#hope she rots in hell with all the other bastards

[chiscaralight]

hello ^=^

I really like your writing very much!

Can you write about Model!reader x mafia! scaramouche?

The idea is kind of strange but I can't stop imagining Darling as a famous model all over Teyvat who was in a toxic relationship with a famous actor but the media covered it up until Darling met Scaramouch by chance When she was in a bar and she did not know that it was his property because the Fatui is a dangerous gang known for its dirty methods

Or maybe she witnessed a murder and he had to avoid the possibility of her exposing him so he kidnapped her.

I don't know if you're comfortable with this or not but can you add a part where Scaramouche order Darling to lick the gun?

hi thanku sm! this is definetly out of my usual writing comfort bubble but I absolutely love the idea. i like both of your concepts so I tried to combine them. i also didn't directly make darling lick the gun bc of him, but it was definitely in their mouth lmfao i hope at the very least it works for you! once I saw the ask I literally went to take a walk to think about to do with it lol. but it was so so much fun! thank u for this ask<3

mafia!scaramouche x model!reader nsfw. its kinda long imo. gun play. mentioned assault, cheating?kind of. oral m receiving. fingering. mentions of blood tasting?, uhhh probably missed some tags but enjoy!

there's nowhere you can go where you're not getting recognized. granted, you're almost world famous. a gorgeous model that everyone is pining to be. perfect face, perfect body, in the sweetest relationship with one of the biggest actors. everything was supposed to be amazing! but that stupid man you call your boyfriend is making your life a living hell.

you're sliding the sleeve of your dress a little lower to hide the bruise he gave you earlier as you lean against the bar. the place has the perfect atmosphere for a lovely date night. too bad when that brute gets here it'll be anything but fun. speaking of which, where is he? you'd been sitting alone at the bar for almost half an hour and while he was an asshole, he knew how to keep to time.

so you decide to go outside and wait. it'll be nice to get some breeze after being cooped up in the atmosphere of the building alone will be nice before the inevitable change of tide. your heels are clicking down the sidewalk, masked by the sound of cars passing by and signs buzzing. then you hear it. it sounds like, shouting, arguing? it's coming from the alley up ahead.

you're trying to keep your noise to a minimum as you peer your head into the alleyway. there you see... your boyfriend????

he's on his knees, being held down by two men. there's a woman, who's frantically explaining how he tried to touch her, and that's when you see the crest on her jacket. your eyes widen. the fatui. they're insanely bad news. you've heard all about them through the grapevine, about how tight-knit they are and super secure. so why was the man who was holding the gun towards your boyfriend's head not wearing the symbol anywhere at all?

before you can even process the thought, the loud bang from the gun is ringing in your ears. you can't control the gasp you let out, and all four people that are still alive are snapping towards you.

your lip is sucked in between your teeth as you're holding back tears. the same gun that has been in this man's hand is pressed against your powdered forehead in silence. it's the other lady who speaks first, muttering something about how your 'man' is a criminal. the only words you can get out are:

"i know."

now scaramouche's interest has been piqued. he nudges you with the barrel of the gun and you're looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. you're a pretty thing like this, near the end of your life but still so composed and meek. you drag your sleeve up, and you catch the way his eyebrows furrow. the lady's head turns in confusion as you speak.

"the bastard has been abusing me for months. even if you kill me now, i'll die happy knowing that bastard is rotting in hell."

another wave of silence.

scaramouche drops the gun. he orders the two other underlings to let you go and dispose of the body behind you. he whispers something to the last fatui before she nods and helps you up. a breath you didn't know you were holding escapes your lips and she tells you to follow her.

you're back in the bar, but away from all the eyes of the public. it's somewhere secluded, the area calm and decorated as you wait. you don't know what for, but you're waiting. you expect to see the lady from before, but what you're met with is that man again.

you soon learn his name is Scaramouche, one of the higher-ups in the organization. you're both staring at each other again and in the blink of an eye, his gun is pointed at you once again from the other side of his room. he's not going to shoot, obviously. he's testing you.

and you pass with flying colors! your demeanor doesn't shake once. your eyes are locked onto his and your body is still. he's closing the gap between where you're sitting and him, and the tension in the air is thick. soon enough, the muzzle of the gun is mere millimeters away from your lips. he's looking down at you. and you blink up sweetly at him before you drag your tongue along the side of the barrel. he can't hide the smile that pushes against his lips. he's going to have so much fun with you.

your lips are wrapped tightly around his cock, sucking as good as you can while the firearm is pressed to the side of your head. he's sitting back on the sofa so lazily, watching as you bob your head so perfectly. he's wishing he shot that deadbeat boyfriend of yours weeks ago when he had the chance, maybe he wouldn't have had to wait for such a perfect mouth to suck him off like this. his free hand slides to fist your hair as he draws closer to his climax. the tight grip causes you to moan around him, and he's cumming into your mouth, cum sliding down your throat as he fucks his orgasm into your mouth. but the two of you are far from done.

your dress is bunched up above your hips, giving him the perfect view of the cunt he's bullying. he's thrusting into you hard, finger resting on the trigger as the gun lays softly against your tongue. he's groaning, reminding you it's fully loaded, and the only thing you give him in response is the small view of your tongue circling the barrel. you're the one with the deadly weapon aimed at you, but he's almost sure that you're going to kill him like this. how many times do you get to see such a doll like this, taking you in so well as their life literally lay entirely in your hands? your eyes are struggling to stay open and you're clenching around him extra hard, so he leans down to give you one word. cum.

the way this one hits you is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure as you arch up into him.

when you finally come to, he pulls the gun away to aim it at his head. your eyes go wide as you can see his finger weigh down on the trigger. you're attempting to stop him, weak arm reaching at just as soon as he-

nothing.

the gun was empty the entire time. and the laugh he lets out is so annoying, that you're almost pushing him off of you. don't scowl at him like that. it doesn't fit that pretty face of yours. but he tells you not to worry! because the next time he has you like this, hell make sure the gun is fully loaded. and it'll be in your hands, not his.

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (07)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out, blood, pregnancy, discussion of abortion, giving birth

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 6.1k

← Previous Chapter (06) | Next Chapter (08) →

****

Six Years Ago, 2017:

France was not all that you expected. One would think people pursuing their doctorate degrees would be busier with their academic lives, but it looked like French people cared more about their social lives.

"Come on, just a few more steps!" Elyna, your classmate, chuckled while dragging your warm, sweaty body across the street. She almost tasted victory when she got a glimpse of the façade of your apartment.

Admittedly, Elyna still gets jealous whenever she remembers your apartment being nicer than hers. Talk about favoritism, huh? You were both scholars of Sorbonne University pursuing your doctorate degrees, but Professor Verlaine liked you the most.

"There you go! You can look after yourself, right? Bye, cutie." Elyna kissed your cheek before practically throwing you in your front door.

You were smaller in stature compared to your French classmates, making it easier for them to push and pull you around. You groaned when your back hit the door.

You were too drunk to cuss your classmate, so you could only suck it up and push yourself to enter your apartment. After what felt like forever, you finally stumbled inside, puffing out a breath and debating whether to just sleep on the floor.

Hours of clubbing with your classmates messed you up. You shouldn't have gone with them, but those shitty French didn't really give you a choice. Even Verlaine encouraged you to go out, going as far as postponing the submission of your business paper so you could have a fun Friday night.

Verlaine's exact words were, "Have fun. You've been in France for months already. You're the only international student who hasn't gone clubbing here."

You did not care for clubs. In fact, you hated them. You only attended your graduation parties and some quiet bars with Jungkook.

"Hah! Stupid pompous freak!" You cussed your traitor of a best friend, wanting nothing but to beat yourself for thinking about that bastard. You had done so well suppressing thoughts about Jungkook for the whole day. It's ten minutes before midnight. How could you fail so miserably?

You struggled to fish your phone out of your pocket, vision doubling, but that did not stop you from sending chains of messages to Jungkook.

To: Jungkook-shit I fucking hate you traitor

To: Jungkook-shit yoi betrayed me freak,. i hope you rot in hell

To: Jungkook-shit fucker

To: Jungkook-shit i hate you so mcuch pleas fo me a favor snd die

To: Jungkook-shit i will ndcevef dorgive you digshfit 

To: Jungkook-shit dick 

To: Jungkook-shit duck you

To: Jungkook-shit ny heart hirts

To: Jungkook-shitcan we go back?

The last message remained unsent as your intoxication finally caught up to you. You dropped your phone on the floor, face hitting the cold tiles as darkness clouded your vision.

You fell asleep.

***

That night, you had a long dream, which you were pretty sure had happened in real life—back when you were still very small, probably at five years old.

If you thought about it, you'd say the dream slash memory was triggered by going to a club with Elyna and the others. Your dream started off in a club, too.

Your Jisoo-unnie told you to hide in the closet and never make a sound, no matter who tried calling your name. You were an obedient child, only trusting your older sister. But it didn't mean your mother was as kind as Jisoo. Your mom would boss you around as she entertained guests. You basically served as an errand girl at a young age, forced to keep your mouth shut even when you saw your mother and the other girls get violently beaten up by rogue men.

"Where is my sister!?"

You were lighting heavy scented candles for your mother and client when you heard your sister's voice.

Your ears involuntarily perked up. You threw the matchbox aside and immediately ran out of the club's private room.

"Jisoo-unnie?" You blinked innocently.

Your sister was standing there, looking as if she was going to smack your mother. But Jisoo stopped when she heard you call for her.

"Don't take her away!" Your mother screeched and tried to pull Jisoo's hair.

Jisoo dodged, immediately running toward you and hugging your frail body. She covered your ears. "I will take her away! Please. Stop it! She’s just a kid!"

"Bah!" Your mother spat. "She earns me money, unlike a brat like you!"

"I will take her place." Jisoo did not even hesitate. She hugged you tighter. "Let me be your errand girl or whatever you want me to do. I will do it. Just leave her alone."

You couldn't properly hear what the adults were talking about. Jisoo covered your ear tighter to ensure you heard nothing. It took a while before your mother spat on the ground for the second time, but she relented and let Jisoo take you away.

Your memories were pretty vague. All you remembered was that Jisoo had brought you into a tiny apartment; it was cramped and dark and smelled like dead rats. But it was better than those heavy-scented rooms at the club. At least in here, Jisoo cared for you and did not try to beat you up.

It didn't mean all your trauma would go away instantly, though. There were many moments when you would wake up in the middle of the night, silently crying because of a nightmare. You usually dreamt about your mother's client beating up girls and throwing profanities at everyone, including you.

"It's okay, my little one. Your Jisoo-unnie is here, I'll protect you." You weren't sure if you were recalling memories of the past or if it was just part of your drunken dream. All you knew was that Jisoo's warm embrace was palpable. She used to cradle your little body in her arms.

You were a docile kid, wings clipped by those men at the club. They used to threaten to beat you up if you so much as made a small noise or a mistake. For a long time, you carried that pain and refused to talk to your Jisoo-unnie, or anyone else, for that matter. At school, kids made fun of you for acting all meek and weak.

There was a time when Jisoo was called by your teacher, asking if there was something wrong at home for you to act so distantly. You were seven years old around at this time, and you still didn't understand adult words. You just recalled your teacher telling Jisoo that you needed therapy or whatever that was.

Jisoo was barely of legal age. Your mother had a cut whenever Jisoo took in clients at the club. She spent more than half her money to feed you and ensure you could attend class.

Your Jisoo-unnie only had one reminder: "Study well, my dear. That's all I ask. You can get anything you want if you're smart and have lots of money."

You still didn't speak much but diligently followed whatever your sister said. Things took a turn after your teacher talked to Jisoo. The latter took the teacher's advice to heart, but she didn't have enough money to bring you to a professional. She could simply improvise.

"My dear, there's nothing to be scared of anymore, okay? I won't ever hurt you the way they did. Here," Jisoo offered her cheek to you. "You can slap me and tell me all the bad things those men did to you, I won't ever fight back."

You shook your head rapidly, cowering. Memories of those nasty men came like a tidal wave, sweeping you off your feet until you felt nauseated.

"Sshh, my dear. It's okay. Just try, okay...You're okay."

It took a lot of conviction before you relented. Every day, Jisoo would coax you to act like a regular kid who was not frightened of acting difficult and throwing tantrums. She made you feel like it was okay to be mean and that whatever you did or said, you would still be loved—this was the beginning of you having a sharp mouth that couldn't go one statement with profanities leaving your mouth.

You got away with so many things because of Jisoo.

That had been your setup for many years, but your life slowly progressed. You worked hard in school while Jisoo did all the jobs available to her. You got out of that tiny apartment and were able to move to a new house. You were initially reluctant to leave, afraid you would lose connection with the first friend you made in the neighborhood—Jungkook.

You didn't talk to Jungkook before, either. You two would casually sit beside each other and be in your own world.

"You don't have an adult at home? Cool, me too." That was the first thing Jungkook told you. You weren't bothered by his presence before, but Jungkook had become insufferable over time, teasing you here and there until you had to snarl at him.

Despite your banter, you had grown attached to Jungkook and even begged Jisoo not to separate you. Jisoo smiled at you, ruffling your hair and explaining that you would only move to a nicer home, but it was still around the area.

You felt relief flood your veins. Things were going well. You slowly healed from your traumatic childhood as you stayed close to Jungkook and your Jisso-unnie. Your sister kept her promise, never once leaving you.

Every day, Jisoo would go home to you. You gingerly waited for your sister to arrive; you'd set aside your homework and other stuff to open your front door and greet Jisoo with a simple "Welcome home!"

You couldn't maintain your happy façade as Jisoo smiled faintly at you, coughing and smelling like smoke. There were bags under her eyes, too exhausted at her work at the club.

You were getting older. You thought you could apply for a part-time job and help your sibling with the expenses, but Jisoo wanted you to focus on your studies. She brushed your concern off, saying, "It's just secondhand smoke. You know those men at the club, they can't live without cigarettes. Don't worry."

As usual, you blindly followed your sister's request. You hid your verbal concerns and could only welcome her home with hot water with honey. You did your best to care for your Jisoo-unnie until you moved to the university dorm and got busier with school. As time passed, your time with Jisoo lessened until it reached a point where Jisoo would not contact you. She even went as far as betraying you.

She must have known, right? How could she not know that you were hopelessly in love with Jungkook? How could the two most important people in your life betray you like this?

It just didn't make sense.

But then again, nothing made sense—not when feelings were involved. For instance, you flew all the way to Europe so you wouldn't have to deal with the mess back in Incheon. You had cut off connections with Jungkook and Jisoo, but months later, right when you were recovering from your hangover from clubbing too much, was when your doorbell rang.

It's probably Professor Verlaine, you thought. You didn't bother checking the peephole because, for one, you didn't want to see your professor looking prim and proper while you looked like shit. You were still wearing your clothes from last night and you just got up from the floor. Seeing Verlaine at the peephole would make you want to freshen up first; you just didn't have the energy for that.

And for fuck's sake. It's seven in the morning. Seven! Anyone who dared to disturb you at this ungodly hour deserved to see your bed hair, drool on the side of your mouth included.

So you opened the door, fully expecting to grin at your professor, but your smile froze mid-air.

You were still hungover, yet your reflexes were as agile as ever.

You slammed the door shut—no, wait, that's wrong. You swore you were about to slam the door shut. You were not a pushover and didn't intend to talk to your traitor sister.

But you stood there, stiff and unable to shut the door to her face when you heard her cough.

A stupid fucking cough.

Jisoo coughed, and you felt as if you were a child again, excited to open the door and welcome your sister home with hot water mixed with honey from the comb.

***

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Jisoo could go a long time without contacting you, though she could never cut you off completely.

Once, she promised to stay with you forever, and until now, that promise still stands.

A promise is a promise.

Jisoo was sitting on your couch. You foolishly let her in, heart still throbbing after hearing your sister's cough. It was just a stupid cough, yet you felt your resolve crumbling.

This can't be. You couldn't possibly still have a soft spot for her.

"Ya having a sidepiece spawn?"—so you attacked her.

Jisoo visibly flinched at the roughness of your tone. You sighed a breath of relief. Her expression would help you sleep at night: Jisoo lowered her eyes, lashes trembling because of your intense look at her stomach. You longed to damage her heart until all she wished to do was run.

Jisoo called your name, choking back a sob. It was hard to say if it was because of the guilt she felt toward you or if it was because of what you called her unborn child.

Yes, Jisoo was heavily pregnant.

It was unfair. Jisoo felt the kick in her belly while you felt like your heart had been stomped.

"It's Jungkook's." There was no room for rebuttal. You said it with finality.

Jisoo didn't deny it, either.

"Of fucking course." You chuckled mercilessly. "How many rounds of 'playing around' did it take before you finally managed to get knocked up?"

"We weren't playing around." Jisoo defended. It was real. The thing they have done, it was real. "But I never dated him."

You scoffed. "But you fucked him." Your jaw slackened. Looking at your sister ignited your anger.

"Once." Jisoo was desperate.

You did not know what to feel anymore. A searing headache hit you. You barked a laugh.

"Tell me, Jisoo-unnie," you said pointedly. You might as well knife her heart. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Crashing defeat settled at the pit of Jisoo's stomach. The baby kicked her tummy aggressively like it was punishing her, too.

Jisoo called your name, trying again. "It was a one-time thing."

"A one-time thing." You repeated. It was probably said to reassure you, but it didn't. If anything, you just found a way to nitpick her excuse. "Not a one-time mistake?"

Jisoo inhaled sharply. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to cup her stomach to calm her baby, but she saw your piercing gaze there, leaving Jisoo no choice but to keep her hands on her side.

"We were both drunk. I admit, it was a moment of weakness."

Cliche. You snarled, feeling acid burn your throat. You wanted to vomit bile. "Still not calling it a mistake?"

"We both wanted it."

"Why!" Millions of questions attacked your head at once. Why did you betray me!? Why did you sleep with him, out of all people!? Was it good!? Was it worth breaking my trust? Why did you want it!?

Jisoo parted her lips, seemingly ready to answer your query, but you raised your hand to shut her up.

Jisoo obediently followed. 

"Don't answer that." You felt your knees buckling. You wanted to crawl and die.

"It is—"

"Please, stop." You were certain your heart had been broken to pieces, and you thought there was no way Jisoo could shatter it more.

But now you weren’t so sure anymore.

You could only storm off to your room, slamming the door and hoping Jisoo would leave you alone.

***

Jisoo did not leave you alone. She was sheepishly sitting on the couch when you emerged from your room.

"You're still here," you observed, no snark in your voice, but exhaustion was there. 

"I will be here," Jisoo responded with a small smile.

You ignored her, but she kept her promise.

She stayed the whole day in your home. The next day, she was still there.

Then the next.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

You couldn't keep track anymore.

***

You and Jisoo were certainly not on good terms or talking terms. Fortunately, you learned to cohabitate without tearing each other apart.

Sometimes, you would buy baby clothes for Jisoo's child. You’d leave the shopping bag on the couch where your sister usually sat. However, you wouldn’t wait to see her reaction after checking the clothes.

Once, though, you accidentally saw her hugging the new clothes you had bought.

You caught Jisoo's gaze. Your sister smiled shyly at you.

Unlike before, you didn't immediately look away. In fact, you gazed at her as if asking, "It's white. A pretty neutral color. That should work, right?"

You weren't siblings without a reason. Jisoo picked up the question in your eyes.

She embraced the clothes tighter. "It's a boy. You’re going to have a nephew."

You did not react. You cast your gaze away and wordlessly left your sister alone.

But the next day, you had ten shopping bags in your hand. You left them at the usual spot.

Blue. You brought blue clothes and a bunch of toys.

You also brought pink clothes because assigning colors to gender was stupid.

But also because your nephew would surely look cute in blue, pink, and all other colors.

***

Jisoo was 32 weeks pregnant when you made up your mind to say something to her.

"That's it." You barged into the bathroom, catching your sister on the spot. She was vomiting blood.

Jisoo gave a start; her eyes were glistening with tears when she snapped her head up and met your glare. She hurriedly wiped her mouth.

"Why are you here?" Jisoo felt cornered, so she stepped back like a frightened lamb.

You smacked your lips together, finding this situation ridiculous. Jisoo had already slept with Jungkook; nothing could ever top that betrayal, so why was she acting like you would strangle her for puking blood?

"This is my apartment, in case you forgot."

"That's not what I meant." Jisoo inhaled as she struggled to swallow blood back to her stomach. "You're supposed to be at school."

"Yeah, whatever I skipped." You couldn't bear to see your trembling sister any longer. You helped her sit on the wide edge of the bathtub.

You worried about your Jisoo-unnie. She'd been retching in the bathroom almost daily. She thought she could hide it by turning the faucet on to muffle the sound, but she was wrong.

You planned to put an end to this. Your brow creased. "Enough with your bullshit. You are thirty-two weeks pregnant, and you can't possibly still be experiencing morning sickness. Even if you were, you'd be vomiting vile or that strawberry yogurt you've been eating every day. Not fucking blood."

"It's fine." Jisoo brushed it off, making a move to stand and end this conversation. You two never talked for more than one minute since she arrived, so why were you being loud now?

"You are not getting out of this conversation." You blocked her way out, glaring at her with the storm in your eyes. "I'll ask again. Why are you vomiting blood?"

The silence was deafening.

You wanted to punch the mirror. You cursed your sister; your eyes were turning bloodshot. The betrayal from before was back in full force. The fact that Jisoo wasn't telling you anything made you feel like she was hiding a nasty secret again.

You couldn't handle any more treachery. You might actually die.

"Don't lie to me again—" You cut yourself off, afraid you’d make yourself look pathetic by murmuring a soft please.

Jisoo stubbornly refused to speak. She watched as tears fell into her open palm.

She had done so well hiding this. She didn't want to tell you about her sickness, but every second that passed made Jisoo feel like the distance between you and her was stretching.

In the end, she could only concede. 

"I'm dying." Shallow breath. "I've cancer."

This time, it wasn't the distance that stretched but the silence.

Jisoo dared to peek at your reaction as the silence made her uncomfortable. Only two people knew she was sick: Jungkook and now you.

Jungkook at least hugged her and wiped her hands, telling her it would be all right.

But Jungkook was Jungkook. She hadn't done anything to hurt him.

But you? She shattered and betrayed you, so she should have expected it when she heard your giddy chuckle. However, when Jisoo looked at you, no sign of happiness or sadness could be traced on your face.

It was eerily impassive.

And then she heard you say:

"Good. That's good. I hope you die."

The bathroom door slammed shut, leaving Jisoo with tears in her eyes and kicking unborn child.

****

Jisoo was 33 weeks pregnant when you gave up on radio silence. Your sister was lying on the bed she bought herself. Your apartment only had one bedroom, but Jisoo still squeezed herself in. Seeing her dozing off on the couch was a pain, so one day, you brought brochures where Jisoo could choose a bed of her liking.

Jisoo bought a single bed, putting it close to your bed. You two slept without bothering each other. Tonight, though, you couldn't take it anymore.

You lay on your side, staring directly at Jisoo. Your sister was already looking at you.

She smiled and said hi.

You didn't bother with greetings. You went straight to the point.

"What type of cancer." It was like you were reporting the weather, refusing to ask the question properly. Your monotonous voice made you appear apathetic. No one knew how heavy your heart was.

"Does it matter?" Jisoo cupped her bulging belly. Her baby seemed excited whenever he heard his aunt speaking. He was wildly kicking Jisoo's belly.

"Tsk. Just answer the damn question. Why do you have to make everything difficult?"

This was starting to get on your nerves. Even after everything that happened, you still weren’t used to Jisoo not indulging you.

"It's not difficult. It just doesn't matter. I'm dying, anyway." Just like what you wanted. But Jisoo didn't say the last part. She was not in a position to hold grudges against you.

You hugged your pillow to your chest like you wanted to shield your heart that was about to jump out of your body.

"Just answer."

It was getting harder for you to breathe. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead; you couldn't seem to get the image of Jisoo coughing in your head.

Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer—

"It's lung cancer."

Your heart missed a beat.

"How much time do you have left?" You dug your nails into the pillow while Jisoo sighed. She was sure you couldn't wait for her to die.

"Not too long. Maybe I'll pass soon after I have my baby."

"But why." Jisoo wasn't sure if she was imagining things, but she thought she heard you whine. "Don't you have a treatment plan? Fucking chemotherapy and stuff?"

"Chemotherapy is harmful for the baby." Jisoo's tone was soft.

"Fuck the baby!"

Even you were surprised by how resentful you were. But it was true, wasn't it? Her baby was the devil's spawn. It was the fruit of betrayal, so why was Jisoo choosing it over herself?

"Why didn't you abort it?" You abruptly sat on the bed, shooting daggers at Jisoo. A whirlpool of abuse danced at the tip of your tongue. You didn't voice it out because Jisoo looked sad.

"Don't be like that to Soobin."

"Who the fuck is Soobin? Why should I care!?"

"It's your nephew's name," Jisoo explained patiently as she caressed her stomach. Soobin had stopped kicking, probably scared of his aunt.

"That's such a basic name. It's so ugly. I hate it. I hate him."

You didn't give your sister a chance to speak. "Forget it." You turned off the lampshade. "I don't want to talk to you anymore. I'm going to sleep."

You laid back down. Darkness enveloped the room. This was better. This way, you couldn't see the sadness in Jisoo’s face.

But you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned all night, but nothing worked.

It's my fault. You wanted to say. Jisoo got cancer because of you. That club was a rotten place. You should've stopped her from working there.

Lung cancer. What a bullshit thing to have.

"Don't die." A week ago, you were saying the complete opposite. "If you die, I'll chase you to hell. You can't die, Jisoo."

You still have debts to pay. I have not forgiven you yet. You have to suffer my eternal wrath, so do not die before me.

*** In Jisoo's 34th week of pregnancy, you had asked her another question.

"Why did you do it?"

Jisoo didn't need context. She knew exactly what you were talking about, but like before, you cut her off before she could explain.

"Never mind." You covered your face with a blanket and slept.

***

In Jisoo's 35th week of pregnancy, you pestered her again about chemotherapy.

"I told you already. It's harmful for Soobin."

"And I told you already, I don't care about Soobin." You rebutted.

This bedtime routine was tiring Jisoo. She felt like she was arguing with a wall.

"Good night," so she just turned off the lampshade and went to bed.

*** You asked about the betrayal again in Jisoo's 36th week of pregnancy.

"Are you sure you want to know now?" Jisoo's carefulness shot your heart.

You shook your head, your chest heaving.

"No," you admitted. "Never mind it."

***

Jisoo's 37th weeks pregnant when you panicked upon seeing her looking like she was in a lot of pain.

"What's the matter?" Your heart leaped to your throat. You were beside Jisoo at once.

Jisoo bit her lip and wiped the sweat on her forehead. "It's nothing. Your nephew's just being naughty. He keeps kicking my tummy."

Oh.

Your heartbeat returned to normal. And then you snorted and folded your arms across your chest. "Tell that scrub to shut his trap and quit being annoying."

You were about to return to your bed when Jisoo seized your wrist.

You flinched, but you didn't push her away.

It gave Jisoo the courage to push through her suggestion. She cleared her throat, "Why don't you pacify him yourself? He's quite obedient. Here, I'll guide you."

Jisoo slowly led your hand to her tummy. Your hand was stiff at first, almost resisting when you had contact with the skin of Jisoo's belly.

"Sshh, it's okay, dear." Jisoo's voice was like a lullaby. You relaxed at once.

It took you a while before you finally started caressing your sister's stomach without wanting to die.

And then you felt it.

"Oh!" Your eyes grew big. "He kicked me! Your kid kicked me!"

An involuntary chuckle came out of Jisoo. "Yes, he likes his aunt a lot."

"Hmp." You withdrew your hands. "Too bad I don't care about him."

Jisoo didn't react because, deep down, you were fooling no one.

***

You asked about the betrayal again in Jisoo's 38th week of pregnancy. Jisoo had learned her lesson, so she did not speak and pretended to be asleep.

***

You found the courage to be honest in Jisoo's 39th week of pregnancy.

"I take it back." You gripped your blanket. "Soobin isn't so bad. I think his name is cute."

Jisoo gasped, which had you worrying. You thought your sister was in pain again. These days, all she did was vomit blood.

However, Jisoo's gasp was because of plain surprise. She beamed at you, "Soobin just kicked me three times. He means to say he loves you."

"You're an idiot, and you know it." You clicked your tongue in disgust, "Tell your devil spawn I hate him."

Your words were harsh, but Jisoo knew your heart was melting.

Just a few more. Jisoo mused, mentally patting her baby's head. Your aunt’s gonna warm up to you soon, Bin-bin.

***

Jisoo was in her 40th week of pregnancy when she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

It took a while before you got out of the hospital because of Jisoo's worsening condition. Thankfully, you were there to look after Soobin.

"Welcome home, mon bébé," you secretly whispered when you finally got home.

Soobin cooed at you, and you wanted to cry.

You stopped calling Soobin the devil's spawn.

***

Jisoo's 3 weeks postpartum, and she was delirious.

"Jisoo-unnie, it's time for your medicine." You were sitting in your sister's bed with a glass of water in your hand.

"Honey water again...?" She blinked, eyes unfocused. She was hot to touch. "I don't want honey water. You make them too sweet."

"This is not honey water." You tried to make her drink, but Jisoo was stubborn.

She called your name. “My dear, please. You have to listen to me, alright? Hide in the closet. Don't answer even when mom calls for you. I will..." She cupped your cheek. "I will be back for you, okay?"

Postpartum was foreign to you, but you figured your sister was struggling.

"There's no need to hide. I'm not a five-year-old anymore, Jisoo-unnie."

It was the wrong thing to say because Jisoo scowled. She was unhappy, though she kept caressing your face.

"What are you saying? You'll always be my little girl."

***

Jisoo's 9 weeks postpartum when her mind cleared up. Regrettably, her body became weaker.

"You can't even carry your own baby," you taunted, peering down at your bedridden sister as you gently rocked Soobin in your arms.

Your nephew was so well-behaved.

"It's okay." Jisoo coughed. "Soobin has you."

"I'm not a babysitter." You jutted your chin, annoyed. "Hurry up and get better. I'm getting tired of—oh."

You weren't able to finish whatever you were saying. You couldn't even remember what you were trying to prove. All your thoughts vanished when Soobin wrapped his tiny hand around your pinky.

"Jisoo-unnie! Look! Look! He's holding me!" You stepped closer to Jisoo's bed, crouching down so your sister could see.

Jisoo forced out a smile. But that small action was taxing to her body. She coughed up blood again. She wiped it before you could see it.

"That's good. That's really, really good...."

***

Jisoo was 10 weeks postpartum, and she was still rotting in bed.

"You have to force yourself to get better," you demanded, a deep scowl on your lips. "Just look at your son. He clings to me a lot. Do you want him to recognize me as his mom?"

Your statement was meant to be threatening, but it made Jisoo happier.

"He is yours, dear." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She didn't have the energy to speak louder, but she could still smile. "He is meant to stay by your side."

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not cut out to be a parent. This is your mess. I was not there when you made him." I was against you making him. You hurt me.

Jisoo's forehead creased, though. She didn't agree with you. "But I made him for you."

What?

You couldn't believe your ears. If postpartum was this kind of bitch, then you were willing to fight it. It was making your Jisoo-unnie act crazy. She was full of shit.

"Soobin...stay...you..." And she was blabbering random words.

You touched her forehead. She was burning. Her fever was probably making her crazy.

"Next time, I'm bringing you to an asylum." Soobin slept soundly in his crib, so you had time to care for your sister. You put a wet towel on her forehead. "You're crazy, did you know that? Who would have thought a cute baby like Soobin came from a nasty girl like you?"

Jisoo's scowl deepened. She struggled and weakly caught your wrist. "No. Soobin looks like...me."

You glanced at Soobin's sleeping form. Yeah, right.

"Keep dreaming. It's free."

"No." Jisoo cried. It looked like she took your statement to heart. "He looks like me...he should look like me..."

Suddenly, Jisoo was crying. You were stunned. What was this drama queen crying for!?

"He looks like me. Please. He should remind me of you. I'm dying, I'm dying. I'm dying--!!"

Your eyes widened. Jisoo was out of control. She was sobbing and kicking her feet, albeit weakly.

"Jisoo-unnie, calm down." You held her hands, giving up. "I believe you, okay? Soobin looks like you."

She was easy to pacify. She stopped crying at once, and then she cupped your cheeks.

"My dear, my little one...I'm sorry, your Jisoo-unnie can't keep her promise to you. I'm going soon. Stay...stay with Soobin, alright?"

Jisoo slowly trailed off. The terrible realization slapped you in the face.

You were shaking, bile crawling to your throat when you connected the dots:

There was a high possibility that Jisoo, your sister, planned on sleeping with Jungkook so she could get pregnant. She wished to get pregnant because, after all this time, she still saw you as a little girl who needed someone by her side.

And since she was dying, she needed someone to...

You stopped thinking. You looked at Soobin's sleeping form and sobbed; your sister's words echoed in your mind:

Stay with Soobin. I made him for you.

Fuck.

***

In Jisoo's twisted way, what she did was for your sake. Unfortunately, you did not ask any of this.

Jisoo was 15 weeks postpartum. She was like a withered flower. No color was left on her face. Death was around the corner.

"Are you there, my dear?"

You did not answer. The question you didn't have an answer to entered your mind. You hadn't asked in a long time. Should you?

"Why did you betray me?" You asked it aloud before you could think properly. You thought Jisoo's too weak to answer, but she forced herself to speak.

"I was lonely. We were both lonely."

In the grand scheme of things, that explanation should have made sense. Lonely people sought comfort. You should be the first to understand that. But you didn't. It only brought you pain.

"I can't make you happy?" But you were her sister and Jungkook...Jungkook was your best friend. How could you not know that the people you loved were suffering? That they were lonely? Were you that...insensitive?

"It's not about you." Jisoo groaned. She was in a lot of pain. "You will never understand our grief. Your life is...a bliss."

The pain was unbearable. You wanted to cover your ears. You regretted asking that question, but you just couldn't stop.

"So you don't trust me? You don't think I'd understand you?" Did Jungkook think so too?

Jisoo didn't give a clear answer. She couldn't breathe. Her chest was stuffy.

Silence prevailed.

You stared blankly at Jisoo.

Jisoo struggled to maintain her breathing. She called your name.

"Have you forgiven me?"

It took you an eternity to respond, but your tone was biting when you did.

"You and Jungkook bonded over something you thought I was too immature to understand, so tell me, Jisoo-unnie, how can I forgive you?"

It meant to hurt. But Jisoo smiled through the pain.

She seemed...happy.

"Good…Good. Don't forgive me. I don't deserve it."

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Jisoo was barely awake.

"But leave Soobin...out of your...anger. That kid will love you. I swear, he will love you."

You had no plans to give Soobin away.

"I know...I am in no position to ask you anything, but...Jungkook...he must know about his son. He deserves that much, no--" She seemed to shake her head. "Soobin deserves that much....Promise me, in three..."

She paused. She was thinking....calculating...

"No four...four years...three years..." It was getting confusing. "Return him home in three years. Ugh."

Jisoo couldn't hold on.

She called your name. “ You and Soobin...you two are my life...I love you...I'll see..." you.

Jisoo didn't get to finish her last statement. She died, eyes clamped shut and blood splattering everywhere.

She died while her son slept, and you wept.

**** A/N: I wrote this for so many hours...this is not edited, I feel like I'm going to vomit if I read this chapter one more time. Imdeadtired.exe.

We will be back in the present in the next chapter.

← Previous Chapter (06) | Next Chapter (08) →

[threepandas]

Bad End: Preserve Us

You know how in conservation biology you sometimes try to introduce a pair to be mated and one will just... just fuckin' merc' the other? Just absolutely obliterate them in a hissing, growling, nightmare ball of fury? Before anyone can stop them? Territorial and (to put it lightly) "uninterested", dispite your desperate desire to save their species from extinction, and need for them to get frisky?

I know.

Holy SHIT do I know.

There's a lot of reasons. Ways you can (hopefully) get around it. But first? Is finding out WHY it happened. Was it just the one? The environment? Were they sick? Or... as is the case sometimes, did they decide their Handler was their mate? Some species only mate once. Are loyal for life. You gotta work around that.

Which is all well and fine and good.

When we're talking about ANIMALS.

Non-sentient, non-sapient animals! Not ALIEN SPECIES! What the ABSOLUTE FRESH HELL did they expect from me!? Compliance?! This was UNETHICAL! Monstrous! I had been trying to slip my gaurds long enough to radio for help SINCE I GOT HERE.

I hope the fuckers ROTTED in whatever their Gods considered a Hell.

"Conservation facility" my ENTIRE ASS. You can't run CONSERVATION EFFORTS like this on SENTIENTS. Eugenics loving, atrocity fetishizing, immoral BASTARDS!!! And they KNEW it too. They HAD too! Or they wouldn't be HIDING it! Fucking KIDNAPPING scientists! Biologists! Doctors!

I was on my ways to study Lekku monkeys!

God...

I'm? I'm so tired of being pissed.

Furious and outraged and SCARED. Horrified and sick. There are PEOPLE here. Kids! And I don't... oh god, I don't... H-How LONG has this been going ON? Why did no one NOTICE?

Every day I feel my heart break. The desire to scream and scream and never STOP, grow inside me. I have to get out. I have to get us ALL out. Get these people FREE. Do SOMETHING. But I am forced to "conserve" the species assigned to me. The group assigned to me.

It's killing my love for the field. Making a mockery of everything I worked for.

I don't... I don't think my hands will ever be clean again.

But I have to help. Do everything I can. Make hell a little kinder, if nothing else. At least while I figure out a way OUT. My group deserves better. The groups I do not work with, deserve better.

I disguise games as "testing". Pages and pages of meaningless numbers ans scores. INSIST that enrichment is the key to success. Diet is EVERYTHING. Oh, and habitat? Well unless we can mimic their habitat there's no WAY they'll "breed".

No, no, using machines would stress them out too much.

It's like you DONT want babies!

Who's the expert here? That's RIGHT! Dr. Cho, but FAILING her and like five other people? Me. And I know for a FACT they are pulling the same scam. We ALL fucking hate you. Dr. Cho has KIDS, you FUCKS. Hasn't seen her son in YEARS thanks to you bastards. He was engaged. She's probably missed his WEDDING thanks to you!

Getting distracted, spiraling again, gotta stop DOING that.

It wont help anyone.

But God, if my brain doesn't slowly feel like it's shorting out the longer I'm here. Stress is called the silent killer for a reason. Or what that something else? Fuck. I can't even look it up! Bastards cut us off from the galactic web. Full information blackout. Because of COURSE they did... can't risk us rightfully calling for help.

Getting the Feds involved to shut this hell pit of a black site DOWN. Or a "whatever it truely is" site. Because it sure as SHIT has nothing to do with conservational biology. Except maybe the abuse of it.

But that doesn't help me right now.

Focus, damn it!

The Yanderens. Old, absurdly rare, nearly extinct, with a home planet they'd reduced to uninhabitable wastelands millennia ago due too... something. No one knew what. There had definitely been fighting. It WAS documented they were excellent fighters. Ruthless ones at that. But it was ALSO documented they strongly pack bonded.

There had been a lot of strongly worded warnings on what few documation my captures were able to find, translate, then shove at me. But honestly? They said the same thing about humans. Ooooh big scary persistent hunters~ oh nooooo! Watch out for the omnivores with a history of war! Sins of the father and we are defined by our diets! Class systems! Let's all JUDGE each ooooootheeeeer~!

Yeah, no. Not buying it.

Especially when the "warnings" were so damn vague and poorly documented. All "the HORRORS!" and "we barely SURVIVED!". Cause honestly? The Yanderens I was watching over? Easily the most mild and temperate individuals I had ever met. No tantrums from the kids, no big emotional meltdowns, just curiosity and at WORST? Mild frustration.

It made everything ten thousand times worse for me, that these poor people were in this hellish place. They were calm. Curious. Meant for greater, BETTER things! They should be out, playing and learning. Exploring and enjoying peaceful strolls in some art gallery or zen garden somewhere! Not... not this sterile fucking LAB.

But then M-17 loses his SHIT.

And now I'm kinda panicking. Because F-6 is not just dead, God rest her soul (she didn't deserve this. Oh god. She was so SWEET.), but M-17 might just be too, soon. If I can't find out what HAPPENED. Because if he's "feral" or "diseased" or whatever other horrifying terminology they end up using? They DO something about it.

And I can't actually stop them.

I... I don't know if it was a trauma response. Or I did something wrong. I could PROBABLY pass it off as my needing more studies into their observed "mating habits"? That... that I somehow... turned it... uuuuh... dominance battle? Shit. Where are my notes?!

F-6 is DEAD and its all my fault.

She was such a cuddle fiend too. Always excited to hear about my studies, from before. My life. Wanted to join me after we got out of here. I never should have let her volunteer. Granted, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Wanted to spend the pregnancy plotting our escape. Asked me to help raise the kid once we got out. Had a whole grand plan. But I...And I...

God...

I should have said NO. Insisted. It was just so hard, when F-6 had made it all sound like it would be okay. Like she had a plan and all I need to do was trust her. Believe in her. Then we could be free.

I had hoped M-17 would work best. He was always the most agreeable and quick on the uptake. I figured... well... ha ha. God, I'm such an IDIOT. I should have CHECKED. Who KNOWS what happened before I arrived? What triggered I just accidentally rammed my foot into? FUCK! I sweep everything from me desk onto the ground. Don't give I shit that I'll have to clean it up later,

I had figured M-17 would be COOL with it.

This place is getting to me, isn't it?

Why the FUCK would anyone be COOL with getting jumped? Bred like an animal? Shoved in some random ass room, with a vaguely familiar stranger, and told "now fuck. We want a literal litter from you two"? All while some biologist watchs and makes god damned NOTES!?

Of course he fought back. OF COURSE he didn't stop!

The only one there he could trust was himself.

I...I'm becoming a monster... aren't I?

Oh god.

At least we're in the satellite facility. The gaurds are definitely going to rat me out, but the news will take time to filter back. And... and the Yanderens being so "dangerous" might work in my favor. I... I can spin this. I HAVE to spin this. I can't let TWO people die for my fuck up.

I promised myself I would get as many people out as I could. I refuse to back out now. Even if that means crying, puking, then going out there to lie my ASS off. This was TOTALLY NORMAL. In fact, expected! Yep! It means that's we've determined that M-17 is the alpha Yanderen! A thing that is both REAL and possible to BE!

I rinse my mouth, stomach empty. Crying has exhausted me. But I can't give up. Too many lives count on me now. I... I wish so badly I was just a nobody again. Just some random biology student, trying to make a name for herself. Being "important" is a CURSE.

I try not to chug my water as I half stumble out of the glorified shoebox that is my bathroom into the much larger and Fancier CLOSET that is my room. Truely, no expense spared, for the captives they ripped away from their lives. So glad I am here willingly and of my own volition.

I gather myself. Finally ready to go and try to untangle the mess I have made of everything. When a deep booming alarm rattles my bones. The lights flickering to red. Blast doors slide down, SLAM shut over the transparent recessed bit of wall that counts as my window, the door to the rest of the facility.

Trapping me inside my small room.

Almost immediately after, an EXPLOSION rocks the world hard enough to knock me from my feet. Only the bed's limited padding keeping me from a nasty concussion. The edge of it still ramming painfully into my shoulder. Another explosion. Then another. I sit for a long, terrible, second stunned.

The moment passes.

I scramble on my hands and knees for the in facility communication device that I had knocked from my desk in anger, grief. Not daring to stand lest I be thrown down again. I manage to find it as the world shakes again for the fifth time. Followed by what sounds like gun fire out in the halls.

I fling myself back towards my shitty little bunk. Drag every bit of padding and protection I can, down and under it with me. If the roof goes? I want shock absorption. If shots get through the door? I want something to slow those blasts down. Anything. ANYTHING! To increase my fucked chances of surviving.

I burrito up and wriggle back as deep as I can. The world muffled but ending just outside my crawlspace. Then I desperately try to get one of the others on the line. I got nothing but chaos. Running. Running. Hiding. And Dead.

Dead. Dying.

Remember me.

And GONE.

Some of them fighting with their groups too freedom. Some being targeted right along side their captors. Others savaged by the ACTUAL animals they had been working with, the one's Galacticly deemed too dangerous for effort like this. Someone or something had set EVERYONE free. A simultaneous attack on all fronts that our captors could not put down or escape.

The Yanderens were out there.

Oh god. Please let them be okay. They wer-

My thoughts ground to a halt as M-32 LAUNCHED his tiny body onto the screen of one of the security feeds I was desperately looking through. F-6 had figured out how to get us a backdoor to them a long time ago. M-32 was just a kid. A small, soft, cuddly little thing that loved to lean against me and crawl into my lap. All cherubic cheeks and cute little curls. Shy!

Yet I watched... in mounting horror... as like a lion on some unfortunate animal, he landed on a gaurds back. Small arms going around his body in a mockery of a hug. Head tilting so he could BITE at the back of the man's neck, small hands clawing and ripping at weak points in his armor, as he screamed. Thrashed. Tried desperately to get M-32 OFF of him.

There was so much blood.

My hands were shaking. So much, I accidentally hit the next screen button. Jerked my thumb back. But... but oh god. There was F-26. Using the butt of a rifle to slam down against the head of a scientist. Again and again and again. Long after the begging and thrashing stopped. I flipped again. M-4? No... please not M-4. Not the soft spoken and wise...

I watched as he grinned, a cold thing, and shot out another joint. His foot on the chest of the head scientist who had moved him to a different group. In the background, his supervisor lay dead. They had not died quickly. The head scientist was begging. A mess of tears and pain. M-4 shot another joint, pressing his foot down harder.

I wanted to be sick.

I flipped again. And again. And AGAIN.

H...Had I known them at ALL? Like demons wearing the faces of those I'd known. People I'd trusted. Not a SINGLE ONE was... oh... oh god. F-6. Had she been too? Would I have ever known? Was THIS what all those warnings meant? I couldn't think. Couldn't breath. Had... Had never had a panic attack but... BUT-!

I wheezed.

Shook.

"Oh, Clever giiiirl~" A familiar voice sang, before a blood splattered face flickered into being on the screen in my hands. "Where aaaare yoooou~?"

M-17. He'd somehow managed to take over the security cameras. That or the communication feed. His eyes were bright. A grin on his face like I'd never seen from him. ALIVE in a way I'd never seen him. The excitement transformed his face. No longer softly doll like, but something DANGEROUS. Unhinged. His eyes dilated and deadly teeth on display.

"Come out, come out wherever you aaaare~. I have so much to TELL you! We have so much to DO! I'm going to make you MINE sweetheart! No one else can have you. So come out. I won't hurt you much, I promise! Just gotta make you mine then we can leave okay~?"

Furious snarls echoed through the halls. Male and female alike. Old and young. I... I recognized each of those voices. What was HAPPENING?

"Aaaah? Did you TRASH really think you DESERVED her? Ha! Please." M-17 grin was cruel. Mocking. "You don't have a chance in hell of taking what's MINE."

His eyes seems to shift away from unseen enemies and back, somehow, to me. Warming to something euphoric. Resting his head on his hand as if to consider me. His fingers spread, stroking his own face, as if the desire to TOUCH was simply too great. As if what he was imagining was bleeding over into the real world.

"Oh clever girl~ my clever, clever girl~♡ I can't wait til it's just you and ME. Start think of where you want to go first, okay? We're going to get married. Have that child you wanted me for. All the things you ever dreamed~♡ I'm going to have you all to myself. No more annoying others. Ah~ can't wait to find you soon!"

"But first?"

"May the best of us Win."

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Consequences Part 1

Author's note: This is some more of a snippet thing, than an actual chapter. @kit-williams and I were talking about the Consequences of the soul mate au. And how- due to time shenanigans, sometimes two copies of the same soul can be on Terra at the same time. Among other things. Like how some people have 'broken' soul timers.

Summary: Of consequences of timers that don't tick. And Reincarnation.

Warning: uuhh.. Angst? Let me know if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

You stormed out of his apartment. He had simply said the reason for his cheating was just "she's my soulmate!"

“I hope you get the Karma you deserve!” You shout at him. Tears in your eyes as you sob, broken heartedly. 

You had grabbed everything that you owned and put it into your pair of rolling suitcases and stuffed it into your car. You had managed to grab everything important, medications, clothes, and other things that you had left at his apartment as you had lived with him at his apartment part of the time for several years.

You are glad that most of your clothes and important stuff was still at your apartment, he had been pestering you to move in with him. You are glad, now, that you hadn’t moved in with him. Gods, that would make this much harder if you had to pack up everything.

Especially as he had been trying to take you shit from your hands as you took what was yours. You had glared at him and warned him that you’d call the police- or your older sister who has met her soul mate- a Chaos Night Lord who’d be happy to help out. At least, if your sister sweetly asked him to.

Despite needing to go back to your apartment. In the head space you are in- and the shitty weather, you were more likely to crash your car than get anywhere safe. So you lock your car after putting in your stuff and go for a walk to calm down.

God, how many times had you heard that excuse from previous partners? Just because your partner had found their soul mate didn’t mean they could cheat on their current partner! Or he could have done the right thing, and broke up with you.

Or he could have told you he had found his soul mate and met them. But no, he had decided to cheat, like the bastard he apparently is. You curse yourself for being a blind fool. It wasn't your fault your timer was broken. 

You have a suspicion that his bitch of a soul mate knew he had a partner outside of soul mate bonds and didn’t care that he was a cheater. You scoff, cheaters, will always cheat. No matter who it’s with. You wish the bastard and his soul mate the best of life together. May they rot in hell forever.

You just sit and cry on the bench not caring about the rain. How many partners have gotten with you to only find their soulmate not long after?

It wasn't fair. You hear the churring of an Astartes as the rain is suddenly no longer hitting you. The malformed wing covers you from the rain.

The chaos marine feels his hearts sing... He's found them! Her timer wasn't broken... He just lives so much longer than her. You stare up at him, eyes wide.

You feel it- the bond of soul mates. You reach out- hesitantly pausing as you want to hold his hand. He reaches out and grabs your hand. You hear a rumbling purring sound.

It is coming from the Chaos Marine who’s covering you from the rain with his wing. He gently tugs you into his arms. You don’t resist. Happy. Finally happy.

At least you have found your soulmate. Now you know why it always seemed to be broken. You had heard that Space Marines can live a long time.

They can pop up out of nowhere- how they had just appeared out of nowhere one day. There is so much that you and humanity doesn’t know about Space Marines… but at least you’ll be able to figure some things out… after all. You had just met your soulmate, who is one.

[instarsandcrime]

Tuned Out

Oh gosh it's been uh. Almost a month since I've written something??? Well, I hope you enjoy this one! I loved the idea of a sick L/uc/ifer spiraling, and being broken out of it by A/la/stor's radio show because I'm weak to the idea-- though it can be interpreted as both platonic and Ra//di//o//A//pple.

And here's a quick heads-up: Though this is still the usual fluffy fic, the spiral paragraph itself is a bit rough. So I'm going to put a trigger warning below and in the summary when I add this fic to the list. If intrusive thoughts and vague thoughts of self-harm are too much, please skip the italicized second paragraph. You can still read the fic without needing to include this part, so don't feel ANY pressure to do so if you aren't/will never be ready. Please, pleeeassseee take care of yourselves!

Otherwise, enjoy!

TW: Intrusive thoughts, vague thoughts of self-harm

---

Burning. His skin felt like it was burning him alive. That was the only sensation Lucifer could feel. His tired eyes stared up at the canopy of his bed, face glowing softly with fever. Its flush spread gold across the embedded pearls above, making them sparkle like stars. He sighed, crackling sparks floating from his lips as thoughts poked and prodded at his overheated mind.

Fuck. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? Can’t move, can’t get up, can’t get a glass of water, eat dinner, call Charlie– call. Charlie? Oh, poor Charlie. She must be so disappointed in him. He chuckled weakly, What would she even say to him that she hasn’t already thought? He could imagine it. He really could. ‘Seriously, Lucifer?! I literally meant nothing to you for years and now suddenly you waltz into my life? And instead of actually spending time with me, you’re calling from a room that could’ve gone to someone who truly needed it, ordering me to wait on you hand and foot like I’m your butler? Like our entire relationship meant nothing? You threw me away, and now you’re going to do it again?! You know what? You deserve this! You deserve to rot in your bed! Get as starving and sick as you want! At least now the inside will match the outside! You’re terrible! I hate you! No. No, you know what? I wish you got your second shot at Heaven. I wish you had at least a week of laughter, fun, and fucking fireworks so they could tear off your wings andyoucanFallalloveragai–’

A burst of static pierced the air, shattering the constricting spiral just before it could break him again– and replaced it with a new form of dread.

“Why hello there all you wayward sinners! Welcome once again to tonight’s show with your host: The Radio Demon!”

“Uuugh!” Lucifer groaned dramatically, snatching one of his many pillows to press over his head. 

Right. The stupid fucking radio. From under the shadows, the sickly demon couldn't help but glare daggers at the piece of junk resting on his nightstand. Alastor had requested those old, outdated mortal inventions for every hotel room– specifically from the 1920’s era because apparently he preferred style and substance. Whatever that meant. 

Regardless. He insisted that it was needed for announcements, communication, and entertainment. In other words– somewhere, somehow, Alastor was currently studying him and him alone with invisible eyes. Surgically scanning him at the seams for the slightest rip. The slightest tear. As if his prey wasn't the most powerful being here. Dramatic bastard.

“And how are you doing this fine evening, Your Majesty?” The radio sung.

“Go away.” The lump of fluff grumbled.

"Of course not! It is my duty as your hotelier to take note of every little detail of my building, no matter how tiny and insignificant. And I am ever-so-glad I have! It is quite the rare sight to watch our King of Hell lose face to a simple case of the sniffles. Truly a headline for the ages!"

An angry red blush painted over the king’s golden cheeks, immediately pushing himself upright. Towering wings puffed, pillows and blankets tossed about the bed as he went. "Now see here! Sinners get sick. Overlords get sick. Hell, Charlie and Lilith can get sick! Me? I’m just rehhh…Snff! Ugh, resti'g…"

"Resting. Of course. I suppose I will believe you for convenience’s sake--"

"Hhheh…! Het'shiew!"

"--oh! Bless you."

"Het'shhhiew!"

"Bless y--"

"Hep'shhhh! 'Etshhh! 'Tshhh! 'Tshhh-'tshh-'tch! ...HhhhehhHH...! HEH'TSSHHHIEW!"

"My goodness, bless! You sound absolutely miserable. Shall I fetch you a glass of water? Or another blanket, perhaps?"

"Nhhh– no." Lucifer protested between hitching breaths, conjuring a handkerchief with the flick of the wrist, "N-no thahhh...hhhah! Hhhh...”

He finally lowered the cloth when the tickle finally fizzled out, heaving a sigh of relief. “Ndo thadk you. Snff!" He took a deep breath before letting loose a mucky blow into the fabric, "It's fine. I'm fine."

A pause. "Ah."

"What? What is it now?"

"Oh nothing, nothing! I’ll let you get back to your rest. But before I go, could I mention one more thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s just. Well, I had my first impressions, but I assumed that the King of Hell wouldn't be so cowardly."

"Cowardly?!" Lucifer repeated incredulously, spitting a plume of smoke.

"I see your hearing is as sharp as your wit."

"I'll show you cowardly you…y-you…hhh-!" The demon’s nose twitched desperately, and he cursed between hitching gasps as it tried again and again to just get. The damned itch. Out.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that."

"You…you self-important…hehhh…p-pompous…!" 

"How flattering of you to notice my worth! And would you believe it? You're absolutely right! I am the fundraiser for this humble project, after all. The guide for these poor, misguided souls. Ones such as yourself."

"Oh, please! We both know you’re...you're no behhh...better than…hhhH–!" Lucifer's handkerchief raised to his face.

"Trying to use your infamous silver tongue through a sneeze? My word! Charlie had told me you were stubborn. But this?"

"Eshhh! Et'SCHHH! HEH'ETSCHH'HHHIEW!" He quickly twisted his head away to let loose a breath of flame, barely singeing the well-abused cloth.

"Poor, poor Lucifer Morningstar.” Alastor teased, his voice as soft and careful as a snake in the grass. The smattering of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, circling the bed. “Always choosing your own heavenly guilt over the needs of everyone else."

"HEH'ESCHH'HHHIU! Hehh! Hhh…hghh…"

"Which is a shame, considering the ill resident who requires attention. Trapped in their own feverish mind. Alone while their partner is away. Unable to move or think or even ask for help properly. But I’m sure you wouldn’t know how it feels for them, considering how indestructible you are."

"...There is?" Lucifer finally croaked, cringing to himself at another gurgling nose blow.

"Of course! While you were hiding in your room with your wings tucked between your legs, I'm afraid you've missed someone very important. Someone close to you."

Lucifer froze. He didn't mean.

"Mmm. Let's see." As the radio host thought stubby knobs spun on their own, playing flickers of songs diluted by time. "Rosy cheeks. Blonde hair. Red eyes that sparkle so damn brightly one could go blind."

Oh no.

"Puffy bow tie. Black fingernails."

Did. Did he get his little girl sick? Please, please don't let that be the case.

"The most spell-binding singing voice."

He thought back to breakfast. How Charlie had eaten less than normal. How she sniffled once or twice at the table. Wait, did her face look pale? Maybe the light didn’t catch it?

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

"Wh-where is she-- they, um! That. Resident right now?"

"Oh, performing the usual suffering patient routine. Lying in bed. Being miserable. Quite adament about sleeping the bug off. Reminds me of the ol’ picture books that star wealthy socialites and their sickly Victorian children. The ones who die due to their parents' neglect and mistreatment."

"I could help her." The fallen angel mumbled anxiously as he pushed himself upright. "I could help her right– …now..." 

The second he dared to stand he nearly fainted, stumbling dizzily to grab the bedpost for support. From beneath a small string of black tentacles sprouted from the ground, nudging him back into place and under the covers as The Radio Demon tutted disapprovingly. 

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can't partake in the complex act of resting, then what good are you to our dear, sweet Charlie?"

"Shut. Up." Lucifer hissed, "I am a grown adult--"

"--debatable--"

"--and I choose what to do with my free time! And it's my jo-- koff koff! j-job to help my daughter when she needs it!" A shaky finger waved at all six radios. Or were there seven?

"To be quite honest Sire, I would prefer to do my tasks without your meddling. Actually, I would prefer not to perceive your existence at all, thank you very much. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless you'd rather call her yourself. But I know you won't." A mocking tone laced with static, “You c̴̨̮͊o̶̗̤̿ẇ̷̙á̴̼̖ȑ̶͉̕d̶̙͚͗̕.”

“I– wh–” Lucifer laughed in sheer disbelief, snatching up his phone. “Y-you’re– you’re joking, right? I’m not some– some godforsaken hermit!"

"Then by all means, prove it."

"I am!"

“I’m waiting."

"Oh, I’ll do it! I’ll do such a good call. It’ll be the– snff! goodest caller you’ve ever seen.” The King of Hell pouted like a child as he moved his claws.

“Ugh. Lord knows how he’ll act if he gets worse.” The radio mumbled quietly.

“Whassat?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty! I forgot that your company as of late are less of the civilized and more the rubber duck variety.”

"Of all the– if you weren't stuck to Charlie like a parasite I would take the sharpest end of my tail and shove it up your--"

Click!

"Dad?" A voice croaked.

"Charlie!" Lucifer's venom turned saccharine sweet, flipping on a dime. "Hey! Hi! H-how are ya, sweetie?"

"Mmrgh...what time is it?"

"It's. Um. Evening…time? Look, that doesn't matter right now. Are you feeling alright, kiddo?"

"Am I feeling alright?" His patient echoed sleepily.

"Yeah! I uh. IIIII just wanted to check in. See if you were okay." 

"Oh. Um, I'm okay." A bit of rustling and a pause. "Are you okay?"

"Snff! Me?"

"Yes, you! You looked so tired at breakfast this morning, a-and you didn’t eat anything which never happens! And you were kinda glowing? It kinda seemed bad but I didn’t want to ask because maybe it was a personal thing and– wait, your voice is…are you crying?!" Rustling turned into the shuffle of pacing slippers.

"What? No! Nonononono! I just--" Lucifer froze, feeling another itch start to build, handkerchief nowhere to be found under the sea of fabric. "Jhhh-just excuse mbe for– snff! For a seggond. Keebp t-talki’g…!"

He quickly pressed his hand against the speaker, stifling into his shoulder until the scratchy wool felt damp. "Hh'ntt! Hh’ngk! Hhh’TCH! ‘TCH! Hhhhh...HT'CHNXT'hiew! Guhh..."

"Sure. A-anyway, you called me pretty early in the morning and after all that and this. Soooo…is there anything I can do to help?"

Desperate claws scrambled to craft a new handkerchief and wipe his streaming face. "N-no! No, no-- snff! absolutely not! Worry about yourself Char-Char, I'm fi--....f-fihh...!"

Hang up, pinch your nose shut, do anything but--

"HET'SHHH'HIEW!" Lucifer doubled over.

–sneeze.

"Oh geez, that sounded terrible!” Charlie gasped, “Is that why you've been in your room all day? Are you sick?"

A sudden, very obvious realization hit him. Silently the fallen king sunk into his mattress, wishing he could be swallowed by his comforter. His cheeks burned. The familiar description. The taunting. 

“Can I. Call you back, Stardust?” 

“What? Whoa, whoa, wait, we’re not finished here–” With a final monotone beep, the call ended.

"You.” Lucifer clenched his fangs.

“Yes?” Alastor hummed non-chalantly. “YOU.”

“Gracious! No need to shout. Even The Devil Himself should know that a sickly patient musn’t raise his voice, lest it get worse than it already is!”

“Watch your back, bellhop. Next time I see you, no ring of Hell will compare to what I-- koff! I’ll–" The threat died with a wheeze, breaking into another ill-timed fit.

"And that's all for tonight, folks!" The radio suddenly hopped back to life, "Tomorrow's show may be a little dicey schedule wise, as our guest star is feeling quite unwell. Will he finally exit his literal and proverbial cave of sorrows for once in his miserable life? Or, much like his saintly past, will pride once again be his downfall--"

"Dad! Are you– eep!"

Charlie's entrance was suddenly interrupted when a black fist rained down on the damned noise box, breaking in a fit of bouncing springs and wooden splinters. The room stilled until a meek, nervous chuckle finally broke the spell.

"Charlie, dear?"

"Y…yeah?"

"Um. Could. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?"

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 55 - Love Shack

Y'all get caught in the rain. Oh look! A barn!

On AO3.

You sleep like the dead. Don’t even remember conking out. Just the part where you wake up to the scent of woodsmoke, tea, and sausages.

Whatever high you were on yesterday is faded. You feel wrecked. Physically, mentally, like you got hit by a bus, dragged along for a mile, and then run through a meat grinder and repackaged into a human shape again.

The sausages don’t look all that appealing.

You sip tea as the others finish eating and packing. Thick clouds fly overhead, edging silver in the sunlight. Must be some strong winds up there. Hopefully, it don’t start to rain.

There ain’t much critters around. Occasional squirrel. The caw of a crow. But the rest is weirdly silent. Or maybe not so weird as the wind shifts and the rot and piss stink of the town washes over y’all.

The goblin camp is about an hour north, Mr. Eloquent said. You’ll have to track back through that village to get to the road.

“I don’t like the look of those clouds,” Gale says.

And if he don’t turn out to be right. Y’all’ve crossed about halfway through the rest of the village when the wind gusts moisture onto your face. Then the first drops fall. You get to hope for about thirty seconds that’s all it’s gonna do.

Then the sky opens and it dumps.

“Ah shit” you say.

“We need to find shelter,” Wyll says. “Storms like this will pass swiftly, but it’ll soak us through in moments.”

Karlach, sizzling as the rain hits her and immediately bursts into steam, lifts her arms and spins in a circle. “Rain! I haven’t seen proper rain in ages! Look! It’s not even blood!”

…huh.

The houses here are all half-collapsed, with no clear way inside. The lot of you jog up the hill, and spot some low building. A shack or a barn. It looks structurally sound.

“That one?” you say.

“That should do,” Wyll says.

Y’all boot-scoot over. The torrent gets worse. Turns the air silver. Water already streams down your face and you sputter to clear your mouth and nose.

The rush of it is so loud, you don’t even notice the sounds until you’re reaching for the doors. A low moaning, like some kinda cow or buffalo lowing for food.

“Did somebody leave their animals—”

Then there’s rhythmic grunting. Too low and…and too snarly to be human, but there’s some kinda words in there and the other…animal? It moans again. Cause that is a moan and your brain finally puts two and two together and sticks the solution into the square hole.

You step back.

“What’s wrong?” Gale says. He has to raise his voice to be heard over the din of the storm.

“Um,” you say.

Something thumps and bangs.

“Go on then,” Astarion’s voice right beside you. You do not jump. He stands a foot away, peering intently at that door. Fucker knows what’s going on in there. “We’re all getting soaked, dear. What are you waiting for?”

Bastard. He makes no move, offers no guidance; just stands there, arms crossed, looking bored.

The rain is cold.

“Fuck,” you say. Brace yourself. Push on them doors.

The scene will haunt you.

An ogre (ogress?) kneels on all floors, flopping tits bare, grass skirt hiked up over her hips. Behind her, some kinda man-wolf thrusts away. They both spot you and Man-Wolf pulls out, covering himself. But not before you get an accidental eyeful.

“Ah!” Gale all but yelps in horror.

“No,” Karlach says.

Shadowheart looks like she just accidentally swallowed a bug.

But Astarion, the fucking shithead, grins like the douchebag he is.

“What…what the hells are you doing here?!” Man-Wolf says, still overing himself. You don’t see no pants anywhere.

It’s not the floppy tits or the sex that gets you. Logically, ogres don’t just sprout out of the ground like cabbages, and sex always looks weird and super undignified to you. But the glimpse you saw of Man-Wolf showed what you assume is an average-sized, humanoid cock. Nothing like, abnormal about it. But that ogress is the height of the barn. And your brain, always the asshole, shoves its way to the front of the line to cut off common sense.

“How does that even work?” you say.

“What the fuck?” Man-Wolf says.

“The, you know, size discrepancy? How’re you even…does she even notice?” You really should stop talking. Ogress scowls and Man-Wolf has real big fangs. But the horror twines around with your scientific curiosity, and all you can think about is how a vet has to shove their whole arm up a cow to do like, bovine ultrasound. Man-Wolf wasn’t arm-sized.

“Ain’t you too small?” you say.

Astarion sputters and spins away.

“I think I’ll wait out in the rain,” Shadowheart says.

“I—you!” Man-Wolf sputters.

“Gragh!” the ogress bellows, and yeah, that’s why you shoulda kept your mouth shut. She glares down at you as she hauls herself up. “Moment over! Passion ruined!”

There’s something underneath her. A splash of color. That’s clothes. That’s a fresh corpse.

“Uh,” Karlach says as the ogress looms over y’all.

Only the big girl don’t lift a foot to squash your guts outta your mouth like a tube of toothpaste. She turns to Man-Wolf. “We go.”

“But, my sweet—” he says. Still don’t got his pants nowhere.

“We go.”

And ogress lumbers right off into the rain, tits swaying, just as the downpour eases up.

Man-Wolf’s ears pin back. He throws you a nasty glare and scurries out after his paramour.

Leaving all you in the barn, which smells weirdly musty.

“That…really happened,” Wyll say. “I’m not hallucinating?”

Astarion, curled into a ball, wheezes.

“I very much wish it were,” Gale says and rubs his eyes.

You stare out after the couple. Ruin a hand down your face. “How does that even work?” Notice the others staring at you. “What?”

“That’s what you’re focused on?” Shadowheart says.

“They’re two entirely different species! They shouldn’t even be compatible! It’d be like…like a dog trying to mount a heifer!”

Karlach actually grimaces. “There’s a visual I didn’t need. Thanks, soldier.”

“But it don’t make sense. You can breed a donkey and a horse because they’re similar enough, but…I mean…that? Is that a thing here?”

Lae’zel ignores the whole conversation to go search the corpse the two were literally fucking over (gross).

“Like,” you say. Your gaze lands on Astarion as he stands and wipes his eyes. “Elves exist, and so do humans, so do y’all have half-and-halves?”

“I’m a half-elf,” Shadowheart says. And oh. Her ears are shorter than Astarion’s. You never really made that connection, huh?

“But that means both species are genetically compatible. And, you know, physically. Is everything here like that? Because that’s fucking weird, y’all. That’d indicate a common ancestor way, way far back, which’d actually make them two closer to a pig mounting a bear—”

Gale claps your shoulder with one hand. And with a pain-filled grimace, says, “While I always appreciate the pursuit of knowledge, even I believe there are limits.”

And…they all look a bit green around the gills.

And you realize it ain’t about the evolutionary or sociological implications of inter-species fucking. You squint. “Are y’all seriously having a collective tizzy cause you saw them fucking?”

Wyll looks like he bit into a lemon.

“You’re not?” Karlach says.

You ain’t never had sex with someone else. You was raised to think that the literal worst thing somebody could do, the filthiest thing somebody could be. It made you disgusting, made you worthless. Then you got to the secular world and learned that not having sex made you a cringey weirdo.

So to spite the both of them, you learned about it. You learned all about it, because fuck the shame, fuck the farmstead, and fuck everybody (but not literally).

They got no idea how funny this conversation is for you. So it’s with a little bit of bravado, a lot a bit of truth, and a dash of gremlin in you that says, “No? It’s just sex?”

“I…think I’ll check the outer perimeter,” Wyll says. And leaves.

You survey the field—Shadowheart and Gale all uneasy, Lae’zel snooping through barrels, and Karlach wincing.

Ha.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion clears his throat and tugs his poofy shirt vest down.

You made the man outright wheeze. Your mouth opens, so ready to fall back into the banter of days before. God, it would be so easy to riff off him. He ain’t bothered by the whole display y’all walked in on, and he’d absolutely join you in horrifying the others.

But y’all are keeping distance, ain’t you? You got the keep the walls up. You can’t go around encouraging him. You got to suffocate that ember before it flames, for his sake and yours.

So you only give him a nod, and turn to the others. “Let’s get outta the fuck barn, huh?”

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[justlarkin]

Ive been reading so many aus and now request that you contribute to my brain rot good sir

Hmm, the only AU situation I've put some thought into is that Sandayu sitcom dad shitpost.

Okay, so all five of them show up in Tokyo together with their usual case of amnesia and are like "dunno what tf is going on, but we all have the same stars on our hands, so let's stick together ig". None of them remember their names so MC2 takes it upon herself to give everyone nicknames to go by based on their features: Itsy Bitsy, Beauty (It's not narcissism if it's true!), Titan, Lanky, and [REDACTED] (Just call him R). Everything resumes the same with them going to Shinjuku, being taken into Mononobe's care, him disappearing, and Sandayu hoping in under Smoky God's employment. Problem is that they're like SUPER difficult to deal with after Mononobe left because they're hurt about being abandoned by their "dad", so he has to try really hard to worm his way in and earn their trust, resulting in shenanigans.

-Itsy outwardly seems cutesy and agreeable, but in reality is the Devil incarnate. They love attention and playing games, using their small, unassuming appearance to drag unfortunate bastards into playing with them until all their energy is drained out of them. Anyone who tries to leave them before they're okay with it, won't be shown any mercy. Absolute Hell will be unleashed upon them, which Sandayu finds out the hard way. The other four don't get sucked into their drama because they already know the trick to dealing with them. R is the most resistant to their games, but everyone knows he secretly has a soft spot for them, which is why they have matching nam- *bonked unconscious by stray sword flying through air* It's hard to tell how they feel about Mononobe because they flip between hatred and grief when he's mentioned.

-Beauty is sociable and wants to do fun teen things like hanging out with friends, sneaking out late, going on adventures, and cyberbullying minors. You can usually find her surrounded by people and being the center of attention. Also, she not-so-secretly likes seeing drama go down and will ignite it from a distance, but most people don't notice this trait and like her regardless. She ultimately ignores Sandayu's existence and attempts to engage with her, even if he's right in front of her, and insists that Mononobe will be back any day now.

-Titan is friendly, helpful, and the protective one of the group. Too helpful. He rarely shows up to class or does his work and his grades are tanking because he will drop everything and go assist someone as soon as they call for him. It's not an exaggeration. Once he recieved a call from Andvari during class, saying that he needs someone to cover a shift at his resort ASAP, and Titan immediately jumped out of the window and ran there because "Andvari needed him now and taking the stairs was a waste of time". He's actually kind and cordial with Sandayu, but he's like that with everyone. He won't show it, but he's exhausted and just wants a break. That won't happen though. Secretly, he feels responsible for Mononobe leaving since he thinks taking care of five kids on his own while working must've been too much for him and that if he proves that he can bare some of that load, Mononobe will return.

-Lanky is mopey, tired, and an airhead. He typically forgets to change into his school uniform, sleeps through class and practically everywhere else, and is always daydreaming when he's not. It's easy to drag them along on adventures and drama because he doesn't have a strong opinion on much. They have a "everyone is my pillow" mentality, which the other four don't seem to mind. Lanky is mostly indifferent towards Sandayu, but wishes he'd stop interrupting their naps. He usually doesn't talk about Mononobe, only contibuting a furrowed brow and frown, but on their off-days, he will cry over the slightest reminder of him.

-[REDACTED] doesn't like his nickname and finds it embarrassing, so he chose to shorten it to R. Nobody knows his real name besides the other four and Mononobe since every mention of it has been hidden and he will beat anyone who goes digging for it with the blunt end of his sword. Overall, he's the most normal and easiest to deal with of the group. He's mostly reserved and occasionally snarky, doesn't cause problems at school unless his "siblings" drag him into it, and he acts like any other teen. He has accepted that Mononobe is gone and doesn't cause Sandayu any grief over that specifically, but he doesn't trust him because he suspects that he has dishonest intentions in getting close to him and the others (he does). R won't show it often, but he cares deeply for the others and wants to protect them from getting burned by someone like Mononobe again.

They all love each other while Sandayu is going through it and getting his ass kicked.

[fallout-vault0144]

A General, her Dog and her Sword

.

I once heard rumors of a Minuteman General lady who once singlehandedly fought against an entire group of feral ghouls all by her lonesome. With just a single dog & a revolutionary blade. See longtime back a group of ferals was attacking a harmless settlement of tribals who were minding their business. That is until this feral ghoul as big as a car comes out of nowhere & was leading a whole pack of other ferals. Luckily for them one of the generals of the Minutemen came to their aid, along with her loyal canine. And told their chieftain that she would handle these ghouls for them. She asked for no payment and insisted she go alone with just her trusty dog.

.

I know sounds crazy right? Random bitch with a pooch comes out of the freaking blue, wearing blue Minutemen colors no less, taking on a whole pack. Yeah well...fuck you it happened anyway.

.

So here she is heading to a Bad Area full of these rotting bastards. And uses her trusty lazer musket to try and snipe the ferals' leader. What she didn't know was this unusual giant ghoul was way too clever for a feral. And somehow seen her coming a mile away. All pissed off, the big ghoul screeches it's pack to attack her and her dog, surrounding them both.

.

Unfortunately for them this woman came packing with other weapons. Because from what I was told...this bitch was from a land called Texas. So in a flash she pulls out a revolver plugging every single ghoul one-by-one. She almost got half the group, but one gun after another, she ran out of ammo. However this wasn't her end yet. She then pulls out a blade & starts hacking at them like a batshit out of hell, while her dog rips out their throats.

.

Hours go by till dawn & only her, her dog and the wounded giant ghoul are facing off. Her dog charged first, aiming for the bastard's leg. Trying to pull that huge fucker to the ground, just so his mistress can strike the final blow. It almost worked but he only pissed the thing off, only to have him smack the dog into a giant rock. She tried swinging her blade at his arms, but it hardly effected him, has he grabbed her and slams her into the ground. As he was about to strike her down with it's fist, the General's dog leaps off the rock, onto his back and bites the back of the giant ghoul's neck. Then the General grabs her sword and thrusts it deep into his rotting heart.

.

The rotting giant looks at his chest seeing the blade in it. Then it dies on top of her, as she tries pushing the huge corpse off her. Pulling her bloody sword out of the giant corpse, she calls her dog. And then they both limp off back to the settlement where she almost died that day. However she lived to tell the tribals and her men what has happened. And told them it was thanks to her dog and blade that she managed to survive.

.

To this day her blade is now a part of legend. A legend all ghouls fear by the sight or smell of their fellow ghouls' blood. It goes by many names, but to some they call it the Ghoul Slayer Blade. Or some lame-ass name like the Ghoul Stabber or some shit.

.

The guy who told me about it never said it's real name for original reasons and I think he said he's working on a name still. But he said so long as I gave it another cool nickname he was fine with in. So a big thank you to him for sharing his character's story and hope to make more good ones with him in the future.

[slumberingcorpse]

Monster

Simon “Ghost” Riley x John “Soap” McTavish

Summary: Soap gets jealous of a dog.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff with a tiny bit of angst for taste

A/N: My first attempt at writing COD fanfic. I hope I don’t sound too much like a pleb. Enjoy.

Soap couldn’t ask for anything more. Graves and Hassan were buried six feet under probably comparing war crimes in hell. Alejandro and Rudy got their base back and were hard at work rebuilding it. His greatest achievement, however, was convincing 141 one and only Ghost to go out with him.

Sure he was drunk as hell when he asked him out. He was too terrified of the man to try to do it sober. If anything, Ghost saying yes sobered him up in an instant.

It has been eight months since then. Soap wishes he could say that their relationship was perfect from the beginning, but that would be a lie. It took a lot of work for both of them with all the baggage they carried. It was all worth it in the end though. It was shocking how perfect Ghost was as a boyfriend, especially in bed. Soap was more than surprised to find how much Simon liked to cuddle.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Everything was just too perfect and now the universe had to ruin it.

Standing on the landing dock, Soap impatiently waits for the helicopter to land. Ghost has been gone for two weeks on a mission with Gaz trying to find any information on Markarov. Two weeks since the last time Ghost held him at night. He couldn’t help but get antsy.

Once the blades stop spinning, Gaz stepped out. Spotting Soap he stretches and walks over.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the welcoming party? Did you miss me?” Gaz teases walking over with a shit-eating grin.

“Almost as much as a rash,” Soap rolls his eyes before turning back towards the helicopter, “Where’s Ghost?”

It was Gaz’s turn to roll his eyes, “Relax, I didn’t get your boyfriend killed. He’s just making sure the little lady is comfortable.”

“Who?” Soap asks cocking up his eyebrow confused. Gaz only chuckled and patted his shoulder, “You’ll soon find out.”

Soon enough, Ghost jumps out of the helicopter holding tightly a small bundle close to his chest. In a millisecond hundred of things fired off in Soap’s mind.

What the hell is Ghost holding?

Is it a kid?

No, it’s too early to even bring up having a kid!

Does Ghost even want kids? They never got around to talking about it. How would it even work? Soap wasn’t planning on retiring anytime soon, but then again, if Ghost wanted to...maybe retiring early wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Johnny? Are you alright?” Ghost asks quickly snapping Soap out of thoughts.

“Yeah! Of course! How was the mission? What’s in the bundle?” He asks quickly.

Ghost shoots him a concerned glance before shrugging, “We didn’t find anything too useful, except for Riley.”

“Riley?”

Ghost nods and uncovers the bundle in his arms revealing nothing other than a shabby German shepherd pup curled up against his chest, “She kept following me around on the mission. I fed her some of my MREs and she stayed by my side ever since. Smart girl too, the bastards tried to seek up on us but she sniffed them out and warned us. She might not look like much now but after a bath, a trip to the base’s vet, and a couple of months in training I’m sure she’ll be a great military dog.”

“Wait, you’re planning on keeping it?” Soap asks looking down at the dirty dog in his boyfriend’s arm.

Ghost’s eyes darken under the mask as he tightens his grip around the pup, “Problem?”

“N-no. It’s just you know how Price gets with surprises. Does he know about our...newest member?” Soap lies forcing himself to smile.

Simon relaxes and nods, “I already told him once we completed the mission. He told me as long as I take care of all of her needs, she can stay.”

“Oh well, that’s good to hear. Well then, should we go inside? I managed to find a copy of that shitty movie I told you about before you left, we could-”

“Not today, Johnny, first I have to get Riley clean, go buy some dog supplies too. MREs are hardly edible for us, can’t imagine them being edible for a pup. We can watch it another time,” Ghost interrupts only to quickly leave with Riley.

Soap couldn’t believe it. A dog. Out of anything he could’ve brought back, he brought a bloody mutt. Suddenly, the half-a-dog joke Ghost made back at Las Almas echoed in his head. Never in his life could he guess that Ghost would end up as a dog person.

Soap always had a dislike for the mutts. Always covered in mud and slobber, barking non-stop in the middle of the night. Not to mention the number of times he had to run for his life to escape the creature’s jaws from ripping into his neck on the battlefield. Now he doesn’t even have a base to protect him from the little terrors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say that Ghost was happy, was an understatement, he was fucking ecstatic. Is every waking moment was spent with Riley. From walks, feeding her, taking her to vet appointments, and some basic training, Ghost has never been happier.

“Riley, sit! Stay!” Ghost orders holding up a silent hand signal, grinning under his mask as the pup followed his orders perfectly.

“Atta girl,” he praises tossing her a treat before giving her another order.

“You know, if I have known that getting Ghost a dog would stop him from being a gloomy bastard all the time. I would’ve gotten him a dog years ago.” Price chuckles into his coffee mug as he watches Ghost’s training.

“Yeah, it’s a fucking miracle,” Soap grumbles sarcastically staring down at the dark sludge filling his own mug.

Price cocks his eyebrow in interest, “Trouble in paradise sergeant?”

“If you consider my boyfriend’s obsession with that mangy mutt trouble, then yes,” Soap vents glaring over at Riley as she gives Ghost her paw only to glare over at Price when he hears him start to laugh.

“Oh, Christ, you’re serious!? You’ve got to be taking the piss!” Price snickers unable to stifle his laughter.

“I am. I don’t know what Ghost sees in that...monster.”

“Johnny, you can’t possibly be jealous of a puppy.”

“What!? No! It’s not like that!” Soap argues feeling his cheeks start to warm.

“It sure sounds like you are. Ghost doesn’t give all his attention to you for a few days and now you’re throwing a fit, is that it?”

Soap huffs and stomps his feet like a child, “I’m not throwing a fit!”

“Johnny? Is everything okay?” Ghost asks causing Soap to tense up. He almost forgot how silent Ghost’s footsteps could be. Usually, when Ghost appears out of nowhere would end up in a surprise hug or kiss on the cheek but today it was different. Price had a cocky smirk on his face and that damned mutt was sweetly nestled in Ghost’s arms. It made his blood boil.

“Everything is perfect!” he shouts throwing his arms up in the air before turning his heel. Shooting another glare at Riley, he continues, “And stop popping up behind everyone like that! It’s annoying and creepy as hell!” he complains before storming off to his room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days, Soap’s mood only worsened. It seemed like Ghost’s puppy obsession has spread over to Gaz who would not stop taking pictures of Riley in her small tactical jacket.

“I’m going to die! She’s so cute!” Gaz squeals as the pup happily wags her tail, adoring the attention. Ghost leans down and pets her head proudly, “In a few months Riley will be able to take down armies. Makarov and Shepherd won’t know what hit them.”

Soap couldn’t help but scoff, “Oh yeah, I’m sure a dog would do lots, up until it gets shot or blown up.”

Both soldiers turn their attention toward Soap. Gaz was fuming at his comment while Ghost just looked surprised that he said it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you even say that?” Gaz finally shouts.

“What? Just saying. After all, what has two legs and bleeds? Eh, L.T.?” Soap brings up looking at Ghost for an answer.

Regret quickly fills his chest seeing Ghost’s silent stare. To anyone else, it would seem angry but Soap knew better. His stare showed nothing but fear and sadness.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize, Ghost was already gone followed quickly by the all-so-loyal, Riley while Gaz walks up to him.

“I don’t know what’s happening between you two but that was a dick move.” Gaz chastised crossing his arms over his chest.

Soap sighs and frowns, “I know...I know...I’m just...I’m jealous of the damn dog...”

“Seriously? That’s the problem?” Gaz scoffs.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Soap sighs turning away in embarrassment.

“Oh no, I’m not laughing. I’m disappointed. During the whole mission, Ghost kept going on about being excited to show you, Riley. Ghost never talks. Not to me he doesn’t and yet he went on and on about you and Riley. And yet here you are being a selfish twat. Instead of talking to Ghost like a real man, you told him that his dog is going to die. I hope you’re proud,” Gaz huffs before walking away.

“Fuck,” Soap curses as he gets up. He messed up big time. Gaz was right. He didn’t even consider Ghost’s feelings. The thought of talking to him didn’t even cross his mind and now he made a whole mess of things.

Thinking over a way to apologize, Soap makes his way to Ghost’s room. He hesitates for a moment before knocking on the door, “Ghost? Can we talk?”

There was silence for a few seconds followed by shuffling and a click coming from the other side, “Door’s open. Come in.” Ghost calls out.

Taking a deep breath, Soap walks in. It hasn’t been a while since he was in Ghost’s room and yet so much has changed. Dog toys were scattered about, and a large dog bed was placed next to the right side of the bed with Riley peacefully sleeping, and then there were the dog bowls next to the bathroom door. In the center of the room was Ghost, no Simon, sitting silently on his bed avoiding Soap’s eyes.

He still had his gear on but his mask of off showing his grease-covered face. Even after so many months, it was a rarity to see Ghost’s face. Only in the most intimate situations did he decide to take it off and even then, Ghost still had trouble trusting Soap with touching his face. Johnny didn’t mind though, just staring at his gorgeous scared face was enough to make his heart flutter.

Maybe in a better situation, he would jump into his arms and start to kiss those full lips passionately, but for now, he had to focus.

“I umm...we have to talk...” Soap mutters anxiously unsure how to explain himself without sounding like a complete dolt.

“What was it?” Simon suddenly asks. His voice was deep and cold but his hands were trembling.

“W-what?” Soap asks confused glancing down at his boyfriend’s hands. He’s never seen Simon so stressed before. Even on missions, this couldn’t just be because of his stupid comment, could it?

Simon lets out a shaky breath and looks down at his feet, “What did I do for you to finally see me as a monster?” he asks. This time his voice was weak no higher than a whisper but it was loud enough for Soap’s heart to break.

“Simon, you aren’t making sense. What are you talking about?” Soap questions became more confused and worried as the conversation went on.

“I’m talking about you!” Simon snaps looking up at Soap with tearful eyes, “Ever since I came back from the mission you’ve been so distant. Every time I try to talk to you, you’re in a worse mood than before and every time you look at me all I can see is hate and disgust in your eyes...so what did I do, Johnny? P-please tell me,” he begs, dropping his head into his shaky hands.

Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place, and Soap never felt so stupid, “Christ...” he sighs causing Simon to tense.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I was...I am jealous of the fucking dog.” Soap confesses. He didn't care how stupid he sounded. It was stupid.

Simon stays silent for a few moments before slowly looking back up at Soap with an unreadable look, “Excuse me?”

“Riley,” Soap sighs turning away in shame, “You’ve been spending so much time with her, so I got jealous...I wasn’t glaring at you...I was glaring at her for getting all of your attention.”

Simon’s eyes widen as he processes what he heard before pulling Soap down into a passionate kiss. Johnny yelps in surprise but quickly makes himself comfortable on Simon’s lap as he kisses back.

“Johnny, you’re going to be the death of me. This whole bloody week I thought you were going to leave me only to find out you’re jealous of my dog? I would be angry if it wssn’t so-”

“Stupid?”

“Hilarious,” Simon chuckles before diving in for another heated kiss only pulling away to breathe.

“Well? What now?” John pants glancing over to the sleeping pup.

“I’m not going to give away my dog, McTavish,” Simon chuckles holding onto his waist.

John pouts, “I don’t like sharing.” he whines peppering Simon’s shoulder with light kisses.

“You’ll have to get used to it. She’s staying.” Simon retorts kissing his boyfriend’s temple.

“Couldn’t you have gotten a different kind of pet? Like a fish or a cat? Maybe a snake instead?”

Another chuckle rumbles through Simon’s chest, “Not a dog person, Johnny?”

“Despise the mutts. Back home there was always this bulldog that would bark at me on my way to school. One day it dug under the gate and attacked me. Nearly tore my face off.” Soap confides kissing up his neck.

“Yeah well, the only faces that Riley will rip apart are those who try to hurt you. I’ll make sure of that,” Simon reassures running his hands under Soap’s shirt and enjoying the heat redating off of his body.

“As if I need two guard dogs,” Soap scoffs in response leaning down to give Ghost another tender kiss.

“Oh? Who’s the other dog?” Simon hums into the kiss.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s you L.T.”

[solivagantingrebel]

WIP Wednesday 💀 🧼

Just like I promised! I'm working on a Christmas Ghoap fic, it'll be a three part thingy. Extremely hallmark-ish but yaknow, maybe the fluff is deserved this season.

Also first person pov because I'm experimenting & I can.

Imagine being hyped up over returning to an empty house.

This place hasn’t been ‘home’ for a while, and considering how much I was travelling all over, I never thought I’d need a concept of home beyond a base to recover before, during and after missions.

Everything was left as I remembered — which only meant everything was the same sterile silence that held the vaguest trace of life, if you consider my mam and da’s belongings, and the random stuff that my sister didn't bother taking, scattered around. She would’ve visited, maybe, if she wasn’t over in Wales with a new kid running around. A handful, that bugger was, and her apologies were starting to make me feel tired so I waved the concern off. I don’t think I can handle having a kid around alongside her, not with my motor functions still feeling a bit fucked up. It wasn’t anything unmanageable, the main reason I’m not rotting in some hospital bed, but it hurt like a weeping bastard at times, and it was ten times more annoying when I had to deal with flares. Other than that, everything was your usual business.

Eat, scroll and watch shit on my laptop, think about what I’m supposed to do with my life after all hope fucked off, eat more, and sleep. A monotonous hell. I woke up today feeling like I needed to stretch my legs, so I walked straight to the door, slipped a coat over my shoulders and faced the Scottish winter head on. Like an absolute idiot. Feeling winded after just thirty minutes of walking was embarrassing enough, I had to grasp the mailbox before I fell over my arse in the final stretch. Credit to the mailbox though, I managed to catch the sight of a fancy looking envelope, from some law firm I’ve never seen or heard of. Since I didn’t have anything better to do for the rest of the day, I opened it immediately.

Guess who's inheriting his grandfather's tree farm, folks 🫶 and who is going to be there taking care of the said farm 😉💀 (if there are mistakes here that i missed. you didn't see them).

[boredwritergirl]

Day 15 - Drip

Drip

It was a scorching hot noon at an Arizona strip mall. Marta stood behind the counter of the local Nike store, her shift demanding her to stay in spite of the intense heat.

Thick layers of sweat beat down Marta’s head, no matter how many times she swiped it away with her long sleeve work uniform, the sweat would just come back. She could swear that the sweep would reform on her forehead faster and faster each time. The sleeves of her uniform had become drenched from her 7 hours working this day.

‘Only 1 Hour to go,’ Marta thought. ‘Then I can go back home in the air conditioning, with lots of cold water bottles, and my girlfriend and I can rub ice on each other like in Do The Right Thing. Man, I wish I could get this damn shift over with.’

Unfortunately for Marta, the strip mall barely had any customers in it, most of them were in the comfort of their own homes, trying to stay cool during the heatwave. Of course, Marta did what any bored employee would have done, looked around her surroundings in the hope that she could get interested in anything.

She had noticed a woman and her child leave a store across the strip, just barely in her line of sight. It was from a specialty shop, Bath Bonanza. It sold a lot of hair products, deodorant and other cleaning supplies, but they had become popular for joining in on the hip new trend… Bath Bombs.

Seeing the customers leave, Marta groaned internally. ‘Lucky bastards!’ Marta thought. ‘Why can’t I go home and take a bath bomb for me and my girlfriend. Hell, at this point, I’d just settle for a bath, even if I drowned in it.’

Shortly after, she heard the distinct sounds of metal clunking in front of a store, as the Bath Bonanza employee closed up for the day. As the employee walked in front of the Nike store, Marta decided to catch her attention.

“Hey!” Marta shouted, “How come your greedy corporation let’s you go home early while mine let’s me rot here!?”

The employee, a slightly younger woman with “Alma” written on her name tag, looked shocked, and approached the disgruntled Nike employee. “Sorry, mine must be better managed than yours.”

“Ugh, you’re telling me!” Marta shrugged, “It’s almost like they want me to melt to death in this dump.”

Alma added “Yeah, it’s even worse considering that the shores don’t get as much ventilation as the strip itself, so we’re suffering the heat more than most.”

Marta’s eyes widened, “W-wait, is that true?”

Marta rushed outside to the front of her store, stepping into the long and empty strip mall center and said, “Holy shit, it really is cooler out here! Still hot as hell, but I’ll take what I can get!”

Alma sighed, “Yeah, Honestly, it’s a miracle that I was let out at all. I felt like I was going to die in there too. I-”

Alma got cut off by the sound of the fire alarm. What had happened was that sunlight entered the stripmall from the lack of ceiling above it, going right through the glass window of Bath Bonanza and pinpointing on one of their bath bombs, setting it on fire and triggering the alarm.

Alma freaked out, “Oh fuck, I’m going to lose my job over this!”

Then suddenly, the store’s sprinkler system turned on. The boxes upon boxes of bath bombs all got soaked as the sprinklers put out the small fire, causing the bath bombs to turn the sprinkles of water into a tidal wave, storming out of the store, breaking the door and metal gate down and flooding the entire strip.

Alma and Marta both got swept up by the tide, and held onto each other so they wouldn’t drift away. 

Marta yelled, “What the hell is happening!” but unfortunately for her, a bunch of soapy water entered her mouth, so Alma couldn’t tell what she was actually saying.

The current carried them both outside the strip mall. As it died out, the strip itself was covered in suds, leaving the two employees fully soaked.

Alma sighed, “I’m never working in the summer again. The desert’s just not cut out for bath bombs.”

Marta wrapped her arm around Alma’s shoulder, saying. “Hey, at least we don’t have to worry about heat stroke. Come on, I’ve got a hot girlfriend and a bucket of ice at home, care to join me?”

Alma shook her head, “After a day like today, that sounds lovely.”

[solaceinabandonment]

Solace in Abandonment

Hungry.

Ashley had hoped she would reach a point where she could ignore it. The pain had dulled but it was now an ever present ache, not as sharp but it would not fuck off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this," she grumbled. If she didn't distract herself she was going to explode. Her head was fuzzy and full of bees. It felt gross, so she decided a shower was in order. Well, maybe a bath. less likely to pass out and crack her skull.

"Ooh, that's a conversation starter," she thought. Even a slow torturous death couldn't stop her from bugging her beloved Andy. A mischievous grin crossed her face as she headed for their room.

"Hey Andrew, I wanna take a shower. You wanna come with and make sure I don't fall and die?"

Andrew rolled over and looked his sister in the face, trying to gauge what her intention was. There was always something more to what she said and he'd learned to read between the lines over the past twenty years. That evil smirk told him she was trying to fuck with him. Maybe he'd fuck back this time.

"Ashley, you're either trying to bait me into eating your corpse or seeing you naked under some weird hunger induced notion of romance." He looked her in the eye, waiting for a reaction

Ashley's eyes widened and she pointed at Andrew teasingly, "You think being around me naked would be romantic?"

Andrew threw his head back into the bed and grabbed his face in both hands. Advanced malnutrition meant he saw stars in doing so. Once they passed he spat, "that's not what I meant you freak!"

Ashley's grin grew toothy and wide as she moved closer to the bed, "So does that mean you want me to fall and die so you can eat me instead?" She crawled on the bed, struggling not to pass out on top of Andrew. "That's so fucked up and I am absolutely down for that, if there is even a glimmer of love in your heart left for your precious Leyley then you will let me be inside you Andy!"

There was a pause, then Andrew started laughing. He draped one arm across his face, while the other pounded the bed. The force threw Ashley off balance and she flopped over on top of him. She began laughing too, and the both of them cackled like maniacs. After their laughing fit passed Ashley took the opportunity to make herself comfortable and snuggle up close to her brother.

"I meant what I said, you know." Ashley tilted her head to look Andrew in the eye as she spoke. "No sense in letting perfectly good meat go to waste."

Snaking his arm under Ashley, Andrew rolled over on his side, flipping his sister between himself and the wall. She yelped in surprise. He reached up and moved her hair from her face, and looked her in the eyes. "Absolutely not. You're all I've got left in this goddamn purgatory. I know I'm being selfish but you are staying with me for as long as possible."

The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the words he spoke set her on fire. Her heart pounded and her mind could only think of one word: mine. "Mine, mine, mine. He was all mine and nobody else's," she thought.

Eyes wide and serious, she responded, "It goes both ways you know. I'm really selfish and greedy and possessive. If I'm going to be yours you can't have anybody else. Not that bitch from before the start of all this, not some fucking whore you meet after this, not even Mom and Dad. They all abandoned us to die here, THEY DON'T CARE AND THEY DON'T MATTER!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she buried herself in Andrew's chest.

Emotional outbursts always left her feeling raw and exposed. She hated it so much. Maybe that's why she got so angry. The most painful part of this one is that it was true. All those people who should have been looking out for them, the people that they loved and trusted had just moved right the fuck on. Ashley choked out, "goddamn fucking bastards should rot in hell, just like the one they left us in."

Andrew wrapped his arms around Ashley, hugging her tight. Eventually her tears stopped and she pulled back to look at him again. Everything she wanted, everything she needed was right in front of her. She ran her hands through his hair. Her fingers slipped close to his scalp, firmly twisting hair in her hands. His arms went to her waist and pulled her closer.

Close enough to feel her breath on his face, Andrew spoke, "They left us alone, so we might as well be each others. I'll be yours if you'll be mine, Leyley." Ashley's heart skipped, hearing him call her that for the first time in forever. She closed her eyes and pulled Andy's lips to her own.

[chainsawcorazon]

only in my old age does it hit how awful of a decision it was for angel to not only transplant the fang gang into a timeline where connor lives, but erase their memories too! it’s like the irreparable damage in season four was merely amplified. of COURSE angel doesn’t feel like his struggle’s getting him any closer to shanshu because he keeps not DEALING with this shit. he’s outchea changing timelines, wiping memories, rewinding days, etc. of COURSE he still harbors resentment against wesley bc the motherfucker’s repressed his feelings of both love and hatred towards him because how DARE one of his closest male friends try to STEAL his child and raise him on his own iNSTEAD OF WITH ANGEL HIMSELF???

and not to mention gunn/fred! they raised that boy for months! they played mom and dad while angel was hallucinating at the bottom of the ocean and wesley was enjoying his dark’ness with lilah AND tryna bring angel back to the surface, and lorne??? lorne clocked that boy’s crazy! angel, in his inability to deal with his grief and loss, stripped his team of their OWN ability to deal with their grief and loss. because THEY deserved to grieve too! wesley deserved to grieve his ousting from the group AND THE FACT THAT HIS PROPHECY FUCKING CAME TRUE. fred should have been able to grieve the crumbling of her relationship with gunn, her shame of not thinking she’s ‘champion’ enough, and the decisions she made in the throes of the literal apocalypse and the revelation that one of her key abusers was a trusted confidant. gunn should have been able to grieve the death of the son that was not his but the one he DID look after, and the relationship he ended after years of feeling helpless himself with no one caring for his needs and declining mental health.

connor was a bitch. his entire existence outside of when he was a baby was the bane of everyone’s existence, BUT HE WAS THEIR CHILD. THEY ALL TOOK TURNS RAISING HIM AND LOVING HIM. they should have been able to grieve not only his death but all the what-have-could-haves!

the tragedy of ats is that the writing was so fucking bad, it inadvertently made angel, the hero, the BIGGEST clown in the show by never allowing him to truly and honestly deal with his pain, and by extension, his team’s pain. the memory wipe was paint on rotting plaster. it wasn’t even half the fix-it angel thought it was, and all it did was diminish the suffering the fang gang had to go thru. it’s always angelus this, angelus this, wolfram and hart this wolfram and hart that, it’s never ANGEL, PLEASE DEAL. and it’s fucking tragic, because after eight seasons of content, he DID deserve to have some respite, to deal with his pain, and finally be put to rest instead of selfishly taking from his friends what only a god could do.

and angel was never a god, and yet he had access to god’s powers. instead of letting this man fucking DEAL with his shit with his friends’ support, joss instead flipped the story on its ass. deaths and unreconciled losses and relationships everywhere, until angel was left to what? fight eternally?

lmao the man never actually left hell, and his poor friends got dragged into it with him. this is why we never need a buffyverse reboot ever again. imagine giving one of the central characters from your original show a whole ass show of his own, and not even writing a conclusion for him. all these years and for what? so he could hurt lorne, watch the others die, and become the very bastard buffy called him out to be thru andrew? it’s grimdark shit from hell and i hope we never have to see a reboot or continuation of it bc IF we did, and angel was STILL doing his clown shit, then buffy WOULD be the one to send his ass to hell again bc all the story would have proved is that you can put a soul in a man, but you can’t make him like it. and how’s THAT for a metaphor? forget trying to atone for your fucking sins, cuz your ass is grass and goin straight back to hell regardless 🤦🏽‍♀️

angel im so sorry joss that dumb fuck did this to you. you were a whiny cunt, but you were loved, and i have every faith that you finally made it out of this hell 😭

[lucero-is-here]

Here is a short featuring Arthur Wright and Bernadine Rochester! Not my best work, but let’s go! _______________________________________________

“Good to see you again Arthur…Thank you so much for your support during such a hard time…”

Bernadine thanked as she poured Arthur some tea, before sitting opposite him with her own cup.

“No problem my darling. I’m so sorry for your loss. Leopold Rochester was a good man. I also heard that you’re planning the funeral,”

Arthur said, taking a sip of tea as he looked at Bernadine with a soft, sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Yes…I hope to pay my respects to him. He was such a sweet man…He attended all my social events and gave his support to everyone,”

Bernadine said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

“Just know, that if you ever need anyone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, I’m always willing to make time for you darling,”

Arthur said, trying his best to sound as comforting as possible in such a sensitive moment.

“Mhm…Thank you darling. To think that Uncle Horatio would do something so despicable…But remembering how he treated some of the maids and unfortunately family, I should have expected it really,”

Bernadine said nonchalantly. Arthur choked on his tea hearing that, as he couldn’t help but wonder how awful Horatio could have been for his own niece to say that. Well- Horatio did intend to lock her away in gryphon sanctuary…But this had nothing to do that cursed asylum. Bernadine seemed to have realised Arthur’s shock and looked up at him.

“What? Did I offend you? Yes I know what I said may have been crude, since he is my uncle but it is true!”

Bernadine argued, getting extremely defensive as she shifted back a little, her eyes darting back and forth.

“What-? No- of course not. But well- if you don’t mind me asking, how did your uncle treat your family and the maids?”

Arthur asked, bracing himself for the worst.

“Oh- well…He was always extremely rude to the staff. Basically anyone who worked for us had to do things perfectly otherwise he’d yell at them so much they’d wish that they were never born- and then there is poor Viola’s mother. I can’t imagine how awful that poor woman must have had it…Being treated like an object instead of an actual human being by Uncle Horatio….”

Bernadine started ranting. Arthur listened attentively, not taking his eyes off of Bernadine for even a split moment. As he listened to her ranting, his blood was slowly boiling inside of him.

“And remember how I was sobbing to you the other day about something?”

Bernadine asked, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts as he blinked.

“Ah- pardon me…but yes. Of course. Why?”

Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. Bernadine took a deep breath, as she squeezed her hands together.

“Well…I may have made the foolish mistake to go and visit Uncle Horatio in prison….I simply wanted to talk to him about what he has done and…Well…He said some really crude things…How I was nothing but a burden to the family, and I wasn’t “loyal” and all that…How he said he would have been more than happy to lock me away in Gryphon Sanctuary…That I was nothing more than a useless obstacle to the family…”

Bernadine mentioned, starting to get teary eyed again. This was the last straw, as Arthur’s expression completely changed from a look of horror to a mixture of horror and rage.

“But well…This is all in the past now isn’t it? Thank you for listening to me rant Arthur. This makes me feel so much more better about everything,”

Bernadine thanked, before she looked up at Arthur, who was starting to get lost in thoughts.

“Um…Arthur? Darling? Are you alright?”

Bernadine asked, standing up from her seat. She sounded a bit worried. Arthur didn’t reply. At the moment, Bernadine thought she upset Arthur, until he softly blurted out a small string of gibberish.

“…I’m sorry- what did you say-?”

Bernadine asked, looking puzzled.

“…Oh nothing. Just that Horatio is a good for nothing bastard that should be rotting in hell right now. But apparently, life has other plans for him,”

Arthur said mindlessly, completely overcome with rage. Hearing Arthur say this, Bernadine let out an audible gasp.

“Arthur! Don’t say such things! He may have done awful things but we shouldn’t be saying such- such god awful things to anyone!”

Bernadine exclaimed in shock.

“But it’s true. I don’t think anyone can argue with that,”

Arthur muttered, his composure coming back.

“Well I- …As much as I hate to admit it, it is true…”

Bernadine sighed, before sitting back down and burying her face into her hands.

“Well…If you ever need someone to rant to about such matters again….I’m here,”

Arthur mentioned. Bernadine stayed quiet for a while, as an awkward silence filled the room. Arthur was wondering if he had gone too far, speaking hus mind so carelessly like that. He got up from his seat, before walking over the Bernadine and sitting next to her.

“…I’m so sorry for being so crude. I let my emotions get the better of me. I’m so sorry Bernadine-”

Arthur apologised, but was cut off by Bernadine.

“No. Don’t apologise. Please. I can’t- …I don’t want to hear you saying sorry…”

Bernadine muttered, sounding miserable.

“…I- …Alright my darling. Is there anything i can do for you to make you feel better?”

Arthur asked.

“…I’d like a hug please.”

Bernadine requested.

Hearing that, Arthur smiled as he hugged Bernadine tightly. Bernadine lifted her head, before wrapping her arms around Arthur and hugging him back….

_______________________________________________

Whoo! I quite like this. Please do not steal my work, and I hope you enjoy this!

[mistfulcake]

Platforms Of Fate (Often considered the 1st in the series.)

----

Chapter XX, im just writing moments and then threading them together to form a story :P

----

"Will you die at the hands of god or the strings of fate in which he has made a trap out of.

The spider or the web?!"

Theo yelled out. His throat threatening to crack and croak with every emotion that he could feel in his voice. He could feel his breath rasping, his pained expression almost begging for some hope in the others eyes.

"Because I'm not dying to either. I'm sick of being treated as if I'm someone that needs help..." He stopped yelling and mulled over his words. An uncomfortable silence took over the tense atmosphere. Theo sighed and glanced away from the group.

"Maybe I do need it. But that's not the point, are we really going to let some... Sick bastard that plays dolls with us, make us lose that hope? That same hope that we might escape this hell? Because I sure as hell am not."

He turned back to the broken hourglass, glaring at its taunting glow. The same one that would soon start the Events as if nothing ever happened.

Everything he suffered through, every bad thought, every single ideation back then.. was nothing compared to The Platforms. His eyes that hid under a visor could see this unfairness. No one needed to be forced to heal with more trauma.

He clenched his hand and ran across his shrinking platform. Running, but not from his problems. Not this time.

No longer being afraid to jump.

Platform to Platform.

With only three feet of space left, he prepared his body in case he fell down the void. Ran up to the bigger platform and-

Jumped.

Theo soon landed on the big grey platform with a thud, and glanced at the group. Smacking the dust off his pants, he realized he was shaking. His heart felt too fast, and his mind spun.

But it wasn't enough to deter him.

Caleb looked at Theo as Hash was still treating his injuries. "Hundreds of people.. maybe even millions have been trapped here. Do you even think we have a chance?" Caleb winced as he silently gave Hash a stare, Hash getting the message and shrugging nonchalantly.

"He's right. We don't even have our powers.. that some of us had before we came here. Strategically, we are making the wrong choice." Hash added on, they finished cleaning the wound and helped Caleb stand up.

Theo tapped his foot, glancing at the duo, Mar, and finally Neptune. His gaze drifted away to the void down below.. "I'm getting out of this hell, and if we have to defeat some omnipotent being than so be it. Because I won't give up, not if we all aren't guaranteed freedom. Let's try. At the very least." He sighed.

The rustling of the temporary tree next to them helped the silence that followed after.

Hash stayed quiet until they nodded, "I might be making a mistake. But I'm willing to trust you, Theo.. I think we all are learning to."

"..if Hash says it's good to go.. I'll try as well." Caleb muttered as he gave a thumbs up at Theo.

"I trust you too then. Not because I'm feelin' peer pressured or anything..." She coughed and turned her gaze towards him. "Okay maybe a little..." Neptune crossed her arms as she chuckled. "But something tells me we can do this."

"Theo, what's trust?" Mar looked up at the rest of the group, slightly confused about the sudden mood. Her usual hat was by the pile of leaves.

Theo looked at Mar and smiled, unsure about how to explain it to a kid. "Trust.. remember when we looked at the stars when it was night time, and you said that they would help you find your family?" The kid nodded and focused on Theo, tilting their head.

"The stars loved you enough to lead you to me. You knew you could rely on the stars. That's trust." He softly explained as he kneeled down to put their hat back on them. Mar laughed and peeped at him from behind it.

"So trust is like the stars?"

"As long as you believe in it." Theo replied back.

----

(KAHDKDHD OC BRAIN ROT RN.!!! I THINK THIS IS THE CHAPTER BEFORE MISTIC!! [Mistic's name is undecided as of now but I will try and see if it's great!])

(Also I love Theos adoptive brother role in the narrative, it really shows he has a soft spot just like he did with his old siblings

I decided to end it here because I needed some fluff and esp sleep since it's two am. That's why the writing is a bit... Meh.. at the end :')

See y'all!!)

Also no beta or revision for this so it's kind of dookie :'P

[juneandnick]

5x01 - Morning (My POV)

After season 4, I was so sure (maybe too sure) that June was leaving Luke. That she will be more involved in the resistance with Nick. That they were going to team up and much more ... I also had some wishes and I was completely wrong.

Small parenthesis, in season 4 we learn that June stayed seven years at Gilead. I always wondered if it means something for us to know it. For a couple the crisis of seven years is a very individual crisis, where everyone questions their vision of love. I agree seven years is not their wedding's anniversary or their meeting.

I am completely disappointed about this whole season (except few scenes).

I disagree with fans who are saying that it is okay if June and Nick cannot be together in season 5 because we needed a dry season for season 6. Because we already had that in season 3 and it was not necessary to start this s*** again.

I more or less understand that Nick tried to be happy with Rose, when June tried to be happy with Luke. But to see that in the whole season … it was too much.

In the bathroom, with in the background the music All I Have To Do Is Dream by The Everly Brothers, June is euphoric, remembering the hunt in the woods with a little smile of satisfaction. She ignores questioning from Luke and Moira. She leaves.

I was very surprised that the others women who helped her in Fred's death knew that June received help from Nick, that he is an eye. I am shocked that June gave so many details about him. It was incredibly stupid. But it is true that June does not really care about the consequences. Because he could have ended up on the wall.

It is true that Nick did the same about June with his new wife. Rose does not ignore what he did during all the night. She seemed to be a support in his decision to help June. And luckily she is not a teenager like Eden was. I want to believe that there is a deal between Nick and Rose. That they did not choose each other by chance.

I am surprised by Luke's lines: You did nothing wrong. Did nothing wrong. All right? He got what he deserved. In S4E10, we had Luke saying: June, they … They are going to let him go. Okay? So, you gotta let it go. And less than 24 hours, he is okay with that. Just like: Yeah baby, you did what you had to do. Seriously?

I am wondering something. June and women killed Fred in No Man's Land. Was it Nick's idea? Did he know by killing in this space, no one did not incur jail?

I am not a Serena's fan. How could I? She contributed Gilead's creation. She imprisoned, beat and raped June. She convinced Fred to rape June at nine month of pregnancy. All of this is unforgivable. But I have to say that Yvonne is incredible.

I do not like the dynamic between Moira and June. You can not agree with you friends all the times. But since Moira is in Canada, it is just like she became a sort Luke's groupie. If Luke says yes, she agrees. If he says no, she agrees too. What is happened to Moira? Okay, she is not happy that her best friend killed Fred. And it is just like she wants to see June in her old shoes. I do not find her supportive. I prefer her in flashbacks. Does she blame June for her relationship with Nick?

I find Mark Tuello enigmatic. It is not really clear what he thinks. I found surprising he says to June: I just came to say, well done. You did something terrible that needed to be done. I understand what that costs. May he rot in hell. Do not let the bastards grind you down. I want to believe that his character is more important than we can see. Exactly as for Nick. I hope we will know more in season 6.

Music by Adam Taylor

- Eighty Eight Dollars ❤️

- Absolution ❤️

Source Pictures: Screenshots (by me)