#i really like how frenzy's eyes and wings came out :]

[moonfurthetemmie]

I was tossing @shroudedinsilver's Fell!SwapDream hi silver around and started wondering what a fell swapdream would be like if it followed the entirely arbitrary rules me and wheeze had made up for fell AUs.

Specifically, the true villain(s) of the original becomes the only genuinely nice one(s). or at least, they try to be nice.

Just to be clear, this isn't supposed to be a 'better' or 'more correct' Fell!SD. I'm playing with the barbies and looking at it at a different angle. i love rahab and venom and it'd be obnoxiously pretentious to think i, who only knows Swapdream lore from second-hand sources, could do a "better" Fell!SD that Silver, who actually interacted with the source material. Also have you met rahab and venom

But. I have some half-baked story and some slightly more baked idiots

I don't have a proper name for the AU yet. and I can't call it Fell!Swapdream because that's obviously already taken. i guess i could call it Swapfell dreamtale. but that sounds weird to me. and lets be real, Dreamswap and Swapdream get confused enough; we don't need to also have a Fellswapdream and Swapfelldream

But anyway. here's my new morons. Frenzy (left) and Enmity (right)

An incredibly long time ago, there was a magic tree. You all know how this part of the tale goes.

Frenzy eventually ate the apples. Working on the exact 'why' still

Here, the Magic apples are like normal food, in that they give you lots of energy. But they give it instantly, and they have way more energy than a normal apple. The enormous burst of energy pushes him into a very destructive mania, and it lasts for months. The influx of so much potent magic isn’t helping, either.

He eventually gets it out of his system, and comes to his senses. He’s horrified by what he's done.

Enmity doesn’t really care about the balance, after everything he’s been put through just for his job. But he likes being alive, so he tries to maintain it so the multiverse doesn’t get wrecked and take him with it.

So he'd been following Frenzy around, trying to deal with him with very little idea of how. He mostly got his ass whooped; more out of carelessness than malice on Frenzy's part. That said, it was intentional, once because Enmity wouldn't get out of the way. He's got a lovely scar to show for it now.

He’d been afraid he may have to kill Frenzy to do it. Frenzy, his own brother, who’d been the only person who loved him for their whole lives until the incident.

He was still trying to come to terms with this fact when he found Frenzy, alone, crying incoherently. When Frenzy notices that he's there, he turns around and for the first time in ages, Enmity senses guilt from him. But he looks so relieved to see Enmity. He tells Enmity he has no idea what had gotten into him, why he'd done any of that, and- oh, god. that scar. He did that, didn't he? how could he...?

To say that Enmity is relieved is an understatement. He tosses out any ideas of killing his brother and just does his best to comfort him and tell him it'll be okay. Which isn't very easy when just standing too close makes Enmity's body and soul start burning.

They talk for a bit. Enmity changes the subject from what Frenzy did to some interesting things that he saw during his travels, to distract him and cheer him up. Once Frenzy's calmed down, though, he tells Enmity that he needs to fix this mess he's made. But...how? He's hurt so many people, but the balance is tipped too far to his side--the positive side--and trying to fix the other mess is just going to make people happy...

Enmity has a wonderful idea. And by wonderful i mean he's gonna have lots and lots of fun with it.

They are now traveling their MV, terrorizing the populace. There's much less death and destruction that during Frenzy's initial manic episode, but everyone's misery is slowly, slowly balancing the scales. very slowly. It'll be a long time before it's fully fixed, unless they can create (or maybe even invite) a huge source of negative magic. And Frenzy...as effective as Enmity's plan is, he doesn't want to hurt people more.

but he wants to start a fight with enmity even less.

his brother is all he has. He's already hurt him once. He can't do it again. He can't lose him.

anyway they're having a great time and definitely aren't toxic and codependent. at least they're still close...?

Dream: Frenzy

His real name in-universe is still 'Dream'. 'Frenzy' is the nickname he gets if he has to interact with any other variant of himself.

He still gets that some sort of mania if he’s somewhere very positive, and especially if he has lots of energy, but it’s nowhere near as strong as the first time. He still has some of his wits about him.

He nearly killed his brother in his first manic episode, and will occasionally still seriously hurt—usually out of carelessness, rather than doing it intentionally—during the lesser, infrequent ones he gets now. But he can’t stand the idea of Enmity abandoning him, and when the mania fades he bends over backwards to try to make it up to Enmity.

He will say and promise anything to Enmity to keep him from leaving. He can’t imagine Enmity seriously has forgiven him for what he’s done to him. Unfortunately this also means that, on the exceedingly rare occasions that Enmity seems to be making a friend, he’ll do everything in his power to quietly get rid of them. What if they convince Enmity that he needs to get away from Frenzy…?

He and Enmity can’t touch without it severely hurting Enmity. His aura is honestly too much but he can tone it down some so it’s bearable. He misses being able to hug his brother

Easily spooked, even though he can sense people's emotions and therefore should notice someone approaching before he can even see them. Hard to get him to fight, though; unless it's his brother asking

His left (viewer's right) eye is mostly blind, but he gets along ok for the most part. His depth perception's a little off, though, and...well. windows are a bit of a problem.

His memory is kinda fucked, too. At first he and Enmity thought it was just that he couldn't remember everything that happened when he was in a manic state, but no. his memory is just horrible now

Design notes:

his hair is a little singed. just a tad. it used to be longer, many years ago...

Many scars also; burns and punctures and cuts.

hehe fancy coat

the wings are hawk wings!

His crown should still act like a halo, but heroforge only gives me one kind of halo

Ideally, his wings would be so bright as to be blinding in the second picture. but they're as bright as they can be, and i'd adjusted the first too many times already

His chain weapons can be blunt or bladed. Both have their own strengths. He has to really concentrate to switch without de-summoning them first, so he rarely switches when in a fight. He can't use both at once. They're both present here for illustrative purposes.

His left (viewer's right) eye changes when he's using his magic, or when he's in a manic state. usually both happen at once but not always.

Nightmare: Enmity

His real name in-universe is still 'Nightmare'. 'Enmity' is the nickname he gets if he has to interact with any other variant of himself.

Much as he likes being alive, he hates people. And his idea of fixing the balance is terrorizing the populace. He loves it, and has no idea why Frenzy hesitates.

He always forgives Frenzy for hurting him. Always. It doesn’t matter the circumstances. He wants his brother to be happy enough to stay with him. He's just as terrified of losing his brother as Frenzy is, so he wants to make sure Frenzy knows that Enmity still loves him.

While Frenzy clearly hates it, Enmity has discovered that triggering minor manic episodes is an excellent way to “adjust” the balance. A positive place is no longer positive! Everyone’s upset! Mission accomplished. He makes sure to always tell Frenzy that he’s proud of him afterwards, too.

He hates that he has to leave Frenzy semi-often for his own safety, so Frenzy’s aura doesn’t kill him. He also misses hugs but he doesn’t know just how desperate Frenzy is for physical affection

Hard to unsettle, easy to goad into fighting you.

His vision in his right (viewer's left) eye isn’t completely gone, but it’s not…normal. He’s still not sure what he’s seeing through it, but at least it’s not giving him a headache. As much.

(What he sees are people’s auras; a mix of soul traits and emotions. While monsters don’t have strong or notable traits that differ from each other under normal circumstances, they can still be particularly determined, brave, kind, etc. it’s not terribly useful to him right now, but it’s a result of Frenzy’s magic getting stuck in his eye)

Design notes:

I wanted to imitate one of the reaper poses in FFXIV (the second one shown here, with the spinning scythe) but it's kinda hard to pull off the spinning without actual motion, and I'm not good at implying motion most of the time without like. motion lines

white hair

One big scar on his face, and it’s from Frenzy. This is why his vision's fucky

He still has a scythe, and that seems to scare people the most so he uses it the most. He still has a sword, but it's been so long since he's used it that he usually forgets about it nowadays

Needs to have freedom of movement, so he wears lightweight clothes.

Much like with Frenzy and the original SwaN and SwaD, his eyes change when he's using his magic. His right (viewer's left) is uh...still fucked up. pretty though

that's a ponytail. his hair's not just slicked back

Other notes:

i want them to be able to shift into animals but i want to be silly and do something other than a bird and a snake. that said i have no idea what I'd do

i forgor SwaN's fighting a bunch of corrupted magic in his system. i feel like sticking close to Frenzy is helping Enmity somewhat, but it's probably. not the best option.

enmity's fucked up eye hurts all the time. some days it hurts worse than others, and just how much it hurts is directly caused by how long he's been hanging out around his brother. At best, it causes a dull migraine. At worst, it burns like hell and he can't focus on anything else. The only thing he can do is sit/lay down and rest, away from Frenzy and his aura.

honestly enmity should be having a lot more problems from hanging around frenzy so much but it'll be figured out eventually

probably

If for some reason they end up somewhere and Frenzy is entirely without his magic. one of them is getting carried around. because frenzy's not letting go of enmity. enmity's totally fine with this

neither of them like the other making new friends. they're afraid that said new friends are going to convince the other they're better off without each other; Frenzy's afraid Enmity will be convinced that he should never have trusted Frenzy again after hurting him, and Enmity's afraid Frenzy will be convinced that he shouldn't stick with Enmity if he's pushing Frenzy to do something he doesn't like to do.

they do not realize the other is just as bad as they are about it

they're very protective of each other. but frenzy panics a lot more and if something happens to enmity there's going to be a lot of corpses and ash

[idkyetxoxo]

Two | The Gentle Unveiling | Afterglow

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - None

<- prev || series masterlist || next ->

Two months.

Two whole months had passed since the mating bond had snapped into place between Azriel and me—a golden thread pulled taut, delicate and unbreakable.

It still didn't feel real sometimes.

Azriel, the Shadowsinger, the brooding, silent warrior feared across courts and whispered about at night—was mine. And I was his.

The Mother had a wicked sense of humour, I'd come to realise. Where Azriel was stillness, I was spark. He moved like mist, like moonlight through fog, and I moved like sunshine on the first day of spring, loud, laughing, unapologetically alive.

And somehow, impossibly, it worked. We worked.

It had only been a month since we'd accepted the bond fully, survived the frenzy, which was... something. Something I had not been adequately warned about. 

It had been intense, all-consuming, and left me absolutely, insatiably undone in ways I still hadn't found words for.

And if I were being honest, neither of us had really stopped since.

Which was why, at this very moment, I was trying to fix my hair in the mirror—trying being the key word while Azriel stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist and his mouth attached firmly to the side of my neck.

"Az," I murmured, trying for stern but failing miserably. "Please. I need to do my hair. You know, so your family doesn't think I crawled out of a bush."

His only reply was a low hum against my throat, his lips grazing just beneath my jaw as he lazily tossed my hair over my shoulder to get better access. 

Shadows licked playfully along my skin, featherlight, almost purring with amusement.

"Maybe I should keep you here another month," he said, his voice rough velvet, gaze meeting mine through the mirror. "Those busybodies can wait."

His hazel eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown wide with want, and gods help me—I nearly caved.

"Tempting," I whispered, clutching the edge of the vanity for balance. "But you did promise not to keep me hidden forever."

"I never meant to hide you," he said softly, pressing a kiss behind my ear. "I just wanted... more time. Before they all started meddling."

"Azriel," I said, turning in his arms just enough to face him. "They're your family. They love you. They're going to love me too."

"You're optimistic for someone about to be thrown into the Circle like a lamb to wolves," he muttered dryly.

I grinned, twining my fingers through his hair and tugging gently until he looked me in the eyes.

"I'm a ray of sunshine," I said sweetly. "They'll be lucky to have me."

That earned a real laugh from him, deep and low and so rare it made my heart ache. I would never get used to the sound of it, never grow tired of drawing that warmth out of him.

"Ravish me when we return, Shadowsinger," I whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth before giving him a little shove.

He let me go, reluctantly, smirking as I stood and turned back to the mirror.

I smoothed my dress down over my hips, fingers brushing over the soft, rich blue fabric, a perfect match to the cobalt glow of Azriel's siphons. His idea, of course. "Subtle," he'd called it.

"How do I look?" I asked, twirling once with a grin.

Azriel watched me like he was starving. "How soon can I ravish you?"

I laughed, smacking his chest with a playful glare. He caught my wrist, tugged me against him, and in the blink of an eye we were airborne, his wings snapping open as we soared out the window and into the sky.

The wind whipped past us, crisp and clear in the high mountain air. The House of Wind came into view, golden lights spilling out of the windows like stars.

Azriel's arms held me tight as we dipped low over the cliffs, the city twinkling far below, and I couldn't help but whisper, "Are you nervous?"

There was a pause, his chin resting lightly atop my head.

"A little," he admitted. "They're going to ask a thousand questions. Rhys will probably smirk for an hour. Cassian's going to be unbearable."

I smiled. "Good. He deserves payback after all the stories you've told me."

Azriel chuckled, breath brushing my cheek. "You're dangerous."

"I try," I said, my hand pressed over his heart. "But I'm yours, remember?"

He kissed the top of my head, and we circled once above the House of Wind before descending.

Tonight, the secret became real. Tonight, I stopped being the mysterious girl who'd punched the Spymaster in the face and became what I was always meant to be.

Azriel's mate.

Dinner had begun wonderfully, though "wonderfully" in the Inner Circle meant a strange and chaotic cocktail of affection, snark, and very little personal space.

The initial introductions had been warm, albeit peppered with lighthearted teasing at Azriel's expense. 

Apparently, territorial wasn't even a strong enough word for how he'd been acting lately. 

Rhysand had snorted into his wine when Azriel refused to let go of my waist for the first ten minutes, and Mor had outright cackled when he subtly slid my chair half an inch closer to his.

To his credit, Azriel didn't say much. But his shadows curled around the room like warning smoke, dancing protectively at my back, unseen to most, but I could feel them. They loved me too, in their own secret way.

Now, we'd migrated to the plush living room, the air humming with firelight and full bellies. 

I was curled between Azriel and Cassian on the massive couch, one of Azriel's large, calloused hands resting warm and steady on my thigh.

Cassian, on the other side of me, had taken up the role of unofficial court jester, generously regaling me with scandalous tales of my mate's past adventures. 

Most of which I was sure were exaggerated... but also entertained by.

"It truly is astonishing," Cassian said, lifting his whiskey glass and eyeing me like I was a rare bird he couldn't quite believe had landed on Azriel's shoulder. "To see Azriel with someone so... bright."

I raised a brow, sipping from my wineglass. "I'll take that as a compliment. I think."

"You should," Mor chimed in, her smile equal parts angelic and mischievous as she lounged across from us, legs draped over Amren's chair. "He's usually all shadows and silence and 'I work alone.' You're practically sunshine in a dress."

Azriel exhaled slowly, clearly regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. His grip on my thigh tightened just slightly—a warning, or maybe a silent plea for mercy.

Rhysand, sprawled like a damn cat in an armchair nearby, was smirking into his wine. "It's refreshing, honestly. Like watching a thundercloud fall in love with the sun."

I beamed. "That's beautiful, Rhys. Did you rehearse that?"

"Of course," he replied smoothly. "I like to prepare for historic events."

Azriel muttered something under his breath, and I swore I saw a shadow jab Rhys in the ankle.

"Now, now," Rhys said smoothly, sidestepping without even blinking. "Don't lash out just because your mate is the most radiant creature we've had in this house."

Rhys leaned forward, eyes twinkling, and said directly to me, "If you ever tire of brooding and blades, my dear, I happen to be fond of sunlight."

Azriel didn't move, didn't speak but the tension vibrating off him was enough to shake a mountain.

Cassian leaned a little closer, all twinkling hazel eyes and unrepentant amusement. "Honestly though, you're stunning. Absolutely beautiful."

Azriel's shadows froze mid-drift. His thumb pressed slightly harder into my thigh—not painful, but firm. A silent enough.

Cassian, of course, noticed. And grinned like he'd just won a game only he was playing.

"What?" he said innocently, turning to Azriel but draping his arm behind me on the couch in the most not innocent way possible. "Can't I appreciate your mate's beauty? I'm just being polite."

Azriel's jaw flexed. "Polite would be keeping your hands to yourself."

"Technically," Cassian mused, glancing at the completely empty air between his hand and my shoulder, "I haven't touched her."

"That's not the point," Azriel growled, low and dangerous, but I nudged him gently.

"Easy, Shadowsinger," I murmured with a smile. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"I already have a rise out of him," Cassian muttered under his breath, barely dodging the shadow that snaked across the back of the couch toward his face. "Besides, can you blame me? She smells like citrus and honey and something I'd definitely make bad choices for."

I choked on my wine.

Even Mor burst out laughing at that one, while Amren, ever the chaos-loving little monster, added from her corner, "She's too good for any of you."

Azriel's grip on my thigh was practically a vice now, and though his expression hadn't changed much, still calm, still unreadable I could feel the tension in him. Like a storm waiting for the first crack of lightning.

"You're all insufferable," he muttered darkly, but his shadows had returned to circling me, curling up around my shoulders like living velvet, a quiet, possessive caress.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek, softly, deliberately. His jaw relaxed just a fraction. "I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, just for him.

"I know," he murmured back, his voice low and rough.

Cassian sighed dramatically. "Gods, you're unbearable as a mated male."

Amren simply hummed, sipping her bloodred wine. "One of you finally brought home someone who doesn't make me want to leave the room. I'm shocked."

Mor raised her glass. "To our newest ray of sunshine. May she continue to drive Azriel insane for centuries to come."

"Hear, hear!" Cassian echoed, clinking his glass against mine.

Azriel just groaned quietly under his breath, but when I rested my head against his shoulder, he leaned into me without hesitation. His shadows wrapped tighter, warmer.

Surrounded by laughter, mischief, and the found family who clearly adored him and were starting to adore me too, I let the moment settle over me like a blanket.

I belonged here. With him. With all of them.

And even if they teased him to hell and back... I was theirs now. And he was mine.

That night, when we finally returned home he followed through on his promise. Thoroughly.

Azriel had ravished me with a kind of intensity only he could conjure, like worship and wildfire and something infinitely more tender woven between each kiss, each whispered word. 

He had touched me like I was made of starlight, like I was something rare and celestial that had chosen to fall just for him.

And now, the storm had passed.

The room was hushed in the way only late night could be, velvet-draped silence, broken only by the soft rustle of sheets and the quiet rise and fall of our breathing. Moonlight filtered in through the open window, casting silver over the bed, painting our skin in a soft glow.

Azriel lay beside me, bare-chested, quiet in the way only he could be. 

His hand moved lazily across my shoulder, tracing absent-minded patterns into my skin, circles and constellations, or maybe just the memory of the places he had kissed earlier.

He didn't speak, but he didn't need to. There was something sacred in the stillness between us.

My cat Shadow had climbed onto the bed some time ago and now lay curled firmly against Azriel's side, purring like a small engine. 

The feline had only needed a week—and a few offerings of roasted chicken and chin scratches to declare Azriel acceptable company. Now he was obsessed.

Azriel's hand stilled as he glanced down at the sleeping ball of fur nestled into his ribs. One brow arched slightly.

"He's possessive," he murmured.

I smiled into the pillow, voice muffled with sleep. "He gets that from me."

Azriel huffed a soft laugh, the sound like dark velvet.

Shadow stirred faintly in response to his name, then promptly resettled with a twitch of his ear and a heavier, more dramatic sigh.

I turned slightly to face Azriel, burying myself deeper into the curve of his body. That's when I felt them—his shadows.

Soft and sinuous, they drifted toward me like ribbons of night, slipping across the mattress and brushing against the small of my back. One curled around my wrist, another twined through my hair like a breeze through silk.

It was instinctive now, how they reached for me just as my fingers reached for Azriel in the dark.

I smiled, eyes still closed. "My Shadow gets you and I get your shadows?"

"They're jealous," he murmured, low and reverent. "They want to be near you. Always."

I opened one eye, barely, and reached down to run my fingers through the living wisps of shadow. They coiled playfully around my wrist, content and warm in a way that shadows should never be.

"They're sweet," I whispered.

Azriel brushed his knuckles down the curve of my spine. "They love you."

I turned in his arms until I could see him, those hazel eyes soft now, stripped bare of brooding or biting amusement. Just warm and open, like he only ever was when it was just the two of us.

"I love you," I said, the words as easy as breath, and just as vital.

Azriel leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to my temple, then my cheek, then finally my lips, soft, unhurried, full of quiet wonder.

"I know," he whispered against my mouth. "And I'll never stop thanking the Mother for you."

We drifted then, me into the safe cocoon of his arms, his shadows curling tighter around me like they too were settling in for the night. 

Shadow purred, nestled against Azriel's ribs, and for a moment I imagined they were all bound by the same thread now, cat and male and shadows alike, all protectors in their own strange, loyal ways.

And me?

I was just the girl who had accidentally punched a Spymaster and ended up finding home in the arms of a myth.

Lucky, lucky me.

A/n - Meeting the family!

Az tried to keep her hidden for as long as he could but even the broodiest male can't resist fate or a determined sunshine mate. Naturally, his protective instincts are still in overdrive x

Of course, once they're home, the real bonding happens. Azriel gets her cat (Shadow has chosen well), and she gets his shadows (who are totally smitten). It's a very well-balanced household :)

This part was definitely more on the fluffy side. A little relationship growth, a sprinkle of teasing, and a whole lot of affection!!

The next part? Let's just say... things are about to heat up.

Thanks for reading <33

Afterglow tag list - @historygeekqueen @hyruledemigod20 @sheblogs @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @lou-diaries @wishingtobethiin @whore-of-many-hot-men @smileysunshinesworld @queenoffeysand @cubanfire @hailey-jean @hunterthefish @thisfireheart @anothergojostan @saamanthaag3 @kim-seungmins-gf @tele86 @thalia-as-blog @scatteredstardustt @moonlitlavenders

[inkedinshadows]

Different Person

Day 6: Wing play — Cassian x f!reader

Warnings: smut, begging, wing play

Word count: 884

Cassian never begged.

The General of the Night Court armies, Lord of Bloodshed, and Prince of Bastards didn’t beg. Even when he lost control and fucked you roughly, or when you were taking your sweet time riding him and driving him mad with the need to thrust up into you, he somehow managed to keep his composure.

But when you touched his wings, he turned into a completely different person.

You didn’t know how many times you had come already, but you and Cassian had spent the whole afternoon in bed, fucking the way you hadn’t done since the mating frenzy years ago.

After yet another mind-shattering orgasm, you were sitting on his lap, lips locked on his and tongues swirling together. Despite the weariness beginning to settle in your bones, every cell in your body was screaming for more, that primal need to have his cock inside you never really satiated.

You shifted to straddle him and deepen the kiss, but as you did, you accidentally brushed your fingertips against the base of his wings, splayed out behind him on the bed.

Cassian groaned, fingers digging into your hips. “Careful, sweetheart.”

But you only smiled, an idea forming in your head. You had learned all the most sensitive spots on his wings over the years, and you decided now it was time to play.

Reading the new determination on your face, Cassian opened his mouth. “Y/N—”

Whatever he was about to say was replaced by a low moan as you ran a finger down the center of his left wing. Before he could even catch his breath, you repeated the movement on his right one.

Cassian’s eyes were wide and locked on you as you moved off him to have better access. You were just getting started, and you both knew that.

You leaned down and blew on the delicate membrane, smiling as his wing twitched and he sucked in a breath. His reaction spurred you on, and you placed a gentle kiss on that same spot.

His groan was music to your ears. You leaned back just in time to see his cock get hard again.

“So soon, my love?” you teased, even as you reined in the need to reach out and touch him. “That’s impressive, even for you.”

“It’s you. You’re touching my wings and I—”

You cut him off again by tracing the lower edge of said wing, which resulted in his breath hitching. When you did it a second time, his voice came out as a whine.

“Baby, please…”

That ‘please’ was the sweetest sound you had ever heard. It wasn’t often that he would be at your mercy like this, and you were eager to enjoy every single second of it.

“Please what, my love?” you murmured, lips pressed against his leathery skin.

Cassian shuddered. His eyes closed and he didn’t give you an answer.

You ran the tip of your tongue up his wing, wandering so close to the most sensitive spot—the one you knew would have him coming in a second—but you didn’t go there. Not yet.

His hips thrust up into nothing as he moaned, and you noticed his hand shifting to fist his cock. You grabbed his wrist before he could.

“Oh no, baby,” you reprimanded, your voice soft and soothing. “You’re not allowed to touch yourself.”

He was breathing heavily, and his eyes fluttered behind his closed lids. “The other… the other, please.”

It took you a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. “You want me to touch your other wing?”

“Yes… Yes, baby, please…” His voice was desperate. “Please, touch me.”

“Will you keep your hands away from your cock if I do?”

He nodded and extended the left wing as much as he could, ready for you to do as you pleased.

“Good boy,” you crooned softly.

Letting go of his wrist, you waited a moment to see if he would try to reach for his leaking cock again. When his hand stayed on the mattress, you climbed over him to move to his other side.

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips when he didn’t touch you. Normally, he would have helped you, gently holding your waist or thighs to accompany your movement, but he was probably too worried that you would stop if he did that now.

You made sure to reward him. You began by leaving kisses and kitten licks on the entire surface of his beautiful wings, and the sounds that fell from Cassian’s mouth were the filthiest things you had ever heard coming from him—which said a lot since he liked to be vocal.

“S-sweetheart, please…” he panted. His eyes were open and fixed on you now, pupils wide and blown. “Fuck, I can’t— I need—”

You decided to give him a moment of reprieve from your little torture and gifted a kiss on that sensitive spot you had left untouched until now. His hips bucked and he tensed, and when your finger brushed it, he came with a loud moan, his seed spurting onto his lower stomach and powerful thighs.

But you didn’t give him time to come down from his high before you started all over again.

Cassian just kept begging.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings

Kinktober taglist: @thyellablackk @p1nkfluffysocks @maddieboo8 @a-courtof-azriel @whataenginerd @loviseamms @chaconnelatte @okaytrashpanda @scarsandallaz @velarisdusk

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for @monstersholygrail

A/N: You can read part 1 here and part 2 here. Enjoy!

The curse (part 3)

Demon (POV) x fem!reader || desperate sex, intimate

Your words kept spinning in his brain. He could still feel them burning on his frontal cortex as you opened a new book. “Because I’m in love with a demon who’s been cursed to never leave this store. And I’m damn sure I can break the damn curse so he can come to sleep on my fucking bed.” You were in love with him. In love with a demon… You, his sweet human, were in love with him.

He couldn’t figure out how that came to be. He couldn’t figure out how he made that possible. He was a grumpy asshole who always scared you (on purpose) when you arrived and made fun of your book choices. Even if he later on ordered more romance and supernatural book because it was what you liked to read more. But he would never confess to that.

And still you were there, trying to save him… because for some reason you loved him.

Fascinating.

He couldn’t stop watching you, just staring after your gorgeous face as you worked on the books, completely focused on it. It was the third time he caught you yawning when he decided that was enough. It was okay that you wanted to read everything relating to the curse in order to destroy it, but he wasn’t about to let you overwork yourself for him.

He might be a demon, but he was a demon that felt very human things for the very pretty human trying to help him. “I have a bed here, you know?” He deadpanned, leaning against the door frame trying to look casual.

You looked up from the old volume you were reading, “What?” Your eyes were hooded in a sleepy way, and that made something he didn’t know how to name stir inside his chest. His wings flapping behind him.

“You said you wanted to break the curse so I could go sleep on your bed, but I have a bed,” he explained as if you were stupid, his fangs biting his lip to try not to smile at your annoyed face.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you complained, focus back on the book.

“I know…” He told you, approaching the table you were on very slowly. “But I want to see you on that bed. Preferably naked,” he whispered against your ear, making you let out a screech because of the surprise of having him so close.

He laughed loudly as you scowled at him. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Whatever you say,” he let out between chuckles, wiping away a tear running down his cheek. “Come on, you are tired, let’s go to bed and we can continue this tomorrow,” he tried softer this time, a hint of worry permeating his words.

“Naked?” You teased.

He tried to be good, he really tried, but you were asking about sleeping naked next to him and he was nothing but a demon. A very horny demon. “Do I need to touch you again so you remember what happens when I have you naked?”

The smirk playing on your lips was enough to make him hard as a rock, and the way you whispered: “Mmmm… Maybe I need a reminder,” turned his blood on fire.

“You do, huh?” He teased back, his wings flapping a bit on his back as he approached you, helping you stand up and pressing his hard body against your soft one.

“Yes, please…” Your plea ignited something inside of him that was long dormant.

He grabbed you by the waist, unable to control himself, and used one of his spells to teleport you to bed. You fell backwards as he fell on top of you, your mouths meeting in a frenzy of kisses. His hands tried to touch skin, roaring when he couldn’t touch you fully because you were still dressed. You were giggling as he growled at your clothes, pulling at them until his fingertips burned holes through them, pulling and pulling until they tore and you were exposed to his hungry eyes.

He touched every single part of you he could, until he felt dizzy, almost drunk with desire for you. He could smell your pleasure. He could smell how wet you were for him. And it only made his own arousal grow higher, his brain spinning as he licked and nipped at your skin.

He was desperate, he wanted to touch you but he was scared he could hurt you in any way. “Ride me, little human,” he whispered against your ear.

You moaned as he manhandled you until you were straddling his hard on, his wings trapped under him and your hands pressed against his chest. You were rocking your hips to drive your pleasure higher, and he couldn’t be more happy with it.

He lasted very little like that, your luscious body over him, driving him insane, but your movements too controlled, too slow. He needed more. So he took it. He grabbed your hips with strong hands, his claws picking at your skin as you moaned his name and threw your head back, looking magnificent. But the way your pussy twitched was what gave him the signal you craved the movement, you craved the savageness inside of him.

He pressed you down harder, pushing his hips up at the same time until you screamed. And then he did it again and again, helping you move over him as you rode his dick like a Valkyrie going into battle. He had never seen anything as beautiful as you in that moment.

Your orgasm was a loud, shouting his name at the top of your lungs as he roared his own release, his thrusts erratic as he pushed every little bit of his essence as deep inside of you as he could. The way you smelt at the peak of your passion drove him completely insane. But the way you smelt right after you came and he filled you with his come? Absolute ambrosia.

He was still breathing hard when you whispered: “I can’t forget you if I don’t leave, can I?” You were half asleep against his chest, but the idea of the curse affecting you in that way had him almost jumping out of the bed. Your body resting on top of him was the only thing stopping him from running out. “Hear me out, you were worried the curse could hurt me, but I’ve been here for hours and it hasn’t done anything, so I think it’s safe for me to stay until we figure it out.”

He tried to hold back a growl, but his voice was a low rumble when he blurted: “I won’t let you be trapped here the same way I am.”

“Lucky you aren’t the one deciding it, so suck it and go to sleep,” your tone didn’t leave space for arguments and he could do nothing but to hug you closer as you fell asleep against his side.

He really needed to face the curse, didn’t he?

Fuck.

Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

[seneon]

ESCORT ──── shinji hirako x fem! reader. ib chase atlantic's escort. fluff + mentions of alcohol. wc of 600+

thinking about captain shinji hirako who would most definitely bribe or pay or do whatever it takes just to have you in the fifth division. he'd be so desperate about it, even go on his knees just to recruit you into the squad that he takes charge of. and for what reason?

the mere sole reason that you miraculously stole the heart of the captain while he came down to shin’o academy to demonstrate kenjutsu for the students. you just so happened to be one of the students that the hirako had to personally teach.

as beautiful as you can be and as bright your smile can shine, it only took a few hours for the blond-haired male to fall under your spell. but you never even put a spell on him in the first place. all you did was breathe, exist, and learn as shinji teaches.

as pathetic as the man can be, he doesn't ever show it. in fact, he does the opposite. he'd go all “oh look. it's the student girl whom i taught that sucks at swordsmanship.” like bro you did not just get on your knees to beg yamamoto to put the ‘student girl’ in your division…

he wants you to work for him and be under his wing, so he watch whatever you do. even better if he's seeing you make such a drastic change and progress ever since your academy days. not that he's a weirdo captain or anything that fancies a student of his, but your ages weren't that much of a difference. in fact, shinji is the one who ended up becoming a captain at such a young and admirable age.

“i can give you love for free, y/n…” shinji said during one messy night where the word sober left his vocabulary. all on his mind are fuzzy images of you.

“trust me, sir, she'd appreciate your love one hundred percent,” a voice said as they took away the bottle of sake in their captain's hands. the man simply looked up at the figure and looked back down, snuggling his drunken face into his arms. “you're kinda... pretty.. not any more beautiful than y/n though.”

“woah sir, thanks for the compliment. i honestly agree too, she's very cute, captain.”

the hirako glared at his subordinate who's helping him get up from the table so he can finally leave the pub with some guidance from someone of his barracks. “you keep her name outta your mouth, pink!”

“it's punk, sir. not pink.”

“shut up. only y/n can tell me what's right or wrong,” shinji's head wobbled just as his division member sighed and draped his long arms around their shoulders. they were oddly smaller than the fifth division captain.

“come on, captain. time to go home. y/n wishes that you return home safely.”

the voice of his subordinate is gentle and soft, so similar to his crush’s voice. he couldn't even tell what is going on right now, but he just lets his subordinate escort him home, not really in the correct state to think of anything else. although, his squad member uttering the name y/n made him all sweets and butterflies on the inside.

after such a night, the man wakes up in a frenzy, struggling to remember whatever happened last night and however in the world he ends up in his soft comfy futon without ever remembering how he got back into his bed.

he stares at a bone china vase for a few good minutes, attempting to search and dig for anything that has been buried by the headache that he currently has. but the more he stared at the reflection of the vase, the more he caught something at the corner of his eyes.

shinji shot his head at the few bags of items that laid beside his futon, a note of instructions on the items written down. he knows this writing. he out of anyone would've recognised this immediately. it belonged to you.

then a flash of memories became visible in his vision.

“THAT WAS Y/N?!?!?”

note. requested by @imaginingbleach. tumblr murdered me on the inside when i lost your request ask... i'll write an aizen piece soon trust

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[slayfics]

One of your Girls pt. 1

Hawks invites you over late at night.

650 words

You pulled up to the gated house, heart pounding, and fingers tightening around your steering wheel.

A huge mansion came into view and the fact that this wasn’t a dream finally set in.

Fuck, be cool, you cursed at yourself silently. But the shock you felt when first seeing the message from Hawks’s official hero account set in once again.

[Hawks]: Ok, so what if I am a little mad?

He was referring to your comment earlier in the day. You and Hawks happened to be the two heroes closest to a distress call. The villain was easy, and a quick capture with you both on the scene.

With Hawks on site, it was no question at all that a large number of paparazzi showed up. That wasn’t shocking at all, a usual occurrence for the popular hero.

The astounding part to Hawks was, they weren’t all focused on him. A larger part of the paparazzi stopped to take photos and ask for statements from you.

You were a recent graduate from U.A., known to be overly provocative with your hero work. You had risen in the popularity charts fast, and Hawks was seeing it with his own eyes for the first time.

Paparazzi swarmed you and you fed them well with sensual poses and suggestive remarks. Hawks watched, arms crossed, nose scrunched. The cameras flashed as reporters and fans continued to fawn over you.

Deciding that was enough you bid your adieu and strutted away. Taking notice of the sour look on Hawks's face for the first time.

“What’s the matter number two? Did I take the wind out from under your wings?” You asked teasingly.

Hawks gave a scoff, “Nah you’re just the pretty new thing for the time. The same thing happened when Mount Lady first came on the scene. Enjoy it while it lasts,” he remarked.

“Sure sounds like you’re upset. You know if you’re so mad you can take it out on me later,” you said with a wink as you departed.

Leaving Hawk's mouth agape, and eyebrow raised, at your provocative invitation.

The incident led to your phone sounding off with a notification in the dead of night.

[Hawks]: Ok, so what if I am a little mad?

Even reading the message several times over you still couldn’t believe Hawks really looked up your hero account and sent you a message. You were fast to respond with your usual flirtatious personality.

[You]: I’d be more than happy to come collect my punishment 😉.

Hawks’s next message was simple. An address. You blinked your eyes expecting to be seeing things. It was too unbelievable to think the number two hero would be calling you over at 1am.

Frenzy ensued as you rushed about, changing out of your comfy clothes into sexy lingerie, fixing your hair, brushing your teeth. Your heart pounding faster with each action.

Putting his address into your phone you decided you had no more time left to pamper up, being that he was a solid 45 minutes away.

[You]: Be there at 2.

[Hawks]: Sounds good.

The estate was unbelievable. You assumed it would be a big place given his hero status, but this went beyond anything your imagination cooked up.

Parked outside the gate you let out a breath, fuck ok. You uttered trying to calm yourself. Keeping your flirtatious confident demeanor was easy when doing hero work, one-on-one however was a different story.

The last thing you wanted was for Hawks to catch on to any of your nervousness.

This is fine, you told yourself. But your hands shook as you reached for your phone to text him.

[You]: How do I get into this castle?

Shortly after sending the text, the gate slowly pulled open.

[Hawks]: Buzzed you in. Come up, little hero.

One more deep breath and you drove through the gate following the driveway up. Unsure of what kind of night you just signed up for.

sinners: @unofficialsapphire @mintsbubbletea @starieqq

[koji-haru]

Preoccupations

[Merry Christmas @inubaki!! I hope you'll like your gift!! ❤️]

The design they had for the first human had always been beautiful; smooth, perfect skin blessed by the richness of the sun, warm, brown messy locks that looked temptingly soft to the touch, beautifully long and tall. But as soon as the first human took his first breath and saw the world for the first time through eyes of pure gold, more precious than any treasure in the universe, Lucifer knew then that his heart yearned for this perfect being. Everything about this human was simply perfect. The way his eyes were wide with pure innocence and wonder, ever so curious of the new life that surrounded him. How his smile was so sweet Lucifer could feel the rush within his being. And when he finally spoke? A voice more heavenly than all of Heaven’s choir combined. Yes, the first human was perfect as if made only for Lucifer, and Lucifer made for him. 

“Welcome to the garden of Eden, Adam the first man,” greeted Sera.

Adam. Even his name sounded like music to Lucifer’s ears, the perfect melody to his lyrics. And when their eyes met, rosy reds and silken gold, it was as if time had stopped and nothing existed in the universe besides the two of them. Then he could feel his heart beat, his blood in a frenzied rush all over his system, and slowly the sounds of the birds chattering in the background, the whispers amongst the other angels, the whistling of the tall grasses all returned just as time returned to its normal flow. Back to the way things were, except somehow, the world seemed to glow even more beautifully whenever his eyes laid upon the sun.

—-

Another day, another search for a particularly evasive angel. At least the garden was beautiful; the twinkling songs of the gentle streams, the way the clear waters glistened under the golden sun, the warm breeze that flew refreshingly through his robes. Without a doubt, the place truly was paradise. So despite having to do such a menial and unnecessary task that really had nothing to do with him, Michael didn’t mind it so much. If anything, it was a good break from his daily routines. He was starting to suspect that Lucifer was doing these ‘hide and seek’ from Heaven just so he could force Michael to ‘go out and smell the flowers’ whatever that meant. He always went out, every single day he had to do a full patrol of the garden to ensure its safety and sometimes, even venture out to the world beyond the garden. Really, he felt that there was no–

Oomph! Caught off guard, Michael fell unceremoniously into the stream as something launched itself towards him, its arms wrapped tightly around him in an excited embrace. Looking up, he was met with the purest of smiles, eyes shining brighter than Eden’s sun.

“Luci! You’re–!” 

The smile on Adam’s face dropped and was immediately replaced with furrowed brows, slightly down turned lips and a slight tilt of the head as he sat up and pulled away from Michael. 

“You’re not Luci,” said Adam, a tinge of disappointment evident in his voice. 

“No, I’m not,” Michael confirmed, sitting up slightly. “I’m Michael.”

“Are you an angel too?” asked Adam as he eyed the six blue white wings sprawled out and drenched in the stream. “Lucifer has six of those too, except his are red and white.”

A small smile slowly began to adorn Michael’s face at the adorable sight in front of him. “Yes, I’m an angel too. Actually, I’m Lucifer’s brother.”

“Brother? What’s that?” Adam cocked his head to the side, the word new and unfamiliar to him. “Can I have one too?”

“It’s when, hmm…” Michael took a pause to carefully think of his answer. Did siblings work the same with humans? “Lucifer and I are brothers because we came from the same star. Similar to how wolves are brothers, or sisters, because they come from the same mother. And I can’t just give you one, Heaven will have to decide on that.”

“Oh,” was Adam’s short response as mulled over the new information he had just learned, trying to make sense of it. 

Then a set of curious eyes travelled from Michael’s wings towards his face as Adam leaned closer down, a feather light finger tracing the little gold stars that travelled across Michael’s cheeks down to a cheek, where he poked at it as if something was amiss. 

“Um…” Michael stilled on the spot, unaccustomed to such intimate contact.

“Then how come you have these on your face instead of the red ones that Luci has?” asked Adam as he poked at Michael’s cheek repeatedly. “The animals here look similar to their brothers and sisters.”

“Well, first please get off of me.”

The short distance between them accompanied by the fact that Adam was sitting on top of him was sending odd, messy signals into Michael’s brain, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It was unnerving to him how he didn’t mind at all this new, unfamiliar sensation. And so, with nervous, hesitant hands, he pulled Adam’s off of his face with one hand and used the other to gently push the human away from him so he could sit up. But just as he was about to finally sit up, the weight on him suddenly disappeared as a swift flurry of red and white  rushed past him, scooping Adam up and away. 

A gasp followed by soft giggles of, “Luci!” told Michael that Adam was fine and who the sudden visitor was. To his right was his brother, both arms tightly wrapped around the human, all six wings flared out and spread wide, a possessive lour sent his way which would swiftly turn into a melting gaze as soon as he laid eyes on Adam. 

Odd. Lucifer had never acted that way towards Michael before, all so defensively territorial. It wasn’t like he was any danger to Adam at all. Though, he did feel a pang of…something when he saw Adam sweetly laughing, so happy to be carefully wrapped by his brother’s embrace. The weight and warmth that was on top of him moments ago now suddenly felt like some sort of lost treasure, the pleasant presence far too distant for his current liking. It was all rather disconcerting to him, all these sudden influx of feelings. But then again, Adam’s skin against his felt rather…nice. Michael looked down at his hand, the sensation from earlier a ghostly kiss that he craved more of.

—-

“It’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” grumbled Lucifer as he sat close to Adam, trying to not-so-subtly disrupt the human’s work. 

“I told you before, Luci, your hair’s too short,” Adam tried to reason as he pushed away Lucifer’s meddling hand from the braids he was doing on Michael’s hair. 

On the other end, Michael was in bliss. He couldn’t visit the garden as often as Lucifer did, but whenever he did, Adam always showered him with affection. And while he hated the fact that Lucifer got to spend more time with Adam overall, it seemed that being busy and playing the exhausted card got him special treatment sometimes. In a way, it was almost worth it. Almost. If only his brother would stop trying to disrupt the precious time he did get to have with his human.

It took a while, a lot of wing pulling, setting one another on fire, and some discussion leading to a begrudging compromise before the two brothers could finally accept that they couldn’t keep the other from their beloved human. And as much as both of them would rather have Adam all to themselves, at the very least it was only the two of them who frequented the garden. Any other angel who dared showed interest in the garden was either suddenly given a new role or duty by Michael, where sometimes they ‘take too long’ to complete their new duties; or simply scared away by Lucifer, never to be seen again. 

Lucifer managed to slip hand between Adam’s hands and grabbed onto a golden lock of Michael’s hair, harshly pulling on it. 

“Ow!” cried out Michael, one hand reaching out to stop Lucifer’s petty assault. “Let go!” “No!” Lucifer adamantly refused. They had spent most of the day with Michael being so snug to Adam, with Lucifer feeling like some sort of third party. He should be one snuggling so comfortably on Adam’s lap! Not Michael, but him! He was first after all!

“Lucifer, don’t be mean!” Adam tried to calm the angry angel, but soon resorted to gently cupping Lucifer’s face when words didn’t seem enough. His soft golden eyes looking directly at Lucifer’s own quickly calmed down the fire in the small angel’s eyes.  “Calm down, okay?”

A huff and pout. No matter how annoyed he got, Lucifer could never truly say no to his human. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up and end up empty handed. So, he did as Adam asked and let go of Michael's hair and instead took hold of Adam’s face, pulling the human into a soft, chaste kiss. A little compensation for having been disregarded. 

The lovely red that quickly blossomed on Adam’s cheeks was worth the icy glare that he felt piercing through his body from Michael. He was sure things were going to end up difficult for him once he returned home to Heaven, but that was definitely worth the price for Adam’s first kiss. 

—-

Adam sat quietly by the river, kicking little splashes of water everywhere as he tried hard to keep his spirits up. All he needed was patience. Surely Karael would arrive soon. Though, he had been waiting for a long time now. Adam and his new angel friend were supposed to meet by the river just before the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and yet, the sun had already begun its journey down towards the horizon and still, Karael could not be found. The angel seemed so excited as well to spend time with him. Maybe Adam had gone to the wrong place again? 

“Adam?” 

A familiar voice called out to him, and when he turned, he was greeted with a familiar kind face, speckled with little gold stars. One of the few friends he had that actually remained.

“Hi Michael…” Adam waved a little sadly at the angel, his shoulders drooped down with increasing disappointment. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Michael as he sat close to Adam, one hand wrapped around the human’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

A disheartened sigh escaped Adam’s lips, “Karael hasn’t showed up yet. She promised to show me something today…”

This always happened. Whenever he made new friends, they would always suddenly leave him without another word, gone forever without a trace. They wouldn’t even say goodbye. Adam felt the tears prickle his eyes as he lost more and more hope in meeting his new friend. He didn’t understand why almost everyone seemed to just disappear on him. Had he done something wrong? Both Michael and Lucifer always reassured him that he never did anything wrong, but that only left him more confused. Did the other angels just not like him? 

“Maybe she’ll arrive soon enough,” Michael tried to reassure despite knowing full well that that wasn’t the case. No other angel was allowed to get their unworthy hands on their precious human. 

“I don’t know…” Adam quietly admitted. 

“Adaaaam!”

Suddenly a pair of arms covered in loose robes enveloped itself around Adam’s shoulders just as a pale face with rosy red cheeks popped up brightly to the human’s left side. 

“How’s my cute duckie doing?” Lucifer asked as he rubbed his cheek against Adam’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael the residual golden stains on Lucifer’s robes. How sloppy. As adorable as Adam’s curious nature was, there was no need for him to see and question the odd splash of gold on Lucifer’s robes. And so, with a silent snap of his fingers, he burned away the damning evidence that clung onto his brother.

“Much better now,” answered Adam, a little smile beginning to form on his lips. 

“Much better now? Why? What happened?” 

“Karael hasn’t showed up yet,” Michael said with a shrug.

Lucifer slid down from Adam’s shoulder until he was lazily draped over the human’s lap. “Ah, who cares about her anyway? It’s her loss! You’re too good for her.”

“I agree,” Michael added with a nod as he snuggled even closer towards Adam. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

A blossom of red began to stain Adam’s cheeks at the words from both brothers as a fuzzy fluttering had once again started to go wild from his stomach as if pink butterflies were about to burst out of him. He wasn’t sure why, but it always happened whenever either Lucifer or Michael were close to him, like right now. It was an odd feeling, somewhat akin to nervousness, but better and much more pleasant. Either way, the day might not have begun so happily for Adam, but at the very least both Lucifer and Michael were always there to cheer him up and brighten his day. He felt so incredibly lucky to have the two as friends who cared deeply for him. 

The sky was a bright orange and the night was fast approaching as the sun began to sink in the horizon. In the past, Sera would’ve been a little worried about both Lucifer’s and Michael’s prolonged absence from Heaven. However, at this point, she already knew where the two could possibly be. The place where they spent most of their free time: the garden of Eden. 

As usual, Sera was correct in assumption as she stood over the trio sleeping on grass with Adam in the middle wrapped between the two brothers, encased in both of their wings. Sera did find it odd at the start, and honestly, she still did until now. But no matter how much she questioned and tried to reason with the brothers, both remained adamant about staying in the garden. And really, there was only so much she could do. A tired sigh escaped from her. She supposed Adam could use a friend or two, at least until they finished making the first woman. For now, she would leave the odd trio be. There was no harm to it after all. 

—--

It had been quite some time since Lucifer had smelled air that wasn’t stagnant and pungent, one that wasn’t devoid of life and joy. The cool breeze that ran fast through his silken locks had never felt more freeing as he climbed atop a fluffy cloud to sit beside his brother. It felt odd to him, to feel warmth. Warmth, not scorching, burning heat from beyond the deepest depths of the earth. It was a gentle warmth, a tender kiss from the sun so high up in the sky, so close to the place he used to call home. 

“I’m still in disbelief at what you did,” Michael said as he moved a little to make some space beside him, his eyes still glued attentively at the young, new world beneath them.

“Well, what else could I have done?” Lucifer retorted as he took the spot on the cloud offered to him, his eyes also beginning to scan the earth for a certain someone. “Besides, it’s not like you were entirely against it.”

Michael let out a weary sigh, unable to fully deny his brother’s implications. “Couldn’t you have done the same to Eve as I did with Lilith?”

“You do know Eve, right? That woman could not be persuaded to abandon her purpose,” Lucifer scoffed before his shoulders dropped low, weighed down by a sudden gloom, his ruby eyes in pained yearning as he found the person he was looking for.

Beneath the two brothers, far down below from the lofty clouds, was the beginnings of a small village. New humans that Lucifer had never seen before, though each one had an odd air of familiarity to them, whether it was the colour of their skin, the shades of their hair, or the shine in their eyes. Each one of these new, unfamiliar humans had a little piece of their beloved Adam embedded in them, one that Lucifer had been denied of by Heaven. And amongst the slowly growing crowd, was a tall man with skin marred by untold hardships, flesh grown stronger from endless necessary work, lines amongst his face that held stories of the past. But despite all these changes, those eyes remained ever the same: a gold more radiant than the sun, far more precious than any treasure that could ever be found in all of Heaven, Hell or Earth. 

“Why did Adam have to leave the garden too?” sighed Lucifer, his heart breaking at the sight beneath him: his beloved having a life of which he had no part in. Suddenly, a thought popped up in his head. Was it a little sinister? Something an angel should never think of? Perhaps. But Lucifer supposed that didn’t matter to him anymore. He was no longer an angel after all. 

“They’re mortal, right?”

“..yes?” Michael eyed Lucifer suspiciously, though he was willing to hear him out. “Why are you asking?”

“And they no longer have the protection they had in Eden, right?” Lucifer continued.

“Lucifer, I'm not killing Adam just so he could come to either of us quicker,” Michael said resolutely. 

“What? No! Not Adam!” Lucifer refuted absolutely, eyes widened in shock that his brother would even think of that. “I meant Eve! Eve!!”

A contemplative look washed over Michael’s features as he mulled over Lucifer’s suggestion. As an angel, he couldn’t directly intervene with human affairs nor could he communicate with them personally ever since the incident in the garden. Lucifer, however, no longer had obligations to Heaven, though he had been cursed to remain in Hell for the rest of his eternal life. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t loosen those chains a little once in a while. 

“Hm, Earth is quite a harsh place. Not very safe for fragile, mortal humans,” Michael mused loudly. “An unfortunate accident or a lethal animal attack is bound to happen soon.”

Michael gave Lucifer a calm look redolent of malignant mischief. “I heard some snakes are venomous…and deadly.”

“Really now?” Lucifer queried, his tone in playful high pitches. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind~.”

—-

“Is he dead yet?” Lucifer asked as he lazily laid on the cloud, his head barely on the edge. 

Sitting beside him, was as usual, Michael, his expression impassive and unreadable as he observed the now large and steadily growing human village.

“Unfortunately not.”

Lucifer let out a loud groan, stretching all of his limbs before letting them fall limply to his sides. “Eve died a long time ago, and it’s almost been a millennia since he had left the garden.”

He rolled over so that he was now laying on his stomach, his side flush against Michael, before suddenly sprouting up, voicing his anxiety aloud. 

“Are you sure he’s mortal? He didn’t eat the fruit, what if? Oh, no! What if–!” he gasped dramatically, one hand over his mouth, the other grasping onto Michael as he shook him urgently. “Michael! Go get your sword, we’re taking matters into our own hands!”

“Lucifer calm down,” Michael calmly reassured his brother as he tried to pry Lucifer’s claws off of his arm. Though, after realising that words were not enough to calm his brother down, Michael then opted to simply grab Lucifer’s face and forcefully tilted it down towards a particular spot in the village. 

“Look carefully,” he said, “Do you see Adam?”

With his face squished and held onto place, Lucifer had no choice but to focus his eyes towards the direction he had been turned to. He squinted and squinted, readjusting his eyesight to see more clearly until finally, it landed on a frail figure with ashen hair, sun-kissed skin marked full of a lifetime of adventures, and surrounded by a loving crowd. If it were anyone else, they might have not recognised him, but Lucifer could never ever forget the eyes of the one that stole his heart. No matter how much time had passed, those eyes remained forever the same. Sure, they looked far more hardened than the first time he had seen them, the golden glow in them a little more jaded, but it still belonged to the first man. Their precious Adam. 

Taking Lucifer’s silence as affirmation, Michael let go of his hold on Lucifer, letting him hang in a trance. “Don’t worry, Adam’s not immortal. He’s aging, and I’m sure he’ll be truly home soon. Just give it some time.”

“Ooor we can speed up the process,” Lucifer jokingly suggested, but also was half serious. Surely Adam wouldn’t mind it so much if they freed him from his feeble shell sooner than time would. 

“That would be nice, but no,” Michael shut down Lucifer’s suggestion, knowing fully well that his brother would act on it if he so much as gave a hint of approval. “We’ll play it safe this time. He’ll come to us eventually. He has to.”

—-

Lucifer sat stupefied in the embassy at the sight in front of him, an odd concoction of awe, incredulity and indignation slowly simmering within him. Sitting right across from him was none other than the love of his unending existence, his Adam in all of his golden beauty. It seemed that the afterlife had returned his youthful appearance, one that was strikingly similar to the look he had back in the garden. But that wasn’t what truly captured his full attention. He didn’t know it was possible, and yet the proof sat so casually in front of him. Somehow, his human had become even more beautiful, going beyond perfection. The way the soft golden glow of his halo illuminated his face like a loving caress, those pair of shimmering gold wings so large that they easily reached the ground, those loose white, lilac and gold robes that hid his form so teasingly; just the thought of being the privileged one to unravel it like a gift and see the perfection hidden beneath it sent pleasant shivers down Lucifer’s spine. It had been an eternity since he felt such sublimity, and he had only been close to Adam’s presence. He could only imagine…

Another important matter, however, caught his attention. His human was now an angel, and that meant that his angel now resided in Heaven. That was a problem. Another glaring problem was the fact that his brother, Michael, was very comfortably snuggling against his angel! 

“How long have you been in Heaven?!” Lucifer let out an anguished cry as he stood up, slamming both hands on the long table separating him from the two angels. 

“Hmm, when did I first arrive in Heaven again?” Adam wondered aloud, his chin rested atop of Michael’s soft golden locks. 

“I’d say, maybe, a few months ago?” Michael answered, a curled finger resting against his lips in thought. 

The sound of Adam’s angelic voice would’ve sent Lucifer in catatonia with how velvety sweet it felt in his ears if it weren’t for that fact that he had just found out that Adam had died and gone to Heaven months ago, and he had no knowledge of it the entire time. 

Blood red horns pointing to the sky sprouted from his skull, a raging fire in between them, his spiked tail swishing impatiently behind him as his anger slowly reached its boiling point. The sight of both his Adam and Michael being so close to each other in front of him not helping to calm him down. A void like shadow loomed before him, gradually increasing in both size and intensity the more he leaned forward, directing an aggrieved glare towards his brother. 

“All this time! You had Adam all to yourself?!” shouted Lucifer, the fire between his horns flaring up with every intonation. “How is that fair?!”

On the other hand, Michael seemed unaffected by Lucifer’s display of fiery rage, one hand reaching up to gently pat Adam’s head in reassurance. He knew his brother could be rather emotional, especially when it came to the first man. Other than that, he was harmless, at least to both him and Adam. 

“Adam had to first learn how to be an angel, and setting a meeting with you including Adam took far too long to be approved,” Michael explained.

“Clearly! You were hogging all of Adam’s time!” Lucifer argued, his legs bent and ready to spring towards his target. 

Michael wouldn’t admit it to Lucifer’s face lest he make the aggrieved Devil explode even more in anger, but he did enjoy having most of Adam’s time and attention during those first few months. There were some nuisances he had to get rid of by way of gentle reminders of their positions and capabilities, but it worked out in the end. For the most part, he managed to assign himself as Adam’s teacher and guide in Heaven, with most other angels having learned to keep their distance away. 

“We arranged a meeting as soon as possible,” Michael assured, though it was a little white lie. While Adam had expressed wishes to meet Lucifer as soon as possible, Michael secretly hoped to prolong their shared time together. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

A faint golden hue dusted Adam’s cheeks once both sets of eyes, one a deep ocean blue, the other passionate ruby red, landed and focused on him with an intensity that sent his heart in panicked beats. He wasn’t sure what he did, but ever since he arrived in Heaven Michael had been attached to him almost everywhere he went. The archangel’s gaze was always an ocean that he found himself lost and drowning in with its intense waves of affection. Despite the months he had spent so closely with Michael, he still hadn’t gotten fully used to it, and now, Lucifer himself was also giving him a similar look. A passion burning wildly in those fiery reds, a hungry heat promising both sweetness and spice. In a way, it was almost predatory, and yet, Adam couldn’t find it within himself to run and escape, instead, he was drawn to it. 

“I– uh,” Adam stammered, those red eyes sending an odd tingly feeling all over his body. He moved his gaze randomly towards the smooth table, a feeble attempt to escape that fervent gaze. “We did try to meet you as soon as possible…”

Adam felt a slight nudge from Michael, encouraging him to go on. “...because I missed you too, Luci.”

Luci. Luci. That nickname hadn’t been uttered in almost a millennia, and just the sound of it being pronounced by none other than his sweet angel sent the flame burning within Lucifer into a raging blaze. The intensity of the flames between his horns burned even brighter, all of his six red-white wings spread out wide in ardent excitement. Then, without another word, Lucifer released the tension that had been building up inside of him all this time and sprung onto Adam, colliding against Michael. The collision hadn’t phased him, however, as he simply shoved his brother out of his way and wrapped his arms tightly around Adam, nestling his head in the space just between Adam’s chin and chest. Oh how he missed his beloved’s scent, that refreshing earthy scent. And that warmth, the coziest he had ever felt, one that told him he was home.

—-

“Michael, what’s the meaning of this?!” Sera demanded, slamming a scroll down onto Michael’s desk as she tried her best to the anger that was starting to spill out of her. 

Slapped onto Michael’s desk was a golden scroll, one used by Heaven for official contracts and deals. Once signed, it was unbreakable lest they face unwanted and unfavourable consequences. This particular binding deal had only been recently signed, the parties involved included Lucifer, Adam, and Michael himself. 

“It was the best solution to keep Hell under control,” Michael coolly answered as he took the scroll into both his hands, one finger swiftly skimming over the details of their deal. 

“It says here that ‘Hell will not attempt any uprising against Heaven and will keep its citizens in check so long as their King, Lucifer, shall have his wishes granted, that is, the presence of the first man, Adam, in Hell for at least half the time of a year,” Michael read the important details of the deal aloud as if to make Sera understand carefully. 

“I know what the scroll says, Michael,” Sera said sternly. “What I’m asking about is the nature of the deal.”

Michael took a quick glance back down on the scroll and then back to Sera, a quizzical look on his face. “I don’t see a problem?” 

An exasperated sigh, bordering on a loud groan, left Sera’s lips as she leaned back, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Lucifer threatening to come crashing on Heaven’s gates was enough stress and trouble for her to handle, and now Michael had gone and made a deal with the Devil without her explicit consent? Yes, she allowed meetings between him, Lucifer and Adam in hopes that those talks would help calm Lucifer down, knowing the deep relations both Adam and Michael had with him. What she hadn’t expected was…this. And worse yet, Michael seemed to find no fault in this? 

“You need to calm down, Sera,” Michael said, leaning back on his chair, the calm air that surrounded him only served to further irritate the high seraphim. “And look at this at a more logical angle.” 

“Calm down? How can I be calm when you’ve simply signed Adam away to the Devil?!” Sera asked in irate disbelief, her wings beginning to flare up in slowly bubbling anger.

“Just for half the year. Like I said, please look at this situation more logically,” Michael explained again. “This deal would ensure peace between Heaven and Hell.”

“But Adam–”

“Will not be harmed by Lucifer, I can assure you that,” Michael cut in. “Adam will be safe. Plus, he was actually very much in agreement with the deal.”

That seemed to have put a sudden halt to Sera’s enraged panic, all of her wings slowly losing their fervor as they began to lower, the furrow of her brows starting to soften as her expression slowly changed into a more composed albeit confused one. 

“What?”

“Adam was very much in favour of the deal. He’s good friends with Lucifer,” Michael repeated and clarified with a soft smile, blue eyes looking kind and stern at the same time, a silent declaration that he had made up his mind and that there was no changing it no matter what. 

At that point, Sera knew then that there was no arguing against Michael. It wasn’t an occurrence that happened a lot, most of the time Michael was rather accommodating to her opinions and thoughts on a variety of matters. However, when it came to matters regarding the first man, then Michael could suddenly become particularly stubborn and a little autocratic. It was something that had been concerning her since the garden, only now did she realise, when it was too late, that his fixation with Adam might run just as deeply as Lucifer’s. And that thought alone sent icy shivers down her spine. Lucifer on his own was trouble enough, having the two of them go rogue would simply spell trouble for Heaven, something Sera would rather avoid. She took another glance at the golden scroll laid flat on the desk, the feeling of defeat weighed heavy on her shoulders. As much as worry clung tightly onto her core, Sera couldn’t recall a time when Michael had brought harm to either Heaven or humanity. Simply put, she just had to trust the archangel to not cross the line just like his brother did.

Without much of a choice, Sera reluctantly accepted the deal that Michael had already made with Lucifer and Hell. There were so many questions swirling in her mind, like how could Adam be so willing to this deal? How was Lucifer good friends with Adam? Hadn’t they been separated for over 900 years? So many questions, and yet, she couldn’t ask any of them in favour of ‘keeping the peace’.

“Well?” Michael asked, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“Please, next time let me know of the details first before you go deciding things on your own,” Sera replied, her tone exhausted and drained beyond measure. 

“Noted.”

—-

Flashes of lights in varying colours danced in the dark red wallpaper of the castle. On the plush black couch, Lucifer sat comfortably on Adam’s lap, snuggling his face in the nook of his angel’s neck, enjoying the mesmerising scent that he had dearly missed. Adam, on the other hand, was focused on watching the movie playing on the wide screen in front of them, one hand occasionally dipping into the popcorn bucket on his side. In the comforting darkness of the living room, the world outside, the burning landscape, the screams of damned sinners hurling violence against one another, felt so separate as if both Adam and Lucifer were separate and away from the chaotic mess that was Hell. 

Then, suddenly, a bright blue light shimmered into the room as a familiar pale figure casually emerged from it, causing Adam to briefly shift his gaze from the tv screen towards their new guest. Lucifer, on the other hand, was unfazed by the portal suddenly opening up in his castle, already used to its almost constant appearance. 

“Oh! Hey Michael!” Adam lazily waved his butter covered hands over, gesturing the archangel to come over and sit by his side as he moved the popcorn bucket away. 

“Hi Adam, what are you watching?” asked Michael as he walked over to his angel’s side, opting to instead shove Lucifer a little to make some more space on Adam’s lap. 

A whiny groan sounded in the room as Lucifer fought against being shoved by Michael, his pointed teeth biting into the hand that was pushing him aside. Michael, however, was unfazed by this ‘act of violence’, a small smile painted on his face as he kept on shoving his brother and made a comfortable enough space for himself on his angel’s lap.

“Ugh, why do you always have to budge in?” Lucifer groaned aloud, clearly peeved about having to share his Adam. 

“Because sharing is caring, dear brother,” Michael answered back. 

“I’m the Devil, I don’t care,” retorted Lucifer, sticking out his tongue childishly as he tried to push Michael away. 

Suddenly, the two brothers were pushed close together as Adam wrapped both arms around them, pulling the both of them even closer to him. 

“Both of you hush,” Adam lightly scolded as he hugged them even tighter, both of their faces now flush against his chest. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

A victorious smirk formed on Adam’s lips at the silence that answered him, knowing fully well how such intimate actions affected both brothers no matter how much time had passed. He could practically feel the raging heat on both of their faces through his clothes. 

“If you both can promise to behave throughout the rest of the movie,” Adam started, “then I’ll be sure to reward you both handsomely~”

The two seated on his lap perked up noticeably at the notion of being rewarded, both suddenly becoming far more amiable and compliant to one another. Was Adam going to regret having dangled a shiny reward in front of the two? Perhaps. But he had offered rewards multiple times before, his back regretting it the morning after most of the time. Still, that hadn’t and wouldn’t ever stop him from offering some more. Good boys deserved to be rewarded after all.

[something-wild-calls]

Getting another part out before Christmas, woo! :D

Previous Next

FIRST

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cody trotted alongside Jordan, who had a rather chunky brilliant red and orange feathered staffwyrm clinging to him. He met its flame-colored eyes, but couldn't guess what it might be thinking.

They passed through clusters of buildings that nestled in patches of greenery and perched atop small hills. Today was the fifth day since his encounter with Jamie in the woods. He'd completely healed, and not for the first time he found himself enamored by the possibilities that came with magical healing.

It was a pleasant town, with folks they met along the way waving good-naturedly. Most had curious glints in their eyes at the sight of the stranger among them, but none held any hostility.

He had to wonder... how long would that last?

He gently wrapped his arm under the tattered bag draped over his shoulder, feeling comforted by the lump that weighed it down. To take his mind off his worries, he asked, “No Jamie today?”

“She might be around somewhere.” The chief shrugged. “She hangs out at the edge of the valley most of the time. Or with the griffins.”

“Griffins?” Cody glanced at the sky, as if the mention of them would summon some of the large winged beasts. He caught sight of some in the distance, but he couldn't make out any details on them. “Are there a lot around here?”

Jordan nodded. “There's a huge colony living in the northern cliffs of the valley. There's something of a long-held agreement between our town and them—We work together to keep the territory safe.”

The blond boy smiled. “Huh. Neat!” At the same time, a chill ran through him as well. He considered asking on a further thought, but decided it would be better to hold off. The need to ask may not even arise, but if it did, it might be better to be in the Chief's good graces than a stranger among his people.

As they continued along in discussion, the houses and buildings began to thin out, with the paths being edged in more and more wild growth.

Soon the path they walked was alone in the wilderness aside from lampposts to light the way come night. A smaller path split right from the larger main road that led out of town, and Jordan took Cody down this way. The trees and plant life filled the boy with a sense of calm. Birdsong filled the air, and the quacking of ducks sounded, rising in volume as they walked.

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

Cody stood in the entry way as the door clicked behind him, uncertain where to go from here.

His host, Frenzy, hung his hat on a coat rack nearby and gave Cody a nod. Without saying anything or changing his expression, he strode into the heart of the house. The blond boy noticed his gait was uneven, and the man now gripped a tall cane in his hand that clacked softly on the floor as it matched its owner's footsteps.

The place was cozy, dotted with dressers, bookshelves, and small trinkets. In the living room, a couple of comfortably padded chairs sat invitingly, a coffee table shared between them. Against a wall was a couch with small tables on each end.

Cody turned to Frenzy. "Do you, uh... does someone else here?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Just me." He beckoned. "I'll show you to your room."

With his bag strap in hands tight and slicked with sweat, he followed the man.

"Here y' are."

Frenzy flicked on the light, and Cody scanned the room. It wasn't terribly big, but it still seemed like a nice place to call his own, at least for the time being. As he stepped in, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "It's nice here, Frenzy."

"I like to be open to company. If needed."

Cody looked toward the older man, who stood in the doorway of his new resting place. His hands wringed the bag's strap anxiously. "You, ah, d-don't seem like the type to like company."

For a moment, Frenzy was silent, and his expression shifted, though Cody still couldn't read it. Then, he shrugged. "No. Not really. But I don't hate it."

The boy hesitated, still unsure about his new situation. "Uh, do you mind if I take a moment to get settled?"

Frenzy nodded again, backing away from the door. "Go right ahead." He paused a moment, and Cody caught a flicker of something in his gaze. "My home is your home now... 'Cept my room. And my workshop. Stay outta those. Please."

Cody nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Frenzy gently shut the door. Cody listened as the sound of his steps and the tapping of his cane faded away, and once he was alone, he approached the neatly made bed and sat on it with a sigh. A clock ticked on the wall in the silence, and the boy looked around.

A window caught his attention. He set his bag gently on the bed and walked over to it, fiddling with the latch. He was happy to find it slid open smoothly, and no screen barred it. Leaving it open a considerable amount, he returned to the bed. Before sitting, he leaned over to see what kind of space was underneath it.

Plenty.

Good.

Finally he sat back on the bed next to his bag, and, carefully, he unzipped it. The pink head of Pari peeked out at him, the russet mark across her face beaming a false grin while her pale purple eyes shone anxiously.

Still, they exchanged a smile as Cody gently cupped her head in his hand. He leaned in close to her, glancing at the door.

In a whisper, he said, "Guess we're gonna have to be careful again, Pari." He sighed. "Just until I can find a good time and way to tell him about you..."

And what for?

The mental voice growled, low and hopeless.

Just to be back on the road, traveling endlessly to each town that will let you in only long enough to gather your senses.

Cody laid back onto the bed, his legs hanging where he'd sat them.

He tried to tell off the voice of doubt, but it persisted.

We should just thank Frenzy and Jordan for their willingness to help and move on. There's no point in staying.

Pari hopped onto the boy's chest, gazing down at him with concern.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a crouch on top of him, and she nuzzled his chin. A purr rattled in her throat.

At that, Cody couldn't help smiling.

How many people were bold enough to learn that imps could purr?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Introducing a new cast member, ~Frenzy~

Previous Next

FIRST

[libby-for-life]

Ok I’m officially convinced that there is some kind of drug in your works, because I am an addict! It’s incredible!!! anyway what I wanted to ask you about you know how eventually Lilith and Lucifer are sent to Hell for their actions, what if Adam was sent with them as to make sure they never rise up against Heaven. and think about it, Lucifer gets not one but TWO queens!

Why thank you. I do happen to put coke in the stories so that's probably what you're experiencing!

I really like this idea!

Adam died after a long and fruitful life. He had many many children and he was alive to see those children become parents and then grandparents and then great-grandparents. He died at the ripe age of 989.

He closed his eyes, his family surrounding him as he passed on. He opened his eyes to a bright light.

"Adam." A familiar voice said. "Welcome, to Heaven. We have much to discuss."

Adam didn't have much of a chance to gain his bearings before he was grabbed and hauled up. "What?" Adam muttered.

"Hush. Be silent." A gruff voice said and it made Adam look over to see a familiar angel. "Michael?" Michael gave him an unreadable look and pushed him forward. Adam was guided roughly toward a building. "Michael, what's going—"

Adam yelped as he was pushed into the building and came face-to-face with Sera. "Sera. What's going on? Why is everyone being so weird?"

Sera grimaced as suddenly chains bound Adam to the floor. "Sera!" Adam cried, a look of betrayal on his face as he was hauled up onto his knees.

"For what's its worth, you were meant for Heaven." Sera began as a gag was fitted over Adam’s mouth. Tears gathered at the edge of his eyes as he glared at Sera. "But I have to think of what's best for Heaven and that means sacrifice." Micheal picked up Adam and they all stepped onto some pad. Glowing light filled his vision as the room was replaced and they appeared in another room.

The air no longer smelled sweet and Adam coughed into the gag.

"Lucifer. Lilith. It seems that you have already arrived. "

Adam's eyes widened at those names and began to violently shake. No. No! Not them! Not the people who abandoned him! More tears fell to the ground as Michael jostled him.

"That's him?" A smooth voice said and Adam immediately recognized it as Lilith.

"Yes. In exchange for you and your people never going against Heaven, we give you what you've requested. Adam's soul." Adam tried to fight out of Michael's arms but his hair was harshly pulled making him whimper in pain. "Stop squirming. Be grateful. You're helping Heaven stay strong."

He risked a glance at the two people he feared the most. They both were glaring at Sera and it made Adam pale. 'They're gonna kill me.' Adam thought as he let out a choked sob.

"Then I suggest you hand him over," Lucifer growled. Micheal scoffed at his brother before holding out Adam like he was some sort of disgusting pet he no longer wanted. Lilith glided over and Adam flinched when she touched him but was somewhat surprised when her arms held him gently.

Lilith guided his head to the crook of her neck and Adam could smell Lily of the Valley, cinnamon, and something distinctly Lilith.

While his mind was still in a frenzy, his body relaxed in the gentle hold, her pheromones making him calm.

"Good. Now leave."

Adam could feel the angels leave and he whimpered at being left alone. He was always being left alone. Why? Why?!

"Oh, Adam. What have they done to you?" Lucifer crooned as he rubbed Adam's back. "Let's get these nasty chains off you." Adam held back more tears as Lilith and Lucifer began unwrapping him from the golden chains. Adam didn't understand the looks they were giving him.

They looked...soft and loving. Adam must be hallucinating it. His mind was trying to come up with an explanation and this was what he had always wanted so of course his mind went there.

Soon, all he was left in was a gag and the tunic he arrived in. His white wings shivered as Lucifer caressed them. "So beautiful." Lucifer murmured.

Lilith chuckled before taking the gag off. Adam gasped and immediately asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

Lilith and Lucifer looked surprised but then angry making Adam close his eyes in fear. "Is that what they told you?" Lilith demanded, her hand finding hold of his brown locks. It was gently rubbed through with delicate fingers.

Adam whimpered. "N-no. You hate me!" He cried but was silenced as he felt lips meet his wings, no, the base and it made Adam shiver in Lilith's lap. "We don't hate you, Adam," Lilith said with a sultry smile as she kissed his cheek. Adam blushed heavily. He was very confused but a warm feeling filled his belly and he couldn't help but hide in the crook of Lilith's neck.

Two chuckles filled the room. "Don't worry, Adam. We have an eternity to prove it to you."

[kaisntbreathing]

A call out to him - obey me Brothers EX reader

Disclaimer this collection of writing contains a very dark and sensitive subjects such as reality distortion, ptsd, panic attacks, denial, and mentions of threats and or violence so if any of that triggers you or makes you uncomfortable I suggest you swipe away now or scroll past this post and if you are still here reading it thank you very much for reading this.

THIS DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16

I didn't include Belphie for this because well he killed us in lession 16 so I'm still mad at him.

Summary: MC seeking out Brothers after having a nightmare of their death

____________________________________________

You couldn't breathe you felt like you were being suffocated in sand but you're being drowned or choked you felt his hands wrap around his throat like it was a handle until I felt nothing. You shut up up right almost flying out of your bed your bed sheets and blanket is now elsewhere in the corner of the room currently your mind was set on one thing and one thing only getting to Lucifer.

Lucifer

You could barely send you felt like you wanted to throw up your legs barely were able to take your way underneath your shaking knees you leaned on the wall for support slowly making your way over to the Avatar of pride everything was so dizzy your head was spinning your vision was spinning you didn't even know if you were actually in front of the door two feet away from you you swiftly open the door flying inside the room with a panic settling over you making you unable to walk or stand collapsing onto your knees you began hysterically sobbing holding your head in your hands

"LUCIFER! HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME HELP!"

"MC what's wrong? Are you okay what's the matter?"

You exclaimed loudly here making you hallucinate seeing things trying to grab you from every sort of angle who thrashed around unable to tell what was real and what wasn't Lucifer now who was in a panic frenzy as well his demon form fully showing out his six black raven like wings spread out his and his horns with their appearance and he was in The stance like he was ready to fight someone.

You couldn't speak not even a small whisper all you could do was shake like a leaf and hyperventilating as you shivered and shook, you weren't a very emotionally open person and he'd never seen you like this before so he was very unsure of what to do.

"It's ok MC, I'm protecting you now, your safe"

MAMMON

He happened peacefully sleeping in his room he's a little bit of a light sleeper but not just any noise can wake him up but when you came tumbling down the stairs panting and crying out his name he jolted awake.

"M-mammon help!"

Almost instantly he was by your side as you shook and cried as you legs gave out on you as you shook and looked up at him, he remembered that look from that today it was the same look in your of fear in your eyes that you had while he was holding your body while the life slowly drained from you, he'd never forget that day nor would he ever fully forgive Belphie for it.

"I saw that dream again"

"It's 'kay now I'm here ok? Your safe with me I promise"

LEVIATHAN

For his entire existence thousands of years of existing he had only felt rage he had never felt despair since he wasn't close to Lilith he didn't really mourn her death but he respected her.

He was a deep sleeper, that is whenever he slept (which was very rare since he doesn't need much sleep anyways) but regardless of he's sleeping or not if you call his name he's there, tail wrapping around you as he pulled you closer to him protectively.

"Mc? Mc what? Where?"

"I died again in my dream"

"oh...."

He remembered that day he remembered not being there soon enough to help you having to feel his back with you fading as his own brother took your life he fully didn't understand how they managed to bring you back from the dead aside from he knew that it was something to do with Barbatos.

He remembered the feeling of his and your back sizzling back to life as they brought you back from the grave he didn't show it at the time but he was very grateful that they managed to do so it wasn't the same without you around.

"Levi?..."

"Yeah?"

"Will you keep me safe?"

"I swear I will"

SATAN

ASMODEUS

She was their sister after all and his little sister.

He knew from the beginning that you were related to Lilith very distantly but I'll be it you were still related to her by some means.

So he would protect you with his life he promised when he made The pact with you, but he failed he couldn't protect you he remembers the day clear he wished she didn't but he did.

He remembered coming too late and seeing your dead limb body in Mammon's arms, cold and unmoving as the colour had drain from your face.

"SATAN HELP!"

He jolted out of thought as he heard your cry as you sounded so terrified as you bolted down the narrow and dimly lit hallway towards his room.

Seconds later he was there grabbing you as his tail wrapped around you as his true form leaked through.

You clung onto him as you trembled violently as you sobbed.

"Please...I don't want to die again"

"I swear I won't let that ever happen to you again"

He usually would be pissed if you woke him up in the middle of the night but when you're the one in needing of his help he's there.

"ASMO HELP!"

He felt the urgency in your voice as he rushed to his door opening it pulling you in his room as he looked down at you, he saw those fat tears rolling down your cheeks and you are disheveled look and you're terrified expression he couldn't help but not be mad.

"I've got you sweetie...oh you poor thing, I've got you"

BEELZEBUB

You didn't think as you had woken up from your vivid nightmare of your own death the traumatic scene that had replayed in your head so many times it would haunt you late at night and wouldn't let you sleep so you didn't think much when running to the twins room knowing that Belphie wasn't there.

As you rush down the hallways you called out to him hoping you hear you as you frantically voice to your fear.

"Beel! I need help!"

He remembers how he felt when he failed to protect Lilith and he had the same exact feeling when he saw that he failed to protect you, and what made it worse is it was his own twin brother that killed you.

But he couldn't hate Belphie for it, he just couldn't.

But he promised after that he would never fail to protect you again.

"I've got you Mc."

[rei-ismyname]

X-Comics Weekly Roundup

May Week 2

Some X-books certainly came out this week including the last (for now) cancelled ongoing of the launch books - X-Factor. As we come up on a year of From The Ashes no ongoings have been announced to replace them, and that's probably a good thing. The vibe I get from comic shop folks is that having a lot of average books dulls interest. I did say I'd never write about X-Factor but I really want to dunk on it, plus Warren experiencing public hate for being a bootlicker gives me life. To me, my X-books!

winged garbage ❤️

X-Factor #10

None of X-Factor made much sense and it was a total flop, totally deserved to get cancelled. It felt doomed from the start as a half-baked mashup of previous interpretations. X-Statix fully committed to satire and farce whereas this felt like it was considering it but couldn't decide. It led to attempts at emotional stakes right next to cynical and pointless character death. The best issue was probably the Chuck Hunt crossover and only because Beast was there ridiculing the premise. Worst of all there was a much better plot happening off screen - the Mutant Underground. I love Polaris and I guess she wouldn't even appear in this book if Havok wasn't angsting over her, so yay? I like that she dumped his ass for working with the US military and that despite him deciding it was a stupid mistake she's still like 'I love you but I don't want to be with you.'

Why TF would winged garbage join X-Factor in the first place? He owns 8% of it but how do they make money? I guess it doesn't matter now. Scott and Hank are chilling in Alaska and they're his boys. He's already incredibly wealthy and the US military tried to genocide mutants very recently. Dude quit at the end of the book, but I wouldn't be surprised if people don't trust him moving forward. I mean, assuming the events of X-Factor are taken seriously. 'Winged garbage' is probably the only thing I'll remember from this run, it's just funny. I'm glad that Frenzy, Cecilia Reyes and Pyro are still around, but they didn't get to do much. A lot of favourites are now unaligned and free to appear in other books - I hope Warren joins the X-Men and NYX/X-Factor's leftovers are smooshed together into a Mutant Underground/Morlocks book. Both are unlikely but I can dream.

GODZILLA VS THE X-MEN

Chuck empathising with Godzilla is hilarious as a concept though it makes sense in context. If you like Jim Lee X-Men taking on Godzilla in a mech, this might interest you. I'm averse to nostalgia bait crossovers on principle, and while it's an interesting angle on paper it's not really doing anything amazing. Marvel has the rights to The X-Files now and plans to do crossovers so I fully expect something like this in the future. Pretty much every monster of the week could be a mutant and Logan would have a new redhead to creep on. Scully might shoot him, though Mulder doesn't have much to do in a world where aliens openly work at the FBI. Godzilla looks a little embarrassed to be involved with this book tbh, and yes - I'm being cynical, but I know we can do better.

WOLVERINE #9

I really don't care about Logan but this scene is pretty funny. It's trite and not exactly cutting edge deconstruction but it'll probably piss off the grifters it's dunking on. That brings me some amusement. Logan does some stuff, snikt, bub, best at what he does etc. Actually, that's not true. He doesn't do much at all and the one fight he gets into he uses fists instead of claws. He DOES say bub, though, obviously. Can you imagine if he didn't? Uatu the Watcher would probably show up. Anyway, Department H are keeping an eye on him for unexplained reasons I'm not spending energy speculating about. If you're a Logan fan you're probably reading it already and if not, you're not missing much.

Phoenix #1 1

Slim Summers becoming Swole Summers

If you had 'Sara Grey is a mutant and has been alive all this time in space' on your 2025 bingo card, nice work. I appreciate that the issue isn't even pretending it's not a trick or something, instead it's the start of some time-breaking thing. Cable senses time fuckery and timeslides to issue #12, so I guess we'll find out then. I really enjoyed issue #1 of this book but I haven't discussed it since, and my wariness has been sadly accurate so far. Phoenix stories have been overused and mangled, though at least it's not a 'Phoenix comes to Earth for the third time this year and ruins everyone's day' story. Those were awful, like Phoenix Endsong.

Kieron Gillen actually managed to weld all the nonsense into a coherent narrative in Immortal X-Men/X-Men Forever/RotPoX. I didn't think it was possible, yet he pulled it off in a clever way to salvage some optimism from the end of the First Krakoan Age. I remain super impressed. That's going to be hard to follow at the best of times, but Jean and Phoenix finally worked out their problems and defeated the uber end boss super God. All the Phoenix visits and personality weirdness were explained with a closed time loop and a bow on top.

Where do you go from there, stakes-wise and narratively? What does The Phoenix do after it's done what it was made to do with Jean? Hang out with Scott Summers for a few months then go have space adventures, apparently. The thesis of the book is Jean exploring wielding this kind of power responsibly - helping people. They have done just that except it keeps backfiring and everyone is terrified. Thanos and the Dark Gods were underwhelming antagonists and Adani felt like a lackluster deuteragonist. Jean and Phoenix got a cool space hero crew together yet they mostly cheerlead (and thirst in Nova's case.) It's great to see problems solved with compassion in general, Jean doing good works the hard way, but failure hasn't really felt like a possibility to me.

The long distance psychic relationship is my favourite bit. Also, weird Krakoa mention!

The biggest danger with Phoenix in general (besides overexposure) has always been control. That thread has been absent and they're more powerful than ever, but it feels like an inevitability. Writers for solo books need to have an end point in mind, especially right now with the constant danger of cancellation. That probably means putting the bird on the shelf for a while and I don't want to lose Jean with it. Ideally, Jean and Phoenix would take some time apart, except they're 'now and forever.' It's pretty much a given she's not returning to Earth fully powered and she can't stay in space forever. Crossing over with Imperial or even leading into it with Phoenix as a cosmic wild card makes a lot of sense. In fact it would be odd if Phoenix wasn't a factor as the last we saw of galactic politics Phoenix was all they cared about. Solicits haven't given any clues there so I guess we'll see. Fingers crossed for Jean staying alive even if I don't know where she'd fit.

The actual issue is mostly setup for whatever trickery is afoot. Sara Grey is alive and a mutant living in a space mutant society, except it's not her and the consequences are so bad they prompt Cable to stop beating up future gang members. He declares he's going to see his step-mother, which is either distasteful phrasing or a hilarious way to talk about The Phoenix. New Krakoa gets a mention as something Jean 'doesn't want to disturb.' They're in the White Hot Room which has always had loose rules, so it's a valid concern. I really want to see it, tbh, and if it's harmed in any way I riot. I don't really have a recommendation for Phoenix 🐦‍🔥. If you're a mega Jean fan you're probably already reading it, and if you're not it might be a bit unfocused for you. Then again, that's true of X-Comics in general right now IMO.

Hellverine #whatever

I loved Akihiro/Daken/Fang's Krakoan arc, especially the relationship with Aurora. It was fun forward movement that earned its happy moments without sanding off the edges. Then he died in Sabertooth War, and instead of coming back with everyone else through The Five a demon grabbed him. Or something. So Daken is around doing stuff but he's basically Ghost Rider and isn't involved with mutant characters at all. Fuck that and this, for that reason. Maybe I'm letting what could have been stop me enjoying what is, but I feel like I've read enough Ben Percy for a lifetime. Hellverine is barely an X-book and I'm petty enough to write it off based on backtracking that growth and the relationships built.

Ultimate X-Men #15

Gorgeous, high concept, slow AF

I don't really count this as an X-book as it's a completely different genre and unconnected to the others. It's an Ultimate book, and Peach Momoko is happily doing her thing as ever but it's also the least connected to the rest of the world. No idea if it's meant to link up with the other 'save the world' books when the Maker returns. If it is it's really taking its time and is going to feel disjointed crashing a Japanese high school book into super future evil Reed Richards. Worth a mention though. There's a lot to like just don't expect fireworks.

Ultimate Black Panther #16

This definitely isn't an X-book, like at all, but Ororo is in it! It stands on its own merits and seems to be moving faster than UXM. UBP is pointedly staying in Africa dealing with African issues and I'm enjoying the loopy living Vibranium stuff. The character work is fun too, but mainly I just wanted to check in on Ultimate Ororo telling this guy to fuck off.

Probably the most exciting X-Men/mutant action this week didn't directly involve mutants at all. One World Under DOOM #4 had the titular ruler of Earth struggling vs Dormammu's invasion. @pedrocomicreviews has an excellent, maybe even definitive, analysis of the event and issue - I'm just here for mutant stuff. Turns out DOOM wrote some new spells, one of which is called 'Optic Blast!' That's right, Doctor DOOM optic blasts Dormammu then follows it up with 'snikt.' It's fantastic.

Thanks for reading folks! ❤️

[c0zmo-writes-archive]

Hello! Here are some notes/background info/etc on my Harpy Beetlejuice AU, Birds of a Feather! Here’s chapter two.

Chapter 2- Boredom

“It was hard to tell in the low light, but it appeared to be a translucent green color. After a few moments, her brain connected the dots. It was drool.”

Fun fact- all of Beej’s bodily fluids are some shade of green. His blood also glows in the dark, so he’s sorta like a glow stick!! A feather and flesh covered glow stick.

“You’re gettin’ all this stuff for me?” He was confused. Wasn’t he just some lab project to her? Why was she being so nice to him?”

Poor Beet has never had someone go out of their way to get things for him. My guy does NOT know how to handle care and acts of service being thrown his way. 

“Then his hand met the light switch. Perfect. He played with the lights for a bit, until his attention flitted to an open door. He dove to the floor and batted the door between his hands, eyes wide and pupils large. That kept him entertained for a good five minutes, before he got bored once again.”

Cat Beetlejuice strikes again. He’s got ADHD in this AU! I might be projecting onto these characters just a bit…

“He unfurled his large wings and jumped up, prepared to fly, but he misjudged how much space was between him and a large stack of loose papers. The force of his wings flapping sent the papers flying in a frenzy around him. The sudden stationery storm made him panic. With a distressed screech, he flew up and clung to the bookshelf. To his dismay, the shelf creaked and leaned forward, bringing him down with it.”

While his hand-eye coordination is pretty good, he has pretty poor impulse control and doesn’t really take a minute to think: “Will the force of flapping my wings send everything around me flying?” He also loses a lot of skills when he’s in a panic. Like basic reasoning. Also shoutout to alliteration. I fucking love using alliteration. 

“Dammit. Now Shilo’s definitely gonna kill me.” He tucked his wings back, slowly approaching the reason he was about to get his ass beaten.”

Shilo would never intentionally hurt him, not that he’s aware of that.

“Ok, ok. Gotta fix this. God, I wish there was something I could use to just glue this thing back together!” It seemed the lightbulb in his head hadn’t clicked on yet. After a worryingly long amount of time, he snapped his fingers and bounced up. “Oh yeah! Glue!”

Inspired by this scene in The Cuphead Show.

“The label read “Glow-In-The-Dark Glitter Glue: Neon Green color! (now with 98% less radium!)”

Just pointing this out because it made me chuckle while writing it.

“After a few seconds, nothing came out, so he bit into the top of the container and ripped it off. He squeezed the bottle harder. With a loud, splattery slop, half the glue bottle dumped onto the pages. Shit. That’s too much, isn’t it? He thought to himself as glue dripped onto his hand. He licked it off.”

Probably not a great idea to put the radioactive glitter glue in your mouth. 

“She stumbled over a pair of shattered glasses. Oh. That’s what that crunching sound from earlier was. Beetlejuice realized.”

Thankfully, those glasses were old and not the right prescription!

“Shilo’s shoulders and jaw tensed. She held her face in her hands and sighed. Counted to ten in her head. Did everything she could to not scream in the face of the harpy.”

When your new science experiment breaks one of the only rules you’ve set for him in a three hour span. 

“Beetlejuice tilted his head and furrowed his brow. What’s wrong? Why isn’t she happy? He wondered. He decided he’d point her in the right direction. He swooped past her and grabbed the sticky, glittery journal. He thrust it into her face with a smile. “Beetlejuice,” her voice was scarily quiet, “I’m going to ask you this again. What did you do?” Beetlejuice stepped back. “What’re you so pissed about? I fixed it!” He beamed.”

He has lots of trouble reading social cues!! He thinks he did something really great, he doesn’t know why Shilo seems upset at him :(

“Beetlejuice flinched at the loud noise and scampered away like a little rodent into the closest room with a door, which happened to be a dark bathroom. Shilo cringed at her outburst. She sighed and hung her head.”

Beetlejuice really hates it when he’s being yelled at due to a mix of trauma and sensory issues. Both Shilo and Beetlejuice struggle with occasional outbursts of anger. Shilo especially hates them. She doesn’t like feeling that she doesn’t have control over herself. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have a support system or someone to help her with her mental health.

“and dug through the couch cushions until she found a pen.”

She keeps writing utensils everywhere. Couch cushions, empty flower vases, drawers, lying down on the floor waiting for an unsuspecting victim to step on it and become great friends with the wooden floor…

“Maybe it was just the lighting, but Shilo swore she saw his hair and now ruffled feathers tinted crimson red.”

His hair changes color based off his mood, as do some of the feathers on the underside of his wings (primary converts, primaries, and secondaries).

“Shilo made them both sandwiches, as Beetlejuice kept trying to plunge his fist in the jars and smear condiments on the bread with his hand. They ate in silence, both feeling a bit better. Beetlejuice once again wolfed down his sandwich. Then the next one. Then the next one. Then he tried to lap at the grape jelly, which Shilo had to shut down.”

Beetlejuice isn’t used to utensils, and prefers to grab/dig through stuff with his hands. He’s also a pretty messy eater overall. 

“Shilo only hearing a chorus of happy chirps when Beetlejuice saw his dessert – a bag of live beetles, worms, and a scorpion lollipop.”

He loves his bugs!! Beetlejuice also makes lots of bird sounds.

“Stay with me again?” He asked. Shilo settled down next to him, and they took a similar position to the previous night, with his head resting on her chest.”

He likes this position because it means he can listen to her heart beating. He also likes to sniff her. But the first reason is less creepy.

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 9: Separate Ways

“Bat! Giant bat!”

“Monster!”

All around me I see the effects of Dr. Crane’s catastrophic plan emerge into a feeding frenzy. The gun is still in my hand; I’m not sure to think of that as a comfort or pleading temptation. No. Only as self-defense. Just because I’m guilty of justifiable homicide does not mean sporadic killing is called for. So instead I head to where opportunity lurks best- in the shadows. 

No one bats an eye to a calm, collected woman in a prisoner’s uniform. All the terrified citizens scream in fear as they point to the winged figure in the sky. Is that really Batman? I’d be lying if I thought seeing the masked vigilante for the first time was not accelerating. The cops are useless. It’s refreshing to see someone finally taking action.

“Callie! Hon, what are you doing here?”

Is that-? Oh!

“Hey, Ivy.” I hold out a hand in greeting to the green botanist. “I see you also took advantage of the prison riot. Is Nigma out too?”

She rolls her eyes and points to the bridge. “He jump-started a car and sped off.”

“He just left you here?”

Ivy chuckles. “I don’t need help, hon. I’m on my way to the abandoned Gotham Nursery. Care to join me? It’ll be fun!”

The idea of vacationing in a greenhouse doesn’t exactly sound as enticing as Ivy spells it. I just got out of Arkham. I can’t just run and hide while all this corruption is poisoning Gotham!

“Sorry, Ivy. But I have work to do.”

She takes in my words and seems to understand. “If that’s what you think is best.” Ivy squeezes my hand. “You’re sure you’re alright? Crane’s treatment hasn’t shaken you up too much? I mean, how have you not gone crazy yet?”

I… I have no idea. “Maybe… I’m already insane. Who defines sanity, Ivy? I just had to shoot someone. I’m not the same person now. Maybe I am crazy… But I’m still me, I think. Or at least part of me. What I do know is that one way or another I’m going to get back at those bastards that put me in here.”

Ivy nods. “Be careful, Callie. Stay in touch.”

With that she walks off to a nearby cop car, no doubt to seduce an officer to let her escape. Now I need to figure out where I should go. 

“Ahhhhh!”

No. That’s not just random screaming. It’s Crane. 

“Ahhhh!” The doctor screams in pain and now I see the horse trot through the fog.

Why is he limp? He’s only been gone for almost an hour and he already needs help. I did tell him not to go. It’s his problem. I need to get out… 

“Ugh,” I sigh deeply and look back at the horse, where Crane is barely conscious. Why do I still feel compelled to help? Because I still care. As much as I hate myself for it there’s still a sliver of empathy for the fear doctor. 

“Alright, fine. Come here girl.” I slowly approach the tense horse and stroke her nose to calm her down. “You’re going to take me to freedom.”

As gently as possible I mount the horse behind Dr. Crane. He’s still wearing that ridiculous mask. While trying to keep him from falling I grip the reins and urge the horse towards the bridge. Fear-ridden riots scream and crowd around us but thankfully the horse doesn’t spook. Now I see- Uh-oh. They’re going to raise the bridge! Warning lights flash as the police clear the area and begin the process.

“Please let this work!”

I nudge the horse with my feet and send her into a gallop. Closer… closer! Almost there-!

“Dear Jesus!” I cry as we miss falling into the churning water by a hair. 

The cops on the other side scatter like mice as the horse takes me into the dark streets of Gotham. I’ve gotten past this road block, now I just need to avoid the rest of the police. My mind flashes through a million different options. I’ll have to find a new job, a new apartment… But all of that can wait until I’ve dealt with the sleeping psychiatrist on my lap.

Right. Let’s go somewhere no one will look for two inmates: the morgue. Thankfully before I came to Gotham I was instructed about the city’s medical facilities, which included where most of the crime victims find new homes. Where the dead are kept. It’s far after hours and the dark windows that greet me when I steer the horse into the empty parking lot offer a strange sense of relief. For now I have a place to get a plan together.

“Crane, can you hear me?” I ask. The limp body merely slumps over and I see Dr. Crane’s eyes start to show he’s awake.  “I’m going to get you a wheelchair and then take you inside. I’ll be right back.”

Crane slouches against the horse and I slide off. With a little luck- Yes! Someone left a window open! And it’s just big enough to squeeze through. I grip the flagpole and inch up to the mode of entry. Just barely… I can reach it! I swing over and slip into the dark building. Obviously there are security cameras but I’m already a runaway prisoner. No use hiding my face. 

I sprint downstairs to the main floor and grab a wheelchair from the lobby; pushing the doors wide open and quickly sliding Crane off the horse into it. I give the noble horse a pat and send her off into the streets. Crane’s low weight makes it much easier to push him through the hall. We get to the back laboratory and I lock the door behind me. We have an hour at most until an alarm goes off. Time to wake him up.

“Dr. Crane, wake up,” I say bluntly and shake his shoulder. He doesn’t stir. “Crane! Up and at ‘em!”

He jolts from his sleep and in surprise nearly falls out of the chair. His eyes try to scan the dimly-lit room while also trying to stand- though failing miserably.

“Where the Hell-?” His frantic eyes flash to where I’m standing. “Dr. Prentiss? What- Where- How-?”

“Whoa whoa, calm down motormouth. You’re safe, for now. Mind telling me what happened so I know what to treat you for?”

Crane doesn’t answer right away. He just keeps staring at me. Not always directly, though. Almost as if he’s seeing into another reality. Or maybe it’s just the drugs he’s been on this week.  Eventually he looks down at his chest and feels through the tan poncho covering him.  

“I was… tasered. By Ms. Dawes,” he mumbles.

I stifle a laugh. “T- Tasered? The Scarecrow was taken down by a taser? Someone should have gotten that on tape!”

He glares through the burlap mask and I snatch it off to see his annoyed frown. “You try getting tasered, Dr. Prentiss! Try to walk after that! I guarantee it’s not as pleasant as you think-!”

Suddenly his eyes go feral and Crane cuts himself off to stare at the corner. Has he totally gone off the deep end or is-? Ah. I see. He must have breathed in some toxin earlier. Like me he must be building a tolerance but can still see things. 

I kneel down next to him and lean in. “What do you see?”

Crane hastily attempts to remask his boldness but the damage is done. His wide eyes do little to convince me. “Hm?”

My eyes narrow with slight delight and mockery. “What do you see when it’s your turn to face fear? What is it that keeps Dr. Crane up at night?”

He bares his teeth and grips the chair’s arms. “If I wasn’t still recovering I would seriously consider giving you another dose of toxin!”

His words slide off me like water on oil. Still not too bonkers to crack, I see. The idea of knowing the Scarecrow’s fear still itches at my brain but that will have to wait. In terms of good spirits I pass him his glasses, which he stiffly yanks out of my hand. “Smart, Dr. Crane. You remember that the threat of dying will not provoke me.”

Crane scoffs. “No joke. Your idea of using a morgue as a hideout says enough about that. Have a taste for the dead, Dr. Prentiss?”

I shrug and pull out a scalpel. “You could say that. Before majoring in psychology I thought of becoming a mortician. My own death anxiety is very low so the job seemed tempting. In this society today younger people see growing old as a bad thing, that it degenerates your health and limits your daily life. Staying young and young-looking is encouraged by ads and social media, while looking aged is more frowned at. However in other social groups, such as native tribes, growing old and becoming an elder is a position of honor and respect. For whatever reason we chose to think it’s bad. After my parents died I discovered that if one is at peace with their current life and stays connected to that inner peace throughout their life, then growing old and dying will come as less of a fearful experience.”

Throughout my small lecture Crane never interrupts, all the while regarding me with an introspective expression.

“If you are so passionate about death, why major in something that leans against it?”

I twirl the scalpel in my hand. “Too many… regulations. I did not wish to waste nearly a decade in a school that was going to lecture me about rules that are constantly changing, constantly making my job… harder.” 

He knows I’m holding back. We both know I’m not saying everything. But he doesn’t pry further. By now he’s fully standing and leaning against the counter for support.

“Now for the million-dollar question, Dr. Prentiss: Why did you bring me here? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen into a case of Stockholm syndrome-”

“Let me stop you right there.” I hold up a hand to cut him off. “Remember our agreement. We get each other out, we go our separate ways. My conscience is clear, nothing can guilt-trip me into helping you anymore. I may be a killer but I’m still capable of feelings. I got you out, Crane. Now I will leave you to whatever chaotic agenda you have planned.”

He tilts his head and walks over with somewhat stable legs. “Is that all?”

I fight the urge to bite my lip (my nervous tick) and decide to give the best-explained answer for my actions.

“I told you that you helped me grieve. But you did more than that. You never took advantage of me. You had me drugged and delirious and could have done anything to me. But you never did.”

The doctor keeps a straight and serious face. “I respect my patients’ personal space, Dr. Prentiss. All those perverted doctors who abuse their patients are on a whole new level of sickness. I do my experiments purly to inspire fear, not for my own amusement. To paraphrase your words, I may be insane but I’m still capable of… feelings, If that’s what you call it. I’m just not as soft as you are.”

At the same time I want to roll my eyes and beam in admiration. “Well… Thanks, anyway. I’ll leave you to your freedom then. Here, you’ll need this.”

When I hold up Crane’s mask to him he gives me a skeptical look before taking it; almost as if I’m allowing my permission for his shenanigans. We both walk back through the lobby and into the parking lot. Sirens ring throughout the cold night and I see more of the toxic mist drifting through the city; though Ra’s al Ghul’s plan seems to be apprehended because the mist is fading away. I’ll hear about it on the news tomorrow.

Dr. Crane and I continue to stand and stare into the night; avoiding each other’s glance, each calculating our next move.

“Will you stay in Gotham?” Crane asks after a while.

I sigh deeply and nod. “We both know why.”

“Very well.” He gives me a stiff mat on my back. “Best of luck, Dr. Prentiss.”

I don’t stop staring at the buildings ahead of me until I know he’s long gone, disappeared into the city to spread fear once again. Have I helped out a complicated acquaintance or aided in perhaps releasing another monster into Gotham’s streets? The other tugging question is if I will see him again.

Who knows. My priorities lie with smoking out the corruption in this city anyway. Now that I have been given a new chance I can’t take it for granted. In order to learn and infiltrate this city’s political and economic criminals, I must become one of them.

[starlight-shades]

Called Home to the Depths of the Forest Ch 3

• summary – Simon goes grocery shopping and proceeds to have lots of feelings

• rating – M

• wordcount – 4.3k

• warnings – references to Ghost's backstory, mentions of previous character deaths, mention of previous suicidal thoughts

• This is my first fanfic, so please let me know if there's anything I forgot to tag. Feedback is welcome and encouraged

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Leaving that morning had not been hard per se, but he hadn’t really known what to say. To Johnny, sure, he just gave him his usual nod and a bit of a grunt and that was that, but how do you say farewell to a child? To one you had only known for a day or two, but had unexpectedly come under your guardianship, and formed a hard and fast bond with? How about two?

Simon was still thinking about it as he stood in front of the village’s meagre offering of parenting books in their local bookshop. Alice, the older woman who owned the shop, was already familiar with him as he would semi-regularly stop in to pick up a new book whenever he got bored of the ones he had in his cabin (many of which he had already reread half a dozen times). He could feel her eyes boring into him, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce why. 

“Simon, love, why on God’s green earth are you looking at parenting books?”

She wasn’t known for being subtle.

“Needed something to read,” he rumbled back at her, a little more gruffly than he had intended. He liked Alice.

“Aye, I ken that, but why parenting?”

Simon shrugged. Liking someone only got them so far. He knew that this would send the village gossip mill into a frenzy, but his life wasn’t their business. His reputation as “brooding and mysterious” hadn’t been earned by answering questions.

 “Have you gotten someone pregnant, Simon?”

 That was laughable, for more than one reason. Instead of actually laughing, however, he just made his selection and moved onto the children’s book section (this did not help assuage Alice’s curiosity). 

 He grabbed books for children ranging from the board books for babies all the way up through chapter books with no pictures. Simon still had no idea how old they were after all. 

 Alice was still muttering to herself about him, but he tuned her out, instead directing his attention elsewhere.

 When he saw a book about famous artists, he added it to the pile with Johnny in mind. There was something in him that ached at the thought of the little ones curled up with Johnny on the couch as he read to them about something he loved. He could picture the feral smile that would stretch across his face as he added his own commentary to the short descriptions about Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo. Would Ailsa be interested in art? Would Duncan?

 Simon found himself thinking of all the different possibilities that stretched before them. They could be anything, like anything, love anything. And he would be there to witness it all. Like a gentle beast in his throat, he could feel Hope stretch her wings in welcome for the future.

 But like all good things in his life, this tentative joy could not last.

 His heart gave a stutter when he came across “Where the Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak. He paused, hand hovering over it. Setting down the books he had already chosen, his hands, only barely shaking, opened to the first page. There was a burning sensation behind his eyes, but he ignored it, mouthing along to the words as he slowly read through the book. 

 Simon remembered doing the voices of the Wild Things. He could practically taste the sounds in his mouth. His feet would not be the only ones stomping on the floor, and a tiny growl would join him in the rumpus. 

 This had been Joseph’s favorite to read with Uncle Simon. He had liked to read “Goodnight Moon” with his mom, and Dr. Seuss with his dad, but when it was Uncle Simon putting him down to sleep, he would always request “Where the Wild Things Are.” Sometimes, Simon would substitute his nephew’s name for that of the main character, and he could remember the little giggles that always resulted when he did that. 

 Shaking himself from his stupor, he closed the book and shoved it to the middle of his pile. He threw a few more on top, just for good measure (one of which was a cook book as he only knew how to cook like two things).

 Luckily, he had driven into town today instead of hiking, so he had plenty of room. 

 Alice looked like she had wanted to say something as she rang him up, but his continued silence seemed to be enough to dissuade her. At almost the last minute, a bookmark displayed on one of the end caps caught his eye. Noting the ladybird pattern, he added it to his purchases. He watched Alice’s eyebrows creep higher on her face, but she refrained from commenting.

 Simon knew that the book club she hosted would be rife with gossip and theories. Janet at the hardware store always caught him up on everything they said about him whenever he was in there. Whether he liked it or not.   Speaking of Janet, that was his next stop.

 He dropped off his haul at the car, and only spent thirty minutes sitting in the driver’s seat in silence. His shoulder where he got stabbed was also bothering him, but he resolutely ignored it. Simon had changed out the dressing this morning, and Johnny’s sharp glare at the wound told him that there would be a conversation about it when they put the little ones down tonight.

 His cabin was quickly becoming too cramped, and he needed to start making plans to expand it. From his experience building the rest of it, Simon already had a pretty solid idea of what he would need. 

 In those early days, he had fallen into woodworking. He couldn’t be around other people for very long, but he had needed something to do with himself. Woodworking, he found, was physical enough to engage him to the point where he could shut off his mind. There was no thought beyond the next phase of construction, or later, the next piece of furniture he needed. He could escape his own ghosts. 

 If he had seen that book when he had first retired, it would have broken him. Even still, Simon knew what the muzzle of his handgun tasted like. And the echoes of the past that he was getting now were reminding him of those tortured days. At least when he had actually been tortured, he had a goal in mind. 

 Oh how fervently he had worked to stay silent, to avoid giving into the conditioning that his comrades had fallen prey to. 

 But when he got out of the military, when he had retired the Ghost, there was nothing left for him. It took all he had to get through each day. Having a project had helped.

 And now, he was thankful for those skills. Because of them, he would be able to help Ailsa and Duncan. 

 For that, he would need lumber.

 “There’s a man I like to see!” Janet’s voice crowed out to him. 

 As he turned to where her voice had come from, he saw her standing sentinel at her till (only she was allowed to use that one). 

 Janet was a hag of a woman, with wrinkled, gnarled hands, and age spots dotting along her skin. Her white hair was wild in the bun she always had it tied in, but strands of it escaped and hung, wisp-like around her face. Around her wrists and neck were always rows upon rows of beads and baubles, which was an odd choice for someone who worked in a hardware store, Simon thought. 

 She had been his first friend.

 They had bonded over their shared disdain for most other people. Her son, a middle-aged man named Donald who also worked there always gawped at them when he saw them speaking with each other. Most people, he had gleaned, found her to be rather unpleasant.

 What had solidified Simon in Janet’s esteem had been when he had thrown a drunk man bodily out of the store when he had started threatening her for refusing to sell him anything. He had scared the piss out of the bastard, but Janet took one look at him, and a rather frightening smile had creeped across her face. From then on, whenever he came in, she would be the one to help him, answering his questions when he couldn’t figure out a particular problem he was having in his cabin construction. Once she tried to give him a discount, but he had refused. 

 “Janet,” he greeted. On his way from the bookshop, he had stopped at the bakery in town and gotten her a pastry. 

 “I knew I liked you for a reason, laddie,” she cooed, more at the pastry than at him, but Simon didn’t mind. 

 When someone tried to approach her register, her narrowed gaze shot up. A finger that looked like it could belong to a witch from one of those old fairytales stabbed in the direction of the other (empty) lane. 

 “Can’t ye see I’m helpin’ someone else?” she barked. Taking an eager bite of her pastry, red jam spilling onto her chin, Janet clicked on the walkie-talkie on her apron. “Donald get yer scrawny ass up here and help a customer.”

 After knowing her for years, Simon knew how to handle interactions with Janet. It was at this moment that he would wait, let her finish her snack, then tell her what he needed.

   Taking the last few bites, she spoke again. “Heard you were in town the other day. What are you doing back so soon?”

 “I’m expanding the cabin. Need to order some things.” She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t elaborate. 

 “Think we can handle that for you.” Licking the last of the jam off her fingers, she got out a pad of paper and a half-chewed pen she kept tucked behind her ear. “Alright, tell ol’ Janet what you need, and we’ll go ahead and get that ordered for you.”

 After detailing an extensive list of supplies to her, he added. “And put a rush on it.”

 “Aye.” Tucking the pen behind her ear again, she narrowed her eyes at him, studying him far closer than he was comfortable with, but he had long ago learned that this was something he would have to put up with from her. She was one of those rare people who was more stubborn than him. “You look too skinny. You need to eat more.”

 He didn’t but she always said that. 

 “I’ll take it under advisement, thanks.”

 Janet just glared at him. “Oh sod off, ye big British cunt.”

 He smiled at that. “Just give me a call when it comes in.” She was one of a handful of people with the number for the landline at his cabin. 

 That done, he quickly made his way through the next few errands. His car, an old Land Rover that looked like it had been through both World Wars, began to fill with toys (both for human children and dogs— he had no idea which the pups would prefer), more dishes, more towels (they were messy), and anything else he could think of. There was even one of those backpack (front-pack?) things you could strap babies to your chest with. He was covering as many bases as he could. 

 Deciding against getting clothes was a difficult call, but there were just too many factors at play. The biggest factor was the question of what size to get, but he was also worried about whether or not they struggled with certain textures like him. 

 Now, he was back in the grocery store, loading up now that he had three more mouths to feed (but from what he had seen Johnny could eat for three more people all by himself) Simon was overwhelmed as he stood in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. There were so many options. What did kids eat? The sugary ones were out of the question, but he couldn’t tell which ones would taste good. He usually just had tea for breakfast. 

 Simon knew that this much thought was likely unnecessary when it came to a decision like this, but he felt like he was on a dangerous precipice any time he had to make a choice when it came to Ailsa and Duncan. He really didn’t want to fuck them up. 

 “Can I help you, sir?” an employee asked as they approached him. He didn’t recognize her, luckily. 

 “Which of these is your favorite?” he asked. 

 She shot him an incredulous look. “Ehm, this one I guess,” she said, pointing to something with freeze-dried strawberries in it. 

 He put four boxes in his cart, nodding his thanks to her as he turned and left. 

 She looked even more confused now when she caught sight of his cart. And maybe to an outside perspective, the contents might be a little odd. 

 He had about a dozen different meat products (for breakfast and supper purposes—maybe the pups liked sausage with their eggs), a bag of bones that he had to make a special request at the butcher counter for (would they teethe? if not, he could use it for stock), three gallons of milk (one 1%, one 2%, and one whole), practically all of their stock of orange juice concentrate (he knew they liked it, and it froze well), six loaves of bread, and what could only be described as close to a metric ton of produce (mostly potatoes—they stored well in his cellar). There were also three bags of the sour candies that he knew Johnny liked. 

 Simon also had so many things that he could only guess what they were, but the cook book he picked up had called for them in some of the recipes he flipped through, so he added them to the cart. He was satisfied if he ate the same things every day, but he wanted to be able to feed the pups properly. There was also an element of not wanting to disappoint Johnny, but that was less relevant… mostly…

 After much deliberation and more bewildered looks from staff, he checked out and loaded the groceries into his car. 

 A rather brisk gust of wind blew with it the scent of rain on the way. A look up at the horizon showed storm clouds on their way in. Usually his joints would alert him to inclement storms, but he attributed the pain he felt to all of the stress he’d been under. It was also harder to pick out those usual aches when he had a stab wound in his shoulder. 

 Simon sighed, daydreaming about the hot shower waiting for him when he got home as he slid behind the wheel. It was a two-hour hike from the village to his cabin, but it was an hour drive back. The winding roads added more time than he thought necessary, but he also wasn’t going to advocate to the local council for a more direct route. Less traffic meant less people out in the woods. 

 Thinking back to the other night, it usually meant less people out in the woods. 

 At least the coming storm would wash away the blood in the clearing. He and Johnny probably needed to have a conversation about what he had done with the bodies, but if Simon was being realistic with himself, he probably wouldn’t bring it up. Better to let it rest, he thought. They were deep enough in the forest that it was unlikely anyone would find any evidence left behind. 

Simon allowed himself a small smile as he slowed along the gravel drive leading to his cabin. For once, he was glad to be home for more than the freedom from the attention he always got in town.

 The sound of the car door thudding shut echoed through the front yard. Ghost’s senses were immediately on high alert. 

 It was far too quiet, not even the warble of a bird.  

 His sidearm was still shut away in his bedroom, but he never went anywhere unarmed. Sliding his hunting knife from his belt, Ghost approached the cabin door on silent feet. 

 Adrenaline racing through his body, he pressed his ear to the door. Nothing. No sign of any movement that he could hear, not even Johnny’s rumbling snore if they were asleep. 

 With his back to the cabin wall, Ghost crept along the perimeter of the building. A glance through every window he passed revealed empty room after empty room. Luckily there was no blood that he could see so far, but it did nothing to assuage the pounding of his heart in his chest. 

 He approached the front door again, having finished a complete walk-around of the cabin. Ghost was about ease the door open, one hand on the knob one hand with the knife at the ready, before he heard a voice behind him. 

 “Si!”

 Whipping around, he only managed to stop the knife throw that was his automatic reaction, registering a friendly face before he was taken to the ground. 

 Two wiggling, yipping young wolves covered his face in a thick layer of saliva as they licked anywhere that they could get to. It took him a moment to fully comprehend the situation, and an even longer moment to process the very naked man standing over him, laughing his ass off. 

 Johnny was wheezing, he was laughing so hard. He had apparently just shifted back into his human shape.

 Simon could taste his pulse, the faint flavor of vermilion lingering in his mouth. Ailsa and Duncan had slowed, but not stopped their excited greeting, and he couldn’t bring himself to yell around them in that moment. This was the happiest he had seen them so far. 

 “They missed you,” Johnny was saying. “We were practicing our stalking, and you presented the perfect opportunity.”

 “Don’t ever do that again,” he seethed as calmly as he could, his racing heart pushing him to pursue rage over fear.

 The other man’s face fell. 

 “I could have hurt you,” he tried explaining, sheathing his knife once again.

 “Even if you got me, I could heal most wounds, Si,” Johnny argued, brow furrowing. 

 “I don’t care,” he snapped, stroking his hands over the pups when they startled. Trying again, he took a deep breath, gentling his voice. “I thought something happened, that someone had come to hurt you, or take them or— I don’t know.”

 Duncan whined, pushing into Simon’s lap. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry, dove, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he murmured into the baby-soft fur on his head.

 Johnny let out a long breath. “I’m sorry too, I should have thought that through better. Just wanted to have a bit of fun.”

 “I know, just… just don’t do that again.”

 They were quiet for a few moments, Simon sitting and stroking Duncan with one hand and Ailsa with the other. 

 “Did you have fun with Johnny while I was out?” he asked them, trying to lighten the mood again. 

 Ailsa perked up a bit, and nodded enthusiastically, stepping up with her front paws on his leg. She let out a couple excited yips, forgetting that she was still in her wolf-shape and Simon couldn’t understand her. 

 He humored her anyway.

 “It sounds like you had a good time. And Duncan, did you have fun today?”

 The darker pup in his lap shifted, looking up at him and giving him a smaller, but no less definitive nod.

 “Ailsa here is going to be an ace hunter soon, but I have a feeling Duncan would enjoy another activity instead,” Johnny added, still sounding chastised. 

 “Well I might have some options for him here in the car.”

 That perked up both of the children who scrambled off of Simon and eagerly followed him to the aforementioned car. He wordlessly started handing Johnny the groceries before digging around in the bags to find the ones he was looking for. 

 “I wasn’t sure what kind of toys you’d like, so I just got a bunch,” he told them, feeling a little ridiculous as he handed Ailsa the bag of dog toys and Duncan the bag of toys for human children. 

 “Why don’t you two bring those inside?” Johnny called from the doorway where he had propped it open.

 While the pups dug into their toys (some quite literally— there was cardboard and plastic shredded everywhere from all the packaging), the two adults set about unloading the rest of the car. Moving around each other, working as a team, falling into a rhythm was something Simon hadn’t experienced in years. It was strangely comforting, to have someone else there with him. 

 When he realized on their next trip what exactly was in the bags Simon had given Ailsa, Johnny snorted. “You do know that they’re not dogs, right?”

 He shot him a look. “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure what they’d like to play with. Wanted to make sure they had something no matter what shape they’re in.”

 “Oh that’s actually sweet,” Johnny cooed at him. “Aren’t you just a big softie.”

 “Oi, shut it.” He pushed at his shoulder, soft enough to make sure the other man knew he was teasing, but still plenty rough. 

 And he did shut up, at least for as long as it took him to find the baby backpack. 

 “What exactly were you gonna do with this?” he practically squealed, or as much as a grown man is capable of squealing. 

 “Well, do you know how old they are?” Simon shot back.

 “Older than this, that’s for sure,” he laughed. 

 Johnny paused for a moment, and he could practically see the wheels turning in his head. A sinking feeling settled into his stomach when a feral grin lit his face, teeth a little too sharp to be human. The Scot slid the backpack on and took off for the cabin. 

 “Ailsa, love, come be a dear!” 

 “Well shit,” Simon sighed. 

 He gathered more bags to take inside, walking in to see Johnny tucking Ailsa, still in her wolf shape, into the backpack. 

 “Didn’t you just say they were too big for that?”

 He was struggling, as Ailsa had started wiggling, bored of this activity already. 

 “Yeah, but I think I can still get her in it.”

 She let out a couple barks, wiggling even harder, tail wagging.

 “I don’t think she’s going to let you,” Simon chuckled, moving to take her from Johnny.

 As he gathered her up in his arms, she gave him a couple quick licks on his chin before wiggling enough for him to understand that she wanted to be put down again.

 The rest of the unloading was uneventful, but hauling all of the supplies had aggravated his shoulder. Simon thought he had been discrete enough about his pain, but as soon as the door shut on his bedroom, the pups tucked in for the night after another chapter or two, Johnny was there. 

 By that point in the evening, the storm had begun in earnest outside.

 “Let’s get you looked at, big guy.”

 Johnny directed him to sit on a stool in the bathroom where he had already pulled out a first aid kit. 

 “I’m fine,” he tried to argue.

 “Oh none of that. Off with the shirt before I rip it off you.”

 Simon felt his ears burn and the telltale rush of blood rushing to his cheeks. More to avoid any observations about his reaction to Johnny’s words than anything else, he pulled his shirt off and sat, facing away from his friend. 

 His friend. They were friends, he supposed. 

 Rough, calloused, warm hands settled on his bare skin, and he flinched. 

 “S’just me, Si,” Johnny murmured in his rumbling Scottish brogue. He rubbed at the tension in his neck for a moment before he began peeling back the bandages Simon had haphazardly applied.

 “Oh that must’ve been a bitch,” he hissed as he caught sight of the wound for the first time. 

 “Should’ve seen the other guy,” Simon tried joking before remembering that Johnny had indeed already seen the man who had stabbed him.

 Silence fell in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. 

 Wordlessly, Johnny cleaned out the wound again before he reached back into the first aid kit to grab the needle and thread. He didn’t question why Simon had included it in the kit, he never questioned anything. When he touched him again, pressing the sides of the wound together so he could begin the sutures, Simon flinched again. Johnny just rested his hands against his back, letting him get used to the touch again, only moving when he relaxed marginally. 

 “I ripped them to pieces.”

 “What?”

 Johnny spoke again, his tone grave, but his voice soft. “I tore them apart. When I saw what they had done, I lost it. Seeing the wee ones already sent me into a bit of a frenzy. But those hunters, I— it sent me over the edge.”

 He didn’t say anything, just let Johnny speak, listened to the creep of rage slinking its way into his voice. 

 “We’re hunted by a handful of idiots who know what is out there, but that don’t believe that we have any humanity.” Johnny let out a sarcastic huff. “Ironic. The monsters being more human than the actual humans.”

 They sat in silence for another moment as Johnny finished the last stitch on Simon’s shoulder.

"I'm sorry again about this afternoon."

"I know."

Silence again before—

 “I wish I had done worse,” he confessed. “I know you killed them already for what they did, but I want to kill them all over again for hurting you too.”

 Frozen, Simon just gaped like a fish out of water as Johnny applied another bandage. He couldn’t even gather his thoughts enough to speak by the time he was done cleaning up the mess they had made on the counter. 

 “Goodnight, Simon,” he murmured on his way out of the room, giving him one last squeeze to his good shoulder.

[reawritestoo]

Broken Wings - Part 3

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Spy! Female OC

Warnings: Torture, like rough grueling torture, not for the faint of heart, light swearing, character death, fictional wars

Word Count: 769

Summary: Jake is captured after being shot down by the enemy. He survives but that doesn’t mean he is safe. He is captured and forced to do the unthinkable. Not only does he have to survive being tortured but he also has to protect an inside spy from death. 

A/N- Thank you to all of those who have kept up with my story so far! You are all so kind and lovely to even read it! See you all next Wednesday!

______________________________________________________________

“Rose?!” Jake, whisper yelled, “What are you doing here? How are you alive? Wait, how did you get to such a high clearance?” 

Jake was in a frenzie, a panic attack was rising inside him. Breathing all of the sudden became hard. His vision left him. He crumpled to the ground kneeling, his muscles in his legs were aching. When there’s a spy a mission is more dangerous than life itself. Last he heard of Rose she was dead by the hands of North Korea. How was she here? 

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Rose opened his cell door with a loud clang and placed her hand on Jake’s back, “In. Out. In. Out.”

The pressure of Rose’s hand on his back was giving him something to focus on, instead of the sudden outburst of pressure on his lungs. 

“I know you’re from Top Gun, how did you get here?” Jake shook out. He gasped after every word. 

“First we need to get out of here, if you want to live, you have to come with me now,” Rose whispered, “If we don’t leave now we are both dead. The guard will tell the general that I helped you after your shocks. This could get really messy.” 

“Why did you help me and not save yourself?” Jake asked, facing her, rolling over looking up at her. The dirt making a soft area for his head to rest. A massive migraine started to form inside his head. She was kneeling next to him. He could see her blue eyes glimmer in the light above them and her golden short hair in waves seemed to glow. 

“Let’s just say I owe a favor to Mav,” She shrugged. 

“Wha-what is the favor?” Jake asked, still laying down. The weight of his head felt too heavy to lift, let alone go anywhere. 

A loud crash came out of nowhere and footsteps got louder and louder. The sudden noise made Jake jump. 

“Shhhhhhh, stay down,” Rose whispered, laying down next to him. 

Soon the noise faded and Rose sat back up, “Can you get up?” 

Jake lifted his head and with Rose’s help he sat up and used Rose as a crutch to stand. It took all his energy to not put any weight on his shot leg. She kept him steady and breathed hard. She placed her hand and applied pressure on his chest. 

“Focus on your breathing Lieutenant,” Rose said, comforting him. 

He nodded once and hopped with his good leg as Rose walked very slowly out of the cell. Jake could feel himself become dizzy the more steps they took. 

“Just keep going, we have to get out of here,” Rose said urgently and out of breath. The more tense she got the more Jake panicked. 

Jake could hear a faint dripping sound above him, and then a drop of water fell on his nose going down onto his chapped lips. The blistering cold of North Korea already took effect on his flesh. His lips bled and his ears hurt from the cold. The hallway felt like a marathon as Jake continued to hop down it. Rose made sure to keep his steady and moving. 

“What was the favor you owed Mav, Agent Hathaway?” Jake asked, he knew he shouldn't have asked. But it distracted him from the pain and how long it took him to take one step after the other. 

Just as he thought he got a “shhhhhh” from Rose. 

“Put your hands up! Both of you!” A voice yelled behind them. Rose flinched. 

“Shit,” Rose mumbled. Only Jake could hear her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our new arrival and the girl we thought we could trust. How lovely,” The leader spoke. Jake had to pay close attention and it was hard to understand what he was saying. With the man’s accent and his mind splitting migraine he could barely keep up. 

“Sir, I was just taking him to the torture hall with all the fun toys all the guards get to use, I wanted a turn,” Rose said cheekily and almost too girly. 

“Prove it then, show me what you were going to do to him. I mean unless you are too weak and were really trying to save him,” The man’s voice was hard and stern. Jake had a hard time thinking what to do next. 

“You want me to torture him in front of you, sir?” Rose asked politely. 

“Sure, why not? I watched someone get hung today, what’s the difference?” 

“The difference,” Jake thought was, “If she tortures me, I won’t live a moment longer.”

[bxtonpxss]

And she meant every word of it. His secrets were his, and she wouldn’t pry into personal matters. She just hoped that when the time came, he’d feel ready and willing to share them with her. He wasn’t disappointed? Neya pressed a hand to her chest, smile spreading across her face as she sighed softly in relief. Ah, I’m glad. The knot of anxiety she’d felt began to unravel, like a weight lifting from her shoulders.

“Of course, Dark-san. I know you’re busy, and I don’t expect you to change your routine for someone like me,” her words are sincere. After all, she was the outsider here—thrust into this era so suddenly. It wouldn’t be fair of her to ask him to upend his life just because she enjoyed his company.

“We should just make the most of the time we do have together, then,” she adds warmly. She didn’t want to monopolize his time, especially if he had other responsibilities. But perhaps, on quiet nights like this, they could spend a little time together.

Eh...?

Neya feels like she'd just been jabbed with her own kunai at his next words. “Criminal?!” She splutters, eyes widening in dramatic disbelief. Ah, did she really come off as one? “W-well… er—t-that’s kind of complicated,” she admits sheepishly, her shoulders slumping.

“I wouldn’t really call myself a criminal.” She fidgets awkwardly. “I’ve just had a couple close calls with the authorities!” Too close for comfort, really. But it had been enough to teach her to be more cautious. “You don’t have to worry, though. I know how to be careful.”

With that being said, she figures it might be time to change the subject. Maybe even learn what exactly bought him out this evening. As far as she was aware, he hadn't sent Azumano into a frenzy with a heist tonight. "So," After calming down she folds her arms and peers up at him curiously. "What were you even doing anyway to make your wing cramp up? How is that by the way? Do you still need me to massage it?"

friends . here's where he should be saying something , anything , but the words refuse to form . right now , not even he understood what he was feeling --- what the name of the faint , hollow churn in his stomach was supposed to be . apprehension , approval ? there's nothing , nothing delicate nor firm enough that he can muster up in order to not hurt her and her far more earnest feelings .

yet she still allows him to keep his silence . his secrets . all of his myriad , obscuring lies , which compounded into his ceaseless trickery and heart-eating malice . hers feels a priceless , live bauble in his grip , and yet he doesn't open his mouth to bite and chew . instead , with a small smile , he tries to gently hand the thumping organ back to her . he couldn't be given something like this , not for while even his own heart was out of his hands .

' ... you could never disappoint me , neya . ' he's always liked her just as she was , after all --- perhaps even especially without him . ( desire ; his worse influences , the temptations of love and intimacy that always brought on these sorts of hurts . ) nothing more than this and the small , growing twist of smile acknowledges her words . if it ( he , ) was what she wanted ; a sort of one true wish that would have made her happy , then ...

' i don't mind us being friends , either . but i don't have a lot of time --- you knew that already , right ? ' he's spared his own appearances only when he could ; off-nights or after-heists when he and his other spotted her mulling about . certainly , if she's been so patiently waiting , then he's been , at least partly , curiously seeking whilst following after the restless plume of his thoughts . ' sorry . usually , i'd tell someone to just go home and be good ... but you're a criminal too . ' aren't you ? ' --- so , i'm sure you understand . people like us have to be careful . ' and you , maybe you should try to be more careful too .