh water and food, and though your stomach rumbles, you know that eventually breakfast is on its way.

It mustn’t be any later than ten in the morning, but you’re sure you could sleep the whole day away anyway. It’d do you good, would keep you out of the way. Hopefully the folks around would forget about you entirely, and there’d be no trouble.

The door knocks then, and you suppress a groan as you get back out from the covers, and go to open the door. On the other side is the woman, holding a wooden tray with a bowl of steaming hot porridge, johnnycakes, and a fresh brewed mug of coffee.

“Sorry to disturb, I just wanted to get this to ya while it was still hot.” She says, and you invite her in by opening up the door a little further. “The stable boys are givin’ your horse a good wash right now, she’ll be boarded up in the stable right on the side, should you want to ride her ‘round at some point in the day.”

“Thank you ever so kindly, but I think she and I’ll just catch up on some much needed sleep.” You gratefully accept the tray, put it right on the edge of the bed where it won’t be disturbed. The food smells delicious, better than anything you’d had in weeks, and you can’t wait to dig in.

The old woman regards you for a moment, and while you’re turned away from her, she says ever so softly,

“Is it a man?”

Your hands still just as you go to pick up the coffee, and you sigh.

“Pardon?” You ask, turning to face her slowly, knowing exactly what she means but needing to play dumb enough so that she doesn’t know that you know.

“What you’re runnin’ from. Is it a man?” She asks again.

You sit down on the bed, warming your palms with the mug.

Casting a glance out the window, you see the townspeople milling about in the street, all going along with their daily business. Once upon a time, that was you. It feels like an eon ago, and it might as well be, because you know that you can never return to a life like that, a life like the one you watch from your window. Never again.

She’s still standing there, and you don’t want to be rude, so you swallow your pent-up feelings and simply shrug sheepishly.  

“That obvious, ain’t it?” You put on a façade of shyness, even though it’s not really a lie, not really.

“No.” The old woman huffs out a little laugh, putting her hands on her hips and surprising you by saying, “I’ve just been in your position, and I know kindness don’t come often.”

“The visitor who came through yesterday…” You suddenly grow curious, “What were they like? Are they still here?”

She waves you off though, probably thinking you’re insinuating that a man might be following you now. And that may very well be true, very well could be the case. You burned that bank down to the ground but that doesn’t mean someone could’ve sniffed out your trail and was headed straight for you. The woman shakes her head reassuringly, and your curiosity both grows and lessens.

“Nah Miss he’s long gone. Sheriff had him dealt with when he caught him trying to steal one of the horses out of the sheriff’s own stable, if you can believe it!” She chuckled, making your eyebrows shoot up.

“When you say ‘dealt with’..?” You trail off, wondering what kind of people these were.

“Oh well hanged of course. They don’t hang horse thieves where you’re from?” She asks you as if such an idea were unheard of to her.

That’s very interesting, you think. Very interesting indeed, such a sharp punishment for a crime that didn’t even happen. Most towns would have given the poor guy a trial, but he was only here for less than a day before hanged? Maybe these folks weren’t as friendly as you had assumed.

That’ll teach you to assume, you know the old saying.

“They rarely punish the folks who deserve it, where I’m from.” You say quietly, and the old woman gets the hint.

“I won’t ask where that is, but do you mind me askin’ where you’re headed?” She moves towards the door and you figure why the hell not, tell the truth for once.

“Colorado, much like everyone else it would seem.” You say, say out loud this dream you’ve had for so many months, “Hopin’ to get lucky and strike some gold before it turns into another mess like California.”

She’s pleased with that answer for whatever reason, and she gives you a knowing smile.

“I wish you luck with that, Miss Sampson, I really do.” She nods in the direction of the tray, where the porridge and sticky sweet pancakes are still nice and piping hot. “Enjoy your breakfast, take a bath. I’ll leave lunch outside your door and knock in case you’re asleep.”

With that, she’s gone, and you raise your armpit to see just how badly you smell to encourage – oh shit, you think, your whole face scrunching up after taking a whiff. Awful, is the conclusion, you smell awful. So badly that you almost lose your appetite from it, something that makes you laugh because it catches you so off-guard.

That woman had more patience than you could ever imagine, waiting so long to say anything about it, the stench, and that only makes you laugh harder, for you haven’t had a moment to laugh like this in a long long time.

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

With food in your belly, and after a long soak and scrub in the boiling hot tub out back, you sleep. You sleep the whole day away, sleep and let your dreams wander to simpler times, kinder times.

Your mind conjures up images of beautiful farmlands, cattle and gently baaing sheep. Numbers and letters dance behind your eyelids, midnight swims in the lake rush over your skin. It’s a good dream for once, a pleasant dream, not like the nightmares that typically plague you. Nothing like the flames which engulf your vision, or the booming laughter which turns to screams or or or --

“Speak of the goddamned devil --!” you gasp awake, your dreams ruined in an instant.

Bolting straight up, you’re disoriented for a moment, reaching for the gun in your pocket before sighing and recognizing this as the little hotel room. There is no danger here, you try and calm yourself down, try and stop the racing of your heart, but the cold sweat that’s shocked you awake grows clammy on your skin and you have to gulp down air.

The room is buttery golden, from the light of the setting sun which streams through the glass pane window. You quickly get out of bed and rush to the window, rush to see if anyone’s come, if they’re calling to run you out of town the way they did that attempted horse thief.

“I can’t stay.” You realize out loud, sighing into your hand as you rub your forehead, willing the spotted visions to blink away. You’d slept just about seven hours, which is probably more than the whole week’s worth of sleep combined, and you’d gotten your money’s worth of food and bath – plus they’d taken care of Agnes for you.

All of this justification runs through your head as you gather up your meager belongings and step into your boots. You twist your hair out of your face and open the front door, ready to place the key on the knob and slip out the back while everyone is at supper.

At your feet is another tray, a bowl of beans and a generous cut of beef along with a tear of bread and dried fruit.

You sigh, looking longingly down at it. Well, you think, better to not let the food spoil. Scarfing down the hot beans and the meat, you wrap the fruits and bread up in a cloth napkin and store it in your pocket. It’ll be a fine addition to the collection of foods you have packed in Agnes’ saddle, and you’re sure the addition will come in handy, not knowing of another town for many miles ahead.

You picked the perfect timing it would seem, because the saloon is empty, all the patrons at home for a home cooked meal with their families, and no one is around to see you head down towards the stable.

Agnes is happy to see you, as always. Her coat is shiny and white, she looks almost pearlescent so clean as this. Guilt pangs in your chest, you wish she could be so clean all the time. When you make it to Colorado and form your new life there, you decide you’re going to get yourself some land and let her spend the rest of her days grazing in peace.

“Ready to go gal?” You smile sadly, petting through her silky smooth mane.

She only whinnies softly, and without much more ado, you lead her out of the stable, and ride off into the sunset, on your way to the next stop en route to the Rockies.

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

On the outskirts of town, as the sky blazes beautiful oranges and reds, purples around the edges of the horizon and not a single cloud to be seen, you think about the old woman, you never got her name.

You can’t go back now, can’t go back to thank her more for her hospitality, her understanding. Who knows, you think to yourself, maybe you’ll see her again one day. Maybe you won’t, but life had a funny way of working out, didn’t it?

Up ahead, you see a poor soul hanging from a great big tree, his horse standing underneath it. That must be the thief, you reckon, the one the Sheriff was not too kind to. Goosebumps shiver up your spine, and you do your best to avoid looking at him out of respect. You knew that if you were strung up, you wouldn’t want any ogling eyes, so you simply urge Agnes to go a little faster, hoping that you might simply pass him and continue on.

You wonder if that might’ve been your fate, had you stayed. Perhaps that Sheriff would’ve gotten wind of the bank from the town over, might’ve warned him about any newcomers, might’ve warned him about you. You’ll be far out into the canyons by then, should that happen, you know. You know, and you just do your best to keep your head down, trying to let this man have some semblance of dignity.  

Until that is, that poor soul doesn’t seem so poor at all, because as you grow closer, the moment he catches sight of you, you can hear the booming baritone of a voice shout across the desert,

“Hey! Over here! Hey!”

And you think in shock, that this man ain’t poor, he’s got to be the luckiest sonofabitch you’d ever seen in your life – because somehow, against all odds, he ain’t dead.

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

Tagging some pals!  @steeevienicks  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee  @autumnlovesadam  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan​ @flapjacques​ @aweirdlookingtree​ @callmemania-pls​ @theold-ultraviolence​ @og-selene​  @schopenhauerdeathsquad​ @nekonaomitard​ @feminine-machinegun​ @contesa-lui-alucard​ @danceyreagan​  @supremehaunter​ @refletction​  @paljonkaikenlaista​ @pinkmoontribe-blog​

[my-emotional-self]

A Break From Us

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst

Request: Hi Emily!  Can you write a fic where the reader and Chris have been dating in a relationship for like 2 years and then the reader’s best friend (probably Tom Hiddleston) visited and she’s been spending so much time with him and Chris starts to get jealous? They then get into a huge fight and probably use this line: “I think we need to take a break break.  A break from us.”  Full of angst pleaseeee.  Thank you

Requested By: @poerebel

Two of the best years of your life had gone by, in what seemed like, in a blink of an eye; all because of your boyfriend Chris.  The two of you met through a mutual friend, Tom Hiddleston.  Well, Tom was your best friend to be exact.  

It was on the set of The Avengers that you first met Chris, but it wasn’t until he was filming The Avengers: Infinity War that things started to get heat up.  He finally had the courage to ask you on a date and after contemplating for weeks, you finally agreed.  It wasn’t that you weren’t attracted to him, or that you didn’t like his personality.  No, it was that he was a celebrity and you know how it was to be close to them in the public.  

For years the media and public thought you and Tom were dating, and it took a toll on you; not wanting to even be in public with him anymore because of all the camera light flashes and questions.  But you eventually got over that, and it was Tom who even encouraged you to go on a date with Chris, telling you how perfect he was for you.  In the end, your best friend was right; you and Chris going two years strong together.  

“Good morning handsome,” you said, giving Chris a light smack to his boxer clad butt as he cooked pancakes on the stove.

He jumped at your ministration, barking out a laugh afterwards.  “Morning beautiful,” he responded, turning to face you as you sat up on the counter across from him.  His eyes roamed down your body, a sexy smirk appearing on his face when he saw you were wearing his button down shirt from the day before; no shorts on underneath.  

Heat creeped up your neck and to your face under his stare.  Two years later and you still couldn’t get over how he looked at you sometimes; your heart fluttering in your chest.  

“I’m just about done with breakfast,” he remarked, flipping the pancakes over.  

Your stomach growled at the delicious smell.  “Good cause I’m starving,” you replied through a yawn.  

You stayed sitting on the counter, your feet waving back and forth as you ate your pancakes and bacon; Chris standing right in front of you.  If there was anything you loved, it was when Chris had time off from work and the two of you were more domesticated at home.  

When Chris saw your plate was empty, he grabbed it from you and placed it in the sink before turning back and standing before you.  You opened your legs for him, pulling him by the waist so he stood closer to you as your lips connected.  There was a hint of bacon and orange juice on his lips as you greedily kissed him, wanting more.  

Your cell phone went off, a groan coming from Chris.  As you opened the text from Tom, you squealed when you read it.  

“What’s going on?” Chris asked with furrowed brows.  

“Tom’s coming to town! He’s going to be here for a whole month!”  You couldn’t contain the smile that lit up your face.  It had been forever since you had seen Tom in person and it was rare for him to come to Los Angeles for more than a few days, let alone a month.  

~~~

The first two weeks that Tom was in Los Angeles, you had seen him nearly every single day; the two of you joined at the hips yet again.  He first came over for dinner with you and Chris the night he got there, but after that, you and Tom spent all of your time together out of the house.

You did different things each day; going out to eat, to the beach, to see movies and to the museums. It was great to have your best friend around again; you had truly missed him.  

“Have you seen this?” Chris asked, placing his laptop onto your lap as the two of you lay in bed together; an article about you on the screen.  

Have Chris Evans and his longtime girlfriend Y/N broken up? Our sources seem to think so.  Y/N has been spotted out and around Los Angeles with Tom Hiddleston for the last two weeks.  It seems as if the two of them are now dating, leaving Chris in the dust.

Here are some pictures of Y/N and Tom eating out a restaurant as the two smile and laugh.  What do the readers think of this?

You sighed, shutting the computer and shaking your head.  “Really Chris?” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.  “You out of anyone should know better than to believe these ridiculous tabloids.”  You leaned over, placing your lips on his and you could sense him relax instantly.  

“You’re right.  I’m sorry babe.  You’ve been hanging out with him since he’s been here and I miss you, that’s all.”  Your heart felt like it shattered, giving him a frown.  

“I know Chris.  But he lives in England and he’s my best friend. I don’t get to see him very often. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.”

Using your strength, you pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his waist as your lips met his once again.  The two of you made sweet love that night.  

~~~

You gave Chris a kiss early the next morning, waking him up; his tired eyes opening with confusion when he saw you dressed already for the day.  “I gotta go babe, Tom’s waiting for me outside,” you said in a rush as you grabbed your phone off the nightstand.  

“Where are you going?” he asked through a yawn, sitting up in bed as the covers fell from his chest and onto his lap.  

“Disneyland,” you said quickly before giving him one last kiss.  “I’ll be back late tonight.  I love you.”

~~~

You were already out of the bedroom before Chris could respond; a frustrated sigh coming from his lips.  His hands balled into fists, gripping the bedsheets as you left him yet again for Tom.

Chris had been growing increasingly frustrated the more time you spent with Tom.  First, it was the tabloids saying the two of you had broken up and he had to keep explaining to his publicist that it wasn’t the case; that you and Tom were friends and he was in town.  Second, Chris wasn’t going to be home forever as he had to get started prepping for his next project which would place him in Boston for nearly three months.  

He ripped the covers off his body and stormed into the bathroom; Dodger scattering from the room from his feet pounding on the floor.  

Chris slammed the door to the bathroom shut and headed took a hot shower, needing to calm down the racing thoughts in his mind.  

~~~

Your feet were killing you by the time you made it home from Disneyland that night.  It was late so you opened the door quietly and took off your shoes.  Tip-toeing through the house, you opened the refrigerator and got yourself a bottle of water, feeling parched from the long day in the sun.  

The lights flickered on and you yelped in surprise; Chris standing there with his arms folded across his chest as he stared at you.  

“Chris,” you said breathlessly, your heart racing from the scare,” you startled me baby.”  He didn’t smile.  In fact he didn’t move a muscle except for his jaw clenching.  “What’s wrong Chris?  Are you alright?”

He scoffed at your words, rolling his eyes before walking towards you.   You took a deep breath, gulping the lump in your throat as he now stood in front of you.  

“No Y/N I’m not ok.  I had to talk to my publicist yet again today and tell her that you and I haven’t broken up.  That you and Tom are in fact not dating as more and more pictures of the two of you made their way onto the internet.”

“Chris, why are you looking at that crap?”

“Because I can’t help it when I have all my friends and family sending me texts asking what the hell is going on!” he roared, making you jump back slightly.  Never in your two years of dating has Chris ever raised his voice at you and it worried you to see this side of him.  

“Why are you getting so upset about this?  You know Tom is my best friend.  I’ve known him for over half of my life!”

“Did you fuck him?” Chris asked, his eyes glaring at you.

“WHAT?!” you nearly screamed in retort as your own eyes grew wide.  “Why the fuck would you think that?”  Now you were pissed at his accusations.  How dare he think you would cheat on him like that.  

“Well, you did before,” came his short reply.  Chris was right.  You had told him the truth, which was that you lost your virginity to Tom back when you were only 18.  You were vising him as you had distant relatives that lived nearby and you wanted to lose it to someone who you could trust; and Tom was just that person.

Your mouth dropped open at his words as your heart clenched inside.  It felt like Chris was personally ripping your heart from your chest.

“I can’t believe you right now.  Why are you acting so jealous?  He’s my FRIEND Chris!  Am I not a loud to have any guy friends?”  By now you were furious; your fist clenching the water bottle in your hand and you didn’t care if it were to explode as that was what you felt like doing right now.  

“It’s not like that!” Chris shouted back at you; the veins in his arms popping.  

“Yeah well you could have fooled me!”  Your anger was boiling through you as you stared back at Chris.  Ever since Tom came into town, Chris had been acting weird. Yet whenever he went to hang out with his friends, girls included, you never got on his case about it.  If he was going to cause this much of an uproar over you hanging out with Tom, let alone any of your guy friends, you wouldn’t be able to handle it.  

“Why can’t you just trust me?  What did I do to you for you to not trust me?  Huh Chris?  Cause you’re acting like I’ve gone out and fucked the entire Los Angeles population!” You threw your hands up in the air, so disappointed in Chris with the way he was treating you.  

His eyes narrowed at you as he continued to keep his arms wrapped around his chest.  “I do trust you,” he said in a monotone voice.  

You laughed at his reply. “Bullshit Chris.  If you trust me, you wouldn’t be acting this way.”  The two of you stood there, staring at one another; tension filling the air.  Your thoughts raced through your mind.  The last thing you wanted to do was choose between Chris and Tom, but it felt like you had no choice with the way Chris was acting.  Lowering your head, you gave it a shake before speaking.  “I think we need to take a break.  A break from us.”

Looking up, your eyes met Chris’ and he didn’t seem to change his stance.  He still looked pissed off with his arms across his chest.  That’s when you knew you had made the right choice.  Chris wasn’t fighting for your relationship like you thought he would; he wasn’t pleading with you to change your mind.  Nodding, you turned and made your way into the bedroom, closing the door as you let silent tears escape your eyes.  

Tag List: @the-wayward-robot @badassbaker @guera31 @pumbibaby @princess-evans-addict @mrs-captain-evans @chrisevansfanfic @poerebel @livslookingforloki @raveviolet @brastrangled @xjjlex @joannie95 @patzammit @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @southerngracela @tanelle83

[beersfromthebleachers]

The Avengers vs. Game of Thrones; an All-Star Game

We are going to let the dust settle in the over packed weekend between the release of Marvel’s End Game and HBO’s Game of Thrones. The worst thing that you can look up on the internet is any spoilers your horrible friends or coworkers can have already bragged about seeing both this weekend. Instead of making another post of, “This is what you missed this weekend...” I am going to do something a little more fun...at least from my point of view.

Since both storylines are ending, I feel like there needs to be a championed crowned in which franchise is better. Now every nerd that I know (including me being one of them) would simply pin them against each other in combat to see who would win in battle. The only unfortunate circumstance that entails is having fantasy realm versus the over whelming edge of anyone who has superpowers. Instead of giving out heroes a humbling death, I’d rather have them square off against each other in a “fantasy baseball” game to see which team is considered more worthy of being the best.

***Note to reader: I do not own any of the following characters in the writing of this blog. All characters belong to the property of Marvel Comics, the Home Broadcasting Network, and George R.R. Martin. Everything in this post is written completely in parody for entertaining purposes and all rights are reserved. The following lineups are the position players of each of the following teams:

Team Avengers:

C- Captain America: The leader of the Avengers will take the best position where he can call all the shots, behind home plate. Playing the backstop will make sure no one would run on the First Avenger as he feeds a laser to any one of his teammates if they are stealing. Cap has mentioned before that he was a fan of the New York Yankees; consider him a more lethal Yogi Berra, but with the true American spirit of the other “Captain,” Jason Varitek.

1B- Hulk: The strongest Avenger will deliver a great deal of power being the first baseman for the Avengers. A towering command of strength will be a guaranteed home run at the plate...as long as he not going ballistic in rage if ends up striking out instead. Consider this dude putting the Big Hurt on you, Frank Thomas style.

2B- Black Panther: the King of Wakanda will be one of the quickest infielders whether he is playing the shift or conducting a double play to any of the Avenger-basemen. The highly skilled king will also be a playmaker every time he goes to bat for the team, a guaranteed hit to make sure he gets on base. Let us not forget, for all you movie nerds that the actor who played T’Challa also played Jackie Robinson in a stand-alone biopic.

3B- Thor: The other ruler on this ball diamond who will deliver some great power behind the plate using Mjoliner. The first to third connection to Hulk is the only other Avenger who is capable of catching a fast throw from the God of Thunder. If you ever imagined what Chipper Jones would look like with long hair and a beard, he definitely would be the best representation of the Asgardian.

SS- Ant Man: I could not help myself putting a hero who can shrink down to a position that is a good play on words. As funny as that sounds, that superpower would come in handy being able to grow to a giant in order to snag a line drive that would not end up reaching the gap to the outfield. As crafty as Scott Lang would be, he also developed some “magic tricks” while not wearing the infamous suit; did you know that Javier Baez’s nickname for his tricks is “El Mago”?

LF- Dr. Strange: The legitimate Sorcerer Supreme will be the real magician on the field displaying his talents in left field. The biggest piece of this defense will make plays from anywhere and everywhere on the field. Nothing will leave the yard and Dr. Strange will make sure almost every time that no base runner from the opposite team will advance, even if it is to home plate. Consider Dr. Strange the best left fielder in the game, right there next to the legend himself: Ted Williams.

CF- Iron Man: The man who is in line exactly with Captain America with guarding the diameter of the ballpark; Iron Man. Tony Stark will be orchestrating all the patterns in the outfield and making sure not a single ball will leave the field. With the entire arsenal in his suit, Iron Man can put the ball anywhere into play from on base single to a grand slam home run. There is only one true “Iron Man” playing center field on the field right now, and his name is Mike Trout.

RF- Spider-Man: Who would have ever thought that nerdy Peter Parker would be stuck in right field for the Avengers? The final asset to the outfield for this team makes them close enough to flawless on defense; there is no excuse for anything to go over the web-slinger’s head operating the right field foul post. The Queens native will do everything possible to demonstrate his best attempt at being a New York Met, perhaps channeling the athleticism of the greatest Met to play right field; Ron Swoboda.

Starting Pitcher- Hawkeye: You give Clint Barton, who has the best accuracy of all his teammates, the ball as the starting pitcher for the Avengers and he is nailing the ball in the strike zone every pitch of the game. Hawkeye has heat, skill, and durability in order to paint the corners of the batter’s box as his own personal target. As much versatility this mighty hero has, Hawkeye will gather as many strikeouts as Nolan Ryan trying to pitch a winning game for the Avengers.

Team Game of Thrones:

C- Sandor “The Hound” Clegane: Had Hodor still be alive this far into the series, he most likely would make as good as a back stop, but Clegane has more brute force and a better defensive mind set. Clegane is an aggressive fighter known all over Westeros, he will carry the same reputation while at the plate tearing up pitchers. As good as any swordsman, his power can drive in any runner on base to get the quick RBI. Give Clegane the best comparison to Mike Piazza; for being well known but never winning anything of true honor.

1B- Jamie Lannister: The “Kingslayer” will look to add new target to the two crowns he faces on the opposing end. Lannister also has an altered handicapped having an iron hand for his right hand, making him left-handed batter that could deliver power with some iron behind it. From the Young Lion to Iron Lion, Lannister will be a definite Silver Slugger with what he delivers offensively. Scrapping with some of the best adversaries, Lannister is a mighty competitor with the resume proving he is mighty fighter; close enough to the royalty on what Lou Gehrig shared in the game as a champion.

2B- Grey Worm: the Unsullied leader will make a fine slugger at second base for the team that represents the seven kingdoms. With his attacking style, his batting profile will have him as a threat every time he goes to bat for the Throne. His offense will reflect well with his defense, collecting as many double plays as the adversaries he will be facing. Seeking no mercy, Grey Worm’s lethal style will be the same as Craig Biggio.

3B- Tormund: The mighty Wildling will display some impressive hacking skill at the plate, trying to outperform not only his teammates, but also the ones he will face. Tormund will display an aggressive playing style on defense, being the last stand on the diamond preventing anyone that will attempt to score against the Throne. The wild personality of “Giant’s Bane” makes him a fan favorite to anyone watching him from the stands. Before he became an internet sensation, I had heavy beliefs that Justin Turner was a distant relative as a Wildling for the Los Angeles Dodgers.

SS- Tyrion Lannister: I thought I had my fill at the “short” jokes with the position assignment; however, I could not resist assigning this one to “the Imp” of House Lannister. The skillful Tyrion may not have anything to add on offense, but he will be even a bigger asset on defense in the infield. With his genius intellect, he will execute simple plays that demonstrate preventing runs from advancing on the bases. To fool his opponents, he will have the size of Jose Altuve, the mechanics like Ozzie Smith, and the drinking capability of Wade Boggs.

LF- Daario Naharis: A crafty warrior representing the fighters of House Targaryen, Naharis will display amazing acrobatics in left field for the Throne. With Tormund being the entertainment of the roster, Naharis will be the heartthrob for the ladies in the stands. As much skill as he has as a fighter, he will deliver on base hits that will guarantee him to be a threat on the bags; this also includes the probability of stealing a great deal of bases being a stealth fighter as well. Daario Naharis has not shown his presence as of lately on the show, perhaps his skills are a legend as are the tales of Shoeless Joe Jackson.

CF- Gendry: As a bastard son of the last Baratheon King that sat on the Iron Throne, Gendry is a skilled swordsman that carries his own for the team for the Throne. A worthy batter, he has been trained and skilled in many houses in order to become one of the best threats at the plate. His skills are kept as a secret, in order to be known as a quiet threat at the plate. Gendry is a big team player and contributes to a great deal of assists on the field; you can compare him to a young Dexter Fowler.

RF- Euron Greyjoy: the raging pirate and king of House Greyjoy has a great deal pf power and strength to display at the plate. Euron is a force to reckon with being an offensive asset that is lethal and dangerous to be facing. With his brute force, he also holds a great defensive mind set holding down right field and a threat to anyone who tags on the bases. As a pirate, you can expect him to “loot” the bases as a quick threat, despite his brute stature. Euron Greyjoy may have the capability to play like Reggie Jackson.

Starting Pitcher- Jon Snow/Aegon Targaryen: The Lord Commander of the North will demonstrate all of his best mechanics at the mound. After being trained by House Stark and the Night’s Watch, he has the entire arsenal to deliver the best variety of pitches on the mound. After discovering that he is the true air to the Iron Throne being a Targaryen, it gave him that little extra special push to have some of the best heat to deliver to the strike zone. Torching pitches with lethal command makes Jon Snow comparable to Greg Maddux

Both rosters have talented line ups on both end of the field, however I feel like I’m going to get some criticism for the lack of variety from other key characters in the series. It is also important to understand that in baseball, you cannot win championships without spectacular pitching. The following key characters of both team are your all-star studded cast for their bullpens, respectfully:

Team Avengers Bullpen:

Relief Pitcher- Black Widow: The first call to the bullpen will be Hawkeye’s first partner in crime: Natasha Romanoff. Carrying on to what Barton has with accuracy, Black Widow is not too far off from what they share in target practice. Romanoff will do “whatever it takes” to get the job done and carry on the game to the next inning. Expect Black Widow’s relief style to be swift, like Aroldis Chapman.

Relief Pitcher- Scarlett Witch: The set up woman for the Avengers would be perfect putting the ball in Scarlett Witch’s hands. Her control of the ball is what is going to be essential in those dramatic moments when the game is at its highest peak. Scarlett Witch will be casting all types of spells delivered to the strike zone, leaving hitters in a daze and possibly confused. With the amount of pitches she will deliver, you can compare Scarlett Witch to Josh Hader.

Closer- Captain Marvel: In the period where the game will be at its climax, if the Avengers are in trouble or ahead, they will look to Carol Danvers for the save. Captain Marvel delivers the best presence on the mound for Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, as she will be dialed in ninth inning. With her supernova strength, all of her pitches will be close to untouchable, it will be close to near impossible to get a single hit off of her. With the filthiest stuff in the bullpen, Captain Marvel models her pitching style as Trevor Hoffman did in most closing scenarios.

 Team Game of Thrones Bullpen:

Relief Pitcher- Brienne of Tarth: Brienne is fantastic substitute player than can play anywhere in the outfield as well as be a legitimate contact hitter for the Throne. What is even more special in characteristics of her mechanics is how well she stays on target. Brienne has the capability of being a relief pitcher in order to deliver success if the team is in need of aid. With her tall frame and power, she has the ability to command and pound the strike zone. Brienne may look like Billy Wagner on the mound if she gets the chance to relieve Snow in the game.

Relief Pitcher- Daenerys Targaryen: Enter the “Mother of Dragons” herself; Daenerys is the perfect set up woman if the Throne baseball team has a commanding lead. With the power influence of a dragon, she can torch the strike zone without fail and delivers her signature strikeout of each batter: DraKarys! Dany has the pitching mechanics like Craig Kimbrel and could possibly give him a run for his money as a better relief pitcher.

Closer- Arya Stark: Enter the secret assassin who has many faces. Arya Stark has proven to be one of the most dangerous assets (and in this case, teammates) on the side of the Iron Throne. With last night’s reveal, it should be known that she is not a force to reckon with in the deadly Game of Thrones. With her killer instinct on knowing how to dismantle players, she will have lights out stuff to throw from the mound. You can compare Arya to the likes of Mariano Rivera, because you will never see her coming and will not be fortunate to be left alive…in the batter’s box.

With this All Star cast facing each other in something that you would probably pay a great deal of money to see at Comic Con, who do you think would win this amazing baseball match up? I leave the result to be held in the world of imagination, but if this carries on as a thread, I would love to see how baseball fans would have this adaptation of fantasy baseball. We are more than fortunate for both of these franchises being a part of our lives over the past decade. With the influence of baseball, both of these team would be a great mash up to see play each other in a match for the ages.

[kinktae]

Tempting || 7

Y/N is an angel and a good one at that. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She is out performing her duties when she runs into a demon. Luckily for her, that demon, Taehyung, doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, Taehyung just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

Or, “For someone who is meant to be so pure, you sure are dirty, angel.”

pairing: demon!taehyung x angel!reader

genre: fantasy, smut, angst

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of suicide/death, lots of dirty talk and smut lol

A/N: this is less biblical and more supernatural?? Like less focus on religion itself and more focus on angels and demons as immortal creatures even though I might reference some “biblical” terms lol sorry this is too unholy anyways it’s fine. oh and this is a dream I had!

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 (final)

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CHAPTER SEVEN

“Look who is up early once!” Hobi’s bright voice called out the moment he saw me walk emerge down the stairs. Seated at the table were my three roommates, each one of them digging into their breakfast of choice.

I rolled my eyes playfully at the orange haired man’s comment. He wasn’t wrong after all; I often spent my nights awake out roaming with Taehyung. I had no idea the city was so lively at night. There was always something happening, be it good or bad. It was crazy how little of the city I actually got to see. Angelic duties didn’t allow for much sightseeing I suppose.

Some nights Taehyung and I found ourselves went sitting in Jane’s room, listening in to the funny conversations she often had over the phone with her friends late at night. It was good to see that pregnancy didn’t hinder her from living her usual teenage life.

Taehyung and I had made a sort of game out of talking back to her, pretending that her responses were to us and not to whoever was on the other line.

Most days I woke up in the afternoon, completely exhausted from having stayed up all night. But for whatever reason, my body had chosen to regain consciousness earlier than usual today.

Joining my roommates at the dining table, I sat down with an exhausted sigh.

“Those late nights studying have been really getting to you, huh?” Jimin commented, looking at my tired state sympathetically. I froze silently in my seat before relaxing back into it in an attempt to look casual.

“Yeah.” I replied, unable to meet Jimin’s eyes. None of the boys knew about Taehyung and I had zero intention of telling them. We had been taught to resent everything that demons were brought up on, so I highly doubted they would take kindly to the idea of me dating a demon.

Dating.

It was a human term that once meant nothing to me, but now it was a word that made my insides feel warm.

The feeling of Namjoon staring at me had me pushing my happy thoughts away, however, sitting up a little straighter as I turned towards my roommates.

“So, what have you guys been up to? I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in forever.” I laughed nervously, eager to take any attention off of myself.

“Same old, same old. Helping people, restoring hope back into the world.” Hobi sighed dramatically before laughing which in turn caused me to do the same.

“How about you, Jimin?” I stated, turning towards him. He looked taken off guard, mouth full of his omelet. He swallowed it down harshly.

“Uh, nothing new really... Well, I mean, there’s this girl–”

“A girl? You’re seeing someone?!” I interrupted, excited at the idea that one of my roommates was dating someone as well. Jimin’s eyes grew wide at my words, cheeks flushing on cue.

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s a human girl. She started coming around the park to tend to the flowers.” Jimin explained with a shake of his head.

“Oh man, watch out Jimin, looks like you got competition.” Hobi warned.

Jimin smiled crookedly, shaking his head.

“It’s nice. I appreciate the help.” He replied contently.

Hobi shrugged, “Fine, but when you’re run out of business, don’t come crying to us.”

Namjoon let out an amused chuckle but Jimin merely rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his omelet.

Suddenly, a yawn ripped through me. God, I was tired. Maybe a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go back to bed. Sorry to leave so soon but I’m exhausted.” I told the boys, standing up to leave.

“Uh, Y/N!” Hobi called out suddenly, causing me to pause my movements.

“There’s, uh, something I wanted to ask you, actually.” He continued, sounding uncomfortable. Noticing the atmosphere of the room shift significantly, I sat back down slowly.

“Okay...” I responded, beckoning him to continue.

Hobi glance to Namjoon momentarily, who nodded at him. What was that for?

“Did you, uh, happen to borrow an essence suppressor?”

I blinked in surprise, my body growing cold.

Did he know?

“I... Why do you ask?” I finally responded, not sure whether to answer him truthfully or not.

“Well, they’re not exactly easy to come by, and I’m in charge of them so it’s my job to keep track of how many are left. There was one missing.” He revealed, tapping his fingertips against the table.

“Oh, wow. Are you sure?” I tried, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

I suddenly became aware of how intently the three boys were staring at them.

“Well, it wasn’t me. Namjoon, Jimin, was it one of you guys?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. I could feel myself beginning to panic.

“They don’t have any reason to steal one from me, Y/N.” Hobi told me firmly, causing me to frown.

“So what? You think I have a reason?” I quipped defensively. “I’ve been studying for the past two weeks– Why would I need an essence suppressor?”

Jimin looked at me, clearly surprised at my tone. I didn’t know why I was growing angry with Hoseok. He was right, after all. I had taken it from him.

“I dunno, none of us has seen much of you lately so I figured–”

“Well, you figured wrong.” I snapped coldly, standing up from my seat.

“Y/N, calm down.” Namjoon said, suddenly speaking up. I turned my head to glare at him.

“I am calm!” I told him angrily, my voice coming out louder than I would’ve liked. Something within my chest felt tight and the way the boys were all looking at me only amplified the sensation.

“We know you’re stressed out from studying so hard. It makes sense that you would’ve wanted to go out to Limbo again to let off some steam, no one is upset with you.” Namjoon reasoned causing me to scoff.

“Limbo? You think I stole a suppressor because I wanted to go clubbing? Please, I didn’t take your stupid suppressor.” I huffed.

That’s a lie.

“Y/N–” Namjoon began as if to warn me to calm down again.

“No, you know what, this whole confrontation is just stupid. Just leave me alone!” I frowned, walking out of the room and up the stairs before anyone could say anything else.

There was something wrong– there had to be. Because with every step I took I felt myself growing angrier. I knew I was in the wrong, I knew I should just go back down and apologize but the thought of having to face my roommates once again only made me angrier so I opted instead to head into my room, shutting my door with a dramatic slam.

Letting myself fall onto my bed, I frowned. I let my eyes fall over my room; my lights were off, painting the space in a dark color that once made me uneasy but ever since Taehyung entered my life, now provided me with unexpected comfort.

My hands found purchase onto the nearest pillow within my reach and before I could think to question myself, I shoved my face into it and let out a muffled scream.

A few seconds ticked by before I let the pillow fall down onto my lap, my breathing slowing. I had remembered that one of Jane's favorite movies had a scene where the protagonist had screamed into a pillow and while I wasn't sure what the action was meant to accomplish, I realized the tightness in my chest had lessened.

Letting out a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair.

My anger had begun to subside and in its place was a sinking filling in my stomach. I didn't need to know that Wrath was a sin for me to know that raising my voice at the boys was wrong, I could feel it.

The sound of multiple footsteps coming up the stairs cause my breathing to hitch, turning to face the wooden surface of my shut door. For a moment, I feared that they were headed my way, my grip on the pillow tightening.

However, I quickly realized that I was listening to the sounds of the boys moving to get ready to do their jobs– to be angels.

Laying back onto my bed, I shut my eyes. Between the footsteps were small hints of hushed words that I couldn't make out, a bitter reminder of just how distant I was growing from the people I considered family.

I laid in the cool shadow of my room as everyone made their way back downstairs and out the front door, carrying on to be productive with their day.

Tears pricked at my eyes as my mind fell victim to the darkened thoughts that were racing through it.

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Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I took in the state of our study room. Oddly enough it went by relatively unused despite the fact that this house was home to an Archangel. Namjoon had access to the Angelic Archives, an impressive library only accessible to those in higher ranks; our little at home library was archaic in comparison.

Scanning the bookshelf, I finally came across the book I had been looking for and pulled it from the shelf eagerly.

If I had been studying for your placement test like I was supposed to then maybe this would have been spending my free time, not with a blond demon roaming the city streets.

As I lay in my bed mopping, I realized that perhaps it was time that I did research after all.

Opening the thick book, I let out a cough of protest as an unfortunate amount of dust ejected itself into the air. 

Jesus. We really have been neglecting these books.

Waving a hand above the book, my eyes fall onto the page I just opened. Printed at the top read the word ‘Succubus,’ a lengthy description just below it. 

If my questions were going to be answered anywhere it would be the Demonic Encyclopedia. Giving the unsettling sketch of the demon printed onto the page a brief glance, I quickly flipped back a few pages. My guess was that this book was in alphabetical order, as most encyclopedias were.

My hunch proved itself to be correct, as my eyes fell upon the word I had been searching for.

“Scelus,” I read out loud, “Latin for the word ‘sin’. Etymology can be found from the Proto-Indo-European branch. The root word ‘skel’ meaning to bend, or to curve. Like most demons, Sceluses possess a demonic and human form.”

Understanding Taehyung meant understanding all parts of him and as much as I didn’t want to know more I knew I had to. There was a small part of me that feared that being with him was changing me– in which way, I wasn’t quite sure.

I let out a sigh, my arms growing tired from holding up the heavy book. Walking over to the study room’s desk, I set it down, peering over it as I continued to read.

Sceluses are demons of suggestion, holding no outward control over their target’s bodies. Routinely, the Scelus slips into the mind of a human, inserting ideas of chaos and misconduct. A Scelus works to tempt humans to sin, disguising their suggestions as being the victim’s own thoughts. Those that are particularly weak-willed are most likely to listen to the Sceluses suggestions, thus embarking on a path towards sin and chaos.

I paused, a cold feeling of uneasiness falling over me. 

Taehyung had once slipped into my mind, trying to get me to kiss him– to sin. He hadn’t inserted any more ideas into my mind since that day but given where we were today, it was safe to say Taehyung had succeeded in leading me to sin.

Ignoring that realization, I pressed on.

Although physically unable to physically manipulate a victim like more traditional demons, Sceluses hold more power over a human soul than most. In its demonic form, it possesses the ability to sever the soul from the heart. By cutting off all empathy and love, the soul then blackens, essentially assuring soul a spot in Hell, too far gone to repent. Witnesses of this process have described it as horrifically chilling, the demon entering the human while writhing and thrashing in agony.

A harsh exhale of air left my lips. That night at Jane’s. Taehyung had cut Jake's soul. It was the only way he could hurt Jake and protect Jane.

A drawing on the page pulled me away from its next passage.

It wasn’t what I would expect a demon to look like; there were no twisted features or bared sharp teeth. No, the drawing itself didn’t consist of much at all. The demon drawn was thin and long– dark and entirely featureless except for two distinct eyes. I imagined they would be human-like if it weren’t for the way the irises were shades black, blending into the pupils.

I still remembered that night outside Jane’s house. How I nearly mistook Taehyung for a shadow as he leaned back against a tree, the shine of his eyes being the only thing I could make sense of.

A wave of nausea rolled over me. The idea of that Taehyung used to spent his days lurking in the dark as he tempted people into sin suddenly too much to grasp. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I let my mind wander, craving anything and everything that would take my mind off what I had just read.

Jin.

Taehyung’s friend wasn’t entirely human, right? What was it that Taehyung had called him? A Demi? 

Cautiously, I began moving back into the book, flipping through the pages of demons beginning with the letter D. To my disappointment, the word Demi failed to show up. Frowning, I tapped a finger against the book. 

Alright, what else could I look up?

Sifting through the book, I came across “Incubus,” letting out a noise of recognition as I remembered that Taehyung’s friend Jungkook was an Incubus.

Incubus. Derived from the Latin word root ‘incub’ meaning to lie upon. Incubi are demons of Lust, feeding off sexual energy by sleeping with women. Incubi can either feed in their demon form, praying on sleeping women through nightmares or can physically fornicate in their human form. Incubi, along with their female counterparts (see Succubus page 312) are said to be alluring and sexually aggressive by nature. These demons can usually lure their targets quite effortlessly. Incubi are capable of killing their targets but many prefer to keep the woman they involve themselves with alive so they may feed on them habitually. 

Goodness. No wonder Taehyung had insisted on keeping me away from Jungkook. I had assumed he was just possessive, but clearly, he had reason to be cautious.

Incubi have on occasion been known to produce offspring with human women. These offspring are formally known as ‘Cambion,’ although often referred to as ‘demi-demons.’ During the 15th–18th centuries, women who claimed pregnancy through Incubi encounters were often accused of witchcraft and burned before the child could be birthed. Cambion hold no demonic power, but as children have been reported as ‘resenting human touch’ and ‘not developing a pulse or need to breathe until after completing human puberty.’

So that was it then. Jin was a Cambion. My heart felt heavy as I imagined the difficult childhood the kind man must have had. I couldn’t even begin to fathom the pain of having your family abandon you over things you have no control over. 

I scanned over the rest of the page, finding examples of famous Cambion throughout history and famous cases of Incubus linked serial killers.

A loud knock against the front door suddenly captured my attention, my head snapping up and away from the book.

Cocking my head to the side, I stayed silent. Who was that? 

I glanced towards the clock mounted on the wall, frowning as I realized that it was still far too early for the boys to come home. There was still an hour before sunset.

Was it Taehyung?

I shook my head, dismissing that idea immediately. No, Taehyung always came over when it was dark out, besides, he wouldn’t come through the front door. It was too risky considering I lived with three other angels, not to mention he once joked that sneaking in through my window made him feel cool.

Perhaps it was just a group of human kids. Our house had been enchanted to look old and abandoned to the human eye, so it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the children in the neighborhood to challenge one another to knock on the door. I didn’t understand the logic behind it as they almost always ran away scared right after but then again, there were still a lot of human tendencies that confused me.

Realizing that my best bet was to just look through the peephole and see for myself, I quickly shuffling out the room, making my way over the front door. Another loud knock rang out against it just before I reached it.

Cautiously, I peered through the peephole to see, curious to see who it was that was so insistent on entering our house. A gasp fell from me as a pale hand running through black hair came into view.

Yoongi.

I backed away from the door immediately, crouching down before I could think twice. I knew he couldn’t see me through the front door, but fear couldn’t help but burrow its way into me. I had to stay quiet. Surely he’d go away if he thought no one was home, right?

What in heavens name was he doing here? Why was Taehyung’s scary vampire friend at my doorstep? Oh God, I should’ve read the chapter on Vampires. If Yoongi somehow made his way in, I had no idea to protect myself. All my powers were light based and seeing as he had just walked on over here in the sunlight, I doubt it would do much good against him. Maybe I could quietly sneak back into the study room; there had to be some sort of information on how to defend yourself against death vampires in the Demonic Encyclopedia.

“Y/N, I know you’re there. I heard you gasp.” Yoongi’s low voice rang out from outside nearly causing me to lose my footing.

“Um.. I-I... Now isn’t a good time.” I called out, struggling to conjure up an excuse as to why I couldn’t open the door other than the fact that I was terrified of him. 

There was no way I was opening this door.

“Open the door.” Yoongi ordered unforgivingly.

Haha, just kidding!

All but lunging towards the doorknob, I swung the door open, not wanting to anger him any further. Yoongi’s disinterested eyes met my panicked ones.

“Hi.” I breathed, paralyzed to my spot. I was pretty sure he knew I was an angel after hearing his conversation with Taehyung, but now, without any essence suppressor present, I had no doubt he knew.

“Hey.” Yoongi replied dryly.

Not knowing what to say, I let silence fall between us.

“Can I come in?” He said, raising an eyebrow. I jumped back into life.

“Yes! O-Of course! Please!” I squeaked, moving out of the way so he could enter. Yoongi walked past me with a small clearing of his throat.

Suddenly, an awful vampire tv-shows Jane watched came to mind. In one of the episodes, the vampire had to be verbally invited in otherwise they couldn't enter the house.

Nice going. I just failed basic vampire self-defense.

“Look, I’m not here to bullshit around. Let me get straight to the point.” Yoongi said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. My hands pulled on the sleeve of my sweater nervously as I nodded in response.

“You need to stay away from Taehyung. Move on. Find someone else. Take a vow of celibacy or something, I don’t really care.”

I blushed at the mention of celibacy but otherwise didn't respond. I was too scared to.

“You're not good for him.” Yoongi pressed.

His words were laced in venom, looking at me as if I were something of an inconvenience, causing something in my chest to harden.

The last thing I wanted was to upset Yoonig but as I took in everything that was happening, I began to grow annoyed. Yoongi had marched into my home, unannounced, only to scold me about being a bad influence on Taehyung? This guy really had absolutely no manners.

“You... You don’t know that...” I replied, my voice small, trying to work up my nerve.

“Actually, I do.”

“No. You don’t.” I finally said, my voice steady. 

Yoongi looked taken aback, clearly not expecting me to hold my stance. I could feel my hands trembling but if I wanted to hold my ground, I needed to continue on.

“Taehyung is learning how to be good. He... He is good! He’s kind and considerate; he has love in his heart, love that was there long before I even knew him.” I urged, hoping my words would reach Yoongi.

“He is a demon. His soul is corrupt and quite frankly, Hell’s property. The scars on his back are proof of that.” He deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shook my head.

“Do you think I’d be with him if I didn’t see good in him? Besides, why do you care if we’re together or not? You don’t even know me.” I argued, refusing to back down. The way Yoongi was looking at me made me feel small and meek and it was fueling the anger already boiling within me.

“I don’t know you?” Yoongi said, laughing bitterly, “I know that you’re an angel that has no idea what’ll happen when you guys get caught. That’s all I need to know.”

Enough. This conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere and Yoongi hardly seemed like the find the middle ground type.

“I know Taehyung appreciates your concern, but this has nothing to do with you. Let him make his own choices. I love Taehyung. I know you probably don’t understand that, but it means that I’m going to fight, okay? I’m not going to let anything get in the way of us, including you.” I told him, firmly. 

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, causing my resolve to tumble.

“Um, also, I– I’m training to become a Power. So if I have to fight you, I, uh, will.” I said before I could stop myself.

The threat sounded incredibly weak, even I didn’t believe my own words. Still, I couldn’t let Yoongi know that if I ever wanted a chance of him taking me seriously. I forced on a calm expression, masking how scared and unsure I actually felt. My hands balled themselves into fists beside myself in a subconscious attempt to ground myself.

For several moments, no one said anything, Yoongi’s eyes refusing to pull away from mine. His stare was extremely unnerving but I narrowed my eyes at him, refusing to back down.

He frowned.

“I have to take a piss. Where’s your bathroom?”

The question took me completely off guard and my serious facade crumbled away as I gawked dumbly at the pale boy.

“Down the hallway past the stairs. The second door on your right.” I said, tilting my head in confusion. 

Did I miss something? How did such a tense conversation turn into something so casual so quickly? 

Yoongi offered me a nod before walking further into the house, making his way towards the bathroom.

I blinked.

Did vampires even use the restroom? Taehyung said that Yoongi wasn’t a blood-lusting vampire but instead fed off people’s last remaining life source. Did life source make the same journey that regular food did?

I should use this moment to sneak into the study and quickly read up on vampires, right? 

Wait, no, the study room was too close to the bathroom. Yoongi could sneak up behind me. I needed to be alert. Also, I feel as if that’d be extremely uncomfortable if Yoongi walked in on me reading about him.

Please, God, don’t let vampires like the taste of Angels.

I shook my head, trying to clear my head of such impertinent thoughts.

Now what?

I swayed my weight from foot to foot, trying to distract myself as I waited for Yoongi to finish in the bathroom. The sound of our grandfather clock ticking consumed the room.

Oh, forget this! I’m not just going to stand here like a stranger in my own house. Making my way into the kitchen, I began to look for something I could snack on– anything to give me something to do while I waited. Eating excessively when I was stressed out was something I had always avoided, as Gluttony was a sin, but lately, I found myself way too stressed to care.

I found a box of crackers in the cupboard and I reached into it blindly. I shoved a cracker into my mouth greedily.

I had a vampire in my house.

A vampire.

Perhaps, I was some sort of demon beacon. I mean, Taehyung had been following Jake who just so happened to be interested Jane who I was in charge of. Two weeks after that initial confrontation, I ran into Jin, who was half demon and then consequently ran into Taehyung once again who introduced me to his whole team of demons. And now I had a vampire peeing in my bathroom.

I let out a laugh of disbelief at how ridiculous my life had become, only to drown the sound out with another wave of crackers.

I had so many questions.

How did Yoongi even know I lived here?

What if the boys were home when Yoongi had knocked on the door? I could just imagine Hobi opening the door, and passing out the moment he found out that our visitor was a vampire. 

No, wait. Seriously, what if the boys were home? 

That was pretty reckless of Yoongi to just knock on our door like that. I thought he was some kind of ancient vampire. Shouldn’t he be incredibly wise, having had been alive for so long? Or, should I say, dead?

“I thought Gluttony was a sin.” Yoongi’s voice said suddenly, causing me to jump. A piece of cracker that I had yet to chew fell onto the floor, breaking on impact. Yoongi stared at me in mild interest, one of his hands stuffed in his pocket.

I glared at him openly, as he was the cause of my sudden glutton, “It is.”

“Alright.” He replied, before turning to head out the kitchen.

“Um, where are you going?” I called out in confusion, setting my box of crackers onto the nearest surface, hurrying after the vampire.

“Home.” He replied not bothering to stop for me, pushing right through our front door. I poked my head out the door, contemplating whether or not I should be following him.

“I thought you were trying to convince me to leave Taehyung?” I called out. This guy changed paces so often that I literally couldn’t keep up.

Yoongi turned around to face me as he walked, now on our sidewalk. It was beginning to get dark outside, I noted.

“Tried. Failed. Whatever.” He shrugged, before turning around. I could only watch as he left, my eyebrows furrowed in utter bewilderment. 

I had always thought that Taehyung was a complex person but Yoongi? Yoongi takes the cake for being the most unreadable person I’ve ever come across.

Letting out a huff, I gripped onto the metal of the doorknob, shut myself back into the house and locking it, for good measure.

New rule: no supernatural creature is allowed into this house without having had conducted proper research into them.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I found myself walking into the study room. I doubted Yoongi was going to pay me any more unexpected visits, but even so, if I need to stock up on cloves of garlic, I wanted to know.

The book was exactly where I had left it and I didn't hesitate to flip over to the ‘V’ demon section.

‘Vacuus’ was the first name to greet me and although it’s brief summary intrigued me, I had a goal in mind.

‘Venenum’ greeted me as I turned the page.

Wait a minute...

Flipping that very same page back, I was once against greeted by Vacuus.

Shouldn’t Vampire come between these two? I stared down at the book, the unmistakable feeling that something was wrong washing over me.

Letting my eyes run down the area between the two pages, I realized that though small, there was evidence of a piece of paper that had been carefully pulled out from the book’s spine.

A page was missing. Vampire was missing.

I took a step back and looked to the floor. Just by the looks of it, the book must have been ancient, the pages flimsy and browning. Certainly, it was possible the page could’ve fallen out. 

Sinking to my knees, I checked to see if it had perhaps fallen beneath the desk, only to let out a sigh in disappointment when I realized there was nothing there.

To my understanding, these books had come with this house, meaning the page could’ve fallen out ages ago and I wouldn’t have known. Lord knows whoever had it before could’ve been careless with the book.

I let my finger trail down the ragged edge, pressing my lips together in annoyance.

I scoffed. Of all the pages, it just had to be Vampire.

What the hell?

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NEXT CHAPTER IS THE BIG ONE FOR THOSE SMUT ENTHUSIASTS ;)

[harveywritings92]

R/n: Bring the vodka.

Angel Dust: I thought we were going to Taco bell…?

R/n: We are.

{Soft Tacos and Baja blast Margaritas were had by all.]