#ah the infamous epilogue

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: This was one of my all-time favorite chapters to write despite how sad it is. Be wanted, y'all, this one is HEAVY. Warning for parental death, violence & childhood trauma. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen PT I & PT II. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

EIGHT: GOOD DAMAGE.

“So you got a mom or dad?” Gojo asks, wearing Geto’s denim jacket as he slurps on your goodies. 

The question is so random and hard-hitting that it makes you pause from eating the bowl of soup inspired by your mother’s recipe and made with ingredients given to you by the townspeople of Bull’s Creek. 

After seeing Benji’s former bandits off to prison and receiving the thanks of the townspeople, including Miwa, Momo, Mechamaru, and Kuskabe (who does so with a nod your way), you and the gunslinging duo left Bull’s Creek and got on the road. It was only when the sun began to set and twilight sett in that you all decided to take a rest for the night. 

At that point, you had entered the mountains and found a tiny alcove near a cave and a brush of bushes and trees whose branches serve as hangers for your and Geto’s soiled clothes from the creek. Above the cave is a hot spring bubbling with hot water while down below the rocky mountainside, a field of wildflowers and fireflies that float up to meet you, lighting up the darkness the further the sun sets.

“Why don’t we rest tonight?” Geto suggested. “This will be a decent place, I think.” 

“And there’s a hot spring just above us!” Gojo excitedly said. “Ah, I could use a hot bath.” His stomach rumbles, evidently so by the sound that escapes his stomach. “And somethin’ to eat,” he sheepishly chuckled. 

You had already begun to shed your bags after tying Reneigh up with the duo’s horses up at the hot spring, letting them chomp on the wildflowers that sprout there. “Well, we’ve got all these goodies the townsfolk gave us,” you said, digging into the sack of food.

In total, the Bull's Creek folk gave you two sacks: one of food and the other of fresh clothes. Between the three of you, you divided the coin you received and kept them for yourselves. 

You looked inside the sack, pulling out each item: “Bowls, plates, bread, butter, rice, oooh, chicken broth!” Your excitement grew, happy to see such goodies.

Geto kneeled beside you, smiling fondly at the ripe tomato and the head of broccoli he found. “And all kinds of fruits n’ veggies,” he hummed, pleased with the turnout. “This will last us the whole trip if we ration well.” 

Your hand touched something soft and you pulled out a whole raw chicken. Holding it up to the duo, you gaped at it. “Uh…anybody know how to cut a whole chicken?” Two began to laugh, mostly at your hilarious reaction. “Why? You cookin’ it?” Gojo joked. 

You thought about tossing the chicken at him but decided not to. “Well, we’ve gotta eat and nothin’ beats chicken soup and wild rice.” Geto looked at you, shocked. “Oh…I was gonna cook for us.” But Gojo is pleasantly surprised, hands on his slim hips. “What a change of heart, little miss! Ya must like us now.” 

You glared at him as you began to set up the steel pot for cooking. “Don’t push ya luck, boy,” you snapped. “You two can set up camp while I cook.” You stood up and hurried up the slanted, smooth rock to the hot spring to wash your hands, mostly to get away from them. “Ah, so you tryna do the easy work!” Gojo called out to you, but you didn’t answer. 

Once you finished, you busied yourself building a small fire using some loose twigs, branches, and one of Gojo’s matches before preparing to cook. You roasted the chicken first which Geto kindly sliced the chicken up for you using one of your pocket knives. You had to turn the spit periodically on the fire while chopping vegetables (carrots, peas, broccoli, corn), so it was a lot of running back and forth. 

But you didn’t mind. You love cooking. Fixing something to eat is the one time you feel normal. It’s what makes you feel close to the people you left behind in your childhood, including your old self. 

Once the chicken is done roasting, its skin golden brown and juicy, you slice in into strips. You then fill the pot up with hot water from the spring, boil it, and fix the rice until its fluffy and white. Finally, you pour the chicken broth into the pot with the rice, sliced vegetables, and chicken, stirring it with a big wooden spoon you found in Geto’s bag. 

Speaking of Geto, he and Gojo set up camp during your cooking session. They set up sleeping bags, yours included, and place a blanket underneath to keep the dirt out of them. They set their boots, hats, and jackets aside, separated from your things. It seemed that they gave you your own spot, allowing you privacy and space. You appreciated that. 

Once the soup was finished, you announced that dinner was done and stood in front of the pot when they came running with their wooden bowls. “Hold up!” you exclaimed, putting out a hand to stop them. “Y’all wash y’all hands?”

The two looked at each other cluelessly which gave you you’re answer. “Hurry up before it gets cold,” you said and they went scurrying up the hill like rabid dogs, making you giggle to yourself. 

Minutes later, they returned and helped themselves to the meal. You sat down on a log with your own bowl, stretching your legs out. The duo sat on either side of you in a circle, passing a bottle of Jack between the three of you and ripping off pieces of bread to dip in your soup.

Gojo was sloppy, slurping greedily at his meal and making you wonder about some naughty shit. “Mmm, shit!” he moaned. “This is the best soup and rice I’ve ever had in my life!” 

In contrast to his partner, Geto was neat, taking his time eating his meal and (once again) making you mind wander. “I agree,” he sighed. “You’re quite the cook, little miss. Truly gifted.” Both compliments made your stomach flip. “Thank you,” you softly say, barely above a whisper as you took a sip of the Jack. It let a burn in your throat that you eased with the warm, hearty soup. 

Then came the burning question: “So you got a mom or dad?” 

You sit here now, the soup just at your mouth. Gojo looks at you expectantly, still slurping down his bowl. “Satoru,” Geto firmly says and shakes his head. Gojo raises an eyebrow, not understanding that this is a hot button topic. 

“No, it’s fine,” you protest. I suppose it’s only fair to tell you since y’all have told me so much about your lives.” You lower your spoon into your bowl, the fire crackling in front of you. “I have a mom and dad, yes, but adopted. I never knew my birth dad, but my birth mom always told me he was a rollin’ stone.” You chuckle to yourself. “Guess that meant he was a playboy.” 

You nod at the simmering pot on the ire. “This is my adopted mom’s recipe.” Geto smiles fondly, taking a swig of Jack. “Well, now I can see who you got such a gift from. Is she a cook?” 

You shake your head. “Not professionally, no. She’s a schoolteacher. My adopted dad is a farmer.” Gojo hums thoughtfully, chomping on some bread. “Where’s your birth mother now?” he curiously asks. “Still in your hometown?” 

You don’t think twice about it. You don’t even hesitate. “She was murdered,” you blurt. The silence that follows after this is deafening. The duo stare at you as if you just told them you’re pregnant. Placing the bowl aside, you tu​​rn to the crackling fire, not wanting to look at them and see their pity. 

“I was a little girl when a bunch of outlaws invaded my town,” you explain to the flames. “They ransacked every store, destroyed every home, and killed nearly every single person…including my mom.” You can feel yourself going back to that time, your mother’s terrified eyes behind your eyelids when you blink. A hot rush of tears begins to build.

Sensing your discomfort, Geto steps in. “You don’t have to go on,” he soothingly says. But you shake your head. “It’s okay.” “No, it’s not,” you argue, forcing the tears away. “I need to tell you why I hate outlaws so much. I need to tell you why I am the way I am.” 

You turn back to them, staring them in the eye. “But y’all are sure you wanna hear this?” you wryly joke. “I have to warn y’all that it’s quite long and tragic.” And the two stare you right back in the face. “I thought we already established that we’re ones for long and tragic backstories, darlin’,” Gojo replies. “Take your time.” 

Geto passes you the bottle of Jack and you take a much-needed swig. “I was nine years old when they came,” you begin and the memories come flooding back like a tidal wave. 

********

The summer you turned ten years old was supposed to be a joyous one. 

It was supposed to be a day where you and your mother spent the day in your hometown of Pinewood, known for its farms and heavy population of flowers.

Your mom would usually wake you up with pancakes covered in strawberries and whipped cream (your favorite), presents, and then take you into town to the bakery, the library, the movies, the fruit orchard to pick peaches and plums, or any other place a young girl like you would love to visit for her special day. 

But that was further from the case. It was only two weeks until you turned ten that your home was destroyed and burned to the ground. 

Pinewood was once a small but humble town of a couple hundred people. Everyone knew each other and there was community. Adults looked after neighbors’ children late at night and pies were brought over to welcome newcomers to the town. Farmers, teachers, landscapers, florists, bakers and cooks, etc…you would find them all here, building their lives and careers. 

The autumns were crisp and the summers were warm. This particular summer night you remember you were asleep in your bed, the sound of buzzing cicadas having hummed you to sleep earlier. Your bedroom, pink, cozy, and girly, was still except for you–the sleeping girl in her pony PJs. But late into the night, you awakened, feeling compelled by something to do so. 

You sat up in bed and looked out the window. Your backyard of honeysuckle and your mom’s prized vegetable garden looked back at you. The sweet summer breeze blew your curtains around like pink wisps. You don’t know why you woke up. You usually can sleep through a tornado. But this time, you couldn’t. 

Something felt…wrong.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. And then you realized it: the cicadas had stopped singing. A warm night that was usually filled with the buzzing song of the cicadas in the trees had ceased, leaving the night eerily quiet.

Then, suddenly, your bedroom opened, and in rushed your mother. You were too deep in your sleep fog to see that she was frazzled and scared, still in her nightgown and slippers. 

“Mama?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing at your eye. “What’s going on?”

She came over and ripped the covers off of you. “Baby, get up,” she hurriedly said, pulling you out of bed by your arm. “C’mon, get your slippers on and follow me.” 

You stared at her, confused and still sleepy. “But, Mama–” 

“Stop it, Y/N!” she yelled. You are startled, confused, and afraid. Your mother had never yelled at you like this before.

And then you saw her eyes: wild and scared like a cornered animal. It scared you. “We need to go now,” she firmly said. “Now get on your slippers and let’s go.” This time, you didn’t argue or protest. You slipped on your slippers and took your mom’s hand. 

She squeezed it as she led you out of your bedroom and down the hallway, walking past the bathroom, kitchen, dining area, and laundry room. Your home was a ranch, so it was only one floor with the bedrooms located at the back. Your mom guided you to the front door but looked back at you before she opened the door.

“Follow me,” she instructed. “Don’t let go of my hand, understood?” She didn’t wait for you to answer. 

After unlocking the door, she yanked the door open. You still wish she hadn’t. Your town, once blossoming with businesses, cozy homes, and life was now burning.

Flames that exploded from buildings licked the night sky. Crops were on fire. Guns exploded in your eardrums that sounded like firecrackers. People and animals alike ran for cover and safety. People in black clothing and bandanas covering their mouths ran after them, hooting and hollering. Some of these intruders also ran in on horses, rifles and pistols drawn. 

You didn’t see any bodies, thank God, but it didn’t matter. The trauma was already set in your body from that very moment you and your mother stood outside of your home in the chaos. 

“Mama, what’s happening?!” you yelled, pulling on her hand. 

She then began to run with you, hurrying down the road. “I don’t know, baby,” she answered, “but we’ll be okay! Just don’t let go of me.” You didn’t, but someone did it for you. As you were running with your mom, you unfortunately didn’t get that far away from your house when you suddenly felt two arms snatch you away. 

You screamed, wriggling around in the stranger’s arms. Your mother looked back and rushed to help you, but she too was grabbed by another stranger in black and tossed to the ground. “Mommy!” you squealed.

You tried to struggle out of the arms binding you, but your mom’s assaulter took out a long-barreled pistol and pointed it at your mother’s temple. “Shut up, you little brat,” he snarled. “Keep that mouth shut or your ma gets it.” 

You immediately went quiet and the bandit behind you cackled. Despite his own bandana covering his mouth, you could smell the booze on his breath. You looked down at his hands around you. One of them had a rose tattoo on his knuckles. 

The bandit nodded at your ranch. “Nice house ya got here, bitch,” he chuckled. “Even nicer land. I bet ya got some pretty pennies for a pad like this, eh?” He crouched down beside your mother. She lied in the dirt on her side, her clothes ruined and her knee scraped by her fall. 

“No,” she whimpered. “My people are humblefolk. We don’t have much money and neither do I, especially with a child.” 

The bandit took a handful of her coiled hair in his fist, yanking her up. “So you callin’ me a liar?” he snarled. “I don’t like bitches who talk back, y’know.” He cocked his gun at her, but your mother was afraid like you were watching. “I don’t have what y’all are lookin’ for!” she snapped. “Please just let us go!” 

The bandit tossed her down and shared a look with his partner. “If you don’t give us money then you’ll have to give us somethin’ else,” he growled at your mother. “How much you think her kid will cost, man?” The bandit hugged you to him, making a show of caressing your face. “Mmm…’bout a couple hundred at least.” 

You shook in terror. What did they mean? Were they going to take you away from your mother? She seemed to know what they meant though and looked like she wanted to murder both bandits. “You wouldn’t do that,” she hissed. “You know damn well that the law is already out for y’all for this, so you’d only be sinkin’ your ship farther if you do anything to my daughter.” 

The bandit pressed the bun to her temple, laughing. “You think we give a fuck about the law, bitch?” he cackled, tossing his head back. “The law won’t ever find us and half of them are pussies anyway. The bossman is like the Boogeyman to them.” Your mother’s expression softened and she suddenly looked hopeless. That scared you even more. 

The bandit smirked and pressed the gun to her chin. “Now what should we do about that mouth of yours?” he whispered. His partner chuckled suggestively. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he sniggered. Despite the gun in her face, your mother turned her head to you, her eyes glassy but filled with acceptance. “Y/N, my little flower,” she tearfully said. “I love you.” 

Before you could even blink, she bit down on the bandit’s hand hard. Hard enough to draw blood. The bandit screamed as he pulled his hand away now coated in deep, bloody teethmark. 

“Oh, you bitch,” he spat. “Now you’ve pushed your luck.” He took her by her hair again and threw her down onto her stomach execution style. 

“Mama, no!” you wailed, reaching for her. She looked up at you, eyes wild and dirt caked to her face. “Run, Y/N!” she screamed. “Run until you reach the fields!” 

As your fight or flight kicked in, you elbowed the bandit behind you in the stomach, loosening his grip. Just as you turned to run, two shots ran out behind you. You never turned around to see if it was your mother. You just knew it was.

So you ran as you cried, your eyes blurred with salty tears and fear pumping in your blood. “Get that little bitch!” the bandit yelled, pointing at you. 

Hooves began to thud against the ground behind you, but you didn’t turn. You didn’t stop. You just ran, something pulling you along despite your fatigue. You still don’t know if it was God, your mother’s spirit, or just your will to live. Either way, it got you all the way down to the cornfields three minutes outside of your town. 

At this point, the sound of the bandits behind you faded, but you knew they would eventually gang up on you. Wheeled wooden carts sat beside the fields that usually were used to deliver food, flowers, and other deliveries into other towns. You chose quick and jumped into the back of one cart of flowers. You hid deep beneath the many plants, petals, and bulbs, keeping quiet. 

Even as you heard the horses and saw torches flash beneath the flowers, you held your breath and imagined yourself as but a rock. A head of corn. A flower like the ones surrounding you. 

“Where’d she go?” he gruffly asked. A light flashed in your face and you coveved your mouth. 

“I think I saw her go in here,” his partner said before they walked into the cornfields together. You didn’t move even as the light vanished. Even as the rustling of the corn stalks got further away. Even when all you heard were the bandits’ horses chuffing to one another.

You don’t know how long you had been there–minutes? Hours?–, but suddenly, you heard footsteps and hooves beside you and then the cart moved slightly as someone got in the front to drive off. And then the cart began to move, taking you away and into the unknown. 

‘The unknown’ turned out to be Elden Valley, a small town a two-day travel away from Pinewood. It is home to humble, quiet folk. Humble, quiet folk like Eren Tokiyami, an older farmer with salt-and-pepper hair and calloused hands, and his wife Yuri, a longtime baker.

Eren and Yuri ordered flowers and seeds specifically from your town’s florist to plant and decorate the outside of Yuri’s bakery. Imagine their surprise to find a scared, dirty, and traumatized little girl lying beneath the bed of tulips and petunias. 

You found yourself in a barn smelling of manure and animals. Yuri covered her mouth while Eren stared down at you like he couldn’t believe you were real. “My God,” he gasped. “Where’d you come from, little one?”

You could barely speak. You hadn’t had water or food in two days. “P-Pinewood,” you whispered, and then everything went black when you passed out in Eren’s arms. 

After taking you to the town’s doctor and nursing you back to help, the couple adopted you as their own. The town of Elden Valley and all others in the county heard of the massacre of Pinewood. Dozens of people died, including your mother, but you didn’t any any detectives or coroners telling you that. 

For nine years, Eren and Yuri fed you, dressed you, and cared for you. But it wasn’t enough to thaw you. It wasn’t enough to melt the ice that had formed and hardened around your heart and soul.

You had grown tough, taking your anger out on kids at school and constantly skipping to ride horses. It was when you turned sixteen that you met Reneigh for the first time who was no more than a stubborn, violent horse that Eren recently saved from an abusive owner. 

You felt like she was just like you and maybe she did too, so she was always calm in your presence and became yours. Eren and Yuri thought that with Reneigh, along with some guidance and love, you would be able to get back on track. You did for a little while. You baked pies with Yuri, planted crops with Eren, studied, and graduated from school. 

Then, one day, you just left.

It was a month after you graduated at age eighteen. You knew you couldn’t spend your life in Elden Valley, pretending that vengeance and bloodlust weren’t inside of you. To do something constructive with that anger, you took one of Eren’s many guns that he taught you how to use and went out to the woods beyond his and Yuri’s house. In the blue of dawn, you set up an old glass bottle there and stood yards away from it. 

As Eren taught you, you kept still and calm, aimed, and shot. You missed. So you tried again. And again. And again. Every morning before your parents awakened, you went out to practice in secret. And every time you drew that gun and shot, you were better. Quicker. Sharper. Then, one day, you finally it: you aimed and the bottle broke. You knew what you had to do from that very moment. 

So after a night of dinner with your parents and telling them how much you loved them, you waited until they went to sleep to pack, tossing everything you could into a bag. Including two of Eren’s pistols. You hid your identity behind a cowgirl hat and bandana, forever your disguise. 

Before you left, you wrote a letter to your parents, not wanting to leave them without any last words: 

Dear, Mama & Papa, 

I’m sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused you over the last nine years. I thank you both from the bottom of my heart for taking me in as your own. I’ll never forget your kindness. It is what is needed in such a cruel world. Please don’t come looking for me and don’t worry about me. Just know that I’m fine. If I never see you again, I love you both endlessly. Thank you for giving me back my innocence.

Love, Y/N.

And like a thief in the night, you hopped on Reneigh and you were gone. And so the Fatale Femme was born. You didn’t feel anything when you caught your first outlaw body…only more vengeance.

It got stronger the more you killed. The more you fled. The more you pulled that trigger. You have been doing this for so long that you believed that this coldhearted tyrant is you now. For so long you thought you had lost yourself and only the Fatale Femme remained. 

But now, sitting here among two outlaws, feared and loved by many, you feel as if you’re finally getting yourself back. Geto and Gojo stare at you in the firelight, sadness in their eyes. You sit there, ravaged by your past and trembling.

“I never thanked y’all for savin’ my life today,” you say. “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I didn’t see that y’all are different from the others. I’m sorry that I didn’t want to acknowledge it.” 

Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, too hot and too quick to stop. The real you, outside of the bandana, the guns, and the cool exterior, has been released. “That’s why I do what I do,” you tearfully explain. “That’s why I am what I am. That’s why I need to find Benji.” 

Geto puts his gloved hand in yours, warm and comforting. “And we’ll help you,” he softly promises. “We had a deal, remember? We’re a team now, so do you ever go thinkin’ you’re alone in this.”

His brown eyes are firm but gentle, reminding you so much of Eren’s. “Thank you for sharin’ with us and I know you won’t believe me, but I know your parents are proud of you, includin’ your birth mother.” 

He offers a smile that seems to melt you. When Gojo gets up to move next to you, squeezing you between them, you feel like you’re about to turn into a puddle. You feel nothing but warmth that overwhelms you in the best possible way. It is foreign and weird, but good. Real good. 

Gojo’s blue eyes sparkle at you, as beautiful and as alluring as the fireflies that float amongst you. “Did I ever tell ya about the time I got my ass stuck on a bear trap?” he randomly asks. “Oh, or that one time Geto got eaten up by leeches?”

Geto rolls his eyes as he puts his hair back into a long ponytail. “Damn, you tellin’ her that one?” he sighs. 

And that’s when you realize that the strange warmth you’re feeling is gratitude. You smile at Gojo and wipe your tears, knowing he would ask you to. “N-No,” you giggle through a sniffle. “I don’t believe you have.” 

For the rest of the night, you laugh and drink with the duo, not a single care in the world despite your past and scars. At some point, the alcohol rears its ugly head and pulls you down into the ink black of a booze-induced sleep. You pass out in front of the fire and barely feel Gero cover you with a blanket...and lightly kiss you on the forehead. “The sweetest dreams, Y/N,” he coos. “We’ll try to have the same.” 

When the long-haired outlaw sits up on his knees after closely examining the way the flames of the fire flicker across your beautiful face and the serene expression you wear, he looks at Gojo who wears an equally pained look. “You feel it too,” he states.  

Geto looks down at you again and sighs a heavy, tired sigh. “Yeah,” he replies. 

“So we’re fucked," Gojo once again states.

And Geto, now looking up at the stars for answers, once again sighs, “Yeah.”

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kou Ecstasy [Epilogue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the Big Hall at Eden

Kou: ...Haah.

( Seems like everyone’s restless after all. )

( Makes sense. There might be a long battle waiting ahead of us after all. )

Reiji: This fight could last quite some time. You should be well prepared for that.

Subaru: ...I won’t deny that it was my fault that my Mother died. 

Still, it’s not like those Vibora go completely guilt-free either.

That’s why...I’ll definitely avenge her.

Kou: ...

Kino: Ahーah. I’m so bored. Say, can’t we tell funny stories or something?

Reiji: ...Haah. What are you acting so carefree for...?

Kino: I mean, it’s the Ghouls and the Familiars doing the actual fighting.

So we don’t really have anything to do until they actually make it over here, do we? 

Reiji: Well, you do have a point but...

Kino: It’s settled then! Come on, gather around, everyone!

ー The others walk up to them

Kou: ( I wonder what kind of story Kino-kun will tell? )

Kino: Once upon time, there was a certain family of noblesーー

Monologue

Kino-kun began to tell a tale of the past. 

A strange one...

yet it sent shivers down my spine. 

ーー Once upon a time.

there was a couple of nobles, 

who were blessed with a child despite already being of age,

the child which was born,

was a beautiful and adorable son,

with golden locks and blue eyes. 

The couple decided to give him the name ‘Emilio’,

and raised him with love and care.

However, their days of peace,

did not last very long. 

The area in which they lived,

became the ground for a fierce battle,

due to a certain individual’s actions. 

The boy was still very young at this time,

so the wealthy couple hired a wet nurse,

who would raise the boy.

While all of this went down,

the war escalated, as the couple saw themselves no other choice,

but to flee their country. 

However they could not run,

together with a small child.

With pain in their hearts,

they decided to entrust their son to his wet nurse.

However, the war only got worse.

In the end, the wet nurse felt like taking care of a small infant,

was simply too much trouble,

so she ended up dumping him somewhere ーー ...

Kino: ...Seems like the blonde boy lived quite the tragic life from that point onwards. 

A manhole baby, is that what you’d call him? Ahaha! Poor little thing!

Kou: ...

Ruki: ...Don’t tell me, is this boy you speak of Kou?

Azusa: Eh? It’s Kou...?

Yuma: ...Hold up, Ruki. That would be way too much of a dick move, don’t ya think...?

Kino: Fufu, you’re spot on, Ruki. 

Ruki: ...!

Azusa: H-Hey...Kino-san. What happened to the couple who ran away...?

Kino: Hmー ...Unfortunately they passed away. The train they were on got blown up from what I heard.

That being said, it turned out to have been a planned out attack rather than an unfortunate accident.

...Ah, actually. I know one more interesting story. 

ーー It was a certain someone who initiated said war. 

This man was a Demon, infamous for infiltrating the human world while taking on a different name and appearance...

...Hey, Emilio. Do you know who that could be? 

Kou: ーー !? 

( Why did Kino-kun choose to tell this story now...? )

( Why is he calling me Emilio in the first place? I’m not. This has nothing to do with me...! )

Leona: ...

*Cling* 

Leona: Your name is Emilio. And I am your mother.

The one who plotted the war ーー was Karlheinz.

Kou: ...Ah...

Leona: The man who cleverly worked his way into our community of nobles back when I was still alive and was a part of it as well.

That was none other than Karlheinz. I saw his face crystal clear...!

That face of his which screamed that he was non-human...!

Kou: ーー You’re lying!

He would never do such a thing! You’ve definitely got the wrong man!

Leona: Emilio, you mustn’t! Don’t let that man fool you!

Karlheinz was looking for humans to experiment on. That is why he needed their corpses. 

...Do you know why?

Kou: I don’t...How am I supposed to know...?

Leona: To create Ghouls like me, you see.

Kou: ...

Leona: After my death, my corpse was disposed at in Rotigenberg where the air is heavily polluted.

I am a former-human. I only became a Ghoul at a later point in my life.

Yuma: ...In other words, if this chick’s tellin’ the truth, we’ve been treatin’ the guy who caused all the misery in our lives as a dad?

Azusa: ...

Ruki: ...

Kou: ( No, there’s no way. That Ghoul is lying. )

( I mean, Karlheinz-sama would never do such a thing... )

Kou: You’re lying...Uu...

Ruki: ーー Calm down, Kou.

Kino, unfortunately, I do not intend to fall for your schemes.

Or rather, what are you hoping to achieve by playing with our emotions?

Reiji: ーー No, I believe he is telling the truth. 

With my very own eyes, I have seen reports of Father’s research on the polluted air of the Demon World, here in the research facility of Eden. 

Kino: Ahaha! As to be expected of Reiji! You’re quick to understand. ...Here!

ー Kino throws a bunch of papers at Kou

Kou: ...!?

Kino: Get it now? That guy was a scumbag, don’t you agree?

I’m pretty sure he abandoned me in Rotigenberg as part of this research project as well. 

Kou: ...Then.

Did he bring us to this castle...as a way to atone for his sins...?

Kino: Who knows? You four might have just been yet another one of his sacrifices.

Kou: ...

Kino: ...That being said. I believe it’s time to end this bastard’s bloodline. 

ー They are suddenly surrounded by Ghouls

Subaru: !? Whatcha playin’ at!?

Reiji: ...I see. This number of Ghouls...We’ve been set up.

Kino: Ahaha! Sorry! I used you to my own advantage~

By the way, all of the Ghouls gathered here were once humans.

They’re all victims of Karlheinz’ doings. They were forced to become Ghouls against their own will. 

ーー Ah, there might be a few people you know amongst them.

Especially for the Mukamis who were also once human.

Yuma: Ya bastard! What do ya mean!?

Ruki: Calm down, Yuma. Don’t play into his hands.

Yuma: ...Ugh...

Kino: Hey, Subaru. Can you fight those kinds of people?

*Cling*

*Splatter* 

Subaru: ーー Guah!?

ー Subaru collapses

Kou: Subaru-kun!

ー Kou rushes to his side

Kou: ( He was stabbed in the chest by a silver knife...!? )

A-Are you alright!? I’ll carry you to safety right away!

*Rustle* 

Subaru: Haah...Sorry...Guh...

Kou: Don’t talk! That’ll only make you lose more blood...!

Subaru: Haah...Hey, I’m beggin’ ya...Make it quick...Kuh. 

I’ll give you my dad’s powers so...Please use those to protect her...

Kou: What are you saying!? I can’t do that!

Subaru: ...But...I...

Kou: Oh come on! No more speaking!

*Rustle* 

Kou: ーー !

Subaru: Oi...What are you doin’...?

Kou: I’ll take you to her!

You should seek shelter there, as it’s the safest place!

I still have the key on me, you see...

Subaru: Guh...If you won’t kill me...then just leave me alone...

Kou: Oh shut up! Work with me here!

( ...Don’t worry. My brothers will clear the way for us. )

( I promise that I’ll save Subaru-kun! )

ー The scene shifts to the Chamber of Time

Yui: ( I can hear the sound of weapons clashing in the distance. )

( Oh no, I’m scared... )

...Kou-kun...

ー The door opens

*Creaaaak* 

Yui: ーー !?

Kou: ...Haah...

Yui: ...Kou-kun...? And Subaru-kun as well!?

( They’re both covered in blood!? I better tend to their wounds at once...! )

ー Yui runs up to them

Yui: Kou-kun, Subaru-kun, how...!?

Kou: Don’t worry, M-neko-chan. I’m not harmed.

Yui: Eh? ...Then this is all Subaru-kun’s blood...?

Subaru: Kuh...

Hey...I’m beggin’ you...Kill me...

Yui: S-Subaru-kun! Why would you say such a thing...!? 

Subaru: I’ve...inherited these powers...so I will recover from this injury with time...

However...The crimes my dad committed...will never fade.

Yui: Eh?

( What did I miss...? )

Kou: Hey, cut it out!

Let me tell you. You and Karlheinz-sama are two entirely different people!

Besides, it makes no sense for you to have to atone for what your dad did, just because you inherited his powers, don’t you think!?

Subaru: ...!

Kou: This whole story about my parents as well. I honestly don’t know just how much of it we can trust.

Even if you had to atone for his sins, this wouldn’t be the way to do it!

Subaru: ...

Yui: I agree. I don’t know what exactly happened while I wasn’t there but...

No matter what happened, I don’t think it should warrant you having to die, Subaru-kun.

Subaru: ...

Kou: If you want to atone for what he did, let’s end this fight? We have to defeat Kino-kun. 

Subaru: ...Yeah. Thanks...ーー

ー He loses consciousness

Yui: ーー Subaru-kun!?

Kou: Don’t worry. He’s just unconscious, that’s all.

...More importantly, I have to fill you in on what happened.

We have little time, so I’ll have to sum it up but hear me out.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: No way...

( I thought the fighting I could hear outside was with the Vibora. )

( I would have never thought it’d be the Ghouls under the command of Kino-kun... )

( ...Also, there’s Kou-kun’s mother as well. )

Hey, Kou-kun. I want to ask you something. Please take me with you.

Kou: N-No way...! You might be in danger!?

Yui: Even so! I no longer want to wait here by myself...

Kou: Yui...

ー Subaru gets up

Subaru:  ーー Sounds good. ...You come with us.

Kou: Subaru-kun...You’re okay already...?

Subaru: Yeah. I’m not a weakling like you are.

...But, Yui.

I might not be able to protect you guys. Are you ready for that?

Yui: Yes. I’ll keep myself safe. 

Subaru: Hehe. Nice response.

Oi, Kou. You’re ‘kay with this too, right? 

Kou: ...Okay. I’m sure this will be the final battle, so let’s all go together.

Yui: Thank you...

Monologue

Perhaps it was due to our words of encouragement,

but Subaru-kun’s injuries,

healed at a surprisingly quick rate. 

He began to defeat the Ghouls,

one after the other.

The three of us dashed through Eden at lightning speed.

Towards that place,

where Kino-kun would await us ーー The World Tree

ー The scene shifts to the World Tree

Kou: ーー Ah, over there!

ー They run up to Kino

Kino: Fufu, I’ve been waiting for you. 

Subaru: ...Say, there’s somethin’ I don’t get.

I can sorta get why the Ghouls would resent that shitty Old Man and seek revenge. 

...But what about you?

Perhaps you simply hate all Vampires and want to kill us ‘cause we’re his sons.

But aren’t you also a Vampire and that guy’s son? 

Seems like someone has double standards, huh? 

Kino: I don’t see why I would need to answer that question.

Subaru: ...!

Kino: You don’t need to know. ーー Well then, here I come!

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[dear-mrs-otome]

Hi, I just finished Silvio's true love ending, but I wanna ask if you could confirm their convo from the epilogue

Did Gilbert really said "Because I love Bunny-san" right to Silvio's face? Or is it like? I'm using an app so I am not really sure. Thank you

Haha ah yes....this infamous bit.

The answer to your question is...maybe?? Djdjdjdj LOL Welcome to the ambiguity. Background, for those who aren't familiar with the scene: This is a flashback to the conversation where Silvio had negotiated with Gilbert to sign off on the 4-way treaty. Gilbert eventually says he'll do so if Silvio will promise him one thing - that he'll become king of Benitoite.

He says it's because Silvio's untainted, unlike his dad who is sullied. And he also says Emma is the same, a pure person and he doesn't want to see her corrupted either. Silvio angrily says he'll keep that from happening, he won't allow anyone to taint her, not even Gilbert.

This seems to please Gilbert, and relieved he says the above. 'Because I really like Miss Bunny.' 大好き can be interpreted as 'loving a lot', it's all in context. Would Gilbert be outrageous enough to say that to the face of the man he knows loves Emma and she loves back?? Perhaps. Personally, it IS Gilbert so I wouldn't put anything outrageous past him.

I think it's probably safer to go with 'really like'...but whether that's meant in a friendly way or a romantic one is something only Gilbert knows. Or whether he even means it at all. The only thing we can say for sure is that, if he's being genuine, he harbors a great affection for Emma.

Just how and to what degree is up to the reader to interpret, until we have his route I suppose.

[khaleesiofalicante]

💌💌💌

💌 - Share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Am I supposed to say three things now? 🙊

If it hasn't already been clear, I'm super excited for LBAF 5. There is so much work to do and I get to create so many new characters and that's always so fun!

Three things for you.

Something I'm particularly excited about is the format. It's quite similar to LBAF 1 and 2. The actual plot will happen in the second part (LBAF 6??) but LBAF 5 is basically a collection of short stories that bridge the gap between what happened between the last chapter of LBAF 4 and the present timeline that was shared in the epilogue. We will get to see how Arthur and Kincaid met, we will see Max stop aging, we will see Lance's first trip to the pandemonium, we will see Anjali's retirement, we will see Selena and Gabriel's first fight, we will see how and why Mavid started the tradition of getting married secretly in every universe. We will see the infamous '11 days' mentioned by Other Max.

2. Also unlike LBAF 1, the short stories will not be limited to the main povs. We will get stories from so many characters, including the tmi gang and lbaf gang and side characters like Jackson and even Kyle.

3. I am VERY excited - and scared - to write Other Max pov. Because it's gonna be there too :)

+ bonus - WE WILL SEE LUCIFER AH.

[bookishprincessc]

Books Read in 2017: Clockwork Princess by Cassandra Clare

“Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read”

[literaryobsession]

sun and moon || xiao x reader

summary: a wandering tarot card reader from Mondstadt stops by the Wangshu Inn and in the process comes across the infamous Yaksha

warning: not proofread

word count:

chapters: sun, moon, epilogue

CHAPTER III - ECLIPSE

You ventured back to Liyue, wanting to make peace with the Yaksha you bothered. Venti seems to know something that would appease Xiao but he wasn’t about to make things easier for you. 

It was alright, you thought, because you have to discover it for yourself.

“Ah, traveler! Back again! How many nights will you stay for?” Verr Goldet’s smile greeted you in the inn.

You pooled all of the Mora you brought, most of which you borrowed from Mona that you promised you’d pay off with interest when you get back. “Will this be enough for one night?” You asked, “Also, what do you think would a Yaksha like to eat? No no, hang on. Don’t answer that. I’ll figure this out on my own.”

Verr Goldet stared at you for a moment and laughed, “Alright. You have enough to stay for one night and one meal. Would you like to have it in your room or in the dining area?”

You licked your lips as you mulled it over, your intuition tells you to say something out of the choices. “Upstairs. Out in the open. I’d like to have it for dinner.”

“Would you like our chef to make you something?” Verr’s eyes sparkled, almost like Venti’s, and your gut tells you to agree. “Alright. I’ll call you when everything’s ready.”

You headed straight to your room and took out the cards in your bag. For a moment, you want to read the outcome of your decisions so far. Would you be successful? Should you have chosen something else? But before you can shuffle your cards, you put it down on the mattress and realized you didn’t want to.

Yes, you decided on intuition.

Yes, people trusted you and your gift of divination.

 But you didn’t have to know.

You have to conquer this on your own.

So, for the first time, you put your cards back in your bag and decided to leave it up to fate. You didn’t have to know; whatever will happen, will simply happen. If you made the wrong choice then you’ll simply have to learn from it and make a better one.

It was already dark when Verr knocked on your door, telling you that Smiley Yanxiao already prepared the table for you up in the top of the inn as you requested. 

You thanked her and you went upstairs. Smiley Yanxiao prepared a table, two chairs, and a big plate of what seems to be Almond Tofu. You looked at it, wondering if that was enough for your dinner. You never really cared for tofu but if this was the meal your money was able to get you,  you would dare not complain.

When you sat down, you noticed another plate. Was the Almond Tofu made for sharing? You wondered as a gust of wind ran by you, interrupting your question. 

Xiao appeared by the shadows, gazing at you with his eyebrows furrowed. He had his arms crossed over his chest and you felt like you need to leave because you disturbed him again.

You wished him peace but you kept on disrupting it.

“Oh, uh, peace offering.” You stood up quickly, “I’ll leave you this um...plate.” Even though you were hungry, you didn’t want to bother him too much so you turned for the door.

“You can stay. This is set up for you.” He said, making you stop in your tracks.

You turned to look at him and remembered that you didn’t have any Mora to spare for what you came for so yo insisted, “Peace offering. That’s a peace offering.” 

“I can make do with half of it.” Xiao looked away from you and clenched his jaw. Was he about to say something else?

Cautiously, you sat back down. You put half of the dish on the plate that was probably meant for Xiao and half on yours. You can feel his eyes on you but you didn’t dare acknowledge it anymore.

You took the spoon and finally looked at him again, “Would you eat with me?”

Xiao looked surprised by your question but he quickly masked it with indifference. “I have no desire to eat with a mortal.” He looked away again.

Then why are you still here?

“I apologize for invading your privacy, Xiao.” You murmured as you started eating, “I’ve always read other people’s cards and my master told me to never read without permission. Your story was not mine to read.”

You heard his scoff, “What is the difference? You would hear it eventually from the others.” You knew he meant Verr Goldet.

“Your story is yours to share. I should not have done what I have done.” The almond tofu felt almost tasteless, even with Smiley Yanxiao’s culinary expertise. “I was curious and restless. I wanted to know, not knowing I was prying.”

You heard footsteps, his footsteps. They were light bt you knew he was headed for the chair across yours. Xiao surprised you by sitting down, looking at you curiously, “People come and go in this inn. I have heard your story. You are known in Liyue for giving solutions. Many praise the ground you walk on, wondering when they’ll ever see you again. I do not have the same kind of luxury, mortal. It is only bad fortune that befalls on everyone I come across. Have your cards not told you that?”

Xiao was a wounded fighter. He had the strength of a thousand skilled warriors, an aura that can bring you fear, and abilities that can make you question your own. There is so much about him that makes you wonder why you’re even trying. He was an entity shrouded with darkness, it hung around him like a cloak. While you kept peace around you, he has a never ending battle around him.

“No.” You shook your head, “The cards never told me. They simply told me how difficult your life is. You have lived a long life but it wasn’t a happy one. Until now, you are living that life.”

“A life without suffering is a meaningless one, mortal. Anyone who desires it is foolish.” His piercing gaze met yours.

“But a life only with suffering is a futile one.” You countered. Of all the things you learned from reading your cards, you believe that all problems will end. Each suffering, pain, and hardship will eventually disperse. Things will end.

Xiao looked up at the moon, like he did when you last saw him. “Maybe.”

He looked more peaceful now than he did before so you took it as a sign to shut up and enjoy the food. Xiao didn’t eat with you but he sat by you in silence, you wondered what he was thinking about.

Was he reliving his life in his mind’s eye? Was he thinking if the life he lived is a futile one?

When you were done eating, you pulled out your cards. Xiao whipped his head to your sudden movement and he looked apprehensive before he realized what you were holding.

“Here.” You laid the Sun card on the empty space beside his plate. “To remind you of happiness.” Your cards will be incomplete because of what you did but you felt like you should do it. Anyway, you can have another deck from Marjorie. It will be a debt you have to pay off for awhile but it will have to do.

Xiao’s eyes analyzed the card for a few seconds, as though trying to gauge if there was anything dangerous about it. When he decided that it was harmless, he looked up at you with his eyebrows furrowed again, “I do not have any use for...”

“You deserve peace.” You looked intently at him, hoping he would take it. So before he could say anything else, you left the Yaksha alone.

The light from the morning sun woke you up. You forgot to close the curtains and you regretted it so you pulled yourself up from your bed and stretched your arms. Out of habit, you reached out for your deck which was safely stowed in your bag, which was on your bedside table but you remembered that your cards were missing a piece and you knew your cards were useless if they were not complete.

So you sighed and rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm. 

When you were fully woken up, you saw something on the table by your window. You stood up and saw a lone Qingxin - it was one of the many flowers famous in Liyue but it was very difficult to get because it only grows on the highest of peaks. You’d have to be quite skilled to be able to acquire one flower. This was an expensive flower to purchase from shops too, not only was it difficult to get but it also grows alone. It would be a miracle for you to catch two Qingxins growing beside one another.

You frowned, wondering who put it there, but after a few minutes, Xiao came to mind. Surely he would be the only one to be able to acquire such a flower in the span of a few hours. 

But it didn’t make sense to you though, why would he give this to you?

Was it because he didn’t want to be in debt because you gave him a gift?

But you knew that it was alright not to know, you didn’t always have to know the answer so you took the flower and tucked it safely in the front pocket of your bag. Hopefully it will survive the three day journey back to Mondstadt where you can press it in between your favorite book so you can preserve it.

You bade goodbye to Verr Goldet, who (when you were leaving) noticed the flower and knew exactly where it came from. She didn’t tell you though since you didn’t ask but she smiled at the turn of events. When the famous traveler, the one looking for their sibling, went to Inazuma, Xiao seemed sad and knowing he was opening up to someone else made her happy.

You walked out of the inn, feeling better than you have when you arrived. 

Before leaving though, you turned your eyes at the inn and saw Xiao standing on the branches of the tree nestling on the inn. He was watching you, this time his eyes weren’t curious or menacing.

He was bidding you goodbye in his own quiet way.

You gave him a wave and a big smile, knowing it will be months before you return.

Xiao stayed in his spot before he left like a gust of wind and you took a deep breath before heading home.

[kosmosguk]

Lineage (M) | 4 | preview

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: ?

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings:  HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language, vomiting 

A/N: Last part of the main story! Only parts left are a special chapter and the epilogue... Ah...so sad that this story is nearly over. This story brought a lot more support for my account, so it feels really sad to part with it. Maybe I’ll write shorter side stories for it like webnovels do lol. Hope everyone is being safe and taking care of their health! <3 Ty for nearly 3.4K and send in any memes/moodboards for Lineage! The one I like the most will get early access to part 4. Keep an eye out for a spooky drabbles series for Halloween :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

The air was still cold, the kind of cold that heavily bore on your lungs and left you rattling like the only thing left of you was a decaying ivory skeleton. You supposed the cold made sense, even though it was spring and it shouldn’t have been so cold. Some part of you convinced yourself it was the norm even when droplets of icy water splashed onto your frail cheeks. Even when you closed the door behind you, you could feel the chill; even when an acrid taste built up in your throat, you could not stop shivering.

Why could you remember the look on Namjoon’s face? You closed your eyes. Go away, go away, go away. His face lingered even then, even more stark against the darkness of your closed lids, hollow, disappointed eyes and lips curled too rigidly, too unnaturally into a smile. You knew that look. You hated that look.

You could feel the pain in your chest, prickling, and that pain seemed to sink itself into your stomach. Why did it hurt? Why were you hurting?

10. 9. 8.

You counted in your mind softly as the nausea swelled up, like the disgustingly messy crescendo of an agonizing melody. Now, this was strange, wasn’t it? Your cold wasn’t supposed to be accompanied by such nausea. When you began to heave, bracing yourself against the frame of your bed, you heard a knock and then the door click open.

A maid stood out there, her eyes widening as if she could not fathom the sight of you. You clasped your hand around your mouth, tears building up in your eyes, and you choked on a heave. You heard her footsteps tapping frantically as she dashed to get a bucket, but you couldn’t hold in the prickling in your throat, the swirling in your stomach.  

Tears spilled out, dropping onto the ground, as you bent over and retched all over your nightgown and the carpet. Your vision blurred, spots dancing, and you sunk heavily into the moment of weakness.

When you came to, you were being encased in something warm. You didn’t smell anything rancid like what you had been expecting; instead, the soft pleasant scene of rose oil scented soap met your nose, and you exhaled a relieved sigh. Wait…rose wasn’t the only smell. You could smell a hint of wine and something muskier, though slightly sweet. The smell of it was so familiar. It couldn’t be? You peeked open an eye to look up to see your surroundings, and your mouth dropped open slightly.

“D-duke? My Lord. Why are you here? Why…How did I get here?’’ you sputtered, and you tried to push yourself out of his hold. His gaze, along with his hold, remained steady. He reached out slightly and gently trailed a finger down the curve of your cheek.

“I haven’t been able to visit you lately because of how busy I’ve been…If I had known you were feeling so ill, I would’ve been by your side. I’m so sorry,’’ his tone was remorseful. The Duke, who everyone believed had no bone of emotion in his body and who was notorious for never feeling remorse, was apologizing to you. His words seemed to wash out every agony you had experienced. You rapidly blinked away the hint of tears in your eyes and ducked your head shyly.

He caught your chin with a hand before you could hide your face and lifted it gently. You noticed the black circles imprinted into the skin under his eyes, the way his face was even more waxy and pale than usual. Every aggrievance you had despaired over while alone in that room faded; you missed him. You missed him so much. You wouldn’t have been stuck in your own head if he had been there to hold you…but he was here now.

That thought washed over you, and you wrapped your fingers around the hand that was under your chin. His hand was limp as you pushed it down to your thrumming heart. Your stomach fluttered as his fingertips traced your warm skin peeking out of the collar of your nightgown. You carefully held his hand there. You didn’t notice the brief flash of guilt on his face.

You didn’t say anything, your hand still firmly holding his, and you shuffled your body closer, closing your eyes. The scent of the two of you mixed together was pleasant, and although Yoongi’s touch was usually unnaturally cold, today he was so warm. Or maybe the warmth of you had seeped out and spread around the two of you. That was okay; you were warm enough for the both of you. You suddenly felt so tired, even though you had just slept.

“Yoongi…,’’ your voice was barely a mumble,’’ I’m tired. Stay with me?’’

He moved the hand in your grasp slightly, and you held on tightly even though you were half-asleep. He chuckled lowly.

“Don’t worry. Relax your hand. I’ll be here,’’ he spoke. You complied, and you felt his fingers wrap themselves around yours. The two of you laid there, a hand clasped with the other between your chests, and you took in the sensation of your husband with every deep inhale.

“I’ll always be here.”

Release Date: Sunday, November 8th 5PM PST

Reply with a 👑 to be tagged in the next part! 

[ereri-lost-and-found]

Hey guys, I’m looking for a fantasy fic with Necromancy Levi from the dangerous Ackerman Clan and Eren who’s got special Titan blood abilities and everyone’s pretty much after them. Eren’s been referred to as a key a lot of times and Hange’s a blood witch I think? Anyway it’s Top Levi bottom Eren and Eren ran away from Armin and Mikasa wanting to protect them etc. Levi takes him to a secure location where his squad is and they’re all there to help protect Eren. I’m pretty sure he has the ability to also transfer or increase someone’s magic and that’s why everyone wants him so bad, but can’t do that with anyone but Levi now or something. Also Mikasa hates Levi like a lot lol ah help me out plz!

Is this the fic you’re looking for?

An Auspicious Star by nekojita

(Rated E, 195,704 words, multichapter, complete)

In a world where people can wield magic, raise the dead and cast spells, Eren is on the run because of being a shifter, a rare ability coveted by many. What happens when he crosses paths with Levi, a necromancer of the infamous Ackerman line, also wanted for his magical talents? First part now complete, with added epilogue.

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter six: no one but you

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 5.6K

A/N: i sincerely hope you guys like the way this ends, it’s always so nerve-wracking to end a story! the epilogue to this story is posted as well and linked.  thank you to every single person who sent sweet messages of support it means the world to me.  SMUT WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f), unprotected sex (only in fiction y’all) and hoseok thirst.

of course, i cannot post this story without shouting out some of the most supportive, killer people on this site.  you guys truly mean the world to me @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @taetaewonderland​ @hobi-gif​

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*********************

There are perks to being the boss.

For Namjoon, it means calling the shots on the streets from his office in the sky.  Rarely does he leave the climate-controlled comfort of his pristine headquarters to get his hands dirty in the day-to-day business of the organization he runs.

Tonight, he’s making an exception.

Yoongi drives. Like a bat out of hell, as always.

It’s a thirty-minute ride from downtown Seoul to Incheon Port without traffic but Yoongi is on pace to finish it in just twenty.  Hoseok watches the lights on the expressway speed by from the backseat.  He tries hard to focus on the information Namjoon shares, the details he’ll need in order to ensure he doesn’t put himself or anyone else in danger tonight.  

But fuck, it’s so hard to concentrate with the taste of you still on his lips.  

He scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.  He forces himself to push the memory of your body in his hands and your skin in his mouth and your voice in his ear to the corner of his mind.  

Then he goes over the information again.

Namjoon wants to be in place at least ten minutes before the scheduled meet so he can figure out what’s going on before the Ssijog knows he’s there with his men.  

He wants guns to stay holstered unless he gives the signal.

He wants --

“You must have really scared the shit out of that guy, Jung,” Namjoon murmurs from the front seat.  Hoseok snaps back into focus to search for his boss’s reflection in the side mirror and finds Namjoon already looking at him. “He’s been blowing up his contact since last night, begging for personal protection.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” Hoseok shrugs.  “I certainly could have.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Namjoon agrees.  “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed to be outside of his apartment when his handler picked him up.  Here I was, under the impression you had the night off.”

Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just doing my job.”

There’s a twist to Namjoon’s mouth that Hoseok can’t read and it puts him on edge.  

“Well, I must thank you for your dedication to your job,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this assignment.”

Hoseok looks away from the mirror.  “Yeah, sure,” he says quietly.  

The car falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Yoongi clears his throat.  

“So anyway --” he announces loudly, “-- Jimin and Tae were able to track Kang’s texts through some internet bullshit they mess around with. Apparently dude flipped out after you left his place and wouldn’t let up until his handlers agreed to meet him tonight.”

“At Incheon Port?” Hoseok asks, glad for the redirect.  “That’s a hell of a drive for a chat.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Namjoon says under his breath.  

The car falls silent once again.

**********************

Mun Kiwoo has a reputation for being messy.

The man at the top sets the tone for the organization, and Mun is no exception.  His men are known for their brutality, his deals often go south, and by most accounts his syndicate is hanging on by a thread.

But it’s still hanging on.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi watch quietly from their vantage point behind a shipping container as Mun waits in the dark, cigarette in hand. He looks like an unmade bed -- shirt rumpled and half-tucked into his wrinkled dress pants.  He lights one cigarette off of another as he answers a series of calls on his cell.  

His agitation seems to rise each time it rings again.

Hoseok takes stock of the two guards Mun has at his side tonight.  They’re bulky men with huge arms and round bodies -- the kind of guys who look dangerous due to sheer size, but would be slow to respond in a physical fight.  Namjoon holds up two fingers to confirm they’re the only men with Mun and Hoseok nods.

Headlights bounce off the pavement after a few more minutes of waiting.

A black car pulls up close to the water’s edge and Mun Kiwoo ends his call just as he lights another cigarette.  

Kang Donghyuk is the first out of the car, followed closely by his Ssijog handler.  Kang is dragging his ass and even from a distance, Hoseok can make out the bandage over the side of his face.

Hope it hurts, motherfucker.

“Mr. Kang,” Mun Kiwoo’s voice is clear now, loud enough for all three men to hear.  “You have been rather insistent about this meeting. I’m a busy guy.  What do you want?”

All three men strain to listen to Donghyuk’s response, but it’s too muffled to catch.  Yoongi brings his hands to his throat to make a choking gesture.  Can’t hear shit, he mouths.  You choked him too hard.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mun laughs in response to whatever Kang has said.  “Not mine.”

Donghyuk gestures wildly as he tries to make his case, likely pleading for the protection of the Ssijog.   Mun Kiwoo looks unmoved.

“I’m not interested in causing any more trouble with the Gajog, Mr. Kang.  This entire situation has been a means to an end.  Stirring more shit with Kim Namjoon is not in my best interest.”

Namjoon signals to Yoongi and Hoseok that it’s time to move.  All three men step out from their cover behind the shipping container, hands in front of their bodies to demonstrate none are holding their weapons.

“Fucking hell,” Mun Kiwoo groans when he spots them.  “I don’t have time for this shit.”

His guards bow up at his side, both men reaching for their guns.  Mun has the good sense to raise a hand and stop them from pulling their firearms -- which keeps Yoongi and Hoseok from doing the same.  All of the men face off in silence for a moment, each side waiting to see if the other will do something to break the fragile peace.

Kang Donghyuk whines under his breath and Hoseok shoots a warning glare at him.  He drops his gaze to the ground and shuts his mouth.

“You say you don’t want trouble with me, Mun and yet --” Namjoon snarls, “-- you have this piece of shit working my sister. Explain.”

“You know how these rich boys are, Kim,” Mun chuckles.  “They develop a bad habit -- or in this idiot’s case, two -- and daddy’s money isn’t enough anymore.  They’re easy to buy.”

Donghyuk looks from Namjoon to Mun, panic in his wide eyes.

“They’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“So what?” Mun laughs.  He smiles wide to reveal a mouth like an abandoned graveyard, teeth broken and scattered.  “This guy thinks we’re friends,” he jeers, jerking a thumb in Donghyuk’s direction.  “He’s too stupid to figure out that he served a purpose and now he doesn’t anymore.  Simple as that.”  

Namjoon sucks in a breath with obvious irritation.

“I’m still waiting to hear what any of this shit has to do with my sister.”

“Ah, yes,” Mun says, stubbing out his cigarette and getting back to the task at hand. “Listen, I don’t have anything against your sister personally, okay? Lim Joowon is my son and I want him back.  He can’t spend the next 15 years behind bars. You understand that, right? Doing whatever it takes for your family?”

Namjoon utters a curse under his breath.

“I’ll give your sister some credit, though -- she’s tenacious.  I thought she’d give up after we took her digital files,” Mun admits.  “Instead she’s cost me a hell of a lot more money.  I’ve had to start cutting a lot more checks to ensure this shit goes away.”

“She’s not the type to roll over and play dead, Mun,” Namjoon growls through gritted teeth.  

“The pigheaded gene runs in the family, huh?” Mun grins. “Look, let me level with you Kim, man to man.  I don’t even need your sister at this point. I’ve paid enough people to fuck this case from the inside out.  But I won’t lie, she is my insurance.  If any of the higher-ups start asking questions about why this case fell apart -- who better to point the finger at than the sweet young prosecutor with the dirty family connections, hmm?”

Namjoon tenses, hand reaching for the gun at his side.  Yoongi stops him with a muttered warning.

“None of us give a fuck about what happens to your son, Mun,” Namjoon says. “What I have a problem with is you sending that piece of shit --” he points at the trembling Kang Donghyuk, “ -- into her fucking home. Invading her space.  You crossed a line.”

“You’re right,” Mun agrees lightly.  “It was rude. Uncalled for.  I’m gonna apologize for it right now.”

He pulls his pistol from his side and the sound of clinking metal bounces off the shipping containers as everyone pulls their guns.  Hoseok trains his pistol directly at the shaking Kang Donghyuk and silently prays for the chance to pull the trigger. Mun Kiwoo’s gun is pointed at Namjoon and Namjoon’s is pointed right back.

Then Mun’s face lights up with a bizarre smile. He swings the point of his pistol in the direction of Donghyuk and pulls the trigger twice.

Donghyuk sputters as he falls to the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchange looks.  

Namjoon stares at Mun incredulously.

“What?” Mun’s nonchalance is comical.  “You wanted to do that too, right?  Besides, that guy owes everyone in the city money. I promise you, his own mother won’t even miss him.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. “This guy is fucking nuts.”

Mun puts his pistol away and his men follow suit.  Namjoon signals for Yoongi and Hoseok to do the same.  

“Consider that a goodwill gesture,” Mun says breezily.  “An official apology from me, to you.  And please pass along my consideration to your sister.  Please assure her that none of this is personal.  But I will make sure my son stays out of prison.  And like it or not, she’s going to play some kind of role in that.”

Namjoon stares off into the water.

“I can’t control my sister, Mun.  She makes her own choices,” he says after a moment.  “But let me be clear, this is the first and last polite discourse we’re going to have about this situation.  I don’t want you, your goons or any --” he glances at the bleeding pile of Kang Donghyuk on the floor, “-- paid help going near her.  Not in her office, not in her home. Nowhere. Are we clear?”

Mun Kiwoo lights another cigarette and smiles wide, the space in his teeth prominent against the gleaming ember hanging from his mouth.  

“Crystal.”

On the way back to the car, Hoseok hears the heavy splash of Kang Donghyuk’s body hitting the water down below.

He shuts his eyes against the rush of pleasure he feels as he climbs into the backseat.

************************

YOU

Something isn’t right.

You stare at the empty seat across the conference table -- the one where Hyejin normally sits -- and something twists in your gut.  She’s out sick today.  You can’t even remember the last time she took a sick day.

All morning, you’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s no big deal.  That you’re working yourself up for nothing.

But Donghyuk is out today, too.  

Vaguely, you register the sound of your boss’s voice at the front of the room. Any minute now, you’ll be asked to brief the team on the status of your case, but you can’t think straight.  You can’t focus on anything but the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something is wrong.  

Your thoughts race back to last night, back to your brother taking his men away for business in the middle of the night.

Back to Hoseok.

You try not to think about what it felt like to have his warm body pressed against yours. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and spice. The way you unraveled the moment he touched you.  

Your phone pulses with an incoming text.

namjoon: i’ve asked jungkook to bring you to the office tonight after work [ 1:25 PM ]

namjoon: a lot to discuss [ 1:26 PM ]

Your brain grinds to a halt as you stare at the messages.

It’s like everything is wrong and everything is right, all at the same time.

“Miss. Kim?”

You look up to see your boss staring at you, one expectant eyebrow raised.  You take a deep breath, line up your papers and stand to take your place at the front of the room.

****************************

The sense of déjà vu that hits you as you make the long walk across your brother’s office is nearly overwhelming.  This is exactly how this entire mess began weeks ago -- with you summoned to see Namjoon after hours, with Yoongi and Hoseok flanking him on either side.

But there is one thing different about tonight.

When you briefly lock gazes with Hoseok as you make your way to Namjoon’s plush chair, there is a warmth behind his dark eyes you can see from a distance. It’s a complete contrast to the first time you ever saw him, when you thought you could freeze to death from the ice in his glare.

You look away before anyone can catch the flush working its way up your neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you brother begins evenly.  “I finally have some answers for you about what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m ready to hear them,” you exhale, taking a seat.  Your eyes drift over the papers strewn scattered across his desk.  

“We’ve learned that the reason the Ssijog want your case against Lim Joowon to fold is because Lim is Mun Kiwoo’s son.”

You raise a brow.

“That’s news to me.  I didn’t even know Mun Kiwoo had a son.”

“Neither did we,” Namjoon admits.  “Apparently this is his only son and the man he intends to pass control of the Ssijog down to.  So it makes sense that he’s so hell-bent on seeing this case fall apart.”

He picks one of the papers off his desk.

“This is the more problematic piece of the puzzle,” Namjoon says quietly.  Your chest tightens in response to the expression on his face. “Jimin and Taehyung tracked a Ssijog account making payouts.  Payouts to people in your office.”

He holds the piece of paper out to you.

“There are six names on that list.”

You take a deep breath before taking the sheet from his hands.  

Your eyes scan down the document, taking in the blows, one by one.  Two receptionists.  One paralegal.  

Lee Hyejin.  

Kang Donghyuk.  

Park Soo.

You say nothing as you stare at the list, taking in the names again.

Someone you called a friend.  Someone you’d allowed into your bed.  The boss you’d bent over backwards trying to impress.  You stare at the black-and-white evidence of betrayal in your hands, reading the words over and over -- expecting to feel sadness or rage or humiliation or something.  

Nothing comes.

“Give us a moment, would you please?”

Yoongi and Hoseok file out of the room quietly at Namjoon’s command.  The second the heavy door to the office clicks shut, he clears his throat.  “There is something else we need to discuss, Amsaja,” your brother continues quietly.  “Kang Donghyuk is dead.”

“Good.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide at the quick, calm delivery of your response.

You stand to walk to his sideboard to pour a drink.  You have no idea what’s inside the decanter, only that whatever it is promises a burn you want to feel right now. You pour a glass and take a sip, leaning against the heavy wooden piece.

“Did you kill him?”

“No. The Ssijog beat us to it,” Namjoon admits.  “But Hoseok paid Donghyuk a personal visit at home to convey our -- displeasure -- at his involvement in this mess. He damned near choked that man to death hours before Mun Kiwoo put two bullets in him.”

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay.”

The words Hoseok spoke in your kitchen surface in your mind.  

They’d sent a bolt of pleasure through you at the time -- triggering a kind of primitive response you’d be embarrassed to admit out loud.

And somehow that response pales in comparison to what you’re feeling right now.

A normal woman wouldn’t find satisfaction in the idea of Donghyuk cowering in fear inside his apartment.  A normal woman wouldn’t feel warmth spread through her entire body at the mental image of Hoseok wrapping his hands around Donghyuk’s throat.  You slip a finger under the collar of your blouse and search for your scar -- closing your eyes at the familiar feel of the raised skin.  

You remind yourself that you are not a normal woman.

“Hoseok uncovered Kang’s involvement with the Ssijog even before we found the payouts.”  Your brother pauses, a wry twist to his mouth as he continues.  “He can be a very determined man when something is important to him.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for just a beat too long after delivering that statement.  You look away and walk to his office window.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Amsaja,” you brother says.  You can hear the sound of him pouring his own drink behind you.  “Your silence has me concerned.”

You’re thinking about every time Hyejin feigned concern for you and tried to get you to open up. The days Donghyuk insisted he take you to lunch or to dinner when you insisted you were too swamped.  The bullshit little speech Park Soo gave you the night of the charity dinner about keeping Seoul from falling into the hands of criminals.

You’re thinking about what a joke they all are -- dressing up and looking down their noses at the criminal element they claim to despise.  Wearing their fake piety like a badge of honor and paying for their fine things with dirty money.  

You’re thinking that you’d rather choose a hundred street thugs over any one of their kind.  At least your brother has the balls to wear his sins on his sleeve.  

Namjoon joins you at the window, glass in hand.  

“What I’m thinking, Jaegyueo,” you say calmly, “Is that a lot of things are starting to make sense for me.  I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time.  So, thank you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your brother’s mouth and you return it.

You clink your glasses together in a toast.

***********************

You are two whiskeys deep when you leave Namjoon’s office.  

Hoseok is waiting in a chair in the hallway.  He stands to his feet when you appear from behind the heavy wooden door.  

You suck in a breath as you take him in -- the sharp beauty of his face and the soft curve of his mouth and the way his suit hugs the lines of his lean body.  You realize, with more than a little embarrassment, that you are staring.

“I’ve got the car warming downstairs,” Hoseok says carefully.  “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Yes. Hoseok, I --” you swallow thickly,  “-- I never apologized for what I said to you.  I didn’t mean those things. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok steps close and reaches one hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear.  You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch and inhaling his scent.

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” he murmurs.  “We can talk about that some other time.  Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You open your eyes to look up at him just as Yoongi rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

“Glad this isn’t awkward,” he mutters, before turning to walk back the same way he came.

**********************

The air in Hoseok’s car is thick with tension on the ride home.

You’ve stopped pretending to not stare, eyes fixed on Hoseok while his eyes stay glued to the road.  He guides the car through a sharp turn and you catch the way he winces as his hand grips the steering wheel.  

A throb of guilt hits you square in the chest.

“You’re hurt.”

“Nah,” Hoseok deflects quickly.  “Just a little sore.”

He won’t look at you.  Why won’t he look at you?

“Namjoon told me you nearly choked Donghyuk to death,” you say quietly, studying his face for any reaction. He slows the car to a stop at a red light and rubs his fingers across his mouth, stares out of his window.

“I wanted to kill him,” he admits.  He takes his aching hand off the steering wheel and flexes his fingers as if reliving the memory of that night. “I almost did.”

That embarrassing reaction flares inside of you again.  This time it slides down your back and pools low between your legs and you have to squeeze your thighs together in response.  You shiver as you remember the promises he made while pressing his body to yours.

“Tell me what you want. I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

You’ve never wanted anything as badly as you do Jung Hoseok right now.

*************************

You force yourself to wait for the elevator doors to shut.

The second they do, you crush your body and your mouth to Hoseok’s.  If you catch him off-guard, there’s no way to tell -- not with the way he immediately backs you into the elevator wall, slotting one knee between your thighs.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore,” he groans the words into the shell of your ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck.  “Just like no one gets to touch you anymore.  No one but me.”

The strangled sigh that escapes you is the closest thing Hoseok is going to get to a thank you right now.  You whimper in agreement, gasping when his fingers grip your ass to pull you flush against him.  The swollen outline of his cock brushes against your stomach and you shudder.

The elevator ride is too long and too short, all at the same time.  Hoseok backs you through the doors as soon as they open, fumbling in his pocket for the keys while you suck bruises into his throat.  By some miracle, he gets the door open and both of you through it in one piece.

“Fuck,” Hoseok swears as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding against his insistent cock.  He has to drag you both into the bedroom as you press against him like a dead weight, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as you both stumble into the bedroom.  You drop out of his grasp when the bed hits the back of your knees.

Hoseok stands back, chest heaving with exertion.

“I need you to hear you say it,” he pants.  “Please.”

You sit up straight on the edge of the bed and unbutton your blouse, slipping it off without hesitation.  “No one gets to touch me,” you breathe, reaching to unclasp your bra.  You toss it away.

“No one but you.”  

Hoseok’s eyes darken to near black.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and slowly pulls off his holster and gun, placing both carefully on top of your dresser.  Then he turns back, body looming over yours.  He cups your cheek with one large hand, looking down at you with such heat that your breath hitches in your chest.

You lean into his touch, fingertips grazing the contour of his cock beneath his suit pants.  

“You promised to give me anything I want,” you whisper, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He nods slowly, the rasp in his voice betraying the calm on his face.

“Anything.  Name it.”

“I want to take care of you,” you say, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants.  Your fingers work the buttons open, one by one.  “Let me.”

Hoseok exhales a heavy breath as you open his shirt and stroke your hands down his chest. You give yourself a moment to admire the lean strength of his body, fingers stroking over the metal tags that hang just above one dark, flat nipple.

His stomach tightens and his cock twitches in his pants when you tilt forward to press a soft kiss to the golden skin just above his belt.  You work it open with unsteady hands and his pants follow just a moment later.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, nuzzling the outline of his length with your cheek.  You push his boxers down his slim hips just enough to expose the head of his cock.  “I don’t want you to think about anything but this.”

Hoseok groans when you flick your tongue against him.  

His cock throbs under your fingertips through the fabric of his underwear when you dip down to tease the head with your mouth.  You lap at the salty moisture gathered at the swollen tip and his head drops back.

“Sweetheart, please --” he grits out, hands reaching for your hair.  He winds his fingers through the strands and jerks when you rake your teeth across the wet ridge under the head of his cock. “-- don’t tease me.”

Some other time you might play the delayed gratification game with him.  You might take hours to torture him and keep him dangling at the precipice of pleasure.  Tonight, though -- the only thing you want to do is make him come so hard he can’t see straight.

“I won’t,” you promise sweetly, pulling the rest of his thick length free from his boxers to wrap your warm fingers around him.  You flick your gaze up to appreciate the way his head is tipped back in pleasure, lips parted.

“Look at me,” you murmur, pumping him with languid strokes.

His eyes are glassy with arousal when he opens them to gaze down at you.  You make sure he’s watching as you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you draw your mouth across his length.  He gathers your hair in his hands so he can appreciate the unobstructed view of your private show.

“No one gets to touch you anymore,” you whisper.  You take him down as far as you can again, tongue dragging against the thick vein that runs the length of his cock.  You are panting when you pull off him, tongue running the seam of your lower lip as you catch your breath.

“No one but me.”

Hoseok’s dick jerks in your hand in response, hand tightening in your hair as you lick a long stripe up his shaft.  He chokes out a moan as you lick at the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, eyes fixed on his.

“No more,” he croaks.  

You pull your mouth away reluctantly, tongue swiping at the taste of him on your lips and the sight seems to set him off.  He grabs your face with both hands, groaning into your mouth as he claims it.

He pulls away, panting.

“Lie back,” he demands between breaths.  You comply without question.

Hoseok leans over you, arms braced on either side of your body as he drops his head down to take one nipple between his teeth.  Your hips jerk at the stimulation and you squirm underneath him, thighs slippery with your own excitement.  He laves at both nipples slowly, thoroughly, until they are aching and wet.  Then he trails a soft line of kisses back up to your ear.

“I want to taste what’s mine,” he whispers, and a pang of arousal hits you so hard you forget to breathe.  You lift your hips to help him pull your skirt away along with your soaked panties and he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation.

Hoseok nudges your legs apart with his hands, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.  His dark eyes are half-hooded with pleasure by the time he drapes your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans when you are fully spread open for him.  He drops a kiss on your mound and your body jolts at the sensation, every nerve ending standing at attention.  He moves lower, long fingers tracing the outline of your swollen cunt and you suck in a breath.  

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping one finger into your damp heat.  “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you choke out, hands gripping the sheets as his finger flexes inside of you.

“Only for you.”

Hoseok makes a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest before sealing his lips over your aching clit.  You shudder against his mouth when he pulls back to soothe you with the flat of his tongue.  “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined how you would taste,” Hoseok groans, licking deeply into your wetness.  “It doesn’t even come close.  Nothing comes close to this.”

“Hoseok --”  your hands come off of the sheets to grip into his hair, “-- Hoseok, please don’t stop.”

Your senses are so heightened that just the pressure of the heel of his hand against your cunt is making you crazy.  His finger crooks deep inside you, stroking against your swollen walls while his lips and teeth toy with your clit.  You whine at the stimulation, at the wet drag of his tongue that has you writhing beneath him.

“You’re close sweetheart, I can hear it,” Hoseok’s voice is ragged with arousal. “Let me hear you.  Come for me.”

You clutch his hair between your fingers, moaning brokenly as the heat between your legs simmers to a boil.

“Hoseok --”

“That’s it,” he praises you with dirty words spoken in the sweetest way. “Let me taste you. Let me hear you.”

Hoseok is prepared the moment you come apart.

He grasps your hips firmly in those large, warm hands of his -- tongue and lips persistent as the live wire inside you tightens and snaps. The force of your orgasm shakes your entire body and leaves you begging and breathless. Hoseok savors every drop of your release until your hips sink back into the mattress and you protest weakly against the threat of overstimulation.

The mattress dips under you as Hoseok joins you on the bed, lips swollen with use and mouth marked with your taste.  His head dips into the hollow of your neck, nipping gently at the skin, while his fingers skate over the soft skin of your stomach and thighs.  

You shiver in his hold, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of his body on yours.

“I want to watch you come like that every day,” Hoseok whispers into your ear.  “Only for me.”

“Only for you,” you agree in a whisper, finding your voice after what seems like ages.  

You slip one hand between you, fingers wrapping firmly around the rigid cock pressed against your stomach.  Hoseok groans when you tighten your hand around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feeling a pulse between your legs that seems to beat in time with the throb of his cock in your palm, “Fuck me please, I’m losing my mind.”

His hoarse chuckle sends a shiver up your spine as he moves to cover you completely with his body.  He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance and you tilt your hips up into his.  

“Please,” you plead again, lifting your head to brush your lips against his.  “Now.”

He sinks his cock into you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tight fit of your cunt around him.  The stretch inside of you is nearly too much -- you whimper when he bottoms out and he drops his forehead to yours.

“You okay? Am I hurting you?”

His entire body feels like a rubber band ready to snap -- coiled energy waiting to be released.  But he holds back the instinct to move until you nod your agreement.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, nudging his hips to move with your own.  You stroke your hands down the slick skin of his back.  “I’m so full right now.”

Hoseok swears under his breath as he tentatively rocks his hips against yours, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you.  You wrap your legs around him as the discomfort subsides and the only sensation that’s left is the pleasant pressure of his cock against your walls.

Hoseok’s hips move harder as your whimpers melt into moans.

“Dammit,” he swears, head dropping low between his shoulder blades.  “So tight and wet for me.  So perfect for me.”

You look up to take in the sight of his perfect face slack with pleasure, mouth parted and face flushed with exertion.  His dog tags hang from his neck, swaying as his hips begin to piston in earnest.  You pull on them to force his mouth close to yours.

“Only for you,” you whisper, “No one else.”

Hoseok’s steady rhythm stutters when you whisper those words into his mouth and press your lips to his.  His hips jerk wildly as his release races up his shaft.  He laces his fingers into yours, fucking you deep into the mattress in those final seconds as he loses all control to chasing his end.

He comes with your name on his lips.

************************

Hoseok breathes deeply into your hair as you stroke your fingers across the lean lines of his chest, fingers tracing the metal outline of his dog tags.  You lie together like that for a while, skin to skin.

Your thoughts are loud in the quiet.  

You’re used to the bitter sting of betrayal by now.  

Long before Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk or Park Soo ever sold you out for a check, your own father betrayed you for the bottle.  You of all people know too well that most people aren’t to be trusted.

But then Hoseok’s fingers drag lightly across your back and they bring you back to the here and now -- back to the promise he made to you tonight.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore.”

And you decide to trust just one more time.

************************

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope​ @mono-kookie@hauntedlilies @sugasaidbultaoreune @yeojaa @secret-alphabets @hodginss@parkjimin-persona​

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture & Brief Mention of Sex Trafficking

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen PT I & PT II. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

EIGHT: GOOD DAMAGE.

“So you got a mom or dad?” Gojo asks, wearing Geto’s denim jacket as he slurps on your goodies. 

The question is so random and hard-hitting that it makes you pause from eating the bowl of soup inspired by your mother’s recipe and made with ingredients given to you by the townspeople of Bull’s Creek. 

After seeing Benji’s former bandits off to prison and receiving the thanks of the townspeople, including Miwa, Momo, Mechamaru, and Kuskabe (who does so with a nod your way), you and the gunslinging duo left Bull’s Creek and got on the road. It was only when the sun began to set and twilight sett in that you all decided to take a rest for the night. 

At that point, you had entered the mountains and found a tiny alcove near a cave and a brush of bushes and trees whose branches serve as hangers for your and Geto’s soiled clothes from the creek. Above the cave is a hot spring bubbling with hot water while down below the rocky mountainside, a field of wildflowers and fireflies float up to meet you, lighting up the darkness the further the sun sets.

“Why don’t we rest tonight?” Geto suggested. “This will be a decent place, I think.” 

“And there’s a hot spring just above us!” Gojo excitedly said. “Ah, I could use a hot bath.” His stomach rumbles, evidently so by the sound that escapes his stomach. “And somethin’ to eat,” he sheepishly chuckled. 

You had already begun to shed your bags after tying Reneigh up with the duo’s horses up at the hot spring, letting them chomp on the wildflowers that sprout there. “Well, we’ve got all these goodies the townsfolk gave us,” you said, digging into the sack of food.

In total, the townspeople gave you two sacks: one of food and the other of fresh clothes. Between the three of you, you divided the coin you received and kept them for yourselves. 

You looked inside the sack, pulling out each item: “Bowls, plates, bread, butter, rice, oooh, chicken broth!” Your excitement grew, happy to see such goodies.

Geto kneeled beside you, smiling fondly at the ripe tomato and the head of broccoli he found. “And all kinds of fruits n’ veggies,” he hummed, pleased with the turnout. “This will last us the whole trip if we ration well.” 

Your hand touched something soft and you pulled out a whole raw chicken. Holding it up to the duo, you gaped at it. “Uh…anybody know how to cut a whole chicken?” Two began to laugh, mostly at your hilarious reaction. “Why? You cookin’ it?” Gojo joked. 

You thought about tossing the chicken at him but decided not to. “Well, we’ve gotta eat and nothin’ beats chicken soup and wild rice.” Geto looked at you, shocked. “Oh…I was gonna cook for us.” But Gojo is pleasantly surprised, hands on his slim hips. “What a change of heart, little miss! Ya must like us now.” 

You glared at him as you began to set up the steel pot for cooking. “Don’t push ya luck, boy,” you snapped. “You two can set up camp while I cook.” You stood up and hurried up the slanted, smooth rock to the hot spring to wash your hands, mostly to get away from them. “Ah, so you tryna do the easy work!” Gojo called out to you, but you didn’t answer. 

Once you finished, you busied yourself building a small fire using some loose twigs, branches, and one of Gojo’s matches before preparing to cook. You roasted the chicken first which Geto kindly sliced the chicken up for you using one of your pocket knives. You had to turn the spit periodically on the fire while chopping vegetables (carrots, peas, broccoli, corn), so it was a lot of running back and forth. 

But you didn’t mind. You love cooking. Fixing something to eat is the one time you feel normal. It’s what makes you feel close to the people you left behind in your childhood, including your old self. 

Once the chicken is done roasting, its skin golden brown and juicy, you slice in into strips. You then fill the pot up with hot water from the spring, boil it, and fix the rice until its fluffy and white. Finally, you pour the chicken broth into the pot with the rice, sliced vegetables, and chicken, stirring it with a big wooden spoon you found in Geto’s bag. 

Speaking of Geto, he and Gojo set up camp during your cooking session. They set up sleeping bags, yours included, and place a blanket underneath to keep the dirt out of them. They set their boots, hats, and jackets aside, separated from your things. It seemed that they gave you your own spot, allowing you privacy and space. You appreciated that. 

Once the soup was finished, you announced that dinner was done and stood in front of the pot when they came running with their wooden bowls. “Hold up!” you exclaimed, putting out a hand to stop them. “Y’all wash y’all hands?”

The two looked at each other cluelessly which gave you you’re answer. “Hurry up before it gets cold,” you said and they went scurrying up the hill like rabid dogs, making you giggle to yourself. 

Minutes later, they returned and helped themselves to the meal. You sat down on a log with your own bowl, stretching your legs out. The duo sat on either side of you in a circle, passing a bottle of Jack between the three of you and ripping off pieces of bread to dip in your soup.

Gojo was sloppy, slurping greedily at his meal and making you wonder about some naughty shit. “Mmm, shit!” he moaned. “This is the best soup and rice I’ve ever had in my life!” 

In contrast to his partner, Geto was neat, taking his time eating his meal and (once again) making you mind wander. “I agree,” he sighed. “You’re quite the cook, little miss. Truly gifted.” Both compliments made your stomach flip. “Thank you,” you softly say, barely above a whisper as you took a sip of the Jack. It let a burn in your throat that you eased with the warm, hearty soup. 

Then came the burning question: “So you got a mom or dad?” 

You sit here now, the soup just at your mouth. Gojo looks at you expectantly, still slurping down his bowl. “Satoru,” Geto firmly says and shakes his head. Gojo raises an eyebrow, not understanding that this is a hot button topic. 

“No, it’s fine,” you protest. I suppose it’s only fair to tell you since y’all have told me so much about your lives.” You lower your spoon into your bowl, the fire crackling in front of you. “I have a mom and dad, yes, but adopted. I never knew my birth dad, but my birth mom always told me he was a rollin’ stone.” You chuckle to yourself. “Guess that meant he was a playboy.” 

You nod at the simmering pot on the ire. “This is my adopted mom’s recipe.” Geto smiles fondly, taking a swig of Jack. “Well, now I can see who you got such a gift from. Is she a cook?” 

You shake your head. “Not professionally, no. She’s a schoolteacher. My adopted dad is a farmer.” Gojo hums thoughtfully, chomping on some bread. “Where’s your birth mother now?” he curiously asks. “Still in your hometown?” 

You don’t think twice about it. You don’t even hesitate. “She was murdered,” you blurt. The silence that follows after this is deafening. The duo stare at you as if you just told them you’re pregnant. Placing the bowl aside, you tu​​rn to the crackling fire, not wanting to look at them and see their pity. 

“I was a little girl when a bunch of outlaws invaded my town,” you explain to the flames. “They ransacked every store, destroyed every home, and killed nearly every single person…including my mom.” You can feel yourself going back to that time, your mother’s terrified eyes behind your eyelids when you blink. A hot rush of tears begins to build.

Sensing your discomfort, Geto steps in. “You don’t have to go on,” he soothingly says. But you shake your head. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” you argue, forcing the tears away. “I need to tell you why I hate outlaws so much. I need to tell you why I am the way I am.” 

You turn back to them, staring them in the eye. “But y’all are sure you wanna hear this?” you wryly joke. “I have to warn y’all that it’s quite long and tragic.”

And the two stare you right back in the face. “I thought we already established that we’re ones for long and tragic backstories, darlin’,” Gojo replies. “Take your time.” 

Geto passes you the bottle of Jack and you take a much-needed swig. “I was nine years old when they came,” you begin and the memories come flooding back like a tidal wave. 

********

The summer you turned ten years old was supposed to be a joyous one. 

It was supposed to be a day where you and your mother spent the day in your hometown of Pinewood, known for its farms and heavy population of flowers.

Your mom would usually wake you up with pancakes covered in strawberries and whipped cream (your favorite), presents, and then take you into town to the bakery, the library, the movies, the fruit orchard to pick peaches and plums, or any other place a young girl like you would love to visit for her special day. 

But that was further from the case. It was only two weeks until you turned ten that your home was destroyed and burned to the ground. 

Pinewood was once a small but humble town of a couple hundred people. Everyone knew each other and there was community. Adults looked after neighbors’ children late at night and pies were brought over to welcome newcomers to the town. Farmers, teachers, landscapers, florists, bakers and cooks, etc…you would find them all here, building their lives and careers. 

The autumns were crisp and the summers were warm. This particular summer night you remember you were asleep in your bed, the sound of buzzing cicadas having hummed you to sleep earlier. Your bedroom, pink, cozy, and girly, was still except for you–the sleeping girl in her pony PJs. But late into the night, you awakened, feeling compelled by something to do so. 

You sat up in bed and looked out the window. Your backyard of honeysuckle and your mom’s prized vegetable garden looked back at you. The sweet summer breeze blew your curtains around like pink wisps. You don’t know why you woke up. You usually can sleep through a tornado. But this time, you couldn’t. 

Something felt…wrong. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. And then you realized it: the cicadas had stopped singing.

A warm night that was usually filled with the buzzing song of the cicadas in the trees had ceased, leaving the night eerily quiet. Then, suddenly, your bedroom opened, and in rushed your mother. You were too deep in your sleep fog to see that she was frazzled and scared, still in her nightgown and slippers. 

“Mama?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing at your eye. “What’s going on?”

She came over and ripped the covers off of you. “Baby, get up,” she hurriedly said, pulling you out of bed by your arm. “C’mon, get your slippers on and follow me.” 

You stared at her, confused and still sleepy. “But, Mama–” 

“Stop it, Y/N!” she yelled. You are startled, confused, and afraid. Your mother had never yelled at you like this before. And then you saw her eyes: wild and scared like a cornered animal. It scared you.

“We need to go now,” she firmly said. “Now get on your slippers and let’s go.” This time, you didn’t argue or protest. You slipped on your slippers and took your mom’s hand. 

She squeezed it as she led you out of your bedroom and down the hallway, walking past the bathroom, kitchen, dining area, and laundry room. Your home was a ranch, so it was only one floor with the bedrooms located at the back. Your mom guided to the front door, but looked back at you beore she opened the door. “Follow me,” she instructed. “Don’t let go of my hand, understood?” She didn’t wait for you to answer. 

After unlocking the door, she yanked the door open. You still wish she hadn’t. Your town, once blossoming with businesses, cozy homes, and life was now burning.

Flames that exploded from buildings licked the night sky.

Crops were on fire.

Guns exploded in your eardrums that sounded like firecrackers.

People and animals alike ran for cover and safety.

People in black clothing and bandanas covering their mouths ran after them, hooting and hollering. Some of these intruders also ran in on horses, rifles and pistols drawn. 

You didn’t see any bodies, thank God, but it didn’t matter. The trauma was already set in your body from that very moment you and your mother stood outside of your home in the chaos. 

“Mama, what’s happening?!” you yelled, pulling on her hand. 

She then began to run with you, hurrying down the road. “I don’t know, baby,” she answered, “but we’ll be okay! Just don’t let go of me.” You didn’t, but someone did it for you. As you were running with your mom, you unfortunately didn’t get that far away from your house when you suddenly felt two arms snatch you away. 

You screamed, wriggling around in the stranger’s arms. Your mother looked back and rushed to help you, but she too was grabbed by another stranger in black and tossed to the ground.

“Mommy!” you squealed. You tried to struggle out of the arms binding you, but your mom’s assaulter took out a long-barreled pistol and pointed it at your mother’s temple. “Shut up, you little brat,” he snarled. “Keep that mouth shut or your ma gets it.” 

You immediately went quiet and the bandit behind you cackled. Despite his own bandana covering his mouth, you could smell the booze on his breath. You looked down at his hands around you. One of them had a rose tattoo on his knuckles. 

The bandit nodded at your ranch. “Nice house ya got here, bitch,” he chuckled. “Even nicer land. I bet ya got some pretty pennies for a pad like this, eh?” He crouched down beside your mother. She lied in the dirt on her side, her clothes ruined and her knee scraped by her fall. 

“No,” she whimpered. “My people are humblefolk. We don’t have much money and neither do I, especially with a child.” 

The bandit took a handful of her coiled hair in his fist, yanking her up. “So you callin’ me a liar?” he snarled. “I don’t like bitches who talk back, y’know.” He cocked his gun at her, but your mother was afraid like you were watching.

“I don’t have what y’all are lookin’ for!” she snapped. “Please just let us go!” 

The bandit tossed her down and shared a look with his partner. “If you don’t give us money then you’ll have to give us somethin’ else,” he growled at your mother. “How much you think her kid will cost, man?”

The bandit hugged you to him, making a show of caressing your face. “Mmm…'bout a couple hundred at least.” 

You shook in terror. What did they mean? Were they going to take you away from your mother? She seemed to know what they meant though and looked like she wanted to murder both bandits. “You wouldn’t do that,” she hissed. “You know damn well that the law is already out for y’all for this, so you’d only be sinkin’ your ship farther if you do anything to my daughter.” 

The bandit pressed the bun to her temple, laughing. “You think we give a fuck about the law, bitch?” he cackled, tossing his head back. “The law won’t ever find us and half of them are pussies anyway. The bossman is like the Boogeyman to them.” Your mother’s expression softened and she suddenly looked hopeless. That scared you even more. 

The bandit smirked and pressed the gun to her chin. “Now what should we do about that mouth of yours?” he whispered.

His partner chuckled suggestively. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he sniggered.

Despite the gun in her face, your mother turned her head to you, her eyes glassy but filled with acceptance. “Y/N, my little flower,” she tearfully said. “I love you.” 

Before you could even blink, she bit down on the bandit’s hand hard. Hard enough to draw blood. The bandit screamed as he pulled his hand away now coated in deep, bloody teethmark. 

“Oh, you bitch,” he spat. “Now you’ve pushed your luck.” He took her by her hair again and threw her down onto her stomach execution style. 

“Mama, no!” you wailed, reaching for her. She looked up at you, eyes wild and dirt caked to her face. “Run, Y/N!” she screamed. “Run until you reach the fields!” 

As your fight or flight kicked in, you elbowed the bandit behind you in the stomach, loosening his grip. Just as you turned to run, two shots ran out behind you. You never turned around to see if it was your mother. You just knew it was.

So you ran as you cried, your eyes blurred with salty tears and fear pumping in your blood. “Get that little bitch!” the bandit yelled, pointing at you. 

Hooves began to thud against the ground behind you, but you didn’t turn. You didn’t stop. You just ran, something pulling you along despite your fatigue. You still don’t know if it was God, your mother’s spirit, or just your will to live. Either way, it got you all the way down to the cornfields three minutes outside of your town. 

At this point, the sound of the bandits behind you faded, but you knew they would eventually gang up on you. Wheeled wooden carts sat beside the fields that usually were used to deliver food, flowers, and other deliveries into other towns. You chose quick and jumped into the back of one cart of flowers. You hid deep beneath the many plants, petals, and bulbs, keeping quiet. 

Even as you heard the horses and saw torches flash beneath the flowers, you held your breath and imagined yourself as but a rock. A head of corn. A flower like the ones surrounding you. 

“Where’d she go?” he gruffly asked. A light flashed in your face and you coveved your mouth. 

“I think I saw her go in here,” his partner said before they walked into the cornfields together. You didn’t move even as the light vanished.

Even as the rustling of the corn stalks got further away. Even when all you heard were the bandits’ horses chuffing to one another. You don’t know how long you had been there–minutes? Hours?–, but suddenly, you heard footsteps and hooves beside you and then the cart moved slightly as someone got in the front to drive off. And then the cart began to move, taking you away and into the unknown. 

‘The unknown’ turned out to be Elden Valley, a small town a two-day travel away from Pinewood. It is home to humble, quiet folk. Humble, quiet folk like Eren Tokiyami, an older farmer with salt-and-pepper hair and calloused hands, and his wife Yuri, a longtime baker.

Eren and Yuri ordered flowers and seeds specifically from your town’s florist to plant and decorate the outside of Yuri’s bakery with. Imagine their surprise to find a scared, dirty, and traumatized little girl lying beneath the bed of tulips and petunias. 

You found yourself in a barn smelling of manure and animals. Yuri covered her mouth while Eren stared down at you like he couldn’t believe you were real. “My God,” he gasped. “Where’d you come from, little one?”

You could barely speak. You hadn’t had water or food in two days. “P-Pinewood,” you whispered, and then everything went black when you passed out in Eren’s arms. 

After taking you to the town’s doctor and nursing you back to help, the couple adopted you as their own. The town of Elden Valley and all others in the county heard of the massacre of Pinewood. Dozens of people died, including your mother, but you didn’t any any detectives or coroners telling you that. 

For nine years, Eren and Yuri fed you, dressed you, and cared for you. But it wasn’t enough to thaw you. It wasn’t enough to melt the ice that had formed and hardened around your heart and soul. You had grown tough, taking your anger out on kids at school and constantly skipping to ride horses. It was when you turned sixteen that you met reneigh for the first time who was no more than a stubborn, violent horse that Eren recently saved from an abusive owner. 

You felt like she was just like you and maybe she did too, so she was always calm in your presence and became yours. Eren and Yuri thought that reneigh, along with some guidance and love, that you would be able to get back on track. You did for a little while. You baked pies with Yuri, planted crops with Eren, studied, and graduated school. 

Then, one day, you just left. It was a month after you graduated at age eighteen. You knew you couldn’t spend your life in Elden Valley, pretending that vengeance and bloodlust weren’t inside of you.

To do something constructive with that anger, you took one of Eren’s many guns that he taught you how to use and went out to the woods beyond his and Yuri’s house. In the blue of dawn, you set up an old glass bottle there and stood yards away from it. 

As Eren taught you, you kept still and calm, aimed, and shot. You missed. So you tried again. And again. And again. Every morning before your parents awakened, you went out to practice in secret. And every time you drew that gun and shot, you were better. Quicker. Sharper.

Then, one day, you finally it: you aimed and the bottle broke. You knew what you had to do from that very moment. 

So after a night of dinner with your parents and telling them how much you loved them, you waited until they went to sleep to pack, tossing everything you could into a bag. Including two of Eren’s pistols. You hid your identity behind a cowgirl hat and bandana, forever your disguise. 

Before you left, you wrote a letter to your parents, not wanting to leave them without any last words: 

Dear, Mama & Papa, 

I’m sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused you over the last nine years. I thank you both from the bottom of my heart for taking me in as your own. I’ll never forget your kindness. It is what is needed in such a cruel world.

Please don’t come looking for me and don’t worry about me. Just know that I’m fine. If I never see you again, I love you both endlessly. Thank you for giving me back my innocence.

Love, Y/N.

And like a thief in the night, you hopped on Reneigh and you were gone. And so the Fatale Femme was born.

You didn’t feel anything when you caught your first outlaw body…only more vengeance. It got stronger the more you killed. The more you fled. The more you pulled that trigger. You have been doing this for so long that you believed that this coldhearted tyrant is you now. For so long you thought you had lost yourself and only the Fatale Femme remained. 

But now, sitting here among two outlaws, feared and loved by many, you feel as if you’re finally getting yourself back. Geto and Gojo stare at you in the firelight, sadness in their eyes. You sit there, ravaged by your past and trembling.

“I never thanked y’all for savin’ my life today,” you say. “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I didn’t see that y’all are different from the others. I’m sorry that I didn’t want to acknowledge it.” 

Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, too hot and too quick to stop. The real you, outside of the bandana, the guns, and the cool exterior, has been released. “That’s why I do what I do,” you tearfully explain. “That’s why I am what I am. That’s why I need to find Benji.” 

Geto puts his gloved hand in yours, warm and comforting. “And we’ll help you,” he softly promises. “We had a deal, remember? We’re a team now, so do you ever go thinkin’ you’re alone in this.”

His brown eyes are firm but gentle, reminding you so much of Eren’s. “Thank you for sharin’ with us and I know you won’t believe me, but I know your parents are proud of you, includin’ your birth mother.” 

He offers a smile that seems to melt you. When Gojo gets up to move next to you, squeezing you between them, you feel like you’re about to turn into a puddle. You feel nothing but warmth that overwhelms you in the best possible way. It is foreign and weird, but good. Real good. 

Gojo’s blue eyes sparkle at you, as beautiful and as alluring as the fireflies that float amongst you. “Did I ever tell ya about the time I got my ass stuck on a bear trap?” he randomly asks. “Oh, or that one time Sugu got eaten up by leeches?”

Geto rolls his eyes as he puts his hair back into a long ponytail. “Damn, you tellin’ her that one?” he sighs. 

And that’s when you realize that the strange warmth you’re feeling is gratitude. You smile at Gojo and wipe your tears, knowing he would ask you to. “N-No,” you giggle through a sniffle. “I don’t believe you have.” 

For the rest of the night, you laugh, dance, and sing with the Gunslingers, letting go of your past and your trauma...at least for one night.

You swig whiskey and sing along with Geto's silky, velvety voice while Gojo claps the beat to songs.

You twirl in front of the fire with Gojo, laughing when he trips and nearly busts his ass.

You lay under the stars with them, pretending to fly away into the inky canvas of glittering lights with them.

But when sleep and alcohol finally catch up with you, you pass out on the ground, slipping into a warm, comfortable sleep. You don't even feel Geto and Gojo cover you with a blanket to help you be more comfortable. You don't feel either one of them gently kiss your forehead either, leaving shadows of warm goodnight kisses on your skin.

“The sweetest dreams, Y/N,” Geto coos. “We’ll try to have the same.” He stares down at you, liking how peaceful and serene you seem in your slumber.

When he looks up, Gojo is staring at him with those blue eyes that seem to see all. “You feel it too,” he says. He doesn't need to elaborate. Geto nods once. “Yeah,” he replies. 

Gojo sighs, sitting back on his haunches. “So we’re fucked.” 

Once again, Geto nods. “Yeah.”

And that's the end of the conversation...for now, at least.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.13 Kino [Track 1]

Original title: ひとさじの悪戯

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 13 Kino [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (00:00 ~ 15:27)

Seiyuu: Tomoaki Maeno

Translator’s note: I remember when I started translating More, More Blood, it was the first set of drama CDs released after I joined the franchise, so it was a pretty important project to me. I would have liked to finish translations for all 13 CDs before Daylight dropped, but I didn’t quite succeed at doing that. It’s just Kino’s and then Kanato’s left though! Unfortunately I haven’t been able to get my hands on the audio for the latter. > < Kino is still somewhat of a mystery to me, but I do think the plot of these CDs fit him the best out of all of the boys since he’s such a trickster at heart. I’m sure he’ll have a blast tormenting the MC with the time-manipulating powers of the hourglass.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 1: A Spoonful of Mischief

The scene starts at school.

“Aaah, shut up, shut up. School really is such a noisy place, isn’t it? All of those pesky humans are completely absorbed in their conversations”

Kino turns his head towards you.

“Before I started attending this academy, were you like that as well? Chatting with your friends and laughing out loud like absolute fools.”

You explain.

“Hmー I see. You wouldn’t have guessed that by your current behavior. Both in the classroom and in the hallway, you’re always glued to my side. Do you actually have friends?”

You tell him you have friends over at your own classroom.

“Ah! Right! This isn’t the sophomore’s classroom you belong in, but my classroom. I guess it makes sense you wouldn’t have any upperclassman friends you can just have a casual chat with.”

You puff out your cheeks, blaming him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I forced you to come here. ...But I had no other choice, did I? Class or whatever, it’s all just boring crap when you’re not around. I got tired of living in the Demon World and became a high school student, so now I have to make the best of it and enjoy it to the fullest! Which means you need to be there sitting next to me.”

*Rustle*

“Besides, it isn’t all bad, is it? You’re super lucky to be able to take the senior’s classes! If anything, you should express your gratitude towards me.”

You seem worried about getting into trouble with the school. 

“Ah, you’re worried about that? It’s fine. Nobody will complain. I’m the infamous mysterious transfer student after all. Leaving the students aside for now, even the teachers seem to be having a hard time calling me out. I’ll use this opportunity to do as I please.”

You slowly nod.

“Exactly. So you should enjoy your school life as well.”

You ask if he is having fun. 

“Me? Hmm~? Let’s see...All of the extra attention I get as a scholarship student is a little annoying, but I’ve never gotten to attend school before, so I guess you could say I’m enjoying it in my own way. I suppose it was worth coming here as a transfer student. ...Besides, I kind of like this uniform as well. It just screams that I’m special! Pretty nice, huh? I didn’t like looking the same as everyone else, so I added my own little spin to it. What do you think? Does it look good?”

You tell him it looks good.

“...I see. Well, that’s a given.”

*Ding・dongー Ding・dongー*

“...Oh. Next period is starting. Better start getting everything ready.”

You giggle.

“Haah...? Hey, why did you laugh just now?”

You note that he is becoming more and more student-like.

“What? You’re making fun of me, aren’t you? Anyone would get the hang of the student life after going through a few classes.”

The teacher enters the classroom.

“...Say, don’t you think you’ve become a little cheeky as of late? You haven’t been holding back ever since we became lovers.”

You seem skeptical, raising a brow.

“No, you have. I might have been spoiling you a little too much as of late, so perhaps it’s time I give you a severe punishment. ...Fufufu~ Now how should I punish you? I’ll give it some thought! ...Ah, right! That made me remember...!”

You tilt your head to the side.

“You know, the thing you asked earlier. Whether school life is fun or not. There’s a perfect proof that I’m enjoying every day to the fullest.”

You frown.

“Right now it’s still a secret. More importantly, don’t you think you should focus on the class? ...See? The teacher has started writing stuff down on the blackboard.”

You turn around and open your textbook.

*Flip*

“He seems to be writing down a bunch of dull nonsense again. Class really is boring. Especially this history one. I guess this is the one subject I just can’t enjoy regardless. I have zero interest in what humans accomplished in the past after all. On these occasions...Guess it’s already my time to shine.”

He taps your shoulder.

“...Hey, hey!”

You turn your head.

“This class is boring, so you should play with me.”

You tell him you can’t right now.

“But I’m bored! ...So let me suck your blood. Show me how you desperately endure it while suppressing your voice. Like you did during yesterday’s lecture. I’d love to see that expression again.”

You turn around again.

*Scribble scribble*

“...Ah. The cold shoulder, huh? Hey! Just forget about the blackboard and turn my way.”

*Scribble scribble*

“Hmm~ You’re still ignoring me...In that case, I’ll just do as I please. Right! Perhaps I should just make your voice slip and catch everyone’s attention? That might be fun~”

You flinch.

“Fufu~ You looked my way. Honestly, that idea might be way more fun. I’m sure you’d become the talk of the school for doing such a thing during class. I don’t mind either way...Which do you prefer? I’ll let you choose today.”

You protest.

“...Haah!? Hey! Stop fighting back! Are you trying to ruin my daily fun?”

You perk up your head.

“Ah! You finally what realized what i meant earlier? Yes, exactly! This is the ultimate proof that I’ve been enjoying every day to the fullest. I’m sure you understand how I feel, no? There is nothing more fun than sucking your blood during class. Seeing you frantically try to hide it, or your panicked expression whenever our cover is nearly blown...It’s a blessing to the eyes. Your desperate attempts at listening to the teacher while having your blood sucked aren’t a bad watch either. It’s hilarious to see you try and keep your act together while you’re enduring it. This is something I wouldn’t be able to do if I wasn’t attending school.”

*Rustle*

“...So, you understand now, don’t you? I’m out here enjoying my school life, so don’t ruin that, okay? Got it?”

You frown.

“Don’t hesitate. Come on, this way...I’ll be so nice to suck from your arm today so it won’t stand out.”

*Thud*

“Hurry up. Give me your arm already.”

*Rustle*

“I love it when you’re obedient.”

*Rustle*

“Your veins are shining through, I can see them well. Your sweet blood is flowing underneath here, isn’t it? Looks delicious...”

*Smooch*

“Fufufu...I’ve gotten thirsty. If you don’t want the others to find out, then you better hold back with all you’ve got?”

Kino bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Haah~ Delicious. ...Ah, you’re actually enduring it~ ...Say, your face is quite the sight right now. Your cheeks are flushed bright red. I can clearly tell you’ve worked up a sweat too. Your sweat smells sweet as well. Hey, you’re only making me less likely to be able to stop, you know? Guess that’s fine. I don’t need to hold myself back after all. ...I’m sure you’re aware, but you can easily endure this much. That would be dull, don’t you think? I guess I have no other choice...but to force some screams out of you!”

He bites you again, stronger this time.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Ah. Fufufu~ You finally let a shriek slip, didn’t you? ...Take a look around. Because of you, all the students in class have got their eyes on us.”

You look around.

“Ah-aaah~ I’m sure you won’t have it easy from tomorrow onwards. Everyone will talk about how you were doing suspicious things in class~ What will you do?”

You panic.

“...Say? You want me to do something about it?”

You ask if he can do that.

“Guess so. I might be able to fix this situation. I got my hands on a nifty little item yesterday.”

*Cling*

“This. Take a look.”

You raise a brow and ask if it is an hourglass.

“Correct. However, it isn’t just your average hourglass. When this red sand is flipped around and flows downwards, time turns back.”

You seem surprised.

“I guess just an explanation doesn’t do the trick, huh? Let’s put it to the test. ...Here I go!”

Kino turns the hourglass upside down.

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

*Ding・dongー Ding・dongー*

“...Oh. Next period is starting. Better start getting everything ready. ーー Sike! Fufufu~ See? I turned back time to when class was starting.”

The teacher enters the room again, leaving you baffled.

“I’m not lying. ...I hate lies after all. Take a look at the blackboard. It’s still completely blank. ...See? The teacher’s going to start writing on it now.”

*Scribble scribble*

“The bell rang as well and above all...Nobody is paying attention to us. That proves time has been turned back and the same events are repeating itself.”

You seem confused.

“How, you ask? ...Fine, I’ll teach you. It’s strange how I got my hands on this, no?”

*Thud*

“I obtained this hourglass by pure coincidence during my last short trip to the Demon World. There’s magical energy stored inside, so it can rewind time a couple of hours. On top of that, the user has has full control over the memories of those affected. There’s several ways to enjoy it, don’t you think?”

You tell Kino you can’t comprehend. 

“Hm? You don’t understand? This time, I kept only our memories intact when I rewinded time. To further proof my point, you recall what happened earlier, don’t you? However! The other students don’t. ...Want to confirm it? Try and tell me what we were doing earlier.”

You get flustered.

“Don’t be so embarrassed. Come on, hurry.”

You admit to having your blood sucked. 

“Exactly. So, who was sucking blood from your arm?”

You reply.

“Mmh, mmh~ Right. It was me. And? How did I feed off you? And what kind of sounds did you make? I need to confirm these things, so be honest, okay?”

You hesitantly answer.

“Fufu~ Yes, good job. I’m proud of you for being able to tell me so accurately. Well, there you have it. No matter how much you embarrass yourself in public, as long as we have this hourglass to our disposal, we can manipulate time and people’s memories freely. In game terms, we can load up our preferred save file. What do you think? Bet you’re surprised?”

You nod. 

“Makes sense! ...I doubt these kind of things exist in the human world. ...I got my hand on such an interesting gadget so using this bad boy...I’ll make sure to play with you plenty today”

Your eyes widen in surprise.

“You’re blown off your feet! ...Well then, now how to use this~?”

*Cling*

“I guess I found yet another way to enjoy my school life? Fufufu...~!”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Epilogue

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.7k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

The first couple of weeks following the incident that had taken my long-lost mother from me was misery in its purest form. Link and I didn’t speak, not even by phone, during that whole stretch of time. In fact, I could rarely bring myself to answer the phone at all. The memory was still too vivid, the wounds still too fresh.

He’d gotten off scot-free in the end as he’d been deemed to have acted in the defence of others—namely, of me. It wasn’t long before I learned of his plea, that if I hadn’t come along quietly, I would have suffered the same fate that he’d brought upon her, and they had believed him. How I felt about this was still something I was struggling to wrap my endlessly pounding head around.

As dark and deep as this seemingly bottomless pit of despair that I’d found myself plummeting down was, however, someone did eventually toss a rope down for me. The time I spent apart from Link gave me the opportunity to properly reconcile with those whom I myself had wronged: Auntie Purah and Paya. The former and I found comfort in our mutual grieving, and even as Paya had never really known my mother well enough to mourn her loss (though, arguably, it seemed no one had ever truly known her), she was more gracious and understanding than I or anyone else would have been, which only made me regret even more deeply my past transgressions toward her.

One day, during one of our continual conversations, she shifted to the topic of the Yiga leader’s executioner. How she could even think of him at a time like this was beyond me, but I digressed. I told her everything from start to finish. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to talk to anyone about it at length. As I spoke, she listened calmly and carefully. Despite what I’d have liked to believe, she had always been the more levelheaded one out of the two of us, save for when it came to discussing things about herself.

By the time I finished, I’d begun bouncing my still healing ankle back and forth, which I’d crossed over my other leg to keep it from touching the ground. I didn’t stop even after I noticed what I was doing.

“It’s painfully clear to see how conflicted you are about all this.” Coming to sit beside me on the sofa in the Sheikahs’ sitting room, Paya placed an affectionate palm on my thigh, bringing its restless jittering to a halt. “I understand how hard this must be for you. But the way I see it, there’s only one question you need ask yourself at the end of the day.”

Whatever she was about to say, it wouldn’t be an easy pill to swallow, would it? I straightened my posture. “And what would that be?”

“Between the two of them, who do you think was the better person?”

She was looking me dead in the eyes, her hand still resting upon my leg. I uncrossed them.

I’d never thought to compare the two before. What reason would I have had to do so? But now that she’d mentioned it, I hadn’t realized how few memories I even had left of my mother, and the ones that remained were blurry and vague beyond any hope of being recovered. If only she hadn’t left me with the Sheikahs all those years ago, maybe I could have remembered more clearly what kind of person she had been.

On the other hand, Link had always been there for me. Even during the times when circumstances had driven us apart, the thought of him was what had kept my flame burning strong and hot throughout each arctic day, and what had protected me from myself, keeping me from doing the irreparable. He had stayed by my side to the bitter end.

No matter how I’d reflected back on that day previously, the sight of his steely, focused stare and the sound of his crazed breaths, short and sharp, had been ever dominant. But now, I recalled the way those eyes had then glazed over with unadulterated horror. How his arms had shivered as they’d clung to my broken form and how they’d continue to cling for what would feel like millennia until the rest of his unit would finally stumble upon the scene.

My stepsister-of-sorts gave my leg a soft squeeze as I looked back at her with a tremor in my lip. “He s...saved me,” I whimpered. “Didn’t he?”

After a month apart, I made plans with Link for a night out on the pier, where we would celebrate the end of the Organization. The ice cream I’d promised him was at the top of my list of priorities for the evening. Tonight was a dessert-first night anyway, I’d decided. From there, we went and found ourselves a bite to eat at a seafood restaurant within walking distance. I’d hoped eating with him would feel like old times, but he hardly spoke a word throughout the whole meal. I tried lightening the mood with some banter, but this proved ineffective when he brushed off everything I said with mere one or two-word replies.

It wasn’t until I’d gotten us both a bit of something to drink that he finally broke the silence. “Have you...” he started, but lost the confidence to continue.

I perked up at the sound of his voice, wanting to hear more of it. “Have I...?”

“A-Ah...” His fingers poked at the copious amount of chips piled onto his plate next to the practically untouched fillet of fried fish. “I was just wondering if you’ve thought about what you’re going to do now, since...you know...you’re not a detective anymore.”

“Ah, right. That.” I took another sip of my drink, its contents long having fled my memory. “Actually, my auntie talked about it with me and she said she’d consider letting me inherit the company once I’ve acquired the proper education. So to answer your question, I’m thinking about going to school for engineering.”

His brows rose. “Oh! My, that’s—” He cleared his throat. “That’s brilliant. I’m happy for you.”

I thanked him with a hesitant grin, then asked, “How about you? Do you plan to stay on with the force, or...?”

“Ahh, well...” What little there’d been of an upward turn in his lips vanished. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. It’s something I’ve been mulling over for a while now. Whether to stay on and honour my father’s work, or...whatever other options are available, I suppose.”

“Do you want to hear what I think?” He raised his head. “I think you should do whatever you think would make you happiest. That’s what you’re father would have wanted, I’m sure.”

This finally, finally, got a real, unsubdued smile out of him. And I intended to milk that smile for all it was worth.

After dinner, I dragged him back down to the arcade on the pier, where I managed to ring a few laughs out of him while we were still a bit tipsy. We steered clear of the toy gun target-type games, favouring other stands like the ring toss where he won me a plush frog that I could only just get my arms all the way around. His aim was spectacular, especially for someone who wasn’t entirely sober. Not only that, but I could never have imagined how sweet and charming he would be like this. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though we’d gone back in time again. That, or the light from the setting sun was playing tricks on me.

But by the end of the evening, he’d reverted back to that quiet, reclusive version of himself that I’d quickly grown to detest. We were out on the docks now, facing the sea. The breeze carried a mist of saltwater within its bows. I breathed it in, soaking up the feeling of it hitting me softly and coolly in the face. A hint of pink in my partner’s cheeks caught my eye, and I wondered whether it was the cocktails or my arms, which were currently wound about his waist from behind.

“Beautiful sunset,” I tried, hoping I could get him to spare me a glance at least. “Isn’t it?” But to no avail. He only continued to gaze westward at the rippling flames reflected in the water. “Hey...” Before I knew what I was doing, my palm had found the warmth of his cheek, and there was hardly an inch or two of distance between the tips of our noses. Without giving myself time to think, I tilted my head, leaned in, and started to close my eyes.

But when I realized he wasn’t doing the same, I halted. On the contrary, he’d been leaning back and away from my advances, his back so rigid and shoulders so stiff it were as though he would sprout wings and bolt were I to make any sudden moves.

“What’s wrong?”

A harsh, jagged exhale. “Zelda, I just can’t—” He grabbed both my wrists and wrenched my arms off of him. “I’m sorry. We can’t do this.” He was bent over the railing, arms folded in on each other. “Not now,” he said, dwindling, “after I’ve gone and...murdered your only family.” A weary chuckle shook him by the shoulders before he raked his hands through his wind-tousled hair.

I fell into quiet thought for a moment. Then, taking a long, thorough breath, I placed a feather-light set of fingertips atop his own. “That woman was never my family.” I’d made up my mind. Figuratively or otherwise, my real mother had moved on a long time ago. And it was time I did the same.

Link must have seen the resolve in my eyes or heard it in my voice, because now he was looking back at me openly, his body turned to face me. Though there was still an air of uncertainty lingering about him as he ran the crease of his cuff between his fingers again and again. But when I brought my arms around him and held him close, he sank into my lips, returning my embrace at long last. A lone pair of tears fell from my eyes the moment they fluttered closed—a culmination of all past ordeals—and as they fell, I couldn’t help but smile.

[daemour]

Pairing: None

Warnings: Mentions of murder and death

Genre: DUDE I HAVE NO IDEA HELP

Summary: The game is almost over, but how will it turn up?

Word Count: 927

Also for the tipsy drabbles!! just one more epilogue to go!

Jaebeom smiled politely at the people milling around him. The gala was boring as hell but it was important for him to be there. After all, this was where the infamous Mr Wang would be the perfect target. So many things have gone wrong during their job, and this was the last chance both Mark and Jaebeom have.

When the Police Chief Jinyoung had approached the two young assassins for a hush-hush mission, Jaebeom didn’t know whether to trust him. But the money was good and the promise of a favour was better, and here they were to kill Mr Wang.

Jaebeom zeros in on his target, who is currently talking to some investors with a young lady attached to his side. Jaebeom’s eyes scan over the young lady, taking note of Mr Wang’s hand around her waist. A significant other, then.

She looks slightly familiar, Jaebeom can’t help but notice. The slope of her nose, the way she holds herself...and then it hits Jaebeom. This is the sister of the murdered woman, the woman Officer Yugyeom had spent the night with undercover. The poor boy had to take a long vacation after that, so in shock and distraught. Jaebeom narrows his eyes and starts moving.

He knows this is a dangerous play, Mark frantically trying to make his way to Jaebeom from across the open room, but Jaebeom just wants this job over, and if a big ruckus is caused, let it be so. “Mr Wang.” Jaebeom stops in front of the target, gently shouldering the investors aside. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. Who might you be?” Mr Wang’s smile is calculating, the way it should be, the way Jaebeom expected.

“I’m Lim Jaebeom, Mr Choi had offered me an invitation.” Just enough truth to seem unassuming, Jaebeom had called on a favour from Youngjae and weaseled two invitations out of the young man for him and Mark.

Mr Wang brightens up at that, but his eyes are still hard. “Ah, Youngjae, such a shame what happened at the last ball. I heard he’s still in the hospital and his wife and child are on their own right now. I should drop in on them soon. How did you meet Youngjae?”

Jaebeom smiles and practices his well-rehearsed lie. “We met while I was looking for a place to stay and we just hit it off, I guess.” A hint of truth mixed in there, Jaebeom had slept on Youngjae’s couch once when he was drunk off his head and neither of them knew who each other was.

Jackson’s eyes don’t change and Jaebeom knows the topic must shift. “This is a lovely party, Mr Wang.”

“Please, call me Jackson.” Mr Wang’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you, my fiancée organised the whole thing. She’s very talented.”

Jaebeom inclines his head towards the young woman. Her eyes are cast to the side as her hand grips Jackson’s. “Congratulations on your engagement,” Jaebeom offers, and she just nods quickly.

“Apologies, she has received news that her sister had died not a week ago.” Jaebeom frowns in true emotion, though he is glad that the information willingly offered up confirms his suspicions.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss…” The girl doesn’t give him the decency to respond, which doesn’t help Jaebeom’s search for information but is understandable. Instead, she just shifts away and finally lets go of Jackson. She wanders away and Jaebeom can only hope Mark has the right mind to take her aside because things are about to get messy.

Mr Wang’s smile doesn’t falter, however. “Mr Lim—can I call you Jaebeom?—Jaebeom, I think we should talk somewhere more private.” Jaebeom knows that somehow, Mr Wang has been tipped off, but the only thing he can do is follow as Mr Wang turns and leads him through hallways.

They finally enter a library, with shelves taller than Jaebeom would’ve thought, and a single desk pushed against the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Now, Jaebeom,” Mr Wang spits out the name like it disgusts him, “don’t think I don’t see through your charade. I’ve hired my fair share of assassins, and I am not stupid to recognise one. In fact, I had almost considered you to be the one I hired.”

The way he is only using singular pronouns gives Jaebeom hope that Mr Wang doesn’t know about Mark. Because while they always take jobs separately, they work together behind the scenes. “Let’s cut to the chase then,” Jaebeom says quietly, “I’m here to kill you.”

Mr Wang laughs hollowly. “You still think I’m that dumb, huh? Of course you are,” he proclaims, opening up his arms wide. “And I’m going to let you. See, I know the police have almost figured out that I was behind my fiancée’s sister’s death. And my love just won’t like that, now would she? But I do want to know who hired you. Because I know you, Jaebeom. You don’t kill if you haven’t been hired. And I know who my enemies are. I want to have some closure.”

This is something Jaebeom had heard from many of his informants. That Mr Wang appeals to the emotions to get what he wants. And Jaebeom had steeled himself for the possibility. But something in Mr Wang’s voice gives him pause, and that’s his mistake. Mr Wang dives for his desk and Jaebeom moves slightly too late before firing off a round from the gun he had hidden in his jacket.

The game is coming to a close.

[thewayshedreamed]

This Time— Part 7

Fic Masterlist

As promised, here’s Part 7– complete with max Nessian. I haven’t decided if there will be one more long chapter, or if there will be one more + an epilogue, but we’re nearing the end for these two dumb dumbs 😂 I’ll warn you that there’s definitely some angst, but I hope that I make up for it.

Warnings for language.

——————————————————————————

She loosed a breath, puffing her cheeks with air and exhaling slowly. Just before she peeled her head from the headrest to get out, his front door opened. He opened it most of the way, then leaned against the door jamb on his shoulder. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweats and one of his ankles crossed casually over the other. For a moment, she only looked at him, unable to move or offer any type of acknowledgement. She took in the charcoal Henley he was wearing, unbuttoned save for the last one. The small flap of the opening leaned to the side, revealing the base of his neck and the beginning of his tattoos. He looked so very Cassian, casual and laid-back, that she struggled to keep her emotions level at the mere sight of him. His hair was down, looking like he had just run his fingers through it with its deep part and how it fell haphazardly around his face. He was wearing his reading glasses, she noticed, the thick frames highlighting the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the wide set of his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, and cocked his head to the side and back in invitation. She could almost here him tell her to “get in here”.

Too late to turn back now.

——————————————————————————

She got out of the car and travelled up the short walkway to his door. He moved to stand to the side, ushering her into the entryway without a word. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. His voice was soft when he spoke.

“I saw you from the window when you pulled up. Hope I didn’t rush you.”

“Hmm. No. I wasn’t 100% sure I was going to knock anyway, so it’s probably best that you went out.” He tensed at her words. She offered a small smile, feeling oddly compelled to comfort him.

The whole reason you’re here is because you’re mad, Nesta. Focus.

”Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Whiskey?” He huffed a small laugh at his last suggestion.

”Tea would be great, actually. I’ll come sit at the island,” she replied.

He walked past her, hands still firmly in his pockets. She followed him to the kitchen, situated herself on a barstool, and watched him prepare the things he needed. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, until the tension became a little too much.

“Have you decided if you’re going to tell me why you’re here?” His eyes were focused on what he was doing; never looking up at her as he spoke.

“Yeah. I think we have some things to talk about.” She watched his shoulders raise slightly before he put the kettle on the stove and turned around.

“Like?” He leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms across his chest.

”Us. Whatever we are, anymore. And boundaries.” She couldn’t look at him, so she opted to look down at her hands as she picked her cuticles.

He was quiet for a moment, and when she finally looked at him, the look on his face gave her pause. His expression was severe, his jaw tense and eyes narrowed.

“I think you made it perfectly clear what we are not, Nesta. If you came here to twist the knife, I’d like to opt out of this conversation.” He turned his back to her, busying himself by looking for the right mugs to pull from the cabinet.

“That’s not why I came!” she snapped. She lowered her face into her hands, willing herself to take deep breaths and stay calm. “I just... I know what we’re not. I do. But it’s hard to reconcile with how you act sometimes.”

”Which is?” His voice was strained, his patience waning.

“Like nothing has changed. Elain’s birthday— by the bathroom. The parking lot. Texting me today, and on top of th—“ He cut her off, much to her frustration, but she restrained her temper. This conversation was delicate enough, but she couldn’t keep from narrowing her gaze in his direction.

”I didn’t want this. You did,” he sneered. “Have you considered that it’ll take time for me to figure this shit out?” He pulled his chosen mugs out roughly, held them to his chest, and used his other hand to shut the cabinet door firmly. His voice was rough and slightly raised. Since it seemed he was determined to escalate anyway, she decided to jump ahead.

“So how is Alis then? Does she know how much time you need to ‘figure shit out’ with me?” she taunted coldly.

Apparently, the timing of her question couldn’t have been worse. Cassian’s entire body went taut as he was shifting the mugs to set them both down on the counter. He put them down with such force that it startled her, even though she was staring directly at him.

“What the fuck does it matter to you, Nesta? Huh?!” The mug in his right hand had broken on impact, but he didn’t seem to noticed as he whirled around. “She has nothing to do with our little shit show, so leave her the fuck out of it,“ he spat. His infamous temper was flaring now, and she knew he wouldn’t be backing down. He turned to see the broken mug, muttering a low “Fuck” and proceeded to sweep the broken pieces into his hands to throw away.

She blinked a couple of times, caught off guard by him immediately jumping to Alis’ defense. It’s not that she didn’t expect any loyalty at all, but the pain that followed is what threw her.

“Clearly, talking to you was a bad idea. I was hoping we could have an adult conversation!” she yelled.

He lowered his voice a fraction, but the venom in his tone remained. “Let me ask you something. How many godsdamned times do I have to take your bullshit on the chin before my reactions are justified? Why do you get to cling to your anger, make me the bad guy, and keep coming back for more? Your hands aren’t as clean as you’d like to think, sweetheart. Don’t fucking do this with me.”

She stood at that, grabbed her keys, and walked toward the door. She heard him laugh sarcastically from where he stood, and she was fully prepared to ignore him until he opened his mouth.

“There she is, walking away again. At least your predictability is comforting.”

She stilled, her entire body tensing. She turned around so quickly, launching herself toward him before she ever gave herself a chance to think better of it.

“You arrogant, self-righteous, son of a bitch!” She was pushing at his chest, and the fact that he barely moved at all had her seeing red. She started slapping at his chest between pushes and even went as far as to brace her hands on his chest, lunge, and use all of her force to move him backward. Her feet only slid back on the floor, while he lost no ground. “You giant, pretentious, pain in the—“

He gripped her wrists against his chest, transferred them to one hand, and used his other hand to cup her jaw. His grip was surprisingly gentle compared to the anger that flared in his eyes. She blew a breath through her bottom lip to get the stray hair out of her face and glared right back at him.

“Enough of all that.” He paused, studying her face before he continued. “Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” His voice was low, and although she knew he was being quite literal, she couldn’t fight the warmth that pooled within her at his words.

She swallowed heavily and closed her eyes before saying, “I have an idea.”

He squeezed her wrists gently then, almost as if he was considering if it was safe to let them go. She opened her eyes at that and was surprised to find that she had leaned into him while her eyes were closed. Their noses were almost brushing, and as much as she longed to close the distance between them, she remembered her reasons for being here. She fixed her gaze on his eyes, remarking how much more prominent the gold flecks became when he was mad. When he met her stare, they softened slightly before flicking down to her mouth. He didn’t try to conceal it and instead opted to pull his hand back just enough to run his thumb over her bottom lip. He repeated the action across her Cupid’s bow before moving to cup her cheek.

The kettle’s whistle caused both of them to jump back slightly, disoriented by the fact that the world had indeed continued during those moments. He dropped her wrists from his chest, and a pained expression passed across her features.

“You’re the one that asked for tea, sweetheart,” he said, as he lowered his hand and smirked at her. “Plus, we have some talking to do, remember?” He touched her palm with his index finger to prompt her to follow him back into the kitchen. She followed and sat back in her previous spot at the island, as he passed the mug to her. He decided against getting another mug out for himself and leaned his hip on the corner of the island.

Nesta didn’t even know where to start. There were so many ways she could approach this, all leading to the same point, but she felt like that point needed context. Nothing about the time passed seemed linear to her, and she was struggling with how to best present herself. She stared down into her mug, bobbing her tea bag through the water to busy her hands.

“So, what is all this about Alis? How do you know about her?” he asked, tone matter of fact. She wasn’t sure if he’d opted to speak first out of impatience or if he was bailing her out as usual, but either way, she was grateful for a starting point.

A crease formed between her brows as she placed her tea bag on a napkin, her eyes never leaving the mug as she spoke. “The night of Elain’s birthday, at Rita’s. I sent you a text, and somehow you pocket dialed me a little while later. I heard your conversation. Maybe I should have hung the phone up sooner, because it obviously wasn’t intended for me, but it all happened really fast. I heard you making plans to meet up later that week, and then I hung up.”

”Ah. I see.”

”Not that it should matter how I know. The fact remains that you seemed awfully interested in talking to me that night, and not even a couple hours later, asking her out. It’s insulting. To both of us.”

He smirked at that, and she had to resist the urge to throttle him for it. “Is that jealousy, Nes? It’s not becoming.” Her eyes snapped up to his at his comment; boldly throwing her own words at her from that night at Rita’s. Just like that, she was seeing red all over again.

“You’re such a bastard, Cassian. Even if it was, it doesn’t change the point. You can’t date her and send sentimental texts to me on my mother’s death anniversary, it’s not fair! How do you think that makes me feel?!” She felt tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, and she quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He leaned forward onto his forearms, meeting her at eye level. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I won’t pretend I’m an expert at reading your emotions because I’ve been very wrong before. How do you feel?”

”It really doesn’t matter. It was never right for me to come here and try to force a conversation with someone else’s... whatever you two are. It’s inappropriate.” Just like that, her mind was changed. She didn’t have it in her to do this, and she wanted to hold it together long enough to leave with a little dignity. Her tears betrayed her by streaming down her face, and she whisked them away quickly with her hands.

He grasped one of her hands with both of his, wiping the tears from it and holding it between his palms. His fingers skimmed over her wrist, and she couldn’t help but look at him. He looked pained, an earnesty in his eyes that she couldn’t ignore.

“Nesta, I’m not dating Alis. I’m not dating anyone, for that matter. Alis is a friend of mine who helps me out from time to time. She’s a florist at Spring Floral Cart, and we’ve worked together over the years for different things.”

It took her a moment to process his words before realization dawned on her. A florist. She was a florist, and he had flowers sent to her mother’s grave. Then what had she overheard? Thinking back on it, they never mentioned dinner, drinks, anything. Had she invented this whole thing?

“She did my mother’s flowers.” Not a question.

His eyes widened at her words. “How do you know about Christine’s flowers?” His voice was so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

“Rhys. He mentioned it at dinner—“

”Fuck, Rhys.” He dropped his head forward in frustration.

”Let me finish. He wasn’t trying to out you specifically, he just assumed at least one of us knew. Once he realized we didn’t, he couldn’t exactly lie or pretend he didn’t know either. It was obvious that he did.” She paused, but once she realized he wasn’t going to respond, she used her free hand to raise his face back up to look at her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that? Why hide it? I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you would do that for her.” Her voice was just as quiet now, the air thick with emotion all around them.

Here she was, doing another 180 and deciding she needed to stay. She was getting whiplash from the extremes she was experiencing, all rapid fire. She stood, taking her hand from him, and circled the island to stand next to him. She pulled his bicep to encourage him to stand to his full height and look at her. He stood, but he kept his eyes locked on the countertop as he answered her.

“I never wanted it to seem like I had certain motives. I don’t know. I did it for her; not any recognition, not for praise. I knew how much she loved having fresh flowers around the house, and I didn’t want her to never have them again.” He was playing with the corner of her napkin, and she grasped his hand as he had done with hers just minutes ago. She had tears in her eyes yet again, but she did nothing to keep them hidden now. It seemed so stupid and pointless. “I think I knew deep down how I felt about you, and I never wanted you to think I was trying to win your favor in some cheap way; like I was using your mom as a way to get you to fall for me. It makes me sick to even say that out loud. I felt like if you knew, you would question my motives once you learned how I felt. And I think to some degree, I was scared I would discount your feelings for me even if they were returned... like they were just the product of some grand gesture during a rough time. Chalk it up to my daddy issues, I guess.” He chuckled softly before lifting his eyes to hers. He noted her tears, and his brows immediately came together in concern.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, Archie. I’m okay. We’re okay.” He held her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. She crumpled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his sternum. He brought his arms around her and rested his hands on her lower back. She was quiet for several minutes before she mastered herself enough to speak.

”Gods, you couldn’t be more wrong, Cass.”

She leaned back to look at him. He cocked his head in confusion, willing her to continue. “I’m not okay. We’re not okay. Not like this. But knowing this doesn’t discount anything I feel for you. It doesn’t make me question your intentions. You forget that I know your heart and your character, and I know this is just who you are. And I was in love with you before I knew any of this, anyway. I was in love with you weeks ago when I was too scared to admit it to myself.”

She gripped his shirt at his shoulders as she forced herself to voice all these terrifying things she’d felt. After all they had been through together, he deserved to hear all of it from her. She needed him to know he was loved, even if she’d exhausted his good favor. She needed him to know he hadn’t misread her; that he hadn’t thrown his love into some void all these years.

“I loved you before she passed; loved you years before, even. I’ve loved you as far back as I can remember.”

Cassian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as she spoke. He removed his glasses as he lowered his brow to hers and brought one of his hands up to cup the side of her neck. His thumb rubbed her jawbone gently.

”Nesta, I—“

”Wait. If I don’t finish, I’ll lose my nerve. Shit, I’m so terrible at this.” She huffed a small laugh, and he joined her, still with his eyes closed. “I think I was so afraid to need you. Because before, I always dated someone who ‘completed’ me in some way or ‘balanced me out.’ And when that wasn’t true anymore, everything fell to shit.” She paused for a few seconds to catch her breath. He waited patiently, rubbing soothing circles on her lower back with his thumbs.

“Something I realized over the last couple of weeks, is that I don’t need you. It’s never been that— wait. That came out wrong,” she said, shaking her head slightly but never breaking contact with his. She expected him to pull away from her or to see his anger flare once more.

She wasn’t expecting the small laugh that bubbled out of him, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. “Wow. You really are bad at this.” She swatted him playfully on the chest before she continued.

“What I mean is... it’s not like I’ve kept close to you because you served a specific purpose or kept me comfortable by never pushing me to grow. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always been supportive, but...” She trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It’s just different with you, because no matter what phase of life I’ve been in, I’ve wanted you there. And as someone who struggles to see past her own nose sometimes, wanting all of you means so much more than merely needing a certain something from you, whatever that may be.” She felt tears roll down her face again and fought to keep her voice steady enough to finish. “It means that I love you, and it’s not seasonal. It’s not contingent on this phase of life. I love you, and I want you. I want you with me so much that I haven’t been able to think about much else.” She took a deep breath, terrified of how he would respond. His breathing was a little labored, and she could feel the tension radiating off of him.

“You love me,” he rasped. All she could do was nod. He moved his hands to each of her cheeks, cradling her face as he spoke.

“And you want me.” She nodded again. She couldn’t decipher much of anything from his tone, and that scared the shit out of her considering he was usually the open book. She realized the magnitude of how he had bared himself to her all those weeks ago, only to be met with her rejection. The pain he must have felt after being so raw and open.

”I understand if you don’t have it in you to give that to me anymore. The gods know that I’ve hardly given you a reason to. I just need you to know, but I’ll unders—“

”Shut up, Nesta,” he said, through a grin, before his lips crashed into hers.

The kiss was firm and passionate, yet with a gentleness she hadn’t experienced between them before. He angled his head to slant his mouth over hers, running his tongue over the tight seam of her lips in permission. She gasped quietly as she opened up for him, sliding her hand to the nape of his neck. She wove her fingers into his long hair, as if anything less may let him slip away from her. He let out a low growl once her fingers ran over the base of his scalp and nipped gently at her bottom lip. She whimpered at that, causing him to pull back a little to look at her. Her heart clenched at the adoration she saw in his face, and she moved her other hand from its place on his chest. She looped it under his arm, around his ribs, and grasped his shoulder blade. She wanted him closer, using him to ground her in the moment.

He moved one of his hands to grip her around the waist, his long arm resting across her back. He used the thumb of his other hand to lightly stroke her cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t have it in me to keep away from you,” he murmured. He bent his knees slightly so that he could lift her around the waist and gripped her thigh with his other hand, sliding her up onto the kitchen island. He brushed his nose softly against hers, gripping her hips as he spoke, “I love you.”

She ran her hands over his forearms, up his biceps, and rested them atop each of his strong shoulders. She felt shy all a sudden, a soft smile gracing her lips as her eyes flicked up to his. His gaze darkened when she looked at him, and she mustered as much bravado as she could to ask, “And do you want me?”

He pulled her hips forward at her question, bringing her to the edge of the countertop and as close to him as possible. “Always. In every way,” he purred, bringing his mouth to the soft skin beneath her jaw.

She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. Her eyes fluttered shut as she whispered, “Show me.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: I couldn’t help but include a LITTLE more angst in their reunion— it’s just that Nessian is prime angst real estate 😂 As I said at the beginning of this post, I’m not sure how many more chapters (1 or 1 + epilogue), but I can tell you that I’ve already started writing the next chapter’s smut. 😳 Stay tuned for that!

Your comments/ feedback are always welcome. It makes my day to read through all of your reactions and commentary! If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, shoot me an ask, comment, or reblog. The same applies if your tag isn’t working for some reason. I’ll be happy to look into fixing it!

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[fics-of-culture]

4 Ways To Show Someone You Love Them 5/5 *Complete*

Summary:  Gabriel, Lucifer, Balthazar, and Cas all consider themselves fairly adept when it comes to the art of romance. They all have their own unique approach when it comes to wooing someone. And, unfortunately for you, all four of your beloved angels seem to have their sights set on you.

Words: 1,771

A/N: I am reposting all of my old fics because my old account accidentally got deleted.

Part 5: Epilogue

Sam and Dean were halfway to committing angel genocide. You had been gone for a week on a hunt without telling anyone where you were headed or how long you’d be away. As a result, all four of your ‘winged dicks’ as Dean called them, were hanging around the bunker 24/7 waiting for your return. It wasn’t very noticeable at first. Dean has been sitting in the kitchen, drinking a beer when Cas showed up suddenly. Dean was unfazed by his sudden appearance, having grown accustomed to angels poofing in and out of the bunker as they pleased. Castiel looked around the room as he asked where you were.

“Hunt.” Dean replied dismissively, continuing to drink his beer.

“Do you know where? I need to speak with Y/N. It is urgent.” Dean looked up at Cas, concerned about why Castiel needed to speak to you so urgently.

“Didn’t say. What’s the matter, Cas. Y/N in trouble or somethin’?” Castiel shifted nervously on his feet, not wanting to tell Dean what he needed to talk to you.

“No. Y/N’s not in any trouble as far as I am aware.” With that, Castiel turned and walked out of the room. Dean was left sitting there in confusion at the odd conversation. As Castiel stepped out of the kitchen, he headed towards the library, contenting himself to wait in the bunker until your return.

~~~~~~~~

The boys only had to wait a few days more for their next angelic headache to show up. Sam had been rinsing his hair in the shower when he realized he could no longer feel the water washing over his body. When he opened his eyes he realized that instead of standing in his shower, he was standing buck naked in his room. And standing before him was the infamous trickster himself.

“Dude, what the hell?” Sam shouted, attempting to cover his junk with his hands.

“Oh relax, Sammy. I’m not trying to sneak a peak.” Gabriel snaps his fingers and a towel appears in his hand. “I’m looking for Y/N.” Sam let out an irritated sigh as he took towel Gabriel offered him.

“Y/N went on a hunt.” Sam explained as he covered himself with the towel. “Surely you could’ve waited until I was done showering to ask me that.” Sam frowned as he ran his fingers through his still damp hair, noting the shampoo that hadn’t been fully washed out.

“Could’ve. But didn’t.” Gabriel had a smirk on his face, but Sam could still see a ticker of disappointment in Gabe’s eyes when he mentioned that you were gone.

“What do you need Y/N for anyway?” Instead of responding, Gabe raised his hand and snapped Sam back into his shower. Gabe let out a sigh as he left Sam’s room. He had no interest in explaining himself to tweedle dee when it came to you. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Gabe decided to head to the kitchen. Might as well grab some snacks as he waited for you to arrive.

~~~~~~

Dean was working on baby when Lucifer zapped in.

“Hey moron,” Dean let out a groan of frustration when he was pulled out from under the car by none other than the devil. He was getting really sick of constantly being bothered by the angels you called friends. “Where’s my human?” Lucifer was blunt and too the point. But Dean didn’t like the way he referred to you as ‘his’.

“First off, Y/N does not belong to you, and second, if you’re looking for Y/N you’ll have to get in line.” Lucifer scoffed as he considered Dean’s words. His brothers had been seeking you out as well. That... would not do.

“So my human isn’t here?” Dean sighed, knowing his words weren’t gonna get through to the devil any time soon.

“No. Went on a hunt.” Dean didn’t even bother with full sentences at this point, considering how many times he had to repeat the information to your impatient angels. “Can I get back to what I was doing now?” Dean gestures to baby.

“I suppose so. Since you seem to have no useful information anyway.” With that, Lucifer disappeared.

~~~~~~

By the time Balthazar appeared, the Winchester’s knew something was up. Sam and Dean had been researching possible hunts in the war room when he showed up. Before he could even open his mouth, Dean cut him off.

“Not here.” Sam chuckled a bit at Dean’s dry response.

“I see.” Balthazar looked around the room, thinking. “And I suppose I’m not the first one to inquire as to Y/Ns whereabouts?”

“Dude, not even close.” Sam answered.

“Yeah, your brothers have been harassing us for the past week. I’m five seconds away from cutting myself open and banishing all your asses.” Dean looked exasperated as he spoke.

“Well then, I suppose I ought to wait elsewhere for Y/N’s return.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Sam said. With that, Balthazar sauntered out of the war room. Sam and Dean looked at each other and sighed in unison. You needed to get back, NOW.

~~~~~

You let out a relaxed sigh as you stepped out of your truck. You’d enjoyed your time away, but you were happy to be back home. Your guilt flared up as you stepped through the door into the bunker. You hadn’t actually gone on a hunt like the Winchester’s had thought. You’d kinda sorta went on a little vacation. In your defense, cases had been far and few in-between lately and you deserved a break every once in a while. You figured that if something came up while you were gone, the brothers would be more than capable of taking care of it. And you had decided not to tell anyone to avoid any unwanted angels coming along with you. As much as you adored your angels, you needed a break from them sometimes. Your guilt grows as you walk into the library to see a very frazzled Sam and Dean.

“Oh thank god.” Dean pulled you into a bear hug, looking incredibly relieved that you were home. “Where have you been?” Dean pulls back to look you in the eye. You’re surprised by how distressed he looked.

“Dean? What happened? You look stressed.”

“Those asshats happened! That’s what!” Sam put his hand on Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to cool off.

“What he means to say is that, while you were gone, your angel friends have been making things difficult for us.” Sam shoots you a sympathetic smile when he sees your crestfallen look. Dean, however, marches on.

“Yeah, they’ve been here day in and day out for the past two weeks making life hell. Between the constant pranks and nonstop bickering, we haven’t been able to get anything done.” You feel awful all of a sudden. You had no idea going on a little trip would take such a toll on the Winchesters. You’re also incredibly upset at your angels for acting like this. You leave for two weeks and the bunker is thrown into chaos.

“Alright,” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’ll sort this out. Where are they?”

“Your room.”

~~~~~~

You sigh as you head up to your room, all the relaxation from before completely drained by the stress of dealing with four angelic children. As you near your room, you start to hear the bickering that the boys had mentioned before.

“As if Y/N could ever fall for you.” You slow to a standstill as you hear this. It sounded like Lucifer but you weren’t sure who he was talking to.

“Oh yes, I’m sure Y/N much prefers you following her around like a lost puppy whilst acting like you couldn’t care less about them.” Ah, Balthazar. Well that explains that mystery. You hear a chuckle from somewhere else in your room. “I don’t see why you’re laughing.” Balthazar continues. “You’re just as bad when it comes to constantly being up Y/N’s ass 24/7.

“Oh right.” You identify Gabe’s voice this time. You note the rising irritation in all of their voices as the discussion continues. “Maybe I should just go around talking to them in a language no one here actually SPEAKS, because you’re to much of a coward to say how you feel in English.” Before Balthazar can respond, a gravely voice speaks up.

“This conversation is pointless.” Cas points out. You feel relieved that one of them is finally being objective about the situation. “Besides, it is my belief that I share a more profound bond with Y/N than anyone else here does.” So much for objectivity, you think idly.

“If Y/N needs someone I braid their hair, I’m sure you’ll be the first they call.” Lucifer states dryly. “But I find it incredibly hard to believe Y/N would choose someone so pathetic.”

“Watch who you’re calling pathetic there, baby bro.” Gabe starts up again. “Cassy here might be a wet blanket.” You hear a quiet ‘hey!’ In the background as Gabriel speaks. “But he ain’t the one who threw a celestial bitch fit in heaven when daddy didn’t give him what he wanted.”

“I’m sorry, where were you when that happened?” Lucifer’s voice was steeped in anger now. “Oh right, you were busy running your ass away from heaven. And speaking of angels who ran away...” Lucifer’s voice is drowned out by Balthazar’s protests. Everyone was shouting over each other at this point. You knew you needed to intervene at this point, but for a moment you just felt frozen. Your angels, were all in love with you. That much was clear from what you’d overheard. Everything was suddenly much clearer to you now. All of your friends’ odd behavior as of late had been their attempts to woo you. You felt foolish for not realizing this until now. You wondered if any of them had been very successful in their attempts. Of course, there was one angel who had managed to completely sweep you off of your feet even before all this began. And now you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved you as much as you loved him. You shake off these thoughts and go to open the door to your room.

The room falls silent as all four angels turn to see you standing in the doorway. Each one of them, Lucifer included, at least had to decency to look embarrassed that you’d overheard their argument.

“I think,” You look over to angel. The one you love with all your heart. And your heart pangs as he smiles softly at you. “We need to have a talk.”

[fangirlinglikeabus]

every target novelisation....2!

planet of giants by terrance dicks ok so i think that the reason that this is...good, and an unearthly child was...not good, is because this was written 9 years later when like. other, non-terrance dicks people were also novelising stories and he wasn’t just grinding them out on an industrial level. planet of giants isn’t one of the greats of doctor who but this is a competent adaptation - it doesn’t add much but it does flesh out what’s already there, giving us some backstory elements and making the appearance of giant insects and bodies seem a bit more dramatic than they could manage in 1964. unfortunately it also alters my favourite line from the story (‘i don't know how you know, you're supposed to know!’) and the doctor is weirdly hostile at the beginning (he’s looking forward to ditching ian and barbara, he responds to barbara’s observation ‘drily’ like he’s being a bit sarcastic over her, um, *checks notes* noticing important details). also, dicks describes this in the opening as ‘the doctor’s most grotesque and terrifying adventure’ and i’m like...planet of giants? really??

doctor who and the dalek invasion of earth by terrance dicks ok this one legitimately doesn’t change much at all. it cuts down on some things (including the doctor’s end speech being shorter - i’m assuming that’s a space thing), fleshes out on pov bits as you can in prose, gets rid of the smacked bottom line. bizarrely there are a few times that susan calls her grandfather the doctor which...i’m pretty sure wasn’t there originally. aside from all those small details, yeah it’s basically the same, but it’s well adapted for prose (i genuinely think it stands as a novel in its own right), and depending on your reading speed it might actually be a nice, shorter alternative to the television version - it was around 45 minutes less time for me. some general things i wanted to comment on: the resistance is explicitly shown as kinda gender segregated (exclusively women are preparing food when we first see it) which irritated me; the description of parliament as a symbol of ‘human progress and tradition’ reminded me of blood harvest having the lords/commons system as the Ideal Form Of Government, in terms of how terrance dicks thinks (this may only interest me? idk i very probably spend too much time thinking about the political views of this particular dead dr who script editor); there’s a use of holocaust here that’s technically accurate to what the word literally means but it felt weird to me to use it.

the rescue by ian marter oh man i’ve been busy and this took me aages to read. it kinda...diverges increasingly from the original story as it goes on. we’ve got some scenes with the seeker crew (incidentally one of them says ‘ass’ and i was like???hello???you’re allowed to do that in a dr who book from 1987???), and then most of the expanded stuff is in the climax. dr who and bennett have a full on brawl! ian, barbara and vicki visit a destroyed didoi city on their way back to the tardis! mysterious silver figures! a giant worm encounter! incidentally, this does have way more of a downer ending than the original because it’s strongly implied that the last two of the didoi were killed by seeker crewmembers who fired in a panic, after which the report that forms the epilogue ends with “goodwill to all persons” to give us a taste of bitter irony. so that’s kinda grim. um...there’s actually a lot of little changes and minor expansions to this one as well so off the top of my head: we learn more about why vicki left earth (global warming :/), sandy is a lot more threatening-looking than on screen, the crashed ship gets its name changed to astra-nine, ian and barbara hold hands briefly, barbara’s fall really leaves her beaten up. i like the seeker crew comparing the tardis briefly passing them to various non-police box objects from the future (although the link to china is a bit eastern world=alien association for my tastes), dr who telling vicki ‘give that pretty face a wipe’ is clearly him attempting to cheer her up and it’s not meant to be weird but i found it weird. finally, i’ve gotta say i appreciate ian marter’s commitment to ‘mildly unsettling’ in his descriptions of tardis materialisations. this was the last novelisation he wrote before his death (the book’s dedicated to him) and mild criticisms aside, i do think he’s a good writer and he brings an interestingly different angle to the series. 

the romans by donald cotton oh my god. how do i even start this. i’m not even going to try cataloguing all the changes because this isn’t even close to a straight adaptation. it’s told in the form of various documents collected by tacitus - the doctor’s diary, ian’s journal that he keeps to prove to the headmaster at coal hill that he and barbara haven’t just eloped (i’m not joking, this is the textual reason for it), an assassin’s letters home to his mum, nero’s scribblings, and various other little details. vicki and barbara get less attention than on screen because we don’t see much from their perspective (vicki unfortunately doesn’t even get to chase the assassin out, she just screams in this), and the nero assassination plot is exclusively confined to being mentioned in the epilogue. it’s also a lot broader, or at least consistently broader, which means that ian’s side of things is treated a lot more lightly (which i was personally fine with) but also that we still get nero’s predatory behaviour being played for laughs. there’s also a few comments about women early on that i was unhappy with, and use of fat as an insult. generally, though, i thought this was great! there were a lot of things that i don’t have space or time to include here but i really liked. i guess i’d consider this as a companion piece to the tv version rather than a replacement, which some of these do basically serve as. they tell the same basic story, but they’re so different in a lot of ways that i think it’s worth looking at both. i just checked my notes and remembered this so content warning: poppea sabina’s first section references suicide.

doctor who and the zarbi by bill strutton ok so i think the web planet is boring. i don’t know completely why, i don’t think it’s any one thing, it has some interesting ideas, but it is! it’s fucking boring! anyway, we have a bit more casual sexism in the novel, we’re missing that fun convo about aspirin between vicki and barbara, but really i don’t think it adds or changes much - like even the chapters correspond pretty much exactly to the tv cliffhangers. i guess it’s competently written prose-wise, but i genuinely can’t get over my conviction that this story is boring. am i being unfair? maybe! i like some of the early atmosphere, though, and i appreciate a book which refers to ‘the ship tardis’ (lowercase) and ‘doctor who’ throughout the entire thing. oh yeah, and i encourage you all to look up the illustrations for this. i don’t know who that woman is but she’s definitely not vicki.

doctor who and the crusaders by david whitaker ah yes, the infamous ‘susan married david cameron’ novelisation. tbh i don’t like the crusades and this has the same problems - i don’t care about the english, el akir is every orientalist stereotype whitaker could possibly cram into one man, and That’s Not How A Harem Works. do i think it’s the most egregiously racist doctor who story of all time? probably not! it certainly has sympathetic arabic characters too. but i prefer most other historicals, at least. however, if that isn’t you, i’m sure you’ll get something out of this. there aren’t any particularly extreme changes to the plot structure, although it’s missing some later scenes at the english court, but it’s well written and probably if you like the original you’ll enjoy it more than i did. there’s some dated language surrounding black characters, though, i’m not a fan of the whole ‘we aren’t so different’ speech ian has (because it rests on ‘we all believe in a higher power’ which uh. i don’t. guess that means i’m not ‘civilised’. also generally i don’t like the argument that we should respect each other because of what we have in common - you should respect other people whatever!), and the prologue at the beginning where they muse on history and destiny assumes that the english invaders and the arabs are both equally right in their own ways (the doctor outright says this!)

the space museum by glyn jones so, i really like the space museum. mainly for vicki’s revolutionary fervour, but there are other reasons too. however, i don’t think that this really adds enough to be of interest - although we do get some information about the two alien species’ biology, and a bonus explanation of why everyone speaks english (the moroks briefly considered invading earth so programmed some earth languages into their translation system). there’s a bit more wandering around the museum, some minor tweaks and expansions in other areas, an underground tunnel scene where we learn a bit of the planet’s backstory...ian and the doctor are very snippy to each other in this, which i find funny. oh yeah, and there’s a bizarrely meta bit where ian comments on poor dialogue? basically, this is a book i enjoyed, but really it just makes me want to watch the space museum instead of reading it. just a heads up, there’s a character who briefly considers suicide to get out of his bosses being angry with him. 

the chase by john peel ok before i get started i need to establish that the cover for this one slaps. anyway, i don’t respect john peel at all but this was...alright? doesn’t expand much plotwise (although i suspect both the sand monsters at the beginning and the plants at the end have slightly more to do) but we get a fair bit of pov stuff. unfortunately lacking ian’s dad dancing and hi-fi the panda, the marie celeste bit is no longer played for comedy (barbara angsts over it) and even though the two paragraphs dragging morton dill are kinda funny i’m not sure how i feel about him being committed for claiming he saw daleks. ian and barbara’s departure plays out a little differently. steven is blond for some reason. we learn as well that daleks are charged by solar panels (at least they’re pro-green energy??)

the time meddler by nigel robinson pretty competent, straight down the middle novelisation, although that is tempered by inserting some weird sexist bits for steven and also lowkey being nostalgic for 11th century england at a few points? it’s also a bit more violent than we see on tv, and if anything the rape is more loudly implied, so heads up. other than that, there are a few minor embellishments (we’re explicitly told the dr and monk recognise each other, vicki tells steven that the tardis is important to her because it’s her home, a few differences between the monk’s tardis and the doctor’s are described, vicki views steven following her as a triumphant victory in their power struggle which i personally find funny), and there’s a prologue (recapping steven’s arrival in the tardis) and an epilogue (which delays the monk’s discovery of the broken tardis because he walks to hastings first to try and get involved there). i had fun, but it’s not a must read.