#Today's flavor is Disney Princess

[bleaksqueak]

Sometimes I check the ol' tumblr notes right before bed and see something that makes me laugh and guarantees I'll be doomed to think about that while I drift off.

[shintin]

Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 7 (Diablo)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine

Note: Beware, for this chapter delves into the realm of blood, gore, and dangerous behaviors.

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

Ninety-one days had passed since your arrival, each marking a change since reluctantly accepting Vash's offer of "friendship." Like within your confined existence, your cage had been expanded, granting you the limited freedom to venture beyond the walls of your room. Now, you could escape to the basement, where worn couches beckoned, accompanied by the flickering glow of an ancient CRT TV from a forgotten era. See? Fantastic! You were living in fairytales. Just like a fucking Disney princess. But a twisted one. Alas, the poisoned apple that would offer release remained out of reach, denied to you. No window to hell adorned this crypt-like domain, where your flowing locks could serve as a desperate escape route. Instead, you were left with the daunting task of perpetuating a charade, playing the role of a captive sleeping beauty trapped in the clutches of a formidable beast.

Too poetic, right? Fuck it!

And let's not forget about how you must be the most ungrateful bitch alive for complaining when your new bestie, Vash, occasionally graced you with his presence for a shared meal. Despite the gesture, conversations were superficial at best, revolving around banal topics like the weather or insipid inquiries about the quality of the food. Consequently, meals were typically consumed in silence unless Vash had a particular matter to discuss, leaving you with the role of a passive listener.

Because you had discovered that the majority of his sentences were intentionally crafted, and you made a firm commitment to yourself. You vowed not to allow him to deceive you anew with his clever words, determined to remain vigilant against his manipulative charm.

Charm, huh!

As the saying goes, you didn't provide him much in this fervently pursued friendship, yet he persisted regardless. Every time he visited, motherfucker arrived bearing gifts – be it a novel flavor of donuts, fresh garments, or a book intended to captivate your attention. You couldn't help but notice the intentional variety of genres in the books he presented. This left you with a sense that he was endeavoring to elicit a reaction from you in order to gain insight into your inner world.

But you would rather die than give him anything.

And then there were days like today's lunch, a departure from the norm; he appeared before you in a meticulously tailored black coat, exuding an air of opulence with its flawless texture and lustrous sheen. His ensemble was further enhanced by a black shirt and a crimson red vest adorned with regal patterns, resulting in a sleek and sophisticated appearance. However, despite this refined presentation, his silky black tie hung loosely around his neck, a visible symbol of his frustration. With a face etched with determination, he grappled with the delicate task of tying its knot, his fingers fumbling with the fabric as he attempted various techniques, all in vain. The scene was indeed amusing, as you found yourself engrossed in crafting origami ships out of folded napkins, observing his relentless struggle with a hint of lighthearted entertainment.

At times, he possessed a sweet, childlike quality. Although the thought of witnessing him inadvertently strangle himself brought some perverse entertainment, you learned from the guards that today marked the twins' birthday. Since when did monsters celebrate birthdays? With a resigned sigh, you let out a breath. Extending your hand, you retrieved the tie from him. Without uttering a word or offering commentary, he simply observed as you skillfully tied the knot on your knee before returning it to him. A seemingly perfect birthday gift, or so you hoped. Whatever! Fuck him!

Thank Gods he was silent today. He gazed at the tie momentarily, expressing gratitude before taking the plate full of origamis and bidding farewell with a smile, leaving the grand scene. Weird man!

After his footsteps had receded into silence, his subordinates diligently secured the door, taking utmost care as they locked it three times over.

It was probably before midnight when a sudden thump from above shattered the fragile tranquility of your restless sleep, wrenching you away from a state of hazy slumber that had enveloped your mind. As you blinked your eyes open, the closed door before you became the sole object of your attention, your gaze fixated on its faint outline while your mind struggled to process the startling sound.

Somehow, your heart raced ahead, the muscle beating rapidly within your chest, as a wave of unease caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. With caution, you gradually sat upright and slipped out from under the comforting embrace of the covers.

Adrenaline was coursing through your system now, instantly jolting you awake. A cloud of unease rolled in the pit of your stomach, casting a shadow over your senses. With trembling limbs, you rose from your bed, a sudden chill enveloping you and causing your skin to ripple with goosebumps. Shivering involuntarily, you mustered the courage to slowly open the door, cringing at the piercing creak that echoed through the air.

The sound could have been anything. It could have been the clatter of the guards accidentally shattering a foolishly placed vase, or shit, even a couple of ghosts roughhousing. After all, considering the grim history of the house, which had witnessed countless brutal demises, such possibilities were not entirely far-fetched. Nevertheless, an indescribable intuition gnawed at your gut, forewarning that an impending calamity loomed on the horizon.

Were they mere thieves, opportunists daring to exploit the near emptiness of the house to pilfer its trove of antiques? If that were the case, where were the supposedly vigilant guards?

No, that couldn't be.

It stretched the bounds of coincidence to believe that strangers would intentionally target the abode of a notorious mafia boss for a mere burglary.

Shaking like a leaf, you adamantly resisted the urge to succumb to fear and let it trap you in this wretched room. Summoning your resolve, you swiftly toggled the switch in the basement, causing the feeble illumination from the few functioning lights to flicker to life. The staircase materialized before you, partially shrouded in darkness, playing tricks on your mind as it conjured phantom figures lurking just beyond the reach of the light. With measured steps, you cautiously advanced towards the stairs, and to your surprise, you discovered that the metallic door stood unlocked—

And then, some was behind you.

You knew this because the frigid contact of the gun pressed against the back of your head was an undeniable reality coursing chilling sensation down your spine.

"Raise your hands, and don't do anything hasty, girl."

A sense of time dilation took hold as the world around you appeared to decelerate. You felt immobilized, unable to move a muscle. The voice that reached your ears was distinct and didn't belong to Vash or anyone you had encountered thus far, leaving you hesitant and unable even to blink. Every fiber of your being urged you to yield as your instincts clamored for compliance. After all, it was clearly not a propitious moment for acting like a dumb bitch.

"Hey, Neon!" the unfamiliar voice bellowed, causing you to flinch involuntarily at the sheer volume. "Take a look at what those fuck up twins are hiding in the basement."

As you pressed your lips tightly together, a whirlwind of apprehension and anxiety churned within you. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, their salty sting teasing the corners of your eyes as you fixated on the man descending the staircase, his attire shimmering in the dim light. He approached you, his steps deliberate and measured, until he stood before you, his eyes alight with a disgusting gleam. And with perfect clarity, you watched him slowly shake his head at you. Warning you not to do what you were about to do. You stared at the hard lines of his face, fear steadily trickling through your body at an alarming rate.

He harshly cupped your chin in his hand, his touch threatening to break your jaw. His voice resonated with a twisted sense of captivation as he declared, "We came to take those brothers shine away," his words dripping with morbid fascination. "And behold, what a flashy gem they unknowingly concealed within this box. Such a shame! Beings like you ought to be showcased for all to revel in."

This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real.

Yes! Of course! Your stupid fucking brain must be a bit too imaginative tonight, but aside from that, this was hardcore real. If these intruders had managed to advance this far, it stood to reason that the guards had met their demise as well. So this was going to be your almighty end? No fucking thank you.

*

Much like Vash's previous visit, it felt like walking through a portal to hell when he walked into this club. It was stifling in here, the air so full of depravity and sickness that it was a physical weight on his shoulders. Jesus fucking Christ. He felt like he needed a goddamn gas mask to shield himself from the repulsive atmosphere surrounding him.

Their birthday party was immersed in an aura of chaos, defined by its dark theme. The pulsating bass of the music enveloped the surroundings as if originating from within his chest, which he had never immensely grown accustomed to the deafening volume of such venues. Fuckers! Shut the shit down!

Girls gracefully danced around the crowd of drunk revelers, blending sensuality and artistry, captivating the onlookers. The air was saturated with the scent of alcohol, intermingling with the thumping beats that reverberated throughout the place.

Seated in the expansive main area, the layout unfolded before him as an open concept. The ambiance was dimly lit, casting an aura of foreboding. Unlike those in the shady strip clubs downtown, the black marble floors gleamed as brilliantly as his recently polished shoes. The walls, painted a deep shade of blood red, remained devoid of creepy artwork, but plenty of creeps had occupied the booths and tables surrounding the stage.

His gaze fixated on a woman twirling around the pole, humping it to the beat while money was thrown on the stage. Shifting in his seat, he leisurely stretched his arms across the back of the couch, his legs casually spread apart. He might be dead inside, but his desires were pretty alive. The influence of alcohol was unmistakable, evident in his slight swaying and the dulled state of his senses due to the intoxicating haze. Nevertheless, amid the clamor of the party, a subtle irritation flickered across his countenance, adding a touch of annoyance to his features.

This side of the club was filled with couches and tables. Men had lounged on the couches with women draped over their laps and rubbing their tits in their faces. A full bar was where several men sat, drinking glasses of alcohol. Probably fifty-thousand-dollar Scotch that tasted like ass. Then again, they probably enjoyed that taste since they thought their farts smelled like flowers.

Women in revealing attire roamed the room, circulating among the crowd, serving drinks and feigning laughter at the patrons' feeble attempts at humor. Merely ten feet from where Vash was seated, a woman stood beside a man, extending her bare arm as the asshole callously extinguished his lit cigar on her skin. Smoke hissed and curled from the contact, yet she didn't move an inch. In fact, she didn't even flinch.

Upon closer observation, Vash discerned a blank expression on the woman's face, mirroring the detachment exhibited by the pole dancer gyrating provocatively on the stage. The pungent scent of singed flesh permeated the vicinity, lingering in the air. To Vash's dismay, one dickhead even waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically as if it was her fault it smelled.

Her arm fell limply to her side as she remained motionless, her gaze glazed and distant. Vash's attention was drawn to the entirety of her arm, which bore a multitude of burn scars—some old, others fresh—each at varying stages of healing and plenty of fresh burns from tonight.

Cigarettes and burn scars.

You.

Your scars.

The music pumping through the speakers was everywhere, though not to the extent of drowning out his thoughts. Anger erupted within him, intensifying as he questioned why his mind, in such an environment, was fixated on you. Pain in the ass!

Once again, his gaze fell upon the girl. For sure, she had been drugged. So, for a moment, out of anger, he thought of getting up and burning the man's hand with a lighter, but he was no goddamn hero. Even he, himself, was not significantly different from those around him.

"Mr. Saverem, how can I help you?" a blonde woman asked, leaning on him till her nipples were almost in his mouth if he hadn't pulled his head away. She wore a plain, loose black top and a mini skirt, with nondescript heels and her hair pulled back into a tight bun. Standing positioned between Vash's legs, she awaited his response.

The familiar vacant expression adorned her face, signaling that she, like the others, had fallen prey to the effects of being drugged. It became evident to Vash that they were all victims of this manipulation, a taste that Kni seemed to favor. He questioned himself, wondering why he had even entertained the notion of anything different in this grim situation.

"Where's Kni?"

"Who?" the girl asked, her confusion evident as she straightened her posture slightly.

Vash contemplated shifting his leg, but upon noticing the girl's lack of response, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. In a swift reaction, she promptly retreated, creating some distance between them. "Where is your master, Knives?"

"Oh," she said, as if newly remembering. "Your brother is in the VIP—" Before she could finish her sentence, Vash was on his feet, navigating his way through the throng of grinding couples, drunk girls getting molested, and obnoxious douchebags drenched in excessive cologne with a mountain of gel in their hair. For fuck's sake, one even parted his button-up to proudly show off the gold chain hanging over his hairy, overly tanned chest.

From both sides, unsettling gazes from men and women fixated upon him as the sound of bass-heavy music filled the air, originating from somewhere ahead. Determinedly, he made his way toward the hallway. This section boasted opulent gold-tiled flooring, foreboding black walls, and an obscenely extravagant chandelier. Men in suits, whose names he wished to erase from memory, greeted him with disconcerting smiles, still riding the high from raping a poor girl or boy. To him, they all appeared indistinguishably repugnant.

As he arrived at the VIP section, Vash noticed that the bass had mellowed in intensity. Positioned on a crescent-shaped couch, Kni sat with his legs spread apart while a bartender enthusiastically bounced up and down on his lap while his head was kicked back with his eyes closed. The bartender's skirt was hitched up, her thong pulled aside, leaving her pussy exposed, eating up Kni's cock all the way down. This wasn't new for Vash. He had seen worse.

The presence of white powders streaked across the glass table made it evident that Vash's twin was high on cocaine. Meanwhile, Kni's devoted dog, Legato, sat on the opposite side of the room, probably for the first time receiving treatment from a girl and only because Kni probably had paid for it. Vash arched a brow, unimpressed with how low Legato's girl had to bounce. Little dick! Luckily, his partners never had that issue.

Letting out a sigh, he retreated into the shadows, and it took him five minutes to get out of this godforsaken place until he reached the table where the girl with cigarette burn scars was seated.

"Gentlemen, my apologies, but this one is off-limits for tonight," Vash snarled, his eyes ablaze with fury. With a single glance, she recoiled and shrank into herself while the other men chuckled mockingly.

"Excellent choice, birthday boy," Ruth, one of Kni's men, mumbled, casting a hungry gaze upon her, akin to a famished person with a plate full of food after weeks of deprivation. "She's got a delicious pussy."

"How coincidental! I had the very same thought," Vash retorted directly to the man, who chuckled heartily, relishing the idea of a woman being objectified. The old fuck!

Vash firmly seized the woman's arm, yanking her close to his body and forcefully pulling her away. Though she didn't resist with great strength, the instinct of self-preservation gradually emerged, battling against the haze of drugs within her system. Nevertheless, she had long accepted her fate.

Upon reaching a secluded room, he shifted his focus towards her. To his astonishment, she had already descended to her knees, her eyes fixed upon him with a blend of sorrow and surrender.

She possessed a captivating beauty, with lustrous brown hair, enchanting grass-green eyes, and freckles adorning her nose. There was a quality about her that bore a slight resemblance to you, and immediately, he felt a burning urge to storm back outside and crush his fist in Ruth's face just for touching her.

"Get up," Vash stated firmly. She rose to her feet with unsteady movements, resembling a baby giraffe taking its tentative first steps. "I'm going to get you out of here," he assured her, determination evident in his voice.

A crease formed on her forehead, and her expression turned into a frown. "Sir—" she started to say, her voice conveying a sense of unease or apprehension.

"How would you feel about getting a fresh start in life, yeah?"

Her eyes widened as if the idea of breaking free from her current situation began to dissipate the haze of drugs clouding her gaze. However, a sense of wariness replaced her initial glimmer of hope, eventually giving way to resignation. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes as she looked down, seemingly gathering herself. "I understand what that entails. I-I apologize. I am here to fulfill your desires, sir. Please, grant me the opportunity to bring you pleasure—"

"I have no intention of causing you harm or taking your life," Vash interjected firmly, emphasizing each word.

"But-but you're Vash Saverem."  

The weight of her words slapped him hard, realizing the understandable skepticism the girl held towards his intentions. He couldn't blame her; he wouldn't trust a fuck up like himself. "I'm going to help you, but I need you to listen to exactly what I say."

She shifted uneasily on her feet, glancing up at him with nervousness, her head nodding vigorously. Vash swiftly retrieved his phone and dialed Livio's number, waiting for him to answer. With only a few words exchanged, Vash explained the dire situation at hand. It took fifteen minutes of coordination before a car was arranged to pick her up. During that time, the girl shared details about her family. She spoke of his father battling cancer. She revealed that she resorted to this line of work to cover the mounting medical expenses. However, she confessed her uncertainty about the worthiness of it all if it meant risking her life and the abrupt cessation of the additional income.

Never again would she have to bear the burden of caring for her family or endure the torment of cigarette burns, Vash promised.

As she approached the door, ready to enter the car, Vash grasped her wrist. A nondescript black sedan stood just two feet away, its door already swung open, beckoning her inside.

"Hey," he spoke calmly, causing her to freeze in her tracks. "I need you to promise me something," he continued. "Never discuss this matter with anyone, alright? I have the memory of an elephant, especially with faces. Understood?"

She would never see the wrong end of Vash's gun, even if she did tell, but it would make his life much more complicated if she knew that.

"Okay," she responded softly. "You're a very good man, Mr. Saverem." A solitary tear escaped her eye, which she quickly wiped away before nodding. Her brightened eyes shone with hope, and doing this shit was all worth it when he had her look at him like that. He still didn't consider himself a hero, but it was his birthday night, and he was allowed to do whatever fuck he wanted. None of anybody's business.

*

Stepping out of his vintage black cherry Mercury Cougar, Vash stretched his neck, his muscles taut with pent-up tension. Scanning his surroundings, he suddenly snapped out of a daze and realized the absence of doormen in front of the gate. Upon further scrutiny, he also noticed the guards at the entrance were nowhere to be seen. This felt off. The night had an unsettling aura, akin to being trapped in a metallic chamber, just waiting for the bullet to ricochet and hit him somewhere vital.

Couldn't this fucking night just end?

Vash proceeded cautiously through the back entrance. His movement abruptly stopped when he glanced to his left and spotted a pair of men clad in flashy attire—the notorious Bad Lad Gang members. Exhaling a sigh of relief, a slight burden lifted from his shoulders, confirming they weren't mercenaries. This meant there was a higher likelihood of you still being alive. Shaking his head, he retrieved his gun and screwed the silencer piece with precision.

However, his momentary relief evaporated when he overheard the words that escaped their vulgar mouths.

"Why are we wasting time?" one of the men inquired impatiently.

"That bitch refused to come with us. Who the hell would choose to stay in captivity instead of taking a chance at escape?" one of the men sneered. "I mean, we may not be saints, but we're still better than those Saverems. The van is already prepared for departure."

Vash's posture snapped into rigid attention, his body becoming as stiff as if cement had been injected into his spinal cord. The realization hit him like a sudden jolt—you had chosen not to go. Good girl.

"What if they return?" the man attempted to appease the situation.

"We've got our guys infiltrated into their birthday party. Big brother is all drugged up, surrounded by his crew, and the other is busy with a hostess in the back. Even if they do come back, Neon said he'll use her as leverage to secure our freedom and more money," the man explained confidently.

"But we don't even know who she is! She hasn't uttered a single word. How can we be certain that she's worth anything?" another man interjected.

"She must hold some significance if Diablo has her locked up. Neon is doing his best to coax her into talking. I hope he finishes soon because, judging by the brutal scars on Diablo's body, I definitely wouldn't want to cross paths with the younger Saverem," the man remarked with a shudder.

The first man casually waved his hand, dismissing his friend's very valid concerns. "He ended up with those scars because he was weak," he remarked callously.

Vash's laughter erupted soundlessly, his head thrown back and shoulders convulsing with mirth as he absorbed the twisted assumption made by the man. His laughter resonated through the confined space, intertwining with the eerie sounds that permeated the desolate house. The heads of the four men snapped towards him, their faces drained of color as if their worst nightmares had come to life. Soon enough, they would realize that he occupied the very throne of terror, and their nightmares would kneel before him, for he was a far greater abomination than any monster they could fathom.

Entering the room, Vash's grin broadened as he observed their instinctive recoil. Swiftly, before they could even reach for their weapons, Vash eliminated three of them. Dead. Easy peasy!

"Diablo—" the man who had previously exuded confidence began, his voice filled with unease and surprise.

"Do you want to know how old my scars are? Very old. They bear witness to battles against formidable adversaries. But let me enlighten you on who sprawled on the floor, their throats slit, and eye sockets hollowed out. It certainly wasn't me, you bastard," Vash retorted with a menacing edge.

The man attempted to dismiss Vash's story with a choked laugh. "Saverem, please, we weren't talking about you or your girl," he rasped out, his voice strained and broken.

His girl.

You? His girl? Huh!

"The worst mistake you could make is lying to me," Vash said, a flicker of anger seeping into his gaze as he advanced. Trespassing into his domain was one thing, but attempting to steal his precious asset was an entirely different offense. "Neon is your boss, right? Where is he?"

"Please—I have kids. Ple—"

Vash closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath, and reopened them with a resolute gaze. " I'm not gonna repeat myself," he stated firmly, raising his gun to the man's forehead.

"B-B-Basement," the man stammered, his fear causing him to lose control. Vash couldn't help but find the man's demeanor pathetic, almost on the verge of peeing on his floor. What an ass!

"How many of you are inside?" Vash inquired, his hand delving into his pocket to count the bullets. Unsure it was disheartening to anticipate needing them even on his birthday or if he should find solace in having them for such an occasion, he embraced the latter. This was not a time for sadness. A sense of contentment washed over him, knowing his trusty, cold companions of metal bullets were beside him wherever he went.

"About twenty-five," the man replied. Not an insignificant number, but not particularly formidable either. With that, Vash wasted no time. He pulled the trigger, firing at the man, and without pausing to witness his collapse, he dashed through the doorway.

*

The crackling of parquet beneath his feet revealed his path leading towards the basement. The lifeless figure of the last person he had dispatched lay near the staircase, likely retaining some residual warmth. Vash shook his clenched fists, feeling the restlessness entwining his nerves into tight knots.

In the basement, Vash discovered a strategically positioned group of five armed men, three more on their six and four on their twelve. Cracking his neck, he savored the sensation of bones popping, finding solace in the release of tension and the subsequent relaxation of his shoulders. Fucking long night.

Taking down twelve men wouldn't pose a significant challenge for Vash as long as he executed his moves swiftly and stealthily. After cutting off the power, he knew disabling the guards surrounding the mansion would be easier. Finding a spot hidden in the shadows took two seconds, giving him the perfect shot angle. Their mistake was relying on their limited eyesight for intruders. His ability to hide in the shadows was what ultimately got them killed. They should have equipped themselves with night vision goggles. What fools! Maybe then he would have found a bit of entertainment in the encounter.

Slinking up to the door, he pressed his shoulder against the wall, ensuring his footsteps remained silent. With deftness, he turned the handle and smoothly slipped through the partially opened door, his body passing through the narrow gap. The metal door closed noiselessly behind him, bringing him one step closer to you.

The muffled screams of "NO" reached Vash's ears, the sound of your fights piercing his consciousness. White-hot rage blinded his vision; however, he knew better than to rush in recklessly or lose his fucking shit. No one could afford to succumb to their emotions in this situation; otherwise, you would never be rescued. It wasn't easy to maintain composure, though. These assholes had a way of bringing out the worst in him.

Keeping to the shadows, he made his way through the hallway; peering around the corner, he spotted you. The man who appeared to be the leader of this group of varmints had leaned in close to you, trapping your legs between his. The audacity! This was his spot!

Vash clenched his fists, the tension intensifying until his hands grew numb, and he drew his gun from its holster. He knew that once the first man fell, the remaining enemies would unleash a barrage of gunfire. That's why he needed to proceed with caution and quickness. While it was difficult to gauge how they would treat your safety, they might have valued their trump card's life above all else. However, some of these men were more concerned about self-preservation, which meant you could become an easy target for stray bullets.

As Vash had guessed, three men stood guard before him, blissfully unaware of his presence. Stupid fucks. He couldn't help but scoff at their ignorance. How could people be oblivious to the imminent danger lurking right under their noses? It baffled him to no end.

With precise movements, Vash dispatched all three men in quick succession. Their bodies collapsed to the ground while the remaining five men in the basement pit turned their heads in tandem, their faces morphing from surprise to alarm to anger in seconds. In a frantic scramble, they reached for their firearms. Meanwhile, Vash remained concealed behind the protective cover of the wall. Two men opened fire, forcing him to retreat and seek safer ground.

A bullet grazed the corner of the wall, narrowly missing Vash's face. Chunks of concrete scattered, stinging his eyes as the onslaught of bullets continued to zip around him. He grunted in response, reflexively massaging his eyelids to dispel the chaos and restore clarity to his vision.

Just as Vash readied himself for the next encounter, a man came charging around the corner, oblivious to his impending fate. Without hesitation, Vash swiftly killed him with a precisely aimed shot, leaving a neat hole between his brows. He was an ugly motherfucker, anyway. The world would do just fine without him. Before the lifeless body could crumple to the ground, Vash seized him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Despite the repugnant odor emanating from the rotting wound on the man's face, Vash used him as a shield, stepping out of the hallway and utilizing the dead man's body as a barrier against the bullets that continued to rain down upon him.

The lifeless body absorbed a few hits as Vash skillfully fired two single shots, taking down two more adversaries. With a calculated move, he stepped back into the hallway, pushing away the bloodied man, now riddled with bullets. The man's head made a sickening thud as it collided with the wooden floor. Vash had briefly used him as a shield for five seconds, but he knew he had been fortunate. It wasn't like the movies. Bullets could easily penetrate through bodies, making such tactics risky and unpredictable. Typically, Vash avoided using others as shields unless absolutely necessary, and even then, only for brief moments to gain a tactical advantage.

He reloaded his gun as a chorus of noises raised in the basement in the form of terrified screams and yells of panic from the men, ordering to "kill the puta."

With six men remaining, Vash could sense the panic crawling off them. The threat reverberated as one of them shouted, his voice echoing, "Come out with your hands raised and your gun on the floor, or I'll kill your bitch!"

Vash let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the situation. Knowing they knew his weakness, he reluctantly complied with their demand. He dropped his gun onto the floor and emerged with his hands raised. The six men positioned themselves between him and you. The bitter knowledge that they were only doing so to ensure the bait wasn't damaged rather than giving a shit about hurting you burned hot in his chest. Despite the circumstances, he maintained a taunting smirk on his lips as he addressed them, "Come on, the fun was just starting." However, the lack of visibility prevented him from gauging your current state. The burning question lingered: Were you okay?

"Shut up!" the boss spat. He was a Latino man with an unconventional hairstyle adorned with tattoos that covered his entire body. He wore clothes that made him seem like he had raided a circus wardrobe. This must be Neon, the leader of the gang Vash had been hunting. It was a pleasure to meet you finally, dead man!

Neon's eyes were wide with fear, and based on the crack pipes scattering on the table behind him, Vash'd say most of them were high off their rockers. Not so good. Trigger-happy and fueled by their drug-induced state, they were unpredictable and prone to impulsive actions. And he got six of those happy fingers on triggers. "Who told you we are in your house?" Neon shouted, emphasizing his question with a wave of his gun.

Vash responded with a dry tone, "I felt your stench."

Neon raised his gun above his head and fired a shot, attempting to intimidate Vash. See? Trigger happy. However, Vash remained unfazed by the act, showing no signs of flinching or fear. Instead, he took the opportunity to carefully observe his surroundings. To his left, there was a table strewn with an assortment of items: guns, ashtrays, empty vodka bottles—his vodka bottles—and yet another crack pipe. Perfect.

"So, it seems you truly are the infamous arrogant Diablo," the man remarked, his finger caressing the trigger.

Vash maintained a composed demeanor as he inquired, "And you Neon?"

The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Vash could discern the traces of paranoia seeping into his eyes. It became apparent that Neon might not be as cooperative or helpful as Vash had initially anticipated. He was buzzing too hard. Neon responded with suspicion, "How do you know that? You following me?"

A wide, toothy grin spread across Vash's face. "It's what I excel at, after all," he replied. "Word on the street is that you're the big shot around here, running the show and all that." Neon shifted uncomfortably, a hint of pride flickering across his expression. It was as if he believed he was contributing something meaningful to the world, oblivious that his actions were centered around stealing valuable possessions while dressed like a clown. "I was actually hoping you could help me out, man."

"Yeah?" Neon patronized, his tone dripping with disdain. "You believe I'm going to lend you a hand? You must be out of your mind, Diablo." He fired another shot, this time deliberately close to Vash. Too close for comfort. Enough to feel the bullet's heat, yet he didn't flinch, and his calmness seemed to infuriate Neon even further.

Vash sighed. With Neon's current state of mind, he had to kill his ass down from his high. A swift assessment of the situation told him he had a mere two seconds before the rest of the men would open fire, regardless of what he said. With that limited timeframe in mind, he suddenly reached behind his back, retrieving his second gun and taking down one of the men to his left. The suddenness of his action caught the others off guard, buying him a small window of opportunity. Taking advantage of that momentary distraction, Vash flipped the table, causing the glass to shatter from the ashtrays and a gun to fall off the table, discharging a round and filling the room with shocked screams from the remaining men.

Fuck. If that bullet had ricocheted and landed just an inch closer to you, he would have willingly allowed himself to be stabbed rather than risk your safety. However, no cries of pain followed, so he took a deep breath, relieved but no less pissed at himself.

In perfect synchronization, a barrage of bullets pierced the thick, wooden table, punctuating the air with a loud sound. Fortunately, most projectiles failed to penetrate fully, a stroke of luck in Vash's favor. Returning fire was far too risky in this situation. Even the slightest exposure of his pinky toe would invite a hail of bullets, and he refused to jeopardize your well-being further by blindly firing back. He would only take shots when he had absolute certainty of their accuracy. For now, all he could do was wait, biding his time until the assailants emptied their clips.

Vash heard the rustling of clothing and muttered curses as they scrambled to reload. It took even less time for him to shoot the remaining four. The bullets had torn through the men's brains in rapid succession, causing their lifeless bodies to collapse simultaneously. However, he deliberately chose to spare Neon for the time being. He intended to deal with him later, in his own way.

Neon's mouth unleashed a torrent of curses, his colorful tirade spewing as he desperately searched for another weapon. He was nothing more than a whiny bitch trapped in a man's body, devoid of true courage. His face flushed with rage, filled with murderous intent as he fixed a fierce glare upon Vash. Now that he thought again, he had no time for these stupid games. Ignoring the look on Neon's face, Vash shot the thief in the head. Thieves had no home in heaven, remember?

And then he looked for you—the spitfire who would turn to a mush when he was around you. Between death and destruction, you had worn a smile on your lips, your eyes glistening with tears, your hair disheveled. Yet, there was an undeniable radiance within you, a precious light that warmed his heart and justified the violence he had unleashed to protect you.

In that moment, he couldn't help but question whether he was your savior or if you, with your enchanting smile, were the true source of his salvation. You embodied a majestic blessing, and he found himself addicted to the sheer joy that radiated within him each time you smiled in his presence.

*

Vash's face changed seasons as he reached you: the once rigid line of his mouth warmed into a bright smile. His eyes sparkled as he beamed at you, seemingly unfazed by the presence of lifeless bodies strewn about the surroundings.

Vash studied your eyes intently, his piercing blue gaze locked onto yours as if trying to read you for clues. But, the intensity of his scrutiny was often overwhelming, causing you to break the connection prematurely. In doing so, you felt a sense of disconnection, as if a vital tether had been momentarily severed, leaving you with a somewhat unsettled feeling.

"Get down—"

He tackled you to the ground just as the sound of gunshots filled the basement. His strong arms enveloped and pulled you close to his chest, his body shielding yours from the imminent danger. The rapid thumping of your heart drowned out Vash's voice as he leaned close and spoke into your ear, his words barely audible.

In a hushed whisper, Vash asked, "Are you all right?" as he held you even closer, seeking reassurance of your well-being. You attempted to nod in response, conveying your condition despite the tense situation. "Stay down," he said, his voice filled with urgency. "Don't move." His words were firm.

You had no intentions of doing otherwise, though you chose not to voice it to him.

The gunshots rang out, and you instinctively covered your ears tightly, seeking temporary respite from the ear-splitting noise. Then, abruptly, silence descended, leaving a void that was broken only by the sight of Vash dropping his gun and collapsing to the floor. With wide eyes, you turned to face him, witnessing him struggling to remain seated, his strength visibly waning.

As you took in the sight before you, your breath caught in your throat. Vash's head hung low, his neck limp, and his disheveled coat revealing an undone button. His dark shirt and crimson vest were soaked in blood, painting a grim tableau.

He had been shot, but when? Now? No. No. No.

You were too poor to afford the luxury of succumbing to hysteria. Instead, your focus shifted to finding a solution to staunch Vash's bleeding, yet fear held you back from approaching him. Your eyes scanned the surroundings, convinced Vash had ensured no remaining intruders were lurking nearby.

With caution, you gingerly maneuvered between Vash's legs, mindful of avoiding a direct gaze at the blood staining his hands. You consciously suppressed your imagination, refusing to let it overpower you in this critical moment. Not here. Not now.  

Gathering your resolve, you called out to him, your voice filled with concern and uncertainty, "Vash...?"

Your hand instinctively went to his neck, seeking his pulse, and at that moment, Vash's head snapped up with a sudden burst of energy. His eyes found you. His face, remarkably, appeared largely unscathed, save for the visible signs of weariness etched upon it.

"I'm not dead yet, love," he whispered, his weary smile gracing his face as if he were beholding you with fresh eyes, appreciating your presence anew. "I'm glad it didn't hit you."

Tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously, and his words flooded your thoughts, rendering your mind a whirlwind of confusion. Your mouth opened, but nothing emerged as your limbs felt immobilized, and your wide eyes remained fixated on him, reflecting a combo of fear, concern, and an overwhelming flood of emotions.

"You're worried for me?" Vash said, his voice hoarse.

"Shut up!"

His hand reached out to tenderly caress your cheek. No gloves. His hand was bloodied. You knew it. But you couldn't care less. It was the hand of your savior, and that fact outweighed any concerns about its current state. His thumb left faint blood trails on your face, and in response, your muscles finally began to relax from their tense state. With a resolute grip, you clasped his wrist firmly with both hands, causing him to flinch momentarily. Undeterred, you held on even tighter, seeking to provide a sense of stability and support.

You had grown an unexpected soft spot for him, maybe because he was vulnerable, or perhaps it was because he had taken a bullet while selflessly protecting you, a level of care that had been absent from your life for far too long. It was a stark reminder of his compassion, something no one else had done in ages. You swallowed down your deep-seated hatred, at least for the moment, and mustered the strength to ask, "Tell me, what should I do?"

"Love," Vash murmured, his gaze unwaveringly fixed upon yours, his lips slightly parted. Within his turquoise-colored eyes resided a haunting pain that seemed to hold him captive. His dark lashes unveiled a complex blend of sorrow and beauty as he blinked, a sight that struck you with unexpected intensity. The profound emotions he conveyed through a mere glance caught you off guard, revealing an extraordinary depth of agony entrenched within his heart.

Your throat tightened, and with a gulp, you released his hand, redirecting your focus to pressing both of your hands firmly against his torso. The warmth of his blood seeped through your fingers, staining your skin with a crimson hue in mere moments. The onslaught of rushing blood in your ears intensified, drowning out other sounds as waves of tension threatened to consume you from inside.

In a quiet voice, you found yourself whispering words to him that emerged from the depths of your being, words you didn't even know were there. Wave after wave of stress slammed into you, and fuck...everything blurred as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. It felt like your chest was splitting wide open, like your heart was spilling alongside his blood.

As you lifted your head, your gaze met him, and to your surprise, you discovered him wearing a genuine smile that had blossomed upon his lips. One so warm that it cracked the shell of coldness.

"Thank you, but pressing your hands on it is not gonna work," he said, placing his palms on the floor and endeavoring to push himself up into an upright position against the couch. "I need to see the wound. Can you help me unbutton my vest and shirt?"

As he inhaled deeply, his head snapped back, causing his neck tattoos to stretch tautly. Cold droplets of sweat trickled down from the tattoos, tracing a path along the collar of his shirt. He swallowed, and the movement of his Adam's apple was evident as it bobbed up and down. The sheer simplicity of this primal act sent a chill coursing through your veins, causing every hair on your body to stand on end. It stirred something deep within you, a sensation that hinted at something amiss within yourself.

Focus!

He had no tie, so carefully, you began to undo his buttons, your fingers trembling slightly as you navigated the task. It was then that you caught yourself instinctively closing your eyes, a reflex to shield yourself from the vulnerability of the moment. However, you quickly blinked them open when you felt something brush against your eyelashes, realizing it was a fleeting touch from his fingers. Holy shit! You were dripping, burning, and melting all at once.

"We can't proceed with your eyes closed," he said with a small smile the size of Jupiter. Intrigued, you cautiously peeked at his features, taking in the exquisite craftsmanship of every detail. Each element seemed meticulously designed, from his perfectly sculpted nose and chin to his finely-shaped ears and eyebrows. His eyelashes possessed a captivating allure that any girl would envy, framing his eyes with a wealth of color and depth, capable of inspiring countless works of art. Moreover, his golden hair resembled the ripe, undulating fields of wheat, a sight you longed to relish, while his eyes were a canvas with infinite possibilities, beckoning you to paint a million vibrant pictures.

Your eyes traced the contour of his jaw, allowing your gaze to travel along the graceful curve of his neck until it reached the apex of his collarbone. There, you committed to memory the sculpted landscape of his throat, with its captivating interplay of hills and valleys, accentuated by the presence of intricate tattoos. The sheer perfection of—

Scars.

His skin was shredded with scars.

Blood rushed to your head so quickly that you began to feel faint. You felt sick. Like you might actually, truly upturn the contents of your stomach right now. You wanted to panic; you wanted to shake someone; you wanted to know how to understand the emotions choking you because you couldn't even imagine, couldn't even imagine, couldn't even imagine what he must've endured to carry such suffering on his skin.

His entire torso was a map of pain.

Thick and thin and uneven and terrible. Scars like roads that led to nowhere. They were gashes and ragged slices you couldn't understand, marks of torture you never expected. They were the only imperfections on his entire body, imperfections hidden away and hiding secrets of their own.

Then, a realization washed over you, not for the first time, that you had no idea who Vash really was. You tried to tell him something. You tried to choke out. You tried to say so many times and failed. You tried to find his eyes only to realize he'd been watching you study him. The pieces of his face were pressed into lines of emotion so deep you wondered what you must look like to him. He touched two fingers to your chin, tilted your face up just enough, and his touch was like an electric wire in water.

"It's not a pleasant sight for a woman," he murmured in a low tone, and it felt as if the entire universe froze in its tracks, spinning in the opposite direction. Yet, your gaze remained fixated on him, on the expanse of his upper body. You were struck by the sheer perfection that unfolded before you, captivated by his flawless appearance from the front. Strong, lean frame, toned and muscular without being bulky. He was fair without being pale and skin tinted with enough sunlight to look effortlessly healthy. The body of a perfect man.

What a lie appearances could be.

What a terrible, terrible lie.

His gaze fixated on you, his eyes akin to blue flames, burning with an intensity that refused to be extinguished. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him and his chest's rapid rise and fall.

"Would you mind?" he asked, gesturing towards his wound, his tone attempting to convey a casual demeanor that thinly veiled the underlying apprehension in his eyes. "I'm bleeding a bit here," he added, acknowledging the criticality of tending to his injury.

"Do your scars hurt?" you blurted out suddenly.

He met your gaze with eyes widened in surprise, and in a quiet tone, he confessed, "Help me take these things off." Of course, he wouldn't answer you.

In a barely audible whisper, you mustered the courage to ask, "Will you tell me where they came from?" The weight of the question made it difficult for you to maintain eye contact as curiosity and trepidation swirled within you.

He was silent for so long. Then, his voice, like a gentle tug on a leash, called your name, instantly capturing your attention. You lifted your head, compelled by his words. "Help me take off my coat and vest. I feel like I'm suffocating," he requested, his pale face contorted with pain.

You didn't push further. With a nod of understanding, you delicately held him, careful not to hurt him further. He didn't say a word about the pain, trying so hard to hide that he was having trouble breathing. He was wincing against the torture of it all but didn't whisper a complaint.

You drew him closer, bringing his head to rest against yours, his deep breaths brushing against your shoulder. You seized the fabric's edge without hesitation, ready to gently remove it from his arms. However, the minuscule motion seemed to inflict unbearable pain, prompting him to bury his face in the curve of your neck. There, he stifled another groan, his lips pressing firmly against your skin, seeking solace in his discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so—"

Feeling his hand tugging on your t-shirt, his grip tight and desperate, he implored in a calm voice near your ear, "Just take them off." You attempted to comply with his request, carefully removing the garments, mindful of the pain it may cause him. In response, his hands transformed into a firm embrace around your waist, his lips shifted to lightly press against your cheek, and his body pressed intimately against yours. Your senses became acutely aware of his touch.

He was touching you, touching you, touching you.

"Love—"

As his body pressed nearer, a wave of awareness swept through you, consuming your senses until nothing else mattered except the ethereal dandelions blowing wishes within your lungs. Suddenly, your eyes flew open, capturing a fleeting moment as he briefly licked his bottom lip. His tongue grazed your neck, and in that instant, something in your brain burst to life.

You gasped. You gasped. You gasped.

"I—"

"Love, please," his voice trembled with anxiety. "Just—" he pleaded, his lips pressed tightly against your skin. For a fleeting moment, he closed his eyes, and droplets of sweat trickled down from his hairline, falling onto your shoulder blade. His fingers slowly traversed the sides of your body, their movement betraying his inner struggle to remain composed. And he held you. It felt unlike any embrace you had experienced before. It was as if you were a fragile glass urn containing his entire existence—precious, vital, and an inseparable part of him.

With a swift motion, you removed both his coat and vest, expecting some dramatic reaction. But he didn't scream. He didn't die. He didn't faint, but you did cry, you did choke, you did shake, shudder, splinter into teardrops. He leaned back against the couch, and you couldn't help but notice the pallor that had washed over his face. It was a sight that broke something deep within your heart. Seeing him in this vulnerable state pierced your defenses despite your lingering hatred towards him. You would have preferred to witness him succumb instantly, with that infuriating smirk on his face, rather than seeing those big, blue eyes staring at you like a lost fallen angel.

"Some of them are remnants of our childhood games," he uttered, his voice strained as he cleared his parched throat. The revelation left you frozen in a state of horror. "The scars, I mean," he clarified. Your mind raced, struggling to process the implications of his words. Vash averted his gaze, his eyes devoid of any discernible emotion, his face locked into a neutral expression. The silence hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken questions.

"Knives whipped you?" you managed to rasp, your voice hoarse and filled with shock. The words tumbled out without permission.

"Cut."

"Oh my God," you gasped, instinctively covering your mouth in disbelief. Your gaze shifted towards the wall as you fought to regain your composure. Blinking rapidly, you wrestled with the pain and rage within you, struggling to contain the emotions threatening to consume you.

"I'm so sorry," you choked out.

You had to suppress the words that threatened to spill from your lips. His flawless countenance. His impeccable physique. His eyes were cold and exquisite, like frozen gemstones. Gods! His concealed exterior was as shattered as his hidden interior.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of your emotions, you found yourself speaking without reservation, assuring him, "Your scars are not repulsive. At least they weren't for me or… your Nick."

His gaze remained fixed upon you for a while, but then he shook his head, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I'll apply pressure to my wound with this vest. Meanwhile, I need you to retrieve my coat," he instructed. "In the right pocket, you'll find my phone. Take it and make a call to Bradd. He's on speed dial #2. Remember, there's no cell reception in the basement. You have to go upstairs." He paused, swallowing hard, before resuming. "The car's switch is in my left pocket." He took a deep breath and continued, "Get out of here before anyone notices you leaving. Once you reach the main road, you'll be able to make your escape easily."

WHAT? WAS HE LETTING YOU GO? It wasn't like he could stop you now, but…

As if someone had suddenly poured icy water upon your head, you gazed at him, knowing he wouldn't meet your eyes, for he was not the type to bid farewells and wish you good luck. He was letting you go out of feeling guilty; likewise, you were not one to let such an opportunity slip away.

You mechanically nodded, and with a final glance devoid of words, you swiftly grabbed his coat and made a hasty retreat up the stairs, leaving behind a silent acknowledgment of your parting.

This was all you wanted. To be free. Right?

You followed through with your actions: You did call Bradd. You did retrieve the car switch. You did make your way to the front door. You did stand there. Your hand did reach out and grasp the doorknob. However, your feet remained rooted to the floor despite your intention to leave.

Because there was a man in the basement, wounded because of you. Because that man had been shot before. Because the body never gets used to pain. Because he knew, and yet, he willingly bore it for your sake. Because where did you want to go? To your father? To that man who didn't even bother with saving you? Where did you want to go when you had nowhere? Because you only realize the depth of your desire to stay when the doors are wide open.

Upon returning to the basement, you discovered him in a distressed state. His head tilted back, his hands clenched tightly, and his lips nearly devoid of color against the backdrop of darkness. It was evident that he struggled to maintain a firm grip on his wound, unable to apply enough pressure to stem the flow.

As the sound of your footsteps reached his ears, he lifted his head and directed his gaze towards the phone in your hand, followed by a glance at the car keys held in your other hand.

In a whisper stained with desperation and vulnerability, he asked, "Why did you come back?" His words hung in the air, hopes dying and flourishing in his eyes, his eyelashes like pearls forged from pain. It felt as though he was consuming your very essence, and you, in turn, became entangled, ensnared in his presence.

"Why..." you began, your voice catching on the first two attempts at inhalation. "Why are you looking at me like you've seen a ghost?"

"Because I might be hallucinating," he almost chuckled, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and it felt as if you could sprout a pair of wings and take flight. "You didn't want to leave?" he inquired, curious about your unexpected presence.

"What?" you blinked, suddenly sobered. "No! That's not what I meant. I just thought that no one should have to go through the experience of dying alone. And remember, you told me I would finally be free when you're gone. So why should I rush to leave?"

"Yeah, that promise," he sighed, his gaze drifting downward. "You're one of the worst liars I've ever encountered." Time seemed to stretch as you waited and waited and waited for him to continue. "You just made a call to save me," he stated, his voice tinged with amusement. His eyes traveled from your shoulder to your elbow, eventually landing on your wrist, fixated on the phone in your hand. In that suspended moment, disbelief held you captive, leaving you at a loss for words. "Why do you want to make everything challenging, love?"

"How can you be certain that I've called for help?" you questioned, your voice laced with genuine surprise as you tried to raise your eyebrow.

His gaze held you captive as if pinning you in place. The urgency in his eyes ignited a spark within your very bones. He bit his bottom lip, briefly averting his gaze before the words spilled forth. "Because I know you," he declared, and a flurry of hummingbirds seemed to flutter within your heart. His eyes carried a tenderness, and his smile had the power to unhinge your very joints. A bittersweet longing stirred within you as you wished he could be someone else, someone better, so you could taste his lips' sweetness.

No lips!

Don't think about his lips, idiot!

You forced yourself to fixate on his face, determined not to let your eyes dwell upon the devastation that marked his body. However, as countless seconds ticked by, you could not tear your gaze away from him.

"I can't believe you returned," he murmured, and deep down, you understood the reasons why you shouldn't have. It wasn't logical or practical. However, against all rationale, you disregarded those thoughts and chose to sit close to him.

"You know," you informed him, "Bradd mentioned that he thought you were still fucking that girl from the party. You were obviously having fun, so why did you come home? Didn't things work out for you two?" Despite your efforts to mask it, a trace of annoyance seeped into your tone.

Vash stared at you, a genuine smile gracing his face. "No need to be jealous," he reassured, his words piercing through you. "I'm here because I'd rather celebrate with my friend than be surrounded by strangers." You struggled to maintain composure, like keeping your organs from falling out, hoping the holes in your head weren't showing.

 Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

And bold because your hand instinctively reached out, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. As you did, you noticed that his hair had grown slightly longer, a detail that had previously escaped your attention. The surprising softness of his blond locks, akin to melted chocolate, captivated you. It made you question why he bothered styling his hair in spikes when it looked so effortlessly appealing when left down. "Thank you for rescuing me," you expressed your gratitude, observing how he tensed his jaw and hesitated, opening and closing his lips.

Lowering your hand, you gently caressed his wrists, delicately tracing the tender skin with your fingertips, your touch grazing over the scars. This time, he didn't recoil; instead, he drew a fractured breath and closed his eyes. With a reassuring tone, you assured him, "You're going to be alright."

Like a wounded puppy, he made an effort to nod in acknowledgment.

Should you do something about his wound? Where was the first aid kit? He interjected as you contemplated retracting your touch, stopping you. "Don't," he said. "Your touch is the only thing keeping me from losing my sanity."

What? Why was he acting weird today? Was it because he was wounded?

You suppressed a shiver as a rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, coloring them with blush, and just for this moment, you dropped your bones and allowed him to hold you together. Luxurious was what this was.

Vash's cold, stained fingers enveloped yours, gripping them tightly, and the sheer delight that waved through you was so immense that it threatened to make you tremble. It felt as though your skin and bones had been yearning for his affection, and you didn't know how to pace yourself. You were like a starved child, attempting to satiate your hunger by devouring the richness of these moments, fearing that they would abruptly vanish, that you would wake up suddenly and realize you were a Cinderella who was still sweeping cinders for her stepmother. But then Vash's lips turned into a weary smile, and your worries put on a fancy dress and pretended to be something else for a while.

"How are you?" you inquired, your voice already betraying your unease, even though his grip on you was barely there. His laughter shook his body's shape, soft, rich, and indulgent. Yet, he remained silent in response to your question, and you knew he wouldn't. He was one of those who never talked about their pain.

His thumb delicately brushed against your hand, causing you to inhale sharply, your gaze instinctively shifting towards him. His eyes were telling you too much, so much that you had to look away because you were doubting whether they were real or merely figments of your imagination. Your skin, now hypersensitive, awakened with a pulsating vitality, humming with emotions so profound that it was almost indecent. You should have concealed these sensations but proved too potent to suppress. And deep down, you suspected he was aware of the effect he had on you—the electrifying jolt that surged through your being when his fingers grazed your skin, the proximity of his lips to your face, the searing heat of his body pressed against yours, all demanding your eyes to shut, your limbs to quiver, and your body to yield to the immense pressure.

You also observed the impact it had on him, the realization that he possessed such power over you. This must be his favorite torture. Something you were afraid would kill you.

"Have you got any tattoos?" he inquired, a smile gracing his lips as he reclined against the couch, his shirt stained with blood.

Well, this was undoubtedly a conversation you never anticipated having with Vash. "No," you responded, a touch of unease in your voice. "Besides, you've already seen me naked." For the last time, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation of his touch before consciously withdrawing your hand. You had to stop trying to convince yourself that he could be a fundamentally good person. Vash Saverem had committed unforgivable acts that should not be dismissed. You shouldn't have smiled at him. You shouldn't have even talked to him. And then you wanted to scream because you didn't think your brain could handle the split personality you seemed to be developing lately.

He studied his empty hands, a smile gracing his lips as he spoke, "I never looked at your back."

"Great," you responded, pausing briefly before continuing, "What about your tattoos? You like this maze-like design?"

His smile expanded, stretching across his face like a sunrise breaking through the clouds. Dimples reappeared, adding a touch of innocence to his countenance. A gentle shake of his head accompanied his words as he playfully challenged, "Why should I not?"

"I don't get it," you uttered, tilting your head in perplexity. "Are you trying to remind yourself of being trapped within a labyrinth?"

He shrugged slowly, momentarily glancing towards the empty space across the basement, before he tightened his grip on the vest, applying pressure to his wound. Despite your desire to offer assistance, you refrained. "How does one truly escape a maze," he mused, "when every exit merely leads to another entrance?"

A heavy silence enveloped the space between you. You said nothing. He said nothing. You took a few measured breaths, gathering your thoughts before finally responding. "That reasoning shouldn't serve as an excuse to stop making an effort," you asserted, while you couldn't quite fathom why you felt so nervous saying it out loud.

"Then why didn't you do it yourself, love?"

"I … have no idea what you're talking about."

"Why didn't you escape from the hell you were trapped in?"

"Wha— That's not an equivalent comparison!" Your words stumbled out, interrupted by a momentary pause as you grappled with your thoughts. "I never had the opportunity. I lacked the strength. It wasn't as if I remained there out of adoration," you clarified, your face burning with embarrassment, as if on cue, perpetually ready to be haunted by the shadows of your past, by the person you once were and continued to be. But it was strange. While one part of you struggled to be candid, another part felt comfortable talking to Vash. Safe. Familiar. Because he already knew everything about you. For he already held the knowledge of your entirety. There was no revelation about your history that would startle him, no actions of yours that would leave him aghast. This blond-haired man carried your secrets within his heart. And this realization, perhaps more than anything else, shook your very core and granted you a semblance of solace.

"Father," you persisted, the words escaping your lips as if propelled by an unseen force, your gaze fixed upon the floor, unable to break free. "he didn't let mom divorce him," you revealed, your voice filled with a mixture of anguish and resentment. "And when she needed him the most..." you faltered, abruptly halting your words, realizing the depth of what you were about to disclose, a secret too raw to expose further.

Horrified as you realized just how much you wanted to confide in him. In Vash. The very same terrible, terrible Vash who killed people before your eyes, who had wielded you as a plaything. It pained you to acknowledge that, despite everything, you felt a strange sense of safety in his presence. The honesty that flowed freely from your lips in his company ignited a self-directed hatred. You despised that, out of everyone in your life, Vash was the one person before whom you could lay bare your soul without fear of judgment.

The weight of protecting others from the haunting narrative of your father's existence had always burdened you. The fear of frightening your friends or divulging too much, for it might lead them to reconsider their trust in you, their affection for you, consumed your thoughts. Yet, with Vash, there was no need for pretenses. There were no hidden corners to shield. You longed to witness his reaction, to gain insight into his thoughts now that you had bared a glimpse of your personal history. But you couldn't make yourself face him. So you were rooted in place.

Time, it seemed to stand still. Vash remained motionless, not uttering a single word, not shifting an inch. The absence of a response only deepened the weight of humiliation that settled upon your shoulders.

Seconds flew by, swarming the room all at once, and you wanted to swat them all away; you wanted to catch them and shove them into your pockets just long enough to stop time.

At long last, he broke the silence, punctuating the stillness. "I understand," he said, his voice a gentle interruption that stirred you from your thoughts. Startled, you lifted your gaze, meeting his eyes. His head was slightly inclined, his golden locks cascading onto his forehead in delicate layers. And as your eyes intertwined, you found yourself captivated by the depth of his gaze. His eyes, an expanse of piercing blue, held a multitude of unspoken understandings within them.

"You do?" you asked.

"You're surprised."

"Then why subject me to this?" you questioned, gesturing towards the confining walls of the basement. "If you truly understand, why treat me like him?"

He shifted uneasily, displaying a hint of discomfort for the first time. "I offered you an opportunity to break free," he began, his voice laced with sincerity. "Yet, you chose to come back. It's not up to me anymore," he continued, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "You place excessive expectations upon me."

"Why not?" you asked.

A chuckle escaped him, carrying hints of amusement and weariness. He sighed, his gaze turning towards you, a smile forming at the corner of his eye. "You possess an insatiable curiosity," he remarked, his words gently teasing.

"I can't help it," you confessed. " You just seem so different now. Everything you say catches me off guard."

"How so?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it," you pondered aloud. "You're just … so calm. A little less crazy."

He laughed one of those silent laughs that shook his chest without making a sound and then groaned from pain. Your instinctive reaction was to reach his wound, your hands poised in hesitation, but you refrained from making contact. He noticed your intention, maintaining his smile in response. "My existence has been nothing but strife and ruin," he shared. "But right now," he glanced around, his eyes fixed on the wall, "removed from it all and so close to the precipice of death," he mused, "it feels like a damn paradise. I no longer have to be consumed by incessant thoughts or carry out obligations or engage with anyone or be anywhere," he expressed, a genuine contentment emanating from his words. "It's almost a form of luxury, in a way. Perhaps I should get shot more often," he added, his words drifting into the realm of introspection. As you studied him, truly studied his countenance in a way you had never dared before, you realized the profound chasm that separated you from comprehending the intricacies of his life.

He told you once that he would make different choices if he could go back in time. As you sat there, an epiphany struck you with resounding clarity. You realized the depth of his conviction, for you were just beginning to grasp the reality of his violent and disciplined existence. The true nature of his past remained a mystery to you, an enigma waiting to be unraveled. Yet, in that very moment, an unexpected yearning rooted within you. A yearning to peel back the layers, delve into the depths of his experiences, and truly comprehend his life's uncharted territory.

You observed his careful movements, the careful façade he crafted to appear unconcerned, relaxed. However, you perceived the underlying calculation behind each shift, each adjustment of his body. There was intent behind his actions, a purpose that fueled his every gesture. He remained in a perpetual state of vigilance, attentive to his surroundings. His ears were always attuned, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch the floor and the wall as if seeking reassurance. His gaze fixated on the door, scrutinizing its details—the outline, hinges, and handle. You couldn't help but notice the subtle tension rippled through him when you touched his self-inflicted scars. It was apparent he was always alert, perpetually on edge, prepared for battle, for immediate response.

It made you wonder if he'd ever known peace. Safety. If he had ever been able to sleep through the night. Suppose he'd ever been able to go anywhere without constantly looking over his own shoulder.

His hands remained tightly clasped over his wound, shielding it from further harm. As you observed him, your gaze shifted to his right forearm, and there it was—a black tattoo etched into his skin. A circle with intersecting straight lines formed a distinct pattern. It struck you with a profound realization that it had eluded your attention for far too long. Suddenly, fragments of memory flooded your mind, recalling brief glimpses of the tattoo's corners in previous encounters.

He caught you looking at his hands, quickly clenched his left fist, and covered it with his right. "Wha—"

"It's just a tattoo," he said. "It's nothing."

"Why are you hiding it if it's nothing?" You were already so much more curious than you were a moment ago, too eager for any opportunity to crack him open and figure out what on earth went on inside his head. "You're not going to tell me?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and proceeded to roll his neck, releasing the tension out of the lowest part, the part that just touched his upper back. You couldn't help but watch, couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have someone massage the pain out of your body that way. His hands looked so strong.

As your train of thought wavered, on the verge of forgetting the previous conversation, he interjected with a revelation. "I've had this tattoo for nearly two years," he disclosed, his gaze briefly meeting yours before diverting away once more. "And I don't talk about it."

"Ever?"

"No."

"Oh." A bit of disappointment washed over you, and you instinctively bit down on your bottom lip.

He let out a sigh as he flexed and unflexed his fingers. His gaze fixated on his hands, palms facing downward, fingers splayed. With a hesitant motion, he slid his sleeve up, revealing his forearm, and slowly rotated his arm to offer you a glimpse of the tattoo, his facial expression betraying a subtle twitch of discomfort.

"Have you heard of the Eye of Michael?" he asked, his question serving as an unexpected segue into a different topic.

Misunderstanding the context of his question, you shook your head. "What's happened to his eye?"

Vash's intense gaze settled upon you for a full second, and then, unexpectedly, he erupted into strong, unrestrained gales of laughter—trying to rein it in and failing. You were suddenly uncomfortable and nervous in front of this strange man who laughed and had secret tattoos and scars and asked you about people's eyes.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," you told him.

Despite your discomfort, Vash's eyes retained a warm, smiling expression as he reassured you. "Don't worry," he began, his tone reassuring. "I didn't know much about it until Nick told me. Michael was one of God's Archangels, a defender of good against evil, protecting others. This tattoo represents my family. Anyone who bears this symbol is considered part of my kin, my blood and bone, and no one can touch them."

"What about Michael's evil twin? Even Lucifer can't touch your family?"

He probably caught the horrified look on your face. It's just a tattoo, love. No one can protect anyone from Lucifer. " 

"Even you, the Diablo?" you questioned, frozen in place, wanting and not wanting to look away. Vash offered no immediate response. Every swallow was evident in his throat. You couldn't help but notice how his chest rose and fell with each exhale and inhale, and something in you compelled you to reach out, to touch his scars, to feel their texture beneath your fingertips. A blush crept across your hairline, betraying the intensity of your emotions, yet you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

You were so caught, so intrigued by the cut of his physique. Your attention was drawn to how his waist tapered into his hips, concealed beneath the fabric of his pants—a desire stirred within you, an intense longing to uncover the mysteries hidden beneath those barriers. To know him so thoroughly, so privately. You wanted to study the secrets tucked between his elbows and the whispers caught behind his knees. You wanted to follow the lines of his silhouette with your eyes and the tips of your fingers. You wanted to trace rivers and valleys along the uncharted territories of his body.

You found yourself taken aback by the intensity of your thoughts as they veered into a realm of desire and longing you hadn't anticipated. The desperate heat simmering in the pit of your stomach unsettled you, urging you to ignore its presence. Butterflies fluttered within your chest, their existence both enchanting and bewildering. An unspoken ache resonated deep within your core, a nameless yearning you were unwilling to name. Beautiful. He was so beautiful. You must be insane. Gods, where the fuck were you?

"I believe," he spoke, "that the bullet hasn't hit a vital organ. But with all the blood, I can't be sure."

"What?" Startled, you abruptly tore your gaze away from his lower half, desperately trying to keep your imagination from drawing in the details. Instead, you shifted your focus to his wound, making a conscious effort to acknowledge and address the actual situation at hand. As your eyes fell upon the injury, you managed to regain your composure, albeit momentarily. "Oh," you managed to utter, your voice betraying a touch of awkwardness. "Yes, I see it now."  The fucking wound was located at the very bottom of his torso, very close to his v line. Yes. Very good. Yes. Sure. You thought you needed to lie down.

He discreetly covered his wound once more with his vest, and as you observed, you noticed that his pants button was left open, a casual and seemingly minor detail, but WHAT THE FUCK?

"I fucking hate suit pants," he grumbled, his annoyance evident. "I don't understand why we can't simply move around in comfortable, casual clothes," he remarked, questioning the necessity of formal garments.

"Who are you?" The question escaped your lips, fueled by confusion and disbelief. You didn't know this Vash. He seemed unfamiliar, a vivid departure from the Vash you had known. Was this asshole the same man who always wore tight clothes and now was talking about wearing comfortable ones? Did he have a concussion?

A self-assured smile graced his lips as he responded, "No one else needs to know."

"What do you mean?"

Confidently, he declared, "I know who I am. And that's all that matters to me."

After a brief silence, you frowned, your gaze shifting downwards towards the floor. A hint of wistfulness colored your words as you expressed, "It must be great to go through life with so much confidence."

"You exude confidence," he said. You're stubborn and resilient. So brave. So inhumanly beautiful. You could have everything." His words caught you off guard, drawing your attention back to him. Vash's gaze bore into you, his tone carrying a lot of admiration.

Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush.

A genuine laughter escaped you as you lifted your gaze, meeting his eyes directly. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm not interested in having everything. "

"That," he stated, shaking his head, "is something I will never understand." He attributed your perspective to fear, suggesting that your reluctance stemmed from a discomfort with the unknown. According to him, your concerns revolved around the possibility of causing harm to others, driven by the weight of perceived societal expectations and adherence to the rules you had been presented with. His gaze bore into you, filled with intensity. "I wish you wouldn't," he implored, his words carrying a sense of longing for you to break free from those constraints and embrace a different approach.

"I wish you'd stop expecting me to help you slaughter people."

He shrugged nonchalantly, his voice carrying a sense of matter-of-factness. "I never explicitly stated that it was a requirement for you," he responded. "However, it is an inherent part of this line of work, an inevitable occurrence along the way. In this business, killing is statistically implausible to evade."

"You're joking, right?"

"Definitely not."

"You can always avoid killing people, Vash. You avoid killing them by not doing this business."

A radiant grin adorned his face, seemingly unaffected by the previous conversation. His attention was elsewhere, captivated by a different sentiment. "I love it when you say my name," he said. "I don't even know why."

"Vash is your name," you pointed out. "I can call you Saverem."

His smile was wide, so vast. "God, I love that."

"Your name?"

"Especially when you say it."

"Vash? Or Saverem?"

His eyelids lowered, and he leaned back against the couch, revealing a pair of charming dimples. In that instant, the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. Here you were, sitting together with Vash as if you had abundant time to spare. It was as if the outside world, with all its turmoil, ceased to exist within the confines of these walls. And yet, Vash's injured state served as a harsh reminder that he was bleeding before you, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind.

You couldn't fathom how you kept allowing yourself to be distracted, and you promised to regain control over your thoughts and emotions. But just as you were about to speak, Vash interjected with a confession, "I'm sorry I ordered them to kidnap you."

Your mouth dropped shut, and your mind raced, resisting the weight of his confession. A torrent of questions raged within you, desperate for answers. "Why?" The floodgates of your emotions burst forth, urging you to understand the motives behind his unexpected revelations. Inwardly, you pleaded for your heart to quiet down, to cease its relentless clamor in the face of the unsettling truths that had been brought to light. "Why are you saying all of these?"

He spent far too long looking at you, leaving your question unanswered. He spoke with a heavy weight of remorse, barely above a whisper. "Every single day, I am sorry," he confessed, his words laden with a deep sense of sorrow. "I am sorry for believing that taking you captive would somehow serve as a solution. And then, for causing you pain when I believed I was acting in the right. I cannot apologize for who I am," he continued. "That part of me is already gone, already ruined. I gave up on myself a long time ago. But I am sorry for failing to understand you better. Everything I did was driven by a desire for revenge, to wield you as a weapon against that man. I pushed you too far, too hard, and did things to horrify and disgust you, and I did it all on purpose. Because that's how I was taught to steel myself against the terror in this world; that's how I was trained to fight back," he admitted, his gaze unwavering as he scrutinized you intently.

You tried so hard to recall all the justifications for harboring hatred towards him, desperately attempting to summon memories of the atrocious acts you had witnessed him commit. But you were tortured because you understood too much about what it was like to be tortured, to do things because you didn't know any better, to do things because you thought they were right, because you were never taught what was wrong. Because it was so hard to be kind to the world when all you'd ever felt was hatred. Because it was so hard to see goodness in the world when all you'd ever known was terror.

And you wanted to say something to him. Something profound and complete and memorable, but he already seemed to understand. Because he offered you a strange, unsteady smile that didn't reach his eyes but said so much

A sudden tightness gripped your heart, causing a jolt of panic to run through you. You'd almost begun to hyperventilate, and you realized, for the very first time, that the thought of Vash dead was anything but appealing to you. It filled you with horror, a sensation that struck your face, skull, and spine, knowing how much you cared about him. As well as the knowledge of his deep care for you.

You took a deep breath. Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject.

In a barely audible whisper, you found yourself uttering, "All those wounds are your brother's doing?" As you spoke, you observed a subtle draining of color from his face, mirroring the impact of your question. He looked away, tightly pressed his lips together, and instinctively placed his hands upon his wound. In a soft tone, you inquired, "Who hurt you like this?" You asked so quietly. Then you began to recognize the strange feeling you got just before you did something terrible. Like right now. Right now, you felt like you could kill someone for this.

"Love, please—"

"Where was your family during all of this?" you questioned, your voice a little sharper. "Why didn't your mother—"

"I'm a Mafia hitman, for fuck sake," Vash cuts you off, frustrated now. "IT IS NORMAL TO HAVE SCARS."

"No, it's not!"

He said nothing.

"These tattoos," you said to him, "are you hiding—"

"No," he said, though he said it quietly and cleared his throat. "I'm not ashamed of my scars!"

You blinked. "Then why are you—?"

"Why do you care?" he asks, looking away again. "Why are you suddenly so interested in my life?"

You didn't know, you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him you didn't know, but that was not true. For in that very moment, you felt it. You heard the symphony of the clicks, turns, and the echoing creaks of a million keys, unlocking a million doors in your mind. It was like you were finally allowing yourself to see what you thought and felt like you were discovering your long-hidden secrets for the very first time. And then you searched his eyes, surveyed his features for something you couldn't quite articulate. And you realized you didn't want to hate him anymore.

"I thought," you addressed him, "you wanted us to be friends." Your gaze fixated on the floor as you spoke. "If that's the case," you continued, "why can't you be honest? Why are you still trying to manipulate me? Why are you still trying to get me to fall for your tricks?"

"I have no idea," he responded, his gaze fixed upon you with a hint of uncertainty as if questioning the reality of your presence. "No idea what you're talking about."

"I don't even know how to communicate—"

"Why does it matter?" he questioned. "You seem to care so much about something that makes no difference in your life. It wouldn't," he said, "change your perception of me. You will still hate me. After all, that's what you said, isn't it? That you hate me?"

You drew your knees closer to your chest, directing your attention towards the stone beneath your feet. "I don't hate you."

Vash seemed to stop breathing.

"I don't know," you told him, "there are moments when I feel like I truly understand you. I genuinely do. However, just when I believe I have gained a true understanding of who you are, you manage to surprise me. And I never really know who you are or who you're going to be."

Raising your gaze, you met his eyes directly. "Nevertheless," you continued, "what I do know is that I no longer hate you. I've made sincere efforts to do so, believe me. Given the terrible, unforgivable acts you've committed against innocent people, including myself, it would be expected. But as I've come to learn more about you and witnessed the depths of your humanity, it has become increasingly difficult to cling to that hatred. Sadly, you are flawed and undeniably human."

His hair possessed a captivating golden hue while his eyes shimmered with a vivid blue brilliance. His voice was tortured when he spoke. "Are you implying," he said, "that you can accept my offer?"

"I-I don't know," you stammered, petrified by the sheer terror surrounding this possibility. "I'm just saying that I don't know." Pausing briefly, you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts. "I don't know," you confessed. "I don't know how to hate you anymore. Even though I want to, it's something I genuinely want, and I know I should, but I find myself unable to."

He looked away and smiled. The kind of smile that made you forget how to do everything but blink and blink. Perplexed, you couldn't fathom why your eyes refused to divert their attention elsewhere. Your heart, meanwhile, seemed to be losing its mind.

Almost absentmindedly, he touched his wrist, seemingly unaware of his actions. His fingers traced along his arm, gliding back and forth, until he suddenly became cognizant of where your eyes had gone and stopped.

"You sure about what you're saying?" He touched his wrist again.

You nodded.

Upon hearing his word, "Love," a profound stillness encapsulated your being, causing your breath to hitch momentarily. "I would greatly appreciate that," he continued, his voice conveying sincerity. "To have us getting to know each other right from the beginning." Another smile graced his face, radiating warmth and genuine desire. "Yes, I would truly like that," he affirmed.

The workings of your mind eluded your understanding. Perhaps it stemmed from the realization that he was broken, and you were naive enough to think you could fix him. Maybe it was because you saw your own reflection within him. Both of you had experienced abandonment, neglect, mistreatment, and abuse for circumstances beyond your control. In Vash, you saw a kindred spirit, someone who, like you, had been denied a fair shot at life. You thought about how everyone already hated him, how hating him was an accepted fact.

Again, you reminded yourself that Vash was a terrible person with no room for debate, doubt, or inquiry. The consensus had been reached: he was a loathsome human being who derived pleasure from violence, held an insatiable thirst for power, and reveled in the torment of others. But you wanted to know. You needed to know. You had to know if it was really that simple. Because what if, one fateful day, you were to stumble? What if you were to slip through the cracks, and no one extended a helping hand to retrieve you? What would become of you then?

So you met his eyes and took a deep breath.

But in an unexpected turn of events, the metallic door swung open, revealing the entrance of Lucifer, with his gray patterned suit, cold green eyes, and pale blond hair.

Hell was empty, and all devils were here tonight.

*

No one was speaking.

Surprisingly, the basement wasn't a terrible place to spend the cursed birthday night, despite the unsettling odor emanating from the assholes' lifeless bodies. It was relatively peaceful, but the approaching footsteps of his twin sibling served as an irritating accompaniment to an already nerve-wracking day.

God damn you, Bradd, for telling Kni!

"So," Vasg's maniac twin finally addressed him, curiosity lacing their words, "you chose to leave our gathering and return here?"

"I'm certain," Vash responded sarcastically, "I have the freedom to act as I please." There was a brief pause before he continued, "Does this disturb you in any way?"

"Regrettably, that is not the case; I thought you would rather spend your time with those selected girls," Kni replied, and his gaze swept over you, carefully observing you up and down, examining your bloodied outfit, your hair, your pale yet perfect face. Though Kni remained silent, Vash sensed his disapproval and, ultimately, his disappointment towards you. "But you chose this doormat," he finished his sentence.

Abruptly, you turned away, though not without Vash catching a glimpse of your tightly clenched fists at your sides. He could feel the anger emanating from you, and it pained him deeply. The way Kni toyed with your emotions stirred a fierce resentment within Vash, igniting an intense desire to inflict harm upon his brother, even if just a bullet to the leg, but he had to keep it cool.

"Why have you come here, Kni?" Vash inquired, drawing a deep breath and exerting more pressure on his wound as if to ground himself in the midst of the escalating tension.

Kni responded with a casual shrug, displaying the perfect nonchalance. "My plans are flexible," he remarked. "I heard you got shot and was genuinely curious to witness it firsthand." His gaze briefly shifted towards his twin. "Do brothers truly require a specific reason to meet?" And for a moment, the briefest moment, Vash sensed genuine pain behind his words —a sensation of being overlooked. It caught him off guard, surprising him with its presence. But just as quickly as it emerged, it vanished into thin air.

"In any case," Kni remarked, "Bradd should have arrived by now. After all, you contacted him before contacting me, assuming he would care for you more than I do. Yet here you are, clearly in need of medical assistance, and instead, you have this little whore by your side."

As your eyes locked with Vash, your visibly sorrowful gaze conveyed the anguish that resonated deeply with him. He would never reassure you or alleviate your worries in front of Kni, and it wasn't important since he suddenly seized Vash's arm with a firm grip and forcefully pulled him forward.

"What are you doing, Vash?" Kni's voice turned into a fierce, urgent whisper. "You abandoned me, only to end up getting shot—for what? For her? For Gasback's daughter?" His words dripped with disdain. "How incredibly foolish of you. And mark my words, this will not end well." Kni's eyes bore a warning, and instantly, Vash felt it—the unlocking of a long-held secret buried deep within his heart. A terrible sense of unease settled in the pit of Vash's stomach, accompanied by a nauseating feeling and a feeling of dread. And at last, he comprehended what he had been trying to deny: Kni wouldn't hesitate. No, he wouldn't.

Vash tightly pressed his lips together, his anger simmering dangerously close to shattering his composure. Yet, he remained resolute, knowing he had to maintain a semblance of civility for your sake. Meanwhile, Kni's grip on his arm intensified, exerting even more pressure. Their eyes locked in a tense gaze. Only Vash's determination to protect you prevented him from exacting physical retaliation, as he understood that inflicting harm upon Kni would be sufficient grounds for Kni to seek your demise.

"What has become of you?" Kni hissed into Vash's ear, his words laced with disappointment. "I had more faith in you. But this..." Kni trailed off, shaking his head in a gesture of sadness. "This is genuinely heart-wrenching."

Vash's fingers tensed, aching to curl into fists, and he was on the verge of offering a retort when you, who had been observing the exchange from afar, interjected, saying, "Let go of him."

Your voice had an undeniable sense of poise, an undercurrent of barely contained anger that seized Kni's attention. Startled, he released his grip on Vash's arm and swiftly turned to face you. "Your brother requires assistance," you spoke calmly but with an edge of reproach, "and yet here you stand, delivering grandiose speeches?"

Kni stared at you. "Excuse me?"

You stepped forward, suddenly looking terrifying. There was a fire in your eyes—a murderous stillness in your movements.

Kni's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his forehead creasing with astonishment. He blinked, momentarily taken aback, and then a hint of annoyance laced his response. "Ah, I wasn't aware you had been granted permission to speak," he retorted.

"I wasn't aware that I required your permission," you calmly replied, asserting yourself. "Especially considering that this is undeniably his dwelling." Though your hands might have trembled, you had managed to maintain a firm grip, a testament to your resilience and composure—clever girl, but dumb as hell.

Kni's smile widened, and he laughed out loud. And for the first time since he'd arrived, he actually looked sincere. His eyes crinkled with delight. "Little bug, you have a long tongue, and I have sharp knives," he addressed you. Better to say threatened you. "Vash, you've been given too much freedom, and she behaves like a stray dog. Where's her leash? Because your dear Bradd is not here yet, and we have to find a doctor for you since you killed the one we had—which I'm not even questioning—now she looks at me like she gonna bite me if I try to save you from bleeding."

Vash saw that you looked at him then, a question in your eyes. He wanted to smile at you. He wanted to scoop and carry you away, take you somewhere quiet, and lose himself. He was amazed that the timid girl, a little mouse beneath him, would just stand this brave before Kni. Braver than he had ever been. His thoughts should have surprised him, but he blamed the bullet for everything because somehow you looked so fuckable with his blood on your clothes and skin, and he had no shame admitting this to himself. It turned out to be fortunate that he had bled to the point of unconsciousness because, otherwise, in his healthy state, he wouldn't have known how to express his gratitude by making you moan his name with his dick shoved deeply in your throat.

Fuck!

He tried to hold on to it as long as he could without making things evident to Kni, but he thought his heart was still in a puddle somewhere on the floor. He was so stunned that it took him a moment to realize that not only had he stared at you the whole time, but he had also begun to remember what it felt like.

Hope.

The sensation, it was like tasting a drop of honey, witnessing a field of geraniums in full bloom during springtime. It felt like the refreshing touch of rain, a whispered promise of something beautiful, a sky devoid of clouds, and the flawless punctuation mark that gracefully concludes a sentence.

You.

You were…

"I won't be long," Vash said in a firm, cold tone. "Go back to your room and lock the door behind you." He hated himself for acting like this because he could see that you were about to smile, and suddenly your face transformed again. No. He couldn't do this to you.

While still sitting behind Nai, he slowly lowered his hand and crossed his bloody middle finger on his forefinger. His peace sign. And he saw that you saw it because you nodded, and the corner of your lips moved upward. There was a rush of emotion in your eyes. You knew pain. You were in pain, and he was the reason, yet you tried to help. And knowing this made his heart feel so full that he could hardly breathe. It lasted only a few seconds, but somehow, time slowed down long enough for him to gather the many details of this moment and place it among his favorite memories.

You could have left him alone and run away, but you didn't. You likely knew that he would never find that missing piece of belief if you let go. If he slipped today, he would be lost forever, with no one to return him. You didn't fix everything or solve any of his problems. But what mattered most was that you stayed.

He was suddenly grateful for being shot because it made him know that there was still something within him that others could perceive, something worth protecting and saving.

The veiled tapestry of the future held its secrets, concealing what lay ahead. Within the realm of prospective deliverance, his shadows may not have cast a shroud too dense to dim the flicker of redemption's promise.

Note: Apologies for the delayed update. Life has been quite a bitch lately.

Taglist: @julk4e - @lune010 - @beanibon - @emptybrain01 - @changingchances @awkwardchick87

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

538 of 2023

I would never want to read a book electronically. I enjoy going to Blockbusters, etc. I would rather rent my DVDs there than from my TV at home. ^ I’m sad to hear that Blockbuster claimed bankruptcy. I ate some sort of sandwich today. My love life has been more complicated than usual lately. My friends and I keep updated on each other’s lives by recording video posts while we’re away at school. I have recently pulled an all-nighter. My favorite Italian ice flavor is mango. I do not mind filling up gas for my car. I have the Kim Possible ring tone. I wear sunglasses almost every day. I have been craving a certain type of food for a while. I do not play computer games. I play a small amount of video games. I have been discovering a lot of new music recently. If I attended Hogwarts, I would not like to be sorted into Gryffindor. My favorite movie is a musical, or one of them is. I would rather rent a movie with friends on a Friday night than go to a party. I am open to trying new foods. I have not/will not gain the freshmen fifteen. When carving pumpkins, I usually make some sort of silly or themed face. I like to drive around and look at Christmas lights in December. I have certain traditions when decorating the Christmas tree. I refuse to use a fake Christmas tree. It has to be real. I am okay with the prospect of commuting in college. I have tried a long-distance relationship before. ^ I did not work out. I was a 90’s kid. I recently had chocolate. I enjoy rereading books and rewatching movies. I feel bad when downloading music. But $1.29!? I did not get my nails or hair done professionally for any proms I attended. I do not have my car on campus. ^ which means I don’t drive much anymore :( I like bad radio music. I also like underground music. I also like musicals. I am typing on a macbook pro. I would rather someone else drive when going out with friends. I ate at Sbarro’s recently. Someday, I hope to go to Europe. (lol) I do not update my facebook status daily. It was near seventy degrees today. I have never been on a road trip. I have been to Disney World three or more times. I haven’t tried that many sexual positions. I am dressing up for the last Harry Potter movie. It makes me furious that Breaking Dawn is being split into two parts. Generally, I do not like parody movies. I did not like The Princess and the Frog very much. I have been to at least twenty of the U.S. States I have taken someone’s first kiss. I can’t sleep in long sleeves. I am ALWAYS at least a little bit tired. I do not bite my nails. I think Inception was overrated. My current favorite band is not from the U.S. I do not have a tumblr. I follow some tumblrs though. I love junior mints. I do not use an electric toothbrush. I share a shower with more than one other person. I don’t mind chores. ^ But I hate cleaning bathrooms. I’ve dated a saxophone player. Guitar player. Cello player. Trumpet player. Baritone player. Piano player. Someone who was bisexual. Someone who hated the music I liked.

[theultimatefan]

Esposito, Gunn, David, Swallow among Next Wave of Celebrities to Attend FAN EXPO Portland in January

FAN EXPO Portland today announced its next wave of celebrity guests, and with eight additions to the standout roster that already includes favorites from across many fandoms, there will be something—and someone—for everyone at this year’s convention, set for January 12-14, 2024, at the Oregon Convention Center.

Joining the annual pop culture extravaganza are Giancarlo Esposito (“The Mandalorian,” “Breaking Bad), Sean Gunn (Guardians of the Galaxy, “Avengers: Infinity War”), Keith David (The Thing, The Princess and the Frog), Emily Swallow (“The Mandalorian,” “Supernatural”), Jeff Ward (“One Piece,” “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.”), Titus Welliver (“Bosch,” “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.”), Ethan Suplee (“My Name is Earl,” Remember the Titans) and Eman Esfandi (“Ahsoka,” King Richard).

The prolific veteran film, television and stage actor, director and producer Esposito, in addition to his role as “Moff Gideon” on the Disney+ series “The Mandalorian,” is well known by television audiences for his iconic portrayal of drug kingpin “Gus Fring” in AMC’s critically acclaimed award-winning series “Breaking Bad.” Some of Esposito’s most memorable performances can be seen in films such as Rabbit Hole, The Usual Suspects, Smoke, The Last Holiday and Spike Lee’s films Do the Right Thing, Mo’ Better Blues, School Daze and Malcolm X.

Gunn played "Kraglin" in Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) and its sequels in 2017 and this year, as well as providing the physical performance via motion capture for "Rocket Raccoon" in the films plus Avengers: Infinity War, Endgame and Thor: Love and Thunder. He also portrayed "Kirk Gleason" throughout the seven-year run of "Gilmore Girls" among his 60+ acting credits.

David co-starred as “Childs” in the 1982 horror classic The Thing opposite Kurt Russell and Wilford Brimley. He has won three Emmys and is a Tony award nominee. In addition to a solid body of on-screen live action work in films such as 21 Bridges, Crash and Platoon, he has made quite a name in voice acting, lending his talents to feature films like The Princess and the Frog and the Ken Burns documentary Jackie Robinson among hundreds of credits.

With her portrayal of “The Armorer” in “The Mandalorian” in the hit Netflix series “The Mandalorian,” Swallow added another role to her growing resume. She also appeared as “Kim Fischer,” a regular on “The Mentalist” and as “Amara / The Darkness” in the 11th season of “Supernatural.” She also lent her voice to the role of “Lisa Tepes” in the animated Netflix fantasy action series “Castlevania.”

Ward currently stars as “Buggy” in the action Netflix series “One Piece,” following up on a three-year, 45-episode spin in “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D” as “Deke Shaw,” the complex character who proved popular with fans. He also co-starred in the 2021 Netflix horror/drama mini-series “Brand New Cherry Flavor” and portrayed Charles Manson in the Lifetime TV movie “Manson’s Lost Girls” in 2016.

Welliver starred in the title role in the decorated Netflix series “Bosch” and its current Freevee sequel “Bosch: Legacy.” He’s a familiar face to viewers, having appeared in more than 100 productions including Argo, Gone Baby Gone, “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” “The Good Wife,” “Deadwood” and many others.

Suplee has had nearly 100 film and TV roles, from comedies like the Kevin Smith productions Mallrats, Dogma and Clerks III, “My Name is Earl,” and “Boy Meets World” to dramas such as Remember the Titans and The Butterfly Effect.

Esfandi co-starred opposite Rosario Dawson, David Tennant and Mary Elizabeth Winstead in this year’s Disney+ miniseries “Ahsoka,” part of the Star Wars universe. He has also been seen in King Richard with Will Smith and The Inspection with Jeremy Pope and Gabrielle Union.

The eight are added to a strong FAN EXPO Portland celebrity roster that includes Jon Bernthal (“The Punisher,” “The Walking Dead”), the “Charmed” duo of Holly Marie Combs and Rose McGowan, the "Daredevil" tandem of Charlie Cox and Vincent D'Onofrio, Lana Parrilla (“Once Upon a Time,” “Spin City”), Danny Trejo (Machete, The Book of Boba Fett), Peter Cullen (Transformers), Jason Lee (Vanilla Sky, Almost Famous) and Peter Weller (RoboCop, The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension.

FAN EXPO Portland features the biggest and best in pop culture: movies, TV, music, artists, writers, exhibitors, cosplay, with three full days of themed programming to satisfy every fandom.

Single-Day Tickets, Three-Day Passes, and Ultimate Fan Packages for FAN EXPO Portland are available now. Advance pricing is available until December 28, 2023. More guest news will be released in the following weeks, including line-up reveals for comic creator guests, voice actors, and cosplayers.

Portland is the second event on the 2024 FAN EXPO HQ calendar; the full schedule is available at fanexpohq.com/home/events/.

[voxmyriad]

13-23 for the ask meme

Goddamn, all right then let's do this

13. first thing you’re doing in the purge? Bank robbing time, there are two within a few blocks of me

14. do you think you’re dehydrated? ...actually I might be, my water is too cold to enjoy, time to make tea instead. Most of the time I am pretty good about not getting dehydrated, but I've been chilly today

15. rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning Freezing is definitely the best one out of these. Then drowning. I have a fear of burning, no thank you

16. thoughts on mint chocolate chip? Like, ice cream? I like mint chocolate chip ice cream. Mint and chocolate is something I do enjoy

17. an anxious compulsion you do everyday? Hmm...having my phone nearby still feels a little compulsion-like, since I get anxious if it's in another room

18. your boba/tea order? Taro milk tea with tapioca boba

19. the veggie you dislike the most? It's still green beans. I just cannot deal with the flavor. No matter how fresh and well-prepared they are, I can only taste dirt

20. favorite disney princess movie? Star Wars It used to be Sleeping Beauty, and Phillip is still my favorite disney prince, but it might be Moana now

21. a number that weirds you out? I don't know that I've ever thought about it before, but when I read this question the number 17 popped into my head

22. do you have an emotional support water bottle? I have two cold cups that I carry everywhere in the house with me, but no water bottles I take outside

23. do you wear jewelry? I never leave the house without big earrings at minimum, and often the usual nine rings that adorn my fingers, possibly also a necklace or two

[heffey267268]

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[chocoenvy]

CONGRATS ON 900+ CHOCOOOOO! For my order I'f lke a Standard Chocolate bar with bitter golden envy flavor! With sweet honeyed syrup! With an additional 3. I'll send it to Xiao! From regular reader!

An order for the 900+ Follower event

Coming right up!

You'd like a choco bar (standard short story) with bitter golden envy flavoring (villain au) with added honeyed syrup (disney princess tag). You want to send Xiao "You can fly away with me tonight" from regular reader. Got it!

*~Notes: two sad gremlins think they're gonna kill each other but actually fall in platonic (or romantic if you want) love.

*~Warnings: Cult behaviors, villain au, Xiao is depressed, everyone thinks they're gonna die but no one does

The moment he laid eyes on you he knew he couldn't follow through with Rex Lapis' orders. He swore loyalty, he never hesitated with kills, and yet when your eyes met him he paused.

They were filled with so much familiarity. You'd known him for 500 years or more, you'd loved him for 500 years or more.

He was a traitor today, he realized, as his spear clattered to the ground. A traitor to you and your warm gaze that wiped a millennia of pain from his shoulders.

He was a traitor to Rex Lapis, as well. For not killing you the moment he found you.

In every sense, once more, he was in the wrong. Someone would hate him, everyone would hate him.

He bitterly bit the inside of his cheek and dug his nails into the palms of his hands as he got on his knees before you. Of course this would happen to him, there was no one else fit of such a punishment. Nobody else deserved this but him.

His forehead touched the ground, he muttered hurried apologies. He didn't want to force you to listen to his voice. One you no doubt hated.

He awaited a strike, prepared himself for the pain. It'd be well-deserved for almost killing you, his god. The one he devoted so much time to, the one he and all of Liyue adored.

After a moment of stunned silence, you finally moved. He stiffened.

You grabbed his head and lifted it, cupping his cheeks with tears running down your face. You smiled, and the weight constantly on his mind, weighing his heart and shoulders down, almost fully disappeared within that one moment. He felt as though he could fly.

"Thank you." You whispered happily through the tears.

*~

You took a stunned Xiao to your temporary home in the undergrounds of Liyue. In a cave long forgotten, or maybe it was new. Either way, it was your small abode for the time being. Nothing too grand or nice was in there, just a bed to sleep in and a few trinkets.

Xiao took it all in, dedicating every item to memory. It must be important if it belonged to you, after all.

"Xiao," you grinned, "Do you wanna see something? As a thank you for not hurting me?"

He blinked, "I- I merely did what the rest of Teyvat should've done... but..." Your eyes were hopeful, staring at him, "Yes please."

You giggled and grabbed his hand. He swore his heart nearly beat out of his chest. You dragged him to a corner of the room and moved a miscellaneous rock aside.

You heaved to move it and gently, Xiao helped you, moving it with ease.

"Thanks," You sighed with a smile.

Behind the rock was a small opening, one that you squeezed yourself through. Xiao didn't dare question you, and instead followed you in.

After a minute of walking through the tight space, so tight he could hardly breathe comfortably, the cave opened up. He could stand up properly now, and even though it was still uncomfortable there was enough room for him and you.

It was when the path started to curve upwards was when Xiao realized what was happening.

It was merciful, wasn't it? He thought, to die by your hand. If it wasn’t you it’d be Rex Lapis, or all of Liyue. Out of all of them, he preferred you.

He was silent behind you, preparing himself for his death. Would you play with him before he died? Why did you want him high up? Punishment?

His heart clenched as he stared at your back with a million questions. He voiced none of them. No matter what you had in store for him, he’d take it. It was his punishment.

Though your thank you still rang in his mind, he knew it was fake. To get you to trust him, so he’d follow you, so you could kill him. Or perhaps it was to make this more painful, either way, he wouldn’t complain.

A peak of light shone through the cave and you rushed to place your hand on the stone. You had a pep in your step and he could hear a breath of laughter escape past your lips, it made his stomach queasy.

You used all your strength to move the rock blocking the entrance, quite a flimsy cover-up for someone accused of a great crime but you hadn’t got caught yet he supposed.

He quietly hissed at the bright sun, harsh on his eyes after the dim cave. But he was quick to follow you once you started moving. The two of you were on top of a mountain, overlooking the vast expanse of Liyue and beyond. The sun cradling your form. He saw you smile and looked back at him.

His limbs loosened, he knew what was to occur next and he couldn’t help but feel relieved. He’d finally be free. Or at least he hoped.

You grabbed his hand, softly, and he closed his eyes.

“Xiao?” Your grip on his hand softened, you were looking at him, “Do you like the view?”

He opened his eyes and gazed out at the waves of Liyue. The waves of people that hated you, that probably now hated him.

He nodded, he fished for his voice but found none. He opted to stay quiet.

You hummed, a small, nervous, scared(?) smile on your face, “I’m glad. This is where I’ve watched over Teyvat since I’ve gotten here. I wanted-” You choked on the beginnings of tears in your throat, “I wanted to show everyone how pretty it was,” The grip on his hand, “But nobody wanted to follow me. But, now I have you!” You grinned up at him, ignoring the beautiful lands below you, “You’re the first person I’ve shown this to, because you’re the first person that didn’t try to kill me. Or, well, stopped trying to kill me I guess.” There was no amusement in your little laugh.

Xiao felt his soul cry, years of karma may have abated in your presence but guilt still ate at his heart.

Your hands shook as you reached out for him, “Can I,” You sniffled pathetically, “Can I have a hug?”

Xiao frowned but obliged, holding you close.

You weren’t going to kill him, but that didn’t lessen the unease in his heart. How utterly upsetting the sight of you, the all-powerful, seeking love and refuge in the vigilant yaksha’s arms. Arms that couldn’t even love their owner.

He silently swore another oath to you, one he never thought would be necessary.

To make the whole of Teyvat love you once again. Whether it was through peaceful or violent means didn’t matter to him. More blood on his hands and conscience was inconsequential if it was to wipe your tears permanently.

[granddetectivecollection]

I HAVE MORE PICS OF THE BLOND BOI(and X too)

so, i have been brainrotting abt the mangas a lot BC OF HOW OF A ROLLERCOASTER THEY ARE

also there's this figure of the first manga and i

I-

eueueueu

Are you drunk?(the translation is something like

Xeeee... thank

Cain:I was never able to talk to you, I was very worried

X:I'm sorry, it's that...

Cain: Come on, what's that "sorry"?

X: Dr, Are you drunk?

Cain: Oh, are you worried about me?

I am so sorry

X: yeah...

Cain: that's our hero, ladies and gentlemen, rockman X!)

THE BABY BOI

translation:

Cain: well, now drink and drink because the night is young!

take my new oil drink, which I formulated especially for you, it took me a lot of time and effort.

X:-it can be translated as a nervious laugh or a yeah-

Cain:come on! don't be a killjoy

X:-disgusting.png-

Cain: that's my special green juice flavored oil drink

someone idk who it is: I never thought he would resent him so much for not contacting him.

MF WAS LOOKING AT HIM I'M- thisbitchesgay

(translation-ish

Zero: Don't you think any hero shouldn't miss this view?

X: view? what are you looking at?

Zero: the stars...

X: stars... but you're looking down

Zero: if you call space a starry sky, there would also be a starry sky on the surface of the earth

X:On the surface of the earth?

Zero:yeah, come see

they are so beautiful these stars

X: hmmm..

Zero: just look at them

X: oh..)

THEY COMPARED EACHOTHER WITH THE MOON AND THE SUN WKANAWJBFES IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY WTF

(X: A starry sky...

Zero: yes... and you're the one who protected it.

(idk who say it exactly this part and also the wiki doesn't make it more clear so, i think i'll specify the parts that i find are clear)

you are like the sun in this sky, with you these stars will always shine...

and that shine that you give off not only helped me

dr, marty and the world receive your light, that hope you give us is what keeps us alive

X: and the one who helped me from the beginning... it was always you Zero.

I would never have been able to shine if you hadn't been with me...

Zero: Heh, my brightness is much less than yours, if you shine like the sun

I would be the moon

X: now that you mention it Zero... today the moon looks like you

MEJSBGFES THEY,,, THE BABIES THEY JUST :C

<3 (those pics are from the first ep of the X4 manga, PLEASE DON'T READ IT FROM THERE ON WAJBFES ITS A WHOLE ROLLERCOASTER)

h e

disney princess/j

[xiaq]

Story time: group work

Ok so in my technical writing class we’re talking about using visuals in a persuasive document or argument.

I start each unit with a “fun” exercise to get them talking and then move on to a “serious” exercise to make sure they’ve actually internalized the information.

Today, I had them split into teams and construct an argument, using a bracket flow chart to assist them, to demonstrate the best ever _____ (insert item of choice here).

There is nothing quite like the joy of hearing a group of late-teen/early twenties folks vehemently disagree about whether white chocolate counts as chocolate or not. Or if a Cheeze-It is a cracker or a chip. Or if the Hunchback of Notre Dame was meant to caution children of the dangers of Catholic doctrine.

Anyway. It was a class full of chatter, laughter, and very entertaining presentations with compelling arguments which included one group leader breaking down their argument as if they were a sports commentator.

Our results:

Best Disney Movie: Mulan, which beat out various other competitors because of “female empowerment,” “POC princess importance,” “religious/spiritual representation,” “bisexual representation,” “most sing-able soundtrack,” and “a dragon.”

Best cookie: Chocolate chip, which beat out various other competitors because of “aesthetic,” “traditional value,” “texture,” “ease of change to fit dietary needs,” “versatility” (tasty warm or cold, soft or crisp) and “good with milk (dairy or otherwise).”

Best candy: M&Ms, which beat out various other competitors because of “snackability,” “portability,” “ease of consumption,” “share-ability,” “higher melting point,” “satisfying crunch/softness ratio,” “diversity” (because of all the colors, lol), and “structural integrity.”

Best chips: Pringles, which beat out various other competitors because of “pleasing shape,” “less air in container,” “multipurpose use” (because you can use them to make a duck-face), “portability,” and “variety” (because they come in so many flavors).

[raeynbowboi]

Building an Embodiment of the Fairytale Princess in Dnd 5e

No matter who you are, when someone mentions fairytales, we all think of the stock characters. You’ve got your beloved princess, your charming prince, and your tempting witch, with maybe a malicious dragon thrown in for flavor. And that’s what we’re looking to build today. Not any specific princess, but rather an amalgomation of every fairytale princess and princess trope in one character.

For race, we’ll go with a human, or to be more specific a variant human. We were blessed by fairies since birth, and they gave us the gift of magic. The fairies gave you magical beauty and grace for +1 CHA and +1 DEX, as well as the gift of song for Performance for your fey-blessed skill. Tasha’s introduced the new feature Fey-Touched which gives our princess +1 CHA, the spell Misty Step, and one other 1st level divination or enchantment spell from any spell list. Charm Person, Command, and Sleep are all fine options.

For alignment, we’re practically a saint, so we’re lawful good.

And for background we’re a pretty obvious Noble for Persuasion and History.

To be a classic fairytale princess, we’re going to need to be able to sing, summon critters to do our chores, and have a fairy godmother who watches over us. The best way to do all three is to be a Bard and an Archfey Warlock. However, in order to use the Bard to their full extent, the Bard has to reach level 18 to get all of their bardic secrets. Luckily, everything we need from the Warlock can be gotten in the first two levels. All we need from Warlock are the spells Eldritch Blast, Mage Hand, Armor of Agathys, Charm Person, and Unseen Servant. Then we get two eldritch invocations, we’ll pick up Beast Speech so we can talk to animals permanently and agonizing blast to make our eldritch blast a more effective cantrip.

For this build, Charisma is our top priority. We’ll want a good Constitution to maintain concentration spells, a good Dexterity since all we’re wearing is a set of clothes (fine), and a good Wisdom score primarily for the use of Animal Handling. Strength and Intelligence will get dumped. We’ll be sure to take up expertise with Animal Handling, Persuasion, Performance, and Religion, because you’re a good medieval girl who eats all her vegetables and goes to bed on time.

Fairytale-Based Spells

Basic Fairies

Dancing Lights: they’re called fairy lights for a reason. Faerie Fire: faerie lights that help you keep track of foes. Healing Spirit: a nature spirit with a fey appearance that heals your party. Spirit Guardians: They can take on a fey appearance, dealing radiant damage Conjure Woodland Beings: You summon fey creatures to help you fight. Conjure Fey: you summon a greater fey to help you fight

Snow White

Armor of Agathys: Surround yourself in a barrier of ice when injured. Reflavor as Snow White’s glass coffin.

Cinderella

True Polymorph: the fairygodmother turned mice into horses and a pumpkin into a carriage. Wish: everything the fairygodmother did was to make Cinderella’s wish come true.

Sleeping Beauty

Dawn: a loose connection, but one of sleeping beauty’s names is Aurora or Dawn. Dream: useful for when you’re asleep and need to call someone to save you. Wall of Thorns: to keep the princess safe, the fairies raised a ticket of thorns around the castle, which only parted for the handsome prince.

The Little Mermaid

Suggestion: Mermaids have hypnotic voices that lure men to their deaths. Tidal Wave: Mermaids control the tides and waves Mass Suggestion: How to brainwash an entire ship crew. Control Weather: Mermaids were blamed for violent sea storms. Tsunami: Like tidal wave, just bigger and more destructive.

Beauty and the Beast

Unseen Servant: In the original story, the beast’s servants were invisible. Tiny Servant: to bring a tiny object to life, like the Disney version. Animate Objects: make the room attack someone, like the Disney version. Charm Monster: beauty soothes the savage beast.

Rapunzel

Rope Trick: You create a safe pocket dimension that can only be reached by climbing. Galder’s Tower: create a two story tower. Reminiscent of Rapunzel’s Tower.

Race: Variant Human Background: Noble Alignment: Lawful Good Class: Glamour Bard (18)             Archfey Warlock (2) Base Stats: Strength: 8 (-1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 16 (+3) Intelligence: 10 (0) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 20 (+5) Saving Throws: Strength: -1 Dexterity: +8 Constitution: +3 Intelligence: 0 Wisdom: +2 Charisma: +11 Combat Stats: HP: 163 AC: 13 Speed: 30 Initiative: +2 Proficiency Bonus: +6 Passive Perception: 18 Dark Vision: 0 feet Proficiencies and Expertise:    Animal Handling (+14)    History (+6)    Perception (+8)    Performance (+17)    Persuasion (+17)    Religion (+12)

Spell Slots

1st (6) 2nd (3) 3rd (3) 4th (3) 5th (3) 6th (1) 7th (1) 8th (1) 9th (1)

Fairytale Spellbook

C Dancing Lights, Eldritch Blast, Friends, Light, Mage Hand, Mending 1 Armor of Agathys, Charm Person, Command, Faerie Fire, Healing Word, Sleep, Unseen Servant 2 Animal Messenger, Enlarge/Reduce, Enthrall, Healing Spirit, Misty Step, Suggestion 3 Conjure Animals, Mass Healing Word, Spirit Guardians, Tiny Servant 4 Charm Monster, Conjure Woodland Beings 5 Animate Objects, Dream 6 Mass Suggestion, Wall of Thorns 7 Mord’s Magnificent Mansion 8 Glibness 9 True Polymorph, Wish

Actions:

Countercharm. Creatures within 30 feet get advantage against being charmed or frightened following a performance check.

Bonus Actions:

Bardic Inspiration. Add 1d12 to an ally’s d20 roll 5 times per long rest.

Features:

Eldritch Invocations.    Agonizing Blast. Add your Charisma mod to your Eldritch Blast damage rolls.    Beast Speech. Cast Speak with Animals without using a spell slot. Enthralling Performance. Up to 5 creatures must make a DC 19 WIS saving throw or become charmed by you. Fey Presence. Creatures within 10 feet make a DC 19 WIS saving throw or become charmed or frightened by you until the end of your next turn. Font of Inspiration. Regain all uses of Bardic Inspiration on a rest. Jack of All Trades. Add +3 to skill checks you’re not proficient in. Magic Initiate. Choose two cantrips and a 1st level spell from the cleric spell list. Mantle of Inspiration. As a bonus action, give up to 5 creatures within 60 feet 14 temp HP points, and they can move without provoking an opportunity attack. Position of Privilege. You are welcome in high society, common folk go out of their way to accommodate you, and you can get an audience with other nobles. Song of Rest. Regain 1d12 extra HP on a short rest after singing. Unbreakable Majesty. Take on a majestic appearance for 1 minute, the first creature to target you each turn must succeed on a DC 19 Charisma saving throw or choose another target. If it succeeds, it has disadvantage on saving throws against your spell DC next turn. Use once per long rest.

Fairytale-Based Items

Pumpkin Carriage (Cinderella)

Common Wondrous Item - Vehicle

Weight: 600

This vehicle ignores difficult terrain.

Glass Slippers (Cinderella)

Rare Wondrous Item - Attunement Required

Your movement speed isn’t slowed by difficult terrain, and spells and other magical effects can’t reduce your speed. However, you cannot cross terrain that would harm you, such as lava. Because the shoes fit only one person in the entire kingdom, this item requires attunement.

Golden Stair (Rapunzel)

Rare Wondrous Item - Attunement Required

Your long hair can be used as a Rope, Hempen and a Grappling Hook. It’s attached to your head, so it cannot be broken, stolen, lost, or used up. The hair can also be used like a lasso to bind and pull switches or objects weighing 10 lbs or less closer. It has a range of 60 feet. Because it is attached to your body, this item requires attunement.

Sleeping Spindle (Sleeping Beauty)

Rare Weapon (Dagger)

This cursed spindle deals 1d4 piercing damage. When a creature is struck by this blade, they must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or fall into a magical sleep for 24 hours. The curse can be broken by the spell Remove Curse. Once the curse has been used, it cannot be used again until the dawn of the next day.

Poison Apple (Snow White)

Common Weapon (light, thrown)

When this item is thrown, deal 1d4 bludgeoning damage to any creature it hits. When this item hits a creature or a solid surface, it explodes, creating a poisonous cloud within 5 feet centered on where it landed. Creatures inside the area of the cloud take 1d4 poison damage and make a Constitution saving throw against DC 10 + your INT mod or become poisoned. Crafting: requires fresh fruit, a poisoner’s kit, and knowing at least one spell. Crafting takes 10 minutes.

Ring of Teleportation (Beauty and the Beast)

Epic Ring - Attunement Required

Choose up to three locations you have been to before and know well. Once per day, turn the ring three times and you and any creature touching you will be teleported to whichever location you desired. You can change your three saved locations at any time, but you must be at the location to save it to the ring. The ring resets at dawn following its last use. Because the ring can only take you to places you’ve been before, the ring needs to be attuned to you.

Magic Mirror (Beauty and the Beast/Snow White)

Legendary Wondrous Item

Once per day, choose one of the following:

Cast Scrying without using a spell slot. The mirror will show you what you ask to see.

Cast Legend Lore without using a spell slot. Ask the mirror a question and it will answer truthfully to the best of its ability.

[mysticsparklewings]

One Birthday

---------- Happy Birthday to me! 🎂🎉

As a little thank you all for the birthday wishes—I missed doing a birthday drawing last year, so I was determined to make up for it this time! ✨ 

⭐️ And this year, I managed a time lapse of the art, too! ⭐️

TL;DR: The cake is based on my favorite combo (red velvet & chocolate buttercream), & Alice’s dress comes from a Polly Pocket set released many years ago; One I was sad to realize I never had as a kid, since Alice in Wonderland (1951) is my favorite Disney movie. 😆

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

----------

I was absolutely determined to get a birthday drawing done this year since I missed out last year (partly because I was working on Drawn like a Magnet, partly extraneous reasons I talked about in the 2021 Art Summary) but I had already grown attached to the tradition only two years in. Unfortunately for me, I didn't have any super strong ideas and looking through potential Shopkin or Num Nom designs to draw (as I did in 2019 and 2020) didn't give me any, so I really came down to the wire on time in making this one. 😅 I was up until roughly 5:30 this morning polishing off details. Likewise, this definitely looks different from what you'd call my "normal style" even though that still varies pretty wildly with me. Since it took me until about like midnight last night to even think of an idea I genuinely wanted to run with, I had to make some quick style decisions if I still wanted the art to be relatively quick and easy, and not take until very late at night today to post it. So I opted for a more fluid sketch-inspired style with a sepia tone for a little extra ambiance--Something I likely wouldn't even have considered and might not've been possible (at least not as a "quick and easy" option) if it weren't for Procreate. Yes, I can't stop singing Procreate's praises lately. I can't help it. 😆 It definitely does have a few flaws/things I think are missing, but the everything else is so nice and easy to use! Anyway. The style more or less dropped into my head after I finally figured out my subject. I knew from the very beginning I wanted to do as I have in years' past where I get a cake involved so I can show off my personal favorite flavor combination of red velvet cake and chocolate [buttercream] frosting—which yes, I will be having IRL later 😉—but when I eventually stumbled upon the thought of drawing the iconic Unbirthday Cake from the 1951 Alice in Wonderland, (As was arguably inevitable since it is my favorite Disney movie)...it felt kinda wrong to do just the cake. Already, it's the unbirthday cake...Just changing the colors didn't feel like enough to "separate" it from that idea. And so my brain wandered over to an idea I've been keeping "on the shelf." Who remembers Polly Pocket? More specifically, the early 2000s version with rubber clothes? Well, I was pretty fond of those as a kid and had several Disney Princess sets. I was reminded of this and ended up browsing around on Google for information about the Cinderella set I owned (as it turns out, it was an earlier iteration that, while officially licensed, wasn't quite as nice quality as most of the later Disney Polly-Pockets that got released) via a conversation over in the Sparklers' Club, and while I was scrolling I discovered there was an Alice in Wonderland set that escaped my grasp. Albeit, it would appear after some more research this set was only ever sold at the Disney Parks. [I haven't as of yet been able to find a confirmed date though, so timing might play a role, too.] Aside from very obviously catching my attention because of the AiW nut I am, I also found this set curious (ha) because of the extra dresses included. The Queen of Hearts dress makes sense in a way, but the other three are totally new-to-Alice as far as I'm aware, and I'd love to know why those specific dresses were chosen. The purple one appears to be a nightgown (especially given it's the only dress without a pair of matching shoes) and the pink one reminds me a little of Cinderella's pink dress before her step-sisters rip it to shreds, or maybe Ariel's pink dress but less so. Beyond those basic observations, it's difficult to place rhyme or reason to the new clothes. Suffice to say, I found this fascinating and made a mental note in my head that it might be fun and interesting to draw Alice in these dresses sometime. Technically, that time is now for the aqua dress, but I'm still keeping that idea pinned in the back of my mind because I'd still like to draw the other dresses..And maybe draw this one again in a more "normal" style for me instead of this quickly-done one. But yes, the aqua dress was the one additional thing I was looking for to feel like I'd at least sort-of separate the "un" from this birthday drawing. 😆 I don't know if this will make sense to anyone else, but in my mind it works because the cake colors have been "shifted" in a way; The pink darkened to red, the white darkened a bit to a pale brown. In a similar way, Alice's dress is similar to the one we know, but not quite. It's sort of how a lot of things in Wonderland are "shifted" from what we know in the real world. You could also argue it makes sense that Alice would have a special dress for her actual birthday (as little girls not uncommonly do) and perhaps that was part of the intention behind this and the pink dress--Their colors do match the unbirthday cake, after all. 😜 I did toy with the idea of shifting the other colors on the cake for a bit, but after playing with the Hue slider, I decided they still looked best in the original palette, just with the saturation and brightness turned up a little. And I think that's fitting since Alice's hair and skin and so on are all the same, it's just her clothes that've changed. (Except for the cake plate, I did think it looked better as a pale pink than the normal pale blue, but that's a pretty small thing.) To that end, once I actually had a decent idea of where I was going with this thing, it was actually fairly quickly to sketch up. I spent more time just trying to piece together an idea and looking for the right reference images than anything else. And then of course, once I had the sketch this particular style moved arguably even quicker since I didn't have to spend quite as long as I normally might have futzing with the lines to get them smooth and clean and straight. This time around my focus was more so on just making sure the looseness of the lines felt at least somewhat consistent throughout since it is so different from how I'd normally handle them. Coloring was the easy part, since I didn't have to be precise or even worry about shading that much. And that was completely intentional--I didn't want to spend ages agonizing over the colors and shadows, trying to get every last pixel properly covered, etc. When the meat of the drawing was done (and I half-forgot to show her sleeves are glittery as they are on the real Polly Pocket version--fortunately I remembered before I finished!) I simply had to add something to that background to make it a bit more lively. Technically, in the movie, we don't get bright lights and colors sparking from the candle until after Alice blows it out, so I suppose here we'll have to pretend it's confetti instead, but that is naturally where I got the idea and I like how the colors ended up popped on the brownish background. 💥 And as one final touch, I decided to quote the very beginning of the Unbirthday Song along the top. At the beginning, the Mad Hatter and March Hare are explaining to Alice as follows: Mad Hatter: Now, statistics prove, prove that you've one birthday March Hare: Imagine, just one birthday every year Mad Hatter: Ah, but there are three hundred and sixty-four unbirthdays! March Hare: Precisely why we're gathered here to cheer Granted, I didn't really have room to write out "birthday" and had to shorten it to "day" (and even then I still had less space than I initially thought 😅) but hopefully, the idea is clear enough anyhow. Once again, I feel like this needs to serve as a reminder for me that not every art piece has to be some big complicated thing. Sometimes simple is better! And I'm really pleased with how the whole thing turned out considering it is so much simpler than what I'm used to and I had to pull it together a lot faster than I really wanted. 🥰 So I'll leave you all now with this for today--I'm off to celebrate, myself. 😉 Thank you again to anyone that's sent me well wishes; it really means a lot and I can't put into words just how much I appreciate it! You all add a little extra sparkle to my day, whether it's my birthday or not. 💖

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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[thatsthat24]

New Inktober for 2019!

Once again, I was asked to create a new list of art prompts for October this year! These creations from you guys are ALWAYS so amazing, so I’m excited to bring you a new list! I got so many suggestions from my friends! You can use #TSinktober if you’d like to share your creations!

Remember: Even if we’re on Day 31, and you wanna post art based off the Day 1 prompt, you DEFINITELY can! There is no lateness for posting art, because it’s all entirely for fun! Hope you enjoy!!

Day 1: In a twist from the past years’ Day 1 prompts, I want to see you take a traditional Halloween monster or character, and draw what they look like Sep. 30th, and then their traditional look when it’s October 1st!  Maybe they don’t get spoopy until October 1st haha.

Day 2: Turn fall weather into a character! Could be the human embodiment of Fall, or the spirit responsible for Fall occurring, or something else!

Day 3: Turn a famous painting into a spoopy Halloween version!

Day 4: Draw a classic still life of items belonging to your favorite character. Let us guess who the items belong to!

Day 5: Draw your best friend or yourself (or both) GOIN GHOST. Ya know, that good ole Danny Phantom transformation!

Day 6: A Pokémon hanging out with (or running from) the zombified version of itself

Day 7: Choose two months, personify them, then draw what their first date would look like

Day 8: Sanders Sides characters on their dream vacations!

Day 9: A business that a Halloween monster or character would thrive on if they ran it!

Day 10: Take any popular author, imagine if they were a superhero, and draw what their comic book cover would look like!

Day 11: Portray any Disney princess as the “monster/scary thing” from a horror movie such as The Conjuring, The Nun, etc., either depicting them in a scene from the movie or the poster for the movie!

Day 12: Take any two coffee flavors, like Pumpkin Spice and Peppermint, and draw a battle between them, Mortal Kombat style (brew-tality lol)

Day 13: Take any Avenger from the MCU, and reimagine them as a Pokemon Gym Master! What would their Pokemon team look like?

Day 14: Reimagine a Sanders Sides, Cartoon Therapy, or other original character from our content as a kind of humanoid piece of candy or sweet treat!

Day 15: I really enjoyed this prompt from last year, so this year, take any Disney Villain, and use them as the inspiration for a Met Gala outfit! NO DALMATIAN PUPPY FUR ALLOWED, ALL OF YOU CRUELLA FANS.

Day 16: Take any traditional Halloween monster/character or any horror movie villain and make… them… CUTE. Now whether that’s adorably cuddly cute or va-va-voom cute is completely up to you! - Erin

Day 17: Take your fave character or OC and reimagine Steampunk versions of them!

Day 18: Take your fave food and create a cartoon character based off of it! It can have its own style, be stylized after an existing cartoon, whatever you wish!

Day 19: Take a quote from a book, song, or movie that particularly inspired you, and make it the main centerpiece of this day’s piece of art! Wherever you’d want to take the art from there is up to you!

Day 20: Here’s a cool challenge for ya! You can draw any Halloween-themed picture you want, BUT It’s all in ONE pen stroke. You can’t take your drawing utensil off the paper!

Day 21: What if anyone else from Halloweentown, other than Jack Skellington, had discovered and fell in love with Christmastown? Would anyone else have tried to dress up as Santa? Would they hatch another plan entirely??

Day 22: Back due to demand, take your fave character(s) from two different animated tv shows/anime/movie and depict them in each other’s animation style! An animation swap, if you will!

Day 23: Ever watch a movie or show and wish it had ended a different way? This is your chance to correct the plots to conclude the way YOU wanted it concluded! Oh boy, this may end up getting controversial lol

Day 24: We all know traditional Halloween monsters... but create what you think the Halloween monsters of today or the FUTURE would be!!

Day 25: This one is purely selfish because I’m still so in love with the past creations. Take ANY character of your choice from ANY piece of media and draw them in the style of a Tim Burton illustration!

Day 26: Speaking of classics, gotta include this one cause it’s tradition! Draw your OTP in Halloween costumes that are designed to go together!!

Day 27: Take any dramatic scene from any scary or Halloween-y movie... and meme it.

Day 28: How to Train Your [Insert Monster/Demon/Halloween-y creature here]

Day 29: This one is SUPER open-ended, but I’m into that. Take any book, turn to the 13th page (so the book has to be at least 13 pages lol) and go to the 13th word on that page (if it’s an article like “a” or “the”, just go to the next adjacent noun/verb/adjective/adverb) and use it as the inspiration for a one-worded scary movie/book. Draw that poster or book cover!

Day 30: Slightly inspired by the eerie vibe one can sometimes get from Spinel (SU), Betty Boop cartoons, etc. take any character, Halloween-y creature or otherwise from any of your fave piece of media, and depict them in the classic rubberhose/ Max Fleischer-inspired art style!!

Day 31: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Do you remember a specific Halloween that was especially memorable for you?? It might have been because of the friends you spent it with, or a memorable moment that happened, or because of a costume you were particularly fond of. Or maybe there were a series of Halloweens that were dear to you because of a tradition you did with your family (and maybe still do!). Depict that moment along with an explanation! If you just wanna write about it, that’s fine too!

As always, you guys have been absolutely blowing me away with your incredible creations!! I love this time of year and seeing what your talents produce!! Thank you for all the amazing works and have a WONDERFUL October!!!

Thank you to all my friends whose suggestions helped to make this list!

Dahlia, AJ, Tammy, Ellen, Adri, Fariha, Brei, Rafaela, Jack, Esteban

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex behaviour with children like the way he comforts them or help them through?

heart of gold

hey there! i’m not gonna lie when i say that this prompt took me forever to figure out, but when i did i was super excited! 

this is mainly Alex centric with a bit of jolex added in (obviously). i hope you like it!

___

Of all people to notice Alex Karev’s strange ability to work well with children first, no one would’ve expected it to be Cristina Yang. 

It was fairly early in their intern year, and both she and Karev were on the pediatrics rotation with Dr. Keith, someone who they could both agree was an arrogant son of a bitch that thought way too highly of himself for his own good. 

They’d been trailing behind him like lost puppies all day, listening to him go on and on while he talked to the patient’s families, not even bothering to ask his interns any questions. He always thought that interns were a waste of time and space. He’s much rather have at least a third year resident on his service, but no such luck. They felt like crap and both wanted to kick the guy in the ass, but knew that the only thing that would do is get them knocked out of the program. 

Six hours into their shift, the two were about to head to the cafeteria for a much desired lunch break when their pagers rang out, loud groans escaping their mouths at the noise they had come to detest the last couple of weeks. 

All Alex really wanted was a slice of the hospital’s pizza. Granted, the crust tasted like cardboard, the cheese was old, and the sauce had no flavor, but he was craving it like crazy. He hadn’t gone out for groceries recently, so the only thing that was stocked in the shelves of his small apartment was cereal, some oatmeal, and off brand, nearly expired crackers that he had since he finished med school a couple of months ago. He had --for some unknown reason-- shoved them into a backpack that had made it with him as he traveled from Iowa to Washington, completely untouched. 

With a huff he turns on his heel and makes his way to the pit where he was being paged, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the nurse he disrespected on his first day, along with the ones he’d slept with and hadn’t called back. He had a pretty large list of nurses who didn’t like him, and he didn’t feel like making that list any longer. Not today, at least. 

Keith instructed him to go cast an arm for the seven year old in bed six, while Yang was told to go stitch up the cut on the little girl in bed two. 

When Alex was done he passed by Yang’s area, watching as she was trying to calm down the little girl who couldn’t be more than five. The girl had tears streaming down her face and was nuzzled into the mom’s chest. The mother was glaring at the female doctor, who was saying something Alex could make out as “it’s not even scary, it’s just a needle.” 

All he really wanted to do was get that damn pizza slice, and he had every intention of doing so, but seeing Yang be absolutely hopeless at getting anywhere with the little girl, he felt a bit of sympathy-- not for his fellow intern, but for the kid. 

With a sigh he strides over to the bed, watching as the raven head’s mouth opens to speak, cutting her off immediately. “Let me handle this.” he says, reaching to grab the needle from her head. 

Cristina glares at him, her expression turning into one of disgust. No way was she going to let Evil Spawn steal her patient, no matter how much she wished she’d be doing anything else. 

“Karev-”

“--Yang!” he cuts her off sharply, plucking the needle from her hand and bumping her out of the way. Not the nicest thing to do, but she was practically terrifying the little girl. There was no way she would trust the doctor now. 

His coworker scoffs, huffing a ‘fine’ before she goes to stand back and watch the scene, more than eager to watch the man fail. What good could he do? The girl was crying the second she had taken the disinfectant out. 

Alex pulls up a chair, grabbing the attention of the little girl, who looks up from her mother’s chest for a second, only to dive back in right after. 

“Hey kid, my name’s Doctor Karev. You mind telling me your’s?” he asks gently, slipping on a pair of gloves and flashing a signature crooked grin. 

The girl makes eye contact warily, slightly unlatching from her mom's tight hold at the sight of the man’s smile. The other doctor looked super serious, it was kind of scary. 

“Piper.” she answers, wiping the tears from under her eyes, the mom flashing him a grateful smile. 

“Hey Piper.” he grins. “I see you got hurt up there. What happened?” he wettens the pad with disinfectant, keeping his eyes on the little blonde, knowing it would mean less questions if she was focused on his face. 

“I was jumping on the couch and then I fell and hit the table.” she explains, Alex inspecting the cut to see if her story was reliable. He knew firsthand what it was like to come up with excuses for the bruises on your face, and wanted to make sure that she wasn’t just trying to cover up for something else that happened. 

Luckily, the combination of the authenticity of the bruise and the level of trust the daughter had in her mom let him know that she really did do what she said. He knew at some point he was gonna need to not assume the worst in every parent that came in with an injured kid, but the wound was still fresh for him, and it would take some time to heal-- a long time.

“Well then Piper, I’m gonna need to clean your cut, but it’s gonna sting a bit. Is that okay?” he asks her, her green eyes widening, but eventually nodding. The doctor seemed nice enough. 

He cleans the wound, turning back at the girl when he pulls out a needle, watching as her face begins to look panicked. “Hey, it’s okay.” he reassures her. His eyes dart around, noticing a backpack that sat in the corner, decorated with a multitude of princesses. 

“Who’s your favorite princess?” he asks her, drawing Piper’s attention away from the scary needle in his hands. 

“Belle.” she answers, a small smile making its way to her face. She loved talking about the princess’s and would chatter on about them anytime, any day, anywhere.  

Alex smirks, letting out a sigh of relief. He knew all about Belle, since it was Amber’s all time favorite Disney movie. He’d seen it more time than he’d like to admit, and practically had the whole film memorized since he was fourteen.

“I like Belle too. She’s super brave huh? Never afraid of the Beast or anything.” he gives her a smile, watching as Piper’s face lights up, a wide, toothless smile splayed on her lips. 

“Yeah! She’s so cool! She never lets the beast tell her what to do!” she exclaims, making Alex chuckle. She reminded Alex a lot of his little sister, with her dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and passion for princesses. 

“Okay, well, right now I’m gonna need you to be super brave like Belle alright? And sit really really still, like she does when she reads a book. Can you do that for me Piper?” he smirks mischievously. 

The little girl grins. She always wanted to be like her favorite princess, so she definitely wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to act like one. She already practiced around the house, so she was definitely going to practice in front of the nice doctor who looked like Prince Philip.  

Cristina stood frozenly in the background, mouth opened so wide it could catch flies. Who knew Karev was so good with kids? She sure as hell didn’t.  

She watches as he stitches up the cut, saying some reassuring words every time the girl flinches or squeezes her eyes shut. It was about twenty minutes later when he finished, Yang still standing there in shock. She sees him dress the wound, getting up from his chair and say, “All done. You did awesome Piper, but no more jumping on the couch, alright?” which earns him a nod. He flashes a friendly wink to the mom, who blushes as he walks away, forgetting entirely about Yang’s presence as he makes his way to the cafeteria to finally get his hands on the pizza slice he’s been drooling about for hours.

Maybe Evil Spawn wasn’t so evil after all. 

~*~

Miranda Bailey was exhausted. Between Tuck and trying to begin a pediatric fellowship, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep for god knows long. Tucker being difficult about their shared custody schedule seemed to only add to her fatigue and she swore on her life that she could crash on the nearest gurney and not wake up for three days straight. 

It was with a heavy sigh she begrudgingly made her way back down to the NICU, remembering that she had left Karev there the day before after administering the kangaroo hold. She knew that by now he had probably dispersed, but she felt like checking on the little baby herself, just to make sure that the preemie was doing okay.

When she arrived at the NICU doors she could see a few faces that she recognized standing outside the window, talking in hushed conversations as they stared at the scene in front of them with imploring eyes, that is, until the one she knew as Reed rushed away-- a friend at her side, finishing their conversation quickly. 

Miranda shakes her head. Though she had softened over the years, everyone still feared the inner ‘Nazi’ that came out from time to time. When she finishes gowning herself she makes her way into the room, stopping in front of the shirtless, sleeping figure on a chair. Surprised was the only word she was able to come up with, though it seemed like an understatement of the century. Alex Karev was sitting there, with a sleeping baby curled contently against his chest, her tiny breaths in sync with the man who was holding her. 

She shakes her head, stopping a few feet from where the man sat. “Karev?” she says, making him open his groggy eyes, blinking as he does so to look around for the source of the noise, relaxing when he knows that no monitors are going off and the baby on his chest is still very much alive. 

“Did you stay here all night?” she asks softly, watching as he looks out the window to see that it was in fact daytime, not evening like it was before he’d fallen asleep.

He takes another look at the baby in his arms, “Um, yeah. I… I guess I did.” he trails off, his voice rough since he barely was awake.  

“Go home, get some rest. The nurse will take over for you.” Miranda scolds. These interns (who were now residents) were like her children, her babies, and as much as the sight warmed her heart, she needed her babies to be well rested. She couldn’t have them falling asleep in the middle of surgery. 

He unintentionally pulls the tiny bundle of pink a bit closer, “No. Uh, I- I’m okay. I’m… good here.” 

She lets out a small, barely there laugh, but not at him. She’d seen the soft side of Alex Karev, but it was few and far between. Everyone knew that the rough exterior he put up was just to stop himself from getting hurt, but this… this side was new. She had never seen him more vulnerable than he was right now, the baby sleeping so soundly on his chest that it seemed like no amount of noise could disturb her. 

“Well, you'd be good in Peds, you know that?” she flicks her gaze from him to the baby. “You get invested. You have good instincts. You stick to your instincts,” she continues, Alex looking down at the child, making some kind of face she wouldn’t know how to describe. 

“You’d be good in Peds, Karev.” she walks away, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts. 

Maybe, just maybe, kids would be the one thing that would allow Karev to show everyone who he really was. 

~*~         

Alex Karev had sort of snuck up on Arizona Robbins. When he said that he was interested in Peds, she truly thought that he was joking, just trying to say something to either get a laugh out of her or annoy her. 

She didn’t know much about Karev, all she really knew was what she had heard from the nurses gossiping loudly at their stations, and the occasional input from Callie here and there. All she really knew was that he had been married to Stevens, who had cancer, then they later got divorced, and before he was married he had earned himself quite a bit of a ‘man-whore’ reputation, nearly as bad as Mark’s. 

Arizona was weary about Karev, so imagine her surprise when she saw his face light up as a kid called him Doctor Alex for the first time. 

The first time she’d ever had the young man on her service she knew that he was cold, arrogant, and a bit too cocky for his own good. He was overall an asshole, and to say Robbins wasn’t happy to have him on her service was an understatement. Bailey had said something to her recently about Karev, but that didn’t lessen her lack of enjoyment about his upcoming arrival on her floor. 

When the man did arrive, he was seven minutes late for rounds, dumping an empty cup of hospital bought coffee in the nearest trash can. He flashed her a crooked grin, apologizing for his tardiness, but not explaining why.

Arizona sighed, rolling her eyes discreetly. She wasn’t normally a strict teacher, but one thing she didn’t like was when her residents were late. The lives of tiny humans were in their hands, no second could be wasted-- much less seven minutes.

“Welcome to peds Doctor Karev…” She starts off, telling him about how pediatrics wasn’t wiping kid’s noses and cuddly bunnies all day long. Peds was hardcore, only for the elite. 

She stops outside room 414, turning back to Karev and giving him as stern of a glare as she could muster. “Remember Karev, smile, engage. These are kids we’re talking about here.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. He knew he wasn’t the nicest guy. He was an ass, a douche, and definitely not the man most women would be proud to take home to their parents. But if there was one thing he did know, it was kids. He practically raised one for god’s sake.  

“Got it Robbins.” he huffs, fixing his posture as the two walk into the room, where a little boy sat on his bed, playing with his colorful toys that sat on his lap, anxious parents sitting in chairs beside him. 

Arizona flashes a grin to the family, directing her attention back to the boy. “Hi Nico, how are we doing today?” 

Nico shrugs, mustering a half-hearted smile. “I’m okay.” he answers, more focused on his toys than the doctors in the room.

“Well that’s good,” she jots something down on her chart. “This is Dr. Alex. He’s gonna be another one of your doctors, okay Nico?” 

“Doctor Alex?” the boy confirms, making Arizona look up from her chart and Alex look back at the boy. 

She saw it then. The way his eyes lit up at the name, how a crooked grin unconsciously made its way to his lips. He had it. The peds glow. 

“Hey dude.” Alex smirks, trying to hide is bubbling excitement. He liked that name, ‘Doctor Alex’. It was different from Karev. It was lighter, easier, it sounded right. Doctor Karev was too… but Doctor Alex? Doctor Alex sounded pretty great. 

Arizona bites her lip as she watches her resident and the patient interact, trying to keep her smile at bay. 

There it is. There’s the real Alex Karev. 

~*~ 

Jo Wilson sat in the intern’s locker room, knotting up the ties of her scrub pants as she listened to the chief resident rattle of names of who the intern’s were with that day. She was more than thankful for a new service, since Medusa was downright terrifying, but she was really hoping that she wouldn’t be assigned to-

“--Wilson you’re with Doctor Karev on Peds.”

Shit. 

She was sure Karev was a great doctor, I mean, he wouldn’t be here-- at one of the best hospitals in the world-- if he sucked. 

But she’d already heard enough about Karev to say that she didn’t like him, not one bit. So far she’d witnessed Leah crying into her locker about why he wouldn’t answer her calls, nurses complain to each other about why he hadn’t texted, and other interns chattering at bars about why he acted like he didn’t know them when they saw each other again.

In conclusion, he was a grade-A jackass who slept with any female that had two legs, and she was certainly not going to be the next one on his (extensive) list of conquests. No sir-ee. 

With a huff she ties her hair back, giving Stephanie a deadpan look after she whispers a “Good luck. Make sure not to sleep with him.” 

There was no way she would be sleeping with Karev, not in a million years. She had heard so much from others that she could already paint a picture-

Ew, no. That’s gross. 

Either way, there was nothing he could ever say to make her fall in bed with him. Nothing at all. 

…

She was exhausted. Karev was an ass. An ass who didn’t hate her, but was still an insufferable asshole. Jo stood at the nurses station, leaning over the counter as she filled out her charts, scribbling down her notes angrily. He made her angry. 

Though she had to admit, seeing him all freaked out over her (fake) crying was pretty hilarious. 

“--Wilson!” she hears her name being called by her asshole of a superior. She turns around, plastering such a faux smile on her face that she felt nauseated just knowing that it was there. 

She’s about to respond when Doctor Grey comes running up to him, shoving a toddler in his arms, taking him by surprise. 

“Alex. I need you to watch her.” the blonde pleads, making him scrunch his eyebrows. 

“Mer I-” 

“Please.” Meredith begs, Alex giving her a crooked grin as he takes ahold of his niece. If there was one thing that could make Alex Karev smile without even trying, it was Zola Grey Shepherd, a two and a half year old little fireball.  

A large grin comes across the little girl’s face as she looks at the man in front of her. “Unca Lex!” she exclaims, clasping her tiny hand on the side of his face. 

“Hi Ms. Zozo,” he smiles, Jo not even noticing how the corner’s of her mouth quirked up at the sight. This was not the Doctor Karev she’d been with these past few hours, this was someone completely new. This was… Alex? 

Meredith sighs. “I have on OB appointment, and normally we’d take her, but she’s just been so fussy lately, and when I tried to take her to daycare she threw a fit-”

Alex cuts her off, “Mer, it's fine. I got her.” he reassures her, pretending to bite the little girl’s finger as it came close to his face, causing her to let out a loud squeal. 

“Okay but-”

He rolls his eyes at the blonde, “Mer, go. She’ll be completely fine.” he smirks. “We all know that she likes me better than you and Shep combined so…” 

Meredith hits him on the shoulder before she turns and waddles down the hall, leaving Alex with a toddler in his arms that was giggling as he tickled her, and an intern who wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing in front of her. 

It was obvious that he had some skills with children, he was a pediatric surgeon for crying out loud. But nobody told her he was this good with kids.She watched as a large smile came across his face, a laugh escaping his mouth at Zola’s squeals and giggles. 

Maybe Alex Karev wasn’t as much of an asshole that she thought he was. 

~*~ 

Nothing was more perfect to him than the sight in front of him. 

Never in a million years did he ever think that he would get to where he was now. 

Alex sat next to his wife as they stared down at the little baby on her chest, her pink cheeks puffed up while her eyes were tightly squeezed closed as she tried to sleep. She was so perfect. So, so perfect.  

A daughter. 

He had a daughter. 

A little bundle of pink that weighed a whole six pounds, seven ounces. Yet somehow, she had managed to take his heart out of his chest and hold it in her tiny, tiny palm. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for how much he already loved his little girl. He’d heard about it, read about it. He’d been in the room when parents met their child for the first time. But this? This was a whole new level of love, something he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 

He watched as Jo ran her thumb delicately over the baby girl’s cheeks, tears streaming down Jo’s face. It had been all of two minutes since they welcomed their daughter into the world and she hadn’t stopped crying since. 

Although he wasn’t crying, his throat was built up as he stared at his perfect little girl. A full head of wavy light brown hair sat on top of her head, her rosy lips pouted as she nestled closer to her mother’s chest. 

Perfect. 

That’s the only word that could describe the tiny figure that laid before him.

He rubs his pinky finger over her little fist, watching as it unfolds and grabs it with all of her strength. 

He can feel his heart physically clench, never before had something felt as right as feeling his little girl’s palm around his finger. 

Alex grins, placing a small kiss on the top of Jo’s head, a silent way of saying so many different things at once. 

Thank you. 

You did so well. 

You’re so strong. 

She’s so perfect. 

I love you.

Thank you for marrying me.

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you for everything.  

Thank you.

Jo readjusts the baby on her chest, bringing her up higher for them to see. 

She lets out a watery smile, her bottom lips trembling as she stares at the tiny girl that she would do anything for. “Hi sweet girl.” she whispers, not even bothering to wipe the water droplets that cascaded down her cheeks. 

Alex lets out a crooked grin, a small laugh escaping his throat in disbelief. This perfect creation was his daughter. How was that even possible?  

“Welcome to the world Lorelei Karev.” he whispers, unable to focus on anything except the tiny girl that he would give up the sun, the moon, and the stars for. 

“We love you so much.” Jo speaks softly, looking up at her husband, the love of her life, her eyes saying more than her mouth ever could. 

Thank you. 

I love you. 

She’s so perfect. 

Thank you for her. 

Thank you for everything. 

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you.  

They share a small kiss, reveling in the moment they knew they would remember for the rest of their lives. 

It was then he defied all odds. Overcame all of his fears. He wasn’t going to be like his dad, what everyone told him he was going to be. He was going to be an amazing dad, and he knew it.

As it turns out, kids truly were the one thing that could show everyone who the real Alex Karev was after all.

[spoopy-sloth]

For the ask game— 16, 18, and 20!

16. thoughts on mint chocolate chip?

I think it's alright! I don't always order it, but when I do, it is very refreshing. The cafe I used to work at served a winter coffee blend that was made of a mint chocolate chip base and included peppermint and mocha to accent the flavor.

18. your boba/tea order?

I usually order Taro with tapioca, but lately, I've been crushing hard on rose boba tea!!!! Rose milk, my love 🌹🥛

20. favorite disney princess movie?

You know, Sleeping Beauty was my favorite as a kid because of the background art, and I was a huge medieval nerd as a kid. Today tho, I think it's Princess and the Frog. I identify hard with the hard work, both the toxic aspect part of overworking and the reward of hard work in itself. Tiana kicks ass, and Dr. Facilier is soooooooooooooo underappreciated I will fight anyone.

[ciggylungz]

Butterflies and Bandaids pt.7- Anniversary

Butterflies and bandaids chapter.7 -

Anniversary

word count. 5.3k (lord)

warnings: smut (finally)

Y/n feels like she’s been on cloud nine the last new weeks, and she woke up with a surge of happiness yet again today because it marked her and Harry’s one month anniversary. She was ecstatic, she knew he had planned a special little evening for them since they were lucky enough that their anniversary landed on a Friday, and even more lucky Anne was going out of town this weekend so they had his house to themselves without the threat of toddlers or parents intruding on their night. Y/n was also extremely excited because she’s been having some rather intimate dreams about her boyfriend for the past few days, and she thought this night would be a good night to try and bring those dreams to reality.

Harry on the other hand, felt a bit nervous about his date he set up for them in honor of the day, he wanted everything to be perfect because she deserves the best. He refused to settle for any less for his angel. He felt confident enough about his schedule for the evening, he decided he’d take her to their favorite little diner, snag some booze Gemma had agreed to buy him and walk to the treehouse his dad had built him when he was little in the woodsy part of his backyard. Her and Harry still hung out in there from time to time, when some alone time was needed and he definitely liked that her siblings didn’t know about it and his mother never checked it since he told her it’s full of spiders (it isn’t, he always cleans it so Y/n doesn’t panic over bugs that may be looming inside the wooden structure, but he needed an excuse for his mum to never check up there) .

He brought up the battery powered Christmas lights and strung them along the trim on the ceiling and made sure to clean up any leaves and rouge spider webs from the corners, sweeping the throw rug that decorates the floor and tidying the small couch and few beanbags that sat in there. He wanted it to be perfect, romantic, cozy and exactly how his girl likes it to be. He even brought in her favorite blankets he has and a few extra pillows, stashing the bottle of vodka behind the sofa and putting the presents he got her on the cushion making sure it all looked good.

He knew it was silly to be so nervous, but he always wanted to make Y/n feel special. She’s the girl he loves, and he loves the way her eyes light up when he does something she finds endearing, the way she cuddles into him when he brings his laptop up there with an extra long extension cord so he can keep it charged from the outdoor plugs while they watch movies and random YouTube videos together. He certainly doesn’t mind the make out sessions she awards him with when he makes her really happy, and he never fails to melt when she giggles at his corny jokes while they lay together up in their tree house, in their own little world.

Harry had set everything up perfectly, even grabbing a door stopper and extra lock incase they decided to spend the night out there so he could feel 100% confident that no rouge tree dwelling burglar could get in and take away his princess. He knows it’s rather dramatic, but he doesn’t want any chance of anything bad happening to her.

He gave the space a good once over, making sure the rather spacious treehouse was up to his standards, making sure the little glass windows were sealed, and the curtains were drawn, the door was maintained enough to not be so squeaky and he had enough extension cords to keep the computer, and their phones charged. Once he decided it was perfect he made his way back down the ladder and went to get himself cleaned up and ready.

__

 Y/n was finishing taming her curls and putting on her makeup when a light knock sounded on her bedroom door, a smiling Harry peaking his head in after and giving the girl a coo.

“Hey love, you ready for our date?” he felt like he sounded a bit awkward and cliché the way he said it, like a badly scripted Disney teen movie, but his insecurities washed away when she gave him her biggest smile putting her mascara down and jumping to her feet to hug him. Her little body fit right inside his arms, his nose breathing in the scent of her freshly washed rose smelling curls and her floral perfume that he loved. He’d even made her spray his bed with some of it so he always smells her when he’s going to bed.

“Missed you H, know I saw you yesterday but I still missed you and thought about you all day.” She was beaming as she tipped her head up, chin resting on his sternum as she spoke to him, receiving a happy hum and few smacking kisses to her cherry flavored lips. “You ready doll? Got everything set up for us.”

When she nodded and broke free from his hold to grab her bag he couldn’t help the wide grin on his face, watching her have a little bounce in her step since she was excited grabbing his hand and leading him towards the front door, managing to dodge the babies and prying eyes of her older siblings as they made a mad dash out of the crowded home.

__

 “guess what?” Y/n proposed as she finished chewing her bite of melon she had ordered with her food, she always chose fruit salad as her side yet had a bad habit of snagging a few (most of) Harry’s typical side of fries.

“What’s that darlin’?” Harry had his chin resting on his palm as he played into Y/n’s playful tone, he swears he’s never felt more content then he does sitting in the dingy little family run diner with his girl then he’s ever felt in his life. “I got you a present!” she clapped her hands for a beat before squirming excitedly in her side of the booth, doing a little happy dance as he chuckled at her silly antics. “Yea? I got you one too babe, goin’ ta’ give it to you after dinner.” Y/n gasped lightly and shifted to sit on her knees, “Really?! I’m so excited!”

The older boy laughed before leaning forward to peck her a few times, “ ‘m excited too, can swap gifts. Hope you like yours. After 10 years of friendship I still sometimes draw a blank when figuring out what to get ya’, gotta work on being so picky love.” His tone was teasing and he gave a playful eyeroll which she stuck her tongue out at. “I’ll love it, because it’s from you and I love you.”

Harry swears his heart did a back flip in his chest, he’s heard her say it thousands of times yet every time it still makes him putty in the palm of her hand. He wasn’t ashamed to admit, he was deeply, helplessly in love with her.

The pair never let go of each other’s hands as they made the trek back to Harry’s home, him giving her a slight fond squeeze of her hand when she got giddy realizing he was leading her to their special hang out spot. She always adored that treehouse, they went from playing ‘house’ in it as little kids to now using it as their own little sanctuary where they got to be in their own little world together. Two young people in love, happily in their own little house where nothing could bother them. She think’s it might be her favorite place on earth.

“you go up first, love. Gonna come behind you incase ya’ lose your footing. Bit hard to see, forgot how dark it gets in the fall.” Harry stood at the bottom of the ladder while she quickly climbed up, turning to scoot her bum up over the ledge onto the little deck that wrapped around the structure. Getting herself steady before standing up and leaning against the railing that secured the deck, waiting for Harry to climb up so he could unlock it. “oh my god!” her voice was an octave higher showing her surprise and joy seeing the cozy set up he prepared for her. The lights twinkled as they hung from the ceiling, their writing and carvings illuminated by them showing the scribbles of ‘Y/n and Harry allowed ONLY!’ and little flowers and stick figures they carved into the wooden walls and floors as little kids when Harry got a pocket knife from his boy scouts troop.

“You like it?” Harry scratched the back of his neck bashfully as he took in the joy radiating off her, stumbling a bit as she threw herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his legs as he managed to catch her and hold her up spinning in a circle giggling with her while kissing all over her pinched up cheeks. “I love it! Aw Hazzy I love you so much! You’re the sweetest boy in the whole wide world!” she planted exactly 6 kisses on his lips while he fumbled around closing and locking the door while keeping her held in his arms. “I love you more sweetness, I’m glad you like it. C’mon got presents waiting princess.”

Once Y/n had her feet firmly planted on the ground once more, she tossed herself onto the couch taking the box he had waiting for her into her lap, rummaging through her bag to grab the box she had for him.

“Open yours first H.” Y/n insisted as she thrust the pastel, wrapped box into his lap. She used her special wrapping paper, the nice expensive one with a darling design of clementine’s and cherries on it along with other assorted fruits. The paper was special, Harry even knew the back story about how her grandmother had given her the wrapping when she was young and how it was twenty whole dollars. She had adamantly told him she was saving it for a special occasion and he couldn’t help but coo knowing he was special enough for her most prized decorations. “c’mon! Open it Harry” if Y/n had one flaw, which he doesn’t even consider it a flaw because to him she’s perfect, it’s her impatience.

“alright alright, don’t get ya’ knickers in a twist love.” Harry made sure he was careful when unwrapping it, going along with the tape so he could save the paper later in his little memory box he has with all the special things and memories he has of her, she has one of him too and of course their siblings teased them for being cheesy when they first started collecting items when they were 8 and 10.

When he managed to perfectly strip the box of the paper, he felt butterflies invade his tummy, his own excitement building as he opened the gift. He was met with a soft velvet interior lining the jewelry box. Inside was a second box but littering around it were pictures of the two, the notes they’d passed to each other in class, a pack of bubblegum and a gift card to his favorite clothing store. Harry blew out a breath taking it in, his eyes crinkling in their corners from his wide grin. His dimples sunk deep into his cheeks, and his eyes almost teared up. “This is absolutely adorable..” he pried the second box out of the wooden jewelry box, taking in his girlfriends excited feet tapping on the floor and her giggles as he cracked open the second part of the gift, finding a gold locket in the shape of a heart. He held it up by it’s chain seeing the charm dangle and shimmer in the gentle lights, his heart becoming a puddle in his chest as he saw the date they got together engraved on the front of the heart and her name engraved on the back, opening it to see a tiny picture of the duo both blowing bubbles with their favorite pink bubble gum. As silly as it is, they hold their sweets close to their hearts because if she hadn’t been chewing it the day he met her, she wouldn’t have the nickname he gave her, they wouldn’t have a special treat they only share with each other, and they wouldn’t have a shrunken down picture of them at 10 and 12 years old, blowing bubbles right at the camera with an ‘I love you’ carved on the rim of it. Harry felt his eye’s get misty as he took it in. “I love it honey…this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten thank you bubble gum.” She blushed and batted her eyelashes a bit as she secured the jewelry around his neck, “I love you Harry”, his arms wrapped around her bringing her into his lap as he mumbled how much he loved her and appreciated the gift, kissing her a couple times before allowing her to sit in his lap so she can open her gift.

He watched her pink painted nails undo the ribbon, popping the top of the gift box off squealing excitedly at the pile of treasures he gave her. Her favorite sweater of his, one she wears all the time and never wants to give back, a little notebook with pressed flowers in it, little love notes to her written on the pages around the plants and a jewelry box similar to the one she gave him sitting on top. “Looks like we had the same idea H” she smiled as she held up the chain that had his name on it, while a bit narcissistic she loved that he was a bit possessive over her and how she got to wear her love’s name above her heart, “Great minds think alike huh?”.

The pair continued to gush over their gifts as he used his nimble fingers to fasten the jewelry onto her. her fingers toyed with the necklace as they talked, endless ‘I love you’s’ and ‘i’m never taking this off’ were said over the next few minutes while he prepared the laptop for their viewing.

  “This movie is awful but I can’t look away.” Y/n commented as she watched the horrible lifetime movie, the actors sounded like they were first graders being forced to read in front of their class. “She sounds like she’s in pain” Harry snorted taking a sip of his vodka fruit punch mixed drink he held securely in his palm, he didn’t plan to get drunk but it’s always nice to have a little buzz going.

“I don’t know why I love terrible movies so much, at this point I think I may just enjoy bullying actors.” Y/n smacked his chest lightly and grabbed his cup taking a sip before cringing a bit as she swallowed it, Harry laughing at her pained expression, “Bit strong for you eh? Maybe that’ll teach ya’ not to steal my drinks ma’am” Y/n flipped him off before taking another sip sticking her tongue out before handing it back. “Yea…I’ll stick to wine coolers and sugary booze.” “what did I tell ya’ about being picky?” this only got him an eyeroll before she turned towards him, laying herself down so her heads in his lap letting him toy with her hair while she watched the laptop screen. Both of them simply content with being in each others arms.

“Harry?” “yea love?” “wanna know a secret?” she had a playful little smirk decorating her pretty face and she looked up at him, both of them feeling a tad bit warm and fuzzy feeling a small buzz take over their bodies. “Ooo a secret? Do tell!” Y/n sat up and leaned against the back of the couch her cheek pressed to the leather. “You sure you wanna know? It’s a little naughty” This got the boys ears to perk up and his eyes to meet hers, “Naughty?” “very” Harry took a deep breath while searching her eyes, coming back with a look he’s seen before but never on her, her eyes looked almost sultry with her bottom lip caught slightly between her teeth, “Tell me” he swallowed hard watching her lean forward to whisper in his ear “I’ve been having naughty dreams about you” she leaned back with a playful smile on her face while he licked over his lips. He set his cup down before leaning back into the throw pillows, resting his arm along the back of the couch “Oh yea? Care to elaborate…set the scene for me baby” his eyes flicked from her feet to her eyes, lingering for a tick on the imprint of her perky breasts on her shirt. Y/n giggled quietly walking her fingers on his knee still too shy to make eye contact. “Not sure I should, told ya’ it’s naughty Harry” she blew a raspberry through her plump lips, leaning back over to whisper in his ear cupping her hand around the shell of his ear, even though they were the only people around “I dreamed about going down on you…and f-fucking you” she pulled away with red cheeks and his eyes widened, the butterflies returning to his stomach and his muscles tensing for a second.

“Yea? You dreamed about playing with me doll face?” he got a shy nod and giggle in return, but Harry wanted more than that. “No no, tell me. Say it out loud, tell me what you dreamed about princess” Y/n took a deep breath, letting him pet her cheek a bit “C’mon can tell me, won’t get upset tell me baby” he leaned forward to kiss her gently before pulling away, and Y/n felt a bit of confidence surge through her, “I was watching porn before I went to bed.. and playing with myself…and I had a dream about sucking your…-“ “say it princess, c’mon can say it” “dreamed about sucking your cock” she said the dirty word with a hint of nervousness, her shyness peaking through a bit. Harry couldn’t help the groan that fought it’s way through his throat hearing her say such dirty things. God he loved it. “Really? Played with your pussy before dreaming about putting my cock in that sweet mouth? Yea? What else, go on tell m’ pet.” Y/n chewed on her lip a bit, scooting a bit closer to her boyfriend. “I dreamed about you putting it in me…taking my virginity…and when I woke up I had to…touch myself in the shower”

A smirk tugged at his lips, her words getting his cock to plump up a bit behind it’s denim confines. His tongue darting out to wet his lips yet again, “Is that what you want love? You want me to fuck ya’?” she slowly nodded her head before popping her lips, “I do…but not yet. Tonight I wanted to try…sucking you off and..i wanted to know what it feels like for someone to lick down there.” she was adorable, her shy innocence fighting with her hormone, and it made Harry even more turned on. His fantasies he repressed for so long coming to life, to say he was willing was the largest understatement of the century.

His hands quickly darted out to pull her into his lap, getting a squeak from her out of surprise her giggles showering his ears as she got situated on his thighs. “Ya’ wanna give me a blowie and let me eat your pussy for our anniversary? Fuck doll, I’m down.” His deep chuckle vibrated her ribcage as he pressed her body into his, “I’ve never done it before…you got ta’ teach me how to do it Harry” “would be a pleasure, princess.”

 Soon the pair found themselves with their tongues in each other’s mouths, massaging them together as they tugged on each others clothes. Harry guided Y/n’s hips to grind down on his very prominent bulge, his thumbs pressed into her hip bones as he dragged her back and forth over the tent his groans getting swallowed by her mouth that’s locked on his, her breath hitching every time he nudges her clit on the seam of her jeans, tugging them a bit to define her cunt through the material making sure she’s getting as much friction as he is. “G-god fuck love, cmon I’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep humping like rabbits. Think you’re ready to try giving me head?” he held her chin with his fingers to make her look at him, getting a dreamy “uh huh” in response as she slowly drifted from his lap onto her knees on the floor. Letting Harry take his belt off, sitting back and letting him undo his button and zipper pushing his pants off his hips, letting them rest on his mid-thigh while she comes face to face with his lightly clothed manhood. “C’mon, take me out pet. Don’t gotta be scared, ‘m not gonna hurt ya’.” Harry was trying to keep himself from squirming in his seat while he watched Y/n slowly reach forward to pull the waistband of his boxers down, seeing her flinch slightly as his cock popped out hitting his belly button through his shirt as he sprang free.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of his cock, bare and bobbing with every beat of his heart from how hard he is. He was big, intimidatingly large. She looked at the vein running up the underside of his cock, his pubic hair and his swollen balls. She admired how his foreskin retracted behind the crown of his cock leaving his red leaking tip fully out to see. “Woah…i-it’s bigger than ones I’ve seen” Harry loved the praise, how could he not? His girlfriend gawking at his junk while telling him how big he is, he felt like he’d bust just hearing her talk. “Touch it…wrap your hand around me…ah fuck yea like that…squeeze a little bit there you go. Good fuckin’ girl lovie.”

Y/n smiled a bit at the praise, feeling herself get a little surer of herself as she stroked his cock like he instructed her to, feeling her chest swell with dirty pride as he continued to praise her. “Alright, lick the tip right there, tongue flat there you go” she did as she was told, giving the crown of his cock kitten licks before taking her own initiative and licking from the base of his shaft to the little slit in his tip loving how he moaned for her and tugged her hair a bit. “Don’t tease me baby, put the tip in your mouth and suck like a lollipop.”

Y/n pushed his tip between her lips, sucking on it like a sweet a she taught her feeling his thighs clench as she sucked harder moving to take a bit more into her warm mouth sucking till her cheeks hollowed around him, the flesh of her cheeks massaging his cock like velvet. Warm, wet, velvet.

“feels so fucking good darlin’, got no idea how good you’re doing…tuck your lips under ya’ teeth try not to bite down…just like that, doing so good such a fast learner baby. Good girl y/n, good girl.” His eyes struggled to stay open as she started inching deeper bobbing her head slightly. He felt her constrict a bit as his tip pushed her uvula back, he quickly pulled her head off giving her a chance to breathe,

“Don’t push too hard baby, don’t want ya’ to get sick on me. When you try to take me in your throat keep it open, like if you’re singing or yelling, open that pretty throat up. If ya’ spit up a bit on accident it’s alright. It’s your first-time sweetheart.” He gave her cheek a gentle petting before letting her sink down on him again, taking his advice and keeping her throat relaxed and open while his tip brushed the back of her warm, slick throat. He was a moaning mess as his eyes screwed shut, feeling her salivate so much at the stimulation of her throat it was dripping down his shaft and puddling on his balls.

He was in heaven. He knew he didn’t have much time left when he felt her small hand move to massage her spit on his swollen balls moving back a bit so his cocks not as deep letting her tongue massage the underside of his shaft while suckling his tip. “sh-shit, shit doll I’m gonna cum…fuck atta girl, where do you want it? Your mouth? Fuck baby s-stop sucking yo- oh- fuck!” Harry couldn’t control the bucking of his hips while his balls constricted, pulling towards his body while still in her grasp spilling his cum into her mouth and onto her lips some dribbling onto her chin as she pulled off him.

Harry was dazed for a minute, post orgasmic haze overtaking his mind as he experienced the wave of euphoria. When he finally opened his eyes he saw his girl still on her knees holding his cum in her mouth, looking at him with big doe eyes with some of his seed dripping off her face onto her shirt. He chuckled a bit seeing her, “Can swallow it if you want” she squinted her eyes a bit and he breathed out a bit “Don’t want to? Doesn’t taste nice? Salty innit? Can spit love, here” he held a empty red plastic cup under her chin watching as she spit his rather large load into it, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. “Sorry…but Harry it was really salty…like sea water” she cringed a bit and he laughed. “Yea, I’ll start eating more fruit and staying hydrated so my cum doesn’t taste as bad next time. Sorry baby.”

“it’s okay H…did I do a good job?” she rested her palms on his knees, eagerly awaiting his response a proud grin plastered on his face as he nodded. “Fuck yea, did amazing baby. Made me cum like a gallon, you’re a natural just gotta work on watching the teeth. You did great, you’re a good girl princess. So proud of you, made me feel amazing I promise.” Harry didn’t care about the lingering taste of him on her tongue as he kissed her, tongues battling for dominance ad he pulled her up and laid her down on the sofa. Her back came in contact with the cool leather, her warm body relaxing into the comforting coolness.

“Think it’s your turn angel, want me to eat your pussy love? God, I’m gonna be the first person to get a taste of your pretty peach. Gonna make ya’ feel good yea? If you don’t like something then tell me, got it?” Y/n nodded quickly, letting him rid her of her shirt lifting her back so she could undo the clasps. When her tits finally came into his view, Harry made a pathetic whimpering noise, she’s fucking gorgeous. His hands groped at the buds while his mouth and tongue worked on her neck. She was already a writhing moaning mess just from his simple touches alone. He knew she was hyper sensitive, she had mentioned she started her cycle soon so he assumed it was her ovulating time. he learned in health class that during ovulation women are more sensitive, and he honestly loved the fact she was so sensitive for the first time he eats her out. He wanted her to feel every single movement of his tongue against her.

He slowly made his way over the valley of her breasts, sucking on and toying with her pink, taunt nipples while using his knee to grind against her still clothed cunt. The friction was driving her up the wall, feeling close already. She knew she wouldn‘t last too long but she didn’t care, she felt amazing.

His fingers made quick work of her pants, tugging the tight jeans off her legs revealing her pale yellow, lace panties that were sticky with her arousal, slippery even through the fabric, so much so she was dripping down her thighs. “Christ pet…look at you, making a mess huh? Who got you this wet sweetheart?” “Y-you, god you Harry please touch me, please it’s aching now” her pleads had his eyes rolling back, hooking his thumbs into her waistband and dragging them off her body, shamelessly bringing the crotch of her underwear up to his face to inhale her scent and suck her juice off the lace.

His senses were on high alert while he did it, he swears he could feel every nerve in his body tingling, every taste bud on his tongue dancing with her sweet, heady slickness. Her panties were shoved into his back pocket, deciding he’d keep them for later when he tugs his cock when he can’t sleep, he wanted to smell her pussy while he thought of her.

Soon, his body was situated stomach down on the couch, face level with her dripping quivering heat, his fingers running over the trimmed pubic hair she chose to keep on her mound, his other hand tracing the shape of her sex, teasing her, watching her pussy quiver every time he ghosted over her split lips her hips shaking as he finally gave her what she wanted, he went nose deep between her pretty lips breathing her in as he lapped at her core. He had to pin her hips down, her sensitive womanhood being serviced by his tongue was making her body jolt and buck into the air, and he wouldn’t have that. No, he was going to keep his mouth attached to her peach as long as he could. He was like an addict taking a hit while he was between her legs, his drug of choice was definitely Y/n .

“H-harry oh shit! O-oh god I f-feel it my tummy, i-im go-gonna… Harry I’m gonna cum!” her voice wavered as she took in frantic breaths, one hand tugging his hair harshly the other toying with her nipples. Harry replied only with a grunt and a speeding of his tongue on her clit, using his thumb to pull her hood back so he had direct access to the bundle of nerves she had tucked between her legs, and soon enough she was convulsing, dribbling down his chin and gasping for air like a fish out of water. She was a quivering mess as he sucked her juices right from the source, not letting up till she had to push his head away, snapping her thighs shut from the over stimulation. Letting himself linger over her watching her face a she drowned in pleasure, pleasure he gave her.

His thumbs gently rubbed against the apples of her cheeks while he watched her try to even out her breathing, her lips trembling a little from how intense she’d just came. “My pretty girl, hi sweetness I see you there. C’mon come back to me, deep breaths you’re alright. Are these good tears bunny? Felt so good made your eyes water? Good, that’s okay, don’t worry it can happen. You did such a good job tonight sweetheart. Proud of ya’, look so beautiful could stare at you forever. Open your eyes princess, eyes on mine wanna see my girl, there you go..”

Y/n used all the strength she had left to look back at Harry, her eyes misty from the intensity and her body trembling under him, “You okay love? Just a bit overwhelmed huh?” she nodded, swallowing harshly trying to wet her dry throat after all the moaning and screaming she’d done. “F-felt go-good, liked it h-harry” she couldn’t help the stutter from her shaky jaw, but Harry didn’t mind. He stared down at his girl with so much love and adoration, she had never felt better.

“I’m glad honey, can do it for you any time you want, yea? Lets go inside, wanna get cleaned up? Can go to bed then, see you’re all sleepy now huh? Cmon, think we’ve celebrated this anniversary right. Can’t wait till next month.”

[ericsonclan]

Bi Bros

Summary: Clementine and Aasim hang out at the mall and end up talking about their Disney crushes.

Word Count: 1550

Read on AO3:

Clementine munched on her slice of pepperoni pizza with a sort of absentminded gaze, her eyes focused on the arcade that stood by the food court of the Prescott mall. The sounds of the different arcade games and blinking lights made her continue watching. It would be fun to do a double date there sometime. She remembered that Mitch had flexed that he was the best at arcade fighting games; she’d like to prove him wrong. A competitive smile pulled on the corners of Clementine’s lips at the thought. She had to text Louis and share this idea.

“How’s your pizza?”

Aasim’s question snapped Clementine out of her thoughts and she looked over at him with a piece of pepperoni sticking out of her mouth. With a quick toss she threw it back in.

“Good, how's your Hawaiian pizza?” Clementine couldn’t fully hide her mild disagreement in that flavor choice.

“Sweet, hammy and delicious, thank you,” Aasim tossed the rest of the slice in his mouth then brushed his hands. After he had fully chewed and swallowed he spoke again. “Are you about ready to check out the bookstore?” “Yeah,” Clementine scarfed down the rest of the slice and started gathering up the trash. Aasim helped out, then the pair walked towards the nearest trash can, disposing of the wrappers and greasy napkins before placing the food trays on top of the trash can.

“Alright, onwards,” Clementine smiled and started to walk alongside Aasim who was rather giddy with excitement for a potential new book. “Any particular book you’re thinking of getting?”

“Hmm,” Aasim thought deeply on that question, his fingers scratching his goatee as he debated his answer. “I think a historical drama would be nice to add to the collection or another Sherlock Holmes book. Although I was planning on letting Prisha pick the next one,” Aasim continued to think, causing a happy smile to appear on Clementine’s lips. She always felt herself smile when a friend was talking about something they were passionate about. It was as if their excitement lit up her own. “I could also pick up Pride and Prejudice since Ruby wanted that to be our next bedtime book.”

“Bedtime book? I thought you two weren’t living together?” Clementine quirked an eyebrow at Aasim.

“We aren’t. We set up a voice call each evening and it's really nice, helps me sleep too,” Aasim scratched the back of his head with a shy smile. “Anyways, there are a lot of choices for what I can buy today,”

“All good ones for the sounds of it,” Clementine nodded along, letting the ice in her soda cup shake with the movement before she lifted it up and took a long sip. So long in fact that she had sucked all the soda completely out of the cup, leaving only the pile of ice.

“Yes, maybe I’ll spoil myself today and pick up a few,” Aasim smiled at the thought.

“Hell yeah! Treat yourself!” Clementine tossed the cup through the air and landed it in the trash can. A proud smile immediately radiated on her face as she walked forward, a bit more pep in her step.

“What about you?” Aasim glanced over at his friend who for some reason was surprised by the question.

“Shit, umm, I’m not sure. Sophie and Renata were gushing about this young adult adventure story where you get to pick choices that change the story as you go. They really want to see the ending I get and Louis was practically bouncing at the idea of that,” Clementine smiled fondly at the memory; her boyfriend was a massive dork and she loved him for it.

“Well, that does sound like fun,” Aasim nodded along before his eyes caught sight of the bookstore. “There it is!” Aasim’s face broke out into a smile and without thinking he grabbed Clementine’s hand, not being able to wait a second more. Clementine laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm as she tried to regain her footing.

“Aasim, hold up!”

Her words made Aasim realize what he was doing and he immediately let go. “Sorry about that,”

“It’s no big deal,” Clementine readjusted her baseball cap and denim jacket. “Alright, let's buy some books!” She pumped her fist in the air with a happy smile. “Yes!” Aasim mirrored her gesture then spun around and led the way. His excitement continued to grow as he looked at the shelves upon shelves of books, small, happy gasps leaving his lips when he saw the abundant choices he had the pleasure of perusing. His hands kept grasping at different books: hardcover and paperback, mystery novels and historical dramas, he wanted them all.

Clementine smiled at her friend, shaking her head good naturedly at the future outcome this would cause. Casually walking alongside him, Clementine peeked down the different aisles, taking out books that piqued her interest, but nothing stuck with her. Soon she found the adventure book that she was interested in and picked it up, tucking it under her arm. “Aasim, how long do you want to spend here?”

“Forever,” Aasim smiled behind his pile of books. “I’m joking. I only need about an hour more,”

“Okay,” Clementine nodded, then stretched her arms casually. She didn’t mind spending the afternoon in a bookstore. She enjoyed seeing how happy her friend was too as he kept picking up more and more books until they reached a section that drew Clementine’s attention.

“Holy shit,” Clementine stepped forward. Her sudden exclamation had Aasim looking up from his endless choices to see that Clementine was standing in front of the coloring book section.

“What's grabbed your attention?” Aasim toted his books over and peered over his friend’s shoulder to see A Princess and the Frog coloring book.

“Tiana is AJ’s favorite Disney princess,” Clementine explained as she picked up the coloring book. “He says she reminds him of me which is really sweet.” Her smile grew as pleasant memories bubbled forth.

“She is a pretty great princess but I don’t think she would be my favorite. Though I did have my fair share of favorite Disney princesses and princes,”

“Oh yeah?” Clementine wanted to hear all about this. “Gonna spill your Disney crushes? I’ll share mine if you share yours,”

Aasim thought about it for a moment then gave a smile. “Deal! Okay, I’ll start. So growing up I always loved The Little Mermaid for a lot of reasons but one of them was that I had a massive crush on Ariel,”

“Ooo, I see your thing for redheads started at an early age,” Clementine nudged his side with a teasing smile.

“I will have you know that I love Ariel for many reasons besides her looks, like how she was a scholar,”

“And wore a seashell bra, mmhmm,” Clementine continued her teasing. “I don’t blame you, good choice.”

“Thank you. I also had a crush on Eric - he was such a himbo: so hot, so stupid but with a big heart,” Aasim smiled then looked over at Clementine. “Alright, your turn. Tell your Disney secrets,”

“Okay, so I had a huge crush on Prince Phillip,” Clementine noticed the surprise on Aasim’s face. “What? He fought a dragon, he fucking threw his sword and pierced Maleficent’s heart! He was a total badass,”

“No arguments here. He was awesome, very handsome. Great choice. Okay, and for the princesses?”

“Well, I had a few, but Kida. That outfit, how badass and kind she was, that fight scene!” Clementine sighed. “Yep, she definitely helped me realize that I liked girls,”

“Ooo, I love Kida! She’s amazing. But y’know which Disney movie had a power couple who were both hot?”

“Yes!”

“It was Mulan ! Shang and Mulan were super hot!” Aasim and Clementine said at the same time. Their eyes grew large and they fist bumped.

“Right!” Clementine quieted down a bit when she saw one of the employees look her way. “They were both sooo hot,”

“Capable fighters, hearts of warriors, extremely hot,” Aasim nodded in agreement. “Plus Shang was totally bi,”

“Totally,” Clementine smiled up at her friend. The two continued to talk as they made their way to the cashier where Clementine bought the adventure novel and coloring book. Once her purchase was done Aasim stepped forward, quickly discarded the books he couldn’t afford, and slid forward a historical drama, Pride and Prejudice and a new journal.

“Oh, that's a nice journal,” Clementine admired the deep brown leather journal with a small, intricate design on its edges.

“Thanks, I’m excited to use it. Journaling is always so peaceful,”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll try it out,” Clementine saw the excitement in Aasim’s eyes at those words.

“Yes! I’m sure you’re going to love it,”

“Okay, then we can be journal bros and bi bros,” Clementine smiled up at Aasim.

He immediately returned it. “Sounds good to me.” Aasim strolled forward when suddenly he remembered something. “Oh yeah, I heard from Brody that there’s a good ice cream shop right by the food court. Wanna head there?”

Clementine’s eyes sparkled at those words. There was nothing better than grabbing some ice cream on a hot day. “Lead the way!” Aasim nodded then took the lead, excitedly starting up a new topic with Clementine as they headed toward sweet treats.