#but like... can ya stop making the conversation about how mega powerful you are compared to the person you are talking to?

[faragonreblogs]

Man.

I'd like a roleplay where the other oc character isn't some super powerful, millenia-old primordial being who's so insanely strong they could kill me in an instant (and are ready to kill on site), while I'm just a lil friendly guy tryin to get by.

I'd like to stop running into those constantly, please.

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Ch 6: The Design Diva Strikes Again!

Here's the first of TWO chapters coming to ya on my days off as promised! Thanks for being patient and the well-wishes. I'm recovering pretty well.

Note: Here's the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW (I told you I'd get to it soon lol)

Lilly squirmed around in her bed. Her pink and purple curls were sticking out around her pillow that she used to smother her own face. A hand with beautiful galaxy nails, courtesy of Asmodeus, was planted in the middle of it. She moaned and groaned, not wanting to wake up. That was until she felt movement in her bed!

Her hand clutched the pillow and tossed it quickly from her face in a hurry. She immediately looked down at the foot of her bed. There was a large mass beneath her giant, fluffy comforter. There was something in her bed!

Slowly mustering all of her courage, the human eased the comforter up and open. Her eye were squinting, afraid of what she was about to see at her feet. One eye opened, then the other.

“Hello~” there was a very sensual, yet familiar voice. A set of icy blue, glowing orbs stared at Lilly before she registered the female nephilim peering at her from the darkness beneath the covers.

Yes, it was Lena! A nearly naked Lena at that: she wore a lacy black thong that was completely see-through and an oversized tank top. Because she was on all-fours, the giant opening hung low enough to reveal her full chest. She giggled devilishly and licked her lips, staring at Lilly like a predator.

“L-L-Lena!?! What are you doing!?” Lilly gasped. Her beautiful, tanned skin was now bright red as she looked at the nephilim crawling closer, between her legs.

“You, if you’d let me babe…” she smirked and crawled closer, now close enough to anchor her hands on either side of the human’s hips. She tilted her head to the side, letting her long hair fall to the side, gently touching Lilly’s leg. She awaited her answer, knowing very well how tempting she looked in this precarious position.

Lilly gulped, and parted her lips for a moment, staring at Lena in almost a trance. A nod followed, then a motion for Lena to approach her further. The nephilim crept up and over the petite human and kissed her softly.

“Good choice…” Lena purred. Lilly laughed and pulled her into a deeper kiss. Her lips tasted sweet and her skin was like the finest silk in the three realms. The human wanted to explore every inch of her body.

The nephilim wasted no time to straddle her. Lilly gasped as she watched her remove her top, revealing her beautiful large breasts; They nearly made her cry, “You’re so fucking gorgeous Lena…”

Lena giggled, “Look who’s talking...you’re fucking hot. I’ve lived for thousands of years and never seen such perfect caramel skin and those lovely violet eyes. You’re bewitching Lilly.” She pulled the human into a deeper, more sensual kiss. Her hands wandered to the small of her back, slowly lifting her shirt up and off.

Unable to wait any longer, the mortal reversed their positions, pinning Lena on her back. She was dominant by nature, and while she knew she was no match for a powerful being like the nephilim, she wanted to take control. Lena seemed very welcoming to the idea.

Lilly ran her tongue across Lena’s left nipple as she softly groped the other. Hearing the other woman moan was music to her ears. It’s been so long since she’d shared her bed with anyone; a dry spell since the exchange program began.

Just as she began to inch Lena’s thong down, Lilly began to wonder why she was thinking so intently about things other than this drop-dead gorgeous creature beneath her and what was that sound in the distance…

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS MESS?!!!!”

The human woke to those words. A fucking dream!? NOOOOOOOOO! Pouting, she looked over at her temporary roomy, waking up on her couch; fully clothed and oblivious as to what was going on.

A series of profanities filled the entire House of Lamentation. Lena knew who it was and wanted to jump out of the nearest window and run away.

Mammon gave his one knock warning and popped his head in. “Are ya guys alright? Who was that?” Awe, he came to check on them.

“That was just my darling brother discovering my room you guys are lending me...and the sound of a nephilim experiencing a heart attack I’d imagine…”

*~*~*~

Lena quickly put on a robe and followed a series of ‘motherfuckers’, ‘sons-a-bitches’, and ‘dirty rat bastards’ to the attic. Both Lilly and Mammon accompanied her, despite the many warnings she gave them. “Major Diva warning alert...just saying…”

When they arrived upstairs, the trio found a raving mad Azri, Asmo, and Satan. The demons were standing in the doorway, quietly observing the nephilim as he inspected the room. He was listing every single thing that was wrong with the room.

“Good morning, my darling big brother…” Lena grinned evilly at him. This caused a chain-reaction of giggles.

“There’s not a damn good thing about it!” Azri responded with his hands on his hips, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner that they put you in the filth and squalor like those poor ‘Flowers in the Attic children’?! These are abhorrent living conditions Azralena!”

Lena had to fight hard not to laugh or tell him it was cleaned-up compared to what it was like after Belphegor took his stuff out that first night. He’d scream and faint like a goat if she did. “It’s not that bad bro. If anyone can fix it up, it’s you!”

Azri stopped his pacing and approached his little sister. Everyone held still, afraid of his reaction. He put his hands on her petite shoulders and looked down at Lena with a severe expression, “Lena,” he paused, “I may have to actually pray to celestial realm and every angelic fiber of my body for a fucking miracle to fix this abomination…”

“Is it really so horrible?” A deep voice boomed from behind them. Apparently, Lucifer had joined the fray.

“Oooh, Lucifer’s involved now...this is gonna be good…” Asmo whispered to his brothers and Lilly. There were smiles exchanged, but nobody was brave enough to laugh at this in front of the eldest brother.

“As a matter of fact it is Lucifer,” Azriel responded, “My sister deserves better than this. Are we not guests of Lord Diavolo’s? My sister has told me about ‘how cool Leviathan’s room is with the jellyfish and mega aquarium…” he then looked over at Asmodeus, “and his room is ‘absolutely beautiful’ she says. And it has a giant bathroom that looks like Regina George’s...and you give a dust-filled, cobwebbed attic with loose boards and….ARE THOSE EYES!!!!!?”

Azriel pointed to a whole in the wall on the north side. “This is unacceptable! As the eldest brother you must take responsibility to make sure my sister is staying in comfortable living quarters during her stay!”

Lena just tried to hide her face out of embarrassment. Why was he such a diva? She of course appreciated him looking after her like this, but sometimes he was just too much. This was definitely one of those cases.

“And what do you propose I do about it? My brothers each fixed their rooms on their own. This IS the House of Lamentation, not a human world resort.” Lucifer responded dryly. He did have a point there. One that only irritated the eldest nephilim. Lena felt the need to intervene before things got ugly.

“Hey guys, let’s just take a chill pill for a moment…” she said, holding her hands up as if to surrender to this mess.

‘Chill...pill…?” Lucifer looked at the female nephilim with a weary and perplexed expression.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s a metaphor…” Lena chuckled, “Look, I never meant things to get out of hand and Azri...you shouldn’t barge into someone’s home and go off like this...apologize. Now.”

After looking down at his short, little sister, Azriel sighed, “Sorry. Lena is right. I tend to...overreact when it comes to my siblings. I am in charge of the both of them.”

“I...can understand that.” Lucifer was willing to meet him halfway. From one eldest sibling to another.

“And Luci...fer” Lena almost tried a nickname but was not brave enough to go there yet. “Uhm, please allow my brother to remodel this room. I promise he is a professional in interior design as well as fashion. He will make structural repairs that could save future incidents. It’d give him peace of mind, I’ll be cozy, and you get a new roof out of it...for free.”

Lucifer eyed her, then her brother. They were both strangers, but if he was a professional, the demon believed he could be trusted enough for the task. “Very well. The two of you can do what you see fit in this room..and the roof if necessary. You’re not to do anything with any other room without my immediate permission alone. And, of course, you’re responsible for the remodeling costs. My brothers paid for the own rooms to be remodeled into what they are now. Even Mammon.”

All eyes shot to the Avatar of Greed and he felt it immediately, “HEY! What y’all look’n at! Of course I paid for my room to look as amazing as me, The Great Mammon!”

“He says that like we could actually believe him…” Satan muttered and the others agreed with him.

“Bet it was paid for from stolen belonging or money laundering schemes…” Lilly added.

“Most definitely.” Amso agreed.

“STOP TALK’N AS IF I’M NOT HERE!!!” Mammon yelled.

Lucifer cut his conversation with Lena and Azriel short to deal with his siblings. “MAMMOOON! Quit yelling so loudly. Get downstairs and eat breakfast. Now!”

The group, sans Azriel, did head down to eat breakfast. Those missing at the scene were filled in about the construction that was going to be done to Lena’s room by her brothers. Azriel was the design genius, but it was Zak that was the brawn behind the project. He was just more sensible and refused to show up so early in the morning.

~*~*~*~

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. In just a couple of days, the nephilim had adjusted nicely into their classes. Belmont Academy had a similar curriculum blended with human education as well. It was “hybrid education for hybrid youth” as Lena explained it. She talked Lilly into checking into it once she returned to the human realm after the exchange program.

At lunchtime, the group joined together and talked about the events that started their morning. Asmo and Mammon dramatically told everyone what happened, getting everyone laughing about it. Well everyone but the two nephilim.

“Why the fuck didn’t you stop him from showing up so early?” Lena asked Zak, pointing her fork at him.

“I told him not to. He lied, saying he wouldn’t, and took off when I hopped in the shower. For being the supposed ‘responsible one’, he’s horrible when it comes to using his design skills or cleanliness…”

Lena sighed and nodded, “The. worst.”

“You do have to hand it to him though,” Asmodeus chimed in, “Azri did stand toe-to-toe with Lucifer without batting a silvery eyelash. That’s crazy! And Lena! You got between them quickly to intervene and stopped them from bickering!”

“Well of course. The root cause is ultimately my fault. So I took responsibility for it. Besides, it was pretty stupid to begin with. Arguing over interior designing an attic. Really?” Lena laughed.

“OOOOH I GOT IT!,” An otherwise quiet Leviathan exclaimed, “Your superpower is the ability to calm even the most powerful foes, like Lucifer, down!?!”

Lena paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, her brother joining in. Even Solomon couldn't help but chuckle at the notion. “THAT’S HILARIOUS!!!” She began to choke and punched her chest to stop it. “That’d be great. And it would have probably stopped many of earth’s wars. But nope. That’s definitely not it Levi-kun!”

Her response embarrassed the third eldest demon brother. That was, until she called him Levi-kun; It brought up a whole different reason to be embarrassed.

~*~*~

The rest of the school day passed in the blink of an eye. The RAD students disbursed, with the Purgatory students wishing everyone good luck with the remodelling go on. It was code for ‘good luck not getting into another fight over it’.

On the way home, they decided to grab Hell’s Kitchen burgers to go. Of course Beel wanted to eat a dozen there first, so they divided between those playing arcade games, those ordering the food, and Belphie watching Beel eat and hopefully not go on a rampage.

“Yes! I got it!” Lena screamed. She was at the claw machine with Lilly and Leviathan.

“That’s amazing!” Lilly cheered.

Leviathan gave his signature scream of excitement and proceeded to tell the girls what character it was, and their backstory, and everything in between.

“So what I’m hearing is…this is a valuable part of a set...and that you’re collecting that set aren’t ya?” Lena asked.

“Yeah. I’m missing her and two others.” Levi admitted.

Lena grinned and handed it over to the demon. “Then you’ll get more value out of having this than I will. So you’d better take it then.”

“R-Really?” Levi asked, shocked that she would just give the figurine to him.

“Yes, really!” Lena chuckled, “I just wanted the thrill of winning. You can have the figure. I don’t know what I’m gonna have room for when Azri’s done and that clothing haul is moved in from Lilly’s room.”

“ARIGATO!!!!” Levi cheerfully thanked the nephilim and held up the figurine into the air to admire it.

Lilly lingered back, watching the two nerd-out, sighing inwardly. It was clear that Lena was getting a little attached to Leviathan. He wasn’t catching on, and it made it more adorable...and sickeningly sweet to her. Oh well, she’d have to rely on her dreams still, until she could find a hot demoness that was interested in her and not devouring her soul.

[captainamericasbeard]

Rescue 8/10

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Enhanced!Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: lots of talk about anxiety

Summary: The Avengers are sent in to rescue a group of omegas from the hands of Hydra. There Bucky finds you, an enhanced omega. Can you ever be fully rescued from what Hydra has done to you?

A/N: I’M REALLY REALLY SORRY, OK.  IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE SEND AN ASK.

Rescue 7 l Masterlist

You meet Bucky on the jet pad to send him off. He comes strutting out in his tack gear, guns and knives strapped everywhere, his arm gleaming in the sunshine and he takes your breath away. This is your Alpha, strong and mighty and off to save the world. The sight makes you lips curve up and your heart rate pick up. Bucky strides over to you and you wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your face in his neck, scenting him.

“Come back to me, ya hear?” You whisper into his ear, kissing his neck lightly. He grips your hips tightly.

“Promise,” he says, pulling back to look deep in your eyes and you know he means it. You give him a nod and a final soft kiss on the lips before you pry yourself off of him. He walks past you and moves into the jet, giving you a final wink and a smirk. A shiver rolls through you despite the sunlight and you wrap your arms around your body as you watch the jet disappear on the horizon. You stand there a few moments longer with your face turned towards the sun, quietly wishing Bucky back to you and then you turn back into the compound.

You wander through the mostly empty halls trying to decide what to do with your free day. Steve, Sam, Nat, and Bucky are on the mission. Wanda is off visiting her brother for the week. You're certain Tony is tucked away in his lab and you’ve no idea where Thor might be. You decide to go in search of the latter, Thor being the only alpha, besides Bucky, you feel truly comfortable with. He’s been training you for four months now, even delaying his return to Asgard to help you control and focus your powers. You’ve developed an easy friendship with the alpha and you know he’ll be excited to hear you’re going to train to go on missions.

You head for the gym first wondering if Thor is working out but you only find lonely equipment and the faint smell of alphas. You check his room and the kitchen to find those empty too. You’re about to give up and resign yourself to the list of movies Tony says you have to catch up on when you hear music coming from the library. You bound up the stairs and peak through the partly open door to see Thor picking through the record collection next to the record player. You watch as he pulls the current record off of the player and back into its sleeve and place a new one on the turntable. You gently knock on the door and push it open and the Asgardian looks up at you with his famous mega watt smile.

“Y/N! Did you farewell Bucky on his mission?” The god asks.

“I did. He should be back tonight, so that’s good.” A shiver runs through you again and you wrap your arms around yourself once more. “What are you doing up here?” You ask.

“I'm looking for a specific song I heard our dear Captain listening to the other day. Something about Black Magic, and a lover beyond compare.” Thor has a misty look in his eyes and he stares down at the stack of records. A deep memory has stirred inside him and you feel as though you are intruding on something private. He snaps out of his reverie and offers you a tender smile by way of apology.

“I think it’s Glen Miller. My dad used to listen to this kind of music.” Your heart stutters as you mention your dad and a memory comes clawing its way to the surface. It’s your turn to get lost in your mind and you shake your head to snap yourself out of it. You move over to the crate full of records and thumb through them until you come across a familiar picture. You pull the record out and searching the song titles until you find the right one. You place it on the record player and get the needle into the correct groove and Glen begins to croon out his tune.

That old black magic has me in its spell

That old black magic that you weave so well…

“A dance, my lady?” Thor asks, extending his hand to you. You fidget with the hem of your shirt, nervous of what Bucky would say. As though he can read your mind Thor says, “I promise I’m a perfect gentleman.” You smile and consent, gingerly placing your hand in his large, warm one.

It feels strange, you realize, to touch another person like this. Thor has touched you, but only in the training room. Wanda has hugged you and grabbed your hand excitedly, but that was friendship. This was a different kind of touch, kind and soft and close. Before you can get too nervous you realize that Thor has no designs on a slow, intimate dance. Despite the romantic tempo of the music he starts spinning you around the room, dipping you wildly, and holding you arms length away so you can twist your hips in unison. You’re both too busy laughing to notice the music has stopped and you fall down on a nearby couch, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear. Thor’s booming laugh echos through the room as he moves the needle off of the record before the next song can start.

“Well done, well done. You’re very light on your feet!” Thor says with a twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know how it's possible that I'm any good, I’ve never actually danced before,” you say lightly, not wanting to shift the mood.

“Perhaps it’s natural talent. You should explore it, drag Barnes to some dancing lessons. You never know, you might have fun.” Thor encourages.

“Speaking of natural talent,” you wink, “wanna go train!?” You ask excitedly. You’re eager to perfect your skills and get Thor’s sign off on missions.  

As the two of you make your way to The Cave, you tell Thor about your conversation with Bucky. Thor is supportive of your desire to go on missions though he says he understands Bucky’s misgivings.

“If I had a lovely omega such as yourself, I wouldn’t want her going on missions either. It’s our natural instinct to protect. Bucky’s only doing what his physiology tells him to, protecting his omega. You must forgive him for it.” Thor offers by way of explanation.

“I do, it’s just hard. I’ve been controlled my whole life. I don’t want the person I care for the most to control me as well. I want to do what I know in my heart is right,” you say.

“Give him time. And train hard. Let him see how capable you are and he’ll feel more comfortable.” Thor says patting you on the shoulder. You’ve arrived at The Cave and the two of you head inside to train.

Thor begins putting you through you your drills. After months of training aiming and controlling how intense your power is is no trouble. Thor wants to move on to seeing how much power you can absorb so you spend an hour getting shocked by the God of Thunder. You’re having fun so you can’t understand why there’s a growing sense of unease in the pit of your stomach. Your anxiety is rising but you can’t see any reason why. After an hour and a half you tell Thor you want to call it quits.

“Everything alright, my lady?” Thor questions.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I just feel like something is off. I might go watch tv and see if I can calm down,” you explain.

“Would you care for some company,” Thor offers.

“No, I think I’d rather be by myself,” you say. You give Thor a nod and wander off in the direction of the common room.

You’re feeling depleted from your training session so you grab some of your favorite snacks and cuddle up on the couch under the coziest blanket you can find. You flip through Netflix searching for something that could grab your interest but after 15 minutes of browsing you come up with nothing, and you resort to rewatching a series you’ve seen a million times. You binge watch three episodes but it's not distracting you from the growing feeling of anxiety building in your body so you decide to try to sleep it off.

You go to your bedroom where the mingled scent of you and Bucky surrounds you and automatically starts to take the edge off your anxiety. All you want is for Bucky to be home so he can wrap you in his arms and take away your fears. You fall into your nest and snuggle up to  Bucky’s pillow, and drift off into a fitful sleep. You dream but you can’t remember it upon waking. Snippets of pain and fear and Bucky is there. After a few hours you give up on a nap. You’re about to try a book when F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s lilting accent comes over the PA in your room.

“Y/N, I thought you might like to know that the jet is five minutes out,” the AI informs you.

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you respond, hopping out of your nest. You rush to the landing pad and wait, bouncing on your toes. You know you’ll feel better as soon as Bucky steps off that jet. The jet lands and the ramp opens. Sam, Nat, and Steve pile out but Bucky doesn’t follow. Sam is hurt and he and Nat avoid your gaze as Nat helps him limp up to medical. Steve is approaching you and your head is spinning. Why isn’t Bucky stepping off the jet? Why are you not in his arms already? Steve is in front of you and you can’t meet his eyes for fear of what you’ll find there.

“Just tell me,” you say as you stare at the ground, your eyes filling with tears. You don’t need to hear it to know something has gone terribly wrong. Steve stays silent. You finally bring your eyes up to his face to find his eyes dull and his expression twisted in pain.

“Tell me Steve.” Still he’s silent. He can’t bring himself to speak the words. He can’t stand the thought of how much he’s about to hurt you. Your anger builds at his silence and you scream at him to tell you what happened as you pound your fists against his chest.

“Damnit Steve, talk to me! What happened!?” You shout, the tears falling freely. This not knowing is agony. Steve finally comes to and grabs your wrists to stop your abuse. He drops your hands and breathes deep, bracing himself.

“It was a set up, Y/N. Intel told us it was only 20 agents in a seldom used base. It was over 100 agents. They were waiting for us, for Bucky. They captured him, took off. We couldn’t catch up. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so so sorry,” you heard Steve’s words but they were an echo in the back of your mind. All you could hear was that Bucky was gone. Your head rang with the words, it spun your mind into a whirl. You felt your knees going weak and your vision darkening. The last thing you remember is Steve’s strong arms reaching out to catch you as you collapse to the ground.

Chapter 9

______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @fanfictionjunkie1112​ @kiki5283​ @humanexile​ @starkrobb​ @alyxkbrl​ @momc95​ @bullshitantichrist​ @the-omni-princess​ @animegirlgeeky​ @acf2510​ @fluffyirwinie​ @disasterwelshgirl​ @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety​ @veronawrites​ @guccicloudz​ @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @no-clue-whats-happenin​ @booktease21​ @mymomcallsmefury​ @fafulous​ @asgardlover75​ @susmita121​ @noseyrosey1597​ @jennmurawski13​ @buckybarnesscrunchie​ @learisa​ @kinkywitchy​ @mywinterwolf​ @dyanna-corona​ @procrastinating-angels​ @shellbeerocks​ @broco8​ @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ @sweetybuzz25​ @cookies186​ @badassbaker​

[dandelion-san]

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Fandom: Yuri on Ice tags: humor, friendship, alternate universe, implied murder summary: While disposing of a corpse, an alien crashlands into Yuuri. (or the one where Yuuri is an assassin, Phichit is an alien and now his roommate, and Victor is the very ordinary bartender who is in love with Yuuri and is also his neighbor) notes: how many genres and tropes can I fit into one series? Answer: a lot. (warning for probable job inaccuracies?) 

–

Yuuri is just taking a break from dragging the two hundred pound corpse from his car to the woods when the world suddenly turns bright and a high-pitched ringing sound makes itself known. He covers his ears by reflex and quickly squeezes his eyes shut, taken so off-guard that he is half-delirious in both pain and panic.

But as soon as it came, the ringing stops and the light seems to fade away from behind his closed eyelids.

Before he can tentatively open them, something heavy crashes into his body and sends him to the ground.

“OW,” says a young voice.

Yuuri’s eyes snaps open. He blinks rapidly at first, clearing away blurriness and the black spots appearing in his vison, but the first thing he sees is the starry sky.

…Actually no.

The first thing he sees is smoke and fumes coming out of a very large saucer-shaped ship that is currently crashed into some trees just up ahead. That – that is – something with a size of that magnitude – how could he have missed – what?

No, seriously. What?

Very slowly, he turns his head.

There is a boy who looks just a little younger than Yuuri himself (NOT AN ALIEN, his brain says in Denial) lying next to him, eyes closed, curled up in fetal position and rubbing a bump on his head. His hair is in a funny bowl-cut that is currently sticking out with leaves and sticks and there’s dirt on his face. There are two antennas sticking out from his hair that is curling and uncurling (NOPE, his brain continues to say). Obviously a physical deformation, of course. Obviously.

Yuuri swallows thickly.

The boy opens his eyes finally, dark brown mirroring Yuuri’s own. The boy blinks, a reflection of his previous actions.

The boy grins sheepishly. “WHAT’S UP, DUDE,” he says. “I COME IN PEACE. THERE IS NO NEED TO TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.” He sticks his hand out in an oddly familiar gesture, palms flat with his ring and pinky sticking together and out from the others to make a ‘V’.

Yuuri, eyes wide, asks, “Can you, please, not shout?”

“SORRY,” the boy says. Then, “sorry. Is this better?” He gains a look of satisfaction at Yuuri’s whimper and then starts stretching his limbs out. “Wow, this is great! What a lucky night it is for me!” He laughs loudly and then rolls over to his other side, startling when he nudges the target’s body. “Hm, and what about you? Sorry about the landing, dude. Didn’t mean to land on top of you two. My name’s Phichit, by the way.”

Yuuri stares at the sky, refusing to look at the giant, smoking ship, or the Not-Alien talking to the corpse of his last target.

“Not a talkative one, are ya?” Then the boy pauses.

It is a long pause.

  “Oh my dear stars, I killed an Earthling!”

–

Yuuri has never had a conversation on this end before so he’s quite a bit out of his depth. But he’s trying his best, repeating what Mari used to do for him during his crying-sessions, and he’s not doing too badly if he does say so himself.

“Come on now, just breathe,” he says in a croon, rubbing the Not-Alien’s back. They are currently sitting upright together while the boy has his knees up and currently sobbing into them. He is so distraught that everything about him looks like it’s drooping, like his antennas which are hanging low over his ears like a sad puppy. “Yup, there you go. Just let it all out. You’re doing so well, buddy.” The tears are glowing a bright blue. Yuuri refuses to acknowledge this.

Phichit says, hysterically, “I’m so – sooo sorry, I didn’t mean to k-k-kill your friieeeend.” He can barely even get the sentence out and wails out the last word.

“No, no, no you didn’t!” Yuuri is quick to reassure him. “See, he was already dead. And he wasn’t my friend,” he adds.

The tears are actually starting to stain his shirt. Not that it is glowing, or anything.

Yuuri gently tilts Phichit’s head up with one hand. “It wasn’t your fault, I promise. Okay?” He gently pats his head with his other. “There you go. Shh, shhhh.” Thankfully, Phichit is visibly calming.

He peers up at him with watery eyes. There are two rings in his irises. “R-really?” He hiccups.

“Oh yeah,” says Yuuri. “He was definitely already deader than dead.” He smiles a little, fondly reminiscing his little adventure from that afternoon. It was such a challenge trying to get into the target’s office. The mercenaries were a bit of an obstacle, of course, but nothing that he couldn’t handle.  

Phichit is staring at him in wide horrified realization. “Oh kriff.” He scrambles away, pointing a finger at him and shrieking, antennas standing straight up. “You! You killed him!”

Yuuri puts his hands up and slowly stands. He sweats. “Come on, buddy, uh – Phichit –“

“Back off!” Phichit hits the trunk of a tree. “They warned me about this! Earthlings are crazy, war-mongering people! I mean, what kind of species chooses to live on a Class F-designated planet that you people named after DIRT.”

Yuuri sighs. “Oh boy.”

He hopes he doesn’t have to kill this one.

–

“Twooooooooo Piña Coladas, please. One tab!”

The bartender, to his credit, just widens his eyes at both of their appearances – Yuuri, who is wearing a muddy and blood stained trench-coat over a skin-tight black jumpsuit with leaves and dirt in his hair, and Phichit who is Phichit. They both reek of alcohol.

(He mostly just widens his eyes at Yuuri. His breath catches in his throat. BA-THUMP, screams his heart, while his mind screams ohmygodit’shimwhatishedoingherehe’sadorableaseverIhopethat’snothisboyfriend.)

“Dun listen to ‘im, he’s a murderer,” Phichit slurs. His eyes reflect oddly in the dim lighting of the bar, like a cat’s. His antennas are wriggling.

“Imma good murderer,” Yuuri grumbles. He shoves a hand over Phichit’s mouth. “Shh, listen. Listen! Imma good guy and the dead man was not a nice man which is why he’s dead!” He shoves his other hand over Phichit’s head. “Stop movin’!”

“I canna help it!” wails Phichit. “I canna control ‘em!”

Yuuri giggles, letting go of Phichit to cover his face. The bartender, whose nametag reads VICTOR, shoves two cups at both of them.

“Here are your Piña Coladas,” he tells Yuuri. Yuuri wonders why his voice sounds so deep and why the bartender is smiling at him like this. He squints at him.

“Ya look kinda… familiar…”

The bartender gives a sparkly grin, and pulls at his tie. “D-do I?” He looks pleased.

They both get cut off from this line of conversation as Phichit spits his drink out. “GROSS,” he howls. He tears up, his eyes gaining a wet blue shine. “What’s happenin’ ta me? What didja do ta me? Who are ya? Who am I?”

Yuuri is not listening. He quickly downs his drink, wiping off his lips with the back of his hand when he’s done.

He strips off his gloves. Then his coat. Then he turns to the bartender and gives him a saucy wink.

“Wanna see my guns?” he purrs. “Victor.”

The bartender looks around wildly, but most of his customers are not paying attention to them as they are too busy wallowing in their own lives. There are a couple drunken people who are staring at them, but they are mostly staring at Phichit. “Um,” he says. His face is so pink that it looks like it’s glowing. He turns back to Yuuri and swallows thickly.

Yuuri licks his lips and stands up. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly raises his leg up and places it on the counter. He reaches down to the holster that is wrapped around his thighs.

“Oh,” the bartender says weakly. “You mean guns, literally.” He’s staring at Yuuri’s legs now, visibly sweating. (He misses the fact that there is something very obviously illegal going on his bar and instead feels a hint of disappointment.)

“Mmmhmm.” Yuuri pulls out a black handgun. “Beretta 90Two,” he says dreamily. He sets it down on the counter. Then he puts his leg down and starts to strip out of his jumpsuit.

–

“Oh my god,” Yuuri whispers the next day, after vomiting three times in the toilet. Phichit is snoring somewhere on his bedroom floor, covered in glitter and lipstick stains. Yuuri stares at him for a while and then sighs.

Okay, yeah. So aliens are real and now there’s one in his apartment. Whatever, what’s an alien compared to the time he slipped into Guantanamo Bay for a mission? Or the time he was caught in a power struggle between two mafia groups and Interpol? Or even the time he was kidnapped by a megalomaniac and had to pole-dance his way out? Now that was wild.

Besides, there are more pressing matters to attend to. So Yuuri cleans himself up as best as he can. He throws on some clean clothes and takes off his contacts, which feel like they have been crusted to his eyes. After grabbing his glasses, he walks outside and across the hallway and contemplates death.

He knocks instead.

A dog barks somewhere on the other side and then someone curses – there’s a crashing noise. A few minutes tick by with Yuuri growing ever more concerned, when the door finally opens, revealing his neighbor whose eyes are bloodshot and hair in a wild disarray. He’s still wearing his bartending uniform, only now it’s stained in various places.

“Hey Victor,” Yuuri says. “I am so sorry about what happened last night.”

Victor shuts the door in his face.

Yuuri stands there, stunned, as he hears what sounds like muffled screaming, but then the door opens again.

Victor leans against the frame, casually. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a mega-watt smile. “It was fun!”

Yuuri doesn’t really know what to say. He still kinda wants to go die in some ditch after humiliating himself in front of his attractive neighbor last night, but also because he may have outed himself and he really really really does not want to kill Victor, who is constantly running out of flour, sugar, or other miscellaneous baking/cooking ingredients. Yuuri has yet to taste a single non-alcoholic creation of Victor’s and Victor owes him after two years of begging off some sort of ingredient from him.

(Yuuri does not think about other reasons he may not want to kill Victor)

“Do you want to come over for breakfast?” he says instead and then blushes.

Victor brightens. “Yes!” he shouts and then coughs. “I mean, yes.”

–

Phichit – whose skin is now green, like actually green – runs into the kitchen where Yuuri has just finished making oatmeal and eggs.

“Everything hurts,” he warbles.

Yuuri sighs and shoves a glass of water at him. “Drink. Drink it all. Then go lie down.”

“Ugh.” He wobbles to the couch and collapses, sobbing of “war-mongering dirt people.” His antennas sway back and forth soothingly.

Victor, eyes wide, starts to yell.

–

Well, if Victor has finally noticed that there is something just a little different about Phichit, then Yuuri figures he’s probably safe for now.