#had to make a wis save and everything

[katiefratie]

Laudna leaves.....Imogen follows this time thank fuck,

[anqelically]

I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you with a lot of tecchou’s requests but I love him😭if you want, you can write annyone else too. May I request tecchou’s having a nightmare (like s/o being a cheater or dying, whatever you want) and then he wakes up and s/o is hugging him in her sleep (I’m so sorry for my bad English, was hard for me to request this ㅠㅠ)

they have nightmares about you headcanons

featuring...! tecchou suehiro, dazai osamu, ranpo edogawa & akiko yosano

content: no manga spoilers, comfort, dreams with blood and death, a little ooc to me (especially dazai's eww)

navi | bsd masterlist | pt.2

TECCHOU SUEHIRO

he chose to chase after the criminals, and that led you to be killed in his nightmare

tecchou felt strongly about justice, everyone that knew who he was knew that. so on missions, he was always sure to take care of criminals and save civilians

in his nightmare, things were getting rough on a mission. the two of you, the only ones working, were split up from each other. instead of making his way towards you, tecchou hunted down the leader of the crime organization on his own

you should’ve been alright as a fellow hunting dog. but in this situation, you became heavily injured. you were bleeding out for who knows how long when tecchou found you

“it’s okay,” you reassured him as you bled out, “we all make mistakes sometimes. this one… this one just happened to be a bit more troubling, haha.”

when he wakes up from this nightmare, you’re still sleeping peacefully next to him. he’s freighted, so what he does is try to wake you up. you look at him groggily once he does

i definitely think that tecchou’s facial expression would make it obvious that he was scared. his eyes are opened slightly wider and hand has a slight tremble as it holds your arm

“hey, tell me what’s wrong? did you have a nightmare?”

at your touch and voice, tecchou lets out a breath he had been holding in. the events replay in his mind before he tells you what happened

he places a hand over his heart once he realizes that telling you everything has helped him calm down. he knows you were listening to every word, and he appreciates not only that, but the fact that you were still there with him

“don’t leave me, y/n,” tecchou begged.

his slender fingers were intertwined with yours while he pulled them close to his chest. he had never been as scared of losing anyone that much until you came along. he was strong, and so were you, but loving you came with the natural fear of loss.

you promised, “i won’t. i won’t leave you, i swear.”

before you guys go back to sleep, he’ll fall into your arms and will become the little spoon. my bb just wants to be held after experiencing that nightmare :((

OSAMU DAZAI

he lost you in his nightmare

dazai says that he loses things he doesn’t want to lose, which made this dream— nightmare all too real

it was like reliving everything that happened with oda. you were already at death’s door when he arrived and as you walked past that door, his blood-stained arms held you

i don’t see dazai waking up to this nightmare screaming, crying, or even telling you about it. a silly nightmare was all it was, right?

but if he has that same silly nightmare constantly, then i imagine that he’d lose sleep over it. the nightmare was a reminder that you were someone important for him to lose. avoiding it meant sleeping less, or not even sleeping at all

not knowing the details, you were concerned about if he was sleeping well, or sleeping at all. you fall asleep before he does, but he seems to be wide awake when you just get up in the early morning

although he tried to be energetic around you like normal, it wouldn’t be long before he’d laze around as if something was clouding his mind

if you make the decision to confront him, dazai will surely play dumb at first

“work is just so tiring these days! kunikida won’t stop piling work on me~” a lie.

you only figure out he lied once kunikida calls you. since you don’t work at the agency, you’ve only talked with him and a few of the other members a few times

“thank you for calling me, kunikida-san. i appreciate it.”

you found yourself bowing to dazai’s co-worker while you all stood by the main office door. a few of the other members sat at their desks, either watching or minding their own business.

the blond called you to bring dazai, who had been constantly sleepy as of late, home. although he ignored the work he was given, he still managed to act exhausted instead of lazy like he normally would. if he wasn’t going to get anything done during the day, he might as well be sent home to rest.

dazai rubbed the back of his neck, thinking that his partner calling you to the agency was unnecessary. not only that, but his cover had been blown. once you finish talking with kunikida, you take dazai’s hand and walk with him to your shared apartment. it was a quiet walk from there to home.

the moment he’s inside, dazai will flop onto the couch. it takes a little bit of convincing to get him to talk about the repeating nightmare

he thinks he doesn’t need it at first, but comforting him actually affects him greatly. it lets him know that he has your support as he fights his own battles. please have him close so that he can put his hands on your waist and rest his head by the crook of your neck

“you can tell me anything,” you tell him. “there’s a lot about yourself you keep a secret, and that’s okay. i get that there are things you can’t find yourself to share, but this is something you have to. talking about these things are important, dazai. i don’t want you losing sleep over it, m’kay? just talk with me.”

to love and be loved is a curse— but even so, dazai couldn’t resist

RANPO EDOGAWA

you were set up to be killed and he didn’t realize until it was too late in his nightmare

as the greatest detective in the world, nothing seemed unbeatable to ranpo. though there have been some obstacles, there was always a way to win in the end. well, that’s what he thought

his sleeping mind toyed with him by placing you in a situation where there was no way for you to live. fyodor had set up a plan to kill you, a valuable asset to the agency, and it went right under ranpo’s nose

it obviously felt so real to ranpo. so if he wakes up and you aren’t with him in bed, he’s afraid that maybe everything wasn’t a nightmare. he scurries out of bed and to the first place you’d be

“come back to bed.”

sometimes, you’d find yourself wide awake in the middle of the night. it was a problem that settled down when you got together with ranpo, but still happened on a few occasions. whenever it did, you sat on the balcony of your shared apartment and read a book. if the weather was harsh, you’d read in your study.

you were surprised when ranpo suddenly told you to go back to bed with him. his voice was more pleading than you ever heard it to be, leading you to think something was wrong.

you shut the book in your hands, “hey… are you okay?”

i feel like ranpo would play it off as something stupid that he doesn’t even understand, but you know better. the two of you would have to be hugging in bed for him to tell you what happened. as he does, his hands grasp the back of your shirt and he buries his face into your chest

once he finishes, he already knows what you’re going to say. you wouldn’t let yourself fall into fyodor’s hands that easily, so he shouldn’t think about it

“stay in bed from now on,” ranpo suggested. “if you wake up, read your book here.”

“but what if you wake up?”

“doesn’t matter to me.” he’s shy to admit it, but, “you scared me…”

safe to say, ranpo prefers to have you by his side so he can hug you if he was to ever wake up from any nightmares (my bb <3 im so soft for him rn)

AKIKO YOSANO

you died before she could save you in her nightmare

yosano wasn’t sure how she got there, but she had been running for what seemed to be forever. the aching in her feet seemed all too real as she sprinted towards where you were

but once she found you, it was too late. your wounds were deep and your blood was everywhere. she tried to use her ability, but it was futile to even try. the butterflies of her ability appeared, but your heart just wouldn’t beat again

“y/n, please,” the woman cried.

it was happening all over again. that soldier… a kind soul that couldn’t carry the weight of war any longer. he was gone, and yosano tried so desperately to bring him back. now, you were in his situation— gone and never able to return.

she let out a scream, both in that nightmare and in real life. it obviously woke you up, and you were quick to respond by holding her forearms

once reality sets in and she realizes it was only a nightmare, yosano is quick to take a deep breath. as a doctor, she’s had to help calm down patients many times. she knows what to do in order to ease her own mind, yet it was harder to do that she thought

her lips trembled as the breaths she let out were short and shaky. even if you hold her, her fists are clenched. it takes a moment with you rubbing her back to calm her nerves

being with her means you know her past with mori during the war. if you knew all about that, then yosano will definitely be open about the nightmare

she immediately feels a sense of relief after telling you about it, but is still shaken up. yosano will embrace you and try to fall asleep in your arms, even if the image of your dead body keeps on popping up in her mind

“a nightmare,” you reassure her, “it’s just a nightmare. i’m right here, darling.”

note: hi nonnie!! literally request for tecchou all you want (when my requests are open), I'm absolutely here for it!! someone else requested something similar and i planned to put all the requested characters in one post, but it was a lot so I'm splitting it into two <3

reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !

@nagicore @enomane @er0ses @spenzitz @wineaddict2904 @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ashthemadwriter @sanjis-fav-w1fe @bejeweledgirl @ma3mae @piichuu

[matchadobo]

KIDD; hey, captain. may i have this dance?

wc: 2216 summary: where name, the only one who can make kidd blush, asks her captain to a dance and later elicit a confession out of him. warnings: fem reader, very fluff you'd actually melt, nothing too crazy or offensive, NOT PROOFREAD

"hey, captain. may i have this dance?"

it's like the devil made an entrance as everything went downhill when you finished talking. kidd was at a loss letting your words register in his brain. the grip on his mug tightened and it seemed like blood rose to his face. he started choking on thin air and began drumming on his chest.

while being in the middle of a conversation, you approached kidd with a soft smile and an inviting hand. the person he was talking to, killer, raised both eyebrows and averted his gaze from the two of you as he continued sipping on his wine. some of his crew mates sitting near him had heard it and started snickering.

it wasn't really anything new. you were always pretty affectionate to your captain, blatantly expressing your admiration every chance you get. you made it crystal clear that you're interested ever since the day you confessed, sober and intentional at that. kidd didn't reject you, nor accepted your confession. he just ruffled your hair and said, "yeah i know, buttercup.". which was more than enough for you to feel all sorts of butterflies inside.

it's not like you're expecting for him to return it, you just want to let it out. so you didn't act awkward about it. not for kidd though. when you start showing more love for him, he'd be a blushing mess and would curse you out. not that those curses mean something unpleasant, those are just empty words as defense to his emotions.

that's when you started personally sending him food, lots of them, to his workshop when he coops up in there fixing up some weapons for the crew or when he feels like tinkering. those are the times he'd genuinely feel your utter interest in the things he likes.

you'd always be his cheerleader and he loves it a little too much, but he never shows it; not that he's good at hiding it, his cheeks and behaviour are enough to tell you he anticipates it. when he prevails against an enemy, your words always usher that rhythm in his heart. or when he comes up with a new attack for his devil fruit and you want to see it first. and you two end up sparring.

and when you save his ass more than usual. you always watch his six more than the others, it's pretty unfair but it doesn't mean you let your crew mates get harmed. unfortunately, you just have bias. not that kidd needs it. but that one time he did, you kicked a knife aimed at his face and redirected it to his side. you saw the shift of shock to anger in his face, accompanied with a deep red tint on his cheeks.

like when you brush your arms or knees against his when you're seated together, because you always aim for a spot next to him and the crew respects that. and when you always pour him a drink, ordering for him and all that. you ask him what's wrong because he's always so red even with one mug of rum. he'll just grumble and chug even more rum.

but he never tells you how he feels about it, about you. and it's okay. you're content with him allowing you to love him. it's already a privilege to have the permission to love the most notorious.

so when you don that bandage dress in red he got you for the night, the cacophony in his surroundings was dulled. his blood pressure rose and his hands became sweaty as you stood there with the warmest gaze and an anticipating smile.

"a-ah, maybe it isn't your thing, right capta-"

he suddenly stood up, he doesn't know what prompted him to do it. he could just ignore you, snicker at you, or tell you how dumb it is. but he chose not to. if there's one thing kidd does to your feelings, he doesn't step on it. as oppose to others, so maybe he has a bias too.

he towered over you, a scowl scrunched up on his face as he looked down at you. a shocked expression soon changed with absolute joy was now evident on your face. he yanked your hand, only with a little force though, and pulled you closer.

"only for a while, aye?" he lowly whispered on your ear, tone demanding. "i don't really dance."

you were having a goddamn field day. your heart was in an impossibly fast marathon. you were smiling ear to ear, pulling away and looking up at him while nodding with joy. "come on?" you invited, gesturing to the dance floor that was now filled with couples slow dancing.

once you two stand before each other, in an awkwardly far distance. you giggled a little, noticing how he obviously doesn't know how to dance, especially slow dancing.

you reached over to his side to hold his hands, both human and metal. he was surprised, especially by your touch, by the way he stiffened up. but he let you guide him.

"your hands goes here." you placed them on your waist, "and mine goes here." you finished with a smile, placing your arms by either sides of his neck. "and we just sway and change positions on alternating foot. easy enough, yeah?"

he noticed that your eyes were especially radiant tonight, how you exceptionally worked on yourself with the make-up you put on. the ornaments in your styled hair complimented the color of your dress. how the chained, golden necklace he gave you as a 'dumb scrap he never uses and deems it trash' framed your neck and cascaded down your chest. how you smell way too expensive he coulda thought you were someone else. you were all different and it made him feel the same with you, except stronger.

"why are you staring? something off on my face?" you started growing conscious, your hand reaching over to touch your cheek but his human arm caught it and placed it back to where it came from.

"hands off, you might smudge your make-up." he tsked, "nothing off 'round here, short stack. 's quite the opposite actually."

"pft, what does that even mean?" you tilted your head, scanning his eyes for answers. but it's just you fangirling about the yellows that mesmerized you. "if you have time to spout nonsense, maybe think about not bumping on my foot." you rolled your eyes, glancing down at the movement of your shoes.

"ain't it your fault for haulin' a total amateur at this?" his voice raised a little, scowl deepening.

"hm? something so simple like this is giving you a hard time, captain?" you egged him on, and it's exactly what he needs to loosen up. a cocky smile on your face with one of your brows raised.

"oh, so you wanna be like that? this is another one of your games, huh?" he grinned, grip on you tightening as you successfully riled him up. "it's about time i win this thing then."

"win?" you were baffled, soon getting caught off guard from the way he spun you around with his human arm then pulled you closer with his metal one.

"let's switch it up this time, aye? i ain't always gotta be the one blushin', right?" he bent down your ear and whispered a little too huskily. it was a completely different side of him you haven't seen.

you were stunned. your hands was placed awkwardly on his chest, realizing it made you completely nervous and red. "quiet now, huh? come on, where's the loud name who refuses to shut up?" he looked down, grip on your waist tighter.

"w-what are you doing, kidd?" you stuttered, suddenly feeling cold. not sure what to do with yourself.

"dancin'. bet you liked that spin, didn'tcha?" a laugh rumbled on his chest.

"t-that was pretty good for a beginner." you mustered a smile, still hiding your face from the proximity. his metallic cologne more pungent in your nose, amplifying the rhythm of your already rabbiting heart.

"what do i say? i'm a damn natural!" he boasted. but soon notice that ever since that spin, you didn't bat him an eye. "oi, somethin' up?"

when you finally did, he melted right there. your brows were lightly furrowed, your face was entirely red as you chewed on your lip. "i-i'm sorry i was in too much joy from that, you were so, so handsome when you did that." you proclaimed, a hand covering your mouth as you shut your eyes.

a smile slowly spread on kidd's lips and a laugh ticked his throat, eventually bursting into laughter at your reaction. "such a fuckin' darling, you are. goddamn it." he had to clutch his knees from laughing so much, a tear falling down his eye. you soon started laughing too from his reaction.

from an outsider's perspective, you two looked like you two totally lost it.

as the laughter died down, it seems as if the surroundings did too. time felt slower and the crowd felt farther. then you felt him staring a little too long, as if he's watching you.

"i must've had too much to drink because i'm about to do somethin' so damn stupid right now." he pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing.

you tilted your head, puzzled once more. "what- hey!"

he grabbed your wrist and led you out of the ship. once you two are on the port where most of the crowd had died down.

"kidd, what's happening?"

he fished something out of his pocket and dangled a necklace with a tulip pendant before you. "see this?" you nodded. "it comes with a ring." he placed the ring by his palm with the similar pendant.

endeared by his display of trinkets he obviously made, you were more confused to admire it. "w-why are you showing me this?"

"because i had planned, a long fuckin' time ago, ever since you confessed that you like me, to do the damn same. and i was gonna give you these with a stupid fuckin' bouquet of tulips because... you said you love those damn things so much. m-my dumb hair reminds you of it." he was pausing between his words as he tried navigating the right terms. the port light helped you see how kidd was blushing and how his eyes looked everywhere but your way.

"but i didn't and i shouldn't. cuz you don't deserve any of this." he gestured to himself from head to toe. your heart broke and you want to interrupt him. but he has more to say. "you deserve someone who ain't out here killin', terrorizin' cities, and most importantly not an idiot who's too busy to chase one piece than to reciprocate your feelings." he sighed, the jewellery now obstructed and hidden in his fist.

"so, it hurts. to see you do all this for me. give me all that love. i'm startin' to think there's not enough for your stupid ass. cuz here i am, brushing you off for you to, hopefully, grow tired of me. and start findin' a man to treat you better."

the alcohol was legit too fucking strong, because sober kidd would NEVER admit this even at gunpoint.

"bah, this is too embarrasing and stupid. you had to witness you captain in a pathetic stat- ow!" you couldn't contain it anymore and decided to slap him to wake him the fuck up.

"with your cowardice, it sure as hell is pathetic of you, kidd." you replied, voice coated in irritstion. he looked at you with fiery eyes as he stroked the slapped spot on his face.

"i can't believe my captain would say any of that bullshit! you're so fucking dumb, god!" you stomped by the wooden boards, completely vexed.

kidd had no choice but to just stand there. awaiting your next course of actions.

"you plan on getting the one piece as a coward?! hah?!" you pointed at him. "what makes you think i'll choose someone else over a fucking unit like you?!"

"you think so, huh?" he replied, ego getting brushed.

"i'm fucking sure so! i thought i had made it clear that i'm totally, with every fiber of my being, in love with you." you crossed your arms.

"but all i've done is react passively, that ain't-"

you shut him up by pulling on his collar and crashing your lips with his. sucking on his lips before he opened up to his tongue, tasting the rum. he moaned through your lips, prying open your mouth too. his human arm getting handsy with you, feeling up the bareness of your back and the shape of your torso. your hands then traveled on his neck to hold him firmly, the roughness of his scars brushing by your fingers.

you two soon ran out of breath and pulled away. he then took his time squeezing you a little closer to his body, lips soon pressed on the coldness of your bare shoulders. you leaned your head on his shoulder, reveling on his scent and proximity.

"of all the times we got drunk together, all you needed was a dance to come with it so you can let the crazy out in you." your breath tickled his neck.

"just need that one lil push from your sweet ass."

ASJSAJSJAJASJS I DIED AND RESURRECTED

[minniesmutt]

♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐀 

♱ ━━━ CONTENT: MENTION OF DRUGS, ALCOHOL, VIOLENCE, PRISON, THERAPY MENTIONS, MORE OF A FILLER CHAPTER, WET DREAM, COCKWARMING, GRINDING, PET NAMES, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ♱ ━━━ WC: 1K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: FELIX X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

     Information was always easy for Felix to find. Everything was on the internet. Everything was put into databases. Police files, card info, medical information, everything. It was such easy access.

     From day one, Felix was already looking into Y/n, even before Minho asked him. He knew they didn’t find anything at her old apartment. So to the internet, he went. Checking her social media first. The fabricated life people selectively chose to put out. 

     Most photos were with friends. Trips, clubs, drinks, anything. Normal twenty-something-year-old behavior. Moving on to her friend’s profiles, it was the same story. Looking into them first.

     Seana was clean essentially. She had no issues with the law and worked a good job to keep herself afloat. Posted about her friends just like Y/n. Nothing was an issue with her. Karina had a bit of a record; driving under the influence, hit and runs, possession of illegal drugs. She had a job but more of a part-time thing. Nothing that really helped support the lifestyle she wanted to portray online.

     Looking into the family was next. From what he gathered and found out from reports, her dad hadn’t been in her life since she was young and was in jail on the other side of the country. There were no records of calls to anyone since his incarceration. Pretty content with rotting away in the system. Multiple times considering he had a bit of a history of being released and getting back in months later. 

     Her mom had passed away a few years ago. Coroners report stating a mix of drugs and alcohol. Grandparents having passed away or lived elsewhere in the country. Y/n essentially had no family from what Felix could tell. He felt a little bad for her, being on your own like that could hurt.

     Checking through medical records were next on the list. The first thing he noticed was notes from therapy sessions. Becoming very interested, he made his own copy of the notes and saved it onto his computer before he heard the elevator ding.

     “Felix?” He heard Y/n’s voice call.

     “Yeah?” He called back as he minimized the windows and pulled up some other things he had been looking into for Chan.

     Y/n walked into his little home office as he turned around in his chair. Sitting in his loungewear— a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt— as she made her way over to him.

     “What’s up, princess?” Felix asked as she made her way over to him.

     “Just a bit bored, figured I come bug you,” Y/n said as he pulled her onto his lap.

     “Keep me company while I work then, yeah?”

     “Can do,” Y/n smiled as he spun the chair around back to his screens.

     Y/n wrapped her arms around him and listened to his keyboard taps and mouse clicks. It was soothing to listen to honestly. Lulling her back into sleep on top of the blonde’s lap. 

     Felix noticed her asleep a few minutes later, gently rubbing her back before pulling her medical files out again. Reading through it, a few things jumped out at him. Trust issues, compulsively lying, unwilling to work through trauma.

     Felix emailed the notes he thought were most important to Chan but kept reading. 

     “Client has mentioned early life with mother but not much. Briefly mentioned biological mother being under the influence often and redirecting anger onto the client.”

     “Client laughs when explaining a core event in her life.”

     “Clients says alcohol intake has gone down; was previously using to cope.”

     Felix kept reading. He could make guesses now why she chose to stay with them. Given her family history, maybe some lack of attention growing up caused her to seek it from anywhere in her adult life. Now, she had eight men ready to do that at any time of the day. 

     Being a liar could be useful to them. But it made him wonder; only one friend had been caught by law enforcement and charged. The other one was clean from head to toe. Y/n seemingly had a history of issues— using to cope could mean getting into some trouble. But nothing. 

     But she seemed so unphased by the eight being gangsters. Maybe she’d never been caught? Maybe she was clean? It was a little difficult to tell. 

     Felix reclined back into his chair and wrapped his arms around Y/n. He gently rubbed her back as he took in the information. He knew Chan had a plan from the beginning of this arrangement, but he also had a feeling this information was going to give him a bit more of an idea to use her.

     Felix chuckled a bit to himself as he went back to some other tasks. “Lix,” Y/n mumbled

     “Yes, princess?” He asked looking down at her. Her eyes still closed but little moans came out of her as she subtly grinded on him.

     “Silly girl,” Felix said as he moved his hands down to her ass and pulled her closer, kissing the side of her head, “Y/n.” He said

     “Mhm?” She asked, moving her head to hide in his chest.

     “Having a fun little dream?” Felix teased

     “Yes.”

     “Want some help?”

     “Please.”

     Y/n was happy she was just wearing panties and one of the boy’s t-shirts. Made it easier for him to move his sweatpants and boxers down and push her panties to the side. Lining his tip up with her entrance and slowly sank her down onto him. Y/n moaned as her walls stretched for him till he was fully inside of her.

     “Feel so good,” Y/n muttered into his chest.

     “Yeah? Think you just like having a cock in you princess,” Felix got back to work. Y/n held onto him tightly as she slowly started to grind herself against him.

     “Gonna use me to make yourself cum?” Felix asked, his baritone voice going straight to her core.

     “Please lix,” Y/n whined

     “Go ahead, princess. Just know I get to use you to cum later.”

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[deceitfuldevout]

Mercy (Part 2)

Dark!Tommy Shelby x Enemy!Reader

Word Count: +3,576

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Kidnapping, Hostage situation, Manhandling, Mind break, Threats of violence, Murder, Mentions of past character death, Gore, Physical violence, Forced intrusion, Humiliation.

Author's note(s): Going to try and write more. Been a busy bee recently.

Tommy knew your parents would be looking for you. He needed to bring you somewhere no one would suspect. Not even his family. They'd given him space to mourn for Ruby. As they all did. Tommy had kept them oblivious to the underground war. This was between him and your clan. He owns a plot of land near the countryside. It's half an hour away from the city, far enough so that no one would follow.

He used to bring the children out here during the summer. What was once a special place in his heart, became a haunting reminder of what life could've been. He would've kept you in town had it not been for the constant eyes and ears. For now, it was best that you'd stay here until he's sorted everything out. It was decided, this would be your new home until further notice. But he doesn't want to make this comfortable in any way. You weren't a hostage--no, his property.

He can do whatever the fuck he pleases, because this version of Tommy, had no limitations. He clicks the trunk open, reaches in to grab your quivering form. He drags you out of the car, hauling your weak body over his shoulder. He effortlessly carries you to the hideout. It's a small shed, located right in the backyard of his summer home. Tommy kicks the door open. Almost ripping it from the hinges. As soon as you were inside he lets you fall with a 'thud'. Your head is throbbing. You couldn't see anything in the darkness. Only the silhouette of the man who had taken you.

As soon as you spot the gangster, the first thing you do is crawl back, holding both hands in front, and plead, "Please...please let me go, I-I promise I won't tell...j-just--please," your throat was sore from the hours of screaming, crying, begging for mercy. Your pleas were deaf to Tommy's ears. He stands there, stating back at your quivering form. There wasn't an ounce left in him that felt bad. To him, you were only collateral. An eye for an eye.

His presence is enough to intimidate anyone. You don't bother looking at him in the eyes, afraid of being trapped under his gaze. There are two rules you were taught about gangsters: The first rule was to never go near one, the second was to never look one in the eyes. Not unless you were looking for a fight.

He steps forward, enjoying the sight of you cowering in fear. His eyes are as cold as ice You sob, "P-please god..."

Tommy raises his brows, “God?” he scoffs, “You think it was him that led you here?” he shook his head, "No, it was me, I ordered them to take you, because I can," a long pause follows, "You were picked up from church, yeah? So tell me, what did you pray for?"

"T-to...to find a good man," your teeth chatter. His grin doesn't reach his eyes, "And that led you to me," he chuckles. Your parents kept you sheltered from the big-bad gangsters of the city. But little did you know you were raised by one. The irony of it all. Poor thing, you never imagined being taken, especially not by someone like himself.

He crouches down, "Tell me...what will you pray for now, hm? For someone to save you?" he taunts. His hand hovers to your collar, wrapping itself around your neck. He gives it a slight squeeze, "Tell me, what will you do if I were to bend you over right now?"

Tommy wants to break you. He wants to break your mind, your body, your soul. He wants to break the little faith you have left, and from that he'll build you to his liking. You would be his obedient pet. You answer, "Nothing..." blinking back tears. His thumb swipes a tear, "Good, you're a fast learner," he pats your head, brushing a few strands from your face.

He wants to make it clear, "I own your body now, I own you," he stands up, "From now on this will be your new home, you can forget about your old life," he then retrieves his watch, inspecting the time. He shuts it, shoving it into his coat pocket before leaving. Tommy ignores your cries, "Please...don't leave me here! Mr. Shelby! Please!"

Even in your condition, you still manage to limp. You try to reach for the door. Before you could make it, Tommy slams it shut. He locks it from the other side. Both your fists bang at the door, "I've done nothing wrong! Please! Don't leave me here!" falling against it as a deep sob escapes your throat. Tommy knows it was useless to yell. There would be no one from miles around.

Tommy and his men left for the city. When he spots a river on the roadside. He decides that now would be the best time to confront them. See, nothing with Tommy Shelby was a mere coincidence. He had chosen these men specifically, after finding out they'd stolen from his company. So, he makes it work in his favor. Two birds with one stone.

Tommy had been waiting for the right moment to finish off the traitors. First he orders them take the girl, then he'll take out those thieving bastards. Any witness statements would be useless with Tommy left as the only living suspect. All for a crime that may or may not have occurred. According to his story, Tommy had been in the office at the time of your disappearance. No one else could object to that. He knows that his family would be there to defend him.

He orders his men to park on the side of the road for a quick smoke break. He made sure to count how many of them had exited the vehicle. He doesn't light up his cigarette until he's sure all them were present. Only then does he lights up his cigarette. He distracts them with a tale. All of the men now rest on the side of the road. One of the men jokes about how they should share Tommy's new pet.

He doesn't take too kindly to that idea. It was at that moment when he returns to the car. When the men least expect it, he fires a round of stray bullets. He stares coldly as their lifeless bodies drop to the floor. Tommy dumps them into the river, returning to the city alone.

He made sure to avoid any suspicion by returning to his office. Acting as if nothing had happened. Word will spread, and the last thing he needs is his family breathing down his neck. He rummages through the office, finding any work to complete. As soon as he sits down, he can't help but smile. He thinks about how easy it was to bend you into submission. Had your parents really not prepare you for this?

Tommy remembers your first ever encounter. It was in your father's office just a few months ago. You unknowingly barged into the room with a tray in hand. Completely oblivious to what was happening. You were only focused on serving the men tea. A word he would use to describe you is obedient, submissive. Something he wouldn't mind having a taste of.

As soon as your father spots you, he halts everything. He cuts the meeting short to drag you out. No daughter of his would be caught in the same room as a gangster. He'll be damned if he lets a dirty peaky near her. Poor thing, you assumed it was your fault. Barging in while the men were at work, completely oblivious to the true nature of their meetup. He swore you were taunting him with that innocent look.

You still thought he, Tommy Shelby, was worth saving. You begged him not to do it, as if he were some fucking saint. That made it all the more worthwhile as he filled your cunt to the brim. He fucked you full of his filthy gangster seed. Until there was a small puddle of cum and crimson dripping from both holes. He had left a trail of bruises that littered your unblemished skin. He bit, teased, and bruised wherever he could reach. Who was there to stop him?

Tommy palms the growing tent in his pants. He relishes in the remembrance. He could still feel your nails digging into his skin. On his wrist, all over his chest and back. How you tried to fend him off. But in the end it was useless. He's a former veteran and you're just a spoiled heiress. A hand grazes on the small cut on his cheek you'd given him earlier, he'll make sure you pay for that dearly.

He's going to enjoy feeling of your tight cunt again. How you were squeezing his girth, almost as if it were on purpose. Your choked sobs for him to stop, as he darted his tongue out to taste those fresh tears. When your whimpers would change depending on how fast and hard he'd thrust his hips. How his nails dug into the flesh of those soft, supple hips, leaving small crescent cuts. And oh, how he loved to hear you scream.

Your whimpers were music to his ears. Like a melody he wanted to play over and over again. Fuck…he'll have to plan another trip to the countryside, and soon. You gave him a sense of power, immunity. Something that Tommy hadn't felt in long time. Not since losing his Ruby. He became a shell of the man he once was. Never in his life had he felt so weak, so hopeless. Lost.

But now? Your parents won't even think about touching him. This would be a secret kept between him and the other clan. His family doesn't have to know. If your parents decide to try anything, he'll make sure to send them more than just a napkin.

You couldn't sleep that night. Despite each hour feeling longer than the next. How could you after what happened? You felt as though your sanity were slipping away. Most of the night would be spent either attempting to break the door open or crying to yourself. Both of your fists went numb from the hours spent slamming them against wood.  

There were visible blisters that littered your hands. Small droplets of crimson from the open wounds. Faint scratch marks decorate the door. It didn't help being the dead of winter, only adding more pain to your bruising. You wince from the cold, dry air seeping into the open wounds. Still, it wasn't comparable to what he had done. 

A deep feeling of dread starts to sink in. Suddenly realizing the weight of what had happened. You were kidnapped, assaulted, paraded by one of the worst criminals in all Birmingham. The worst part was it only took him a few hours to break you. That man, that...gangster, had taken your virginity. How on earth were you going to tell your parents? Did anyone else know? If so, it would ruin any chance of ever finding a good husband. This wasn't just any gangster, he's the worst of them all. A Peaky Blinder.  

You began to tear up. Something like this would break their hearts. There were many stories passed around of young women being victims of bridal kidnapping. They would escape their abductors and return home. Only to be sent back by their own family. These poor women would have no other choice but to marry their abductors. Although both of your parents were traditional, surely, they wouldn't do the same thing...would they? A wave of dread starts to flood your nerves. Deep down, you were too afraid to find out.  

You try switching positions until you find one that was comfortable enough to lay in. Now splayed against the cold hard ground. It hurts too much to sit up. Your throat is sore from the hours of abuse. You were much too tired to yell, the dreaded thought of his return consumed all senses. You could only sit in silence, trying your best not to think of anything to stop crying. A part of you was certain that there were no tears left in you to spill. 

Suddenly, the door opens. You scurry as far away from the entrance as possible. As soon as he enters there's a powerful aura in the air. He reeked of danger. You refuse to look at him, not out of defiance but out of fear. For the first time in your life, you were genuinely terrified. Your eyes are focused on the floor as your body crumples into submission. Each step he takes his powerful, echoing throughout the shed. His feet were settled on the spot where you were staring. There was something in his hand. You couldn’t tell what it was until he placed it on the ground.  

It was a plate of sludge-like food. Something that was half thought of, with a cup of water on the side. Your mouth starts to water at the sight. It had been almost two days since you’ve eaten anything. Tommy wanted to make sure you were still alive. Otherwise, the deal would be off with your parents. You could only focus on the plate on the floor, tuning everything else out. All attention went to the dish. He says something but you don't quite catch what it was.  

Suddenly a hand grips your hair, pulling it into a tight hold. You whine from the pain, both hands shooting up to where his wrist was. As much as you tried to pry his fingers off, it was futile trying to remove the iron hold. He's a retired soldier, a decorated war veteran. You were only an heiress, sheltered from all worldly dangers. You look up at him with pleading eyes, now sheer with fresh tears, "P-please..." begging for him to stop. His grip tightens, "What did I say about speaking?" your pained expression doesn't falter him, not one bit.  

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, so let me refresh your memory,” he tugs until you're forced to look him in the eyes. He growls, “I own you, mind, body, soul, every part,” he reaches for your neck, giving it a squeeze. He dips his fingers in your mouth, gripping the inside to pry it open, "This is mine to use," he pulls you up by the arm with little effort, his other hand finds its way in between both legs. When your hands try to shoo it away the grip around your neck tightens. He reaches in between your legs, rubbing up and down the clothed slit, "This cunt...mine,"  

You shook your head vigorously, tearing up at his remark. He clicks his tongue, "Sh...sh... that's not gonna help you," both his hand hold the sides of your head. It felt like you were suffocating in his embrace. He looks you in the eyes, “The life you once had is gone now,” which only twists the knife deeper, “I own you, every part of you,” his hands glide from your neck down to your bare shoulders.  

Tommy gives them a light shove, just enough to send you to your knees. His hands retreat to his belt, unfastening the buckle before letting his pants slide down. He wants to start training as soon as possible, “I’m going to break you...bend you in my own image,” Tommy doesn’t waste any time releasing his manhood from its bindings.

He tugs it a few times, enjoying the petrified look on your face. To say he enjoyed it was an understatement. Tommy took joy in watching you break. He couldn’t help but smirk as soon as the tears began to spill. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you to face his leaking member.  

He taps the tip of his cock against your cheek, enjoying the way you try to retreat. He pulls back his coat, revealing a gun resting in its holster. A warning of what would happen should you fight him. You shut your eyes, imagining being anywhere else but here. You force your lips to part. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He starts bucking his hips back and forth. He hisses, trying to find the right angle, "M'gonna cum...gonna shoot a fat load down your throat...want you to feel it in your fucking stomach,’  

Tommy fastens his pace, he’s close. So, fucking close. Hearing your muffled cries was music to his ears. Then it came, Tommy presses his cock deep inside, holding your head in place as he quickens his thrusts. Sweat collects on his forehead despite the cold weather. When he retrieves his cock a small trickle of cum and spit escapes. You cough out his spunk still trapped in your throat. A small puddle forms on the ground, right between his feet. He had been enjoying this a bit too much, "You'll have to practice on that mouth of yours," he teases.  

But that wasn’t the end of it, no. Shortly after Tommy decided that another round was due. Then another, and another. He ignored every muffled cry that escapes your lips. He wanted to paint you with it. No, he wants to drown you in his seed until you're thanking him.

Five, five rounds of Tommy fucking your mouth. Each round ending in him cumming on a new place. He had emptied load after load, making sure to paint you with it. There was spunk all over your hair and face. It was repulsing, being covered in a stranger's finish. After a while he lets you rest. When you notice him retrieving his discarded coat, you sigh with relief. It was finally over. Your emotions get the best of you, crying not from the abuse, but that it was finally over.

Then Tommy does the unimaginable. He strides over to your plate. Jerking off his cock before finishing the sixth round on the food. He tucks himself in now satisfied with the work done, "Eat up," he says before leaving you alone in the cold darkness. You of all people should know by now, Tommy's cruelness had no limits.

While you were gone, your home had changed for the worse. During the past few days, what was once a warm-felt home became a mourning ground. Your mother had spent most of her free time was at the window seat, praying for your return. What was once a home filled with laughter and joy became a cold reminder that you were gone. Taken from her safe arms. A part of her regrets ever leaving your side. If only she weren't so busy entertaining others. Then maybe her sweet girl would still be here.

She sniffles, pressing a hand against the cold glass. She blames herself for not looking after you, her pride and joy. Ever since you were taken, she had barely slept or eaten. It began to worry the maids, who then informed your father. She could still her you calling for her. It had been carved into her mind, and killed her not being able to do a thing about it. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? More tears spill, flowing down her cheeks.

Your father couldn't stand the sight of his dear wife's tears. He could barely sleep knowing that he was the reason behind it. All because of his lineage. He had tried his best at hiding a double life. He never wanted to drag his girls into this. Your father tried his best to hide it, he really did. Your mother was the preacher's daughter, who unknowingly married a gangster. Naïve and innocent to the evils of this world until she met him.

He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "Don't worry my diamond," wiping away the fresh tears, "I promise you, I'll bring our girl back..." he leaves her for his 'office', where the men await for his orders. Unlike his wife, he isn't as forgiving. He had gouged out an eye from the man in charge of keeping an eye on you. But after receiving Tommy's message, he made sure to plant a bullet right in between the man's empty sockets.

If it's a war the Shelby brother wants, it's a war he'll have.

After washing the blood from his hands and face, he makes his way to the bedroom. His wife is still perched on the seat of the window frame, staring longingly outside. He accompanies her, now sat besides her. He's guilt ridden. She whispers something he doesn't quite catch, until another mumble escapes her lips, "My fault..." 

how? How on earth could someone as precious as his diamond do any wrong?

"I c-can't forgive myself for--"

"No, no my love, this isn't your fault..." He pulls her into his arms, rubbing small circles into her back. He wipes the tears from her cheeks, holding her closely. He'll tear this city apart if it meant finding you. This is a city plagued and ruled by gangsters. You of all people didn't deserve it and he has only himself to blame. Whatever that sick bastard had done he promise to do worse. Until he's begging to be put out of his misery.

But what the mobster doesn't know, is that Tommy Shelby yearns for sweet death.

[hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha]

Happy Wife, Happy Life.

Hantengu clones x Fem!Reader [Yandere-Angst-Fluff]

Part one.

Dividers by Saradika

Dividers by Saradika

Synopsis: Another punishment causes her to finally go cold with her 'beloveds'. They finally know what has been bubbling up inside of her after the many harsh punishments given to her.

Warnings: Possessiveness (duh), gaslighting(?), manipulation, coddling, isolation, monophobia, stalking, reader loses her shit at them, ANGST, more suffering! :D

Requested by: luvcOree

Ps: I didn't notice that my tumblr auto updated and I had saved this on schedule only to find out that I couldn't edit it, so I had to delete the whole thing and rewrite it only to find out later that you could edit the post 😭 so that's why I have to reset to this- I'M SORRY

Y/N inhaled deeply before timidly asking him the question. "May I go spend some time with my family for today? I promise I'll be home early! I just... want to see them. It's been too long..." To Y/N, this was nothing more than a simple request and perhaps even a reward for having been the obedient wife they wanted and giving them all an equal amount of attention, keeping them all satisfied. To the Hantengus however, this was a question they all dreaded. Their dear wife asking to go outside, even more so to visit someone? What was wrong with staying home? They provide her with everything she needs, get her everything she asks for one way or another. What more does she want? Cowardly as the demon may be, he could not let his dear go. Not the one who he knows believes in his innocence. Not the one he needs. "N.. No... You can't! W-What if you get hurt and.. and I'm not... there?" "But it's just my family! I'll just be there for today and nowhere else! Please, let me go visit them!" But the wife was desperate. She doesn't ask much of neither him or the clones, much less Zohakuten, who she knows is more strict and harsh. Y/N does as she is told, stays home where she is safe and gives them attention.

Even Urami and Zohakuten on the rare occasions they reveal themselves. Y/N is a good wife, never asks for anything, but this time, she was desperate. She even said that she'll be home before dusk. But the husbands, they disagree. She cannot leave. She'd be out of their sights, vulnerable, in danger. They cannot risk their lovely wife dying, the risk is too grave. "No! You c-cannot go! You'll... You'll get hurt!" What would he do without her? What they do without her? All he would offer is to stay home and spend some time with him which she reluctantly agreed to. Y/N wasn't happy. She could never be happy. Her family! She needs to see them at least once after having left without much of a valid explanation.This morning was no different from the others except for a little bit of harsh weather. Y/N was simply cooking for herself while also being deep in thought. She's been thinking about her family for some time now, especially her sibling. She's been missing her mother and father dearly and it's been eating up at her for too long, she can't take it anymore. After having finished making herself her meal, the woman took a deep, nervous breath and left for the dark room her husbands stayed during daytime.

Walking up the stairs, Y/N was certain that they had already heard her since she was in the kitchen and by the time she arrived, they were all in the darkest corners of the room, or in this case, he was. "Dear?" He was quick to flinch at the mere sound of her voice, but that was just him in general which did not surprise Y/N in the slightest. Hantengu, the main body of the clones, was currently the only one present due to the clones not being seperated. They often stayed merged together with Hantengu to avoid the sun and only revealed themselves at night. This gave Hantengu time to spend with her since his clones would all simply want her attention to themselves (if you like the clones, love him too beuz they're all the same person). "Y.. Yes?" The demon answered timidly to his wife as she entered the room, closing the shōji door behind her.

If they wouldn't let her see them once, then she'll go herself with or without their permission.

For the entire day until dark, Y/N was with Hantengu and didn't really do much. She did have some surprisingly pleasant conversations (and with his constant complaining of the evil around him and that he is an innocent demon), cuddled with him the same way she would with the clones, took a day nap and so on. However, while she was a sweet and loving wife towards him, she was waiting for him to leave in search for humans to eat and to find the Blue Spider Lily for his master. Soon, evening would arrive and Hantengu would go out for his hunt and mission leaving Y/N alone until he would return. She watched him shrink and leave through the dark forest of where their shared home is located. When she was sure she was alone, she too would leave. Y/N would pack her delicious sweets for her parents and sibling before then leaving her home.

After almost forty five minutes of travelling by foot, Y/N finally made it to the home of her parents. luckily for her, her sibling was there as well. Running up to the door excitedly, Y/N knocked and waited for one of her family members to open for her. Eventually, all would go as she had hoped. Y/N managed to see her parents after so long, caught up with her sibling and would finally be able to spend some time with them after not having seen them in so long. She laughed, she conversed, she cooked with her father/ mother, played with her sibling like children once more knowing that Hantengu would return at midnight. But that wasn't the case this time.

___

The clones were beyond furious that their wife was not where they had left her. They were all lucky enough to have returned home early after successfully killing demon slayers and humans, but another unsuccessful scavenge for the Blue Spider Lily. The entire ordeal had left them all irritated as usual and they simply wanted to be comforted by the loving embrace of their betrothed only to find out that she wasn't there. Sekido yelled and threw a fit, as expected from the clone of anger, and in a desperate attempt to have her back, he forcefully fused. The only reasons the others did not have a problem with Sekido's rather daring stunt is of course for none other than Y/N. Once Zohakuten was formed and Urami had revealed himself, both clones immediately went for the search of their beloved wife. They immediately knew where she was anyways and she would return by choice or by force.

___

Both clones watched from afar as Y/N laughed loudly with a person who they assume is their sibling. Neither of them could believe she would ever do such a thing despite having been told that she wasn't allowed to go! Both would soon close in on the home of where she was, but would keep their distance. Zohakuten would hit one of his drums and would command one of his wooden dragon heads to close in and for Y/N to return. He was still quite furious at the fact that she left despite having been told not to and Urami even more so. It wouldn't be long before Y/N noticed a strange piece of wood moving and eventually realise who it was. Soon, she would bid her family farewell and leave as they hoped she would. Without wasting any more time, she went to the forested area where Urami and Zohakuten stood and would timidly approach. Zohakuten gave her a steely glare and simply pointed towards his wooden dragon head while Urami would already begin his scolding. "How dare you leave! You had us all worried sick! Did we not tell you that you could not visit your family? You could've gotten hurt or worse! Do you know how much it would've broken us if you did?" That is all she heard until she arrived home.

Urami carried her inside and placed her down before shrinking back to Hantengu, who began to bawl his eyes out. Zohakuten eyed Hantengu for a moment with pity before returning his intimidating gaze back to her. "How dare you leave me, woman. Have you no shame? I thought you were hurt!" Zohakuten continued to go off angrily at Y/N, blaming her for his anxiety and worry. Being the foul-mouthed boy he is, he cursed in his sentences. "You ungrateful wench! This time, punishment will be longer and harsher! You want to disobey me? Fine! I've been too lenient with your behavior!" Said the boy while dragging her by the wrist to the solitary room. "I'm sorry! I just wanted to-" "Silence! I won't hear it!" The door to her punishment once again opened as Zohakuten then so rudely shoved her into the room, this time without a candle before slamming and locking the door shut. "No... No!" Begging would get her nowhere. Not this time.

"Sweet thing... You've disappointed me."

"When we tell you something, you listen. You will regret disobeying us."

"My little songbird, I thought we had an agreement!"

"... Perhaps a harsher treatment shall remind you not to disobey us again, dewdrop."

And it starts again.

But she didn't beg this time. Perhaps a few tears, but Y/N didn't beg nor did she scream or cry. It dawned on her that perhaps they truly don't care for her feelings and only their own. Perhaps they are selfish monsters who only want to hurt her for their own amusement. At least, that's what their wife began to think. Y/N dragged her futon to the corner and made herself comfortable (as comfortable as she could get in a cold, dark and solitary room), simply staring up at the ceiling in the pitch black room deep in thought of the husbands she loved so much. Before long, the woman fell asleep with a new hatred for her husbands.

The punishment went on for three days instead of the usual two hours. Three entire days of no social interaction, not a word from them and almost no food or water as well. The clones truly did consider depriving her of human necessities, but Urogi had convinced them to be more merciful on their poor wife, having convinced them that she would learn her lesson.

The end of her punishment had arrived. It was over and the clones couldn't wait to hear her say that she had learned her lesson. That she would be a good wife and admit that she will be home where it's safe. That she'll apologise for her misbehaviour. But no, that's not what happened. The clones were absolutely shocked at her behavior when they finally let her out of the room. She was irritable, scornful and suddenly sharp-tongued almost as if someone had flipped a switch and changed her personality entirely. She didn't even want to be in his same room as them, much less have them look at her. Even Sekido began trying the gentle treatment to get closer to her, but that didn't work. "Dewdrop... What happened to her... This isn't the woman I married..." Aizetsu's sapphire coloured eyes began tearing up as he thought of her disrespectful behavior. Y/N would spout hurtful comments at them and express her hatred towards them as if they had hurt her in some way and Aizetsu, he hated that very much. It made him quite sad.

"How dare she speak to us that way!" Sekido growled angrily while thinking of her new behavior towards them. Karaku and Urogi stayed mostly silent about the situation, thinking of what could've happened for her to act like this (hm, I wonder why). They would all continue to discuss among themselves, trying to figure out a way to get closer to her without being met with scorn. "It doesn't matter if either three of us say it, she won't believe us. She'll just shove us away and continue with this." Urogi argues while looking at Sekido. It is true, any apology from either Karaku or Urogi would sound fake and from Aizetsu would sound merely like something to ease her hard feelings. "He's right, you know..." Karaku mumbles quietly while playing around with his uchiwa. Aizetsu knew Sekido would have a huge problem with apologising since he finds it pathetic for someone such as himself, and considering the emotion he is, he would absolutely refuse due to his pride and brash personality. "I already told you fools, I'm not going to apologise!" "Then how do you want her to trust us again, Sekido? If we want our dear back, we have to apologise." Said the relaxed clone in a rather stern tone. Karaku would be the last clone to ever speak in such a stern and serious tone due to his mischievous behavior, but there were times even he knew when it was needed.

He got up from where he said and got face-to-face with his older self, staring at him with a blank expression. "You do it. You'd be the most convincing out of all of us. That or we risk losing her, because then, we'd have to move to measures that we would all like to avoid for her sake." Sekido knew exactly what Karaku meant, he wasn't stupid. If they let her continue this, she would grow more reckless and rebellious, and they couldn't risk that. The vexed clone huffed reluctantly, acknowledging the fact that what his clone stated was indeed correct. He, out of every clone, is least likely to apologise and admit that he was wrong. It's a rather stupid solution in his eyes, but the one that they've come up with currently and they will act on it.So, with a deep breath and some preparation from his clone brethren, he walks to the room where his lovely wife is to apologise.

"Y/N-" "You again? I told you not to even look at me, you disgusting demon!" Those hurtful comments irked him, yes, but if he wanted to get on her good side again, he would have to swallow his pride and apologise like a mature adult. "What do you want from me? Just looking at your hellish eyes makes me sick! How did I even fall in love with you?" Her crude comments continue to flow freely and uncensored as if he were a mere stranger to her. The woman didn't even give him a chance to speak which led him to approach her in the blink of an eye, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Will you let me speak, woman?" Sekido asked and as usual, his snappy tone seemed to slip through. This did not come off well to the wife, as she merely continued to berate him and his clones. Finally, Sekido lost it and yelled at her, shutting her up for the moment. "LISTEN TO ME. I..."

It was a struggle trying to utter those embarrassing words. A demon doesn't apologise, much less an Upper Moon! How dare she make him seem like a fool! How dare she make him be so- so... so weak! This wasn't how things were supposed to be! But... Sekido will play nice, for now, suck it up and apologise. "I'm... sor... I..." Sekido huffs again while interally cursing at himself for being so pathetic. ["It's just a damn sentence...!"] His monstrous grip tightens, but he remembers to tone it down for her fragile human body. After almost a minute of struggling to get out a simple sentence, Sekido does it. It was the simple thought of Y/N leaving him that pushed him to do so. What would they do without her? Who would calm him down when he would have one of his rage fits? Who would Karaku tell his hunts and mission to? Who would keep Aizetsu from sulking? Who would preen Urogi's wings? Who would love him?

There was no one like you. Not in their demented eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Her expression immediately went from annoyed and hateful to shocked and confused. Sekido apologising? What possessed him to do such a 'shameful' act? "I... Understand that what we did to you was too far... My dear wife." It was rough at first, but soon, the words flowed out flawlessly. "My dear wife, I apologise for my and Zohakuten's brash behavior. In a moment of desperation I lost my composure and did not realise what the consequences of my actions would lead to." It was pathetic, but better to seem like a fool than lose the one thing you cannot live without. But she wouldn't fall for it a second time. "How dare you..." Sekido was understandably surprised. "You think a simple apology would have me running back into your arms like the many, many times before? Have you forgotten what you did to me, Sekido? Have you forgotten the many tears I cried because of my fear?" No, he did not. Did they really think she was going to forget it all just like that? All the torture, the punishment just because they did not see whatever she did that time fit? "How many times have you lied to me? How many times have you guilt tripped me into thinking it was my fault even though it was yours?!" "Y/N I-"

"DON'T interrupt ME while I'm TALKING!!"

It was practically trauma at that point and the clones had no one to blame but themselves. What did they expect? The pain and fear would've caught up eventually.

"I'm afraid of you... I don't love you anymore. I-I..." But even then, does she truly believe her own words? Is she that naive that she truly can't see what is wrong here?

"You put me alone in a room without a single thing but a futon and a chamberstick. You're insane...! All of you know I hate being alone! I'm afraid of being alone!! Do my endless screams and cries, begging and hitting the door entertain any of you?" Y/N hoped it wasn't true, but at this point, she was smart to know it was. Her fear entertained them. They were after all still demons and a human fearing a demon is the greatest sight and feeling a demon can get. "No-" "Don't lie to me..." He knew he needed to tell the truth eventually. "... Yes." The thick streams of tears continued more and more like a raging river crashing down a dam and flowing freely. "Get away from me..."

They can't lose you.

She was in their arms faster than she could blink. "Dewdrop... I'm sorry... Don't leave us... please." The sight of his betrothed's beautiful face stained with tears was enough to shatter Aizetsu. He didn't mean to push her this far. What kind of husband tortures his wife? Oh, how wrong they were. "Songbird, you can do anything but leave. You can scream and yell at us, hit and stab us, we will take it all with grace, but please, I beg of you don't leave. I swear on my lord's name we will be better!" The all clung onto her as if she were their lifeline. They will beg, scream and cry if they must in order to get her to stay. She cannot leave. "I'll never laugh at your tears again, I'll never make you cry. Sweet thing, don't leave. I will get on my knees if I have to..." The woman can put them all on a leash if it meant that she'd stay. They might have been all high and mighty then, but the moment she even hints at leaving for good, suddenly they're her lapdogs. It would crush them if she were to leave for good. They cannot lose that one good feeling not even they can describe. It wasn't joy or pleasure... What it was? They did not know, but it felt too good to be let go and she was the cause of this. Neither dignity or pride was no longer of importance to them, only Y/N was.

"You can put me on a leash and I'd say 'Thank you'... Do whatever you want, but you will not leave me." The lengths these psychopaths would go for one woman is near insanity. They were all demented and she was the one person keeping them sane. Possessiveness in a human can only go so far, but a demon is a new thing entirely. Considering their power, they will do what they must for their love, for that one person. They cannot leave, who said they could leave? Some may hurt them and prevent them from doing so, others may become their servants. Whatever works is what they will do. That one person is their entire life. They cannot live without that one person.

"Don't leave me, please."

No, she could never. They had gotten her too far in. She was theirs, she was already claimed by them. Y/N was going nowhere and she accepted that. Horrid as their actions may be, these man-eating demons loved her. They love her.

"I won't."

So it all starts again. Y/N goes back to them, rushing into their arms as they had hoped for. Their arms clung onto to her as if she would disappear if they didn't hold her. They hugged her tightly, not daring to let go of her in fear of her disappearing. They all told her how much they loved her, how they would sell their soul for her to be happy. The clones and their wife cuddled together for the entire night, not daring to let go of her. She was constantly met with kisses, small love bites, licks, whatever, as long as it expressed their love and affection to her.

She wouldn't ever leave them. She was theirs and it was written in stone.

Which still begs the question Sekido had asked last time.

"... Would you like to bear us a child?"

Ps: I added Zohakuten, because he too is a clone. Yes, he does see reader as his wife, but that doesn't mean he engages in those acts with reader. He loves her too, but only in a romantic sense. He has the physical build of a child, yes, but that doesn't mean it's sexual. Just thought I'd clear it up for you snowflakes out there.

Note: Yes daddy, I would love for you to breed me.

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale IV

Chapter Four

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 7.4k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Hope you enjoy. Made this chapter extra long for the wait x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 29th, 2005

Camila sat there, frozen in time, for what seemed like an eternity trying to process what Jasper had just admitted. So, Jasper sat there, unmoving as well as not breathing. He wasn’t sure how she was taking the new information and suddenly found himself wishing that he held Edward’s power in that moment, willing to give everything just to know the thoughts that were going through her mind. Second best, he knew that she, remarkably, held no fright towards the admission, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she lacked the simple instinct that humans should be born with. The instinct to run away screaming when someone tells you that they’re a monster and could easily kill you. 

At the end of the day, he knew that was what he was. A monster. He may have changed his diet and tried to appear human, but he was far from it. He had killed people. Innocent people. He couldn’t even make the argument that his family had done the same, because their body counts were minuscule compared to his. He had fed off of human blood for nearly eighty-five years before Alice had found him. Even with his new found vegetarianism considered, he still slipped up. More than anybody else, and even though he knew that Camila was safe around him, he also knew that she had every reason in the world to fear him, and it confused the hell out of him that she didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself as he spoke, the silence eating away at his resolve. “Can you please tell me what’s going through your mind?” He asked, nervousness gripping his throat as he croaked the words out. 

Camila’s eyes flashed over to him, eyebrows creased in… confusion maybe? “I don’t know… I feel like I know I shouldn’t believe you, but for some reason, I do?” She said, eyes tracing his serious expression. “Can you prove it? N-not the vampire thing, I guess, but something to prove any of it is true?” She asked. 

Jasper’s mind reeled for a moment trying to think of something quickly, when an idea popped into his head. “Remember how you said I’m really good at reading emotions? Like an empath?” He asked, waiting for her nod before continuing. “It’s a little more than that. Some of us, when we turn, we get… gifts. When I was changed I could not only feel people’s emotions like they were my own, but manipulate them too.” He explained slowly, trying to find the right words.

Given the situation, he figured this was his best bet in not freaking her out any further. Eyes scanning her face to make sure that she was okay with what he was about to do, he pushed a wave of happiness towards her. He watched as the corners of her lips curved upwards, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing as her heart filled with overwhelming joy. 

She didn’t know nor care why she had become so  suddenly happy, but as soon as the emotion was ripped back from her, the pieces clicked together. The smile slowly dropped from her face as her mind returned to where had been just moments before. “Holy shit.” She huffed out. He was telling the truth. As soon as the feeling of joy had hit her, it was gone. 

Her eyes widened suddenly. Maybe this was the explanation as to why she felt so strongly towards him. Maybe it was him all along, manipulating her feelings. “Y-you don’t do that to me often do you?” She asked nervously. 

Jasper shook his head quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “No. I’ve never with you before.” He rushed out, hoping to whatever god that she would believe him.

Letting out a sigh, Camila let her shoulders drop as she let herself relax back into her seat. She had no reason to think he was lying. From what she could tell, all of her feelings and emotions involving him were genuine, no matter how much she wished that they weren’t there to begin with.

“So, is the whole thing about garlic true?” She asked trying to lighten the mood. Everything had suddenly gotten much too daunting.

Throwing his head back with a bark of laughter, Jasper ran his long thin fingers through his golden curls. How in the world was she taking all of this so well? The ball had to drop at some point, right? There’s no way that everything would go this smoothly. Surely after she learned about his past and how much of a monster he really was, surely then, she would run away screaming. But that admission would have to wait for another day, because in that moment, he would give anything keep Camila as far away from that part of him as possible.

——————

January 31st, 2005

The rest of her day with Jasper had flown by, and before Camila knew it, it was the start to her second week at Forks High School. After the exhaustion of her first week, and hanging out with Jasper on Saturday, the rest of her weekend consisted of sleep and cramming in the remainder of her homework. When Monday finally came around, she was well rested, at lest as well rested as she could be. 

Camila had just joined the end of the line in the cafeteria, Eric talking her ear off behind her once again, when her eyes finally met Jasper’s across the crowded room. She hadn’t seen him since he had dropped her back off at home Saturday night. Like a perfect gentleman, he had waited, car pulled against the curb and watched her figure until she had successfully made it fully inside her home, before he drove away. 

Now that her eyes had met his for the first time since she had been given the opportunity to fully, well mostly maybe, process his confession, she felt a weight leave her shoulders that she wasn’t even aware was there in the first place. The rest of their night on Saturday had consisted mostly of more light hearted conversation, so now that she had been given the time to think of more questions to ask him, she had began to grow anxious of waiting. 

She knew the questions would have to wait, however, but seeing his face, that alone, eased that stress and anxiety from her. Everything had happened so quickly that her mind didn’t know how to calculate what his confession actually meant, and over the remainder of the weekend her mind had time to wander. He was dangerous, that much was apparent, but somehow, she also knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. That she was safe with him. 

It felt almost like a fever dream, everything happening so quickly. They had only just met, but suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so comfortable with another person. So comfortable with being vulnerable, and content with sharing with him what she had been so keen on keeping from everyone else. Clearly he felt the same, that much she could gather herself, given his blatant honesty with her. 

Eric’s voice broke her from her thoughts as he continued his ramble on about how their trip to La Push Beach had gone and how she ‘had to join them next time’. She had to stop herself from cringing, not looking forward to coming up with another excuse in the future. She turned to him, attempting to give a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to come off rude, especially with the wide grin that was stretched across his face. He was just trying to be friendly, and that’s what she wanted. So, even if his persistence slightly annoyed her, she was still happy to have him around. 

Chills ran up her spine as icy fingertips brushed lightly across her lower back, bringing goosebumps quickly to the surface of her skin. She knew who it was, of course, before she looked up, having already gotten used to the feel of his touch, but that didn’t stop the flutter of her heart as her eyes met Jasper’s once more. He had sensed her unease from across the room and had decided to come to her rescue. 

“Will you sit with us for lunch today?” He asked, giving her a quirked eyebrow as well as a small smile. Alice had been pestering him since his return on Saturday to spend more time with the girl. As usual, she would get what she wanted, she already knew that of course, but that didn’t stop her from reminding him at every chance she got. 

Jasper watched as the gears in her head began to turn, slowly processing his invitation, her heart sputtering at his touch. He couldn’t help his smile from growing bigger across his face, enjoying hearing the reaction he had on her heart. “S-sure.” She stuttered out, turning back to the lunch lady to pay for her tray of food. She sent a small wave and smile to the boy, Eric, and fell in stride by Jasper’s side, his hand ghosting the small of her back as he lead her to the table that held the remainder of his family. 

Eric stood for a moment, mouth agape as he stared at their retreating figures. What was it with the new girls and the Cullens? Why was that family suddenly so sociable after a year of barely speaking to anybody? From across the cafeteria, the two were beginning to attract the stares from the rest of her friend group, and when she finally made it to the table, Jasper pulling her chair out for her to take a seat, the majority of the overcrowded room was practically ogling them. A fact, in which was doing nothing to ease the anxiety that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

Setting her tray down, she slowly dropped into the hard plastic seat, shoulders tensing as she took in the perfect faces sat in front of her. Camila had of course met Alice the week previous, but she had yet to meet Jasper’s other siblings. She wasn’t sure if she should feel more or less comfortable meeting the pale strangers now that she knew their secret, but the fact was, she knew and nothing would change that now. 

Feeling waves of anxiety and stress radiate from Camila, he decided now would be a time to use his powers, one that he hoped she wouldn’t be mad at him for later. He hated seeing the worry in her eyes and knew that her stress was unnecessary, so he did what he could and pushed feelings of calmness and comfortability towards her as he settled into the seat next to her. 

As the anxiety lifted from her shoulders, a polite smile formed on Camila’s lips. Jasper cleared his throat from beside her, gaining the attention of his siblings. “Camila this is my family.” He gestured towards the group. “Alice you met already.” He said pointing to the pixie haired girl on the other side of Camila.

The whole family already knew of his admission, and given the circumstances he was more that content with their reactions. He hadn’t exactly known what to expect from the situation, never having dealt with anything like it before. Carlisle and Esme had been happy for him, and though this slightly unnerved him, he knew it came with good intentions. He knew what coming clean to Camila could mean for her future, for their future, but he still refused to get his hopes up. Her knowing and having the choice to ‘live’ on had no guarantee that she would make that decision, and as much as it pained him, he knew that he would never be able to make that choice for her. 

Alice’s teeth shown brightly as she smiled at the girl, squealing lightly as she pulled her into a tight hug. Camila’s eyes widened, the immortal girl’s antics still surprising her despite already being on the receiving end previously. Before she was given the time to process and reciprocate the hug, Alice had pulled away and had returned to her comfortable position in her seat. 

Alice was of course ecstatic, even though she had seen the whole thing happen already, because now she was free to develop their friendship. She had seen the whole thing play out and knew just how close she would grow to Camila, and like a child on Christmas morning, was practically bouncing with anticipation when he had arrived home Saturday night. 

Jasper continued, stopping to roll his eyes at his sister. “This is Emmet and Rosalie.” He said, gesturing to the couple sitting at the opposite side of the table. Emmet gave a ginormous half smile half smirk to the girl, while Rosalie attempted the give a polite smile as well.

Emmet was of course laid back about the whole thing, only giving him a little bit of shit for finally finding his mate. Rosalie was surprisingly at ease with the situation, unlike her feelings towards Bella. Of course, Jasper knew why. She had always resented her immortality, having her humanity ripped away from her the way that it had been, and she wouldn’t wish that on anybody else. He knew her calm demeanor had to do with the fact that, unlike her human life, Camila had no chance of growing old. No chance of starting a family.

His heart ached at this knowledge, knowing that he would give anything he could to see Camila age into her beauty. To see her grow and start her adult life. To see her get married and have children, even if he wasn’t the one to give her that future. Unfortunately, maybe because God or whatever higher power was cruel or had a sick twisted sense of humor, she had no hope for that life. 

It had been an unexpected punch to the gut to meet her mother. She was such a perfect reflection of her daughter that it was almost like he was glimpsing into that impossible future. He knew that this would be how Camila would look, given the chance. But she didn’t have that chance, and that was his best guess as to why Rosalie had refrained from giving him the same shit she had been giving Edward. 

“And this is Edward.” Jasper said finally, turning to look at displeased expression of his adopted brother.

Edward had seemed slightly bitter about the situation. He obviously knew the differences between the two girls, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at which the ease Jasper came by with telling Camila the truth. He himself would never wish the future of immortality onto Bella, but only wished that he didn’t have to suppress his want for the girl. He knew it was best to stay as far away from Bella as possible, hence why he had been avoiding her to the best of his abilities, but his resolve was beginning to waver. 

Jasper didn’t have to deal with any of this, despite having his own struggles. Camila already knew the truth about them, and soon she would be making that decision on her own. Hell, he didn’t even have to worry about his thirst around the girl, a fact that he couldn’t help but be bitter about. Edward had always had what he considered decent self control with human blood, something that he couldn’t say the same for with Jasper, and the one person that it truly mattered for, he was at his lowest point with self control. It was cruel irony. 

Despite not being able to read Edward’s mind like he could his, Jasper could feel his emotions, and he could fill in the rest himself. He didn’t want any animosity between him and his brother, but he knew that whatever Edward was feeling wouldn’t stop him from growing closer to Camila, and definitely wouldn’t stop Alice from begging him to let her spend more time with her. So that was why he had decided it was time to introduce her. What better time and place to break the ice between Camila and the rest of his family than the controlled environment of a school cafeteria? He had thought, and now, seeing the slight glare on Edward’s face, he couldn’t decide whether or not that had been a bad decision on his part.

As thoughts of anger rushed through Jasper’s mind, Edwards eyes flickered over to his. Edward’s glare softened as he processed Jasper’s internal dialog. He knew that it wasn’t his fault and he knew that it wasn’t Camila’s, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He was jealous and he was finding it difficult to hide his emotions. His eyes flitted across Jasper’s face, neck, and arms. The scars littered across his skin were a reminder to not push things with him. The crescents, nearly invisible to the human eye, were a gigantic red flag to any vampire. Neon lights that flashed bright as a warning to everyone around him to stay back or else. Although he knew that his brother would never hurt him, he also knew not to start a fight, because it would most definitely be one he would lose.

Huffing in irritation, Edward pulled out his chair, rushing to leave the cafeteria. He could try all he wanted to be civil and not start a fight, but he wasn’t about to sit there and take this torture. Over time it would get easier for him to cope, but in that moment, the wound was fresh and he needed to be far from the reminder. 

Jasper sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes once again as he let his defenses fall back down to their normal level. “Ignore him.” He muttered to the girl beside him, slinging his arm protectively around the back of her chair.

——————

“So what’s with you and Cullen?” Tyler blurted out suddenly. Camila’s head fell to look at her boots that thudded along the hallway towards their last class of the day. She could feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks and knew that it would do little to help her case if he saw the growing blush. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, feigning confusion. It was a matter of time before someone started the inevitable conversation given Jasper’s display in the cafeteria that day, but she had hoped she would have a bit more time to prepare herself. 

Tyler stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Yeah, you two seemed… cozy today at lunch.” He muttered.

Camila raised her head, quirking an eyebrow at the dark skinned boy in stride beside her. “Cozy?” She asked, a hint of humor tinting her voice. Tyler was clearly bothered by this whole situation, a fact that she found humorous given the circumstance. From the fact that Tyler had asked her to prom just a few days previous, she could gather herself that he was most likely jealous of Jasper. Not that he had any reason to be. Camila had every intention to stick to her plan of staying single and as much as she was beginning to care for Jasper, she didn’t see that changing.

A scoff sounded from the boy by her side as he rolled his eyes at her teasing. “Yeah. Cozy. You sat with his family at lunch instead of us, and he was practically all over you.” He argued. 

Camila laughed lightly at his words. “He was not all over me.” She argued. In fact, like usual, she had been hyper aware of every touch from the pale immortal. As usual, he had shown to be very hesitant in touching her, only giving the slight graze of his fingertips along her covered back as he lead her to the table. She of course was also extremely aware of the arm that he had slung protectively around the back of her seat after Edward’s whole display, but he had been very precise in not letting his cold skin actually touch her in any way.

Tyler groaned frustratedly. “Whatever it was, I don’t like it.” He complained.

Camila’s eyebrows knitted together. What was it with people at this school being assholes to them? The Cullen’s kept to themselves, sure, but they were never anything but polite to anyone they came into contact with. At this point, all these little comments that everybody kept making were beginning to piss her off. “And why should you not liking it mean anything to me?” She asked incredulously. Sure, she wanted to make friends, and be nice, but she was starting to become defensive over Jasper and she wasn’t just going to stand there and take everybody’s bullshit. Because that’s what it was. Complete and utter bullshit.

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to respond in that way, never seeing her angry before. “I mean, he’s kind of creepy isn’t he? I’m just trying to look out for you. He doesn’t seem… good.” He said trailing off towards the end as he took in the expression of anger growing more and more prevalent on her face.

She had to bite back a snide remark as she tried to process how she could respond without sounding like a total bitch. An awkward silence rung between the two teens before she decided that she didn’t really care anymore. If he was going to give unsolicited advice to her when he barely knew her then she would respond accordingly. “No offense Tyler, but I didn’t ask for your shitty advice. I’m a big girl, I can look out for myself, thanks.” She said finitely.

Pushing her aching legs to move her forward at a faster pace, she let out an internal sigh of relief as the door to her calculous class came into view. Lunch had gone well, all things considered. Despite Edward’s little display, the rest of Jasper’s family had welcomed her with open arms. While the conversation mostly consisted of small talk and them asking her questions about herself, she could tell that they were all genuinely nice people. 

Alice had invited her over for the following weekend, in which Camila had immediately agreed to without thinking. Now that she had been given the time to think about the implications of the invite, she realized that she would be meeting their adoptive mother and seeing Carlisle. While she knew Carlisle fairly well, given meeting him the week prior, she realized how nervous she was to meet Esme. Jasper had talked the woman up so highly, but she couldn’t help but feel her nerves eating away at her. She would be meeting his mother soon, ‘adopted’ or not and it was only natural to have that kind of reaction. 

Jasper, as usual, was already seated at their assigned table by the time she had arrived to the classroom. Camila flitted to the back of the room to her seat, letting her body drop into the confines of the cool plastic, as she let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you okay?” Jasper asked, concern lacing his voice. It was normal for her be exhausted by the end of the school day, but he could also feel her anger and frustration. The feelings set off warning bells in his mind and he was immediately on alert to what had upset her. 

Camila rolled her eyes, raking her slim fingers through the long dark strands of her hair. “Tyler Crowley is an asshole.” She said simply, annoyance still evident on her face as she recalled their conversation that had just taken place moments ago. 

His eyes flickered over to where said boy had just entered the classroom, narrowing as he took in the sight. “What did he say?” He asked, immediately defensive over the girl. 

“He apparently has an issue with you and ‘just wants to look out for me’.” She said, yanking her workbook and and pencil case from her backpack and slamming them down on the desk.

Jasper’s shoulder’s drooped at her words as he hummed in reply. He couldn’t even be mad. What Tyler said was clearly justified, whether or not Camila had realized. She should be warned about him. Just because he didn’t thirst for her blood didn’t mean that he wasn’t a danger towards her. Didn’t mean that he couldn’t hurt her, even if it wasn’t intensional. Didn’t mean that he wasn’t a monster at the end of the day.

Hearing his near silent response, Camila turned her head to see him looking down slightly defeated, eyes refusing to meet her own. “Jasper.” She said, trying and failing to get him to look at her. “Jasper.” She repeated, grasping at his hand  that laid in a tight fist at his thigh. 

Electricity shot through her fingers as they brushed the marble skin of his clenched knuckles, but she pushed on. “Can you look at me, please?” She asked, her soft voice contrasting the anger that had filled it just moments ago. 

His amber eyes flickered up to meet hers. As much as he wanted to sulk in that moment, he wanted more to give her what she wanted. Her eyes softened as she saw the pain that filled his. They were always filled with pain, but this was different. More of an inner torment and seeing it made her chest ache. 

She turned his fist over in her palm, nudging the fingers apart so she could intertwine them with her own. “He’s full of shit, Jazz. I know you would never hurt me.” She said, voice softly ringing in his ears. 

The pain in his heart grew at her words. He didn’t deserve her. She was too perfect for his damned self and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from being grateful that she was there. It didn’t stop him from selfishly wanting her. He pulled their intertwined fingers up to his lips were he laid a soft kiss on the back of her palm, thanking her for her kindness. Thanking her for her comfort. 

The touch of his chilled lips on her skin sent her heart into overdrive, and knowing that he could he hear his effect on her didn’t help the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks. She had expected him to drop her hold after that, but instead, their hands remained, bound together and laying gently in his lap. 

Class continued, the two working together on finishing the next page in their worksheet. Jasper of course could finish the work in less than a minute, but anything that gave him the excuse to talk to Camila he would gladly do. She sat there, eyebrows furrowed as she worked over a particularly difficult problem on the sheet. Normally, she would have no problem solving the equations, but today her mind was wandering too much. She sighed, giving up as she let her pencil clatter onto the chipped veneer of the desk.

“Do you want to come over to my house today?” She asked suddenly. Clearly seeing that she had caught him off guard, she continued. “I have more questions.” She clarified. 

Jasper groaned internally. As much as he would love to avoid the inevitable conversation, he also knew that it had to happen at some point. At least he would get to spend more time with her, a definite plus. “Sure, I can just drive us after class if you’d like.” He offered. Alice had told him to drive separately to school that day, and now it was clear why. He would have to thank her later. 

Camila nodded, pulling her flip phone from her bag and trying to discreetly type a quick text to her mother letting her know that Jasper would drive her home. Doing so was a bit difficult to do one handed, but she wasn’t about to take her other hand out of his grasp. 

The remainder of the class trudged on slowly to Camila’s dismay. Now that she knew that she would be able to ask all of the questions that had been racing through her mind, she couldn’t seem to clear her head of them. Finally, a bell rang shrilly throughout the class, signaling the end of the school day. An unspoken agreement stood between her and Jasper as they both proceeded to pack away their belongings without undoing the grip on each other’s hands. 

She wasn’t sure what the hand holding meant to him or even herself, but she didn’t exactly care. She already had to constantly remind herself of her promise to keep any romance at bay, but hand holding didn’t necessarily have to mean that. It was comforting, having his cold palm pressed against hers, and despite her internal screaming at herself that it was a bad idea, she didn’t want to pull away. So there they were, walking down the hallway, hand in hand, attracting even more stares than usual. 

Camila let out a sigh as they reached the parking lot, the cool air feeling nice on her feverish skin. Puffs of vapor swirled in front of her mouth as steady breaths of hot air left her parted lips. Jasper had to rip his eyes away from the sight to make sure that he was walking in the right direction. He needed to pull his shit together. Kissing her hand had been bad enough, but he had to stop himself from thinking too much about her lips. Her soft warm plump lips. Jesus Christ, STOP. 

He wished so badly in that moment that he could’ve kissed her. Regardless of the numerous bystanders. However, he knew that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t trust himself enough not to end up accidentally hurting her. He didn’t even know if she would’ve kissed him back for fuck’s sake. And here he was feeling like an absolute creep again. 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he pulled the passenger door of his car open for her. Reluctantly, she let loose of his grasp, immediately feeling an emptiness without it’s presence. She settled into the plush bucket seat, pulling her bag into her lap as he shut the door softly behind her. 

Flitting quickly, or as quick as seemed human, to the driver’s side, Jasper slid in and turned the key in the ignition. Shifting the car into reverse, he backed out of the parking spot and shifted back into drive as he sped out onto the street. He internally thanked his past self for buying a manual transmission before reaching over to grasp Camila’s hand once more. 

Camila let her hair fall in front of her face, hoping that the curtain of dark strands hid the smile that she couldn’t wipe away. For someone who was so adamant on not dating, she kept finding herself being giddy whenever he touched her. What was she a twelve year-old? He was just holding her hand, she shouldn’t feel like a swarm of butterflies was flying around in her stomach. 

The drive to Camila’s home hadn’t taken long, and by the time they arrived at the small house, he mother’s mini van was still absent from the driveway. She had replied earlier letting her know that she was going to go grocery shopping since she had time before she had to go to work, and Camila was happy to see that she hadn’t returned yet. One less awkward interaction with Jasper and her parents would always be a good thing. 

As they stepped through the threshold of the home, she found herself wishing she had cleaned her room. She hadn’t thought of the mess she had left behind before she had invited him over, albeit a small mess. Either way, she couldn’t help herself but try and hurriedly pick up the few pieces of clothing scattered around the room once they made it through the doorway. 

Once she was content with her ‘cleaning’ she shut the door softly behind her and plopped down on her mattress, the springs squeaking slightly in protest. Scooting backwards until her back met the wall, she patted the empty space beside her, gesturing for Jasper to join her. On one hand, she almost wanted to sit out on the couch in the living room, as it would probably seem less intimate that way, but she also didn’t want to be interrupted by her mother when she inevitably returned home from the store. So there they were sitting side by side awkwardly on her worn out used mattress and now she didn’t know how to start the conversation. 

Sensing her hesitation, Jasper spoke up. “So, you have questions.” He said, wanting to end the torture of waiting any longer. If she was going to run away screaming, he would rather it be sooner than later, because the anticipation was slowly eating away at him. 

Camila sucked in a breath. “How old are you?” She blurted out. Jasper groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He should’ve expected her to jump right to the point, but, somehow, he hadn’t. “You said it was a conversation for another day. It’s another day now.” She reasoned.

“I know. I know.” He said with a sigh. “I’m just really old, Darlin’.” He said, hoping the nickname would distract her. It didn’t.

She scoffed. “That’s not an answer.” She said bluntly. 

Jasper closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he braced for the impact of her reaction. “I’m a hundred and sixty-one.” He muttered lowly. Utter silence followed. 

Camila didn’t know what she expected, if the age he had given was younger or older than she had thought it would be, but hearing him say such a precise age made everything seem way more real. She couldn’t find the words to say in response, so instead, she reached over to grasp his hand once more, letting him know that she wasn’t disgusted like he had thought. 

“Will you tell me your story?” She asked, not being able to help her intrigue.

His bright gold eyes met her emerald irises. “It’s kind of gruesome.” He warned, trying his best to prolong the inevitable admission of his past, but knowing that it was just that. Inevitable.

“I want to know.” She said simply. “If you’re willing to tell me.” She clarified. 

Jasper was fucked and he knew it. Anything that she wanted, he would give her in a heartbeat, but she would hate him after this. “I didn't have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings.” He said, reaching his free hand over reluctantly, to roll up the sleeve on the arm that she held. 

She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed them before, but there they were. Hundreds of crescent shaped scars shimmering lightly in the dim lighting emitted from her ceiling fan. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the scars were scattered across every piece of visible skin. Down his arms, onto the hand that was holding hers, a few up his neck to his handsome face. “Are those… bites?” She asked incredulously.

“Battle scars.” He responded, a small smirk gracing his lips. “I was seventeen when I joined the Confederate Army.” He said, pausing when he saw her grimace. “I know. I wish I could say that I didn’t know what I was fighting for, or against, but I knew enough. I’m not proud of it.” He said hanging is head in shame. 

“I was the youngest major in the Texas cavalry. All without having seen any real battle.” He continued.

Camila perked up. “I knew that was a Texas accent.” She said smirking at him, gaining a small smile in repose. Leave it to her to try and lighten the mood as soon as it gets dark.

Still, he pushed on, knowing that it was about to become a much darker conversation. “I was riding back to Galveston...after evacuating a column of women and children. When I saw her.” He said dauntingly. “I immediately offered her my aid.” He continued.

“Maria was creating an army. A newborn vampire army.” He clarified. “Our kind are at their strongest in their first year after changing. Their human blood still lingers in their veins and gives them more speed and strength.” He explained.

“Newborn armies were very common in the South, and cost a brutal battles for territory.” He continued, losing himself in the story. “Maria won them all. She was smart, careful. And she had me. I was the second in command. My abilities to control emotions served her well.” He said, looking down to the warm hand he still had clutched in his own, trying to find comfort in her touch. 

“I trained her newborns. An endless occupation since she never let them live beyond their first year.” He said, cringing from the memory. “It was my job to dispose of them.” He said, voice thick with emotion. It pained him to remember what he had done. To remember their pain. “I could feel everything they felt.”

The crease between Camila’s brows deepened. It clearly hurt for him to recall these memories, and she found herself wishing that she could take that pain away. 

“I thought what Maria and I had was love. But I was her puppet. She pulled the strings. I didn't know there was another way. Until I found Alice in 1948. Now she'd seen me coming, of course.” He paused, remembering that this would wouldn’t make much sense to Camila. 

He gathered his thoughts quickly, trying explain the best he could. “She has visions, of possible futures. They change when decisions are made, but she knew when and where to find me.” He smiled slightly. “She saw you, even though she conveniently didn’t warn me.” He explained.

“I don't know what I'd have become without her. I’d done horrible, unspeakable things, and she helped me get past that. My family choses to feed off of animal blood rather than human blood, but it wasn’t always like that for me. I’ve killed innocent people. I’m not a… good person.” He ended his story with a sigh, unsure of how she was feeling. 

Her mind was filled with conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite place all together. “I completely understand if you want me to leave.” He said, moving to pull his hand away from hers. 

Her grip tightened as her eyes shot up to his. “No, stay. Please.” She muttered. She knew how her reaction must seem. In truth, she had almost expected worse. As bad as his story was, at least he didn’t actively kill people. It was a horrible argument, she knew, but after being given the rest of the weekend to let her mind wander, she had tried to prepare herself for the worst. 

Her silence was agony and he couldn’t help himself when he asked. “Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?”

Camila sighed, bringing her eyes back to his. “I’m not going to sit here and act like what you did wasn’t wrong, because it was. But I’m also not going to actively try and make you feel any worse for it. You’ve had over fifty years to regret what you did, and you clearly do. I’m not going to judge you for something that you wish you could’ve changed, not when I know you’re a good person now.” She said. 

Jasper shook his head in disbelief. How was she this forgiving? It seemed impossible. He was sure she would be disgusted with him, but here she was forgiving him for something he couldn’t even forgive himself for. “How are you not terrified of me?” He asked.

She looked deep into his eyes as she answered. “I’m not scared because I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.” She said simply.

“I could hurt you on accident. Very easily.” He argued, looking ashamed. “I could crush you just by hugging you too tightly. I know you don’t understand fully, but it would be so easy that I actively have to try and not hurt you.” He said, a deep frown on his face.

Camila’s eyebrows furrowed as she brought her free hand down to trace the crescent shaped scars that littered his arm. “I don’t know what to tell you. I trust you, that’s the best answer I can give you, Jasper. You need to try and have trust in yourself.” She answered.

Jasper shook his head, baffled that she had so much trust in him to begin with. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her. Seeing the sadness still in his eyes, she rushed, trying to find a change of topic to lighten the mood from the darkness that it had reached. “So, if you can manipulate emotions and Alice sees visions of the future, does anyone else in your family have a ‘gift’.” She asked, curiosity peaking once again. 

Jasper was thankful for the change of topic, already feeling himself beginning to spiral from the continuous self hatred. “Yeah, Edward is the only other one in our family. He can, um, read minds… I know it sounds ridiculous.” He said, slightly humiliated at how fictional everything sounded. 

“Oh god. That’s… embarrassing.” She muttered, her mind beginning to wander. Edward had no doubt read her mind and heard her thoughts of Jasper. Those were thoughts she didn’t even want to admit to herself and now he definitely had knew all about them. 

Suddenly her mind went to his exit at lunch. Was that why he had left? Was it something she had thought that had set him off? “What happened with him at lunch today?” She asked.

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Jasper tried to form the most comprehensible explanation. “He’s jealous that I can tell you the truth and he can’t tell Bella.” He said simply. 

“Bella Swan?” Camila asked.

Jasper nodded. “He… has a particular interest in her. He’s been trying to avoid her because he knows that it won’t end well, and he’s jealous that I don’t have to do the same with you.” He explained. 

“Why is it different with me?” She asked, trying to ignore the implication that Jasper had an interest in her.

His eyes trailed across the bare walls of her bedroom, looking anywhere but at her as he continued. “He has a really hard time with the scent of her blood, while yours is different for me.” He said.

“Because of the leukemia?” She asked.

Jasper nodded again. “It’s more dangerous for her than it is for you because of that. It’s hard for him to even be in the same room as her. Either way it would end badly.” He explained.

“End badly how? Surely it could end in more ways than just him killing her right?” She asked. She knew the subject had to be touchy and sensitive, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

Here it was. The scariest topic of them all. If he didn’t handle this just right, if he didn’t use the right words, then there went his chance of a future with her. He gulped, mustering the courage to speak. “He could kill her or he could change her. Both which he doesn’t want to do.” 

Camila’s eyed widened. She hadn’t even thought of that. Changing into a vampire. She wasn’t sure why her mind hadn’t gone there, but she hadn’t even considered that a possibility. She couldn’t help it when her mind wandered to what this could mean for her. He had said it like he was trying to imply something else entirely. He had to know the possible endings. Surely Alice had seen. 

“Are there more possible endings for me? Futures where I don’t die from the leukemia?” She asked. She had to know. She had spent a year coming to terms with the fact that her life would be cut short, but now she wasn’t sure. She knew that her illness would in no doubt end up taking her human life, but what if she turned. What if she changed into something else where the cancer didn’t effect her anymore? What if she wasn’t human anymore? She had to know, because suddenly, after a year of withering away, she might have another option. She might have hope.

Jasper turned his eyes back to hers. This was the make it or break it moment. He sucked in a breath, feeling a tightness in his chest regardless of the fact that he didn’t need the oxygen. 

And he spoke. “Yes… Alice has seen it."

Next Chapter

Tag List:

@jasper-the-beloved @parkchaeyoung1997 @bobaopal @izzyisstuff @itsmytimetoodream @soyeonrai @just-browsing101 @demirunner @dkbj14 @iloveramensm @imyelenasexual @bella7866 @ropickle @may-and-lay @breezybeesposts @emily-a13 @mamajaxx2511 @meyrryme @bertholdtswife @swagcopangeloop @idonotcareaboutyouropinion @honey132 @sakurayuki8655-blog @braveangel777 @illogic-ally @obsessed-with-pychopaths @natsvenom @iamveryholyiswear @too-many-fandoms-tbh @loser-syrus

[everydayyoulovemeless]

New Vegas companions (+ulysses)with a teen Courier? Like how they treat the teen and such

FNV Companions (+Ulysses) With A Teen!Courier

➼ Word Count » 1.3k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic

Boone's not entirely keen on the idea of traveling with someone so young. He feels that you shouldn't be out here at all and would tell you to go home. Of course, you don't remember your home, and once you tell him as much he feels obligated to (reluctantly) take you in. For a while, it'll be you, him, and Manny hanging around in Novac, with the two of them taking turns teaching you how to snipe effectively. After a few weeks, you need to continue your path to find Benny, and Boone agrees to go with you, if nothing else, then to protect you from the horrors of the outside world. He's still set on the idea that you're way too young to be out doing things like this, but if it's something you have to do then he'd rather it be him that goes along with you than anyone who might be a bad influence on you, especially considering you've lost all you're memories. He's a reluctant father figure, who'll stop at nothing to ensure you don't fall into the hands of the Legion, or worse, die.

Arcade isn't sure why anyone who forgot how to gamble would want to travel all the way out to Vegas, let alone Freeside. You didn't even have enough money to bypass the guards to get into the Strip when you entered the Old Mormon Fort for the first time, so whatever plan you had before traveling here is lost on him. He only begins talking to you out of pity and confusion, wanting to learn more about your motivations for making such a long hike for a payout that would surely never come. His pity for you only grows, and he'll quickly agree to come along with you wherever you plan on going next. You don't seem to remember anything at all so he'll do his best to reeducate you on the basics. Medicine, survival, reading, he'll cover them all in due time. He truly does feel guilty that you, some kid from who knows where, got caught up in such a large mess of things, and hopes that by staying with you he can make up for the acts this world has committed against you. He sees a bit of himself in you: a lost kid with no more home or family to turn to, no one to confide in, and he hopes to one day take on that familial role for you.

Raul can't help but feel a little bit embarrassed that he had to be saved by a kid with brain damage, but either way, he's happy to be able to leave Black Mountain. He'll follow you out of a mixture of gratitude and curiosity as you remind him a lot of himself back when he still lived in Mexico City. That being said, he is just the tiniest bit overprotective over you. He'd hate it if you ended up with the same fate as his family and would stop at nothing to ensure he never has to go through something like that again. The longer you travel together, the more he feels like he's found a younger sibling to watch over again. He'll tease you and generally be his sarcastic self, but he's definitely a lot softer on you than he would if you'd been an adult. He almost feels as if it's his responsibility to help raise you and keep you alive and healthy, and that's exactly what he ends up doing.

Lily would consider it to be a downright sin for her to just let you wander around on your own! So, whether you agree to it or not, she'll become your full-time grandma throughout the rest of your travels. She's just as doting to you as she would be to any of her other grandchildren and always makes a point to check in on your health and overall well-being. Grandma couldn't have her little pumpkin sad or starving now, could she? That being said, she does her best to fit in the occasional home cooking she's so famous for back in Jacobstown. Not much really changes with Lily. She's still the sweet, old grandma who adopts you regardless of everything, the only real difference being that she's more stubborn with coming along with you. Kids shouldn't be out and about without any chaperon, after all!

Cass doesn't really have much of an opinion on it. You're a kid, so what? Everyone around you was a kid at some point. She does, however, have a small soft spot for teens who aren't afraid of what the waste has to offer, and you've had to make it all the way out to the Mojave Outpost from somewhere, haven't you? She'll pat the barstool beside her, gesturing for you to come and sit down before (secretly) sliding you a glass of whiskey that the two of you share. She wants you to start from the beginning: what are you doing here? And where are your parents? She grows to respect you quite quickly and finds herself feeling some kind of connection with you. Maybe it's because you're a lot rowdier than most others your age, maybe it's 'cause of how unbothered you appear, or maybe it's the determined way you carry yourself? Either way, she's taking her place beside you to get revenge on whoever was fucked up enough to try and kill a kid.

Veronica gets a bit excited when she sees a teen approaching her at the 188 Trading Post. She thinks you're the cutest thing and would love to come along! She's constantly thinking up outfits she thinks you'd look great in, just little accessories here and there to really spice up the 'vengeful vibe' you seem to be going for. She's like the sister you never had, or at least never remembered having, and she takes that role very seriously. You need dating advice? She's your girl to go to. Want to be a better fighter? Allow her, you're amazing new best friend, to offer you some pointers. You want a group to back you up? She'll bother the Brotherhood for as long as she needs before you're accepted into their bunker. Honestly, she couldn't have asked for a better person to come along and break her out of her boredom. The two of you will cause problems like no other, but that only means you both know how to have fun and make the most of your situations.

Ulysses holds a lot less resentment toward you as he believes you're naivety was abused by the NCR. That being said, when you come wandering into the Divide, he definitely puts it in your head that the NCR isn't any good and that you're a victim to this world as much as he, and the rest of the Divide, were. He'll try to brainwash you into viewing the world the same way he does: a cold and heartless mess. He takes you under his wing in a sense, raising you to be a strong and determined warrior against both the NCR and the Legion. He's invested so much energy and thought into you that he feels it'd almost be a waste if he doesn't. If you decide you're not going to follow his path and carve your own, he wouldn't have any qualms about fighting you the same way he would had you been an adult, he'd just feel it'd be a misuse in potential. He'd be a mentor figure to you, a dangerous and smart one, but a teacher nonetheless. There's no room for compromise, and he'll turn you both into a two-man army to ruin the two flags that run rampant throughout the Mojave.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello!! Thank you so much for your wonderful work!! I have request for Donna! Reader is a powerful being and she has gone to the village with the purpose of ending the Lords. She convinces Miranda that she can help her, keeping the Lords in check and keeping her up to date on them. She goes to Donna's house and uses this pretense to stay there. She is constantly observing Donna, following her and trying to get info from her stuff to make it easier to kill her and the other Lords. Donna gets suspicious and starts to sneak around reader as well. The tension rises in the house, a game of cat and mouse, trying to deceive eachother. However she discovers Donna isn't the evil Lord she expected. Reader starts to care for her and to want to save her. She sees Donna's sensitive, smart and caring self, her melancholic past, and falls for her. One day, Donna decides to go to reader's room snoop around while she isn't home. Out of nowhere Donna hears footsteps approaching and becomes invisible so that reader doesn't find her in her room. Reader enters the room and senses that she isn't alone. Donna trys to leave but reader can hear slow movement around her and after a few moments she is able to grab the source of the noise. Donna is startled and starts struggling. They question one another about their intentions. They discover that in their game to spy on eachother they ended up wanting to know more about the other because they fell for them. This leads somehow to smut. Top reader and NO G!p please! Thank you!!!

Yess!!!!! Thank you for your nice words and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

To know love your enemy

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: A bit of smut, Minors DNI

Word count: 7,608

Summary: No, you're not going to start loving her, you can't do that...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“I have four Lords who make my job easier, I don't need someone like you, (Y/N),” Miranda said with a sigh, getting up from the table and walking to the sides.

“Have you not thought that they could rebel?” you asked with a slightly darker tone, drawing the attention of the priestess. “They are powerful; someone should watch them so their loyalty remains untouchable.”

The bird woman stopped, frowning. That look made you shift in your chair.

“They would never betray me. I believe in them,” she whispered dangerously, with a change in her gaze that opened hope in your mind again.

“Are you sure?” you asked, getting up and holding your gaze.

Miranda didn’t answer. She didn’t even change that threatening smile.

“Mm,” she murmured, relaxing her expression and glancing at some papers on her desk. “I have to admit that sometimes they act too much on their own.”

Your smile widened.

“I could keep an eye on them, Mother Miranda,” you offered, trying hard not to sound desperate.

“Maybe,” the witch whispered, looking at you over those papers. “I admit that some of them worry me… Especially…”

You nodded softly.

“Well, (Y/N) I think I know how you can help me, if you're still interested, of course.”

After that tense, awkward and risky meeting, you finally, somehow, managed to gain the trust of the village's fearsome witch.

You might have seemed like a neighbor, a girl who lived quietly in the next village, but you weren't.

In your village, people spent hours discussing the horrible curse that had fallen on the neighboring town, how its inhabitants had submitted to Mother Miranda, how the Lords terrorized them.

Your sense of justice was very sharp since you were born and, after hearing day after day that someone was dying, that someone was disappearing, you decided to train, to become a machine for killing demons, monsters.

Killing a lycan, two, was easy. Freeing your friends from the nightmare that was so close was not a problem. But everything had a limit, and the beasts kept coming. Like a weed, the problem was at the root.

Without a family since you were little, you learned to fend for yourself, to gain experience with each monstrous wolf you killed. Your overconfidence was always a problem. With the threat of the Black Gods getting closer to your village, you decided to take the last step, the only thing you could do to end this nightmare: Kill Mother Miranda, and the Lords as well.

You were stupid or brave, you didn't know.

Fortunately, stupidity always remained in the background and, instead of going with all your weapons, instead of doing things the way you would like, you did the opposite.

Infiltrate that hell, pretend to be a demon to get to know them better, to find out the best way to put out the burning fire that those poor people didn’t deserve.

That was you, a Trojan horse that risked burning in the fire of hell.

You didn't know if Miranda knew your intentions, you didn't know if you would die as you walked through that dark forest, but she did give you a job, a mission, to watch over the leaders, at least one of them.

Alcina Dimitrescu, Salvatore Moreau, Karl Heisenberg, those were their names. Names that you already knew, that you studied before entering into the most important mission of your life. Notes, photographs you had written down in a small notebook, everything you knew about them. But there was still one missing, the last of them, the youngest, the most mysterious: Donna Beneviento.

On that page of your notebook there was nothing but a photograph of a woman in mourning, her face covered, holding a sinister doll in her arms, you thought her name was Angie.

Donna Beneviento:

Descendant of the Italian Beneviento family, one of the four founders of the village.

Doll maker

The youngest of them

Covered face

Hallucinogenic powers?

That was all you had written down about her, all you knew or what you had been able to know. No one had returned from her territory to confirm any other kind of information.

Chance played in your favor, because she was your destiny, she was Miranda's concern.

According to the witch, Donna always stayed out of almost everything that happens in the village, she has a serious mental illness. Well, at least that added another line to your investigation.

Mentally ill

As you walked towards the old estate, you went over that information. It was scarce, yes, but you hoped to fill in all those gaps when you got to know that mysterious woman, if you could ever come back home, of course.

The landscape around you was what first caught your attention: an imposing waterfall adorned that old house, the sound of the water filled that sinister silence. You didn't know why, but a strange sensation passed through your spine as you approached the door.

“You've arrived, stupid intruder!”

An unpleasant voice came out of that sinister doll, which opened the door before you could bring your hand to it. The fright made you back off, but you had long since learned to keep your cool.

“I'm…” you said, reaching out your hand towards the lady, who appeared behind the doll like a shadow, a ghost. A normal, ordinary woman; that was the first thing you thought when you saw her dark figure.

The lady walked slowly towards you, taking the doll in her arms and looking, with an unknown expression, at your hand and your fake, smiling gaze.

“I know who you are,” the doll said, with a slightly darker tone, tilting her head to look at you suspiciously.

You looked at your hand and returned it to the side of your waist. Your attempt at a formal greeting had failed, but it didn't surprise you.

“My name is (Y/N),” you said, closing the fist with which you were going to greet the lady in black. She didn't move, but her doll did.

“I don't care about your name, I don't want you here,” Angie hissed, with that same dark tone.

Interesting, it seemed like Donna was speaking through the puppet.

Another line to add to your report.

“Miranda sent…”

“I know!” the puppet shrieked, moving erratically in the arms of its owner, who seemed only a support, a black and ghostly statue that barely existed. “If I don’t, you would have died a long time ago.”

You didn't know how to respond to that threat, you simply trusted the priestess's command, the only person they feared, or so you thought.

“What are you coming here to do, stranger?” Angie asked again.

Your stomach dropped as you felt the lady's gaze directly on yours. You couldn't see it, but you knew it was there, somehow, you knew.

“Mother Miranda has asked me to spend some time with you, that's all,” you explained, like a threatened animal showing its capabilities, with an equally threatening tone.

The same question rang in your mind: Brave or stupid?

“Of course, crazy Donna can't take care of herself, can she? Stupid Donna needs to be watched, right?” the doll mocked, along with a sigh that came out of the black veil.

“I don't question Mother Miranda, Lady Beneviento, I only follow her orders,” you whispered, when the lady in black began to tremble, when she seemed to want to kill you for real and not just with an implicit threat.

“Sei così scema,” a hoarse, unknown voice whispered, Donna's voice. “Fuori di qui e lasciame estare.”

You avoided smiling, since you weren't going to that place without having prepared yourself enough, you knew how to act, no matter how mysterious the doll maker was. You knew enough not to let yourself be overwhelmed.

“I'm sorry, but I can't go. These are Mother Miranda's orders,” you said with a cocky voice, leaving your small backpack on the floor and crossing your arms.

Was challenging a Lord for the brave, or for the stupid? You would soon find out.

“They are Mother Miranda's orders,” the doll mocked, now being herself, or so you thought by the changed tone of her voice. “Go away, stupid, go away!”

At least the gift of speech was with you since you were born.

“Who is the stupid one? The one who obeys Mother Miranda, or the one who rejects her orders?” you answered smugly. “With that attitude you are showing me that your faith is questionable, Lady Beneviento.”

It was a risky comment, but one that seemed to affect the dark lady, leaving Angie on the floor and walking slowly towards you.

“Are you challenging me?” she asked in a low voice, revealing its lack of use, with a melodic accent that you couldn’t avoid sneaking into your ears and stirring up your thoughts.

You blinked quickly so the melody would leave your mind.

“Are you challenging Mother Miranda?” you asked, your voice breaking, with a subtle tremor in your words, with your hands beginning to sweat.

Maybe to confront her hadn't been a good idea. No matter how much information you could get from your death, you couldn't write it down, you couldn't use it to finish her off if you were lying lifeless at the bottom of that precipice.

The lady in black stepped back with a grunt, kicking the floor roughly in frustration. You, trying not to let her notice, sighed in relief.

“I'm just following orders, if we get along, it would be better for everyone, right?” you said in a softer tone, without a hint of terror, terror that you felt, which you skillfully hid in the depths of your feelings.

“I don't want to get along with you, I don't want you to be here, I don't even want to know that you exist...” the lady hissed, completely forgetting about the puppet. “Is that clear?”

“Like water, my lady,” you said, unable to avoid a mocking tone the lady noticed, approaching again with a firm step, nailing the sound of her heels on the old walls of the house.

“Laugh at me one more time, stupida, and you will pay for it,” she threatened, with a nervous voice, with her chest rising and falling rapidly, thus showing she was not a ghost.

“I'm not laughing at you,” you defended yourself, maintaining that look, the hidden gaze that tried uselessly to stick in your eyes, to blind you with its threats. “By the way, where do I sleep?”

“At the bottom of the river!” Angie shrieked.

You shook your head expectantly, waiting for an answer that was not a threat.

“Piano superiore,” the lady murmured, reaching out to take the puppet's hand, which was making mocking gestures at you “Dai, Angie…”

You crossed your arms and waited for the lady to disappear from your sight to let your shoulders slump, to relax after having been on the verge of death. You didn't expect anything else, but you didn't expect to be in danger so soon either.

With a sigh, watching the danger had passed, you looked at your hands, an old trick you learned to check if you were hallucinating. The power to hallucinate was Donna's most powerful characteristic, and the only one you knew. You would have to be careful.

Picking up your backpack again, you climbed those stairs, stopping halfway, something caught your attention.

A portrait of a woman, a woman with a serious, stoic look, a beautiful woman holding a sinister doll: Donna, there was no other possibility.

Your eyes wandered over hers, over her dark figure, over her features, her pale skin, her serious gaze. She might be dangerous, but she was… Truly beautiful.

Checking again that there was no one around you, you took out your small notebook and, with a pencil, made a quick drawing of that portrait. According to you, to have a little more clear who your target was.

But a question crept into your thoughts as you captured that beauty on the paper: Why does she cover herself?

Surely that portrait was nothing but a memory of the past. No, a Lord couldn't be that beautiful, not when everyone who spoke to you called her a monster. Yes, she would surely be a monster and you, you had just infiltrated its lair.

Your room was small, but it was much better than nothing. The witch's orders seemed to be unbreakable for the Lords. How much the woman in black despised or how dangerous she was didn't matter.

It seemed like interesting information, but you knew it wasn't. Miranda was their Goddess, their creator. Even if you used that pretext to infiltrate, you knew it was stupid. No one in their right mind would confront her but... Donna wasn't in her right mind, right?

That kind of thoughts clouded a bit your collection of interesting data about Lady Beneviento or the picture of that beautiful woman, the one you couldn't help but draw in detail in your notebook, just below your last note:

Mentally ill

The hours passed and you were still in that room, looking for a way to get that information you needed, that weak point the lady surely had.

But alone, sitting on that small bed, reviewing your drawing, your few notes over and over again, you weren't going to get anything clear. At least you were in her territory, and that was such an achievement.

The night would be your best ally.

When the sun stopped illuminating the room, you woke up from that curious waking dream, from that sea of ​​thoughts and memories of that tense conversation with the lady in black. You wouldn't get anywhere sitting still in that room, you would have to start investigating.

Slowly, stealthily, you went down the stairs, feeling the same strange chill as you passed by that portrait, one you knew you would have to avoid looking at if you didn't want to get lost in a million questions.

There didn't seem to be anyone downstairs, everything was dark.

The silence betrayed the creaking of the wood under your steps and the soft beam of light emitted by your small flashlight caused sinister shadows on the walls.

You were never a coward, but a feeling of fear began to stalk you little by little, making that light tremble in your hand.

You were brave, you had faced terrible creatures, you were going to end with all those years of suffering of the villagers, but you still had a terrible defect: your clumsiness.

With a loud crash, you tripped on something on the floor, inevitably rushing towards it.

“Great...” you protested in pain, trying to reach the flashlight you lost in the fall. “Ah!” you shrieked when you illuminated what was in front of you, that black shadow, that woman in mourning who camouflaged herself perfectly in the darkness.

“I told you I didn't want to know that you existed,” she whispered with that same hoarse voice, with a completely passive, indifferent pose, comfortable in the darkness.

“Yeah, well, I...” you stammered, rubbing the knee you hurt when you fell, trying not to show the lady the fear you felt at that moment. “I’ve tripped.”

“I see,” she answered immediately, with an angry tone, crossing her arms, with the light of your flashlight projected on the wall, magnifying her figure, the fear she produced in you.

You stepped back when the lady extended a hand towards you, closing your eyes to avoid that painful death you thought was going to happen. Nothing happened, silence enveloped that place again.

You, distrustful, looked at that pale hand that extended towards you, then at the lady and then at the door that led to the entrance, looking for a way out of that place before that thin hand strangled your neck.

When, again, nothing happened, you understood her intention, although it was hard for you to believe it. Taking a breath, cornered in your own trap, you took the offered hand, feeling a strong pull that lifted you off the floor. That softness, that velvety skin crept into your thoughts.

Did that deserve a note in your notebook or was it a personal opinion?

Mentally ill

Beautiful woman

Soft hands

No, it didn't seem like a fact of interest to your plans, but it did to your heart, which was beating faster and faster.

“Tha, thanks,” you whispered, shaking the dust off your body when, after a few unnecessary seconds, Donna let your hand go, shaking her head in response.

“What were you doing wandering around my house in the dark?” she asked without giving you time to think, to react.

“I...” you said blinking, scratching the back of your neck, forgetting the innate art you had for lying and with which you managed to make the great Mother Miranda trust you. “I was looking, I was looking for the bathroom.”

“The bathroom,” she repeated, with an almost inaudible whisper, separating herself from that uncomfortable proximity. “There's one upstairs, idiota.”

“Hey, there is no need to insult,” you protested with a crooked smile, pointing the flashlight at the figure in mourning.

“I'll do what I want, this is my house and you're an intruder,” Donna replied, covering her head with her hands. “Get that out of my face.”

“I'm, I'm sorry,” you said hastily, lowering the flashlight to the floor. “I didn't mean to annoy you.”

“Your existence is annoying,” she replied gracefully, with a mocking voice but with that same darkness that enveloped her, that enveloped her figure.

“You don't need to say it,” you joked, looking away, cornered by fear, by that darkness that seemed to always accompany Lady Beneviento.

“You're making fun of me again,” she whispered, taking a step towards you, placing herself so close that you could smell a subtle lavender perfume, one that, unintentionally, you already imagined in your ramblings in the room. “It seems you really want to suffer...”

With that threatening and mysterious phrase, the heels clicked again, moving away down a hallway, disappearing into the shadows.

Are you sure she wasn't a ghost?

“Okay... What a crazy freak,” you murmured when the sound of what seemed like an elevator indicated that there was no longer any danger. “It would be better to be careful.”

Nothing, in your little night excursion you didn't find anything interesting. Only books, old movies, blurry photos... Nothing that gave you a clue, something that you could use against the Lord.

The days passed slowly. Your time in the mansion seemed slow, it seemed like it didn't want to pass. The routine was simple: walk around the house during the day, carefully look for the lady, spy on her to know how she acted.

She didn't seem like a horrible being like they said, she just spent her time doing boring things, reading boring books, drinking tea and, above all, making those sinister dolls. Your research was a failure. The notes in your notebook remained the same, without modifying or adding anything else.

But that didn't last long. One night, making sure that the lady was sleeping, you went down to the basement, her little big refuge, the place where she hid from your annoying presence, the place that was dark and gloomy, just like her.

As you walked through those labyrinthine corridors, thoughts assaulted your mind. They weren't cold, calculating thoughts, no.

Donna always made that you were not welcome in her darkness clear but… But she never did anything to get rid of you. You could assume that Miranda's influence stopped the trembling of her hands when you were near, that desire to make you disappear. You didn't think it was like that.

Getting on Lady Beneviento's nerves became an unwanted routine, as if she also was counting the hours, the minutes until you disappeared. That grace was granted to her, your elusive and distrustful attitude always served to keep her away from you, or so you thought.

Sometimes, at night, you thought you saw shadows in the dark mansion, an unmistakable presence that seemed to stalk you in the darkness. You checked several times and there was never anyone. But you didn't do it out of fear, but out of the certainty that you could smell that lavender scent. Somehow you knew Donna lurked in the corners. You notice your presence was only bothersome when you noticed hers.

“Well, this is cool...” you whispered, approaching an old cinema machine, snooping around the old office.

Like a strange current that invaded your body, everything you found in the mansion, no matter how stupid it was, began to seem interesting to you. You no longer carried your notebook with you. You simply retained in your memory anything that involved the dark woman.

To look for weak points, finish her off, that's what you repeated over and over again when you explored.

Little by little, that voice in your head began to camouflage itself with curiosity.

With a sigh, you searched the shelves, filled with books of all kinds, essays on mountain plants, something you knew had to do with her powers, but hadn't delved into, or didn't want to.

“You,” you whispered, picking up a book at random, a book in Italian you knew you couldn't fully understand, but its neglected state caught your attention.

Again, nothing, just a story that didn't interest you. Already wanting to give up and return to the safety of your room, you moved the pages of the book erratically, finding a handwriting, also in Italian, a writing that didn't belong to that book.

Luca has gone completely crazy. He doesn't understand how painful it has been to lose Claudia. I want to scream, cry, end it all, but I can't do it. There's still Donna, my girl, my precious girl...

I should have run away when I had the chance, Donna's illness has only worsened with the death of her sister. Luca is furious, yelling at my little girl, saying she should have been the one who died and not Claudia. It's horrible, it's like hell on earth.

“Wow…” you whispered, taking your time to translate those words, always watching that there were no shadows nearby.

That Miranda is to blame for everything, she follows me with her eyes, she knows I don't trust her.

She puts stupid ideas in my husband's head. I feel like I can't take it anymore, that I should take justice into my own hands, but Donna needs me.

That horrible doll he made to Donna only served to make her lock even more into herself. I know she is sick, but I can't blame her for fearing her father, I do too. He was the one who deformed her face, always him, always Miranda.

Donna, darling, my precious girl, forgive me, but I must do it. If you ever find this, I want you to know that Mom loves you, that she will always love you, and that she is deeply sorry to leave you alone.

Josef will take care of you, my love. He will always take care of you. This is the end of our journey.

I love you, my beautiful baby

Bernardette Beneviento

When you finished reading you froze. It seemed like a hidden diary, thoughts of a mother frightened by a monster, by Donna's father.

Normally nothing that could have made the Lords the way they are would draw your attention enough to move you but that... That turned your stomach.

You had heard rumors, things that people talked about in silence, wild stories about the Beneviento family, but nothing close enough to that terrible truth. Their parents threw themselves off the waterfall, you knew that, but you didn't know the reasons, you didn't know that the father was sick like Donna, you didn't know he was a monster, a real one.

As if that writing had stirred your conscience, you stopped investigating.

You focused only on following the steps of the lady in black, of protecting yourself from the shadows that you knew were chasing you while you slept. Not even you knew that you had such a soft heart.

“I know you're there,” the lady murmured while working in the workshop. It was just another day, just another clumsy act of spying.

Instead of running away, turning over and over that horrible diary, you peeked through the door, your eyes tired and your face sad.

“If you're going to spy on me, you better come a little closer,” she whispered, looking at you through that black veil as you walked erratically towards her.

“I wasn't spying on you,” you said in your defense with the face of a little girl caught in some mischief.

“Save your lies, do you think I'm stupid?” Donna said in a brusque tone, tightly grabbing a piece of cloth. You shook your head, getting closer and closer.

“You spy on me too” you whispered, standing in front of her, feeling stupidly superior just for being up.

“Of course I do,” she admitted without any problem, running the fabric through an old sewing machine. “I don't trust you.”

Well, Donna was right. In the last few weeks your movements had been strangely hampered, as if you were following the scent of lavender, as if that dark figure was calling you. Following her steps, watching her in her daily tasks to add more notes to your investigation, one that you shamefully forgot, one that portrait on the stairs made you forget.

The tension was becoming unbearable. Maybe that was why you weren't trying so hard to be discovered anymore, yes, that was surely why...

“Are you making dolls?” you asked, dissipating that tension again. The lady sighed and looked at you through her veil. Yes, it was a too stupid question.

“No, I’m making cakes,” the lady in black answered ironically, with that whisper of hers, one that you found more and more attractive.

“Well, you know how to joke,” you said, playing along and dragging a chair near her, letting yourself fall down in a disinterested manner.

Maybe it was your imagination, but you thought you heard a laugh coming out of that horrible black fabric.

“I'm surprised Miranda trusted you to watch me,” she commented, sewing the fabric, ignoring your presence again.

“I'm very convincing,” you said with a smile, mesmerized by her meticulous work, by how she gave life to those inert pieces of porcelain. “So… do you make dolls and sell them?”

“Can you leave me alone?” she asked annoyed, stopping sewing, but continuing with her work seconds later.

“If I annoy you that much, why haven't you killed me?” you counterattacked, this time, causing the fabric to get stuck on the machine and incomprehensible curses from the lady in black.

Donna didn't answer. She simply tore the fabric with a furious growl.

“Stupida…” she hissed, fighting against the old machine.

Taking advantage of that confusion, you got up to help her, but the needle scraped your skin, causing a thin thread of blood to fall on the table.

“What are you doing?” Donna protested while you looked at your wound and your cheeks blushed little by little.

“Ouch…” you complained with a sigh. “You're welcome, huh? I was just trying to help you.”

The lady growled, grabbing your arm tightly and looking at your wound. With a sharp pull she lifted you, dragging you into an adjoining room and dropping you into a chair while she searched for something in a drawer.

“What are you doing?” you asked scared, trying to cover up that small hemorrhage. Maybe you had long since passed Donna's limit, a long time ago.

“Shut up,” she snapped, pointing at you with her finger and sitting in a nearby chair, carrying what looked like a first aid kit.

You, scared, unaware of the situation, fought against her grip in a ridiculous way until, with a strong grip that made you scream, she was able to keep you still.

“Wait, wait no...” you protested, closing your eyes to wait for your end.

“Stay still,” she said in a low voice, passing a cotton ball over your wound, causing you to have to stifle a cry of pain.

“Shit...” you said clenching your teeth. Donna stopped and looked at you strangely, or so you guessed.

“Weren’t you so brave?” she whispered, healing you slowly, gently passing the cotton over your wound.

“I didn’t say I was brave,” you said cockily, trying not to look at the blood that soaked the cotton.

Yes, blood was something that scared you quite a bit. Maybe you weren’t the most appropriate person to kill monsters…

“You must be. You have been here for weeks and you haven’t run away,” the lady murmured, pressing the top of the wound while searching for something in the old medicine box.

“Why would I want to run away?” you asked, looking away when you saw a small needle in her hand. “You haven’t done anything to me.”

“Yet,” she said, laughing, yes, laughing.

You shook your head, closing your eyes when you felt the needle sticking into your skin. Your legs moved in protest and she growled again to keep you still.

“Well, apart from stabbing me with that and… Ah!” you screamed, holding back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

“I have to stitch you up, it's a dangerous cut,” Donna whispered, acting impeccably on your arm.

All your thoughts were scrambled, all the ideas you had in your head were confused. The danger you thought you were in vanished, your body relaxed and in your head you only had one thing: the image of that portrait, the beauty you struggled not to see, not to feel when Donna was near.

“Why do you heal me if you don't want me to be with you?” you asked, enduring the pain, which was extraordinarily less serious than you thought.

“Why are you with me if you can't stand me?” she asked back, cutting the thread with which she sewed your wound, sighing with a different, almost sad, tone.

“I didn't say that,” you said, confused by that question so out of context. “You're the one who can't stand me.”

“Certo, I can't stand you,” she murmured, letting your arm go, which you grabbed fearfully, admiring the perfect suture of your wound. “But I've gotten used to you.”

“I guess you don't have many visitors,” you said, moving your arm to get used to the gentle pull of the stitching.

“That's none of your business,” she answered, abruptly closing the medicine box, but not moving from the chair.

“Yeah, that's a no,” you said, shaking your head.

“Loneliness calms me down, it makes me… Forget,” she explained, causing your eyes to open and relax your attitude. Maybe that conversation was the one you were hoping to have, that focus on your research that her presence had made you forget.

“What do you want to forget?” you asked with a confident tone, carefully, not wanting to provoke her anger, you were so close to her.

“That's none of…”

“My business, I know. I'm just curious,” you said interrupting, leaning your back on the chair.

“Am I curious to you?” the lady asked with a strange, confused tone, which you, of course, wanted to take advantage of.

“Yes, you are,” you said with a smile, one you didn't know if she returned, since she was petrified again.

“I don't have time to talk to you, (Y/N),” she finally said, getting up from the chair. You sighed in defeat. “I have work to do.”

“I see,” you said, your gaze downcast, predicting another night of fruitless investigations.

“But you might want to have dinner with me tonight. I don’t know how you can live eating just those disgusting sandwiches,” she said at the door of the room, playing nervously with her hands.

“Are you, are you inviting me to dinner?” you asked, abruptly getting up from the chair, nervous, your heart silencing your thoughts.

The lady, as usual, didn’t answer.

But yes, a hot plate was waiting for you that night, one next to a bottle of wine, next to the lady in black.

A silent dinner, tense like all your time in the house, but soon, it became a subtle exchange of information, erratic comments, points of view about trivial things. It was a conversation, a real one under the light of a candle, under the delicious aroma of the food that dangerous woman prepared for you.

Time passed more and more slowly. Dinners, meals together were becoming more and more frequent. It could be something good, something that would advance your investigation, but quite the opposite.

Donna Beneviento, evil Lord, tormented, unhinged woman, was not that way. She was intelligent, she cared about your wound, she was soft, gentle, meticulous with her dolls…

You couldn’t believe that someone like her was part of Miranda's cult. The hatred, the desire for revenge, to finish her off, were diluted in the water of that horrible waterfall.

Save her, protect her. Those were the words your conscience told you every night. A terrible past that conditioned her future.

It was just a cliché for most villains in stories, but one that was more than effective for you. Every day you looked into the cold eyes of that portrait, you wondered what you could do with her, how you could kill her if, in a matter of days, you began to love her.

Love was perhaps a confusing word, and even more so when that mutual pursuit continued to increase the tension between the two of you. The conversations and the company didn't matter. She continued to pursue you, spy on you and you on her.

Simply, and after debating with your conscience, you came to the conclusion that your motives were no longer the same, they had changed. You didn't want to admit it out loud. You would never do it but... You had fallen in love with your enemy.

One afternoon, after a reassuring walk through the woods, you returned to the estate to face your contradictory feelings again. You no longer carried the notebook with you. You stopped writing on it, since the notes no longer spoke of her weaknesses, but of yours:

Donna Beneviento:

Descendant of the Italian Beneviento family, one of the four founders of the village.

Doll maker

The youngest of them

Covered face

Hallucinogenic powers?

Mentally ill

Soft hands

Horrible past

Beautiful woman

Intelligent

Kind

I have fallen in love with her

When you returned to the mansion, a chill ran through your body. Everything seemed normal, as always, but there was no trace of the annoying Angie, nor of the lady in black, who at that time, used to read quietly in a corner. She could have gone to a meeting, moments that you took advantage of to investigate, but you had not wanted to do so for some time.

Knowing that there was not much time left for another of those dinners, another dinner of those that worsened your feelings, you went up to your room slowly, fixing your gaze on her cold eyes, on the beauty that would soon be your downfall.

The door was open and that put all your senses on alert. There was something strange in the atmosphere, as if everything had stopped, as if the wood had stopped sounding, as if your nose was not able to capture any smell, any presence.

You had spent too much time training, knowing how to act in a dangerous situation. You knew that something bad was happening, that someone, or something was accompanying you in that sinister room.

You looked around slowly, noticing every corner of your messy clothes. Nothing seemed different, but at the same time, everything was.

Your senses picked up a movement, a subtle breeze that made you turn and reach out your hand, finding a piece of fabric in the middle of nowhere, one that shouldn't be there.

“I got you,” you said victoriously, watching how little by little the lady in black materialized in front of you while you held her wrist. “It's not polite to rummage through other people's rooms, don't you think, Donna?” you said, fighting her sobs, her pathetic movements of escape.

“Let me go! This is my house!” she screamed, trying, unsuccessfully, to release herself from your grip. You snorted, fighting against her, using force to push her roughly against the bed, climbing on top of Donna to immobilize her.

“Still, come on…” you hissed, struggling now with both hands, accidentally tripping over the black fabric of her face, revealing the beauty you already sensed, relaxing your movements.

Yes, the very image of the portrait, her very beauty cut by a horrible scar on her right eye. You went blank as your strength didn’t diminish, tightly pressing the lady against your bed as she tried desperately to cover herself.

“Don’t, don't look at me,” she pleaded, her eyes shining, tears running down her cheek as you couldn't look away from that beautiful vision in front of your eyes, the only thing you needed to lose yourself completely. “Basta...”

“Fine,” you said in a soft voice, letting her wrists go but not her hips, letting the black cloth fall to the floor so she wouldn't be able to reach it again.

“I knew you weren't trustworthy,” she sobbed, making a futile effort to cover herself with her hands, something you prevented, fighting her crazy movements. “You were going to, you were going to kill me...”

“What? I...” you said embarrassed, looking away at your notebook, opened to the worst possible page, to the page that explained your plans. You wish she had read her report, you wish she had known how you felt about her.

“Save your lies,” Donna sobbed again, struggling with you. “That's why you were chasing me, right? That's why you were spying on me when you thought I wasn't aware. That was your intention... I should have finished you off.”

“Yes, yes,” you growled. “You should have done it, Donna.”

“Maybe I will do it now, now that I've discovered that everything that... That I thought was, was a lie...” she said, her voice broken by crying, stopping fighting you, remaining almost motionless under your body.

“You should do it quickly,” you whispered, also with tears in your eyes. “I know that saying I didn't want to hurt you won't do any good.”

“How you dare to keep lying?” she protested, moving under you, pushing your chest hard, hurting you. “I... I...”

“If only you'd let me explain...” you said, interrupting that sentence, the sentence you wanted to hear, but that nerves and fear forced you to hide. “I, I don't want to hurt you.”

“You've already done it to me! You've broken my heart!” the lady shouted furiously, ashamed of her words, of admitting a reality that you didn't know was bilateral.

“You've broken mine,” you defended yourself growling, holding the brunette's wrists again. “You've made me forget why I had come.”

“You liar... Liar! You only wanted to talk to me, to get to know me to know my weak points and then... Then kill me!” she shrieked, being partially right, humiliating you by bringing to light your first intentions.

“Yes, you're right, Donna! I wanted to finish you off, all of you! But, but I can't, I can't do it...” you shouted, furious, also impotent and frustrated because your bravery vanished, because your intentions moved away from heroism, because you had fallen madly in love with your enemy.

“Why? Do you pity me?” Donna asked through clenched teeth, fixing her gaze on yours.

You didn't want to answer that.

“You were spying on me too,” you hissed, letting your tears soak the black fabric of her dress. “I, I just wanted… I wanted to know more things about you…”

“To kill me,” she answered in a dark voice, making you feel strangely dizzy. That was your end.

“No, fuck! I wanted to know more things about you because… Because… I'm, I'm in love with you,” you confessed, closing your eyes before her powers took you to the abyss.

“What? I, I don't believe you,” the lady stammered, changing anger into surprise, sobbing harder.

“It doesn't matter, it's the truth,” you said, letting her wrists go and running a hand through your hair, with her warm body beneath yours. “Kill me if you want.”

“Prove it,” she said, moving, challenging you with her gaze. “Shows that you weren't spying on me to kill me, that, you wanted to get to know me, to find out who you were falling in love with, just like me.”

You, ignoring her own confession, quickly reviewed the events that had led you there, the stupid way in which the lady in black had attracted your attention to the point of losing your mind, of falling in love with her beauty, with the subtle and melancholic darkness that surrounded her.

Without thinking twice, you bent down, quickly capturing the brunette's salty lips, losing yourself in the taste of her tears, in the softness of her skin, catching her off guard, in the middle of a desperate cry, sealing with a kiss of love that game of chases and few words, the stupid game of stupid lovers.

“Is it enough?” you asked, slowly separating yourself from her, losing contact with her addictive clumsy lips. Donna looked at you curiously, not knowing what to say, bringing her hand to your face, to your hair, relieved by your actions, because you weren't going to be her end, but her beginning.

“No, it's not,” Donna whispered, kissing you back, more confident, hugging you, caressing your arms, your back, everything she could reach.

The room fell silent, the bed creaked under your weight, your breathing was increasingly erratic, your lips refused to separate.

Suddenly you decided to surrender to love, to the feeling that endangered your plans. There were no Mirandas, no Lords, there was no desire to be the saving heroine, there was only desire for one thing, desire to love.

You pulled away, not wanting to lose sight of her beauty, her bright eye, her lips wet from your kisses. Maybe you had gone crazy. Maybe you were madly in love. You didn't care anymore.

“Love me, please,” she said, pulling your face back into kisses, ever firmer, more confident, with that melodic voice, the accent that drove you crazy, those words that asked for something you had wanted for a long time.

You nodded, bringing your hands to your shirt, freeing yourself from it in the middle of that tireless festival of kisses, of exploration, of incredibly soft hands running over the increasingly exposed parts of your skin.

Her arms danced, her hips moved, making contact with each other. The heat was unbearable, the need for the darkness to leave her body was almost desperate.

Her nakedness was better than a miracle, than a vision, than a revelation. Her white skin was shining with your kisses, with your caresses, a skin that no one was lucky enough to run over, to delight in.

Everything was beautiful, Donna was beautiful, all of her, her whole body, her black hair tangling in your fingers. Miranda was pathetic. You just wanted to worship Donna.

Your already naked bodies danced with each other, joined together, fit together as if that was really their place, as if your wetness was made only to be shared. The fear in the lady's gaze changed to lust when your hunger forced you to go down her breasts, down her belly, while your hand tangled with hers, while panting had replaced the wet sound of your kisses.

The smell of her arousal forced you to moan, to want to dive into her depths, a sweet smell mixed with her lavender perfume, with the discreet moans that accompanied the movements of your tongue.

Everything was wet, it was love, passion. There were erratic movements of her hips while you savored that hidden passion, the taste of a defeat that was not so hidden. With your fingers you played with her most sensitive spot, causing Donna to lose her calm, to shake her hips demanding more pleasure, more of you.

You didn't even think if it might be uncomfortable for her, if, as you suspected, your fingers were the first to roam her most intimate place. Nothing was important enough to abandon your task, the task of proving to her, and to yourself, that you had fallen in love with your enemy.

“(Y/N)… Don’t, don't stop,” the lady moaned, shy, embarrassed by her own pleasure when your fingers joined the caresses of your tongue. The moisture slid down them, her interior eagerly claimed you, as if she had also fallen into your trap.

You didn't want to say anything. You didn't want to interrupt those moans, those movements, those groans that they provoked in the brunette, the forbidden pleasure of your fingers inside of her.

Screams of pleasure, words you didn't understand, the shaking of her body yielding to your skilled hands… It was a spectacle you didn't want to miss, one you enjoyed, imagining you would be next, that she would also be inside of you, loving you.

 She loved her enemy too.

Sweat, moans, pleasure, love... It was a good summary for that strange afternoon, for the end of your adventures, for the beginning of something much better, of a new life, with her.

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I suddenly had a thought of GhostSoap being normal human beings and doing normal human being things and wanted to write some stuff for it.

1) Simon always forgets to replace the fuckin toilet paper and Johnny loses his mind over it every single time

2) Johnny has these quiet little snores that whistle out every time he breathes out and while it’s mildly annoying some nights Simon still finds it so endearing

3) Simon hogs the blankets, even in summer cause he’s just always cold, no matter what. Johnny tends to just snuggle in real close to Simon when he gets cold

4) Johnny is the cook of the house. He’s really good at it (his mother refused to let him leave home without knowing how to survive on his own) but he can’t bake. Simon’s the opposite where he can bake (his mum loved baking, taught him everything she knew) but can’t cook to save his life

5) Johnny’s always stealing Simon’s leftovers or hidden treats and Simon has threatened to stab him once or twice over it (it never stops Johnny from doing it again)

6) Simon totally found a stray cat and got the ‘you wanna keep him, you look after him’ talk and he has never been more devoted to looking after another living being after the whole thing with his family

7) Johnny’s got a million and one things in their bathroom all for the sake of looking after his hair and skin and what not and he definitely sits Simon down on the toilet seat every so often so he can do the same for him

8) Johnny seeks validation near constantly. Simon doesn’t know why but he always, always makes sure Johnny knows he’s appreciated and doing good and whatever else the man needs validation on

9) When Simon has night terrors the way to calm him down is to just let him cling to you. Don’t speak or anything just let him hold you and let him reassure himself that your alive and well. Sometimes he’ll be ready to talk about it in the morning, other times he’s content to let the memories go and just keep going

10) Johnny is the worst at taking out the trash. Since they live in a semi-old apartment complex they had to take their rubbish all the way downstairs when the bin in their place got full and Johnny fucking hates it

11) When one of them get put on leave and have to go back to the apartment by themselves they’ll play the other persons music and cook their favourite foods (or try at least) to try and fool themselves into thinking they’re not alone in their home

12) Simon totally has a stuffed toy that belonged to Joseph and while it sits on his shelf he was still terrified Johnny was going to say something bad about it or try and get rid of it (that’s happened once with an ex) but Johnny saw it, called it cute and then proceeded to look after it when Simon couldn’t

13) Johnny may not look it but he’s a bit of gardener. He’s got a windowsill full of herbs in the kitchen and their balcony has some random plants that he doesn’t actually know the name or origin of but he looks after them and has very specific instructions for Ghost to follow when he’s not around

14) Simon’s friends with the old guy that runs the convenience store down the street from their apartment and not because he tried to befriend the guy or anything, but because the guy thought Simon looked funny with his mask and decided he was going to favour him out of all of his customers

15) The neighbours tried hitting on Simon once and Johnny happened to open the door and heard them flirting with his boyfriend. He got so possessive that he made out with the bigger man against their door jamb for like 5 minutes until Simon pulled him inside. The news spread very quickly after that

16) The apartment complex have a betting pool going about what they do for a living because they hold such weird hours and will disappear for months at a time. None of them wanna ask the two though cause they’re all a little scared of the both of them

17) Simon’s a bookworm and if it weren’t for their tiny apartment he’d have his own, personal library filled to the brim with books

[azsazz]

You Keep Me Sharp and Test My Worth in Blood

Vampire!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's turned you into a vampire and brought you an offering.

Warnings: Blood, gore.

Word Count: 2,229

Notes: Idk about this one but...here it is 🤷🏼‍♀️

_________________________________________

A groan forces itself from your lips when you wake. 

Your head is pounding, mouth throbbing like you’ve tried to chew through the cobblestones on the long path flanking the Sidra, and everything hurts.

Your one saving grace is that it’s night. No sunlight to pour through the curtains, and as you blink your eyes open in a slow gathering of your surroundings, you realize you’re not entirely sure if you’d be able to recognize if it were daytime, with the thick velvet draped curtains hanging from ceiling to floor.

But there are no faelights blaring down at you, only soft, tastefully placed ones throughout the room, casting its entirety in soothing, buttery light. 

Sitting up, you brace a hand against the bare wooden ground beneath you. It’s so cold that you can’t feel your fingertips, your body numb. A stroke of dizziness strikes your already tender head and it takes a few forceful blinks to right your doubling vision.

You’re in the middle of a foyer, but it isn’t one that you recognize. Faded paintings line the walls, their once vibrant colors yellowed and fraying, but there doesn’t seem to be a single speck of dust on the intricately crafted onyx frames.

The furniture is just as deep, drinking in the light like a void. Velvety couches cloaked in a cavernous navy, looking so rich and untouched, as if no one’s ever sat on them, border a hearth, its fire so large the flames seem to lash out at you as if to caress you with its warmth, licking up the sides of the dark stone.

Your stomach churns at the slight movement, aching for food, but the thought of biting into something with how tender your mouth is sounds like the last thing you want to do.

Running your tongue around your dry mouth, you count your teeth, because the only explanation as to why everything is so painful is if you had been hit or hurt your jaw in any way. The last thing you remember was locking lips with a very handsome–

You jolt as your tongue comes into contact with something sharp. You hiss, tasting blood immediately, thick and rich, and you lick over the area again, tentatively this time. You stiffen in your spot, and despite the large fire in the hearth, the room grows cold.

Your teeth are still there, you note, but now…now they’re longer, sharper, as if tearing into a delicious steak would be much easier, although you’re not sure if your stomach is screaming at you to bite into a raw piece of meat, or something not cooked at all, but something pulsing with life…

“You’re awake,” a soft voice startles you. You spin around to face whoever has arrived so sneakily behind you while you were preoccupied, and gasp in horror at the view before you.

He’s a handsome male, the sight of him nearly taking your breath away. His dark hair is loose around his face, disheveled as if he’s been in a fight of his own. He kneels before you. His golden eyes aren’t full of life like the sun, but dull like the coin you’d thrown into the Sidra after making a wish…

He certainly looks like your wish come true.

But that’s not why you had made that terrified noise. It’s what lies in front of him that has a scream burning the back of your dry throat, daring to rip from your mouth in fear.

A male lies on the wooden floor, gurgling and gasping, clawing at the ground for your help.

His green eyes are frantic, begging, pleading, one hand clutched to his crimson painted throat, the other trying to leverage himself towards you, as if you might be able to save him from the male perched eagerly at his back.

You watch, frozen, as blood sprays onto the rich flooring as he tries to speak, and the sharp tang of his metallic blood has your gaze zeroing in on the wound. Your stomach screeches and your pupils dilate, lips parting without your permission to take a deeper inhale of the abundant, tinny scent. It sparks something within you, and you cringe away from the male as he reaches for you, fear-filled eyes begging for help.

The man’s eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat, his hands freezing as he catches sight of your elongated canines.

Flickering your gaze from the helpless male between you and the one behind him, a predatory gleam in his wild, golden gaze, the words slip as the horror of the situation catches up to you. 

“What have you done?”

He blinks once, twice, and that wild predatory look seeps away as his gaze turns on you in a curious manner. He cock his head to the side, brows twitching as if to pull into a look of confusion. It would be cute if it weren’t for the fresh blood on his hands and the man fighting for his life at the both of your feet.

“I got him for you.”

Your mouth parts in horror and you glance down at the male struggling for air. The sound is jarring, his chokes and gurgles ringing loudly throughout the room. It’s the only noise you notice in the house, or maybe it’s the only one you can focus on at the moment.

You shove yourself away at his words. Something about the way he’s looking eagerly at you, eyes flickering with playful hunger as his gaze drifts down to the male, is throwing you. The male’s arms flail, spraying blood everywhere, and you watch how the dark haired male’s tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth to lap up a drop. 

His body shudders with excitement while yours shakes with fear.

“For me? What do you mean?” Your voice is unsteady, fingers curling against the smooth flooring with unease.

Those gold eyes settle on you again but this time they seem to go soft. He looks like he wants to reach out to you, but you keep slowly trying to back away, and his unnatural stillness is unnerving.

“You need to eat,” he urges, shoving the male closer to you. He slides through his own pool of blood, twisting and choking as he tries to fight off the male’s hands on him. The speed at which it happens is nearly too quick for you to follow and the crimson puddle moves like a wave and you can’t scramble back fast enough, the fabric of your skirts drinking up the liquid.

Your stomach roils.

“Eat?” You question dazed, like all of this is finally catching up to you. The gore, the blood, the handsome male, your surroundings. Where even are you? 

Your stomach growls in response to his words, agreeing with the strange male across from you.

“Yeah,” you nod, and he smiles. “Eat. There’s this place down in the Rainbow that’s fantastic. They have my favorite–”

His face turns stony and you make a choked noise as your words cut off on their own. You turn frantic, trying to force the sentence from your mouth, any words, but your tongue won’t let you. It’s as if you’ve suddenly gone mute.

“No,” the male with the dark gaze stares down at you. His aura is no longer curious and playful, but swims around him like dark shadows. Fury ripples through the room making the flames in the fireplace flicker. “You will feed here,” he nods at the nearly dead male at his feet, “From him.”

“From…” You trail off, looking again to the gravely wounded male on the floor. His movements are sluggish now, and he’s become much quieter, allowing your screaming thoughts the attention they were yearning for. His fingers are clamped around the mottled wound at his neck once more, but you can tell he’s fading fast.

The deep umber of the male’s gaze when you look back at him is startling. It makes you nervous to have his rapt attention solely on you, his deep voice growling demands when you don’t even know his name.

“Azriel.”

You flinch. “What?”

“You were wondering my name. My name is Azriel.”

Azriel. You mouth his name and his smile twists as he watches you taste it on your lips. The motion reveals a flash of fangs and you're stunned for a moment as they gleam in the firelight, sharp and white.

“Go on,” he urges, and like this, with that soft smile and sparkling eyes he looks like he had last night, the look on his face stirring your memories of how handsome he looked with the moon shining down on him. He was quite charming– “While it’s still fresh.”

The fluttering feeling in your stomach fizzles out when you realize he’s gesturing to the male at your feet. Azriel’s fingers are covered in his blood, playing with the warm puddle of red at his feet before he brings them up to his mouth, licking the remnants of crimson from his scarred flesh.

“Unless you would prefer I feed you, my Lady.”

My Lady?

Feed you?

“You want me to eat him?” you ask incredulously, staring at him in horror. 

Azriel only laughs, and it cuts through the seriousness of the situation like a blade through butter. It makes your heart flutter in your chest and if there wasn’t a male bleeding out between the two of you you might like to move closer, taste that laugh on your tongue.

His nostrils flare and his eyes darken like he knows your exact thoughts.

“Not eat him, sweetheart. You’re going to drink his blood.”

“Drink his blood,” you echo, assessing the male on the ground. With both you and Azriel quiet you can actually pick up on the slowing of his heart. The spicy tang of his blood does smell incredible, and if Azriel had looked that good only licking the red from his hands, how might he look if he–

In a flash he’s in front of you, warm hand pressed to the curve of your jaw and drawing you into a feverish kiss. You gasp against his lips, hand snapping up to clutch at his wrist because he’d startled you, but you quickly melt into him, pushing even further up onto your knees as he pulls you flush to his chest.

The taste that he shares with you makes you see stars. The sweet, rich taste of the blood makes your own rush, erotically exhilarating. It’s all you can do to hold yourself back from tearing at Azriel’s clothes, instead burying your fingers into his silky black locks as he ravages you with his mouth. 

His grip around you turns firmer, and his cock strains against his trousers. He so terribly wants to take you upstairs to his room, tear that soiled dress from your hips and have his way with you, but when your new fangs split his lip and you begin suckling on his blood, he’s reminded of how you need to be fed.

Azriel shoves the feeling of you lapping at his lip from his mind, achingly wanting you to be sucking at other parts of him. His cock twitches at the mewl you give when he gently removes you from his mouth, but thankfully he doesn’t move far, twisting you around and sitting you between his legs.

You can hardly breathe with his cock pressed against your back. You can feel exactly how big he is, and you resist the urge to writhe against him as he brushes his fingers down your arms in a soothing motion.

You settle for pressing back into his chest, so Azriel knows exactly your motive.

“Soon, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear, reaching out to drag the no longer breathing male closer to you both. 

Your breath hitches and you wet your lips as you think about how it had tasted, absolutely intoxicating.

Azriel settles the dead male up against his side. His head lolls on a limp neck but Azriel is quick to right him, offering you his neck as he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear sensually. 

“Go ahead, love. Drink your fill, and I’ll take you upstairs.” 

You nearly moan at his words, but staring down at the male in your lap you can’t help but feel badly for him, having met an untimely end at Azriel’s hands. His blood is slipping down the sides of his neck and onto your lap and it makes you cringe, your stomach roil.

“It won’t always be so messy,” Azriel soothes, a steady presence at your back. “This one had a little more fight in him than I gave him credit for.” He pecks your neck over the scars he’d left on your neck from the night before. He can’t wait to see your reaction to them.

When you pause, rubbing your fingers through his thick blood and grimacing at the way it soaks into your clothes, Azriel is quick to reassure you. 

“You look beautiful with all of that blood on you, love,” he purrs. “And if you don’t think so, I’ll be happy to lick it clean from every crevice on your body, but you need to eat, pretty, you need your energy.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, leaning forward and sinking your fangs into the male’s neck.

[wolfgiselle]

Cage Wi-fi

"Can I ask, once again, how it's even possible we get wi-fi down here?"

Adam knew he was beating a dead horse, at this point, by getting worked up over this, but he was only human. Even in these trying times of Angels and Demons—of cages in Hell that were supposed to hold the literal Devil but, for some reason, also currently held him and the Archangel Michael—he needed things to make sense. Nothing had been going as it should lately. Not for a long time. Yet, here he was, trying to find logic where it seemed none existed.

"I assume the computer and its 'wi-fi' are here for entertainment purposes. There's not much else to do down here," Michael murmured. His face was practically hidden behind the screen. It had been for the last few days. At least, Adam thought it was days (Hell time was different, Cage time worse). Adam hoped Michael wasn't becoming addicted—that was all they needed—but there wasn't anything he could do to get it away from him.

Lucifer, at least, seemed to find Michael's newfound fascination and obsession amusing. "The demons snuck one down. I enjoyed the machine last I used it, so I, uh…let's go with 'asked' them to bring one down."

Adam should've guessed Lucifer was behind this. Even when he searched his brain, he couldn't figure out how a simple laptop could cause much, if any, damage. The whole situation seemed harmless. It was because Lucifer was the one who wanted it that he couldn't help but be suspicious.

His relationship with the Devil was mostly cordial. Michael had made it clear early on his vessel was off-limits when it came to torture or harassment. But the warning had ended up being unnecessary. Lucifer had, at first, focused all of his attention on his own vessel, Sam.

Adam had felt a bit bad then that Sam was experiencing such a thing while Adam was getting off scot-free. But, as he'd understood it, it was Sam's fault they were down there. Sam had decided to jump and take Lucifer with him—dragging him and Michael along for the ride. For such reasons, Adam also couldn't help but feel a little vindictive himself after all was said and done. All Adam had wanted was to see his mother and help save the world.

Lucifer did torture Sam for a while, but he must've gotten bored or finally calmed down because one day—for no discernable reason—he stopped. Sam didn't react as though he'd stopped, though. Instead, he kept screaming and tearing into himself, yelling words like "Stop!" or "No!" even though Lucifer was no longer touching him, basically torturing himself.

It almost made him relieved for Sam's sake (as well as his own) when, not long after, they saw Castiel appear. He shot into the cage with as little subtlety as a flaming meteor to snatch him, somehow managing to grab Sam's body but fly off, leaving his soul behind. He hadn't even spared a glance for Adam, despite Michael's (very much appreciated) attempt to get his attention and remind him.

The results of Sam existing in the cage without his body were a trial of their own. If Sam had seemed off or unhinged before, he was an absolute basket-case now. Lucifer even became desperate enough to try and calm him down, to no avail.

Then, once again, they had a visitor. This time 'Death' of all things. (And had Adam mentioned before he wasn't cut out for this?) While Adam was busy trying to fathom the idea of Death having a physical manifestation—on top of still trying to come to terms with Angels, Demons, and… well, everything else he'd ever thought was fantasy being real—Death retrieved Sam's soul.

Death, at least, was polite enough to acknowledge them. Adam included.

"I'm sorry, but the deal was only for one. Dean made his choice," he had said to him.

He'd immediately understood. It hurt, but he wasn't surprised. Their relationship had been short and brief, and for all they'd gone on about family and tried to appeal to him with that argument, he'd meant what he said when they first met. His mom was his family. She was the one he'd been doing all this for.

After Sam was gone, Adam worried Lucifer would get bored and come after him. After a while of showing no such inclination, though, Adam relaxed.

Adam was also surprised when Michael and Lucifer didn't fight each other. He'd been under the impression that had been the whole point of the Apocalypse. Michael had pointed out that neither could kill the other as long as they were down here. The cage kept whatever was in it alive. Fighting would be an exercise in futility.

The two of them still argued. But it was more like your average brotherly back-and-forth (if you considered disagreements over whether God would return and save them, or whether humans deserved to live or were insignificant ants that polluted and destroyed all God's other creations average).

Adam was doing okay. He figured for a guy stuck in Hell (possibly for all eternity), he was holding together pretty well. There was just some confusion over the computer.

"If we can get a signal down here, could we send messages to Earth?" Adam asked.

"And who were you planning on sending messages to?" Lucifer drawled, his human manifestation sprawled out against one of the corner cage walls. That was another thing that confused Adam. This wasn't their 'true' form he was seeing.

When Michael first appeared to him, he had been pure light. His presence had been so bright and heavy it'd felt both like staring directly at the sun and, somehow, being surrounded by it. Michael had later told him it was a miracle he'd been able to look upon him at all. Apparently, it was common for people to burn their eyes out when directly looking at them outside of a vessel. The Winchester blood that'd made it possible for him to be a vessel for Michael period must have saved him.

This meant he'd seen Michael before and had at least an idea of what an Angel could look like through human eyes. He also thought he'd caught a few glimpses of Lucifer when he was still torturing Sam. But he wasn't sure if what he'd seen was accurate after so long. Or if what he'd seen at the time had been distorted by Michael back then, trying to keep him coddled up within his…well, wings in an attempt to keep the awful things happening in front of him from view. As if not seeing Sam's torture made him any less aware of it happening. In some ways, the not seeing, the not knowing, was worse.

Lucifer's image—if his sneaked looks had been accurate—gave off the opposite impression of Michael's. If Michael was the sun, then the Devil was a black and oily hole, primed and ready to suck off or destroy any of the light that wandered near.

Adam wondered if Lucifer stayed in this humanoid form lately (despite his proclaimed hatred for the species) because he hated what had become of his original form or if it would be presumptuous of him to believe he chose to look that way to ease any discomfort Adam might've once shown at his true but now contaminated, visage.

Surely, the Devil would prefer for him to be uncomfortable? No matter how well they seemed to get along, it made little sense for Lucifer to play nice with the vessel of the brother he'd set out to kill. He'd never question such things out loud, though. Or admit to his confusion regarding the…Angel? Archangel? Devil…? Oh—whatever classification he considered himself now. Adam figured as long as he wasn't getting tortured, the status quo was best kept as it was.

"I don't really have anyone to message," he replied, remembering Lucifer's question after way too long a pause.

"Not even the Winchesters? They're your family, after all." Lucifer said it with little inflection, not at all as if he was intending mockery. But Lucifer knew he hated to be reminded of his blood ties to the brothers and how little such a tie had come to mean. Sometimes, Adam thought Lucifer missed Sam, and that was why he always brought them up when they were no longer a necessary topic of conversation.

"You know, very well, I wouldn't wanna talk to them, even if I could. They already know I'm down here. What else am I gonna say to 'em? 'Hey guys, it's your brother—you know, Adam? The guy you left in Hell? Yeah, remember him? That's me.' Nope—not at all interested in having that conversation. I was speaking in hypotheticals. Like, does social media work down here? Could we actually, like… set up a Facebook page or write a blog and call it "The Hell-Cage Experience? That would probably get a lot of page views even if nobody took it seriously."

"Yeah…I didn't understand half of what you said right there, but the computer should be capable of everything it was when it was on Earth. Of course, if you order something, we're obviously not getting it. I learned that lots of humans used that machine or ones like it to acquire food."

"Yeah." Adam brushed his hand through his hair, mentally shaking his head again at the added absurdity to this already mind-breaking situation. What was his life that he was having a casual conversation about computer usage with the Devil? In literal Hell? Adam needed to get over this. He was starting to sound like a broken record.

Music suddenly started playing from the computer for the first time since the device had appeared. Although Michael's human manifestation (an almost duplicate of himself with an added Angel aura) didn't jump or display any sign of startlement, the place where his wings would be visual when displayed distorted and, for a moment, the room became slightly breezy, portraying the Angelic version of the same thing.

Adam didn't recognize the song but could admit it was catchy. What was Michael even watching? He could admit to being a little jealous that he didn't have his own computer down here to whittle the time away—If Lucifer was going to insist on ignoring the laws of reality and physics by having a working computer down here, couldn't he have at least gotten them all one? Why was Lucifer even letting Michael hoard the thing in the first place if Lucifer had it brought here for himself? No way was he about to ask, though. Not for his own computer or about whatever his Angel companion was watching.

Lucifer had no such compunctions, of course. In fact, looking at that human face, which showed his emotions maybe a little too well, Adam would say the Devil looked a little too much like the cat that had captured the canary but wanted to play more with it before he ate it. Adam was instantly suspicious.

"Sooo…what's that you're looking at, Michael?" Lucifer asked, sounding almost like he already knew and just wanted to hear the answer aloud. The whole thing made the human nervous, and he wasn't even sure why.

Adam glanced back at Michael. He didn't seem horrified, angry, or any other emotion the human might've expected if some joke or prank had been pulled on him like he had every other time Lucifer had gotten the better of him while down here. In fact, if he had to guess based on familiarity with his own facial expressions, he would say Michael looked curious.

"It appears to be a live performance of the Winchester Gospel," Michael said. As if that simple sentence alone was self-explanatory.

"A live performance of…what?" Why were the Winchesters being mentioned again? And by Michael of all people. His Archangel roommate usually agreed with Adam that it was best they weren't discussed. The topic had negative connotations for them all. It only led to bad moods and tension.

Suddenly unable to hold back his own curiosity, Adam deduced that it was safe enough to leave his claimed corner of the cage to approach. It was only Michael, after all. He'd already spent a lot of time cuddled up within his wings. He'd felt what it was like to have that being inside him: for some moments, what it was like to share all thoughts and feelings with another without walls separating their personhood. There might as well be no more boundaries left between them to break.

Once he was practically on top of Michael—trying to get a good look at the screen he'd become affixed to—the Archangel, still perfectly attuned to him and his needs from their joining, moved the computer from his lap to in front of him and bundled him into the cleared space. Now, nothing stopped him from getting a good view of the computer. He was a lot more comfortable, too.

It only took him a couple of minutes to register what he was seeing. An 'understanding' of what he'd seen didn't end up following close behind.

There on the screen, clear as day, were Sam and Dean. At least he was pretty sure it was Sam and Dean. If not, these people were dead wringers, and…. wait, no…that was their Impala. It was definitely them.

"What the fuck am I even watching right now?"

"Weren't you listening? Michael said it was a live performance of the Winchester Gospel."

Adam jumped slightly at hearing Lucifer's voice suddenly coming from behind him. He hadn't even noticed him move. He'd been too distracted by the video—whatever it was supposed to be. Michael rested his cheek on his forehead and held him tighter as if trying to offer comfort.

"Yes, I heard him," Adam answered, trying not to sound too smart or snappish (just because Lucifer had, so far, respected Michael's demand to leave him alone, that didn't mean he was going to push it by being purposefully rude) "I just don't know what you mean by Winchester Gospel. Do you mean the prophecy that said they were supposed to be your vessels for the Apocalypse? What does a…, um, TV show?—with them in it—have to do with that?"

"The Winchester Gospel isn't the prophecy, exactly. Not in the way that you're thinking, anyway. But I guess you could call it that since it was written by a prophet."

"Prophet?" That was the first he'd heard about them. Adam supposed he shouldn't be surprised that prophets were real, too, since it seemed pretty much every other imaginary thing had turned out to be.

"Prophets are humans born with the ability to read and understand God's word. The Winchester Gospel was the written version of the Winchester's story leading up to the Apocalypse. A prophet would have been able to see it himself for documentation purposes; think of a modern-age Bible with the brothers smack-dab at the center of it."

Adam tried to take in this information while being distracted by the scene of a horrified Sam screaming up at his girlfriend as she burned to death pinned to the ceiling.

Yikes.

He wasn't particularly fond of either Winchester right now, but they did get the shitty end of the stick, didn't they? The people around them, or in any way connected to them, seemed to die in rather gruesome ways.

"Wait," he said, realizing something. "If it's like a new-age Bible written by a human, does that mean it's available for anybody to read the same way the actual Bible is? And if it's about the Winchesters and the Apocalypse, we're all in it, too, right? Even me?"

"I am soooo glad you asked," Lucifer replied. It didn't escape Adam's notice that he sounded practically giddy. He moved to where Adam could see him, shooting him a wide smile (frightening) before he huddled beside them and took control of the computer.

Lucifer exited the TV show—which had continued on to another episode—with a casual, "We can watch the rest of that later," and typed something into the Google search bar. Seeming to find what he was looking for with a satisfied "ah, ha," Lucifer turned the computer back around. "See for yourself."

Adam had been briefly distracted by wondering why Michael hadn't fought for the computer when Lucifer grabbed it but focused again as soon as he processed what he was looking at.

"What on Earth? Are you fucking serious!?"

"Well, we're certainly not on Earth anymore…" Lucifer started, but Adam wasn't listening.

The website the Devil had switched to seemed to be some sorta fan-made page. The background was all black, the continuing image of pentagrams a recurring theme. There was a banner with a picture of the Impala in it and a stylized font spelling out the word 'Supernatural' over the top of it.

There appeared to be books for sale on the site with the same series title. Was this supposed to be the Winchester Gospel? These books looked like cheap drugstore romance-novel-trash… Much like the kind Adam's mother would buy and sneak into the cart and then hide under her mattress when they got home. They were one of the only splurges she made for herself. Kate Milligan never realized that her son snuck into her room when she wasn't home (often) to read those secret books. It was the closest sometimes Adam could get to porn before he'd had his own computer at home. These books couldn't be as important as the Bible: Not looking like this.

He reached out and scrolled over to an icon titled 'characters,' determined to answer his question on whether he was included in this trash.

Did he even want to be?

No, not really.

But the idea of being forgotten, not just by the people who'd claimed him as family but by the entire world, instilled a sudden existential dread.

It took scrolling through tons of names he didn't even recognize to finally find his own, and it was with a strange mixture of relief and trepidation that he clicked on it.

A page with a picture of himself and some general information popped up—which was weird enough, but he could get over it; he was most disturbed by the info section and its accuracy despite the brevity.

"Apparently, I'm only in about four episodes of this show and two books. But one of my main appearances doesn't count because it was a ghoul pretending to be me, and the other doesn't because it was Michael. That's bullshit!"

Adam wasn't even sure why he was mad. It's not like he wanted people to be able to watch his life unfold. As he continued to look through his character page, though, he couldn't help but feel robbed—or like he was being made a mockery of somehow.

"Yawn. This is getting boring now."

Lucifer took control of the computer back, and Adam let him, unsure where else to go and not sure he even wanted to see more. He had the sneaking suspicion that being bombarded with this crap had been Lucifer's intent all along and that he and Michael were just along for the ride. 'Why' Lucifer wanted to watch, read, or interact with any of this was beyond him. Maybe he just wanted to watch himself, but Adam didn't think it would be fun to watch the events of their last year or so re-enacted when it was already such a misery experiencing them.

"It'd take forever to read through these books or watch the show. I'm sure none of us want to spend all our time staring at Sam and Dean's ugly mugs, no matter how limitless it currently is. Sooo…I say we check out some of this fan content first. Music videos, fanfiction, blogs, pairings: I don't even know some of these terms, but they all sound interesting. Humans come up with some of the most depraved—"

"Fanfiction!?" Adam practically yelped, interrupting what was sure to be another 'humans suck' rant from Lucifer he wasn't quite in the mood to withstand. Adam hadn't even given a thought to fanfiction. An old friend of his had been obsessed with Star Trek to near insanity and had introduced him to the concept by forcing him to read a story they'd written using the show's characters. Adam had learned a lot about his friend that day, and he'd never been able to watch an episode of Star Trek with a clean mind again. It had made his mother's erotica seem like child's play.

"Well, that's an interesting reaction," was all Lucifer had to say. Damn it! He should've controlled himself better. Adam could already see the cursor heading towards that 'cursed' word.

"Wait! You really don't want to…see any of that…" Adam trailed off, seeing Lucifer was no longer paying attention to him. Michael's eyes were still glued to the computer, and Adam wondered if he'd glanced away from it even once since it'd appeared down here.

"So 'fanfiction' is 'fan' stories written by fans about certain characters and events. I don't see the problem here. What wouldn't I want to see?"

"Weren't you just saying, 'Humans come up with some of the most depraved—' and so on? You telling me you can't imagine what could be terrible about stories possibly written about 'our' lives?"

Adam knew he shouldn't be saying this even as it came out of his mouth. It'd be smarter to let Lucifer think the topic is dull. Maybe part of him wanted Lucifer to suffer what he'd once had to endure. Then again, the Devil had a strange sense of humor. He was just as likely to find the whole thing amusing. What the fuck did Adam know? He'd almost suspect torturing him, and Michael, with fanfiction, was actually part of his motive here if it weren't for his seemingly ignorant confusion on the topic. If Adam had learned anything, it was that Lucifer was manipulative. But he never lied.

"Depraved?" Lucifer asked with new interest, his face inching closer to the screen.

Yeah.

He wasn't faking that.

Adam resigned himself to the inevitable and braced for impact. Being a minor 'character' might be his only saving grace here.

"I wouldn't get too excited. Don't say I didn't warn you when you find something you don't like," Adam warned. Lucifer getting pissed off would benefit none of them.

"Oh, I see. So, this is where pairings come into play. I wonder…"

Adam caught Lucifer's glance at him out of the corner of his eye and the following smirk. So much for that 'saving grace'. He was clearly Lucifer's first target.

"You were so upset about not having many appearances. About being the unimportant brother—the spare—even here."

"Brother—" Michael finally chipped in again, and Adam recognized his warning tone. Lucifer sure liked to kick below the belt and, not so surprisingly, play with fire.

Adam tried to control his face enough so his scowl wasn't obvious, but had a feeling he'd failed spectacularly. He snuggled further into Michael's arms—his only comfort down here—and felt his body relax when the Angel squeezed him even tighter.

Thankfully, Lucifer only rolled his eyes and mumbled what Adam was sure was 'so sensitive' before continuing with his clicking, undeterred.

"Well, look at that! Most of the 'fanfiction' here involves you and Michael in a sexual or romantic relationship. Wow, big brother! Never thought I'd see you degrade yourself this way. Even if it's only in a piece of fiction written by humans."

Michael's posture straightened, and he could almost imagine the look of contempt he'd be sending Lucifer even with his back to him. Adam rubbed the Angel's arm, attempting to return comfort and calm.

"Not that I can blame the humans for speculating about how you two act. You're way too soft on your vessel, Michael. You might as well glue him to your side and be done with it."

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it."

Lucifer hummed and continued messing with the computer.

"Here's an interesting summary: 'Michael has a boner but doesn't know what to do with it. Adam teaches him one of the pleasures of being human.'"

Adam cringes but isn't surprised. Yeah, that was to be expected. Adam supposed it also made sense that any fan-made material would focus on him in conjunction with Michael. He was the 'character' he'd interacted with the most. He'd literally been inside him (yes, he could grasp the erotic implications).

Adam snuck a look at Michael, relieved to see he looked more confused than angry. He thought about what he wanted to say.

"You realize you've probably been paired up with everybody at least once yourself, right? You're too important. You probably had plenty of 'screen time' or 'page-time,' or whatever the fuck we're going with here."

"And why should it bother me what humans write about me?"

"Well, as you've probably gathered, most of it is porn. Here, let me see the computer for a minute?"

Lucifer arched an eyebrow at him but pushed it over. Adam was clearly being humored; he hoped he could find what he had in mind.

It was easier than it should've been to navigate the website. And it took less time than it should've to find something inflammatory.

"Look at this," Adam said, passing the computer back. Adam took a perverse amount of pleasure in the blank expression that came over Lucifer's face as he realized what he was reading. Adam might not agree with most of Lucifer's anti-human dogma. But he could get behind his belief in their depravity. The human imagination could be downright vile.

"Did you want to read the summary of that one out loud? Or maybe you'd like to check out the story itself." Adam hoped Lucifer didn't call his bluff and actually attempt to read what he'd found. Adam had no desire to hear such things and was sure Michael would find it equally traumatizing. It might even have Michael agreeing with Lucifer about humans being disgusting and all deserving to die. Now that he was thinking about it… showing Lucifer such a thing and daring to taunt him might not have been such a good idea.

"We're moving on to something else. There's nothing of value to see here," Lucifer growled. His hands were clenched, and his eyes glowed a burning red. If Lucifer had had laser vision, the computer would be a smoking, charred pile of unworkable parts.

Adam relaxed.

Lucifer was clearly pissed, but it wasn't at him.

"How about some videos, or… Oh, here's a fan song."

The look on Lucifer's face now scared Adam. More than the one he'd given the computer after reading the summary of the story that ‘must not be named or explained.'

A tune started up, and Adam frowned at the almost immediate mention of Sam and Dean. Adam wasn't sure what he was supposed to be waiting for. Lucifer was watching him with what could only be anticipation. It was clearly an Apocalypse song, and he could only assume he'd be getting a mention. It was nearing the chorus when he heard the first hint of himself: a mention of the writers forgetting someone. He just knew that had to mean him.

And then he heard the actual chorus.

"We are never ever saving Adam ever!? Really?"

Someone had written an actual song about how forgettable he was. Sam and Dean's perspective added extra sting to already painful mockery. Was this all he was to anyone who knew his story? An unremarkable, unimportant joke.

It was one thing for Lucifer to tease him: Lucifer was just being Lucifer. And this was obviously his revenge for managing to make him uncomfortable. It was a separate issue to know his fellow humans could think so little of him when he'd only ever tried his best to be respectable. When he'd been willing to give his body over to do what he'd believed to be right. When he'd only wanted to see his mother and now might never be reunited with her again.

Lucifer smiled at his reaction. But Michael, who'd always been so unnaturally attuned to his emotional state, straightened up. He flared his wings in a way that made his presence seem towering and finally put in his two cents.

"While I'm not averse to studying the Gospel—as it may have answers to our current predicament and shine a light on what has been happening among the host since I have been gone—I have to protest this obvious targeting of Adam for your sick entertainment. I've told you time again that my vessel is off limits."

"And you haven't seen me lay a finger on him. Have you?" Lucifer sneered. Adam wondered if this would escalate into another 'bitch-fight-argument.' (Man, was he glad Michael wasn't currently paying attention to his thoughts.) Experiencing more of this Winchester-based crap didn't appeal to him in the slightest: Not with how he'd been depicted. He wasn't much in the mood for listening to them go back and forth, either, for however long they'd decide to have a go.

"Can't we just decide on something that won't make any of us angry? Maybe get started on that learning Michael mentioned. Because he had a point, you know? There's a good chance we could learn about what's been happening while we've been down here. It hardly benefits us to be uninformed."

Some of Michael's tenseness relaxed, and a slight breeze from his wings told Adam they'd also been put away. Adam turned to look at Lucifer again.

"We could get info on what's been happening in Hell too." Adam's careful not to say what he's actually thinking: that Lucifer could see Sam again and learn how he's doing. Lucifer's obsession was one best not spoken of; he'd deny it anyway.

Both Angels agreed with Adam with only a little grumbling and a couple murmured insults from Lucifer that Adam pretended not to hear. Lucifer was just upset they'd managed to ruin his fun.

Now that they had a plan, they just needed to put it into motion. Adam reached towards the computer again slowly, wondering if Lucifer would put up a fight about handing it over, but he shoved it at him instantly. Adam guessed Lucifer didn't want to have to put in the work if he couldn't fuck with them anymore. Adam wasn't about to complain.

Adam settled the computer into a position far enough from him so Lucifer could still see the screen. It'd been paused on the YouTube video for the song he'd been so hurt by. With a quick type of 'Supernatural mvs' in the search bar, it directed him to other options. Lots of options! Man, this show was popular. He hardly knew where to start.

Adam clicked on a couple random vids but got nothing out of them beyond further confirmation of Sam and Dean's life sucking, their codependent relationship, and the strange homoerotic tension between Castiel and Dean which the fans not only noticed but seemingly loved.

"Well, those weren't very helpful. Why don't we look up some videos focusing on the Angels."

Adam did so, and this time hit paydirt. These videos focused a lot more on the Angels and what they'd been up to. Some of it was hard for him to follow without the context, but he was focusing on trying to absorb everything until—

"You killed Gabriel?" Michael didn't yell, but his voice seemed to boom and almost shake the cage from being so powerful. The grip Michael still had around him was equally strong. Adam was grateful he couldn't actually die down here. And that he didn't need to breathe. Otherwise, the hold would have already suffocated him. Adam tried to pay attention to what Michael was actually saying.

Gabriel?

Right, Gabriel.

Apparently, Lucifer had killed him.

The video was still going, but nobody was paying it any mind. He reached a hand out to pause it, trying not to attract the attention of either of them. Michael was angrier than Adam had ever seen him. Adam trusted Michael to not want to hurt him, but that didn't mean he couldn't end up collateral damage. His ribs could attest to that.

Would this be the inciting incident? The thing to finally turn them to violence? Adam supposed Lucifer's response might be the determining factor.

Lucifer looked surprised. Adam wondered if he'd forgotten that he'd killed Gabriel or if he simply assumed nobody would ever find out.

"It wasn't Gabriel's place to interfere. He helped Sam and Dean get away, kept waving his Angel Blade around in my face, and seemed very protective of the humans, above all else. He'd clearly been down on Earth too long and became too accustomed to their ways. What else would you have had me do?"

"Maybe not kill your brother. You were always Gabriel's favorite: The only one to enjoy his pranks. The only one who could understand his jokes. You taught him to fly. Even during our fights, he never once took sides. He had to know you were in the wrong, but his love and worship for you prevented him from ever truly standing against you. Were you truly incapable of subduing him long enough for you to get away? You couldn't appeal to him… or talk him down—someone who once loved you that much?"

Lucifer, for once, appeared lost for words. (Talk about family drama. And he thought his issues with his own were bad.) Adam suddenly had a lot of questions he'd never thought to ask: What happened to an Angel when they died? Did they stop existing? Did they have their own afterlife? Was it better than here? He supposed it had to be.

There was still no answer from Lucifer. Adam knew better than to dare ask any of his questions now. His mouth would stay firmly shut while letting them sort this out. No way was he getting in the middle of this.

"Your silence might as well be an admission of guilt." Michael was trying his best to sound all-commanding and unemotional. The bond between him and Adam that let Michael perceive what he was feeling, however, worked both ways. Right now, he was feeling a grief Adam hadn't yet felt from him before. Not even their fall into the cage had elicited such an emotional response; he'd mostly just been angry then.

"Like you're squeaky clean being Dad's loyal soldier. You'd have killed him yourself if it'd been an order from God. Just like you threw me down here on his orders. You're the last person who'd have any right to lecture me on betrayal: on family loyalty." Lucifer sneered again as he practically spat the words.

Michael glowered and shot right back: "Your actions led to me striking you down—not just God. If you'd just listened—"

"—Here we go again: 'If you'd only just listened and followed orders like every other Angel, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. If you'd only just listened and been a good puppet soldier, none of this would've happened,'" Lucifer mocked with a roll of his eyes. "Don't take any accountability for your own mistakes. The 'Great and Powerful Archangel Michael' doesn't make mistakes. He's just Daddy's perfect boy. Well, it doesn't seem like he's coming down here to rescue you, does it? God has abandoned you too! Despite your enduring loyalty and stupidity."

"Faith is not stupid," Michael retorted. "And must you insist on talking poorly of our father?"

"He's the reason we're both down here, Mikey. The reason we're all down here. Apparently, he doesn't care about your vessel, either—despite insisting we prioritize these humans above all else. What excuse can you even give for that, huh? Are we meant to believe that he just… what? Didn't notice our Apocalypse: Didn't notice one of his Archangels dying and another falling into the cage? 'He who supposedly sees all'? What's more likely? That he hasn't realized or doesn't care? About any of us."

Adam didn't much appreciate being brought up in this conversation, especially when said conversation was a reminder that nobody seemed to care that he was here (aka: In Hell). Secretly, though, while he'd never tell Michael, he agreed somewhat with Lucifer; God didn't seem invested in any of them. One of the things that had brought him closer to Michael—that had made him sympathetic—had been his…well, 'toxic' relationship with his father. Even easier to empathize with was Lucifer's hatred towards that same father due to a disillusionment Michael had yet to overcome.

"We're down here to pay penance," Michael shot back in defense. "Father is hardly going to reward failure."

"Well, he certainly doesn't reward loyalty. What's your human paying penance for? What did he theoretically do wrong in this scenario? He was just doing what he thought was right, wasn't he? Doing what you and the other Angels told him to?"

Michael seemed to struggle with this, and Adam tried peaking up at him to see if he could catch his expression. Adam was curious what excuse he'd come up with for this one, if any; he wouldn't even be mad at the insinuation that Adam could've done something deserving of spending an eternity down here when he'd managed to make it into Heaven before.

Michael's arms clenched around him again, but softer this time and without the anger. Adam didn't manage to get anything from his expression (Adam admitted to stupidity in hindsight; Michael's face was hardly a display of emotion, and there was no reason for this time to be any different), but Michael let out an almost audible sigh. His Archangel's emotions, unlike the rest of him, were anything but tame. Adam could feel the conflict and confusion as strongly as if they were his own.

Lucifer seemed to grasp from Michael's sudden silence that he'd scored his first point in this back-and-forth because he smirked, suddenly confident from this small but important victory. At any other time, Adam might have been amused and grateful that Lucifer was getting through to Michael on the whole 'God issue.' Right now, though, Lucifer trying to use this to distract from him having killed their brother and then throwing Adam into the argument made Adam furious.

'Screw it,' Adam thought, 'I'm done shutting up.'

"Look, obviously, none of us are having the time of our lives down here, but it doesn't really do to dwell on the whys and hows. We have to make the best of our situation while still being ready to take any chances that turn up to get out of here. This, right here—" Adam shook the laptop to remind them both that it was there. "—this is the closest we've gotten; the only information we have available."

Lucifer stared at him. He could sense he had Michael's attention as well.

"Michael's got a right to be mad. His brother's dead, and he's only just found out. Lucifer, you have a right to be mad too. About being stuck here again, I mean. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on Michael since it wasn't even his fault this time. You told me, yourself, that fighting down here's pointless, so maybe stop trying to instigate one." Adam glared at Lucifer, trying to look braver than he actually felt. "And stop using me to antagonize Michael. It's hardly very creative of you."

"Your vessel's got bite, Michael. Real Winchester trait."

"Milligan," Adam corrected in further irritation. "Can we please just—" Adam shook the computer again in frustration. "We were really getting somewhere. Do you two wanna keep fighting about something neither of you can do anything about, or do you want to get educated? Cause I'm telling you, right now, if it turns out there was some way outta here we didn't know about that this did and we miss it, I'll find a way to make the both of you regret it…" Adam took another look at the both of them as they stared at him—Lucifer with an arched brow and Michael curiously—and felt his temporary bravery abandon him.

"…somehow," he muttered in a much weaker, lower voice.

For some reason, his outburst seemed to kick the two of them into gear. Michael suddenly arranged the laptop and the both of them so he had better access to the controls while still having a firm grip on him. Adam wondered if it was a good idea for Michael to be in charge—given his previous immersion (more like obsession) with said computer—but Adam figured he'd already said his piece. For now, he just wanted to feel like he was accomplishing something.

Neither Lucifer nor Michael apologized, but Adam assumed by their behavior that it was implied. Lucifer, at least, would never lower himself enough to do so—and Adam knew Michael would never do it in front of Lucifer, who'd no doubt use it as an excuse for further mockery.

Sometimes, seeing the devastation that was their relationship made him happy about never being able to build anything real with his own brothers. If having siblings caused one this much pain and drama, maybe he was better off without them.

Michael continued with the video route since they'd already proven useful. (And Adam's heart did ache for Michael about the Gabriel situation. Of all the stories Michael had told Adam of Heaven, the ones involving the trickster Angel had been his favorite.)

These videos involved more Angel drama: Drama that Adam still lacked some context to entirely understand. He could tell it was bad, though. And not just from the tenseness and feelings Michael was projecting from their bond.

"Raphael is dead too," was Michael's next despondent comment. The hurt practically emanated from him at this point—a dark rolling cloud of misery over his usual sunny brightness.

"Well, you can hardly blame me for that one. I think Castiel might have single-handedly done more damage in these videos than I managed during our entire apocalypse escapade. I'd be in awe if it weren't so insulting." Lucifer certainly didn't look amused.

"Much as I hate to agree with you, there is something seriously wrong with that Angel. He seems incapable of following orders or respecting authority. There's no need to make light of our prophesized battle by referring to it as an escapade, though, Lucifer."

"Sure. Disrespect of authority. That's the problem." Lucifer's eyes rolled back so far in his head that Adam feared they'd get stuck that way. His sarcasm was so thick Adam could drown in it.

The videos kept going and kept getting progressively worse.

"At this point, the question we should be asking is if there are any angels left. Also…what's so special about Castiel that his death never seems to stick."

Neither Michael nor Lucifer appeared to like the implications. They both had to know the most likely reason for Castiel's constant revivals was God's favor. How Castiel could have earned said favor without trying when even Lucifer and Michael's fanatical bids to garner attention had resulted in radio silence, Adam didn't know. It just left the increasing impression of God being that crappy, absentee father Lucifer had painted him as, whether Michael was able to admit to it yet or not.

Purgatory, Soulless Sam, The Trials, The Angels Falling, The Mark of Cain, The Darkness: The hits never stopped. And…wait, was that supposed to be God? The guy writing the Winchester gospel and pretending to be a Prophet? What? When Michael and Lucifer said nothing, Adam decided to do the same. They either hadn't reached the same conclusion (noticed) or didn't want to discuss it and were ignoring it. Adam could get behind that.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this—feel free to slap me if I'm being ridiculous, 'cause I'm probably way out of line here—but…do you think maybe…we might actually be safer down here? Everyone up there seems to be cursed or something."

Apropos of nothing, without the slightest warning, Lucifer disappeared.

Adam stared at the now empty space. Gone. Just like that. Adam tensed and grasped onto Michael's arm around him, worried he or Michael might be next. Michael held on just as tight, also wary. Only after a few minutes of neither of them going anywhere did he lower his guard.

"Was it something I said?" Adam asked, suddenly feeling the need to whisper. "Did I jinx it?"

"Of course not. Lucifer must have been summoned."

"Who would or could summon Lucifer out of the cage?" He asked, then almost knocked himself out from the force of his own palm meeting face at his stupidity.

"Winchesters," both Adam and Michael ended up saying simultaneously.

"But why?" Adam asked.

"They must need an Archangel for something." And, boy, was Michael mad; the increased thunder and lightning noises from outside the cage evidence (representation) of his vast displeasure.

"They needed an Archangel, and they chose Lucifer?" That was dubious. Lucifer might help—especially if Sam was doing the asking—but he'd hardly do it for free. God knows what other mischief he'd get into while up there.

Given how they'd just been talking about a curse, there was also a good chance Lucifer would be killed. Adam felt weird thinking about it. Lucifer drove him crazy, and he was hardly a pinnacle of moral righteousness. But Adam would miss him. Adam had gotten used to thinking of Michael and Lucifer as his eternal companions. Now, one of them was gone. He couldn't help but grip Michael harder again, still slightly scared that he'd vanish, too, and Adam would be alone. That would be the end of his sanity right then.

"If the darkness destroyed the world…or whatever it is she does, would it affect us, too? Could Lucifer even defeat it?"

"Everything would be affected. The last time the darkness had to be shut away, it took the combined power of God and all four of his Archangels. Even then, it was still difficult and resulted in grievous injuries. I don't see how it could be accomplished unless God has returned to fight and decides to bring us all back."

Michael didn't even look hopeful while saying it, proof this new information and situation had him out of sorts. Adam just had to hope that if Michael was summoned, Adam would be taken as well. The Angel would still need a vessel, after all. Adam doubted Dean had suddenly changed his views on possession. Adam could also admit to jealousy at the idea of Dean taking his place in this instance. Dean hadn't wanted to be Michael's vessel, but Adam had been filling that role for so long now he no longer knew any other way to be.

"So what are we supposed to do now?"

"There's nothing we can do," Michael admitted reluctantly. Adam knew Michael hated feeling helpless and not being able to do anything. Michael hadn't known a day of idleness until he found himself here. Adam had promised himself if they ever escaped, he'd insist on a vacation. They both deserved one, and there were so many places Adam had never gotten to see while alive that he thought Michael might get some pleasure from now.

"We should be on our guard, though, I'm guessing?"

Michael nodded against his back.

For a moment, Adam wanted to say, 'screw this,' and hide again in his angel companion's wings as he had so long ago. To forget everything and make that feathery embrace his entire world. It was strange, almost, how that seemed like a simpler time. It certainly hadn't seemed simple at the time.

"You just wanna watch some more of this Supernatural crap? It won't take our mind off anything, but I'm sure there's still much to learn. Why don't we look up some videos about ourselves? I'm sure we must have at least a few. Oh, and your brothers! We could find some about them too. See what they'd been up to before…well, just before. I hope this computer doesn't run out of power. Now that I'm thinking about it, it already should've run out if it was going to. You'd been messing with it for days before we'd even commented. I'm not even going to ask what had you so engrossed." Adam knew he was babbling but also knew Michael wouldn't mind. He'd told Adam before that he liked knowing what Adam was thinking but had difficulty figuring it out.

Adam rearranged himself again until he was comfy and brought YouTube back up. He was determined not to think about their imminent demise, the possibility of Michael disappearing, Lucifer being dead, or the Winchesters (despite them being prominent in everything and, therefore, impossible to ignore).

No.

None of those things existed right now. Adam and Michael were watching fiction. Pieces of a TV show. It had nothing to do with their lives at all. If he thought of it that way…maybe it would make these viewings easier to bear? Put less of a strain on his heart and his mind.

Adam took a deep breath, ready to start the next set of videos.

"You ready?" He asked Michael.

"It's only pragmatic to learn all we can. You said something similar yourself."

"Okay, what have I said about using my own words against me?"

"To not do so. Though I'm slightly confused about whose I should be using if not yours."

Adam sighed and shook his head.

Angels.

Hopeless.

All of them.

"Let's just get watching."

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Pulling strings and aura reading. 3124 words.

1986

Hedy Lamarr: Golden Age movie star and inventor. George Antheil: avant-garde composer and inventor. Together, at the beginning of World War II, they developed a radio guidance system for the Allied Forces that could employ frequency hopping technology in order to overcome the issue of the Axis Powers’ signal jamming. Decades later, their innovation would become the basis for Wi-Fi and Bluetooth tech.

The Hollywood dinner party Hedy and George were both invited to would mark their meeting in 1940. Hedy hadn’t planned on attending.

“I hear you won’t be the only free thinker there, Hed,” Abby sing-songed from the passenger seat of Hedy’s car. “Maybe you should go. And besides, Janet’s parties are always so fashionable. I’m sure even more so now she’s married that little costumer designer of hers.”

And with that, Abby had pulled yet another set of strings. It was what she excelled at. Mostly, that was a good thing. She was a good witch. However, you hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, especially since she was prone to stealing your clothes. When she cleared her throat, you noticed she was wearing the purple lace top you loved. Not lost on the road trip to Hawkins then.

“While it is in a witch’s nature to romanticise… well, everything... I must redirect your attention to what is clearly the most critical issue…” Abby started. She shot you a look. “Where is your angelic vampire now?”

Gillian looked at Sally. She had assumed you’d left Eddie in Hawkins. Certainly, he couldn’t be within the walls of the coven. A vampire couldn’t cross the hidden forest threshold.

You felt Kelsey move closer to you, standing behind you, closing ranks.

“Somewhere safe,” you told Abby.

“Can’t be more specific than that?”

“Fuck, Abby, does that matter?”

“I just want to know if you’ve made the same mistake twice. Did you bring a fox into the henhouse again?”

“I resent the implication of being a defenseless hen,” Kels complained.

The witches were talking among themselves once more, Abby planting a seed of fear in the coven. Eyes darted around, often flicking to you with accusatory stares. Your stomach was churning and Eddie was pushed as deeply into the corner of your pocket as he could go.

“Doesn’t this boil down to – do the means justify the ends? Because we have never abided by that before,”

“If the ends are the survival of the coven and the safety of the humans, then yes!”

Arguments were breaking out across the hall.

“Why didn’t she tell us about the vampire as soon as she happened across it?”

“Because we are a coven, not a hive mind. We are allowed to explore and learn for ourselves.”

You couldn’t gauge if a consensus was forming. Questions were coming hard and fast.

“Can we trust any of them again?”

“Where is the justice?”

“If it really is good, if… he has a soul… were there others?”

“What else have we been wrong about?”

“Even if it is good, what if it makes more, and they are the monsters we used to know?”

The tension was continuing to build. Those in the coven who were conflict-avoidant began to filter out of the hall. Whatever happened, what conclusion came, they would accept unconditionally. Other witches who had hitherto said nothing, began to share their opinions with those near them.

A voice called from within the crowd. A demand to be brought closer. Guðrún sat in her enchanted rocking chair, letting it glide just above the ground until she came to a stop before you. She was the oldest in the coven, having lived lives upon lives upon lives.

You knew Guðrún would scold Gillian and Sally later. To keep her in the dark about such important matters showed her a deep disrespect. That matter would be settled in private, among friends. You, though, the way she looked at you was as cold as ice.

“You are a healer. A rare and special gift for a witch. It comes as no surprise that you believed you saw life in something undead. When you tell your story, conviction yellow. Beloving pink.”

Guðrún was the only aura reader of the coven. Ancient wisdom gave her additional senses.

“But now. As you stand. Green turning bad. Not yet deception. Something concealed.”

Don’t break eye contact.

Don’t hold your breath.

Don’t roll over and show your soft belly.

“Too many. Too many hues. What is concealed… It is a… void. Not black, but a vacuum.”

Guðrún’s gaze trailed down to where Eddie was in your pocket. She couldn’t see him, but she could see the empty space around him where an aura should be.

Sally had figured it out the night before. The way you sat, careful of the way your jacket draped over body. Other physical cues. It was that, and that she just knew you. You’d never be parted from Eddie again. She kept the secret from her sister.

Gillian worked it out only then, following Guðrún’s line of sight. “You couldn’t unhex him completely? He returned to the bat form?” she asked you, stepping closer, ignoring the coven’s growing sense of anger and terror.

You said nothing.

She narrowed her eyes. “No. You did. But… This is how you got him through the gate… A trick of form?”

Realisation rippled outwards. For a moment, curiosity and anxiety were radiating from the coven in equal measures.

“If it is good, such a well behaved creature, then show us,” Abby called.

“He is not a show dog, Abigail,” you spat at her.

“Obviously not a dog. A bat. You’ve always had a penchant for the poetic. It’s a bit on the nose though,”

“Shut the fuck up, Abby,” Kelsey growled.

A strange sort of anticipatory silence fell across the hall. You knew what they were all waiting for.

…

1986, a few days earlier

“It smells nice,” Eddie commented.

He was sitting on the couch behind you. You’d dragged your coffee table altar closer to it, so you could sit between his legs on the floor and do your work.

“It’s the sage. You always say something when there’s sage.”

Your protection spell for Eddie had been finished, but in the eleventh hour, you had a stroke of inspiration.

The potion was a total risk. It was more guesswork than witchcraft. Almost a Hail Mary. You’d probably be throwing up into the mix out of stress if Eddie wasn’t gently playing with your hair.

It was symbiosis. He liked to have his hands on you. You liked his nails on your scalp. Everyone was kept sedated.

“It’s a good idea, my love,” Eddie told you, again.

“In theory,”

“And in practice. It will work.”

…

1986, a few days later

You knew what they were all waiting for.

“Remember that what you put into the world comes back tenfold,” you warned.

After one last look to Kelsey for support, you reached into your jacket and scooped Eddie up. While keeping your hand touching your chest, you uncurled your fingers to reveal the small bat.

Mostly, the witches were underwhelmed. Some, confused.

“Turn it back,” a voice from somewhere in the crowd said.

“Again. He is not a fucking show dog,” you sneered.

“Then how do we know it’s not dangerous?” Abby asked. “Who says as soon as it’s back in its vampire form, it won’t try to kill us all?”

She’s a good witch, you reminded yourself. A good witch. Part of your coven. But every family has the shit-stirring little sister that could stand to be brought down a peg or two. Alas, it was not the time nor place.

“Me,” you answered.

“And me,” Kelsey added.

“If you come pleading for absolution, the condition of an introduction is not too great an ask,” Guðrún declared. “If it is not a monster, then a meeting should pose no challenge,”

“The challenge doesn’t lie with me. It is with the coven,” you told her.

“You fear violence,”

“Yes. Should I not? Can you tell me all the colours emanating around us are peaceful blues? I know you see red and black and midnight tones. Why shouldn’t I fear this?”

Guðrún studied your face, briefly read the room. Before she could say anything else, and before Abby could move things along with a tug of a string, you let yourself really feel the fear. You wanted to puke.

“I have everything to lose,” you said, voice cracking. Eddie’s tiny little bat hands clung to your shirt, your hands shielding him still. “I am entirely prepared to lose my place here. And, you know what happens to a covenless witch. I have spent weeks agonising over this. All the possible outcomes. Yet here I fucking am. Telling you, all of you, what I did. What I did wrong. Why I did it. Telling you that I was stupid and I feel embarrassed. But that I was in love. That I am in love. That I was hurt in an immeasurable way. But I have found a way from there to here, and that means something. It is worth something.”

Everybody was silent.

It was always going to come to this.

Turning to Kelsey, she pre-empted your request, casting darkness over the windows, then heading out the hall.

“His name is Eddie. Edward. He was twenty when he was turned. It was 1586. He had no choice. He’s almost finished The Lord of the Rings. He helps me forage. He does housework… Eddie has a list of cats throughout history he thinks are cool. His favourite is Unsinkable Sam… He’s… He’s not what you think he is.”

Still, nobody said anything.

Kelsey reappeared at your side, holding out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  Taking them, you turned your back on the coven, standing close enough to Kels that you formed a small partition. Your teeth were trying to chatter, nervous energy screaming to get out of you.

Please. Please. Please.

You didn’t know who you were praying to.

You said the words, Eddie appeared.

The silence became a living thing. It ate up gasps and giggles. Words and wind.

Eddie dressed quickly, but not too quickly. No vampire speed. No sudden movements. He looked you dead in the eye, your reflection in that deep darkness. Hand in hand, you stepped to reveal him to your coven.

There was not a single face of indifference.

Becoming hyper-aware of everything in your surroundings, you first focussed on Sally and Gillian. Their slumped postures. Deep set frowns. Resignation. No threat.

Abby’s fast and shallow breathing. Blown pupils.

Guðrún was squinting so hard you could barely see her eyes. She could will it all she wanted, there was no aura to read. She had no better insight than you. Than any of the others. It made her feel powerless, but in that was grace. If she had no better vantage point, her vote meant nothing more. She ceded. 

The grief was written all over Sara’s face as she moved silently through the coven. You stepped in front of Eddie, held a hand out to her.

“Bug, wait,” you asked. Sara – Bug – who you used to spend hours drying and pressing flowers with. Preserving colour and beauty. Happy in each other’s company.   

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Sara snapped. “You walked by our side for centuries, but by a single moonlit night you betrayed us?”

“Sara-”

“No. She died in my arms… You were there. You tried to stitch her together. But her skin was too shredded. Too much blood loss. They ripped her apart and now… Now this?”

Sara’s grandmother was older than Guðrún but perished at the hands of Eddie’s colony. You had tried to heal her. Save her. There hadn’t been any hope though.

Sara’s hand moved in her pocket and you became acutely aware of why she had not said anything earlier. She hadn’t been in the room. Sara had disappeared and filled her pockets with the death dust. Most witches had stored theirs away, the need gone. Not Sara. Not ever.

She moved fast, her palms flung open and a deep breath out pushing dust up and at Eddie with supernatural speed and force. It would only take a single flake of it to kill him.

It all happened in an instant. The magic hit the border of the protection spell and Sara was showered in the dust, as if she had been the intended target. Simultaneously, Eddie hissed, an innate and unconscious reaction to an attack. And you grabbed him by the arm and yanked him backward, putting space between him and the coven.

Everyone froze, processing your warning of tenfold and the events that had transpired.

Tears streamed down Sara’s face. “You’re choosing him over us?”

Abby walked to her, wrapped an arm around her waist. “Bug,” she said softly.

“I’m asking to not have to choose,” you tried to explain.

Sara wasn’t listening, not to you, not to Abby, who was whispering something to her. Distracted by this, you did not see Alexis.

Alexis did not come for death. She came for pain. She held a dagger made from carnelian, steel, and crocodile scales. She drove the dagger through the air, but hit the spell border just as the death dust had. The spell was a mirror, it would reverse the magic back to sender.

Alexis’ blade spun from her hands and glided too quickly at her. It aimed for her heart, as she had aimed for Eddie’s. Its trajectory would have seen it plunge through her ribcage’s gaps and into her still-beating heart. If Alexis died, it would all be over.

But Eddie was there.

He moved in a blink and caught Alexis with one arm, holding her safely. His other grabbed the dagger, letting it slice through the side of the hand so he could catch it mid-air. The room held its breath. Alexis’ green eyes were wide and set on Eddie. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull herself from Eddie’s embrace.

“I mean you no harm,” he murmured quietly, just to her. “And I like your freckles.”

Eddie let Alexis go; she stumbled a few steps before steadying herself. He moved slowly again, turning to the coven and dropping the dagger, letting it clang against the floorboards.

You rushed to him, throwing your arms around him. “Are you okay?” Looking down, Eddie had already healed from the blade. You held him tightly. He closed his eyes and melted into you.

The witches watched. Some submerged in waves of grief, some choking on anger. Some could smell honeysuckle, a sure sign of true love. Others felt a ripple of change, their skin prickling with goosebumps.

You looked to the coven.

“This is… too much. It’s too much for me. And for each of you… But it’s done…” You shook your head, then shrugged. “I just… I don’t know… We have been guided by so many forces. By what we learn. By fate, and life, and death. By the systems of morality we take from the humans. By each other. And I don’t know what’s really right. So, I’ll make my own meaning now. It’s… yeah, it’s been working. What I’ve done in Hawkins. It is good. There’s good to be done there…”

It was resonating. Ev, Meg, and Hailey. Ash, Mel, and Kelsey. More and more witches, lost in a liminal space of post-purpose. What did it mean to be a witch without a goal? What did it mean to be a woman in 1986?

Eddie watched you. I will diminish, and go into the West and remain Galadriel, the book echoed in his head. You held yourself with the same loveliness as Galadriel. Not always, but now.

“I’m going back. Maybe I’ll stay there. Maybe I’ll find somewhere else that needs help. But I don’t belong here anymore. And, maybe that’s okay. Maybe it will… it will be okay…”

As your thoughts trailed off, you met Abby’s gaze. She nodded once, a promise that you would be left alone. You nodded back, then looked for Guðrún. She had already left, putting faith in the youth of the coven.

Some of the witches began to leave the hall. You had no way of knowing who you had hurt and if you would ever be forgiven, but you were willing to pay the price of that shame to keep Eddie.

Kelsey was the first to come to you. “I’m coming with you,” she announced fearlessly.

“Me too,” echoed Mel.

The others stepped up, nodding.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told them.

“And you don’t get to tell us what to do,” Meg replied.

“You’re right. Maybe you don’t belong here. But maybe you’re not the only one,” Ev said.

A deep exhaustion was taking over. Your energy was draining into the protection spell, the mirrored bubble around Eddie took so much of your magic to keep intact. All you had in you to do was nod. You’d argue with them another day.

“Hi,” from Ash then. She grinned at Eddie.

“Hi,” he replied, flashing her a trademark smile. He took your hand. “I, ah, look forward to meeting you all. But I believe it might be best if I depart. For now,”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Do you wanna go ahead? I know this looks like a truce but it feels more like a stalemate. I’ll be on the road in a few hours... Sic fiat,” and the bat swirled through the air and out the open door. He flew up, up, up, until the wards of the coven were far below him.

Eddie covered miles of Catskills quickly, before finding a nice tree to huddle in, awaiting your arrival.

“You’re leaving already?” Kelsey asked.

“You don’t have to go right away,” Hailey told you.

“I’m causing more sorrow than joy being here. It’s not fair on the others,”

“What happened wasn’t fair to you,” Mel pointed out.

“I know. But… This isn’t black and white… But I’m kind of tired… Meg… Any cinnamon rolls ready? You know, for the road?”

You sat with your sisters, drinking tea and eating baked goods. They told you about their lives, about what the past few months had looked like for them. And while none of it was on the same scale as Henry Creel and revived vampires, you realised you were not alone.

When you imagined the path forward, you were always holding Eddie’s hand. You were the only witch walking though. However, all it took to build a coven was a couple of witches with overlapping notions of love, magic, and morality. Maybe there was room for more.

End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington for teaching me about the very real Hedy Lamarr. If you don't know about her, she is absolutely worth a Google.

To the newest additions to the coven - @munson-blurbs and @littlesubbyflower. Thank you for being the face of objection.

And, to anyone that loves Catfish and the Bottlemen as much as I do... I had to do it. Hopefully, it wasn't too cringe lmaoooooo.

Grimoire is updated.

REBLOG AND TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELS!!!

Love yas.

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16

[auspicioustidings]

The Eyes of God

Summary: You are a researcher separated from your group and hypothermic in the mountains. It would be better you had died than be taken into the remote Monastery nearby.

Words: 1.7k

CW: Catholic horror, non-con (for context there is oral sex that is very much unwanted, starts with reader unconscious so somnophilia), exploitation, non-con medical procedure, mentions of cannibalism.

He sends out his command to the earth; his word runs swiftly. He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes. He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs; who can stand before his cold? Psalm 147:15-17

--

The blizzard had come without warning to steal away all of your senses. There was no sight but for the white in front of you, no sound but for the howling cold, no smell but that of ice, no taste but your own dry fear on your tongue and no feeling at all. How long had it been since you had been separated from your group? Seconds, days?

You knew the signs of hypothermia, had trained for the harsh conditions of this unexplored mountain, but your memories of it all scattered to the corners of your feebled mind as you shuffled slowly and aimlessly forward. Every step was a fight against an impossible foe, God like it it's strength. There was something in the white, a glow. You needed to reach it, you needed to reach it more than you needed oxygen.

Everything is too hot, you are burning.

--

Your nakedness shall be uncovered, and your disgrace shall be seen. I will take vengeance, and I will spare no one. Isaiah 47:3

--

"What have you brought before the eyes of God?" Alejandro asked of the man holding a naked figure tight to his chest.

"Wis hunting Father, as ye had asked" Soap replied, "found this woman naked in the snow."

Soap had found you as you started to tear at your clothes. He had watched. The temptations of the flesh had come unbidden to him, blood thickening his cock as your pale flesh met the deathly cold skin to air. It was kindness in the Lord's name to save you; at the Monastery they could cleanse you of this sin, of your whoredom. Make you clean so you could meet your end in a state of Grace. That was what he had told himself as he held you tight to his body, thinking if he could make you one flesh to save you from this cold he would.

"You've brought us something sinful Brother" Rudy said, emerging from the shadows and gazing hatefully at your nakedness.

"He has been righteous no Rudolfo? Something sinful is ripe for purification of the flesh and soul" Alejandro said, coming closer to run a hand up your arm and delighting in the coldness of your skin. A challenge from above he thought, sent to them on the brink of death to bring back and make whole.

"Of course Alejandro. Leave her here then, that we may make her well first."

Soap did not want to leave you with them. He knew that the Fathers could be cruel to sinners, they were so very cruel to him. He knew it was to serve a greater purpose. The unworthy and sinful must endure mortification of the flesh. But you were so soft and delicate in his arms, so decidedly feminine in comparison to everyone here. Did Adam feel like this when he willingly ate the sin offered by Eve?

"By one man's disobedience the many were made sinners. Is this pride Brother? Alejandro, perhaps we should call upon Ghost, ensure this is not able to spread as a sickness."

Soap felt the holy fear of God then. He loved Ghost as David had loved Jonathan, the covenant between them unselfish and everlasting. He felt at his most tested when he was called to watch him be purified. The last time Soap had disobeyed, the Fathers had hung Ghost on a hook and in the end taken a rib as God had taken Adam's rib. Only Ghost had not been deeply asleep as Adam had. His anguish had been loud and still tormented Soap even now after the place had been closed up with flesh.

He looked down at you, your eyes slowly blinking now that there was heat infusing into your skin. Perhaps this is what the Fathers had done with that rib, created another test for him. He laid you gently, reverently, on the alter.

"There now, it is not pride Rudolfo, merely care. By one man's obedience the many will be made righteous. You may go Soap, go to Ghost and pray."

Soap bowed his head in thanks before leaving. Ghost would be preparing his catch by now, no doubt he would have followed orders exactly and hunted down your group properly unlike him in his weakness for you. The Fathers had been diligent in teaching Ghost Genesis 9:2-3 after all.

--

So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire. James 3:5

--

The first thing you felt was pain, followed swiftly by panic. You blinked rapidly then slowly, willing your brain to connect properly to your optic nerve and process where you were.

Staring at the ceiling. You felt your body on a hard surface, you were laying down. There was an unbearable pain in your chest and as you tipped your head forward to look you started to whine on each of your quick exhales, terrified. There was a tube piercing into your flesh, liquid flowing through it. The pain was dull and throbbing. You were completely naked, your skin illuminated and glowing from the hundreds of candles surrounding the alter you were laid on.

And then the true horror of it, two men dressed in the garb of priests, lapping languidly between your legs.

The third feeling was the perverse pleasure that came from their tongues on you. The animalistic sounds of wet lapping against slick folds. Your body did not feel like your own, your movements sluggish and heavy against your commands. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope and trying to see the original image, a sickly feeling of futility. Still, you stubbornly willed your panic to aid you and focused on lifting a hand to push away the men.

One of them lifted his head, chin dripping with you. In your delirium you swore his eyes were fully black, his teeth sharp and oozing ichor. Perhaps in any other scenario he would be handsome, a young man looking at you from between your legs. But not this one, not in the scenario where your hand finally reached his head to give a weak and pathetic push. Not in the scenario where he grabbed your wrist and twisted so hard it made you forget the pain in your chest.

"And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off" he said, his voice ricocheting off of your skull and echoing there. It was too loud, too quiet, too soft, too rough. "Is that you yearn for? For me to relief you of your sin?"

You cried then, knowing deep inside you from his smooth grin that he would cut pieces off of you and consider it holy.

You are in a nightmare and you cannot wake up.

The hand dropped away to your side, terrified into submission. He went back to his task and now that you were conscious the rough texture against your clit made you want to throw up. You hated that it distracted from everything, that it felt good. Perhaps it was because the two of them were so close to one another in their efforts, but it felt like something wet and forked against you.

Maybe you could see salvation if you looked around, something to focus on other than the twisted flesh of your body and the twisted pleasure given by those pressed against it. Instead your eyes only landed on figures in the shadows.

Two men. One older and one younger. Looking on with something between horror and eroticism. The younger of them set his eyes to the ground when you caught them and sobbed out for some sort of help. The other took him by the scruff of the neck, pressing a forehead to his and mumbling something about Peter 5:8. After a moment they both returned to watching in silence. You could see it in them, the same fear you felt. The fear of something judging and all powerful bearing down.

It was as if the men lapping at you knew of your fear, as if they took pleasure in those who feared them. Their clever tongues were all at once precise and messy, forcing your body to ascend to a peak your mind found repulsive.

You came like it was written in scripture that you must; inevitable, horrific and erotic all the same.

"There now, warmed by the light of the Lord" came a voice. You felt your eyes move to the source against your will, seeing the second man now and feeling a primal fear at his face, blacked out with a golden painted skull catching the light. Below his chin was smudged obscenely.

He reached up and for a moment you thought he might caress you gently. In your state, you felt greed for such a gesture. The noise that left you was inhuman as he pulled the tube from your chest.

"Brother Price, fix up our guest and take her to her cell won't you?"

Price did as he was told, Gaz in tow. He wondered what name they would give a thing like you. You would be quick to learn the ways of this place he thought, not like him or the others. It had taken so much to redeem them into something that might see the Grace of the Almighty one day. He did not want that for you. He knew with certainty that Gaz did not either, the man had nearly went into a state of sin watching you. Price knew better than to feel anything like Pride, but at the very least he was pleased that he had been able to stop him from going to you for comfort.

It was such a wicked thought, but in his heart he felt it would have been better for you had Soap taken you for meat rather than for saving. It was a difficult and painful thing, being saved by the Fathers here.

--

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Peter 5:8

But the one who endures to the end will be saved. Matthew 24:13

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreebliss

Hey hey folks! yes yes i know what you're thinking.

'But Gliphy! it's only been a few days since your last post! Is the world ending?'

And I agree! Buuuut I decided to throw something out there, a change of pace so to speak!

I present: TTAU Side stories! Or Side Stories in general.

The chain are still my main cast for stories. Most things will be written around them.

But, due to certain inquiries, a few characters were requested to be written~ Will that automatically mean I'll start posting a barrage of stuff for the side stories? Eh, probably only when inspiration hits me.

But I decided to have fun with dropping in characters from time to time.

For now, it's gonna be one character that a few people has asked for.

Will I do them justice? Dunno! I'll leave that to you lovely folk~

Anywho~

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The stench of blood was very potent here, enough to make his nose crinkle the moment he stepped into the area. 

The soldier guiding Link gave his report as he led him through the mountain pass. 

"This is the place." He said, gesturing to the entrance of an easily overlooked cave, his helmet tilted back to show his face. "We managed to lead him through here. Once he went through, the others distracted him while I sealed off the opening as best as I could." 

The soldier stopped before the cave opening leading inside. There were crates and broken carriages turned on their side blocking the entrance. 

Link eyed everything. "Impressive for one man. Though if what you said was true, blocking the path like this wouldn't have slowed him down." 

The soldier sighed. "He seemed too focused attacking the nearest soldiers, I did what I could to escape and seal it off."

Warriors' eyes narrowed but said nothing of the soldier's careless admission.

"Very well, you and I will enter to confront him." Link folded his arms over his chest and gave the soldier a look when he opened his mouth. 

"In the event that a battle occurs, I'll need you to be near so you can bring a detailed report back to base." The soldier thought it over and nodded. 

  "...Right then."

Without further ado, Link and the Soldier pushed as much of the crates out of the way and made their way in. 

The cave was dark, darkening further since dusk approached. Even after stepping several feet inside there wasn't much light, it took a several minutes for his eyes to adjust. 

They made their way carefully down the narrow tunnel. 

...Warriors was uncertain about this situation. 

While his memories of his past battles were convenient, he would be a fool to believe them to be absolute. 

War was ever changing, no battle was fought with the exact method or gained the same result twice. 

But this...he definitely would have recalled a situation like this. This was a new turn of events and he had to keep his wits about him.

After making it about twenty minutes in, a sudden loud bang echoed down the corridor. "I know you're there!" A male voice bellowed. The voice sounded angered. deranged.

"That's him sir!" The soldier whispered to him. 

The Soldier and Link both stood still, not wanting to give away their position.

"Come out! Come out and tell me where she is!" The male's voice cracked, as if he had been screaming for some time. His breathing was loud, sped up.

His voice...frantic...angered. 

With his weapon drawn, both soldiers cautiously crept to the end of the cave passage where faint light poured from a hidden opening off to the side. 

An open space, the light coming from burning crates off to the side, otherwise empty, save for the scattered corpses of soldiers throughout the space.

From the state they appeared in, they had been hit a large blunt object. 

There was blood everywhere.

It was splattered from the ceiling and walls onto the floor, pooled beneath the bodies of soldiers whose faces were crushed flat within their helmets.

"Goddess above." the soldier breathed, his hand clutching at his weapon tightly in terror. 

Link looked on dispassionately. "I have never seen such madness." he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion.

A flash of purple caught the corner of his eye as he scanned the room. 

 He made his way towards it, ignoring the soldier's hushed protests.

When he got closer, his eyes widened and he froze. Blue eyes lined with gold stared back at him. Reaching down, he grabbed it brought it close. 

He recognized it despite it's ragged appearance. Only one person dressed in such a fashion. 

Suddenly the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor caught his ear.  Then there was a low groan of pain before it grew into a scream of anger. 

The soldier looked at Link, anxiety written clear on his face as he raised his sword but Warriors, dropped the item and shook his head. 

They slowly moved into the open area, eyes and ears peeled for any signs of movement. 

As they advanced, the noises grew. Heavy footfall and heavy breathing.

 An occasional whimper or whine as things were dragged around.  The sounds came more and more frequently until, finally, a single figure came into view, slowly stumbling forward. 

His hair was disheveled. Green eyes wild. Blood seeping from wounds hidden behind purple robes, dripping onto the ground.

Robes soaked in blood that was both his and not his. A large bloodied hammer being dragged behind him. His missing hood left his face uncovered.

The Hero of Warriors felt his heart jumped. 

The face that stared back at him was one he knew. 

But how?

It didn't make sense. What could possibly bring about this scenario? Why the hell was Ravio here of all places, alone? 

He shouldn't be here, he was supposed to have joined up with them several missions prior. 

(But Time had taken a different path as well...)

"Where..." came the raspy whisper. 

"Where...Where is she?" His eyes were frantic and desperate, darting around.

Not once had he looked at Warriors, as if he hadn't been there at all. He looked right at the soldier, his eyes piercing into the soldier's. 

"Tell me where...is she..." He growled louder, stepping closer even as the soldier took several steps back. 

He looked around frantically, trying to find something in the darkness, find someone. 

But why? Who was he looking for... 

 (...Could he...) 

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about!" The soldier shouted, his voice shaking as he pointed his sword at the unhinged man. 

"LIAR!" He roared, storming closer, hammer being raised with one arm. 

"You killed my comrades!" 

"You all took her from me! Took me from her!" His voice raged, his path to the soldier blocked as Warriors stepped in front of him. 

His eyes settled on Warriors, and his gaze became fixated upon him.

Suddenly Ravio let out a loud scream, and without a moment's notice, he swung the hammer at him.

Instinctively, Warrior raised his blade and blocked it as best as he could, even as his arms shook from the force of the attack. 

"Tell me what's wrong!" Warriors cried, desperately trying to hold the sword steady as the merchant pressed his hammer against his sword. 

Ravio was screaming.

"It's all wrong! IT'S ALL WRONG!!" He was screaming and fighting against Warriors, but it was useless. "I'm not supposed to be HERE! You took her!! She was supposed to be SAFE!"

Warriors' ears picked up movement behind him and he shoved Ravio away just as the soldier swung his sword at the unstable man. 

"Who are you talking about?" The soldier snapped as he was pulled back by Warriors while he put distance between them and Ravio.

"She was supposed to be with safe! I'm not suppose to be here!" Ravio cried out, as if he hadn't heard what was being asked at him. 

"I was there! I was waiting for her at the house! I SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" Dropping the hammer, Ravio grabbed the side of his head with both hands, shaking his head violently.

"(y/n)..." He groaned in pain, eyes squeezing shut. 

Warriors felt like he had been dumped in cold water.  

"What did you say..?" He whispered.

Ravio's head shot up, a wild look on his face that Warriors couldn't quite recognize. 

He...remembered?

---

---

She was brave... 

That's what Ravio's first thought of her was, when Mr. Hero explained her situation to him. 

A world without magic. A world nothing like theirs. 

At least there was a way for him to return to Lorule. But for her...? 

But she didn't let that get her down. In her eyes, if there was a way to land in Hyrule, there must be a chance to return home. 

 He liked that about her, liked her more when he got to properly know her. 

 Her bravery, her determination.

  The determination to keep going even when she had no clue how to go about things. 

But that determination to return home didn't stop her curiosity. 

Ravio wouldn't deny how pleased he felt when she asked detailed questions about his items. Even more so when it turned into a conversation about Lorule. 

Which became a routine whenever the group came by.

The culture, the history, the economy, there was always something new she wanted to ask him about his homeland. 

He was a bit embarrassed to say he didn't know too much about most things she asked at first. But she never made him feel dumb about it. 

  Instead, she listened attentively as he tried to explain the differences between Hyrule and Lorule. Happily speaking of her world, describing the vast differences between here and there. 

They would chat about those differences for hours on end. Which turned to a talk about the people back home, which would lead to a talk about each other's hobbies and opinions on things. 

Anything they both wanted to talk about really. 

It was only when Link interrupted them to announce dinner or something else that Ravio would realize how much time had passed. 

All those questions that made him smile brightly, and it always made her laugh. Her laugh was wonderful and her smile was bright and contagious.

It made him crave to have the answers to the questions he couldn't give her. He'd return to Lorule just to gather books on those topics and study them. 

He dared to say he knew more about his own home's history and of Hyrule's thanks to her curiosity. 

When she returned, he was eager to show her what he managed to find. 

 Though he knew she wouldn't understand everything he said, it was simply a matter of her asking enough questions to make sense of it

Her enthusiasm was contagious when she spoke, especially since she never seemed disappointed or confused.

Sometimes he wondered whether that trait wasn't what attracted him to her at first.

He hadn't realized it at the time, but (Y/n)'s arrival had changed things. Everything about Ravio had changed. Every aspect of his life seemed to shift the longer he got to know her. 

And it seemed he wasn't the only one who felt the same. 

Watching the way Link and his companions began to behave around her. 

 Their gazes turning softer, smiles forming on their lips when she approached. They would sit closer to her whenever they had a chance and listen attentively to every story and ramble she shared.

How they each wanted to spend time with her. How the group seemed so much alive with her there.

 How they felt like they needed to protect her because she was important to them.

How happy he saw them being when with her.

Not that he didn't understand. Being with her made him forget about everything that troubled him. 

Everything simply felt better when with her. 

He wasn't some strange fellow who people looked at oddly. He wasn't a coward that many people would mock. 

He was simply Ravio to her. 

...He liked being simply Ravio. 

And being simply Ravio meant he was more perceptive than most others. (How else had he seen through Yuga's shoddy acting when he was manipulating Hilda.) 

So it was almost immediate that he noticed the way the others became...attached to her. 

 How they started to focus more attention to her whenever she entered the room. How they began to follow her wherever she went. Even when she wished for a moment of solitude. 

How they seemed to care for her a lot more now than before.

And while it was true that they were still worried over her safety but that wasn't exactly uncommon for them either.

But the way they treated her...

They were becoming...possessive.  And protective. It was almost frightening actually.

Especially when they acted that way towards one another, especially around (Y/n).

How they glared at one another with venom one moment, only to look at her with absolute adoration the next. 

 How they looked at her as if she were the sun itself.

As if she were the entire world itself.

...Not that he blamed them. (Could he blame them?)

She was simply...perfect. 

Not to say she was a flawless person that never made a mistake. No no. 

But that's what made her perfect, she was human. She was herself. 

 She was real and real was beautiful.

He adored the times when Link would ask him to be her company, when they had business she couldn't join them in. (Business that had them strictly tell him what areas to not take her to, business that had them returning with a faint scent of blood.) 

He spoke to her, let her speak whatever was on her mind. He joined her whenever she wanted to head to town or wander the area. 

And with some made up excuses and a promise that she wouldn't go to certain places and to return at a certain time, he even let her wander off on her own. 

He had been nervous about doing so. Because (he didn't what to consider the possibility that she would walk into danger if he wasn't there.) Link had told him to always be by her side. 

But how could he listen to him when she would ask him with a nervous smile how she wanted some time to herself. 

...She shouldn't smile like that. It should be happier, more carefree. 

He could listen to Link about many things. (He had done so much for him and his homeland, it was the least he could do.) 

But...what was the harm of letting her have a moment to herself? (Even if it felt like he was being torn to two whenever she had to leave.) 

Yet when he gave her his conditions and told her he'd keep quiet... 

That strained, nervous smile would relax into one more fitting. One full of joy and excitement. 

He'd watch her wave at him as she wandered off, Sheerow fluttering around him. 

 Her journal under her arm and a bounce in her step. Only returning to the house when she vanished from his sight. 

He'd spent the whole time she was gone debating what excuse or lie he would have to give to Link.  

But she returned, always. With that beautiful wide smile, the tension gone from her shoulders.

His heart was melting and he wasn't sure how long it take for him to recover from such a beautiful sight. But he never wanted his heart to recover. (Not when it was caused by her.) 

It was love. That's what he, what the heroes, felt. 

What other emotion would make him feel as if his heart was filled with an endless warmth. As if his chest was going to explode with affection, with happiness, with love?

He loved (Y/n), and he knew everyone else did, too.

He didn't think his heart could beat this much when he thought of her. Not this fast, not this violently.

It almost hurt. It was almost too much. 

But it was never enough. He wanted more. 

When she smiled at him, his heart was ready to burst. When she held him, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her pull away. Never wanted to feel that cruel coldness that always came when she let go. 

When she wrapped a loose arm over his shoulders when they sat together, when she drifted off to sleep and slumped against him.

When her eyes brightened when she saw him when she and the others next returned to the area. 

It was him that made her have that look. Not the others, certainly not Link. (Perhaps not for a long while.) 

He wanted to keep being the reason that she was happy and relaxed. (LookAtHimLookAtHimLookAtHim) 

Ravio hated when she left, the world felt quieter, colors more muted.

But he waited patiently, because each parting meant she would return soon enough.  

She always seemed tired when she returned, but Ravio tried his best to offer her a quiet space for herself. Her expression of gratitude made going behind Link's back all the more worth it. 

Each parting meant a return. 

When he last waved her goodbye. She seemed more quiet. She still looked at him warmly. Yet much more tired. Even as the others seemed oblivious to it.

But Ravio saw.

It lingered within his mind some time after. But he tried to argue with himself over what could have happened. 

When he could think of nothing, he decided that the best course of action was to ask her in person. He wanted to help her, he wanted to ease her burdens, even a little. 

So he waited for her return. Waited so he could ask her what he needed to do in order to take the weight that had been pressing down on her. 

Waited so she could finally let herself have that moment of peace that had been so long coming.

...

.....

But she never came back....

No one did.

He waited and waited, waiting for her to return. Waiting for him to see the light in her eyes again.

He wanted to see her smile again. To hear that musical laugh.

Yet he waited. He waited as long as he could for her to come back but...she never did.

One month became two. 

And neither she, nor Link and his companions returned.

'They...They're just delayed.' He rationalized in his head. From what Mr. Hero explained, they didn't get to choose where they went. So obviously they must have found a trail and went after that shadow. 

Yes...it..it was a delay...they'll...she'll return... 

Two months became three.

But no one came. 

'What happened?' Ravio paced in the house, wringing his hands. 

 'Where did she go?'

He received no answer.

He got no response.

Only silence.

Silence that drove Ravio mad. A silence that only brought more questions.

Questions he could find no answers for.

(Why did they not return? Why were they delaying? What could possibly have happened?)

The silence was deafening and he loathed it.

"I...I just have to wait..." He whispered to himself, biting the tip of his thumb. 

"I mustn't leave. She could return any day now."  He shook his head, forcing his legs to start moving once more.

(He ignored the nagging feeling in his stomach that told him something horrible happened.)

He forced himself to stay still for a few moments. Breathing slowly. Slowly and deeply. Just...just until she returns. Just until she returns.

Just until she arrives, safe and sound, with a smile on her face and her eyes shining brightly like they had once before.

But the third month eventually led to four. 

What happened? Why haven't they returned? 

Had it been enemy? Had they've become trapped somewhere? 

Had the heroes done something to her..?

Ravio's breathed hitched at the thought.

Why...why would he think that? He's seen how they act around her. Treating her like she created the stars in the sky. 

They would never, never, do something that would lead harm to her. 

(...But she's been so stressed lately.)  

No. They wouldn't. They wouldn't do something like that. He knew that.

 The heroes would never do something that could cause trouble between them and (y/n). They'd kill themselves before doing something that would harm her.

(But why did she only feel relaxed when away from them?) 

He sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to calm the worry that plagued him.

They would be fine. (She'll be fine.)

He just has to believe that. They have to be fine.

'If anything happens, she knows she can always send a letter to me...right?.'  he thought, had he ever told her that? Had he ever told her that even when traveling, she could always reach out to him? 

 Tears springing in his eyes as he buried his head in his palms.

What could have happened, what kept her away? 

It wasn't his fault. He would never wish to cause her harm. He wanted her happy. (But he wasn't there with her all the time. The others though...) 

The others...if they...if...he clenched his hands, taking deep breaths to keep himself from falling apart.

They...they wouldn't hurt her. 

They may have become possessive, may have monitored her whereabouts...but they were...simply watching out for her...

...

...Right? 

(But what if they crossed the line?) 

A shudder ran through his body, his breathing becoming uneven again, panic starting to grip him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop his thoughts from spiraling out of control.

No...there was no way they could hurt her. (They knew better than that.) 

But...what (did they do) happened...

There was no way they wouldn't be connected to it. 

What...(did they do) happened? 

(It's going to alright. Any day now. Any day.) 

Four led into five. 

What (did they do) happened? 

And on the sixth month, he's unable to bear the quiet anymore. 

He sits at the table, head in his hands. He long since closed up the shop. Unable to think. 

Sheerow resting on his shoulder, trying to comfort him even if the little bird knew it was useless. 

He needs to know why. Where is she? Is she alright? Who took her? How did they get her?

The questions ate at his heart and tore open everything he thought he had been keeping locked away.

What did they do?

Where were they? Where was she? 

(What did they do? It's all wrong.) 

"What did they do..." He said to himself, voice breaking. "Where...where are they?"

There was no door opening behind him.

No one to come and greet him, to apologize for taking so long. 

No warm smile that would have easily soothed away the pain that had settled in his heart, placed months ago. 

He doesn't notice the tears that began dripping silently onto the table. 

No one was coming. But he didn't want to leave and be proven wrong. 

So he stayed there, staring at the table, letting the pain overtake him. Tears streaming from his eyes and the fear and pain in his heart only growing. 

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his hair tightly, staring blankly at nothing.

Everything was hurting him but he just wanted them to come back. 

His heart was hurting him but all he wanted was for her to come back. 

What did they do....

What did they do to her. (He wanted to find her but he had to stay. He had to be ready for her return.)

What did they do. (He wanted to go but he had to wait for her to return.) 

What did they do. (He had to wait for her to return.) 

He couldn't leave. (He had to wait.) 

(He couldn't leave. He had to wait.) 

(He couldn't leave.)

And all the while, his world was crumbling apart.

What did they do... 

---

---

His eyes were greeted to open skies and the sounds of battle.

..He was nowhere near where he should be.

(He shouldn't be here. She could be back and she would think he forgot about her)

He was in a daze as he walked. He didn't know how long he did.

(Why was it so hard to breathe? Why did his heart heart so much? What was happening? He shouldn't be here.)

He stumbled and hit the ground hard, shaking.

"Hey! You shouldn't be here!" He heard footsteps approach. Several.

"A civilian? Here?" "Where did he come from?"

".. need to go home.." He whispered. "I... shouldn't be here."

"Well you're right about that." One said as he stood before him, Ravio could see his boots.

Slowly, he looked up at the soldier who stared down at him.

"You seem lost little man." The soldier said, a mockingly kind smile on his lips.

"Maybe you should come with us to make sure we don't bring you any more danger."

Before he could reply another spoke up. "He's weird. Look at the state of him."

"Probably is sick." Another said. "In the head I mean"

Laughter rang out among their group.

The words didn't register in Ravio's brain and he blinked, looking at the other men who surrounded him. His mind felt fuzzy and confused, he could barely hear the words that fell from their mouths.

"you think we should-"

" don't wanna escort this guy-"

"-we don'-"

"Where...is she..." he asked quietly, trembling. (He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here.)

"Where is...she..?" The soldiers looked at eachother, then at him.

The one in front of him, their leader, chuckled.

"Aw, missing someone?" The soldier asked sarcastically.

(How could they joke about this. About her. She could be in danger.)

Ravio swallowed hard, the lump forming in his throat making it harder to breathe.

The man crouched down, smirking.

"You know we could help you find her." He offered. "For a price."

The group chortled.

"Where is she..." He repeated, his voice crackling. "Where..is she?"

He choked as he spoke.

The soldier leaned closer, staring straight into Ravio's brown eyes with an expression Ravio couldn't quite place. "You know, maybe this place has a bunch of dangerous monsters ." The man purred, a sinister glint in his eyes.

(Monsters? no no, she shouldn't be near monsters. She could get hurt...she could get hurt.)

"Who knows? Maybe she ran off, maybe she got cornered." Ravio let out a low whine at his comment, which made the group laugh again.

"That or she's dead."

'No. No.' He didn't want her dead. She had to be safe. She couldn't be dead. "No. Please, please...No." He whimpered.

The soldiers kept laughing. "Ohh. So sad. You must miss her, don't you?" He cooed.

"Please, don't say that-"

"Sorry. but that's war for you.." Their leader said. "There are a lot of casualties. She isn't special."

Ravio's breathing quickened, his body trembling violently.

(Her gone. Dead. Gone. Gone. She's not coming back.)

"What are we going to do with him..." Another soldier asked. "We have to finish patrols."

(She can't be gone. She can't. She can't be. She had to be safe.)

Their leader shrugged as he stood up.

"Where is she?" he repeated, hand reaching out to the soldier, only for him to kick it away, but Ravio didn't care about that. "Where is she?"

"Leave him. Seems deranged. Not our business." They continued walking past him, leaving Ravio in the dust.

(She's not gone. she's not. She's not.)

Ravio stood up, his breath quickening.

"Where is she.." He kept asking, His eyes widened, tears welling once again.

(Please...please, don't tell me she's gone.)

"already told you. Probably dead. Just accept it." Another soldier replied, walking past him to follow his friend. (Please...please.)

He gripped his head, shaking it.

(Nonononononononononono)

(She's not gone.)

He didn't feel himself letting go of his head. Didn't feel himself reach into his expandable pouch, the one he always carried because she told him it was always good to be ready for any situation.

Feel as he pulled out a weapon and turn to face the walking group.

(She's not deadShe's not deadThey know where she isThey are hiding herThey are trying to hurt her.)

He felt something inside him snap and suddenly, he shot out like a bullet towards the group.

The group hadn't realized what was happening, not until he was upon them, not until he grabbed the shoulder of the one who spoke to him and forced him to face him.

(What did you do.)

"Where is she." He rasped out. raising the hammer over his head with one arm.

"Where is she."

And He swung right at the soldier's head.

---

---

...What did you do Hero?

---

---

"What. Did. You. Do..." Ravio rasped out at Warriors. Frowning, staring right at the pale faced hero. 

"You...remember...?" Warriors breathed. 

 (How was this possible? How could he remember? The probability of his sword brothers remembering was high, but the merchant?) 

"Where is she?" Ravio took a step forward, never once taking his eyes off Warriors. 

Warriors simply stared back, unable to properly register this situation. 

"Where is she...? What did you do? Tell me, Hero. What did you do to her?!" Ravio demanded, slowly reaching down and grabbing the hammer's handle. 

"..I-"

"Sir!" The soldier tried to step forward as Ravio grabbed his weapon but Warriors kept his arm up. 

"You..." Ravio's voice trembled, "You were all supposed to come back. She was supposed to come back." 

Warriors was quiet, trembling. 

"I waited. But no one came." The Lorule merchant's lips twitched into a crooked smile. 

"No one CAME! No one! Not you! Not her!" He laughed  hysterically, pointing a trembling finger towards Warriors, "You were supposed to come back! You were supposed to keep her safe and happy!"

 He let out a scream. His entire body shaking.

"Why didn't you come? You should have come back! I shouldn't be here!" He screamed. 

"Ravio-" "Where is she!?" Warriors could only shake his head slowly at him. 

"We...we-"

"WHERE IS SHE?!" He screamed louder. 

"Ravio, please-"  

"You promised!! You all promised to keep her safe! And you FAILED!!" Ravio screamed, he grabbed his hammer with both hands and he lunged towards Warriors.

"Get back!" Warriors shouted at the soldier behind him, dodging out to the way by jumping to the side.

"WHERE IS SHE!" He yelled, his head followed Warriors even as the hammer hit the ground, the impact breaking the surface swiftly. 

"Please, listen to me!" Warriors shouted.

"I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!!" 

Warriors continued to dodge as the hammer flew straight towards him. The force of the hammer hitting the wall where his head has been was felt even without touching it. A few stone shards flying across flying and onto the floor.

"Where is she? WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

Another slam. Another broken surface. 

"Please! You have to listen to me!" Warrior pleaded looking back towards the other man. 

"Sir this man is clearly insane-" The soldier was cut off by another slam, and another crack.

"Ravio, please." Warriors begged.

"SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE!!!" Ravio screamed. He continued to attack Warriors. 

"I'm sorry." Was all Warriors could say.

Ravio sobbed, "I waited and waited." Ravio whispered, "But no one came." 

"Ravio..."

"She could be back, and I'm HERE!" He screamed. 

"She isn't..." Was all he could say to the merchant. 

"I waited," Ravio cried, "She could have been in danger while I waited. I have to get rid of any danger. I have to find her." 

"So you choose to kill our comrades?!" The soldier exclaimed, clamping his mouth shut as Warriors gave him a sharp look. 

Ravio shook his head wildly again, groaning in pain. 

"I have to get rid of the danger. I have to. She's not safe here." 

"The soldiers...were a danger..." Warriors said, his words calm. 

"Traitors..." Ravio groaned, "So many, I have to get rid of them. I have to kill them. She wouldn't be safe here. She doesn't KNOW." 

"She's not here. But this place is not a threat anymore." Warrior stated, "You got rid of the enemies."

"Sir! You can't just-" Warriors gave the foolish soldier such a fierce glare, the man stumbled back. 

Turning back to Ravio. He continued to speak calmly. 

"You did well to get rid of the traitors," He continued, "Less enemies to harm her." 

"I waited..." Ravio whimpered. "I waited so long." 

"I'm sorry you did." He  spoke softly, slowly stepping forward, not removing his eyes from the merchant's. "But I can explain what's happening, I can tell you how we can find her again."

Ravio looked at him. 

"Find her again.." He mumbled back. 

"Yes. We can find her again." He said gently, reaching out with one hand to touch Ravio's shoulder. Ravio flinched before relaxing slightly.

"You don't care about the rest of the world. Neither do I. Only She matters, right?" Ravio slowly nodded at him. 

"We have to get rid of any traitors here." Warriors continued, "Get rid of any possible danger to her. We have to make sure this place is safe for her, right?" 

"They...said they didn't know where she was..." Ravio said, still hesitant but less aggressive than before.

"They said they didn't know...but I knew they were lying..." He shook his head, blinking repeatedly, as if to clear his vision. "I knew better. Traitors always lie. I was going to force them to tell me, but they were stubborn, liars..." 

"So you killed them." Warriors finished, nodding his head.

Ravio nodded his head again. "I...She's not here...w-where is she?" He repeated, his whole body trembling violently.

"...She's gone." Warriors replied.

Ravio stared at Warriors with wide eyes. "Gone...?"

"She...had to go somewhere.." Warriors said calmly, "We all did...it's why you're here too..."

"...Why I'm here..." 

"Think about it, why would you be here?" Warriors asked Ravio, who continued to stand still. "You've been waiting patiently for her return. Why would you be here when she hasn't returned yet?"

"I..."

"It's alright. Just think. Why are you here. You remember this place don't you? Do you remember me? How we first met?" 

"..War...Cia..." Ravio mumbled, his breathing heavy. Warriors nodded. 

"The sorceress, the war she began. We are currently fighting her. Tell me Hero of Lorule," Warriors felt Ravio flinch under his hand, "How can you be here, how can we be fighting her if you were waiting for (y/n) back home?" 

Silence filled the room for several moments, as Ravio stood there and processed everything that was said. 

 His gaze lowered to the ground, his eyes watering. His lip quivering.

Finally, he managed to look up at Warrior, fear in his eyes.

"She's...not.." He whispered, trailing off, but Warriors knew what he was asking.

"...She isn't..." Warriors replied, eyes softening as he thought of her, "But she is not here. You remember when you met her, right?" 

Ravio nodded. 

"But if you think about it, that point in time hasn't happened yet." Warriors reasoned, "So if you're here, and the point of time when you met her is farther down the line, what do you think that means..?" 

"That she's still alive." Ravio answered quietly.

"Precisely."

"She's not dead." He said slowly. "She's...She's okay?" 

"Right." Warriors smiled weakly.

"...Is she really alive?"

"She's not dead. That woman is very strong."

"Strong..." Ravio nodded, thinking of her. "She is very strong."  He raised his head.

"What...what do we do?" He asked, wringing his bloodied hands, the fierce aggression that had been behind those eyes now settling, replaced with exhaustion and nervousness. "W-What should we do now?"

"..First we needed to meet up with the others, it's better to be around those you trust when feeling like this." Warriors explained, "Then we can decide on what to do next."

Ravio stared up at him, slowly nodding before looking around. 

"...The...bodies..." Warriors looked at the corpses around them, eyes empty of any emotion.

"What about them?" He asked,

"Traitors..." Ravio muttered.

"We'll destroy the entrance to this cave..." He answered, "Lie and say an ambush took them out. They were never meant to live beyond the war anyways." 

Ravio nodded, appeased by his response.

He shrugged, "Traitors don't live past their usefulness." 

"How could you say that?!?" Warriors looked over his shoulder at the sudden outburst. 

The soldier had his sword pointed at him. "These people risked their lives! And you decide to leave them here and take that...that monster with us?!??" 

Warriors raised an eyebrow, "I don't see how you care, you abandoned them to save yourself."

"That...is not true!" The soldier shouted back, "I went to get help!!"

"You all saw Ravio here, decided to be drunk on power and harass a clearly out of sorts man." Warriors stated, turning to face the soldier, "And when he took out several of your 'comrades', despite your clear advantage in numbers, you decided escape was the better option." 

The soldier, who's stance became slightly shaky,  stepped backwards slightly, "Th...those are not...true."

Warrior chuckled, it was not a pleasant sound. "Oh...you didn't think I knew about your little group's power trips when left alone with any refugees?" 

 He looked at the soldier, "No. Of course I knew about that, I knew about the bribes you took to lie about reports, how you tried to lord your status as a soldier to get what you wanted out of civilians." Warriors tsk'd. 

" What Ravio did to your comrades ...that wasn't part of your plan, was it? You wanted to use you authority to take advantage of a clearly unstable man and when it turned out to be a bad move, you abandoned your fellow men to save yourself." 

 He chuckled lightly, "A shame though; I might've gotten something of use out of them before I took them out myself." 

"No...they-I....!" He exclaimed, sounding desperate. "I did this because I was forced to!"

"Always with an excuse." Warrior stated, looking at the soldier steadily, "But no matter, I had no plans to keep you alive the moment I realized who you cornered." 

"You...You can't!" 

"Traitors," He scoffed, "No matter how many of you are taken out, sooner or later, someone else will always step in to take your place."

He stared down the soldier, "So killing you really won't make much of a difference. But I suppose extermination of insects never is."

The soldier trembled violently.

"You're a monster!" He shouted at him, "You are nothing but a traitorous monster!"

"Oh? Is that so?" Warrior replied, "How very hurtful...and predictable, you all always say the same thing when you face judgement."

"Y...You'll pay for this!" He growled, lunging forward at the Hero. 

"DIE!!!" The soldier shouted, raising his sword once more. 

Warriors stood there calmly as the man charged forward. 

But his attack never landed. 

The soldier could only let out a gurgle noise as a blade pierced his neck from behind. 

"One lesson I learned when dealing with traitors," Warriors  said simply, as the soldier collapsed to the floor, "Always bring backup."

The soldier let out a choking gurgle, a hand trying to stem the blood escaping his neck.

Warriors slowly walked over to the dying man, staring at him. 

"Hm...I just realized." Warriors commented, crouching down. 

"But what was your name again?" 

The soldier's eyes widened, a flash of rage passing through his eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared, it faded. 

Along with the life that those eyes once held. 

Warriors stared at the dead man for a moment before looking up. 

"Thank you for the assistance, Time." 

"You enjoy making me deal with your messes." Ravio jumped at the young voice that came out of nowhere. 

He blinked, and suddenly, a young boy was standing next to Warriors and the corpse, a grey, stone like mask in his hand.

The boy was familiar...

"...The...old man..." Ravio uttered, still blinking in confusion. 

The deceivingly young hero looked up at him and nodded. 

"I'd say it's good to see you again merchant, but I doubt you wanted to wake up here in the first place." He said as he reached over and pulled out his sword from the corpse. 

Ravio twitched but nodded all the same. 

Warriors stood up, dusting his pants, "Where's Sailor?" 

"Getting the bombs ready to seal up this place." Time answered, flicking the blood off his sword. 

Warriors nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to face Ravio. 

"We're heading out now." 

"Also, here." Time reached into his pouch and pulled out something large. 

Ravio blinked. Oh, his hood. 

The child hero tossed the hood over to the merchant who caught it. 

"Alright then, follow me." Warriors began walking away, Time following.

"Will we...see her soon?" Ravio asked quietly, Warriors didn't pause. 

"We will, eventually...but for now, we need to wait just a bit longer." 

Ravio shifted in place. 

 He...didn't want to wait anymore. He was tired of waiting. 

...But this time he wasn't the only one waiting, was he? 

"If she isn't at the end..." Ravio said after a moment, "...then I'll kill you"

"...And I'd let you." Warriors answered as he kept walking. Time silently following, but the glance he gave the Lorule merchant said the same thing. 

Ravio was free to kill them if she wasn't there.

Absorbing that answer, Ravio silently followed them. 

---

---

Ravio silently stared at the letter and his bracelet on the table. 

The captain hadn't informed him of what were the contents within, but he said it would help his counterpart greatly.

Tomorrow he would head into Hyrule to find Link. 

The war had helped him get his mind settled straight. 

Guided by the three heroes, he was able to learn control over his emotions, able to have a plan to focus on. It helped, when he returned to a desolate Lorule, one without it's Triforce. One where Hilda was manipulated by Yuga. 

But not that he had a problem hiding his thoughts.

Who would expect cowardly ol' Ravio?

Ravio stared at the bracelet and letter. Thinking about everything that would happen, what could happen. 

Just a little longer and he'll see her again. 

He just had to wait a little longer. He wasn't the only one who prayed she was at the end. 

He wondered how Link was handling this. A part of him worried for his Hyrulian counterpart. (Understandable really, to be away from her was utter pain.)

He hoped she was there. 

Because Ravio, he didn't want to kill them. 

Because killing them meant she wasn't there. 

So he hoped, hoped that he didn't have to kill them. 

He didn't want to even consider the idea that she wasn't there. 

So he wasn't going to kill them. Because she was going to be there. He just had to wait a bit longer. 

Whatever punishment he could come up with was nothing compared to what they must all be feeling. So he will meet his counterpart with an open mind. (Only when she was back, safe and sound, would he speak to him about it.)

He sighed, setting the two items in his desk and headed towards his bed.

He fell asleep early that night, he wanted tomorrow to come soon. 

Because then he's one step closer being with her again. 

...

(His heart still hurt. The world was still so cold.)

[yutahoes]

Caramel

(Part Fourteen)

gif by @noyuta I can't find the gif I always include in the story so just saved it and uploaded it. I'm sorry.

characters: ex-stripper! company vice-president! Yuta x female! ex-wealthy! secretary! mom! Y/N genre: chaptered, smut, angst, fluff word count: 4.4k words

summary: Y/N has everything in her bitter life, not until she meets a sweet-looking stripper.

warnings: matured theme, ex-stripper au!, third person POV, cursing, mentions of killing but in exclamation only

taglist: @cherrymotodude @tenjyucat @justsomekpopstuff @ilhoonseyeballs @whyme11 @a-bts-world @amazinggraxia

a/n: Supposed to post this last Wednesday but the news broke and I'm just shocked, disappointed, and devastated. Had to edit a whole scene because I didn't want to write his name at all. Also had to remove a sensitive scene that is closely related to the issue. The next chapter will be the last one and I promise there won't be any plot twists.

Haechan was annoyed at Mark’s constant questions about his plan to get the two back together. He needed a window of opportunity to make his plan work. No, scratch that. Haechan doesn’t need a window, he just needs a small seep of light to make his plan work. 

A small crack that happened a week after he first met Kenshin. “Haechan, prepare for a lunch meeting.” 

The younger one coughed, “Hyung, I’m not really feeling well.” He sniffled which earned a confused look from the two older people in the room. “Can I skip the meeting today? Noona could come with you.” 

Yuta seemed to regard the suggestion by lightly glancing at the girl who was already standing up to check on Haechan. “Are you alright?” She asked in worry, walking to his table to check on him. When the younger sneezed, Yuta held Y/N’s waist in instinct to pull her away from the younger guy. Haechan wanted to smile, the skinship looked too natural. The older guy had to apologize quietly, removing his hands from her, but the girl shook her head even thanking him. “Do you want to go home?” 

“And leave the two of you alone?” Yuta gave him a pointed look. “I’ll be fine, noona. I just needed to rest a bit.” He coughed once again. “You should go prepare and assist Hyung in his meeting.” 

With a sigh, Yuta nodded. “We’ll be leaving in ten minutes.” 

Haechan had a smile on his face when his boss entered his office and the older woman went back to her desk to fix her things. They’re finally alone. Now he’ll have to wait and see where this could lead them. He should immediately tell Mark that his plan has now commenced.

Yuta was awkwardly sitting in the backseat of his car while Y/N was seated in the passenger seat, enthusiastically talking to the driver. He didn’t know what Haechan was planning but why would he decline a lunch meeting? Obviously, he’s not sick. That's a free meal and he doesn’t have anything to do but listen to the conversation on the table. What makes him more nervous is the fact that the planned meeting will happen in his favorite restaurant. 

The driver opened the door for him and Y/N came out of the car on her own. Is he even ready to show her inside? A lunch meeting with his female secretary isn’t even a problem - this is part of her job. But having lunch with the person you once loved in a restaurant where the owner surely knows your history together isn’t even normal. 

There was a familiar smile on the person by the reception which was replaced by a wide grin when the girl entered behind Yuta. “Oh my God, you two found each other!” Taeyong exclaimed, walking to where the two guests were then hugging Y/N. “I’m so happy to see you two together.” 

Yuta shook his head. “She’s my secretary.” 

Taeyong had to look at the man in surprise then at the girl who only nodded, “What happened to the chatty one?” Y/N only giggled, reasoning that Haechan was sick and couldn’t come with the vice president today. “And I thought you two were finally together,” he claimed once again, making Yuta hiss. He quickly sat on the spot by the window which had a reserved card above the table, Taeyong graciously pulled the chair for Y/N. “I’ll get the menu for you.” 

“Taeyong works here?” She asked but Yuta supplied that he owned the place. She exclaimed in awe. The interior of the restaurant is so warm, very different from the nightclub they once worked at. It was amazing. He did achieve a lot of nice things in life.   

Yuta was surprised that Taeyong pulled a chair to sit beside Y/N after he gave her the menu. The girl was quick to congratulate him on his restaurant. “When we got a huge money because of the closing of the club, I immediately opened this restaurant.” That was truly amazing, Y/N thought. She knew for a fact that it was her mom who bought the club. It was reflected in the money she took from the company when the investigation was taking place. She’s just glad that the money served a purpose and helped her friend’s life. 

“We also came to your wedding,” Taeyong shared making her stop. That was news to her. “But the guests were already leaving so we thought it was over. Jungwoo might have given us a different time.” Oh, she thought, that actually makes sense. And she thought they never came. 

The girl played with the napkin on the table before answering in a small voice, “I didn’t get married.” Taeyong stared at her in surprise. From the corner of her vision, she saw Yuta look her way as well. “Jaehyun stopped the wedding before it could happen.” 

What the hell? She didn’t get married and Jaehyun was the one who stopped the wedding? Yuta always thought that Jaehyun was perfect. He’s handsome, tall, and rich. Turns out, he might be crazy. How could you just let go of someone like Y/N?

Jaehyun must be stupid. That was the only idea running through Yuta’s mind while the president of Hikari Studios pitched his sale on how their games would help the Suzaki group grow. A conclusion came to him almost immediately, you cannot have everything in life. And he’s somewhat glad that Jaehyun didn’t get the girl. 

But what about their child? If they didn’t get married, then is Y/N the only one who takes care of their son? Is that why she’s working so hard? But surely, the multi-billionaire Jaehyun would have given her money to take care of the child if he could not take care of them. 

Or is it another man’s child? Did she fall in love with another man? 

Damn, that is more painful than the idea of her being married.

Yuta seemed out of it. Y/N doesn’t know why he agreed to the president’s idea when their company wouldn’t benefit much from the collaboration. There’s a much better way to advertise the Suzaki group without losing their profit. An idea Haechan could not understand even if Y/N kept explaining it to him. Of course, they’re just secretaries so they just adhere to their boss’ orders. And if he already agreed to the collaboration then it’s already final. 

Imagine her surprise being called into the vice president’s office because of her idea. She wanted to curse at Haechan but seeing Yuta listening intently at her made her think that he might need this. “You wanted to make a counteroffer?” He asked, staring at the file in front of him then glanced up at her from his eyeglasses. “How many days would you need to present this?” This is pretty easy. If there was one thing that she learned from her stepdad, that would be to make an effective counteroffer. She could make it immediately if she wants to. It’s just a presentation. What takes time would be her boss understanding the idea and presenting it on his own. “Can you make this in two days?” 

She nodded. “I’ll schedule a meeting with President Go of Hikari Studios.” He claimed that confused her. Two days? So she should finish it tomorrow for him to fully grasp the concept. “You’ll present it to him in two days.” 

“What?” Y/N asked in surprise. He wanted her to present it personally to the president? It’s his job, right? “I’m just a secretary. I can’t do this.” 

The corner of his lips turned up. “You’ve done this before, right?” This is just part of her work from before. She probably talked to a hundred company presidents and executives from way before. This is really easy. But Yuta had to consider that she didn’t hold any high-ranking position in his company. She is a secretary. “This is a well-thought-out presentation, Y/N. And if there’s someone I trust in making these decisions for the company, that would be you.” 

Wait. That is a heavy responsibility for just a measly secretary. “What if I mess this up?” 

Yuta stood up, removed his glasses then placed both his hands on the table that he was leaning close to her. “And what if it works out?” She visibly gulped. At the weight of his words or the close proximity, she wasn’t sure. “I trust you more than I trust myself in these company matters, Y/N. I know you’ll do great.” 

“How are you so sure about that?” The sentence came out before she could think about it. She isn’t doubting the vice president with his decisions, that’s the first thing you shouldn’t do as a secretary. But why her? Surely, there’s someone better than her. Haechan is better than her. Yuta is better than her. 

Yuta smiled. “Because it’s you, Y/N.” 

“Hyung,” Haechan came in the door that startled Yuta, making him sit down then stared at the file before him as if caught doing something illegal. “Am I disturbing something?” Y/N had to shake her head, excusing herself to leave. 

The first secretary placed another folder on the table before Yuta called both their attention. “Haechan, you have to take care of the Open House on your own. Y/N had some tasks she had to do.” The younger nodded. “Then grab an early lunch, you two.” 

“How about you, hyung?”

“President Suzaki invited me for lunch.” Both the secretaries just nodded. 

—-

“To be honest, noona, Open House is just a grand Suzaki clan gathering,” Haechan claimed while twirling his pasta. Y/N was apologetic because it seemed like Haechan would have more work because of this so-called Open House. Ever since Yuta had muttered the term and Haechan prepared the file for the event, Y/N had been curious. This is the first time she encountered just a thing. And if the whole company is preparing for this event, it must be a big deal. “It’s when all the president’s children come to the company.” 

“Children?” 

Haechan nodded, “Yuta hyung is the oldest then there’s like twenty other kids from different mothers.” Y/N gasped in disbelief. That is a huge exaggeration. “And every year, the number gets bigger.” 

So the rumors that Jaehyun said were true. The Suzaki president really is a womanizer but isn’t that too much? “The office will look like a huge children’s party, you should bring Kenshin.” The girl glared at Haechan. “It’s a large office and a lot of kids, I’m sure he wouldn’t notice your son.” 

“Besides, knowing about hyung would stop Kenshin from asking questions about his dad.” Y/N sighed.

The girl had been to countless meetings before. She had presented a million times before, it’s an everyday scenario when she was still the Chief Marketing Officer. An impossible feat now that she’s a secretary. A sigh of relief was all she could give when Haechan entered the conference room, cheering her on. To be fair, he came to the company before her and he should be given this opportunity first. She thought he would dislike her for that chance. But Haechan was thankful because he claimed he wouldn’t have the confidence to do any of these. Which is something that is hard to believe. 

Even before the scheduled time of meeting with the president of another company, Y/N had been asking the vice president if she really could do it. This would be huge if this pulls through. Working with Hikari Studios would boost the Suzaki company’s stocks and might evidently put them on the global market. Definitely, a huge responsibility lies on her shoulders now. 

With a heavy breath, she stared at both the President of Suzaki company and Hikari Studios who looked stern then at the vice president who was staring at her with a slight smile on his face. He believes in her. He knew she’d do great. 

She couldn’t blow this up. She needed to do her best. She cannot disappoint Yuta.  

Y/N is very charming. This was the first time Yuta had watched her in her craft and he couldn’t help but be amazed at her charm. Now he knows how she could attract those stakeholders to invest in the Kims. How every chairman wants Y/N in their company, even their family. His father, who was seated opposite him at the long table, was all smiles as he stared at the girl presenting the offer they had for the other company. What is with this fondness? She isn’t married and being a single mom hasn’t stopped his dad from adding another child to his growing list of children. She should protect her from him. 

Surely his dad might have known something. It’s impossible that he had hired her without any background checks, he should have known that she was the girl he had cried about for years. He probably knows something, right? But is his own father that evil to steal away the girl he badly yearned for all these years? Yuta isn’t too close to him to know exactly that. Just to be sure, he had to save her from him. But how? Should he marry her? 

Yuta watched as the girl made her last statement then smiled as she thanked the people who listened to her. She is very charming, very pretty. How can someone not fall in love with her? He’d kill to have her in his life, even his arms. Marrying her wasn’t a bad thought.  

It was a successful presentation, an agreement between two companies that would benefit them both. The president was so proud of Y/N that he was supposed to hug her but Yuta walked between the two. “She’s my employee, I’ll compensate for her hard work.” He claimed making Haechan laugh. 

Y/N was more nervous standing in front of Yuta in his office. She knew she did a great job, both presidents complimented her for the amazing presentation. So why is she suddenly called in her boss’ office? Yuta was signing the papers to be submitted to the other company as she watched, fingers drumming along her thigh in nervousness. “Are you going home early?” Yuta asked in a soft voice. Y/N had nothing left to do in the office. She just wanted to go home and have dinner with her son. But why would he ask that? “There’s a newly opened Michelin-starred seafood restaurant nearby. You like seafood right?” He asked in one breath, not even looking at her. 

“I don’t eat seafood.” Yuta stopped signing the paper, obviously startled. What? She loves seafood. “Can I just leave early tonight, sir? I’ll come in early tomorrow for the Open House.” Can’t they just have a decent dinner together? Does she hate him that much? 

Yuta nodded, handing her the folder that had the signed forms for the collaboration. “The party will begin at eight am tomorrow,” he reminded. “You should also bring your son along.” Y/N’s eyes were wide. Wait, how did he know that she has a son? “Haechan told me about him.” Y/N only nodded. 

—-- 

“Should I kill Haechan?” The girl asked making Mark giggle. Y/N even stabbed the grilled squid with a fork. “I shouldn’t have introduced Kenshin to him,” She claimed then bit the squid. “It’s not too late to tell Ken that he cannot come to the office tomorrow, right?”  

“After you asked him to sleep early?” Mark asked while shaking his head. The only reason she asked him to sleep early was because she wanted to eat seafood all of a sudden. While heading home, she tried to search for the new seafood restaurant her boss mentioned and craved the lobster from the homepage. Why is her son allergic to seafood when she loves it so much? “He’s already excited for the bouncy house.” 

Before Yuta mentioned her son, Haechan had made it a point to invite both Mark and Ken to the Open House. Y/N didn’t even know that her son could get enticed by a simple bouncy house. “Maybe Haechan doesn’t want any harm. It’s not bad though, Kenshin knowing about his dad would lessen his questions.” And she doesn’t know that Haechan and Mark are close. They almost have the same idea about this. 

She squinted her eyes at him, “Are you planning this with Haechan?” 

The younger guy giggled, “You know my money is on you and Jaehyun hyung ending up together, right?” The girl pouted. Jaehyun. Maybe Jahyun could help. Pretend that he’s Kenshin’s dad perhaps? But that would be very impossible. It only takes one look to know who Kenshin’s dad is and obviously, it isn’t Jung Jaehyun. “Noona, it’s a huge company building with a lot of kids. I’m sure your boss wouldn’t notice Ken.” 

Y/N sighed. There’s nothing she could do now. But nothing could go wrong, right? 

Yuta hated this event the most. All these kids running around the office building just because his father cannot calm his testosterone. The mothers of his siblings were either flirting with him or telling him to get married which annoyed the hell out of him. He blew the smoke of the cigarette, rolling his eyes at the thought. Marriage? That was a funny thing to say. How could he even get married when the girl he wants is in the building with her child? A son? Does he look like her? Maybe Jaehyun? Or maybe that other man who got her pregnant. 

With a final swig of the cigarette, Yuta smiled. If he wanted to see what her son looked like, he shouldn’t be hiding here.  

“Mommy said cigarettes are bad.” A young kid claimed that startled Yuta. The boy was wearing a Pororo T-shirt while pushing his eyeglasses up. A new face, this is the first time Yuta saw this kid. But there’s no doubt that this kid is one of his father’s sons. Those doe-like boba eyes. “You are so tall, uncle.” Uncle? “Can you carry me on your back?” Yuta stared at him, eyebrow raised. Who is his mom? Is it someone he knew? How old is he? Four? Five? “I just wanted to see if the air is different up there.” The guy had to laugh at that. 

Well, there is surely one way to know if he truly is a Suzaki kid. “Why don’t you ask your dad to do that?” 

The young boy pouted making Yuta smile. He’s cute. “I don’t have a dad.” Yes, he’s definitely a Suzaki kid. 

Compared to his other siblings, this kid is very talkative. All his siblings would either be too scared or embarrassed to talk to him. What makes him so endearing is how excited he got when he sat on Yuta’s shoulder. His giggles are so infectious that Yuta guessed he might have grown up in a loving environment.   

He was walking to the hallways of his office when he bumped into Haechan next to another guy who was wearing glasses. “Mark hyung,” the kid called. “Haechannie.” 

Wait, he knows Haechan? Both guys were looking at him in surprise. “Do you know him, Haechan?” Yuta asked. “Is he your brother?” 

The guy shook his head before another figure turned the corner. Y/N was holding a Pororo bag, about to talk to Haechan when she stopped in her tracks. “Mommy!” the kid called. “Look, I’m super tall now. The air here is very different.” 

“Mommy?” Yuta asked. His ears aren’t tricking him, right? But Y/N walked to where he was, asking the young boy to come down. She was so close to him as she carried the young boy but he remained frozen in his place. “Mommy?” Yuta repeated.    

The girl held the young boy’s hand. “This is my son, Kenshin.” She introduced then faced the younger boy, “That is my boss. Say hi to him, Ken.” 

The young boy was mirroring the same expression as Yuta, confused. “You said your boss is mean and scary.” Haechan snickered, taking Ken’s free hand and the Pororo bag. “Let’s go to the bouncy house.” 

Before Y/N could say something, Mark and Haechan were walking away holding both Kenshin’s hands. How could they meet like that? This is a huge office building with lots of kids. What are the odds that Yuta was carrying Kenshin on his shoulders? He probably knows, right? “That was your son?” She had to glance at Yuta in surprise. Wait, he doesn’t know? 

Yuta brushed his hair up. This is mind-boggling. That kid, with the infectious giggle, is his son. But he clearly has his father’s eyes. Is Y/N one of his father’s countless women? But how? It can’t be possible. But then again, those eyes. Traits that his siblings have, traits that they all got from his father. A sure sign that someone is a Suzaki. 

Then it hit. He also has the same eyes. He’s the oldest Suzaki child after all. And judging from his age. A gasp escaped Yuta’s lips. “He’s my son, isn’t he?” Y/N didn’t need to confirm his thoughts. Everything is clicking into place. “Fuck, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?” His voice became louder and she visibly flinched. Some of the workers and guests walking in the hallway were looking at them. 

Yuta had no choice but to hold her hand and drag her to his office, closing the door behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I thought you knew,” she reasoned out, making him puzzled. “You said Haechan told you.” 

The guy had to clench his fist in anger. “Haechan knows?” She nodded, “Lee Haechan, that kid. I’m going to kill that brat.” He breathed heavily before looking at her once again. “He only said you have a son, I didn’t know he was mine.” Even those words seemed very weird to say out loud for Yuta. “Why didn’t you just tell me the first time? You could have just walked to my office and told me, ‘Yuta, I have your son.’.” 

“And would you even believe me?” 

“God damn, Y/N!” he shouted and she stepped back in fright. “Even if you tell me right now that you have three eyes, I would blindly believe you.” He lightly punched his table. “You just have no idea how crazy I am for you, huh?” Yuta breathed hard. He cannot be mad right now. He needed answers. “Since when have you found out that you were pregnant?” 

The girl was fiddling her thumbs in nervousness. “I confirmed it a day before the wedding with Jaehyun.” 

“Is that why he didn’t marry you?” 

She shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone.” Her voice was so soft that Yuta had to focus just to hear her words. “Jaehyun met him in Canada when he was already three.”

“And you were alone the whole time?” 

“The couple who took me in when I was in Canada helped me.” She shared, head bent down. “They were supposed to adopt Kenshin when I gave birth to him.” What? At this point, Yuta wanted to get mad. She’s just going to give her child to other people? Their child? “I don’t want to be a mom. I’m scared to be a mom. I don’t want to be like her.” Y/N’s knees gave out and she plopped to the ground. “But he smiled at me and when I hushed him, I was reminded of you.” Yuta glanced at her and that’s when he noticed the tears falling from her eyes. “I cannot give him up. Kenshin only has me.”

Yuta kneeled down so that they were at eye level with each other. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“I tried looking for you. I even thought she did something bad to you.” Her voice was hushed in between choking sobs. “I’m so glad to see you again. Alive and well. Better than me, in fact.”

The guy sat cross-legged in front of her, wiping the tears on her cheek. “Then why didn’t you tell me anything?” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m after your money, Yuta.”

He smiled. Yuta held her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of her palm. This is all just a misunderstanding. He could have saved some tears. She could be in his arms right now. “We should have talked like this before.” 

“You hated me.” 

“Because I thought you married Jaehyun,” She was about to revolt when he continued, “I only found out about it when we saw Taeyong.” Once again, he smiled. “I also found out that you have a son and I was mad that you got to move on with your life when I was in shambles because of you.” Yuta breathed hard, laughing to himself at how absurd everything was. God damn, all this time it’s just a miscommunication. “The only reason I opened this company was to show Jaehyun that I can be better than him. Then maybe, just maybe, I can take you back.”     

His hand brushed against hers, threading their fingers together. “What should we do now?” She asked innocently, looking at their hands. 

The guy had to pull her closer, his free hand holding her chin to make her look at him. “If you’ll let me, I want to make up for the lost time with Kenshin.” His voice had a soft, hushed tone. “I’m also scared to be a father but you have been an amazing mom so I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ll try my best to be worthy of Kenshin.” 

Y/N’s tears welled in her eyes. When she was just imagining the scenario of Yuta finding out about his son, this wasn’t what she had in mind. She thought he'd get mad. She hid these from him for years. But here he is, whispering apologies for coming too late. “So can you please introduce me to Kenshin as his dad and not your scary, mean boss?” The girl had to laugh, nodding. 

Yuta had to help her stand up, hands still interlocked with each other. “Y/N,” he called which made her look at his face. He smiled warmly, she’s really here with him. “Can I hug you?” The girl nodded before he removed his hold on her, wrapping her in his arms. She’s finally in his arms. “I missed you.” He then pulled her closer, not wanting to let her go. “God, I missed you so much.” 

The tears fell from Y/N’s eyes. Yuta’s warmth that she had been yearning all along. His sweet scent that she had missed all this time. “I miss you too, Yuta.”