#The last two were horrid where I had a male body

[misslavenderlady]

Love at First Bite pt. 3💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: Months have gone by and the bond between Oliver and Sis has grown quite a lot. So much to a point where romance is in the air between them. When he proves how much he truly cares about her, the vampire king decides it's ready for the next step in bringing Oliver and his bride closer~

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read the previous parts if you haven't yet!

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of animal death, trauma, PTSD emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, threats, attempted mugging, knife, cut wound, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol, bribery/blackmail. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987.

5 Months Ago 

Sis could never be alone with her thoughts for too long. She always had to keep herself distracted by something during the night. No matter what she was doing – spending time with her babies, going on dates, or hunting for food – she had to keep her mind from wandering.. 

When that happened, terrible memories crept into her brain. Horrifying visions of the nightmares she had experienced while wide awake began to play back. Her mother's murder by her own hand. The first time she witnessed the boys feed. Hunters stealing her child and making an escape into the daylight. 

Those were the memories that she would be forced to relive again and again and AGAIN the day she left this world for good. No beastly monster could ever hope to see the light of a peaceful realm after death. She had to make the most of her time alive. 

After all, she almost didn't make it the night that Cyrus the terrible tore her head from her pregnant body. It was truly hell for her. For them all. 

The times when she struggled with those memories were the ones that she found herself longing for something from her human life. Something that was not corrupted by vampires and bloodshed. She had something long ago, which was taken by that very thing. 

Queen. Her beloved kitty cat. 

Though spoiled beyond belief and incredibly sassy in nature, Queen was a wonderful pet to Sis. Her fur was always soft and fluffy, making it extra pleasant to stroke. Sis loved the way she perched on her stomach to act as a heating pad whenever she dealt with monthly cramps. Her soft purrs and head rubs made Sis' feel safe and loved. 

They were loyal companions until the very end…..when David snapped poor Queen's neck. 

Sis rarely thought about that terrible night. Thinking about holding the body of her fur baby after the horrid crunch of broken bones filled her ears never failed to bring tears to Sis' eyes. The only reason she began to think about her cat again after years of being a vampire was because she had found an old belonging of Queens. 

It had been an uneventful night. Some spring cleaning to occupy her mind. Sis was simply looking for some old antiques to either pawn or decorate the nest with. A velvet jewelry box had caught her eye, sparking an old memory of what she had put inside long ago. 

Queen's collar. The last thing she had to remember the kitty by. It even had the tag with Sis's old address on it. Now it was a faded memory of what was once home for the two.

Any work that had captured Sis's focus was forgotten by her. She was completely stuck. Just staring at the trinket and letting tears slip down her cheeks as she grieved in silence.  

"My sweet," a raspy voice called to Sis, pulling her attention away. "What're you up to tonight?" 

David. Of course, he would pick the worst possible time to try to cause some mischief. Her grip tightened around the woven fabric of the old collar. Her hand trembled terribly, collecting all of her anxiety and anger into one tiny part of her body. 

How dare he show his face now? The murderer who took the innocent pet from this world too soon. Even with love and happiness and a beautiful family, Sis would never forget what a monster her husband was. He struck pure terror in her heart when he took her kitty away. 

He knew how much she loved her baby, and he still killed the cat without an iota of guilt in his blackened heart. 

"Nothing," Sis said, putting the collar back in the jewelry box before shoving it away. "Where's that bottle of absinthe we have?"

David raised an eyebrow at her question. When Sis needed a powerful drink, she usually went for vodka. She had to be in a really bad mental state if she wanted something even harder. 

Still, he knew exactly why she wanted it. He could hear all the mournful thoughts of the pet he destroyed long ago. Her lingering trauma from the incident with Cyrus made him realize she needed something to help her feel better.

"Bottom center cupboard on our drink shelf in the study," he told her. "It's tucked away in the very back."

Sis nodded, immediately taking leave. She kept her eyes focused on the ground she moved on, not meeting David's gaze. Though it wasn't exactly subtle, David excused that, as he knew her negative feelings were caused by him. 

The darkness in him did not feel remorse for what he did long ago. In his corrupted mind, it was a necessary step in the training to bring the little lady into his life. The queen of the undead needed to be aware that actions had consequences. 

Still, David and his boys had grown softer since Sis had come into their lives. She brought out warmth and love they had once assumed was gone when their humanity was destroyed. The past few years had been nothing but sacrifice from her. 

She deserved so much for all that she had given for this family. Perhaps the least he could do was provide a new companion as a replacement for Queen. Something protective and loyal, yet kind and gentle with her. Something to keep her safe. 

Something…..or someone. 

Current Day

Oliver wasn't sure what he did to deserve someone as fantastic as Sis, but he wasn't going to take it for granted. 

Ever since the girls night out she had with her lady friends, Oliver has gotten the opportunity to spend more and more time with her. It became a special bonding experience for the two of them. 

A few times a week, Sis would stroll into the restaurant on the arm of a gorgeous date or two. Sometimes it was her husbands, other times it was one of her girlfriends, and sometimes it was a fresh face that ended up disappearing before the date even ended. Oliver didn't know what their problem was ditching her like that, but that just motivated him into making her night extra special. 

Every time the closing hour came, Sis stuck around a little longer. She always saved some wine for the two of them to share, invited him to take a seat, and spent some time chatting with Oliver. 

It was one of his favorite things to look forward to during the week. He endured plenty of chaotic shifts just to get his moments alone with her. 

He was pleasantly surprised to find out how much they had in common. They both had a parent who lost their spouse, but still persisted in life, they both valued hard work, and they both adored children. It was just so easy to talk to her about the ups and downs of life. 

"I gotta say, you're really lucky having such a big family," Oliver complimented her over their drinks. "I wanted brothers and sisters so bad when I was a kid."

"I'm sure you would have been the best big brother to them," Sis assured him. It brings me joy to have my family by my side, but I do get what it's like to be lonely. To want some companionship."

That was certainly something Oliver could understand. His father couldn't bear to find love again when his mother passed. He didn't blame the guy, as he talked so highly of her when recounting stories of her life. Even if he could barely remember her, Oliver could tell his mother was the light of his father's life. 

He had always wanted to find that kind of love too. 

"I'm just grateful for all the after school stuff. Playing basketball with my friends and coaching the younger kids was always a highlight after my day."

"I think it's sweet how devoted you were to them," Sis cooed. "A good man who cares about little ones is hard to come by."

Oliver's cheeks flushed and his smile widened from his feelings of bashfulness. No matter how many nights he sat across from Sis and talked about life, he always found himself overwhelmed with positivity from her words. She was just so full of warmth and kindness. He treasured that quality in her more than she probably realized. 

"It's the least I could do. And even so, I think you're even more admirable. Being a parent to three babies and helping take care of several others is no small task."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do!" Oliver assured her. "I'm sure you're an amazing mom to them." 

Sis smiled back at the redheaded boy. Oliver had such a natural gift for making her happy. For far too long now she had heard the despicable thoughts of humans around her. Ones that saw her as a piece of meat to stick their dick into, or only told her pretty lies to get on her good side for their personal benefit. 

But whenever she gazed into his mind, she only saw kindness. Someone who genuinely wanted to listen and be her friend. Sure, he found her to be quite attractive, but his desire to be respectful outweighed everything else. He supported her other relationships and felt happy just getting the chance to spend time with her. 

The more she got to know him, the more Sis found herself growing attached to the human. So much to a point where the fear of going out into the cold, dark world was no longer as strong as it once was. 

"Ollie," she spoke, reaching outward to stroke her painted nails across his fingertips. "It's a beautiful night out. You wanna go for a walk along the beach?" 

Green eyes widened and his freckled cheeks stretched to accommodate his big smile.

"I'd love to!"

It had been ages since Sis felt comfortable enough to go out without her mates acting as security. Though she was well aware of their presence lurking in the shadows not too far from where she went, progress was still being made. 

Sis loved the open space of the Santa Carla Beach. Having a slower time in the year allowed her to enjoy the long miles of sand and water. Just the sounds of the breeze and the rocking waves to act as background. 

It was all so perfectly peaceful, and Oliver helped make it even more special. 

He truly was a gentleman, holding out his arm for her to hold onto. All she had to do was stay by his side and nuzzle close as she talked about whatever she wanted. 

All the while, Oliver's heart was racing like a jackrabbit. It made the vampire queen delighted to know he was so head over heels for her. Even without the physical reactions, she could still hear a massive collection of wild thoughts in his head. They all spun around like a tornado. 

She's so amazing. I feel like such a dork compared to her. Am I walking too fast? Too slow? Her perfume smells incredible. She's so beautiful. Don't fuck this up, Oliver. You're so lucky to be with her. 

I really want to kiss her. 

Sis sighed peacefully and relaxed against her tall companion. Such frantic thoughts made for the perfect lullaby to soothe a stressed vampire. 

"I'm sorry, am I being too quiet?" Oliver asked out loud. Little did he know he was being far from it in his head. 

"Not at all, darling~" Sis assured him. 

Boy, did that get his heart fluttering even faster. 

Sis enjoyed the sound of it all throughout their stroll. Even as they moved out of the sandy stretch of land and back onto the concrete sidewalks that connected into the city area, Sis was only focused on her companion.

So much to a point where she almost wasn't paying attention when a new presence made itself known. 

"FREEZE!" 

The sudden shout made the two of them jolt in surprise. Both their sets of eyes locked on a figure that had jumped out from behind a random street corner. A black ski mask covered the man's entire face while dark clothes and gloves covered the rest of his body. 

In his hand was a switchblade knife. Long and shining under the moonlight. Oliver's heart nearly stopped at the sight of the weapon. 

"Don't do anything stupid," the man hissed. "You're both gonna do exactly as I say. Got it?" 

Sis was not at all impressed by this idiotic robber. Too many times she'd dealt with his kind. They all wave around some weapon that can't actually do permanent damage on a creature like herself, make empty threats in exchange for money or jewelry, and yet scream like babies as she tore their throats out. They never learned their lesson. 

But Oliver didn't know that. In his mind, she was just as human as he was, and the first instinct he had was to protect her from getting hurt by this stranger. 

To Sis' surprise, Oliver gently tugged her behind his back. He put both his hands up in defense while keeping her blocked from any attacks he feared the robber would pull. 

"Okay okay," he said, trying his best to sound calm and collected. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her."

The robber gripped his switchblade tighter, waving it in the redhead's face.

"I won't hurt her so long as she hands over all the jewelry she's got on. Starting with that fancy looking choker."

If her heart still could beat, it would have skipped at that moment. Sis' eyes widened in fear and her hand fell to the base of her necklace out of instinct. 

Besides her wedding ring, that particular piece of jewelry meant the world to her. David had gifted it to her as a way to cover up the nasty scar that Cyrus left the night he took her head off. She couldn't stand the sight of it without the haunting memories, so David made sure she had the beautiful piece to cover it and take her mind off of that traumatizing experience. 

Not only that, but having a collar style brought her memories of when Queen was still alive. Though it wasn't like the collar her kitty had, such a style of jewelry had familiar aspects that gave Sis comfort. Like she would always have a piece of her companion with her. 

She couldn't bear the idea of getting her choker taken away. Oliver could sense the fear in her heart as she cowered behind him, gripping his arm tightly. 

He wouldn't let her get hurt in any way. 

"Look, man," Oliver said. "I've got over a hundred and fifty dollars from the tips I made tonight in my wallet. I've also got my debit card. They're all yours if you want, just please don't take her stuff."

"Oliver…" Sis whispered. She couldn't believe how even in the face of danger he was willing to sacrifice his own belongings so hers wouldn't be taken away.

That answer didn't fly with the robber though.  

"Fuck you, asshole! I said EVERYTHING," the robber snapped, getting angrier by the moment. He wasn't fucking around, and he made certain the two understood him loud and clear.

With a flick of his wrist, the robber swiped the switchblade outward, slicing towards Oliver. Though he jumped backward, the sharp edge nicked his skin, causing him to yipe out in pain. 

Sis was ready to start breaking bones and tearing limbs. How dare this piece of shit hurt Oliver? It was like kicking a puppy. Even so, he must have had the same thing in mind, because he acted faster than she did. 

Even with his new wound, Oliver moved swiftly, using a fist to knock the handle out of the robber's fingers. Merely half a second after that, he threw himself shoulder-first into the upper torso of his attacker, knocking him off balance and sending him down on his ass. It was truly a "blink and you'll miss it" moment. 

"Leave us alone, creep!" Oliver scolded at him, kicking the discarded switchblade across the pavement and into a nearby storm drain. It clanged against metal bars before disappearing from sight. 

Even with a disarmed and injured attacker, Oliver and Sis didn't wait around to see what he planned next. Hand-in-hand, they ran in the opposite direction, putting plenty of distance in between themselves and him. With a good pace, they were able to make it out of the area and back to the entrance of his apartment building. Even something small and dingy was better than dealing with a mugging. 

"Ollie, you crazy boy!" Sis said in shock, ushering him inside. She couldn't believe the amount of bravery the human had shown. "You could have gotten hurt worse. You could have gotten killed!" 

Even with her frightened expression, Oliver returned one with a soft look in his eyes. 

"So could you," he pointed out. "I was scared to death he was gonna do something bad to you. I couldn't let that happen!" He tried to fish his apartment keys out, but was too distracted by the blood dripping and pain shooting in his hand. 

Though the bright red painted his pale skin beautifully, Sis was surprisingly not in the mood to feed. Her undead heart was aching over how Oliver put himself in danger like that. He had no idea how unnecessary it was to do something courageous for a vampire. 

"Let's get you patched up, Hun," she cooed, taking the keys from his grasp in order to unlock the door.

Though Oliver didn't have much since moving to Santa Carla, he at least had preparations for emergencies. A hefty first aid kit was packed away under the kitchen sink, completely stocked with enough gauze, disinfectant, and wound cleaning supplies for a whole army. 

Even with his competency in caring for the cut, Sis still helped as much as she could. She tenderly held his injured hand while he used the good one to finish cleaning and bandaging. Her soft fingers caressed his skin to help soothe him more. 

"There! Good as new!" Oliver stated proudly. His hand would heal in no time. 

"Well, at least let me help a little bit more," Sis offered. She lifted Oliver's hand to her lips, gently kissing over his bandages. Whenever one of her babies got a boo boo, she did the same thing. It made the redhead smile. 

"That does help me feel better, thank you.*

The two of them fell silent for a moment. It made Sis ponder about what this boy had done for her. For months now he had taken care of her as a go-to server. He loved to wait on her hand and foot. The nights they spent drinking wine and talking about life made her feel like her heart could start beating again. He was just so genuine and sweet. 

And now he had proven he'd put his life on the line for her. Though she was more than capable of protecting herself, Cyrus had taken away a piece of her bravery. Her dignity. Her power. 

Oliver returned it to her. He wouldn't ever let anything hurt her when she was out enjoying the night she was reborn into. That was something she couldn't possibly repay him for in thanks. 

But it couldn't hurt to try anyway. 

"Maybe this will help even more," she whispered. With her eyes fluttering shut and her body moving forward, Sis brought herself in nice and close so she could kiss him. 

The hammering of Oliver's heart was like a sympathy in her ears. His lips were red-hot on her chilled skin. Her breathless body enjoyed the sigh of delight he let out. Both his arms wrapped around her as she took hold of his face in her hands. 

He was practically putty in her hands now. Warm and cozy and full of joy. 

Oh God, I think I love her. 

Make that full of love. 

Outside the apartment, a familiar figure was watching the dim light flicker in one of the windows. Smoke puffed past his lips as he took another lungful of his cigarette. He had gone through the whole smoke, and yet he didn't once take his eyes off of the silhouette before him. 

His wife was kissing the human waiter. A passionate kiss. One that radiated with gratitude and warmth. He would have been overwhelmed by the little green monster called jealousy if he knew Sis would push her luck with Oliver. But she didn't. Their kiss ended with the two holding each other. A hug of great tenderness to share their gratitude in one anothers safety. 

He knew Sis was falling for Oliver. She would have drained him ages ago if she wasn't. Though he preferred to see his fellow coven members touch his bride rather than some lowly human, he knew this was what was best for her. She needed a new love. A companion to make her feel safe. 

"Everything go alright, my king?" 

David turned his head away from the window to look at the guest he now had. Hidden in the shadows was a figure clothed from head to toe in black. A ski mask shielded his face. 

"It did," he answered, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the ground. "You can take the mask off. Nobody will see you."

The figure nodded before peeling the mask off his head. A mess of dark curls were freed, revealing the appearance of Matthew, Oliver's coworker. It wasn't long ago that he had offered the redhead advice on playing it safe around David and his wife. To be good and live to see another day. 

But even those who looked out for the innocent in Santa Carla still remained trapped under the claws of the vampire king. 

"You did good tonight, kid," David complimented him. He slipped a gloved hand into his pocket, revealing a massive envelope stuffed full with five thousand dollars. Much more than what Oliver has offered to spare Sis. 

Matthew frowned, hesitating at the reward. It never felt right doing things like this, and it never got better. 

"I hope I didn't hurt him too bad. I wish I had used a fake knife instead…"

"Nonsense! It wouldn't have been authentic," David smirked, pushing the cash into Matthew's hand. 

"Don't beat yourself up over it. You did your job, and now you can go home to that handsome fiancé of yours. I'm sure that money will be quite helpful for your wedding. Ian's a very lucky guy. Wouldn't want to lose someone special like that, right?" 

Matthew gulped, hands trembling and growing clammy from the king mentioning his husband-to-be. He had made threats to stop by for a visit if Matthew didn't agree to this in the first place. 

"Yes, my king," he sighed. "So long as you and the queen are happy, then we're happy". 

David grinned devilishly to himself. Now that the redheaded boy had passed the test, he knew for certain he was going to make the perfect gift for Sis. With his eyes moving back over the light of the window, his mind danced with devious plans of what was to come next for Oliver. 

"Oh believe me, I am ecstatic." 

end of part 3

Tag List:

@ghoulgeousimmaculate @aairadaebak @vampirefilmlover @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @crustyraccoon @charlizekkelly

[annellspethraven]

7/8/2020 I Found Her. She's Dead.

Reposted from DeviantArt. Crosspost.

TW: This entry discusses the loss of my dog to a car accident.

Those don't sound like words about writing either but really, everything in this life can be words about writing because that's what writers do. Take life and place it into the medium of the written word. I just spent a really productive day writing, albeit a more challenging one. I'm in the midst of a very long story arc (160K words and counting) and this one focuses on an interplay of three characters, the central one of which is a young woman with a reasonably bad case of PTSD. Today I wrote her personal nadir, a passage through a suicidal ideation that had the potential to end the life of the character, her unborn child, and the man fated to be her life partner. Ah, fantasy, where the author controls the endings and outcomes, and messes stay messy only for as long as we gods controlling the narratives wish it to be so.

Now I am in a rather different place. Sitting propped up in bed, with no idea how I am going to sleep tonight. I have a Plott hound under my left elbow who constantly turns her head in nervous upset. Another Plott hound is laying on top of my feet -- her brother, the same one that was snarling and snapping for all he was worth when I tried to bring him back inside awhile ago. It is his way of acting out when he is deeply upset.

It was all because I'd called the dogs inside and these two showed up but our third dog, a terrier mix named Nellas, hadn't shown up yet. That's not uncommon; we live on a farm and nighttime is when the dogs can roam the property a little more freely, and Nellas is often slower to show up than the hounds. My husband was going to be up awhile longer watching the television so I went about my usual routines but mentioned to him she hadn't come in. The usual.

From the title it is obvious that this does not end well. Nellas was in the road, just at the end of our driveway, gone. Hit by a car. The horrible irony of this is that when we adopted her, it was to replace a previous dog that looked just like her...that was hit by a car within 50 feet of the same location. So apparently the universe is telling us that trying to own brindle terrier mixes with white chests is right the fuck out. We brought her to the porch, where our male hound was trying so hard to get her to move and the female just milled all over nervously. He knew. They both knew. They were here before when Maia was killed. I don't know what to tell them. Their playmate is gone. Again.

This makes what, the hundred and fifth pet I have lost? I can't count that high. I can't count how many times I've had to feel the kick to the gut of losing an animal I care about but the cars are among the worst, when I pick up my own dog and feel the bones of her head moving around in crepitus under my hand and the body is still warm but that tail is never going to wag again, and when I gave her a bit of chicken treat at whatever time it was it would be the last time I would see her alive. And when she did the cute thing of jumping on the bed and wriggling into the covers rolling about wanting a tummy rub last night, it'd be the last for that too. Or how she would stand at the doorway and whine because of being afraid to walk past cats a quarter of her size...that she walked past all day long. So many endearments had unfolded only these last few months, after going through so much.

Did I mention she was a horrid dog? She was not at all housebroken as we were told she was, she chewed furniture, office supplies, electronics, garbage. Before Covid made it so that we never left the house, she had to be crated or placed on a lead outside because leaving her alone inside the house for more than five minutes was a recipe for disaster. But the crowning achievement was killing over 50 of our tame chickens and a beautiful peacock we had for years, on assorted occasions when we were too careless, foolish, trusting, or we basically screwed up and the dog had a chance to have a go at the birds. We only adopted Nellas in April of 2019. It's easy to remember, she was sort of an 'impulse decision' that I made exactly 2 weeks after my mother passed away. Anyone else would have taken this dog to the pound a dozen times over but we were determined to make this work because I don't view pets as disposable. Fifteen months. Even less time than we had Maia. It's tempting to want to blame the drivers in our area. Because obviously, whoever hit Nellas also didn't bother to stop just like the person who hit Maia. But at the end of it all it is our fault for not realizing our dog had gone into the street. Which was wholly news to us, because we call them in a lot. Multiple times a night and Nellas has always come from the other direction.

When my husband came in and told me "I found her, she's dead," my first thought was that it must be a joke since my mind didn't want to have to engage with that. Again, irony, when my writing partner and I have spent weeks in discussion of the nuances of a character that is unable to have a difficult but necessary discussion with someone else. For stories to be believable they have to reflect the workings of actual people, and of course the experiences one knows best are one's own -- "write what you know." Yet obviously every character out there cannot be oneself, so there is research, interviewing other people, conversation; whatever it takes to gain enough perspective to create an accurate portrayal. Sometimes we hear so often that 'the first stage of grief is denial' the whole concept seems so...hackneyed. But my own reaction was so...textbook. "You cannot possibly have said what you just said." It's going to take days to mentally go back to having two dogs again. Two eight year old dogs. With a one year old dog in the mix the house is a very different place. I don't know if we will be able to do this again. Maybe three dogs is just a bad idea.

I know that I will just keep writing. It's how I manage everything else. Had this happened at a civil hour, there might have been some friends to talk to but it's quite late. The hound under my elbow is snoring. With our sudden absence, she is sprawled across the bed in the space formerly occupied by Nellas because hounds abhor a vacuum and will expand to fill any available area even on a king sized bed. Well, Nellas' life was very short but happy. She was stuck in a crate in an apartment where she started out, and was able to be on a farm and run and raise hell. Life can be so deeply unfair but...that is just one more thing to write about. And so it goes.

© 2020 - 2023 AnnEllspethRaven

COMMENTS 2

Slofkosky

Sep 14, 2021

I'm not sure if faving this is the right thing. I am so very sorry to hear about your loss.. not only for your beloved but for your mother too. I lost my mother last year just before COVID went crazy and am so saddened by that alone. Losing my fury loved ones is some of the hardest things I've had to go through.... I'll stop now but thank you for sharing. I know this was a year ago but I know how these memories don't go away.

AnnEllspethRaven

Sep 16, 2021

Thanks for the comment...it occurs to me that I have not returned to this space in some time, even though I have things of a less tragic nature to discuss. I think that particular night will always be a snapshot in time for me of being in the middle of intently writing a story, only to be interrupted by those words. You are right, those memories don't go away.

I am equally sorry for your loss. These last few years have marked adversity of a very strange kind for so many people. Not only losses of loved ones, but losses of what seemed like very permanent lifestyles. How ephemeral so many 'sureties' really are is terribly difficult to process, but I have found some solace in a return to simplicity. I heard a talk recently about Aristotle, and his admonishment that leisure hours were for enjoyable pursuits that improved a person in some manner. That struck me, because it caused me to realize how much time I waste when time is something that is now denied to those that are gone.

Whatever your path is, I wish you well :-)

[caroldantops]

we should just kiss (like real people do)

ship: orc!carol x reader

summary/request: there are pros and cons to having a big beefy orc girlfriend

word count: 842

warnings: smut (18+), mentions of alcohol, dom!carol, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, hella size kink, carol’s kind of a himbo tbh, himbo4bimbo energy, honestly pretty fluffy. you’re just stupid idiots in luv <3 

masterlist | ao3 link | monsterfucker celebration masterlist

Dating an orc came with its pros and cons.

Cons: Carol eats more than three people combined, leaves her weapons all over the goddamn floor, and takes you to orc pubs where all her friends seemed to want to take a bite out of you (alright, that last one isn’t too bad.)

Pros: green is a cute color, she’s got the cutest fangs that peek out from her lips, and she’s big.

Really big.

Like, fucking huge.

Carol is even tall by orc standards - you’ve seen her stand next to some of the male orcs and she isn’t that much shorter than Steve, who’s an absolute mountain of a being. So compared to you, she looks enormous. The fact that she’s constantly working out to tone her already bulking muscles aids that too. Her bicep is bigger than your head.

You know, both of you measured it.

Carol’s friends always tease her about how she fell for the lost little human that stumbled upon their village on a hiking trip. Some of the more crass ones (which is a lot; orcs are much ruder than humans) joke about how they could crush you with one hand or how cute your skull would look mounted above their fireplace. It doesn’t bother you, though, because they always end up with a broken nose after Carol’s done with them.

Plus, both you and Carol like your size difference. Carol appreciates how small you look and how cute you are when you reach your arms up to try to tug her down for a kiss. And you love to wrap your arms around her waist and snuggle up against her massive body.

In fact, one of the ways you first flirted with her was while you were drunk off of the mead they’d offered you, and you made her hold up her hand to your own and you giggled about how big her hands were.

Carol ended up taking you home that night - not to fuck you, but to make sure none of the others hurt you.

You practically proposed when you woke up the next morning, but when you smelled whatever horrid meat she was cooking you for breakfast you had second thoughts.

She always brags about that night, telling everyone how she swept you off of your feet. To which you roll your eyes and just say you were into her because she had nice hands.

Which isn’t wrong.

How can you help yourself when all it takes is two fingers for your cunt to feel stretched out, filling you more than any toy you’d ever fucked yourself with? As much as Carol enjoys fucking you with her equally massive strap-on, nothing quite compares to carefully pushing another finger into you, feeling your walls clench and pulse around her.

It also makes it easier to know when you’re about to cum, so she can pull away from you and laugh at how you whine and cry, “Carol, please, let me cum.”

“C’mon, little one,” Carol hums, carefully stroking your body, leaving trails of your own wetness across your stomach. She loves you like this, bringing you to edge over and over again, taking time in between to run her hands over your soft curves. It was so different from her own hardened-by-battle body, she couldn’t help but be enamored with you. “You can take one more, can’t you?”

“Maybe,” you pout. “But I need to cum.”

“Need to, eh?” Carol laughs, kissing your sweat-soaked forehead. You nod and pull her down for a kiss. You can feel her chuckle into your mouth at your neediness, and she eagerly swallows your moans as she pushes her fingers into you again, thrusting hard and fast so that you’re almost immediately on edge again. To your delight, as she pulls away from the kiss, Carol mutters, “Cum for me, little one.”

Her words send you tumbling over the edge, clenching around her fingers and shuddering with your release. Carol doesn’t stop fucking you, curling her fingers hard against your g-spot and whispering encouragement into your ear.

“You said you needed to cum, didn’t you? Too much for you now, sweet little thing?”

Your second orgasm hits you hard, and you almost cry at how sensitive your poor pussy is. Carol doesn’t take mercy on you, still fucking you just as hard and fast and before you’ve even processed your second, your third hits you.

With this one, you feel a gush of wetness from between your legs, and if you were more aware you’d be impressed with how much you squirted for Carol. She seems satisfied as well, finally bringing you down slowly from your high.

“Good pet. So good for me.” You pant with exhaustion, watching Carol bring her fingers to her mouth and moan at the taste of your juices. “Maybe my friends were right about wanting to devour you. You are delicious.”

“Do you have to make that joke every time?”

“No, but I do anyway because it makes you laugh.”

“Shut up, meathead.”

[pa1nkill3r]

"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

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The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

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She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

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A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

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Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

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Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

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George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

[itsthe-neo-zone]

[03:18PM] ~ Park Jongseong x Reader, Apocalypse au

You didn’t want to live with the misery of regretting everything.

But that all went out the window as soon as the apocalypse began.

2 weeks, it’s been 13 whole days and 12 nights since the whole world decided to end itself.

The reason? An outbreak, a malicious deadly disease terraforming the earth in its own way. Killing everyone and everything with it. And when you say terraforming you mean turning us all against each other.

You regretted waking up that Wednesday morning, regretted getting out of bed, not hugging your mother in your arms longer and giving your family a proper farewell.

You were in school when it happened your district sounding the sirens, mid-week morning meaning you were in the dinner halls, you heard the sirens and all hell broke loose, the diners small tv monitor picked up an emergency broadcast.

Shaking your head subconsciously you drifted your mind away from what happened. It had been difficult thinking the past few days, even eating was becoming a luxury at times.

Like now, you’ve been wandering empty suburb streets looking for something to sustain yourself, where you were looked to be like a neighbouring district, but you weren’t sure, the sign posts were all ripped down to make any form of defence weapon, supplies were scarce at this point.

The scent on you was horrid but not as putrid as the stench of rotting corpses filing the earth. You stopped turning to look around you. The street was dusted with ruined houses all damaged and crumbled to the grounds.

Maybe you could crash into an abandoned one, maybe there was food and maybe you’d finally be able to use an actual bathroom. Your stomach grumbled with delight at the thought of food.

As you were about to pull the rusting metal rod in your hand towards the nearest property you heard a shrieking ear deafening pop,

The blood hit your brain, adrenaline began quickly building up inside you, like a band slowly stretching about to snap, your heart rattling in your chest. It tightened slightly. You swayed slightly from the shock of adrenaline hitting your numb body.

You swiftly turned to see nothing behind you but a pelleted bullet, someone around you had a weapon, and their target? You.

You began seeing the blurred edges of your sight return a sign to take response. Fight or flight. You chose the latter feeling weaker than expected. Heading outwards past the last few properties your best hope was to lose your hunter out in the wilderness.

Brushing past leaves twigs and the thicket of the edges of the lush greenery you low down once you’re no longer hearing bullets trailing after you. It was quiet

Almost too quiet to be normal. You push yourself up against a tree, straining your breath to regulate faster than it should. You regretted being stupid to do that too as you felt the persisting tickle at the back of your throat.

It let a much needed cough to begin crawling up your oesophagus. Shutting your eyes for a moment you stiffened your lips slightly holding it back. Why now of all times, you’d been surviving fine…

You could hear a slight crunch of foliage under careful feet, slowly creeping up on you.

You’d be done for this time if they did have a weapon. Trembling fingers dug into the metallic rod in your palms, they’d make indents from how hard you were gripping.

Feeling your chest tighten a little. The metal was starting to feel slippery in between clammy fingers but you held it to your face keeping your stance ready.

You were scared, no, terrified even. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up so easily. You wanted to survive, you had to.

Ironic.

A few weeks you were ready to give up on life itself.

As you sighed, you prepared to turn and show yourself but as you made a move you felt something restrict your breath and pull you away from the edge of the tree. You didn’t have your hand on your mouth though.

It was a foreign feeling but it was something you greeted with open arms, it was warm, and you forgot the caress of another on your cold stiff body.

Caress of another? It wasn’t my hands.

Gunshots sounded across the clearing you hid from. Disturbing screeches of birds fleeted from above. A harsh thump fell to the floor. A limp body.

But it wasn’t yours. You still had a chance.

Eyes widening, you registered the figure behind you keeping you hold in a strong grip.

The surging boost of energy you had left pushed you to kick with your feet. Backwards tripping up your attacker. The gunshots stopped but you were sure it was them, not just one but 2, maybe more…

The figure fell back unable to balance themselves but you were pulled back, you pushed yourself out of their hold, they pulled away regained their stance before attacking you from your side,

the male twisted his arm around your head and the other at your waist holding your arms down. He was agile and had strength but you managed to be faster. Quickly thinking, you moved.

Digging your elbow into their side hitting them right beneath their rib cage.

Bingo,

you heard a slight grunt they pushed away from you trying to recover.

You turned grabbing the rod, eyes shaking to survey the sight before you. It was just one, you swing your arms back getting ready to attack.

“Stop!” A strained call out towards your direction, but you faltered, it wasn’t for you? He directed it behind you falling back slightly. You turned to see another male.

Eyes trained like he was about to pounce on his prey. What was more horrifying was the gun now in his hold pointed directly at you.

“Don’t, Jake, she’s harmless.”

His arms stayed firmly ahead of him holding the weapon. “Harmless my ass, you were about to lose your head,” his fingers wavered.

“Just listen to me.” The guy stood up. You noticed the tattered and beaten up clothes they wore, rips and smears all over each article. Dried blood splattered across parts of their body. Judging by the colour it wasn’t from today.  

The combat boots the two wore made you think twice about setting down your weapon as you remained in your stance.

But their eyes and faces showed different,

They were anxious, in pain, alert like you.

“Idiot.” He dropped his arms. Mumbling before walking towards the other who was now slowly guiding himself down by supporting himself on the tree.

His face was etched with strain. And for a second you felt a pang of regret. You shrugged the feeling away watching the two converse.

“Are you survivors?” you swayed slightly, pressing forward kept your feet stable you regrated the shakiness your voice had, first people you spoke to in a while and you sound like you were about to cry.

“Just barely,” one huffed, “As I said he was about to lose his head.” The one named Jake turned from tending to his friend and shot you a dirty glare.

Jakes eyes were intense and focused, he didn’t flit nor shy away. Pressing further. You subconsciously step back, eyes looking past him and towards his friend.

“I had to protect myself.” You pull your arms downwards stepping out of the position and lowering your guard slightly.

“Mhm, sure.” He muttered. He turned back lifting the others shirt. A long tear in the seamless skin ran down the males side. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like it was an old scar. Just barely healed.

“You’re, fine,”

“She had, shit, every right to do that.” The other caught his breath then spoke.

“Right.” Jake pressed his lips into a thin line. It looked like he wasn’t having any of that, his jaw clenched, he was stopping himself from speaking any further.

Standing up and walking past you. He glanced at you up and down before moving back to the clearing.

“Sorry about that,” the boy sitting at the bottom of the tree pushed himself to try getting to his feet, you stared cautiously your fingers tingling to help him, so now you were starting to get your humanity back? Where was this feeling a few days ago?

The fliting sound of slipping feet against the rough terrain is what brought your focus back as you moved to assist him. He groaned.

His eyes caught yours, cautious and foreign, was this just the way he looked at people him or was he anxious to be around you.  

“I’ll … uh.” Your hand waivered, before holding his free arm. “I’ll help you.”

“Um… Thanks.” He nodded clenching his jaw he pushed himself up with your help.

“I’m jay.” His lips pressed into a thin line the edges pushing upwards slightly as he nodded, he stayed silent for a second. You figured out this was an introduction a few seconds late, sucking in a quick breath you mumbled.

“Ah i- yeah…. I’m _____ .” your face tensed up. Jay flashed you a lopsided smile.

“Sorry about earlier, I had to make sure you didn’t interfere while Jake finished up with—uh…”

“Were you the—” you paused. How were you going to ask him if he was the one that was chasing you. How do you word that without sounding weird. “the… I was—”

“You mean the gunshots?” he mumbled.

You quickly nodded giving yourself a mini headache at the fast movement.

“No, we were… in the distance, yeah, when we heard the sound. Just me and Jake.” He lead you to the clearing.

You were slowly introduced into the new space, you watched Jake push the body dressed in black to the side. There was someone following you his face hidden beneath the mask.

“Found all this.” He kicked at the floor with his foot. “shit thing is he’s probably a trained assassin.” He nodded towards the pile of weaponry. “All in his bag, some on him,”

Jake stood up facing Jay. “We need to fucking leave, where there’s one there’s always more.” He lifted a few small items. Something that looked like a smaller loaded gun, testing its scope he tucked it into his pocket.

“Here, take that.” He threw a shielded knife at jay and grabbed a larger gun and handed it to the male next to you.

“lets go.” He walked past Jay and farther out.

As Jay turned he caught your eyes, he saw the anxious glimmer, the shiver you tried to hid and the fact that your fingers were digging in to your palm.

“Our chances of survival are bigger…” he stated. It cut you out of the worry trail your brain was starting to follow,

“Together than apart.”

You caught his eyes. Jay was trying to be as friendly as he could, you could see a glimmer of hope, something you lost within the first 3 days.

“Are you-, I’m sorry I’m a bit confused right— shit, I’ll just ask… are you asking me to…”

“You should come with us.” You silently thanked him for putting you out of your misery. Shocked he was asking you this. And relieved to have met people you could somewhat trust.

“What?”

“HEY! Hurry up if you want to fucking live dude!” Jake was already way ahead.

“Gimme a second!” he sighed, calling out.  

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us. That is if you’re not with anyone right now.”

You could almost cry from the surge of relief you felt. It was almost draining the life out of you fending for yourself. And night-time was when it got its worst alone. No more going crazy talking to yourself.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You voiced out, he smirked, hearing your voice so relieved.

“Glad to hear.” He nodded towards the direction they were headed. Leading you further ahead.

“Do you know how to wield a gun?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll teach you don’t worry.”

~~~

(thinking of truning this idea into a fic what do you think?)

Seola - It’s the neo zone © All rights reserved.

[urstruly-ghst]

Hi, I saw that you had the applications open and I was wondering if you could do a vice-leaders scenario (minus Ortho) with a dear woman. Where they become women, and show it to their beloved suffers a bisexual crisis. You can ignore this if you want.

NOTE : this req was long ago, so im really sorry anon. on that note, this would be more hcs and a short scenario. !! assuming this is an alchemy accident !!

trey clover

Assuming this incident was harmless, even Crewel told the students affected, Trey wouldn't break sweat.

Crewel stated that the effects may just last a day, or even a few hours, it depends.

However he, rather she, was nervous on approaching several people, that includes his dear S/O.

Not as if he was shy or scared you'd reject his new body, but he felt a little embarrassed that you're seeing a new side of him.

He fears that you might not like his appearance anymore, that the charm he had as a male diminished when he turned female.

He brought up his concerns to Riddle and his friend was quick to understand.

Trey and Riddle were quick to develop a schedule to avoid exposure of his alchemy accident.

He has troubles in composing his usual tasks with the... lump in front of his chest. He finds it bizarre how it was bouncing at almost every move, its quite the pain.

Trey noted that he felt uncomfortable for some reason, the prying eyes the other students had when Trey and the rest walked down the hall was tedious.

Seeing you doing the same, made it less uncomfortable, but albeit still uncomfortable.

You blabbered on how you were sorry, how you shouldn't be eyeing Trey in such manner, but for Trey to be incredibly attractive in BOTH gender really got your feelings in a mix!

----

"Trey! I'm sorry for barging in, but are you okay?? I heard an acci—", you frantically said while opening the door your as you barged into a designated place that Riddle assigned for Trey's recovery. You assumed the worst, a broken arm, a third degree burn! All of the horrid things, not... a hot lady.

"Oh! Sugar, hello there", the lady said while scratching a part of her cheek sheepishly. She looked like Trey, her mannerisms were Trey's, and her eyes! Those sly eyes and love filled eyes, it was Trey's! But how???

"UHM.. hi?? Oh my", whoever you were talking to even had the sweet velvety tone Trey had. Were they related?? While you struggled to figure it out, Trey giggled before introducing himself, to you, as a girl.

"Trey? You're gorgeous! Like drop dead! And I am really attracted, not that I wasn't attracted to you as a male.. but! You and... And!!", You panicked as much, your blush not helping with the heat you felt in the room.

"Oh dear, I'm fine, but..", Trey let his sentence wonder off with the wind as you try to compose yourself. He cant help but chuckle as you are so cute.

"But you could tone down the expression, it's shocking. Appreciate your compliments, though, but clearly you forget who's the prettiest and drop dead gorgeous between us two~"

"Trey! Stop the teasing I'm panicking here!"

ruggie bucchi

Sadly, he got the wrong potion by mistake because of his hectic mind. He was scheduling some big gimmick, which made him drop the wrong potion in the pot.

He wasn't much affected, he had sisters, he is a hyena, making him very used to female features.. and females overall.

Though he didn't appreciate the men's eyes on him, he was nonchalant to it all, he still has a job to do!

He only realized the disadvantages of being one girl is the fact people try to score when he does his work!

Overall, he was flexible even with the gender swap. What he didn't expect from this incident was you.

He assumed you'd be fine with the form, you said you'd accept him no matter what, but he couldn't help but laugh at the flustered face you had.

He wasn't really endowed with the bigger bust, but the small but noticable bump on his chest was more than enough to get you riled up.

----

"Shishishishi! Neko-chan, you're heating up we so much!", Ruggie teased while he purposely hugged your arms while also rubbing it in.

"Ruggie! Its not a laughing matter!", You tried to defend yourself, the heat on your face spreading wildly as he continued to nuzzle his face onto your neck. He was sucking up the flustered gestures you had, as you seemed more flustered and engaged the moment he had a gender swap!

"Awe, you're so cuteee~ I begin to wonder if you don't like me as a man", he pouts as he forcefully put his ears down to make it seem believable. You, in turn, panicked while blabbering about how it isn't true. That you love him as both genders, but your feelings are in such a mess because you didn't know you could be attracted to BOTH.

jade leech

He found this incident quite the anomaly, and decided to experiment on the way how his life would change.

Unlike Trey, he notified Azul about the changes but wishes to exploit the opportunity.

A little bird told him that female servers attract more customers, so he and Azul devised a plan to milk out the opportunity of such.

Jade, even as a female, was domineering in every sense. The style and manners were still present, and the strength was still there.

He found it bothersome with the bust, due to his tall structure, his bust size is quite big.

The bust made him get a back ache once in a while, and the fact they just spilled out everywhere was a hindering feat.

In terms of meeting his S/O, he was excited! He wants to see their expression and possibly play with them, with a good hearty laugh.

He didn't expect your reaction of toppling over, but he welcomed it. After all, you are his S/O, and he loves every reaction he gets from you.

Jade would be teasing you, and he has some plans on what to do with you, in this form.

----

"My, my, sweet angel, what has gotten you into this twist?", Jade purred into your ear while you babbled on how you should get going.

You were visiting the lounge just to see if Jade was affected, and you didn't expect a seductive lady purring to you and how that lady was your Jade!

Jade welcomed you, while serving you the usual in style, but you couldn't help but trail your eyes on Jade's lingering touches, and soft voice.

You were melting as how incredibly attractive Jade is, even as a female, he manages to seduce you in such ways. Honestly, you felt a bit iffy on how he can do that.

"Jade, what are you doing?", You whispered as out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jade having that look you know all too well. It made you hot and bothered, so you really hoped that this event won't make you melt more.

"Oya? It's nothing, just thinking on my certain plans~"

jamil viper

He wasn't having any of it. Jamil, though calm, wasn't calm at the sudden change!

It wasn't as if he hated that he was female, but he hated the changes and change of wardrobe for an entire day catered to fit his new form.

Though, he's nonchalant for the most part, he was easily annoyed at the people eyeing him. The side eyes are suddenly increasing, especially on his... Fairly round mounds of flesh on the chest.

Jamil would and feel calmer in your presence, you always accepted him, however he couldn't help but notice your flustered gestures.

He rose a brow on how you stammered, how you feel warm and how the sweat seemed to make you sticky??

Jamil soaks up the compliments like he usually does, and he (on this rare occurrence) teased you for that.

Jamil laughs, he is carefree with you, and this expression of yours makes his own predicament less bothersome, but a fun and a teasing opportunity.

----

"What happened to you?", Jamil deadpans at you while you fidget in your sit. It was so hot in his dorm, then your partner right now is extremely distracting!

The way how you panicked and rushed to Jamil's dorm, in hopes to know what happened in Crewel's class that supposedly was affecting a good portion of the school. So, while rushing in to the dorms, you didn't expect such incident to bring... A lady that makes your heart spin.

"Ah, its nothing! Nothing at all! Haha!", you mused while sinking down in the seat, feeling the heat produced from your own body, and the dorm's sun. Jamil was provoking emotions you never knew about!

"Keep fooling me, you're warm and you seem nervous. You haven't acted like this since, you usually act like this when you haven't confessed yet. What, you falling for me again?", Jamil smirked while he saw how you yelped at the statement. Ah, he caught you red handed.

"Oho? So what I said is true, huh?"

"JAMIL NO-- I MEAN YEA! BUT WAIT--!", you retaliate at the statement. While it was true, you don't want him to just repeat it! Agh! What a tease.

rook hunt

Oh! What a magnificent way to explore beauty! Rook was basically vibrating in excitement at the notion to be beautiful in another gender.

Vil sucked up the opportunity too, he got Rook into a makeover too, quite meticulous than before, but it was due to a change.

Rook, though liked the opportunity, he didn't like the breasts much. Most likely because how it was straining on his part to hunt. It caused some pain.

What excites Rook the most, was this new thing to brag about to you!! While he tends to bind his bust around to hunt, he frees his bind around you!

He basically suffocates you in such, he wants such praise onto him, even if this form isn't permanent.

----

"Mon Amour! What a magnifique day it is, no?", Rook said as you and him lounge in Pomefiore for some reason. Rook mentioned about Vil, but you didn't quite pay attention.

How could you?! Rook Hunt, ever the beauty in his male form, turned even more attractive as a female!

While you zone out, Rook cuddled into you, while you stiffened up, heat surging through as you feel the bust squishing against you.

Rook was leeching onto your attention as you fail to compose yourself. Vil was supposed to be here any minute now, what has gotten the Queen late?! It wasn't that you don't want to spend time with Rook, but your flustered mind can't keep up with this!!

Ahh!! Rook, curse you and your beauty!

"Rook...?", You peeped as Rook seemed to stare at you. He was observing you?? Before you get to question such, Rook stole a kiss and you exploded.

"Oho! Mon Amour, bashful as ever!"

lilia vanrouge

Lilia was dumbfounded at the accident, but he didn't notice much of a change, nor did he mind the change.

He found it quite the treat, after all, he didn't find anything wrong into the accident. It happens!

Lilia, though with the bust small, he finds it challenging to hang upside down like before.

He pouts at that too. But what he finds a silver lining in the situation, like how cute he can be with a feminine touch!

Or, how cute his s/o is with the blush and how they stammer out all the words that they wish they can say.

He teases them, flashing charming smiles and teasing smirks~

----

"Dear, how do you like my new dress~?", Lilia smiled as he twirled in his spot, holding up the fabrics of the dress. You have to admit, it was a nice dress.

But you can't admit it, when you are panicking about how your partner is now a female and how you're strangely attracted by that!!

"Dear?", Lilia suddenly appeared next to you, making you jump in place. You flared up, trying to fan yourself to calm down from the fluster.

"Ah! Lilia! Its nothing, ITS NOTHING!!", You said while flailing your arms as you start to fluster more with Lilia's smirk.

Why was he smirking? What is that old fae planning? While deep in thought, you failed to notice Lilia sneaking up behind you, wrapping his delicate arms around while nipping your neck!

"Wha-!!?", You froze, all the while Lilia laughing, enjoying the fact you are flustered by the bare minimum~

[haztory]

hi mcdonald’s can i get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nanami + “nice tits”

“Nice tits.” from my writing event that ends today! 

 warnings: adult language and sexual themes, but that’s about it!

a/n: 3k words all for sanju that probably strays from the prompts but its fine bc i love you biiiiitch. thanks to everyone that requested a prompt! they will be out momentarily!!

nanami kento x gn!reader

There’s a universal understanding amongst the adults in the general realm of well-formed maturity and a sense of responsibility that there is no situation to ever exist in which listening to Gojo Satoru’s advice is a viable option. 

Much less any advice about love.

“You know,” His voice sings to your left, interrupting the tranquil silence of your office by his surprise warping, “If you needed help in satisfying your urges, you only had to ask. Looking at porn during school hours is a bit of a cry for help, (Y/N).”

“Go away, Gojo.” You reply, hardly perturbed at his unannounced visit and continuing the matter at hand. Your index finger continues its motions, pushing the wheel of the mouse downwards and studying the plethora of Google Search images the float past your eyes on your computer monitor.

Gojo leans his elbow on your desk, perching himself on the left side of your body, “Hey, I don’t judge! I’ve done it once or twice myself. I just always pictured you as more of an ass-person.”

Landing on an appropriate image for your task you click it, enlarging it on your screen. Gojo whistles.

“Now that’s just obscene, isn’t it?”

A finger enters your line of sight, pointing itself obnoxiously at the screen, specifically at the rather large pectoral belonging to that of a male model. An image that is necessary for your study of a new cursed technique that you witnessed on your last excursion with Nobara, and not at all the focus of sexual release as Gojo might insist. Even if they are rather admirable in their size. 

You would rather die before ever telling him that, though.

“They should really put a warning on those honkers—”

“Is there a reason you’re bothering me?” You ask bluntly, printing the image and retrieving it from the printer tray beside you.

“I just wanted to see what my second favorite teacher was doing, but never did I think I would catch you in the act of making a shrine to tits, so—”

You roll your head to the left, meeting Gojo’s shit-eating grin with a deadpan stare. With a sigh, you shake your head, “I’m studying.”

Even beneath the blindfold, you can see the waggle in his brows as he props his head on the bent elbow. “Oh suuure.”

Huffing impatiently, you swivel your desk chair to face him, placing a singular finger on his chest to push him back from your immediate space. He only continues to grin in his usual unabashed manner, as though he’s caught you red-handed. It makes you roll your eyes once more.

 You didn’t need to explain yourself; it wasn’t like you were doing anything immoral. Sure, staring at a number of pectoral muscles might seem inappropriate to the passing eye, but it was easily explainable. 

But as it always is with Gojo, he manages to rub that small part of you that just has to fight back. Fuckin’ prick. “We came across a cursed technique two days ago that targeted the chest. It caused—”

Gojo waves his hand in your face, “Seismic tremors in the pectoral muscles that affected a cursed energy point, yeah, yeah. Nobara told me all about it.”

“If you knew what I was doing why are you making me sound like such a creep?!” You exclaim, kicking his chest with the heel of your shoe. He catches your foot with a laugh, dropping it and holding his index finger upward.

“Because it’s fun to tease you.”

Huffing, you turn back to your monitor and point at the door, “Leave.”

“Oh, come onnn,” He warps in front of your computer, leaning himself over the top of the screen, “I’ve brought you a little gift of knowledge to help your studying.”

Even as he desperately tries to insert his gangly arms into your line of vision, you continue typing into the search bar. Some variations of “pectoral”, “muscles”, and “large men”. For research purposes, of course.

“Oh yeah?” You ask noncommittally, knowing full well the manner in which Gojo dangles his plots of mischief disguised as help, “And what would that be?”

Smiling largely once more, he lets out a giggle, “The larger the muscle, the more potent the attack on the cursed energy.”

Sparing him a quick glance, you mumble, “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“No, but it does take a genius to figure out how to reverse the effects.”

He stops the statement there; grin audible in his words. After having spent years in the presence of the obnoxious Gojo Satoru, you already know there’s an ulterior motive to his words, something that is going to bite you in the ass rather aggressively.

And as much as you want to avoid being in the line of fire, especially the one directed by him, you’re simultaneously dying to know where this is going.

You hesitate to ask, but it comes out. Dripping in all of its cautiousness. “And?”

“And it also takes a willing participant to study.” His smile, in all impossibility, became even wider.

“I’m still not getting the picture.”

“A participant with rather large pectoral muscles.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Someone who would willingly participate for the sake of education.”

Of all the people to have figured out about your (not so) little crush on a fellow sorcerer, it had to be the world’s largest idiot and nuisance. You had to end this, now. Before he does something so irrevocably stupid— 

“Shall we go ask Nanami?”

And that’s how you find yourself flushed with absolute mortification, gripping your clipboard with tight knuckles against your chest, wondering how you ever managed to forget the utmost important rule when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

Never listen to him, especially on the matter of love. 

Maybe that’s indicative of the state of your crush as a whole, something you should probably pay more attention to, seeing as the minute Nanami Kento was mentioned, you’ve forgotten the extent of logic and reason and followed the whims of Gojo without hesitation. 

It’s problematic, horrifying, and ultimately a monumental issue at the moment considering your mouth is as dry as a desert and your brain absolute mush, rendering you completely unable to formulate any words.

“Wow, Nanami,” Gojo shamelessly says, one hand shoved in his pocket as he stands beside your frozen figure, “Nice tits.”

Nanami hums unenthusiastically, unbuttoning the last button on his blue shirt and elegantly removing it from his large, muscular frame. Folding it neatly on the expanse of the couch beside him, he turns his stoic gaze back to you, hardly even concerned about his half-nakedness. 

Whereas you felt yourself almost drooling at the revealed expanse of firm muscles peppered with sparse hair. The fact that it was that easy to get to see this, to almost be able to touch it— 

Maybe listening to Gojo isn’t a bad idea after all.

“Shall we begin?” Nanami asks, pulling his glasses off of his face with his (large) hands and folding them on top of his shirt. A strand of blond falls onto the front of his face and his gaze trails from the impassive stare at Gojo, to you. 

And by all that is sweet and holy you swear that you’ve ascended to an ethereal plane and before you sits an angel waiting to take you to the pearly gates. No longer stares a man unamused at the teasing of the white-headed idiot beside you, but instead a celestial being with a body made of pure stone and dare you say, looking at you with a tenderness in his gaze that was absent only a moment before.

An elbow digs into your side, pulling you rather dramatically out of your stupor and towards the smug grin of the man beside you. 

“Well?” Gojo asks, “If you’re not going to touch him, I will.”

“Thank you, Gojo, but I can take it from here,” You all but hiss, pushing him once more away from your body, accompanying the action with a pointed glare. Beginning a backward trek towards the door, he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I can see when I’m not wanted. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Opening the door and stepping out of it, he halts, turning his head to look over his shoulder and says, voice coated in that familiar tone of teasing, “Remember to use condoms, lovebirds!”

He shuts the door quickly, hardly giving you a chance to spear your ire at his retreating figure, but you have half a mind to chase him down the hall when you hear his echoing laughter ring out. 

An awkward silence settles between you and the man of your horrid fascination that not even an uncomfortable laugh can ease. Clearing your throat and trying to remember your sense of professionalism, you straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath, facing the handsome man with a confidence that was growing incredibly difficult to face. 

“I’m going to touch you. For research. Your chest, specifically.”

In a move you’ve never quite seen before, Nanami sheds that formidable air of quiet stoicism and lets a small smile grace the features of his face. It gently pushes against the corners of his mouth and his bare shoulders move the slightest bit with the exhalation of his amused breath. 

“For the tremors in the pectoralis.” He says, leaning his body to rest against the backing of the couch, straightening his legs wearing their usual tan slacks to rest naturally in the position and hands folding in his lap. 

You gulp. “Y-yes.”

“I read your report.”

“You did?”

“I always do,” With his eyes still trained upon yours you can see them widen a bit at the realization of what he’s said as if that were an intimate detail he hadn’t meant to make you aware of. He quickly brings his fist up to his mouth, clearing his throat, “You are one of the few sorcerers here that fill them out correctly. I learn a great deal from your detailing. It’s… very helpful. You’re very thorough.”

Blinking repeatedly, you only nod at the compliment. Despite wanting to combust internally at the growing flames that burn inside of you, you take a step forward. Then another until, in an unforeseen reversal of circumstances, you’re towering over the man of great strength and respect. The man you’ve admired for the longest time.

The man that continues to stare at you with a softness you’ve never seen him reveal before. 

You can see the spattering of freckles that have intricately placed themselves over his broad shoulders resembling that of an artistic constellation and the delicious protruding of his biceps, great in mass yet telling of his of strength as your try to conservatively trail your eyes over his torso.

He’s beautiful, incredibly so. Baring himself to you in this way only affirms that.

 “Thank you,” you breathe out, and it’s more intimate than you intended it to be, but truthfully, it’s as fitting a phrase as it can be considering the proximity and the intensity behind his stare.

It’s all you can give him without crumbling at his feet. Placing your fingertips against his shoulder, you gently push him back, silently instructing him to lay on the couch. He follows suit like the dutiful sorcerer he is.

“I’ll just be examining the way in which your cursed energy extends from your chest. It shouldn’t hurt, but if you feel uncomfortable, just let me know.”

He hums once more from his supine position on the couch. Despite being much larger than the couch allows, he hardly looks uncomfortable. Only watches the way in which you press your fingers into his chest, pushing into his muscle and slowly massaging your finger in a circle. You circle around the left side, trailing around the outer edge of the muscle and above the rib cage, stopping and pressing rather firmly when you feel a surge in an energy presence beneath the skin. Almost on the center of his chest.

You snort a quiet laugh when you realize where it is.

“Should I be worried?” His deep timbre vibrates your indented fingers drawing your focus to his interested stare. He looks relaxed, the usual crease between his brow hardly recognizable. A stark refute to the question he posed.

You quickly shake your head, smiling growing wryer, “No, not at all. I just… think it’s funny that your energy presence is strongest where your heart is.”

Nanami quirks an eyebrow, “Isn’t that the same for everyone?”

“Would it be much of a surprise if I told you Gojo’s comes from his mouth?”

Nanami rolls his head, a breathless laugh exhaling as he stares at the ceiling. “No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“Everyone has a different point from which their energy roots itself. Each one gives a different feeling of sorts. It doesn’t really mean much in terms of power and technique, but it is noticeable. You have an overwhelming presence as is, I just…” Your shoulders drop with a sigh, one stemming desperately from loving admiration and instead try to disguise as just an exhalation, “…never realized it came from there. Kind of fitting if you ask me.”

His brows furrow in contemplation, unsure if whether he could accept the statement. Unsure of whether it was a fitting examination or compliment for him. He must deem it something insignificant of his ponderance because he quickly moves on.

“And yours?” He asks, alight with curiosity, “Where does yours come from?”

You hum, grateful to finally shed the last remnants of awkwardness and engage in the usual friendly conversation you tend to have with him. The brief discussions that always prod a little too close for friendly discovery, but never breach the line of professional respect. That self-imposed limitation that you desperately wish he’ll cross, that this conversation is once again coming toward.

“Take a guess.” Allowing that lilting tease to infiltrate your words, you watch as Nanami adjusts himself on the couch. Bracing his arms against the cushion, he pushes himself into a sitting position and crosses his arms. Trailing his eyes over your seated body next to him, he leaves a burning trail in his wake.

He fixates on your face for a second and your breath hitches, before he travels downward over the column of your neck, then your chest, to your legs. Drinking you in as per your consent and request. Then, he extends his hand. Palm facing upwards in a silent request. You understand.

Placing your own hand in his, he turns your hand upward, allowing full access to the center of your hand and tracing his finger over the lines.

“Your hands. That’s your center.” He says with finality, monotonous but confident. With a small smirk, he looks up at you, “You are a healer after all.”

You give a small nod, “I’m not sure if it comes from my fingertips or my palm, but yeah. My hands.”

Looking back down at your hand in his, he traces the finger in a circle, “Palm. That’s where I feel it the most.”

“What does it feel like?” You ask with a laugh, expecting something asinine and noncommittal considering Yuuji once said your presence felt like a cool wind on a summer’s day and Nobara insists that it feels like a warm shower.

Two entirely opposite feelings, yet somehow categorized in the schema of comfort. You hardly expect Nanami to give something so introspective, nor anything that reveals too much considering the extent to which he tends to maintain the boundary of respect in the conversations of explorations. The kind in which two people teeter on the thin ice of interest, yet never voice it.

And yet, his eyes connect with yours again, and it's entirely too overwhelming for you to process. Too interested, too warm. His face betrays no nervousness nor any hesitation as he stares, entirely convinced that this is what was meant to happen. As though he knew from the moment Gojo asked that it was going to unfold this way.

Like he prepared for it. Like he decided today was the day that he crossed that line.

“Home. Warm and comforting.”

Slow heat the creeps its way up your spine that makes your brain halt thought altogether and sputter intelligently, “Gojo’s kind of feels like… tar. Thick tar. Super gross.”

His hand, large and warm, encompasses your hand once more, lays it flat against his chest to feel both his exuding energy and the steady beat of his formidable heart.

“And mine?” He asks, low and gravelly. Like sweet honey that has you captured entirely, unable to escape. Not like you want to. No, you’d rather drown in this overwhelming redolence than ever live without it.

You don’t even realize your breathing heavily, nor that his face has gotten closer to yours. When did he move there? Did you move there?

Either way, his face is in front of yours, noses almost touching and the compulsion to answer him on the tip of your tongue.

“Addicting,” you whisper.

And then his lips are on yours, molding sweetly into you, and it's everything you have ever imagined it to be. Slow, yet firm. Warm and craving, and you can only fight for more, more, more.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you in impossibly closer and you place your hands on his bare chest, the great reason as to your current predicament entirely, to steady yourself and your erratic heartbeat. Time seems to slow in the passion of his kiss, and yet when he parts for air, you feel as though you only had him for a second.

All the months of pining could barely make up for that singular moment.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” He says, leaning his forehead against yours, breath fanning over your aching lips. You scoff in laughter, meeting his smile with one of your own.

So, maybe, just maybe, listening to Gojo wasn’t a bad idea. And maybe, sometimes, he’s right about some things.

“Hey Kento?”

“Yes?”

“You really do have nice tits.”

“Likewise.”

[thekillingjoke-haha]

YOU ARE WERE MINE

Summary: Sacrifices are often made for the ones we love....even if it might hurt.

Parings: Sam Winchester x Male!Reader, Hinted at Male!reader x John Winchester, and Sam Winchester x Unmentioned girls

Warning?: Bi Sam ,Dean still flirting with reader, No jess death for M/n, Reader is a hunter...and never told Sam, Yellow-eyes, mention(hint at) smut

Sam looked up at M/n with a smile he wore a sexy fireman outfit for the bar outing the yellow shirt looked like it was going to rip if the surprisingly taller male flexed a little too much the red suspenders held up loss fitting brown pants and a axe that leaned on the door frame. "Come on Babe dress up a little." He said tightening the suspenders straps.

"You know I don't like Halloween." Sam sighed as his boyfriend came up to him kissing his cheek with a mischievous smirk. "Too bad guess I can't give you your treat." The h/c man growled nipping his ear as he walked out of their shared bedroom. With a fake pout he chased after him. "If I put on a Halloween shirt will it pass?" He said hopefully putting his arms over M/n shoulder causing him to put his hands on his hips. "Hmmm....If I get to pick the shirt." Sam chuckled and nodded. He'll soon regret that.

Luis was loosing his shit laughing at the shit while M/n smiled proudly at what his boyfriend was wearing it was a plain dark gray t-shirt with the words 'Just the tip. I Promise.' And a knife. "This has to be your best work, N/n." Stephan, M/n best friend, said dressed as a cop high fives the awaiting hand.

M/n gave Sammy a small grin and winked causing him to blush slightly. It was time to celebrate with friends Sam's accomplishment he can wait later to celebrate with Sam his own way.

(Time skip past smexy times~might do it later)

M/n woke up in a empty bed to the sound of a fight he quickly got up in only his boxers to see what was wrong. He knew it was human since he had symbols all under wall paper and floor boards. Turning on the lights he sees Sam and a shorter man next to him "Sammy?" He said causing both of them to look over maybe he should have put on pants eyes raked down his form. "Woah. Hi I'm Dean Rapunzel's older brother. You must be his roommate..." The green eyed man bit his lip looking down south of the s/c man before him. "...I just love Scooby-Doo.~" Dean said keeping his gaze on the mystery machine briefs M/n was wearing. Sam quickly got between both of them pushing his brother back. "Dean this N/n my boyfriend" A confused look crossed his face. "Where's Jess you girlfriend?" He asked. "She was my roommate graduated a year ago and M/n moved in."

Dean looked back at M/n the flirtatious smirk back on his face. "You're way out of my brothers league." Sam put a around his boyfriends waist pulling him close. "Why are you here Dean?" There was a pause of silence. "Dad hasn't been home in a few days." The blonde said before it was shot down. "Let me rephrase. Dad's on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days." With that Sam tensed up and looked over to M/n. "I'll be right back." His tone rushed as he peeked him in the cheek and left their shared apartment brother in tow.

Once the sound of their foot steps were heard going down the stairs M/n sighed his hand running through his bed head. "Fucking Winchester’s." He mumbled before going back up stairs going to his old room. M/n went to the closet moving boxes out of the way till he got to the duffel bag he was looking for. A burner phone weighed heavy in his hand as he wandered back to bed. "If he goes I go." He mumbled to himself looking at the mirror on the nightstand. M/n has been off and on with hunting ever since he started dating Sam and he knew who he was the moment his last name left his lips, but he only put on a smile and gave him his first and middle name since L/n were famous in the community.

Sam came back to the apartment and started to pack a bag. "Sam what's going on?" M/n said innocently as he watched more of his boyfriends clothes fill the bag. "Just going to help look for Dad. Probably just went out with a old friend and didn't bother to pick up." Sam zipped up the bag as he threw it over his shoulder. "You know what's Monday right?! You can't just not show up it's your dream on the line, Babe!" M/n stepped forward slowing down the rushed pace. "I know...you're right and I'll be back on Monday." We walked out of the building. "Promise to call me when you get there." The h/c man said hugging the long haired brunette close. "I promise." With a final kiss goodbye M/n waved him off before going inside. Time to jump back into the L/n family business. Pulling out the burner it rung as the first number was dialed. "I don't give a damn of you are the IRS or girl scouts selling fucking cookies it's one am you idjit!" The familiar voice rung out. "Good talking to you to Uncle Bobby." M/n chuckled and the older man's breath caught in his throat. "Well I'll be damned do my ears deceive me or is that little F/n all grown up?"

"Glad you didn't trash this number."

"What are you calling for boy its still 1am?" Bobby asked.

" I need to pick up my truck. I'm going hunting."

~~~~Time Skip~~~~

Sam sat in the motel room trying to call M/n, but he didn't pick up. If only he knew that right at that moment he was beheading a vampire while laughing like a sadistic prick. After cleaning the blood off and burning the barn that held the nest M/n tried calling back when it picked up he heard Sam's distressed voice. "M/n now is not a good time. I'm so cold hold me" A voice spoke over Sam's. "Who the hell was that?!" I heard a loud hissing noise. "Sam!" That's when a shotgun went off, glass shattered, and the lime went dead. M/n stood up and paced un his room it would be late before he got home he'll have to hall ass to get there before Sam.

Going out to the truck he opened the bed lifting the metal cover and false bottom loading the weapons. He had no time to drop it back off. The road was silent till a voice interrupted it. "Hello, handsome. What's the rush?" Almost swerving into a ditch M/n looked over and saw a man with graying blonde hair. Reaching for a weapon the man's eyes flashed yellow gazing at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He snapped causing the h/c make to look straight and push hard into his seat. "You're the little Winchester’s boy toy. Well in two hours he'll be home and dead by the time you arrive." M/n's breath caught in his throat. "Liar. I'm not stupid every hunter has heard what happened to Mary it doesn't take a genius to see they weren't the only one's. You need him alive and well, so why are you hear?" He growled low in his throat as the demon chuckled. "Got me there. You see Sammy boy needs to get back in the life and you being, I don't know, alive is getting in the way." The pressure grew stronger on the restrained man's chest till he almost could feel his lungs squeeze. "But I'm a business man. You work for me you live and maybe see Sam again or die in a blaze and the last thing he sees is your burning corpse. Can't be a protective boyfriend if your dead."

"What will happen to me if I agree?" That's when a sick smile pulled on his lips. "You become a demon. No a demon doesn't possess you! You yourself become one you memories and personality intact. So deal?" He held his hand out to the s/c man as he sighed taking his eyes from the road. "Deal." The demons yellows eyes shined bright as he yanked the young man forward pressing their lips together sealing it. "You are mine." He growled possessively as M/n pulled out his phone and dialed Sam's number. It went to voice mail. "Hey Rapunzel. I want you to know...I love you. Hold on to that, never let that go. You mean the world to me...so once you figure out how to open you voice mail this is waiting for you."

Sam woke up from his nightmare of his burning apartment building. It been almost three years since then and he never gotten over it. It took a year to get to his messages and what M/ n left behind gave him more questions then answers. He couldn't even get into the apartment before the flames erupted. Sam had doubts about M/n in the fire, but after the police report was released only one casualty of M/n Middle/n. Dean tried to tell my it would at some point get better, but the guilt still felt heavy in his chest. Nightmares of M/n in the fire not in pain, but seeming to absorb the flames made him question what really happened. The brothers had a lead on yellow eyes that their dad led them to. It all seemed to convenient that after the fight he knew to much about the demon that pledged his nightmares. The warehouse was falling apart it was in shambles as Dean parked baby next to it. "Are you sure this is the place?" Sam asked his brother. "Dad said this was it. Load up." Dean got out the car popping the trunk. This didn't feel right.

Tied up, beaten, and tortured. The Winchesters look up at their own fathers face with those horrid yellow eyes. "You boys never questioned a thing didn't even hesitate to come inside!" He chuckled darkly as the surrounding demons grinned. "This would have been the part where I laugh at you kill you dragging your sorry souls to hell to be my toys for the next millennium, but I have something better!" Signature Winchester grin lifted his lips as he called out seeming to no one. "Oh, honey bear! Come say hi." The sound of a strong gust of wind came from behind them as the clack of well made dress shoes hit the shifty floor boards. A man wearing black dress pants, shoes, and a open f/c(not black) silk button up. His back was to the brothers as John lifted his head up to kiss the man's cheek. Turning around white eyes looked at them, but that face was unmistakably M/n's a scar on his brow but it was him. Sam was chocked up M/n was in front of him looking well and oh God he's with enemy that took their dad's body as a meat suit.

"Do you like him, Sammy? Hells best torturer!" John said running his hands over M/n as the man kept his gaze locked on the tallest Winchester analyzing him as he seethed with anger at the demon touched his boyfriend. "Oh the things he's done would make Lucifer blush." Yellow-eyes trailed his hand down the scarred chest biting his lip making Sam struggle more. Snapping his fingers the other demons took Dean, but Sam was left there. "You're not useful to me dead Sammy boi." The demon circled him. "What's the best kind of torture, love?" M/n seemed to move for the first time getting right in front of Sam dropping to his knees being face to face with him. Cupping the beaten cheek of the hunter in his s/c hand his white clouded orbs turned the lively e/c giving a sympathetic look before it switched off. "Physiological." Sam didn't notice the room shifted into their old apartment tears pooled in those e/c eyes. "Where were Sammy?" A hiccup in between silent cries ended the sentence as a scene played out of M/n on the phone trying to talk to Sam before it cut off. "I needed you!" A scene of M/n chained to a wall seeing figures of his past hurt him till he gave in. "You were mine. And you threw it all away, threw me away like garbage!" The images went to Sam being with girls, but he could see familiar h/c hair in the background.

Tears rolled down Sam's face as white eyes filled his vision the eyes he loved fading away. What felt like hours happened in only a few seconds and within those seconds Sam was broken. He buried his face into the palm still cupping his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!' Sam would do anything for his M/n back even if it meant killing the monster his father has become. A gentle kiss stopped the trail of tears. "You are mine."

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Quote= I love you. Hold on to that, never let that go. -The Vampire Diaries

Tagged: @spnquotebingo

First male reader it was fun.

[cloudywriter]

the lost princess of terrasen

rowaelin month - september 7th 

prompt: fairytale au - (an anastasia au in this case)

important: okay y’all so i went way overboard with this entire au and it got out of hand so now this might just be a full-blown thing. however, with that whole releation and me going crazy with outlining and writing i could really only have this much of the story out and ready for today but i plan on continuing it!! hopefully after rowaelin month. enjoy this little introduction :)

(cw: brief descriptions of violence) 

masterlist, AO3

~~~

At freshly 18, Celaena Sardothien was free. She’d aged out of the orphanage and was finally released to go live her own life, no longer held down in the outskirts of Rifthold. Celaena didn’t want to wait a second longer, the need to leave the horrid place she’d lived the last ten years was ingrained in her bones. 

The woman who ran the orphanage, Clarisse, was cruel. From a young age, she poked at Celaena, commenting constantly on her weight or how she didn’t act like a proper young lady. Her entire life up until this point was spent at the mercy of Clarisse and her stern ways. All the girls in the orphanage were treated as maids and dolls for Clarisse to manipulate. But, Celaena made it, counting down the days until her birthday. 

Now, here she was, stuck out in the cold. She’d imagined her freedom to be more alluring than this instead she was shaking as she wandered through side streets that led to the heart of Rifthold. She carried with her a backpack barely full of her meager belongings and the too-thin coat on her back. Clarisse didn’t even spare her a hat to keep out the cold so she moved her hair to shield her freezing ears the best she could and waddled along the snowy pavement. 

She still had her kingsflame necklace around her neck, though, and that’s all that mattered. Where she had gotten it from she hadn’t a clue. The first memory she possessed was waking up in the very orphanage that would become her prison. Clarisse explained to her that she’d hit her head and a nice man named Arobynn had brought Celaena to Clarisse to be cared for. Clarisse questioned her about her family and upbringing relentlessly but Celaena could not recall a thing. Her mind was blank. For many nights as a young girl, she’d sit upright in the creaky, lumpy bed she occupied and willed herself to remember. She’d cry and scream, banging her fists into her head in frustration when nothing ever surfaced. 

The only connection she had to whatever life she lived before was her kingsflame necklace. And she’d follow that kingsflame to the ends of the continent if it meant she’d one day solve the mystery of her existence. 

Which led her to the first stop on her journey of discovery, Terrasen. Once Celaena had accepted that her memories weren’t coming back and this was the life she’d have to lead she adjusted. She served Clarisse and went to the small, dilapidated school down the street with the other orphans. There she discovered her love of books and the meager library the school offered became her sanctuary. It was there while she read a book on the kingdoms on Erilea, hoping something would strike her familiar she learned that kingsflame flowers only bloomed in one place, the capital of Terrasen, Orynth. 

As a child that discovery was a revelation. Terrasen. Maybe she was from Terrasen. 

As Celaena walked she felt her toes growing increasingly numb, Adarlan’s winters were bitter and she was not equipped with the proper wear. Her teeth chattered but she pushed forward, she needed to get passage to Terrasen. 

She drew the map out of the pocket of her coat once again and checked the status of her journey. Only a little longer until she was at Rifthold’s main dock station. 

The city of Rifthold was big and Celaena felt out of her depth as groups of people swarmed the streets walking to and from their different destinations. It was overwhelming, the smells, the tall buildings, the weather, the noise, the sheer number of people, everything. 

Eventually, she saw the lights of the station and she blew a sigh of relief, she hadn’t been very confident in her ability to read a map. She approached a man sitting in a booth behind a sheet of glass, smoking a cigarette. 

Celaena stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello, sir, I’d like to buy a ticket to Orynth,” she gave him a smirk, leaning casually on the box. She’d learned from many years of coexisting with Clarisse and a revolving door of people that to make it through life you needed a mask. Celaena had crafted her mask carefully and had perfected her act after so many years. She exuded arrogance and confidence so that another soul would never see the scared, lost little girl she truly was. 

The man grunted, blowing a puff of smoke from between his cracked lips. “Do you have your papers, girl?”

Her brain stalled. Papers? She cleared her throat, “papers?”

“Yes,” his scratchy voice replied, “you need papers to cross the border.” 

Celaena’s heart sank but she kept her expression neutral. “Well, I-”

“Listen, girl, I’m not going to sit here and waste your time so don’t sit here and waste mine. If you don’t have the right documents then I can’t sell you a ticket, simple as that,” he held the cigarette between his teeth. 

She searched for some way to turn this situation around, chewing on her bottom lip. 

From the shadows a little ways into the dark alley adjacent to the docks, she heard a hissed whisper. “You, blondie,” an old woman emerged slightly from the shadows, beckoning Celaena forward with her index finger.  

Celaena looked around, the man in the booth was already back to ignoring her, his nose stuck in a newspaper so she decided to approach the woman. She didn’t have much to lose and Celaena thought if it went south she could take her. 

Celaena crept closer, tightening her grip on the strap of her backpack. 

“You need papers?” Her voice was hoarse as if her throat was made of sandpaper. Celaena nodded her head keeping her guard up, watching her surroundings out of her peripheral. 

“I know who can get you some,” her face morphed into a slight smile that unsettled Celaena more than anything. Celaena furrowed her brows, “who?” The woman tsked at her, her hot breath forming a cloud in front of her face. 

“That kind of information isn’t free, my dear.” Celaena had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, everything came with a price in this world. 

Celaena reached around to the side pocket of her backpack, fishing out a few coins she had to spare. She’d saved just enough from doing odd jobs to pay her fare to Terrasen. She deposited the coins into the palm of the old woman’s hand, her knobby fingers running along their smooth edges. 

“Go a few streets north and into the red brick warehouse with the large windows, you can’t miss it. Ask for a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn, he’ll get you the papers,” she instructed, hoarding the scant sum of money she was given as though they were priceless heirlooms. Celaena turned her head in the direction the woman directed as if she could spot the warehouse from here and by the time she rounded back the woman had disappeared once again. 

Celaena huffed and shot another glance at the ticket man, he was still paying no attention, tapping his cigarette out with his finger. She didn’t necessarily want to go on a wild goose chase to obtain these papers but she had no other way of getting them so she breathed deeply and shoved her hands into her pockets and twisted north. 

The woman was right about not being able to miss the warehouse. It was a large, old, imposing structure, clearly, it had not been in use for some time now. Celaena crept closer peering into the foggy windows as she passed the front of the building. She couldn’t see anything and was unconvinced she’d find the elusive ‘Rowan Whitethorn’ inside. 

Nonetheless, she approached a rusting metal door on the side and pushed it open with her gloved hand. The door protested but it miraculously opened revealing a wide area stacked high with boxes along the walls and corners.

She ventured further into the space, dust and broken glass crunching beneath her boots. She didn’t see any signs of life besides maybe some rats. As she neared the opposite corner what could’ve been a makeshift sitting area came into view, blocked from view initially by a stack of boxes. She approached noting the circle of crates, a dusty blanket, and a few books piled on the side. 

She peered at the title of the book on the top of the stack. 

The Royal Family of Terrasen. Mixed emotions surged through her body. 

“Who’s in here?” A male voice boomed nearly rattling the windows. Celaena shuttered, letting her bravo fill her bones as she heard a set of footsteps enter the space. 

+++ 

Rowan Whitethorn’s life since the fall of Terrasen and the reign of the Valg had been a hell-hole, to put it bluntly. His family fell out of status, his parents were slain in the ambush on Orynth’s castle, and Rowan was left in an unfamiliar land at twelve years old. 

A sect of the Whitethorn house had been visiting Terrasen’s court for the holidays when Maeve made her move against the continent. Doranelle crumpled first to her rule and Terrasen followed, the army of Valg she’d amassed was too large to stand against. Adarlan only survived because King Dorian bowed down to Maeve. 

Even now at twenty-two, he has nightmares about that evening. The terror he felt as Valg poured into the ballroom and slaughtered the royals. The terror he saw in the princess of Terrasen’s eyes as she was shoved into the kitchens by her nursemaid where Rowan had happened to take shelter as well. He was scared too, running as soon as his father screamed at him to as the Valg slit his throat. He regretted it deeply, leaving like a coward when the palace was invaded. He regretted the cowering he did in the kitchens as well but when the young princess had burst in the doors, tears flowing freely down her cheeks something had come over him. He had pushed her out into the snow yelling at her to run and she did, scrambling to find her footing.

The rest was a blur, the Vlag hurried into the kitchens soon after but somehow Rowan made it out with his life. The same could not be said for many people in the castle that night. 

Now, Rowan lived in Rifthold as a thief and doer of other’s dirty work. He longed for the day he could get out of this city of nightmares crawling with Valg. One day, he promised himself, one day he’d have to funds to make it back to Wendlyn and witness what had become of his home. 

There was an opportunity, though, that’d heard about from whispers on the streets. Aedion Ashryver. One of the few survivors from Terrasen’s downfall. He chosen to stay in Terrasen’s territory afterward, the country had no real structured ruling now. The old King-Consort Darrow was the closest thing there was to a king but from what he’d gathered the man is old and weak, not the same after the death of his husband, King Orlon. Terrasen had virtually crumbled. 

Somehow, Aedion had built up the Bane and gained standing for himself. A standing he was using to campaign to find his long-lost cousin. How Maeve hadn’t gotten wind of Aedion and his plotting and squashed him, Rowan wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, Aedion was offering a hefty reward for the return of his dear Aelin, the nation’s true queen, convinced she was still alive.

Rowan thought the operation was useless. Her body was never found, that was true, but he imagined she’d likely fled into the Oakwald forest and perished from hypothermia not long after. If he could make a pretty penny from returning the ‘princess’ to Aedion, though, he wasn’t above doing so. 

All Rowan needed was a young, blonde, and blue-eyed woman he could convince to join his cause and he could coach her to be the perfect replacement for Aelin. Truthfully, he wasn’t convinced this could ever be achieved but it was something he’d contemplated. 

Rowan was making his way back to the warehouse he liked to operate his more shady business out of, the biting cold seeping into his clothes. The looming, muddy red-brick building came into view and he pushed the frosted metal door open. Immediately, he was aware that someone had invaded his space. 

Small footsteps had disrupted the layer of dusk along the floor. His hand flew to the dagger strapped to his chest as he prowled further inside. 

“Who’s in here?” he called out, gripping the dagger tightly by its handle. Once he got far enough into the space he could see a young woman was standing near his makeshift seats.

The first thing he noticed was she was beautiful. Long, golden blonde hair flowed down her shoulders, her skin was pale and her lips had a blue tint to them. Rowan pushed aside all those unsavory thoughts, she was an intruder after all. However, he couldn’t help but study her, she was dressed far too light for the dead of winter, not even a hat on her head. 

She looked right back at him, accessing him as he was her. She didn’t look scared to have been caught trespassing, no, honestly, she looked annoyed as if he was interrupting her. 

“Who the hell are you?”

~~~

let me know if y’all like it so far and would like to see more, xoxo

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say no to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

knight!natasha x lady!reader

sort of royalty au (there’s social hierarchy and a king and queen and knights and commoners and all that so- yeah it’s a royalty au nvm lmao)

warnings: this is fluff, angst, uh, basically everything but smut and serious angst.

word count: 2.5k, starting off short before we get into this 

part one!

also, to the very few people who look for fics up here- i promise i’m alive, sorry for being m.i.a! work and school are bodying me right now 

A lot could change within a year.

In a year, one was expected to grow wiser and older, and for you, because you were a woman, prettier. And because you did all three of those things in one year, you were herded off like cattle from your small farm, where the old pig you would soon be forced to call “husband” had seen you in the first place, and carted away to his large estate. You were supposed to be his wife, bear his children, and love him unconditionally even though you knew nothing about him, and he was supposed to do not even half of that for you. He had chosen you purely because your father had an abundance of wheat and animals, and he thought you were nice looking. He would surely never go hungry if he had the owner of a relatively large farm’s daughter with him.

Regardless of his reasoning for wanting to make you his wife, it ended up happening. You cried yourself to sleep the night before, and when you were done consummating the horrid marriage, you cried after he fell asleep, unable to shut your own eyes. That was how you spent your first night at the female counterpart to your lord husband, and as Lady Mirellis.

The marriage was loveless. The only thing you got out of it was a nice roof over your head and some silky clothing that made you feel like you were betraying who you really were. He was a brute and a pig, and he hardly ever spoke to you other than to tell you to get on your back, your knees, or something else as equally vile. You were the lady of his large manor, considered a small castle, but that was all you were. You made friends with the staff around, and that made things just the tiniest bit better. He was still cruel and crude, still insanely aggravating, and getting more and more angry with each month that you weren’t carrying his child.

And then, all of a sudden, he grew ill. And, within a month after he fell ill, he died. And then you were a single woman who had a large estate to her name, and a growing line of suitors who wanted nothing more than to have their last names attached to the great patch of land. You were the lady of the house without a lord, still young and still capable of marriage. After a large fuss over whether or not a young woman from your background was fit to take over, you had inherited everything.

So, yes, a lot could change in a year. And you decided that the changes that took place in that year were ones that you could barely handle.

§§

You knew exactly what the letter with the King’s Seal on it was when it was put into your hand, and you very easily guessed the contents of it.

You supposed that you should have seen it coming. Miraculously, your late husband and lord had gotten out of the Hosting, which could have been seen as treasonous or dishonorable if he had been any less careful. You grew up on a farm, and you had no idea how to go about denying or questioning royal decree, so you weren’t going to. You were going to have to Host, for the first time in your life.

Your family was never important enough to have to do it, so you had no experience with it, other than knowing that a high up lord of a small castle, or big estate, whatever one wanted to call it, was in charge of having a knight in their home while the knight completed his year long training. The training was said to come from within, and the job of the knight was to be a good, honorable guest, and to come back to the castle after their year expired as a new and improved person.

But it was rare that they truly soul searched, you had heard. Mainly because they were ninety nine percent male and thought with their penises more than their brains and hearts. The Hosting was a knight’s last stop before true knighthood, more or less a time that humbled young knights. It was a test of the true intentions of a knight, the true desires of a man who wished for glory and authority.

“For you, Milady.” You grimaced inwardly at the title, the title that you used to have to call the lady that you used to bring barrels of hay to on Sunday mornings. You nodded at the young boy, a smile on your face. He was new, and it was clear that this was his first task that involved him to speak to a “higher up” person.

You patted his head. “Thank you,” you said, and his eyes widened comically before he laughed and ran away, obviously shocked by the way you spoke to him back.

It wasn’t against the law, but it was frowned upon for nobles to speak to servants more than necessary. A noble person was not required to have manners or ask kindly for things, and when they did, it was certainly an out of the ordinary experience. You knew that well enough.

You broke the red seal and took in a deep breath, going to sit at your late husband’s desk (that you of course inherited, as you inherited everything the man had) and finding your name in perfect and Royal handwriting.

Lady Mirellis,

As you know, the time for the selection of The Hosting has come. Your house was not a host during the previous Hosting, therefore, you will be required to sponsor a knight this year. Out of respect for your late husband and all he has done for me, I will choose a knight for you, a knight that I trust. You will be safe with my choice, and the year will flow smoothly. Once again, I am sorry for your loss.

Please expect your knight within the fortnight, Lady Mirellis.

With respect, King Anthony Stark.

§§

Two weeks later, your keep was buzzing. You hated hosting things, even if they were short dinners. And you knew that you were going to hate hosting a person for an entire year. A brand new knight who was full of himself, no less.

King Anthony had given you what he thought was going to be an easy charge for a reason. New knights were known for being rowdy, disgusting, perverted, and authoritative when they shouldn’t have been. No lady should ever have to deal with the crude words or behavior of a man—certainly not. And with you and your poor husband gone, that meant that no one was there to help you.

You appreciated the kindness, but it was obvious that every man thought that women were only an extension of their husbands. If you weren’t able to handle the loud voices and taunting shouts of men and boys, you would have melted or turned to dust by the time you were thirteen years old. If you had survived a man who carted you off and away from your family like you were cattle, you could handle a boy who was staying under your roof.

Nonetheless, your people were busy, and so were you. They were making accommodations to the largest guest room, because it was to be someone’s for an entire year. They were cleaning things that you never thought would be cleaned, washing random sheets and hanging them to dry. And you? You were making the welcoming package.

You had never made one before, but you were trying your hardest. It was more or less a care package to make the knight feel comfortable. It was a starter kit, so that they wouldn’t have to ask for much or seem unfit for knighthood, because it was all about pride. So help anyone above, you wouldn’t be dealing with a knight with a bruised ego.

“Men,” you scoffed out, rolling your eyes as you fluffed the silk pillowcase and folded the top of the woven basket over, closing in everything and tying the top with a bow. 

“Y/N,” a woman’s voice called out, and you turned to it with a gentle smile.

Of course it was Wanda. Her and her brother were always by your side, ever since you had arrived at the keep. Pietro was the messenger boy for Lord Mirellis, because he was so fast on his feet. He delivered a message meant to go hundreds of leagues away and came back within days, when it would take others weeks. You liked Pietro a lot. He was a funny man, cheeky, but he knew his boundaries with people, whether they were lowborn or highborn. He had the same amount of respect for everything, and you admired that about him.

Wanda however, was your favorite person in the castle. She was the first kind face that you saw when you walked into the keep. She was the first person to actually ask you if you wanted help being dressed or brushing your hair. She was able to see that you needed help with your corset before you even asked. There were so many trivial things that Wanda did for you that made you so loyal to the friendship you shared, but there was one thing you were sure to never forget.

She had been the one to help you out of bed after a rough consummation night. She was also the only woman who had offered you even a sliver of sympathy, and for that, she was your greatest ally, and on a deeper level, a true friend. 

You had barely even seen her for more than five minutes before you woke up in bed by yourself the morning after that horrid night, crying silent tears and feeling sore between your legs. A knock sounded on the door, and instead of her turning away and apologizing for coming in on such an improper moment, she shut the door and asked you if you needed help, without any fear of being scolded. Wanda Maximoff was different. That’s why you liked her so much.

She was standing beside you as you waited, even though waiting for a knight was somewhat improper. You were supposed to wait inside and have them knock on your castle door, and you were to welcome them inside and have a warm dinner ready. That was how it was always supposed to go, but you decided not to do that.

You were standing outside, like the lady you had been forced to become. Your chin was slightly lifted and your hands were at your sides, even though you were desperate to fiddle with your thumbs. You took in a deep breath as you heard the sound of a carriage coming, horses and the chatter of men getting louder with each passing moment.

You would be a liar if you said that you weren’t scared to have a man in your house that you didn’t know. Not only would he be a man, but he would be a man that knew how to do things that most didn’t, such as how to properly wield a sword. You were a woman alone, a widow to a lord, and people had tried things with you before, ever since your husband had died. Most of the time, those things ended up with their hands being cut off as the legal and unyielding punishment for their attempted crimes.

“No one here is going to let a stupid knight hurt you, you know.” Pietro had come out of nowhere, chest puffed out as he looked to his sister for a moment, and then back at you. “Wanda is practically with you every second of every day, and I’m never too far.” It was true. There were guards around, as well, but you were still scared.

“If you don’t like it this year, you can always say no next year.” Wanda offered, but you whined under your breath when you remembered that this was no visit. The man would be living with you for an entire year. “And King Anthony said he would be giving you a man he trusted to sleep under your roof. I trust his word.” 

“As do I,” you said quickly, ringing out your hands one last time before the carriage got closer. “I’ll be fine, you two. Thank you.” And they knew just how grateful you were for them.

The carriage was being pulled by two white horses, both looking around carelessly and cluelessly as the coachman pulled them to a stop. “Lady Mirellis,” he said, looking you up and down, clearly judging you for not yielding to tradition. “It is very kind of you to meet us outside.”

“I thought it may be easier to begin the tour early,” you said, remembering at the last moment to school your voice into sounding ladylike. The stark difference between your public voice and the one that you spoke to Wanda and Pietro with always made Wanda smile a bit, and you knew that you would have laughed if you were looking at her. “I don’t want to give my new guest too large of a culture shock. I am not quite sure if he would appreciate being hoarded inside a place he hasn’t seen before.”

The coachman gave you an odd look, almost like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. Or maybe, why you were saying it. But, he knew that because of your status, your word outweighed his, and he would do as you said. Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest as you watched him climb out of his chair and walk around, and you saw his hand wrap around the handle of the white and gold carriage.

There was a flash of brilliant red. That was all you saw at first, and then you saw shiny armor, glinting in the sun. Your eyes trailed up from the shoes that you knew were crafted specifically for knights, up to the legs and then to the breastplate, which you noticed was curved outwards. Your brows furrowed as your eyes got stuck in that place, and you willed yourself to believe that it was a trick of the eyes. There was a pinch on your arm, and you realized that you had been staring without speaking for much too long. In your embarrassment, your eyes flickered up to meet the man’s, and then, you nearly choked.

The knight was no man at all.

*****

so this is a series! this idea has been cooking up in my head for a while now, and i figured it was finally time to go through with it! i’m really excited about this one, and i’ve already got most of it planned out. i hope you guys liked this!

also- if you would like to be tagged, you are free to ask! (bold of me to assume that any of y’all want a notif for this bye 😭) please interact with this if you liked it, it makes me so happy and motivated to hear from you guys!

[sapphicneverafter]

a fix-it fic/drabble (???? i might write more if people want it and post it to ao3) for acosf because i got through 7 chapters and gave up. it was that bad. i worked really hard on this so feedback is very much appreciated <3

Exiles of Light and Flame

Nesta was being sent to the human lands as punishment by her sister and her mate. No, she was being banished. Banished to a place where she was feared and forced into isolation. Her sister hadn’t even bothered to drop her off herself, she’d had Morrigan do it. The blonde hadn’t made the trip pleasant, to say the least. She knew that Lucien and his human friends had taken up residence in the area, she just didn’t expect it to be so far of a walk. Nesta rubbed her hands together to keep the biting wind at bay. Perhaps she should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

“Nesta.” Lucien greeted her with a guarded nod, stepping aside to allow her in. He didn’t ask why she was there or how she got there. He simply led her to the sitting room where Jurian and Vassa were sitting on an atrocious pink couch. The couch was gaudy and loud and unlike anything Feyre would’ve chosen to decorate with. Her lips upturned in a small smirk at the thought. Maybe a banishment to the mortal lands wouldn’t be the torture she’d first imagined.

“That’s an ugly couch. I like it.” It was the first thing she said. Blunt and rude, something her sisters found disgraceful. Jurian barked a laugh at her comment, obviously not taking it to heart. She tilted her head to the side in calculation, gauging their reactions to her presence.

“Nesta Archeron. No longer welcome among the Night Court, I presume.” Jurian was more perceptive than he let on. Nesta wondered if spending all that time on Amarantha’s finger had taught him how to find hidden emotions and intentions.

She’d heard Feyre speak of the three of them before, disdain evident in her tone. Lucien and his new human friends called themselves the Band of Exiles. It was a better name than Court of Dreamers but Nesta knew better than to voice that opinion to her sister and her temperamental mate. Sometimes she forgot that her sister had once been human. That she had once been human. That life seemed so far away now, not that it was only two years prior.

“Do I get a room?” Nesta had decided she’d stay awhile, if they’d have her. Though she was fairly certain none of them actually owned the home they were residing in. Jurian and Vassa exchanged a look, with each other and then Lucien. Lucien who had only said one word to her, her name.

“I’ll show you to it.” He finally breathed, his auburn hair resembling living flame beneath the faelight. He wasn’t what she expected, what she remembered. His steps weren’t deep and commanding like the Illyrian males of her sister’s new family, instead they were quiet and calculated. She followed him silently, unbothered to find conversation to fill the silence.

Nesta nodded a thanks as she entered her new room, shutting the door and catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She ran a finger through her long hair, it surprisingly still holding a semblance of shine despite her horrid eating habits. It was the High Fae genes she now had that kept it so. Her pointed ears came into view, a stark contrast to the ears she had grown up with. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to them, to her new body. Nothing felt like it was her own anymore, especially not the power she’d stolen and kept buried deep inside. She needed a change, something to take control of.

~

It was Jurian who found her digging around in the kitchen searching for scissors, arriving just in time to see her hold them up triumphantly. He chuckled at the sight, his eyebrows raised in question.

“I’m cutting my hair.” Nesta explained, not that she owed him an explanation. She didn’t owe explanations to anyone. Her sister and her husband didn’t agree with that sentiment. Hence, her banishment. “Well, I was going to ask Vassa to do it. I saw that she cut hers.”

“I cut her hair.” Jurian corrected, holding his hand out for the scissors. Nesta clutched them closer, unsure at the prospect of the former general cutting her hair. “Her Majesty would hack your hair, you think she’s ever lifted a pair of scissors herself? There’s no one to cut hair for you on the battlefield, you learn to do it yourself.”

Nesta nodded, handing over the scissors and plopping herself into one of the dining chairs. When Jurian asked how short, she pointed to halfway up her neck. She wasn’t expecting how much lighter she felt the more he snipped away. It was like she had been tied to a weight upon the ground and she was finally freeing herself.

Elain would have fainted at the sight of most of her hair upon the floor. What Cassian would think of it briefly drifted across her mind before she shut it down. He had agreed to send her here, to uproot her small sense of normalcy and send her away. She wouldn’t forgive that. She couldn’t forgive that.

~

If Lucien was surprised at her dramatic hair change, he didn’t show it at breakfast. She was surprised at the comradarie he shared with Jurian, treating the human as an equal. She still remembered how her sister and her court had looked down upon her when she was human, how they still did. How they reviled her with fear and distaste. An embarrassment to our reputation, Feyre had said. As though the Night Court wasn’t already hated long before her.

“Your eggs are getting cold.” Lucien reminded her with a surprisingly warm tone, taking her out of her thoughts once again. Jurian had since left the room, something she hadn’t even noticed. She pushed around her eggs and took a small bite.

“Thank you, for breakfast and for letting me stay here.” She forced a small smile, taking another bite of the eggs before pushing the plate away. Lucien didn’t comment on her barely touched plate, he simply took it and added to the pile of dishes he was washing.

“It’s no problem, wouldn’t want you out on the streets.” Lucien shrugged as he washed the dishes, looking up to meet her eyes. The scar across his metal eye was striking in a surprisingly handsome way. It was only then that she’d noticed he had tied back half of his hair. It wasn’t a bad look on him, he almost looked relaxed. “There’s a library in the house, second door on the left from the foyer.”

The red-headed male remembered how she had spent most of her time within the House of Wind. She was so sure no one was paying any attention to her there. Although his reasons for remembering could have to do with the fact that she was often with Elain then. She nodded and headed towards the library, it was empty when she stepped inside but magically warmed like the rest of the house.

Nesta ran a finger along the spines of the books, feeling which books were more worn than others. Whoever had previously owned the home had an extensive collection. It had been a while since she had read anything, too busy trying to bury her thoughts beneath alcohol. She picked a random one with a worn spine, her dress falling over her feet as she curled up in one of the chairs.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but soon she noticed the laughter coming from the living room. Vassa must have returned for the evening. A glance outside confirmed it, catching the end of the sunset. It was her plan to avoid her new housemates and retreat to her room but then there was a knock at the door.

Somehow the knock sounded and felt so familiar, but it couldn’t be. She hated herself a little for hoping that maybe it was the person she thought it was. That he’d come to save her. That he had defied his High Lord and decided she was worth it, even after how she’d treated him since the war.

Lucien got to the door before she could make herself move, opening it to find a broad shouldered Illyrian male. Nesta peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. When Lucien stepped aside, she saw what he was holding and the hope in her heart shattered. Cassian was here, but he wasn’t here for her. He was here to bring the last of her things and to be rid of her. Nesta didn’t need to listen to any explanations or ramblings, she didn’t have it in her. So, instead she turned her back on Cassian and walked away.

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye VIII — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

Picturesque day framed by the window of the brightly lit clinic, cool air swirling around them aiding Belle’s anxiety in whatever slight way it could. Fingers gripped at her knitted lavender cardigan, pressing her legs together to somehow prevent more chill to flow through the white floral dress. She seemed to focus on every other little thing while the man in a white coat in front of quickly typed and clicked in his own time.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Jeon.” The doctor smiled as if he just confirmed the happiness of a new family.

Six weeks passed since Belle took the dozens of pregnancy tests haunting her with pink pluses until finally the doctor gave the final verdict. Thankfully with the Spring Line show coming in close to around a couple months, she was able to avoid any conversation of whether the ritual worked.

Ritual. Fucking hell what year was this?

Her silence caused a slight awkward confusion to grip the doctor’s face, almost as if he was inching close to a verdict that something was wrong.

Nothing should be wrong, Belle reminded herself. Happy relationship, remember?

The woman quickly adorned the perfect smile on her face using her glossy eyes as the sparkle of joy. “Sorry…it’s just all very exciting to take in.” She chuckled and thankfully the doctor was immediately convinced giving her a proper smile.

“Of course—very happy news though. I’m sure your entire family would be elated.” His grin stretched from ear to ear like he was related to her some way.

Then again anyone who so much as knew the Jeon family seemed to have that mindset.

“I’ll have your report prepared in just a few minutes, Mrs. Jeon.” He nodded in reassurance while Belle leaned back on the chair.

Gaze moved to the window looking out at the people strolling back and forth living their lives. She wondered how many were living by their own accord. Based on their own needs. Were they happy with where they were? Some rushing in suits trying not to drop their coffees, mothers and fathers pushing their strollers with toddlers skipping next to them and then couples walking calmly in casual clothing.

When she was younger, Belle told herself she would not end up in any of those situations. She would get a car, halt on marriage and kids while focusing on her career entirely until her thirties at the very least.

The naivety of dreams. Dreams of a life no one could ever control. Dreams that were already in the hands of fate.

“Mrs. Jeon?” The doctor addressed for the third time.

Belle finally realized that was her name now, stripping back to reality. Even her name was not under her control any more. Legally she had her original name but people wouldn’t care. Taking the husband’s name was more popular. So now she was officially Mrs. Jeon to society.

Quickly smiling she accepted the envelope handed to her and bowed slightly. “Thank you, doctor.”

-

Walking out of the clinic into the beautiful day, she spotted Yoongi leaning back against the side of the car with his arms folded over his chest. Raven hair a little longer now hovering over his eyes as he watched her taking a deep breath at the entrance stairs. “So?” He asked, squinting a little in the sunlight.

“What do you think?” Belle mumbled with the envelope heavy in her hand much like the twisted feeling in her stomach. Stepping down to the end of the stairs, she looked around every corner that was visible to her. Scanning for any movement.

“No peeping in the bushes, don’t worry.” The older male reassured, pushing off the car and opening the door for the new mob queen. Even though he would never use that term in front of her without risking a kick on his foot.

Strolling to the other side of the car, Yoongi couldn’t help but mimic Belle’s scanning and ended up seeing a figure lurking in one of the alleys. Not that he was proud of it but Yoongi pretended to reach into his coat for a gun which evidently caused the figure to rush out to the streets.

“Fucking reporters.” Yoongi muttered under his breath before climbing back into the car and driving them back to the mansion.

-

Being invited to Sangria House during the day had not been on Taehyung’s to-do list but here he was anyway being driven to the establishment, by Kim Seokjin’s personal request.

The establishment exuded a different aura during the day as they parked to a halt in front of it. Flowers adorned the entrance in an arch matching the blossom trees behind the building creating a beautiful frame, most of the angels strolling around with their customers linked in hand while a lot of the juniors were simply having picnics under on the ground like it was their own paradise rather than people who entered.

As he walked into the makeshift garden, white coats welcomed him with a bow and led him into the private room with a brief statement of having a full days’ appointment with the best angel in the House.

Full day. Seokjin seemed to know his way around apologizing, he supposed.

Even on the inside things were so much more different. Customers were eating food normally instead chortling the whole way through; they were genuinely having good conversations with the red and lavender coats as if it was not going to lead anywhere. Purple drapes were replaced with more floral arrangements in strings trailing across the walls and he could have sworn butterflies passed them a moment ago.

The white coats stopped down the hallway to a familiar door knocking politely first.

Taehyung already had an achingly strong hope of who to see on the other side of the door.

And thank god, luck was on his side today.

The door opened and gracing him with her presence stood Angel in a different attire. It was still golden but a more casual hanbok with intricate floral designs on the overcoat that shimmer in the light against the silk. Less extravagance but more quality. Taehyung could immediately recognize who designed the dress.

Angel’s heart swelled finally being able to see the man again especially after the horrid way he was dragged out. She could still remember all the things he told her…all the things that haunted him now slowly taunted her.

Once the door closed behind Taehyung, the golden lady padded closer to the male.

Eyes moved around his body before she took a leap to cup his cheeks. “You’re okay.” A bright grin spread across her lips but her forehead knitted like she was close to crying. “Come in.” Gently Angel took his hand and walked to the table.

Taehyung couldn’t help but feel his entire body relax into her touch, leaning slightly into her touch before happily holding her hand. “You did full day appointments too?” He would have asked for that package in a heartbeat.

Angel smiled as they sat next to each other this time, shoulders brushing together. “No this is not a normal thing. Mr. Kim just wanted to apologize for the inconvenience caused last time.” She reached out and gave him some rice cakes. “I know you probably don’t want our tea right now so…I asked them to make these.” She pulled apart one rice cake in half and took the first bite to ensure him that it was safe to eat.

Warmth spread across his chest watching how her cheeks puffed when she ate, hiding her mouth and smiling, trying to stay elegant but still enjoy the taste. Taehyung had the strongest urge to press little kisses on her adorable cheeks.

The golden lady held up the other half of the cake to his mouth, giving him a reassuring smile that it was okay to eat.

Taehyung was not proud to admit that it did not matter if she offered him literal poison, he would still drink it just so the last thing he saw was that fucking smile. Though the cake did smell heavenly. Opening his mouth slightly he waited until Angel brought the cake so close that it brushed against his lips before he took the treat into his mouth. As soon as Taehyung bit into the soft texture, a burst of warm sweetness burst through and he felt a small lump in his throat.

How long had it been since he was able to really taste something properly? The man could never tell whether he was healing or not in the process of vomiting, taking medications and other methods Taehyung deemed boring or painful. It was only now at this incredibly simple moment of recalling just how tasty a rice cake was. How much he loved it in the years before.

“Is it bad?” Angel noticed the smile faded from his face. “I could go get something else.” She tried to get up but Taehyung softly touched her arm.

“No I’m just—” Taehyung chuckled after swallowing, eyes a little glossy as he met her gaze. “I haven’t had rice cake in a long time. It was really nice.”

She relaxed once more sitting next to him allowing a comfortable silence to seep through the air for a few moments.

Eventually the curiosity peeked far too much for her to control. “So…how was the wedding?”

A boulder seemed to drop and crash onto the hope of relaxing in this session now the question lingered. Taehyung could not blame Angel for being curious as she probably had been working the whole time it was happening.

But now he was reminded of the things other than the actual ceremony. The fake vows and calculated kiss under the blossom trees was more for the press.

Taehyung learned the hard way that the real ceremony was behind closed doors. He only found out after it happened because every relative from the Jeon family wanted to chat with him giving him no time to go and check on his sister. Now he wished he just pushed past all of them and ran to her.

It was too late though. By the time Taehyung got the chance to see Belle in the early morning, she was already in tears and shaking beyond belief before jumping into his embrace. She did not say a word to him or anyone for that matter. The whole two nights they were there, his sister stayed quiet merely smiling to the people who didn’t matter. When he found out about the secret ceremony Taehyung did the same.

With Jungkook, he didn’t even bother smiling. Every time he came close his fingers automatically curled into a fist conjuring up all the ways he could just get rid of him.

Now more than ever Taehyung grew aware that his baby sister was going through pain beyond belief while he healed. Aside from the heart clenching sadness, he grew determined to see an end for Jeon Jungkook.

“Taehyung?” Angel placed a hand on his arm gently before pulling away quickly. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer.” Her fingers played with the fabric of her dress with her head hanging.

Taehyung jumped back to his current state and shook his head quickly. “No—” He shifted closer until his hand rested behind her. “No it’s okay. Please ask me anything you want.” He gave her a reassuring smile trying to meet her gaze again.

The golden lady’s eyes flickered up see him so close that the warmth of his body radiated onto her.

“The wedding—” He sighed. “The wedding was beautiful…in a sense, I suppose.” Taehyung spoke with bitterness touching his tongue, pursing his lips together. He wondered for a moment if it were too much to speak these things out. Were these walls thick enough the hold the dark thoughts in his head long enough? Was it worth it show a side of him to Angel that he despised? A side of him created as soon as Belle told him, holding a teary smile that she was going to marry a monster and bear his child for his own benefit.

It turns out that part of Taehyung didn’t care who saw or heard him. “Do you ever have that situation where—you despise someone so much—because they’ve hurt you or someone important to you?—a hatred that runs so deep, the mere thought of them—” He huffed out a breath to somehow to cool down the anger erupting inside him. “Makes you thinks things unimaginable.”

Angel’s chest rose and fell slightly as her eyes now grew glossy. In a rush of painful memory, she remembered those words rushing in her own mind at some point. “Yes.” She muttered immediately pressing her lips together. All the nights of hiding in a bathroom and covering her ears hoping that her ex-husband would just pass out drunk. The way she trained herself to zone out every time he climbed on top of her.

Eyes shining and vision blurring just a little but enough to see Taehyung’s welcoming features so she could feel at ease. “You end up stripping them down to being nothing but a human. Not someone powerful…or someone with status that you can’t touch…Just a human. Vulnerable…soft…if you just grabbed a knife and stuck it at the right place. They’re nothing but meat.”

Taehyung’s expression softened hearing such a composed woman speak out the unimaginable things in his mind already. “What if that powerful person is Jeon Jungkook?” It was not something he didn’t think about before. There were dark points in his time living in that place knowing the man was just sleeping soundly in the room with no one really watching over him.

“You can’t do that.” She shook her head.

“But you said—”

“No, Taehyung—your sister is now a Jeon.” Angel raised a hand to ensure that the man listens to her every word. “If you sister is widowed in the Jeon family, it won’t bode well on her. She’ll be tied down to the family until her death. If Jungkook is doing something then there needs to be a divorce.”

“How do you know all that?” His brows furrowed.

“Seok—Mr. Kim told me a story that Jeon Boyoung was a widow…she had to marry someone arranged by the family a day later. It’s a terrible life, Taehyung, remarried widows are not given any kind of respect in the family. The new husbands are allowed to be unfaithful to them or abusive to them without any consequence. The only reason Boyoung is doing somewhat well is because she is a Jeon by birth. Belle isn’t.” Concern riddled her expression hoping to the high heavens Taehyung understood what she was saying. “Jungkook cannot be killed while they’re still married.”

Taehyung shifted in his position feeling a slap of clarity right across his face. “Seokjin—how does he know all these things?” He shook his head. “And how does Belle get a divorce? That family controls everything.”

“Not everything.” Angel whispered so low, she had to lean closer to him. “Belle needs someone to support her alibi. Someone just as powerful as the Jeons. It’s not just them that controls everything, there are other influential people in the city.”

“How am I supposed to find someone just as powerful?”

Sighing shakily, she glanced around the room before moving to stand on her feet. A quick smile tugged at her lips almost as if this whole conversation never happened. “Would you like a take a stroll with me, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung nodded before trying to return her smile, standing up as his mind filled with nothing but confusion.

-

By the time they reached the mansion the envelope in Belles hand scrunched up as if it has been read a million times already. She tried smoothing it out a little when the car parked but it still look just about as messed up as her mind orientation. Crinkles mimicking a drought riddled land and light stains of foundation remnants from her fingers.

Yoongi climbed out of the car first as the two guards from the front walked a bit closer. Standing on her side now, he waited for her to take a break to breathe before opening the door and watching her step out. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be waiting just outside the room.” He muttered as they moved to enter the mansion.

Guards as usual welcomed them with a bow and Belle had the urge increase her pace towards the second living room, her heart racing at the same speed. Fingers shook, body burned from her toes to her head and her legs moved slower than normal at the lack of concentration. She hated wearing a lavender cardigan today because the colour looked far bright for her actual mood.

Looking over her shoulder, Belle saw Yoongi standing with his hands in his jacket, giving her a reassuring nod.

She couldn’t hide it for too long. At some point it was going to get difficult to avoid everyone on the truth. Especially Jungkook.

For a moment Belle paused again hearing muffled voices on the other side of the office door. A usual sound now for the past few weeks. Padding closer to the wooden barrier, only one voice stood out like a teacher scolding an empty classroom. It would be easy to just turn away with the excuse that Jungkook was too busy but no one should be too busy for this. At least in her mind.

She stood close to the door that someone might mistake her for kissing it. Closing her eyes, Belle knocked twice before opening the door just enough to walk inside.

“Move the surviving associates to the other dens, fucking fight back next time!” Jungkook growled slamming the phone down so hard that she heard a crack. He stepped away from the phone, rubbing his face with a frustrated sigh padding through him.

Belle stood inside the room, immediately regretting that she entered but it had be done now or the courage would never arrive again. “Jungkook?”

“Not now.” He muttered without even giving her sideways glance.

Anxiety faded a little; the same heat but it ignited a different kind of fire in her belly. “Yes now.” She spoke firmly, lips pursed together.

Slightly reddened eyes met Belle’s gaze as he padded over to the table once again more, leaning on the edge, dark curls falling over his face. Jungkook tried to control his heavy breathing but it only seemed to get worse when he started thinking about it. “Belle, I’m not in the mood for any more drama today, alright?” He shook his head slowly, hands nearly trembling with fury.

Belle sighed to calm the fire down somehow as the envelope grew so heavy in her hand, she worried her grip would relinquish without her knowing. “This is important.” She took a step forward but quickly jumped back.

Jungkook knocked the phone off the table with the back of his hand, harsh thuds and broken rings echoing throughout the room. “Important?! What could be so fucking important that you can’t give me a moment of peace?” He stomped across from the table almost leaving steam behind him.

“My entire goddamn empire is breaking apart into pieces!” He threw his hand towards the fallen phone as his feet nearly stepped over hers. “I’m sure whatever you have to say can fucking wait.” Hot breath brushed against her already warmed up face.

“It can’t fucking wait!” Belle shouted back despite her mouth feeling incredibly dry, the heat around them collecting and making her a little dizzy. “This—” She jabbed the envelope at his chest not really caring whether it caught or not as it dropped to the ground. “This is what your screwed up family wanted, you got it.”

Eyes burned with tears once again, stomach clenching and her head spinning abnormally. “You won.” She smiled sadly. “Congratulations.” She seethed turning on her heel and stomping out of the door, slamming it so hard that it echoed through the whole mansion.

Stomach twisted in such a way that it almost meant to give Belle as much pain as humanly possible making her wince while tears forcibly streamed down her face. She rushed across the second living room completely ignoring Yoongi who tried to call out her name.

It didn’t take a genius to see that breaking the news had been worse than he expected. The family wanted the damn baby so why did he have to see Belle running out with one of the most heartbreaking expression he had ever seen on the girl? And Yoongi had seen a lot, much to his own discontent.

Yoongi tried to open his mouth to say something but Belle already flashed past leaving the gust of wind behind with her speed. If he knew what happened then it would be easier, right now nothing but confusion and a little sadness gripped his face.

“Get my car ready, please.” Belle announced to one of the guards who immediately bowed and rushed off to do her bidding.

The older male lurked at the edge of the second living room and watched a young looked guards who he remembered was called Jongho. One of Belle’s regular guards who usually kept an eye on her the most. The amount of influence this woman had in the entire Jeon mansion honestly could frighten even Yoongi. Every guards seemed to lose their composure and give her a sad look as if wanting to comfort her in her time of need.

Jongho leaned in a little to hear her whisper, possibly about her location because it had to be known to someone just in case. The young guard nodded and opened the double doors for her.

Yoongi would have rushed to the girl and provided some comfort but if she purposely ignored him then it was clear that her intention was to be alone. All he knew was no woman should ever come out looking that fucking upset after trying to tell their husband she was having their baby.

Jungkook tightened his jaw as the sound of the door still rung in the air. Roughly raking his fingers through his hair as if he was pulling it from the roots, gaze flickered down to the discarded envelope. Crouching down Jungkook picked up the slightly crumpled paper and ripped it open letting the little pieces drip carelessly to the ground.

His heart began to race when he saw a doctor’s pregnancy test report details. Forehead knitted reading through the report until the word ‘results’ caught his eye.

Then in big capital letters, his mistake came crashing down harder than a bag of bricks to his head.

POSITIVE.

All the anger faded away quicker than Jungkook prepared for as it replaced with a painful clench in his chest and the whole world momentarily crashing down on him.

The ritual worked.

‘You won’ she said.

His family won.

The walls of his mind closed in on itself tightly not knowing whether to spread elation or guilt through his body. Instead a deadly mixture of both feelings pumped in his veins making his fingers tremble for a whole different reason.

Jungkooks’ biggest den had been infiltrated by the police, once again with the mayor’s direct orders and the speculations of his hand being involved grew stronger by the day. He knew with all his heart how important it was to keep his business and empire safe but now…

What was more important now?

Something wet dropped onto the paper soaking through the ‘I’ and ‘E’ of the word ‘positive’ bringing him back to reality. Jungkook sniffled quickly, wiping away the tiny trickles of tears escaping down his cheek before opening the door.

“Where is she?” The question posed and everyone’s eyes were on him now, even the maids paused in their tracks to look at him. Could they notice the tears gathering in his eyes? Once again Jungkook had to succumb to feeling like a lost boy who didn’t know what to do without the guidance of his family.

Hair over his face managed to cover most of his distress but Yoongi only had to glance down at the paper clasped tightly in the younger male’s hand to know why.

“She drove out.” He nodded towards the entrance.

Jungkook did not utter another word before practically rushing out of the second living room but immediately paused when Yoongi stood in front of him.

He raised his hands in defense seeing Jungkooks’ glossy eyes burning into him at the disrespectful action. “Sorry, sir but—I believe your wife wanted to be alone right now.” Yoongi attempted to explain in the most careful way possible. Though his mind conjured much more colorful words. The last person she wants to see is the dickhead who impregnated her against her will.

Anger burned to his very core seeing Yoongi speak to him so casually. “Do you even know where she went? What if she gets into danger?!” Jungkook growled making the maids jump back and frantically continue on with their work.

Fortunately Yoongi had been significantly numbed to acts of intimidation. “I know where she is and she’ll be as just as safe there as she would be here. You don’t have to worry.” He shook his head, trying to keep his voice calm and collected.

“But—” Jungkook held up the paper pathetically, sighing shakily.

“I know…I went to the clinic with her.” Yoongi nodded. “She’s okay. She just needs a little space, it’s completely normal.”

It’s not normal and she wasn’t okay but he really just needed to live right now.

Jungkook had the strongest want to keep fighting and just push past to find her but where would that even lead? Ever since that night, Belle couldn’t even look at him properly. Honestly he didn’t have the courage to look at himself either. All his life his parents taught him that the family customs existed for good reasons. Reasons which kept them alive for so long. As a naïve child he found himself never finding anything wrong with these customs.

Until he had to go through them. Along with dragging the woman he grew to care about into it.

Turning away from Yoongi, Jungkook dragged his feet towards one of the couches in the second living room and slumped down.

“I made her think it wasn’t important.” He stared at the paper, reading the same word over and over again. “My father would always tell me how happy he was when my mother told him she was pregnant.” Jungkook scoffed, his vision blurring a little. “He picked her up and twirled her around right in front of all his men not giving a care if he would look weak.”

Yoongi pursed his lips together leaning on the wall behind him.

“Family makes you stronger, he said. Nothing stronger than family.” Jungkook pressed down the inner corners of his eyes with his index finger and thumb, shutting his eyes tightly to stop any more tears from flowing.

“Anyone can pretend to be happy at first.” Yoongi spoke plainly. “It’s what you do for the next twenty years that actually counts.”

Jungkook licked his trembling lips not completely convinced but it wouldn’t be the first time he succumbed to the alluring beauty of a lie.

-

Clouds spread out to welcome the heavenly blue and golden warmth as Belle padded across the entrance gardens of the Sangria House. For a second, a few people stopped with their usual activities to stare at her, twist of recognition on their faces. With a sigh Belle hugged her cardigan again being the only comfort for today despite the colour being so harsh on her tired eyes.

Through the entrance doors, she looked around the area like a slightly lost puppy. The lobby used most of the natural light making it look like a beach hut of some sort as the warmth was now replaced with fresh cool air.

Belle hoped with all her soul that the person she wanted could just appear right here out of luck. Unfortunately luck was not a trustworthy friend in recent months.

More eyes now fixated on her presence and a figure even padded towards her; tall with lines adorning his face, tattoo peeking out from his shirt and a smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you open?” The man’s gaze trailed up and down her body. Waft of cologne and tobacco swirling around his aura as he moved closer.

“Excuse me?” Brows furrowed but before she could channel any more of her frustration, a red coat rushed over to her side.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jeon…” The red coat bowed in a meek tone even though it was not her fault in the slightest.

The rude customers’ smile immediately disappeared into a look of despair and fear, widened eyes staring back at Belle. “Mrs. Jeon…” He bowed so low that he almost vanished from her line of vision. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“Would you have continued on with your shenanigans if I wasn’t Mrs. Jeon?” She glared down at the male.

He gripped at the fabric of his trousers tightly, still bent down as if ready to be flogged.

“I assumed too quickly, Mrs. Jeon. Please accept my deepest apologies.” His voice shook slightly knowing the smallest word to Jungkook about this behavior would end in a whole lot of limbs being lost.

Belle sighed lightly, averting her gaze. “It’s alright. Just make sure I don’t find you doing it again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeon…” The man smiled giving repeated bows as he backed away. “You are most kind.”

The man now led away by the red coat, Belle was being hosted by one of the white coats who asked what she needed today.

The previous aching in her stomach seemed to get worse despite getting the fresh air while even the mildest rush of heat from the day increased tenfold when it reached her skin.

Oh god…not now.

“Park Jimin, please. If he’s free.” Belle spoke, her strength wavering a little as every part tried to suppress the pain in her chest pushing something up to her throat.

Giving her another bow the white coat led her off to one of the private rooms.

Once again her feet seemed drag across the floor like the world moved too much to catch up properly. More swirling around in Belle’s head, the bitterness in her throat erupted with cruel strength, forcing her to grip on the edge of the door to steady herself.

“Mrs. Jeon? Are you okay?” The white coats’ hands hovered over her to prevent any dreaded fall but distant enough for manners.

Belle gave her a shaky smile through she still held onto the edge as if her life depended on it. “Just a little queasy…” Stomach clenched again and her mind grew stubborn, only thinking about something heavy being pushed up her throat almost choking her. “Is there a—” She tried to swallow it down but it seemed to get more violent. “Is there a bathroom anywhere?”

Her eyes widened before quickly nodding and gesturing towards the private room. “This has a bathroom, madam.” The younger girl tried to gently lead her inside where a small door stood closed.

Passing the little empty table, Belle felt saliva flooding inside her mouth until drool almost leaked out of the sides forcing her to burst open through the door without waiting for the girl and throwing herself in front of the toilet.

Knees ached against the cold wooden floor, chest lurching painfully as the contents of her stomach spewed out in the form of a burning liquid. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes struggling to breathe, a small part hoping it was over before her stomach lurched again.

She vaguely heard footsteps coming closer before her hair was being brushed back gently and her back soothingly rubbed.

Belle coughed feeling a harsh burn in her chest but finally being able to breathe easy as the nausea faded albeit taking its sweet time. As soon as she turned to the side, a hand towel gestured her way. She accepted it with a rush of gratitude as she wiped off her mouth still letting out small painful coughs.

Glossy reddened eyes flickered over to the side, seeing a familiar pair of sultry eyes and pouty lips look back at her with an expression of concern.

“You okay?” Jimin whispered, hand sliding from her back to her shoulder, squeezing it a little as a form of comfort.

Belle sighed before pursing her lips, more tears threatening to flood out if she continued to speak. So the woman merely shook her head, chin trembling and heart crumbling into pieces. The action alone held more truth than anything she ever forced herself to say.

His expression softened not needing any type of explanation as to why Belle looked so upset. Jimin saw the whole thing with his own eyes. No one could ever come out of that and still feel the same. All he could truly do was pull her close and wrap her into a warm embrace, allowing the woman to sob into his shoulder.

Fingers curled into the lavender fabric, sobs now pushing out of her as Jungkooks words replayed over and over again. All the smiles, laughter and kisses. All of them were fake. Nothing was real. Now more than ever Belle had been forced awake from the fantasy that began to thicken far too much. It stripped down to the harsh reality. When her whole future was taken away in one night.

-

They embraced until their legs fell asleep before eventually moving over to the main private room. Jimin’s hands still on Belle’s arms carefully guiding her to a seat.

Once the new air brushed in, the nausea slowly fizzled out allowing her to breathe in without feeling like a nasty potion being conjured in her throat.

As the pair sat across from one another a moment of silence lingered. Whether to consolidate the memory of their embrace or just time to adjust to their usual setting, both of them were not quite sure.

Then she spoke in a raspy and exhausted voice.

“I always thought I’d feel like the happiest woman in the world when I got pregnant.” Belle said with her head hanging, tears still freshly formed and a heart that could not seem to stop clenching into itself like it hid from something. “Every time I saw a baby smile…I’d always think…I’m going to have that one day with the man I love and he loved me.” She shook her head before scoffing at the naivety. All those stupid dreams of a happy life filled with love, loyalty and trust. Everything replaced by deceit and manipulation.

Jimins’ could feel the burning behind his eyes watching the broken shell of a strong woman speak out thoughts of a time when she was whole. Fingers twitched wanting to embrace her again but the moment for that passed. Now they both had to come to terms with speaking the truth. “You–you can still be happy…” He winced a little at his own words. “Arranged marriages can—” He swallowed hard. “—they can work out through time.”

Not this kind of arranged marriage. At least some arranged marriage gave the couple a chance to say agree or disagree on things. Here Jungkook merely took a fake girlfriend, then he and his family proceeded to do whatever they needed to her for their own benefit. All she had to was sit there, smile and take it.

Belle smiled at the lavender figure as if to reassure him that she appreciated his help. “It’s—complicated…” She chuckled, a small droplet trickling down her cheek. Averting her gaze, she wiped away her tears quickly with a light sniffle. “I supposed I shouldn’t complain. You probably have it worse.”

Jimin hummed in disagreement, shaking his head. “I feel safer here than anywhere else.” His brows furrowed lightly. “Seokjin—” He stammered a little accidentally calling Mr. Kim by his name. “I know he has a reputation but he’s a good man. Really. Never gets angry unless it’s at customers which is rare. He’s always keeps us safe.”

Eyes flickered to meet his, blinking slowly as her curiosity now peeked more than she ever felt it before. “But…what he did to Taehyung…” Belle gestured towards the table before them which had a half-drunken glass of water near her.

He leaned in and spoke in a whisper. “To protect Angel.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Taehyung didn’t do anything. Why would he get punished like that?” Belle kept her voice soft but loud enough for them to hear. As her words became consolidated in the air and in their memories, something struck in her mind that seemed to muffle everything out for a moment.

Jimin paused thinking over what to say before slowly taking a breath. “His… methods are little—”

Calculated. Planned.

For the first time in too fucking long, Belle could see past this thick veil of confusion. It wasn’t all just cruel fate. Her heart raced so hard it tried to crash through her ribcages and even her toes began shaking from the rush of adrenaline pumping in each vein.

Taehyung wasn’t drugged so Angel could be safe.

Tears dried up and a new rush of determination touched her broken form. Belle leaned in, gaze fixated on his, speaking in a firm tone. “Is there any way I could organize a meeting with Seokjin?”

-

Taehyung tried his best to suppress the intense heat on his cheeks feelings Angels’ soft hands interlock with his slightly rough ones. Through one of the backdoors, they were welcomed by the bright light of the beautiful day and the beautiful blossoms in all their glory.

Pink, red and purple petals falling to the green ground or continuing to fly through the wind to their own personal freedom. Subtle scent of jasmine and lemons touching his nostrils despite the actual plants being situated all the way at the end of the large backyard. A few angels both red and lavender wore more comfortable clothing rather than extravagant while entertaining their customers. Some of them danced in front of the picnic set up or simply sat with them engaged in light-hearted conversation.

He almost forgot the purpose of their visit to this slab of imaginary heaven as Angel led him past the laughing the patrons and towards the jasmines hanging on the fence just facing all the lemon trees. Taehyung wondered if this was what they used for their tea recipes. The small wonder momentarily halted when he felt himself being pulled under one of the lemon trees.

Subtle scent now became potent in his nose, the heavenly jasmine and citrus mixing with Angel’s sweet vanilla perfume. It would have been overwhelming if Taehyung had not lost his focus when meeting the golden ladys gaze.

Her grip on his hand loosened a little but a few fingers still struggled to depart from one another. “I wanted to say this to you in more privacy. The rooms are always watched.” Angel whispered with a light smile. “I’m so sorry…I was the one who put the drug in your tea.” She hung her head. “I didn’t know it was going to make you sick.” The usual composed walls around her once again opted to fade away when standing so close to Taehyung. “I—I thought it was going to make you feel more relaxed and calm—I didn’t…” Angel paused in her shaky words when she felt his hand cupping her cheek gently.

Taehyung watched her beautiful eyes getting glossier every second she continued speaking, each second his heart sunk deeper into a pit. “Did Seokjin ask you to do it?”

Angel pursed her lips, blinking frantically to get rid of the tears forming. “Yes.”

He scoffed averting his gaze, rush of heated fury erupting in his belly. “They’re all the same.”

“No…” She shook her head immediately holding onto his arms. “Taehyung, look at me.” The leaves rustled in a gust of wind causing her hair to flow over her lips a little. “Seokjin isn’t the man you think he is.”

Taehyungs’ brows furrowed searching her expression to find some sense of delusion or lack of surety but the woman looked collected as normal. “What kind of a man is he then? Who drugs their own customers for intimidation?” He seethed more so directed at Seokjin than the beauty before him.

Angel glanced quickly to the side ensuring that nobody was close to listen in. “The helping kind. Taehyung, if he was anything like Jungkook you’d be dead by now or he’d never allow you to see me ever again.” Her own heart jumped at the very mention of the idea. “Seokjin would never do what Jungkook did to your sister.”

He tightened his jaw as his stomach twisted and leaped causing an ache in abdomen. “What?”

“I know about the deal.” She whispered. “Seokjin told me as soon as you walked into Sangria House.” Angels’ bottom lip trembled moving one of her hands to caress his cheeks.

“How much did he tell you?” Taehyung swallowed down hard.

“Everything. He always does.” She smiled sadly, brushing her thumb over his temple. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Her smile quickly disappeared however as she halted her actions. “But your sister isn’t.”

“What can I do?” He muttered leaning in closer with the guise of being secretive but really he desperately wanted to close the distance between them. “Please tell me.”

-

Door opened gently by Jimin who quickly bowed as soon as they walked inside. A rush of cold air flowed through even Belles’ thick cardigan gushing from the air conditioner swirling with the soft linen waft of cologne. Seokjin sat at his table in the middle of writing something out on a paper before he peered through his glasses to see the two figures walk into the room. A calm expression across his handsome features as per usual despite clearly being disturbed in his work.

Belle padded further inside, fingers intertwined with each other and her posture at its perfect stature determined to look her most composed.

Seokjin quickly stretched a smile across his plump lips before standing up as a sign of respect. “Madame Belle, it’s always nice to see you.” He gave her a nod. Eyes flickered over to Jimin who stood politely in the corner looking a bit confused as to what he was supposed to do. “Thank you for escorting our prestige guest here, Jimin.”

It was a kind but clear sign that the lavender adorned male could leave the vicinity for their private conversation.

“Jimin can stay.” Belle glanced towards him before facing Seokjin. “I trust him if you do.”

Silence plunged into the room as both males still attempted to figure out just what Belle was trying to do or say. However Seokjin had to suppress a smirk at a few theories conjuring in his mind. He gestured for the two of them to sit at the vacant chairs.

Jimins’ confused gaze flickered from Belle to Seokjin before quickly closing the door of the office and following the woman to the chairs, sitting down as soon as she did.

Belle brushed away any creases on her dresses as she situated herself on the chair, the chill creating goosebumps on her bare skin.

Seokjin pushed away his blazer careful not to crease the ends as he sat down. Sighing happily, he smiled at the both of them leaning back on the chair. “What can I do for you, Madame Belle? Has Jimin been doing something inappropriate?”

The lavender males’ heart jumped frantically looking over at Belle with wide eyes.

“No. In fact the reason I wanted him here is to thank him…for helping me answer a question I could never wrap my head around.”

“And what question is that?”

Belle searched his expression, heavily impressed with how he could keep such a composure. Deep down she almost worried that her theory might sound silly at the end. “Why would a man with such a heavy security system in his facility—and security guards the size of buildings feel the need to drug a potential threat?” She squinted lightly.

Silence plunged into the room like a welcomed disease as Seokjins’ smile appeared back again even wider. “Well…I have less than glorious methods sometimes but it’s all to protect my beloved angels. Especially my wife.” He explained in the most rehearsed way possible even though they both knew it was merely a dialogue recited many times for people more gullible.

“Angel was never in danger.” The corner of her lip twitched as her goosebumps dialed down through the warmth radiating inside. “Your angels are always safe. At all times. The second something goes wrong, the guards are there in seconds.” Twitching turned into a steady smirk that for the first time Belle did not have to think about or force. “You knew that.”

“Knew what?” Seokjin asked, much to Jimins’ confusion, the man looked utterly pleased with the exchange.

“You knew Taehyung would never do anything to hurt Angel.” Belle shook her head. “You just needed an incident…the perfect incident to get anyone who could carry a simply vial to the Jeon mansion.” She chuckled softly at her own gullibility despite her cried out eyes burning in the harsh cold wind. “The most foolproof infiltration. Make Jungkook’s beloved girlfriend think her brother was terribly sick and sneak a police officer in to play the medic just at the right time.”

The older male grinned brighter than Belle or Jimin had ever seen it. Clearly this was not a dark secret he meant to keep from the woman otherwise the conversation would have turned into something a lot more different. “I must say, Ms. Belle…” Seokjin leaned in and rested his elbows on the table. “I’ve been at this for years now—possibly longer than Jungkook has been leader. Never once did anyone decide to question me or my involvement in traitorous behaviors. Why do you think that is?”

“Because you’re a powerful man.” Belles’ smile faded away for a moment. “They won’t question anything you do even if they know it’s wrong—because you can make them lose everything with a flick of your fingers.” She pursed her lips together. “I’ve already been one of them once…I’m not doing it again.”

Seokjin nodded slowly, noticing how her gaze mended from shattered shards to the woman who was ready to pick all the pieces up and mend herself together. “And who are you now? Mrs. Jeon Jungkook? Kim Taehyungs’ sister? Or Madame Belle?”

It always came down to this, didn’t it?

In a series of mind breaking and heart clenching events, one rushes out of the woods to find themselves wondering if they were the same person who entered in the first place. Was she still the same little sister who desperately wanted her brother to get better? Was she the perfect wife for Jungkook? Or was she the designer striving to be as successful as Saito herself?

Maybe Belle was all of them combined. Or none of them and this was all a sick dream playing out in her head but it couldn’t be.

The path in front of Belle now split into two; a fork awaiting her to step into to lead into a future that might make more sense than this one.

This felt too real. It didn’t feel good or satisfying nor did it make her feel relaxed.

This was real. It was time for her to wake up and draw the curtains on this fantasy.

-

Sun began moving over to the other side when Belle drove back to the mansion after feeling a significant brush of relief in her body.

For the first time she walked through the door with an air of both confidence and a little fear when her hand caressed her belly. You’re not going to be born in this mess. I promise. Padding across Belle smiled at Jongho who waited politely just at the entrance before returning a smile of his own with a nod.

Inside the main living room, Yoongi paced around biting down his fingernails mostly trying to stop himself from drinking something at the bar. Not that it would help since it was full with fucking apple juice. He wished he bought a coffee earlier but in his past experiences a boost of caffeine almost never helped with stress.

Footsteps made him pause in his tracks. A rush of calm pulsed through him when Yoongi saw Belle walking towards the male. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He whispered padding closer. “You okay?”

The woman stayed silent, completely dried out of tears and Jimin comforted more than enough. Now the only thing left was that feeling of exposure when the truth finally revealed itself. She felt naked in front of it but free from the lies. “I just went out to the Sangria House, I was safe.” Okay was a difficult word to associate with her right now.

Yoongi nodded fingers curling into themselves before he repeated the same action at the payphone.

“Taehyungs’ there too, I’m told.” Belle didn’t get a chance to catch him but she now knew that Seokjin had no intentions of hurting him in the first place. “Where’s Jungkook?”

He gulped, averting his gaze and gesturing towards the stairs. “He—read the report. Hasn’t come out of the room yet.”

Stomach started doing leaps again, fear rising that she might have another episode with her head over the toilet. Belle hummed mulling over her thoughts before leaning into his cheek and pressing a chaste kiss. One couldn’t even truly call it a kiss, just a light press of her soft lips against his burning skin. When she pulled away the woman smiled proceeding to cause more heat to bundle up inside him. “Thank you.”

Yoongi merely breathed out a sigh unable to speak as Belle gently walked past him up the stairs.

He felt the guards’ eyes on him, some of them judging his reddened cheeks while others smirking. Quickly clearing his throat Yoongi bolted towards the guestroom.

In the same gentleness Belle did earlier, opening the door with care peeking inside briefly before completely entering and closing the door behind her. Turning around Jungkook sat at the edge of the bed just as she was the first time they came into the mansion. His head hung, dark locks forming a slight curtain while his hands rubbed his face, light sniffling riddling the air mixing in with the strong stench of tobacco.

Gaze flickered over to the study table to see a few used cigarettes including one still exuding smoke almost halfway used.

The woman winced accidentally taking a big waft when she tried to breathe in causing her to cough and break the silence.

Jungkooks’ head shot up hearing the sound, quickly jumping off the bed and rushing to the study table. Picking the cigarette he roughly pressed it against the ashtray waving the smoke away from the woman. “I’m sorry.” He muttered in a slightly shaky voice.

“For what?” Belle padded towards the bed to her side, placing her bag on the nightstand before carefully sitting at the edge. Her legs melted into the soft surface finally being able to rest physically at least. Lazily she swung them over fully onto the bed after taking her shoes off, shifting back she rested her back on the headboard.

Jungkook leaned on the edges of the table before hanging his head again. “For everything.”

The vague answer was always the easiest.

Belle reached out for the throw blanket and placed it over the bare parts of her legs providing extra comfort and warmth. “You were stressed, I should’ve waited.” She replied simply.

“You shouldn’t have to wait to tell me something like that.” He shook his head finally turning around to face her. “Six weeks.”

“Six weeks.” Belle gulped, fingers beginning to tremble a little. “I had to make sure.”

Jungkook blinked slowly before nodding as he padded over to his side of the room, pushing off his shoes. Sitting against the headboard the male let out a small sigh as he unbuttoned one more button on his white shirt to feel less constricted. “How big would it be right now?”

“Probably the size of a peanut.” She looked down at her belly and instinctively caressed it.

He immediately flickered down at her belly, still unable truly to understand how a human was going to grow in there. Despite the things Jungkook had seen in his life this was going to be the most surreal of them all. “You’re important to me, Belle.” He reached out and placed a hand over her belly. “Both of you.”

Belle moved her fingers over his and caressing the back of his hand slowly.

“Everything’s a mess right now I can’t—” Jungkook sighed leaning on the side of his head against the headboard. “I can’t think straight.” With his biggest den taken down, one after the other like a cruel domino effect his empire seemed lose each of its pillars. At the same time he had to try and pick all the pieces while protecting the standing pillars making his mind curl up into itself. As if a survival mode to get away from extreme stress.

She shook her head, patting his hand. “It’s okay.” Belle whispered knowing the word lost all its meaning a long time ago.

Jungkook tilted his head to search her expression watching the dull sunlight shine onto her locks making them look golden. Like a sailor being allured to the siren, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on her cheek and another on just on the corner of her lips. “I want you to be happy.” Nose nudged against her cheek.

Belle closed her eyes momentarily feeling his hot kisses against her skin, heavy remnants of tobacco on his breath forcing her to breathe through her mouth for a while.

Pulling away, the male shifted to lay his head on Belle’s lap facing her belly and blanket covered thighs used as a pillow. Finger traced at the little creases on the dress from her sited position as Jungkook relished in the scent of her perfume hopefully masking his cigarette riddled one. “It doesn’t matter what happens to the empire.” He whispered, gaze fixated on her belly. “So long you’re both happy…I’d give everything else up.”

Her heart swelled for a brief moment as Belle allowed herself to succumb back into the comforts of his words. His beautiful lies. “Do you promise?” Shaky hand moved to brush through Jungkook’s hair.

His gaze flickered up to meet her glossy one, giving her a soft smile. “I promise.” Jungkook looked back down at her belly caressing her skin through the clothing. “I’ll always keep you happy.”

Belle bit down her bottom lip to suppress the sob being forced out of her, closing her eyes shut tightly to stop the tears but they merely created constellations on the womans’ lashes. Letting out a small sigh she relaxed into his touch, struggling to swallow down the lump in her throat.

Quickly for one of the final times Belle forced herself to stretch a smile across her lips.

I’m not happy.

-

Cheeks finally cooled down as Yoongi leaned back on the chair of his temporary bedroom, dark as the thick curtains perfectly shielded him from the sunlight. Fingers scratched at the fabric of the armrest not thinking of anything in particular but merely drowning in an empty zone away from reality just for a few moments. He grew accustomed to this feeling after seeing one too many dead bodies of children.

Two knocks rapped on the door before it opened to reveal the senior maid, Nana. “Hello, Master Osamu.” She smiled closing the door behind her and walking further inside to do her usual cleaning starting with fixing his bed up.

Yoongi made it himself but unfortunately not the way that it was usually designed to fit the aesthetic of the house since most of the fancy cushions were on the floor. “Sorry I’ll—” He tried to get up from the chair.

“No no it’s okay. This is my job after all.” Nana chuckled picked up all the cushions and threw them onto the bed to make it easier for her to organize them.

The younger male smiled and relaxed back onto the seat with a light sigh.

“You did well. Helping Mistress Belle like that.” She muttered placing all the bigger pillows close to the headboard then the medium ones just afterwards.

Yoongi chuckled nervously observing her actions and how effortlessly she put everything in place when it took his entire soul to neaten the blanket. “What’re friends for?” He pressed his lips together in a thin line.

Nana smirked, fluffing the larger pillows. “Just friends?”

Eyes widened at the sudden change of tone from the older female making him stammer a little as he spoke.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, boy.” She continued speaking casually while wiping off the collected on the side lamp. “This isn’t just an undercover mission anymore and you know it.”

Yoongi could have sworn his core shivered hearing those words so easily fall from Nana’s lips without a damn care in the world. Glancing over at the door of his bedroom, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “How did you—”

“I raised Jungkook, you think I wouldn’t be able to see a rat under my nose?” Nana continued to keep her gaze anywhere but the younger male pretending like they were either having a regular conversation or none at all since Yoongis’ tongue seemed to lose its purpose. “Don’t get so scared. I don’t rat police officers out, you’re doing the right thing.” She neatened up Yoongis’ things on the nightstand. “Every king needs to be taught that they can crumble just as easily as a servant.”

Once everything stood in order, Nana stood in front of the male with a bright smile. “And every servant knows when to help the right people. I clean Jungkooks’ office too.” She gave him a bow and turned on her heel to leave the room.

Needless to say Yoongi was heavily reminded of how Namjoon and him were not the only ones who wanted an end to Jungkooks’ reign.

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[intotherumiverse]

Chapter 1

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I’m here again because this project is my child. I’ve added a lot and learned even more and I’m glad y’all are here to watch me develop On to the diggers <3 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: blood, violence, pov changes  ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ: @katsumiiii and @lilsparkyswife ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.9k 

The day I was first killed was tedious.  

When you’re raised in the Summer Court, certain traditions are found there. When you are five you receive your first dagger. I almost hit my lessons teacher in the eye with that little stunt I pulled. When you are 10 they start with basic strength, endurance, and speed training. I beat up Katsuki Bakugou for making fun of me that year. When you’re really curious, they take you up for assassination training. I was a prodigy at it…

I got so good in fact that I climbed the ranks at the young tender age of 18. Summer Court likes tradition, yes, but I was something unprecedented, unorthodox. Something bigger.

Working for the Summer Court had its perks, yes. This was one of them. As I walked among the snakes of the Autumn Court, I felt a curl of unease flow through me. Yvonne, the one who usually handles our information, said that our biggest client’s rival was supposed to be at the ball. As if that makes my life any easier. Everyone wanted someone from the Autumn Court dead. But no one wanted to be seen doing it. Looking at the throng of people, laughing and talking amongst themselves, I smirk slightly.

‘Autumn Court sure has a lot of balls.’ I thought to myself snidely. ‘ I wonder what they could be celebrating this time’ Before I had time to dwell on the thought any longer, the familiar voice of one of my good friends (not to mention on my team) Amira trickles through.

“Why does everyone in this Autumn Court look bummy?” The rude question isn’t uncommon for Amira, though I wish she chose her moments.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that out loud!”Mina, another teammate (and good friend) jokes.

Stifling up a laugh, and not wanting to attract attention, I whisper back “If both of you don’t shut the fuck up...”

“This is why I don’t work with them” Yvonne sighs into the mic. She was the best informant Summer Court has ever had, and I was always grateful she was on my team. “They never take shit seriously.”

“Neither do you, Von, shut up!”

“Swear to Nyx if y’all don’t shut up, we can leave right now.”

“Fine…” they all chorus in my ear and I hear silence for the first time.

My eyes scan the crowd of people carefully, assessing each one before seeing my target. But before I could move into place, a flash of green appeared at the corner of my eye.

“Oh fuck no…”

I hated many things. The horrid smell of rotting flesh, bugs, failing my parents. But above all else, I hated a specific person. And if he’s here tonight…

Well, it would make my life harder.

Sighing softly, I weave slowly through the crowd, not letting the clammy bodies touch me. Eventually, I make my way down to the main floor. Making sure that my ears were covered, I attempted to get closer to the target, feeling for the poison that was in the many pockets of the dress.

I feel someone touch my shoulder lightly and it takes everything in me to not grab the person’s arm and twist it. Instead, I turn around slowly, facing to meet lavender eyes.

Fuck. Hitoshi Shinsou, Autumn Court’s Master Interrogator. If he was here, then…

“A dance m’lady?” He doesn’t seem to recognize me as he stoops into a low bow, eyes scanning my face

“Oh, he's kinda cute!” Mira whispers into the com.

“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new?” His voice breaks through the mumble of the communicator.

“Well, I’m certainly not old.” That incites a chuckle from him.

“A lady with secrets, my favorite kind.” I scan the floor seeing the target get farther and farther away. I needed to get out of this situation and out of here.

“The dance?” I quirk my lips up into a smile.

And with that, we dance. He wasn’t a terrible dancer, spinning me ‘round the floor with a grace that only the Upper Ranks could achieve. I let myself get caught up in the dance, losing myself in the flow of the music.

“(Y/n). The mission” Yvonne’s voice echoes in my ear as I’m snapped back to reality. Right, the mission.

I suddenly pretended Shinsou stepped on my foot. Bending over in faux agony and forcing tears to come to my eyes, Shinsou fumbles at my pain. I feel a small pang of guilt, looking at his distressed face.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He leads me over to a small sitting area, not a far distance from my target. Watching Shinsou get lost in the crowd I make my move.

I walked over, inching closer and closer to my target. There was a glass of ale his hand was resting on, delicate fingers winding around the glass. Pulling a small pill from one of the many pockets of my dress, I place it carefully into the glass. Making my way back across the room, I watch as my target drinks the ale ‘till it’s empty to my original position.

‘Spring Court has its uses’, I thought smiling to myself.

“All right, This is an Upper-Rank Investigation!”

Oh, come the fuck on.  And right when I was leaving too.

A male voice rings out in the middle of the confused court members. I recognized that voice…

“(Y/n), get out of there!” Mina says into the communicator.   “Working on it.” Shit. Why were Upper-Rank boot lickers here? Shit, this was bad, I needed to get out of there.

I back away from the door slowly, trying not to bring attention to myself. A  hand came out and gripped the back of my arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, Summer Court scum” the hot and familiar voice of Shinsou rings in my ear. I grit my teeth, fearing to say anything due to their power.

He rips the comm from my ear, and upon hearing the cries from my friends, crushes it

“We have suspicion to believe that a Summer Court Assassin is here. Nobody moves, this will take a couple of minutes.”

And then I see him. The bane of my existence, everything in me sings in disgust and anger, as I try not to lunge at him. Izuku Midoriya. The heir to the Autumn throne. And my worst nightmare.

“No need,” Shinsou calls out, a smirk gracing his features. “I got ‘er right here”

His cold green eyes bore into me as he smiles. “There she is! My favorite assassin (Y/n)! It’s good to see you again honey.” His voice was like syrup, undoubtedly sticky and sweet. The heady sound of hypnosis.

“Seize her guards! We finally got the infamous (Y/n), top assassin of the Summer court.”  The guards move hesitantly like they were afraid. I hope so because they should be. Then everything happens all I once. I pull myself out of Shinsou’s grip, running towards the exit, which happens to be, in front of me.

“Lucky me,” I smile unsheathing the concealed daggers slipping them into my hands “Looks like the Prince brought me toys to play with.”

Oh, how I missed fighting. The rush of dodging and weaving never knowing if my next move is going to be my last. The feel of the blades in my hands as I cut down opponents, watching their terrified faces fall to the ground one by one. It fills me with so much strength knowing that I’m so much better than them.

And then my leg got nicked. The sharp sting of pain de-railing my train of thought.

“Fuck,” I yelled out loud as more soldiers descended upon me. They threw my daggers away from me first, restraining my wrists and upper arm for no movements. They forced me to my knees, and I look around at the now-empty ballroom. The heavy smell of iron and salt dancing in the air as the blood of the fallen soldiers surround me. I wasn't squeamish, but I didn't really want to ruin my dress.

Footsteps echo towards me, the clanking of boots reverbing in my head. A gloved hand grips my chin, forcing me to look up. Green eyes bore into mines. “Hi love,” Izuku smiles at my grimace at the nickname. “Quite a mess you’ve made of my soldiers. Now, look at the extra work you’ve given me. They were good people. Honest. And now-”

“None of us are honest,” I spit the words at him “You know that better than me.”

“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. Now here’s the deal, pet. I will have to take you in now. You have made quite a name for yourself and have to turn you in. Nothing personal”

“With you? Everything’s personal.”

Letting go of my chin, Izuku stands once more.

“You might be right (Y/n). You’ll have a lot of time to reflect in your jail cell. Now sleep.” That was the last thing I heard before my eyes grew heavy and I fell asleep.

Mira’s Pov

I rip the communicator from my ear in anger, slamming the tiny black device onto the table.

“Taking your anger out on our stuff isn’t going to make (Y/n) come back.”

I look over to the blank face of Von, rolling my eyes. (Y/n) got caught and by our intel (and the fact the Hitoshi Shinsou was there) were knew that the Autumn Court had taken her. And now the issue was how we were going to get her back.

“I mean,” Mina’s voice pops up, the small twinge of hope laced throughout her words. “Why can’t we just go in and take her back?”

“Because Summer isn’t really on good terms with Autumn”

“Are we really on good terms with anyone?” Summer Court’s standing had always been rocky with the others. We were always called the lowest, doing everyone’s dirty job, but in fact, we knew more about the other Courts than everyone else. People fear what they don’t understand and hate what they fear.

But these last few years, Autumn’s seemed to have a personal grudge with us. No one knew the exact details but it was something involving (Y/n) and the prince of Autumn.

“They’d kill us on the spot if they knew who we were” Von’s voice cuts in through my thoughts.

“But don’t they realize they kidnapped the princess? This is asking for war!” Mina was right. If (Y/n) got hurt it wouldn’t just be her parents that got mad.

“Who’s going to tell Bakugou?” I ask softly. The van is quiet as we all debated internally.

“Well, I’m not doing it. I actually like living and being here. You can fight it over if you two have a death wish.”

I shake my head at Von, signaling that I won’t do it either. Bakugou’s temper was infamous and when it comes to people he loves, there was no telling what he would do.

“Fuck y’all. Now I have to go deal with the dumbass wrecking ball. If I get hurt, y’all gonna pay Spring Court to heal me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you dodge fast enough, or you’ll actually get hurt.” Mina gives me a small smile in sympathy.

Sighing I head to the front of the car. We had to make it back before Autumn found us too. I’d never hear the end of it from the king if we also got caught.

And with that, we drive off, chaos awaiting us in the Summer Court.

onto the next chapter?

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[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

The Golden Hand

° Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Imagine °

Chapter 4

Fem! Reader

Central Masterlist | The Golden Hand

You gazed upon the piece of parchment as though it had told you the ugliest truth. Your brows furrowed and wrinkled as your eyes displayed the world’s most intense confusion. 

Just what the hell did Alexios write?!

Allow me to explain, you had woken just a few minutes ago. Your legs sore from yesterday’s horseback riding and your eyes swollen from a night’s crying session. It was only after you had searched all over the house and near fields that you came to the conclusion that your only guide had gone off, most likely either in search of new employment or finishing one. 

You sighed, “Most likely it just says he’ll be back by ---what? Sundown? Yeah, sounds reasonable enough.” You spoke to no one but yourself. 

Situating yourself back onto your bed, you allowed yourself to relax. Leaning your back onto the cold stone wall with your eyes closed, you took a deep breath in. The memories of the day before still fresh in your mind. You could still hear their screams...the pain in that little girl’s voice as she cried out for her parents to come and save her.

“Argh!” You yelled, dragging your hand down your face as you forced yourself to push down the knot that was quickly forming at the back of your throat. 

“Alexios?” You jumped at the sound of a new voice. Peeking through the spaces of your fingers, you caught sight of a familiar young girl standing by the doorway. A small smile playing on her lips as she entered, “Ah! You are the pretty lady from before! Uhh...” You felt the ends of your lip contort upwards into a smile of your own upon hearing the innocent compliment. You quickly added, “(Y/n).” 

“Yes (Y/n) --- wait, you have such a strange name. Are you not from here?” You chuckled, “No, no I am not. And you are Phoibe.” She nodded, “Then where are you from?” Thinking your answer over, you decided that being vague was your best friend, “I am from a land very far away. Now, you are looking for Alexios, no?” Phoibe nodded her head once more, “Yes, have you seen him?” Shifting over so that you sat at the very edge of the bed, you shook your head. A small frown hanging low on your lips, “No, but he did leave this. Are you able to read it?” You grabbed the parchment before handing it over to the brunette. Skimming over it, Phoibe quickly responded with, “Sorry but I can’t read. But it most likely says that he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh. Well, okay then.” A silence bloomed between the two of you. It was somewhat of an awkward sort considering that you had just quite actually met if one were to exclude the events of the day before. It was then that the young child called for your attention once more. 

“You are not familiar with Kephallonia, right?” She asked. An excited look in her eyes. Narrowing your own slightly, you slowly nodded your head, “No I am not...why?” The child grinned.

“Would you like to go on an adventure with me?”

...

“Malakas!” Exclaimed the seasoned warrior in annoyance. The palm of his hand slapping the skin of his forehead as he sighed in exasperation. Arching a single brow, Barnabas leaned closer to his newfound friend and companion. His eyes posing the question his mouth offered to ask.

“What seems to be the matter, Alexios?” The older male inquired.

Sighing once more, the Spartan gazed back upon him, “I have committed the stupidest mistake. I shall be traveling with another and so I had left for them a message on a piece of parchment; however, it has just dawned on me that they most likely do not know how to read the language. What an idiot I am!” Barnabas roared in laughter. His calloused hands coming to grip the cloth on his stomach as he desperately tried to compose himself. All which earned him a mighty stern glare from Alexios himself.

“Do not laugh at me!” The man cried before soon he, too, began to chuckle at his own stupidity.

“Ah, Alexios, I am enjoying this friendship more than I thought I would; however, do tell me of this companion of yours,” Barnabas said, continuing to walk along the path to Sami’s Harbor where the Adrestia was docked.

“There is not much to tell. I had only met them two nights ago.” His words earned him a reaction from the other, “Two nights ago and you decide to sail with them?” “I met you not a minute ago and I am sailing with you.” Alexios retorted, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Barnabas chuckled, “Quite true. Why are you to sail with them, may I ask?” This question, however, was briefly answered with a moment of silence as Alexios pondered how to word his actual answer. Perhaps it was better to avoid the truth for now and only speak partly of it.

“She saved my life, and in return, she asks for me to take her home,” Alexios answered at last.

“Oh? A woman?” Alexios nodded, “Yes. I owe her my life. Although, I know not of the ways to get her home.” The silver-haired probed, “And why’s that?” 

Licking his lips, the misthios gazed upon the nearing vessel that was to be his ship, “Let’s just say, she is quite far from home.”

...

You never would have thought that when Phoibe mentioned an adventure, that the adventure would mean walking all across the main island. Like damn, your feet really hurt. It’s genuinely unbelievable how the people walk miles in literal sandals. Panting heavily, you watched with tired eyes as Phoibe continued to move forth with grand energy. 

“Hurry (Y/n)! I have to finish this adventure so that Markos can give me another!” The scrawny little girl exclaimed, climbing over some well-sized boulders not too far from where you had taken a rest stop.

“If...you’d had informed me that this...adventure was actually just you running...errands---ugh, how I miss my bed.” You cried.

Rolling her eyes, Phoibe jumped off from the large rock and instead jumped onto your figure. Groaning loudly as your body stumbling backward with the additional sudden weight, “Phoibe...!” In the spur of a moment, she turned around and began to run down one of the forks in the path, yelling, “I’ll be back!”

You went to chase after her, shouting out her name in protest for her to come back, but unfortunately, her small body allowed her to be faster. And so, soon enough, her figure fell out of sight and you were, once again, left alone and to your own devices.

How swell.

Taking a moment to calm down the painful drumming of your heart, you groaned as you shifted your weight to your other foot. The feeling of pins and needles digging into the flesh of your foot being too great for you. You seriously needed to rest somewhere. And it had to be NOW.

Quickly moving towards the boulders, you threw yourself onto the one closest to your height, a sigh of pure instant relief escaping past your lips. You stayed there for a moment, slowing down your breathing to a proper pace. You breathed the fresh sea air into the depths of your diaphragm, allowing our blood to enrich itself with precious oxygen before breathing out the remainder. You could feel yourself instantly loosen up. The tension in your shoulder’s soon disappearing away as if they had never been there in the first place. 

It was in this brief moment of peace that your thoughts became muddied with worry and conflict. Yesterday plagued your mind unlike any other memory you stored. It was strange, you know? The fact that you tore yourself apart at the remembrance of how you sent a family to their deaths whilst you bore almost no remorse for the man you helped kill upon your arrival. Was it because you did it in an effort to save someone? Is that why you felt nothing about it? But then again, you didn’t really send that family to their deaths...wait, but by doing nothing, you did. 

Is this really the right time to question your mor-

“Oh my, I must say that such a horrid expression is quite unbefitting of such a beauty much like yourself my dear.” You snapped your gaze up to the face of man you were unfamiliar with. There stood man, much older than you, wearing a look of curious upon his aged features. A gentle smirk sitting about his shaven face as his eyes sparkled with the faintest glint of intrigue. You had to admit, something about him didn’t sit quite as well as you had hoped with you. In your eyes, he was much like a snake. Hidden in the grass and ready to bite.

You smiled bashfully, “Thank you...?” “Elpenor. I hope you do not mind the sudden intrude, it’s just that to see such a lovely creature as yourself with a look so conflicted as that was quite troubling to me. People who have been blessed by the goddess Aphrodite should always bear a fruitful smile.”

...did this motherfucker really just tell you that you would look better with a smile but just in a more eloquent and polite manner? 

Huh.

You huffed at his words, “I wouldn’t go that far but, nonetheless, I thank you for your kind words Elpenor.” He smiled at your humbleness.

“Might I intrude some more and ask for your name?” You smiled, “I don’t see the harm, my name is (Y/n).” You introduced, presenting your hand to shake his own but only to have the male guide the appendage to his lips, which he used to lay a gentle kiss upon the skin of your hand.

Oh. Okay. Right. 

H u h.

“It is a pleasure to have met such divinity,” You could not help the flushing of your cheeks as he continued to compliment you. Not when he spoke them with such apparent truth. His voice honeyed as to deflect any doubt of his true nature, you noted. He continued, “Judging by the weariness in your gaze, I am held to believe that you are quite tired from your travels. Perhaps you would like to accompany me...?” He gestured over to behind him. It was then that you noticed the small carriage that stood not too far, the coachmen looking away from the two of you.

“Oh. Wow. I did not see that...how...” Chuckling amusedly at your surprised expression, he repeated, “How will you answer?” 

Now I know your mother always told you don’t talk to strangers and most importantly don’t get in the car with strangers but you could say the situation was rather different right now. 

Thinking back to your blistering feet, you made your decision instantly. Grabbing his hand, he smiled joyously as he led you to the entrance of the wooden carriage, helping you up the steps before joining you. He sat across from you, the beautiful purple fabric he wore bundling into his lap.

And as the carriage began to move you realized something.

Where the actual fuck am I going?

...

(A/N): Got a sudden spur of inspiration lol. 

Hope you enjoyed!

[marchioness-caprina]

Saving Senpai

Pairings : Senpai! Tamaki x Kohai! Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warnings : Mild Cussing , Watch out for Dadzawa (:3

Word Count : 2527

3rd Person's POV

Ah Yes Valentine's Day. The Day Girls give chocolates to Express their love and The Day Unpopular boys dread in complete jealousy and bitterness. So much for a fun activity.

The Day Tamaki greatly Despised.

One Indigo haired Male though was utterly speechless when Girls flooded towards him Trying to Hand him Chocolates and some even screaming how much they like him.

Now Tamaki was not used to things Like this at All. In fact he never interacted much with people because of his social anxiety. This caused the Male to Tremble backing towards the Wall as Panic Flooded his system.

His Anxiety Level went off the roof and he couldn't even form any words. Where was Hado and Mirio when you needed them!?.

His legs began to wobble and his hands were sweaty and clammy, he felt dizzy and he was starting to hyperventilate. He was about to pass out. He was definitely going to Pass out.

' Can someone Please Come and Save me! ' he yelled in his mind as the girls closed in on him.

There was definitely No escape this Time.

But as If the Heavens Heard his prayers. Someone did come to his rescue.

" Hey! You guys! Look! It's Almight! " A girl with h/c hair shouted pointing at the other direction of the halls and those girls who were crowding him turned their heads towards the direction the girl was pointing.

The Girls were Distracted and the h/c haired girl immediately squeezed her way through the crowd grabbing the dumbfounded indigo haired male and he was swept away from this horrid scene with the girl dragging him through the halls taking sharp turns and when they were in an empty room she let go of his hands.

Tamaki was in a daze. In his own little world because he had never seen someone.... Someone this heroic and attractive at the same time. The way her hair bounced while they were running, How her brows furrowed when she was irritated, how she bit her lip in anticipation. It was adorable and now that they were in an empty room. He felt her hand let go of his and the sudden loss of touch actually pained him. He wanted to feel the softness of her hand again... Her warmth .

" Hey, Senpai? Are you ok? " Y/n asked waving her hand around to see if the male would react. The girl thought that the poor boy must be traumatized after that but little did she know that Tamaki was still in the process of falling for her even more.

" I... I-I'm... F-Fine... " He stuttered out his lips shaking.

" I'm glad you're fine! Hahaha, I was walking through the halls and saw that you were clearly uncomfortable so I thought I'd help you out or something. " The girl explained while her eyes met his.

Her eyes pierced his very soul, they look so big and so mesmerizing Tamaki could drown in them if he keeps gazing back at her.

" T-thanks... I.... I appreciate it... I just didn't know... How to handle... Things... Like that " Tamaki stated looking down on the floor .

" Don't you remember me? I'm from Class 1-A ! Well I can pretty much guess why you didn't remember me since you had your face against the wall the whole time " Y/n chuckled and Tamaki was sent in another mode of panic. She was in that class!? He must have made himself look like a fool infront of her! Damn his stupid self for giving her a horrible first impression.

" I... I'm Sorry " Tamaki mumbled his eyes darling everywhere avoiding her eyes at all cost. His face lighting up in embarrassment, he can't face her! Not after she saw him at his most pathetic state! .

" Senpai don't apologize. Everyone has weaknesses.... And I think yours are pretty Cute... Just like you " The girl complimented and flashed him a toothy grin that sent Tamaki's heart on overdrive.

Did she just compliment him? Did she just say she thought he was cute?!. That made Tamaki's heart pounded at a very alarming rate as his eyes darted back to hers to see if she was lying but he was met with the brightest and most beautiful grin he had ever saw.

" U-um.... I-.... I.... Umm.. " Damn it Of all the times he couldn't form words it has to be now! Why is the world so against him!?.

" You're Adorable Senpai, But I have to Go. Aizawa sensei will be mad if I arrive late Bye~" Y/n smiled and turned to leave but unexpectedly Tamaki's Hand darted towards her holding her arm in place.

Y/n glanced back in surprise and was met by a very red Tamaki, he looked as surprised as she was.

' Oh my god what have I done!? Why did I do that!? What do I do?! Oh no... I can't speak... Words please come out! Why do I keep embarrassing myself infront of her!? '

Those were the thoughts in Tamaki's head, he kept cursing himself to speak but it was no use.

His hand still clutching on her arm his eyes reluctantly meeting hers, his hands shaking and he tried. He really tried to let go of her hand but his body seemed to have a mind of his own.

Once his eyes were once again trapped in her gaze Tamaki saw the questioning look she gave him, Tamaki's words were caught in his throat and those very words seemed to die once they reach his mouth and no sounds could be heard.

Opening his mouth to at least try to say something but it was futile, his lips only wobbled and quivered as sweat began to form on his forehead.

Then y/n's questioning look turned to a bemused expression .

Tamaki flinched as more thoughts flooded his minds.

' Now she'll think I'm a coward! Or even worst a creep! She'll laugh at me.... She'll make Fun of me! '

Tamaki gulped closing his mouth and squeezing his eyes shot preparing himself for the insults or the laughter about to be thrown his way and he was right.

Tamaki heard y/n's melodic laughter that was so pleasant to hear but it would have been better if he wasn't in this situation where y/n could possibly be thinking that he's pathetic.

His heart faltered at the thought that she could be making fun of him. But all those thoughts were crushed immediately when Tamaki felt a pair of lips peck his own.

His eyes shot open to see y/n leaned so close against his face that they were only a few inches apart.

" Did.... D-Did y-y-ou just--" Tamaki stuttered but he was cut off when y/n gave him another peck that was too short for his liking but her lips for him is like heaven.

" Yes... I did... Senpai we'll be late, I'll see you soon Ok? " Y/n chuckled as Tamaki's hand slowly released his grasp on her arm to which y/n appreciated.

His thoughts were clashing with one another. His heart was about to burst, his face couldn't get any redder. And by now steam could be coming out of his ears.

" Thanks... Bye senpai! " Y/n bid her goodbye but before that she leaned in to give the Indigo haired male another peck before dashing out of the empty room.

" Her... Lips... Were so... Soft... Warm... Gentle... " Tamaki muttered as the image of her pecking his lips kept on replaying in his mind and then he couldn't take it anymore. It was too overwhelming.

He passed out.

_____________________

Luckily the moment Tamaki Passed Out Mirio had accidentally passed through the walls and he found his Friend lying unconscious on the floor.

Mirio brought Tamaki to Recovery Girl's Clinic and Recovery stated that Tamaki was fine. He may have fainted because of being too nervous.

Meanwhile in Class 1-A y/n was being punished by Aizawa Sensei because she was Late.

" But this is just my first offense! " Y/n argued but her teacher only shot her a glare that shit her up immediately.

" Ughhh" Y/n groaned in her seat while Mina rubbed her back comfortingly.

" Jeez, where have you been anyway? " Mina asked and y/n gave her a playful grin.

" Saving the Senpai prince from his wicked admirers " Y/n answered and Mina gave her a questioning look.

" What---"

" Mina! Y/n! , If I hear you talking again you two are getting in trouble " Aizawa sensei growled and the two girls immediately sat straight shaking.

____________ Lunch Time

" Tamaki What happened exactly? I found you passed out in an empty room earlier. Are you sure you're fine?" Mirio asked to which Tamaki averted his eyes his cheeks turning red as he recalled the past events .

" I-I'm Fine " Tamaki answered and Mirio decided to drop it.

When they reached the Cafeteria Tamaki's eyes we're darting every where . His eyes searching for the Kohai who saved him earlier.

He was so busy looking for her he didn't notice his gaze turned intimidating and intense affecting almost everyone in the area, some students even avoided him like the plagued and Mirio had been calling his attention for the last 2 minutes.

" Tamaki! " Mirio yelled this time catching Tamaki's attention bit that's not the only attention Mirio also caught the attention of those girls who tried forcing their chocolates on Tamaki earlier.

" G-gah!? " Tamaki gasped when he was once again crowded by raging fangirls trying to get him to accept their gifts.

" W-woah! " Mirio was pushed aside by the fangirls and Nejire was fast enough to avoid being stomped by them.

Tamaki didn't know what to do and now he was in a foul mood because he didn't hey to see his little Kohai y/n.

The whole cafeteria was in an uproar by the squealing girls.

" Don't you Think it's a Little Rude to Give Chocolates to a Boy who already belongs to someone else? " That sentence was enough to silence everyone in the Cafeteria.

Tamaki recognized that voice. That sweet voice, but at the same time heat rose up to his cheeks.

Y/n had sneakily managed to sneak up behind Tamaki as she glared at his fangirls . Her eyes were glaring yet she was smiling . But not a friendly smile, a sadistic and sinister smile that made the fangirls shiver.

" Sorry girls, He's Taken, He's Mine " Y/n announced as her Arms snaked their way around Tamaki's Torso hugging him from behind as she tilted her head to the side to look at Tamaki's Fangirls.

Tamaki's heart beat was beyond what the heart monitor could read his face flushed feeling two small arms wrap around him. Her touch was intoxicating.

Looking down at the girl who was embracing him from behind he suddenly managed to gather all his courage to place his hand on her hand as he leaned down to kiss y/n's head.

" A-and.... You're Mine Too" Tamaki mumbled but because of how hard everyone was listening they heard it loud and clear.

Y/n sent one last glare to those fangirls and they were gone before tamaki even knew it.

" Hehehe, I saved you Again Senpai. Now I'll let you go now " Y/n chuckled as she slowly let go of her hold around him but she was stopped by tamaki holding onto both of her arms and pulled her closer against his back as he personally guided her arms to wrap around him again.

" Don't... Not unless... Y-you say that y-you meant w-w-what you s-said earlier... I-if you didn't... T-that w-would be r-really mean.." Tamaki muttered .

" I... Because I meant what I said... When... I said you're mine too" He added making y/n widen her eyes.

Her own cheeks turning pink.

" Senpai... Of course I mean it... Only if you want me to" Y/n grinned and that made a smile creep up to Tamaki's lips.

" Of course I... I want you to... You're mine... Right?... And... C-can you stay with me... During lunch? T-they might come back again" Tamaki stuttered making y/n laugh.

" Of course I will, We gotta show them you're mine right? And I'm yours" Y/n cooed .

" Get a Fucking room you fuckers! " Came the obnoxious comment from Bakugou.

And that's when the two finally noticed that everyone was looking at them the whole time.

Y/n and Tamaki immediately jumped away from each other. Tamaki banging his head on the wall due to embarrassment and y/n covering her face in her palms while Mina and the rest of the Class 1-A girls comforted and teased her.

Suddenly the whole room erupted in cheers and loud claps saying that they were a really nice couple.

" Hey y/n I didn't know you got it in you! " Denki teased making y/n give him a punch in the guts.

" Zip it! " She growled but after seeing the teasing looks of her classmates she immediately retreated back to covering her face with her hands.

" Wow! Tamaki! Already getting the girls huh? " Mirio laughed patting Tamaki's back.

" You got a pretty good catch! She's a beauty! And she packs a punch! " Nejire cheered joining Mirio in patting an embarrassed Tamaki.

" Aww, who knew an embarrassed y/n could be so Cute~ this is the first time I saw her like this " Mineta commented but his Comment earned him a glare from Tamaki.

Tamaki was already behind the girl, his hands placed possessively on y/n's shoulder a dark look plastered on his face as he glared down at mineta who. Cowered in fear.

" Scary " The boys muttered.

" What is going on here?! " Everyone turned to the entrance of the Cafeteria and Aizawa and Present Mic were standing there staring at everyone.

" Mic, what happened? You got here before me" Aizawa muttered.

"Yeahhh, it's just a sweet little showcase of affection from our very own Tamaki Amajiki and one of your Daughters in Class 1-A , Y/n L/n " Present Mic's voice boomed .

" Oh shit you're so screwed y/n" Mina chuckled

" Good luck with Dadzawa" Denki added.

" Y/n.... You're definitely getting detention... And No boys until you're 20 , and that goes for the rest of your Girls " Aizawa sensei threatened while pointing at the rest of the girls.

" Huh!? Why us too!? " Hagakure asked and Aizawa sensei's sharp and murderous glare was thrown their way.

" Am I hearing complaints? " Aizawa lowly growled squinting his eyes at the Girls and the his students Immediately shook their heads out of fear.

" What a Day "

[shooting-starry]

Trust me. Love me. Shoot me.

Atsumu Miya x female reader

Summary: Atsumu finds himself with a young woman who is more that what she seems.

A/n: I had zero motivation to day to write this but please enjoy!? As always, please don’t repost! To support me please like or reblog. Also!! Send me a request if you want to be added to the tags list for this series!

Y/n= your name

L/n= Your last name

Y/h/c= your hair colour

Y/e/c= your eye colour

Warning: extremely unedited, mentioned blood, mentioned fire, burning, medical stuff, needles

Previous//Next

Atsumu woke up with the warm  morning sun spilling through the window, and the fresh morning air cascaded through the open window. There was no pain in his body and his head was light. His head was lying on a soft, plush pillow and the silk sheets were smooth against his skin. Everything was fine.

Well almost fine. The only problem was that he didn’t own any silk sheets. He had scratchy cotton ones. In alarm, Atsumu sat up straight and looked around the somewhat familiar room. He was is a room with lightly coloured walls and a few plants which hung from the ceiling. Beside the door was a body length mirror with two coat hooks beside it. Next to where he sat was a beige bedside table with two drawers and a single daisy in a small glass jar and 2 doors which he guessed led to the closet. Directly across from him was a  desk with a small stack of books, a spiral bounded notebook, and a few pens, along with a girl, L/n. She had her nose in a book. Her eyes following the line she was reading. Her face was relaxed, but scrunched in displeasure, or maybe anticipation, at the book in front of her. Her nimble fingers flipped the page. As she kept reading, her eyebrows scrunched and her mouth fell open in surprise, or maybe hatred or shock,  at the new page. That was a beautiful expression that she wore.

Astumu didn’t want to admit it, but she was beautiful. Her face was doll-like, giving her the illusion of youth, but her eyes showed much more maturation and pain, but held kindness and love. Her lips looked soft and sweet, and were especially beautiful when she pulled her mouth into a wide smile. Her hair looked elegant however it fell around her face, or maybe she would look more breathtaking with her hair up. It beautifully framed her face, and made her y/e/c eyes stand out. L/n’s voice was also beautiful. It was melodic and sweet, but could also held the intensity of a thousand dagger. Her laugh would sound nice too. Maybe it would be a light chuckle. Or maybe a breathy laugh where she would crinkle her nose. Or if her laugh was a belly laugh full of life and happiness. That would be lovely. Astumu watched as her face contorted to many different emotions, surprise, hate, confusion. But it made him sad that her face was almost always neutral. Emotionless.

Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked the man with dark hair and metallic blue eyes. He was very tall and was decently built. His eyes scanned the room taking inventory of the situation. L/n looked up from her book and gave him a discreet nod.

“Hello L/n-san. Anything new?” He asked. His voice was smooth and empty. His eyes, and L/n’s shifted to Atsumu. He felt like a monkey in a zoo enclosure, with everyone watching him as he flung his feces at the wall. He watched as L/n and the dark haired man had a conversation though eye contact, head movements and face expressions. The “conversation” mainly consistent of L/n rolling her eyes and the man angrily raising his eyebrows.

“Well do you have a plan for that ?” L/n said finally, breaking the silence, but adding to the tension within the small room. At least Astumu knew that the mystery man’s wasn’t a potential danger.

“Well Y/n we need to take care of Miya-san first. For all we know you would have brought a wanted criminal into our house! How do you think the rest of us will react?” The man yell at her. L/n kept her face straight. No sign of any emotions covered her face and her eyes became more intense, almost like a tiger ready to kill.

“I am going to say it once. This is my house. I will decide when things happen and how things will happen. I decided to help someone who was dying on the street, and you don't get to judge my kindness. Not after what happened at the train station!" she stated with a calm icy tone, book long forgotten on the desk. The room was noticeably colder and Atsumu was feeling unsure of what was happening. The tall man stood, face unmoved, but behind his eyes showed something more. Something about the train station bugged him. He didn't speak or move, but his compliance was displayed through his eyes. He walked out wordlessly and shut the door behind him. Astumu was still in shock. Not sure if it was the situation in general, or maybe it was the amount of power L/n held.

“So how are you feeling, Miya-san?” She asked, breaking Atsumu from his thoughts. Her voice back to the sweet voice he remembered from the day before.

“Am fine, what just happened?” Her inquired curiously, hoping to get an answer. The mysterious man gave Atsumu many question, and not a single answer.

“Well Miya-san, I think you are forgetting our deal. You said you would tell me everything, and so far you haven’t. So if you could please tell me, then go ahead.” She replied in a teasing manner. Astumu tensed at her light hearted tone. The stark contrast between her light-hearted tone now and the cold tone from just minutes ago made his skin crawl. The eagerness was written on her face as she sat cross legged in the chair across from him.

“Well it’s complicated. Ya see, we were gonna ambush a rival yakuza. But they saw us comin’ and fought us back. A got hit a few times, then someone lit the building on fire. I ran out, then I ended up here.” He said, recalling the events of that night. He remembered the scent of blood, both his and the people around him, and the gasoline, and the horrid screams of people in the fire as their bodies burned. He was lucky that he got out. He wondered about his closest acquaintances, Kita, Suna, and Aran. But also his twin brother, Osumu. Damn how could this happen? If anything happened to them, then it would be his fault. All because of his recklessness. Snapping  out of his thoughts, he looked at L/n who was in deep thought. Her forehead was crinkled and her eyes seemed to be seeing right through him.

After what could have been only five minutes, she got up quietly and walked towards the closet. Inside the closet was an artillery of medical supplies. Multiple boxes of gloves and masks, along with a small fridge that held many small bottles of drugs. There were also a crash cart with everything that could be sues in an emergency, a defibrillator, a breathing bag, a tracheotomy kit and tubes. There were also about 3 oxygen tanks with small carts. She rummaged around in the closet until she got out some bandages and a small suture kit with a pair of needle drivers and toothed forceps along with a few other tools Atsumu could not recognize. Then L/n grab a small vile of drug and a needle from another part of the closet. She walk towards Atsumu, tools in hand as he watched curiously. As she go to the bed side table, she injected the needle into the vile which Astumu could now read as “morphine” and carefully pulled back the piston until there was maybe 5 milligrams of morphine. She grabbed his left arm and injected it into his bicep. Then she grabbed his left leg and removed the bandages from his leg. At first, he was questioning his lack of pants, before he remembered the “incident”. As your hands nimbly unwrap the bandage, the stench from his leg escaped into the room, causing him to plug him nose, but L/n seemed unaffected as she unwrapped the bandages. Once the bandages were removed she walked to the small garbage can beside the foot of the bed, which he did not notice, which was already half full of bloody bandages and the sweatpants from earlier. L/n carefully inspected the neatly done stitches, making sure there was no sign of the wound reopening. Once she was sure there was no sign of reopening or infection, she rewrapped the leg in new clean bandages.

“Thank you for the information Miya-san, you will need to rest so your wounds don’t reopen or become worse. I will be back in a few hours so please don’t move and if you need anything please just scream.” She said curly before turning around and leaving before he could reply. Atsumu felt very confused, but he also felt drowsiness. “Maybe from the morphine” he thought before drifting off to sleep.

Sometime later, he woke up to hearing voices down the stairs. There were 3 male voices and L/n’s. They were murmuring urgently.

“L/n-san, we can’t let him stay here. It’s too dangerous. If they find us we will be killed. You know that.” Said the first voice, which sounded like the mystery man from earlier in the day.

“No Akaashi-san, it will be fine.” Replied another deeper voice. “I don’t see why not besides we could take care of anything that happens.”

“Why are you being kind to that lowly yakuza. It doesn’t fit your character.” Replied the first voice, which Atsumu now knew belonged to the mystery man, Akaashi.

“I am always this kind. Besides Akaashi, you are just overthinking it too much.” Said the deep voice again.

“Yeah ‘Kaashi, I agree with them” said another , “Even if they figure out that we were responsible for those incidents, they have no proof”.

“Exactly Akaashi-san,” you agreed, “And if he does anything, then I will take care of him”.

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