#i still need to finish the first devil's machine book

[jules-tells-a-story]

you know, one of the best things about writing is that... you really can just do whatever you want. you want scifi where there's no human perspectives? go crazy. you want gay dragons? why not? you want some philosophical fantasy that plays with the concepts of storytelling and how it plays into overall human history? go crazy! the google doc is your oyster!

[heartsandhischier]

Rinkside Romance

nico hischier x reader

summary - 3.2k words. Y/N, an author has an unexpectant meeting with the captain of the New Jersey Devils, Nico Hischier

note - this is my first writing ever, so I hope you all like it :)

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a rich symphony of scents mingling with the soft murmur of conversation that enveloped the quaint little coffee shop. The sound of the coffee machines whirred in harmony with the gentle hum of patrons bustling about, seeking respite from the chilly evening.

Amidst the comforting ambience, Y/N found herself engrossed in the world of her latest novel, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she wove her characters through the last paragraph of the chapter. Her hands moved swiftly, navigating the keys with practiced ease, each click punctuated by the rhythmic beat of the nearby espresso machines.

As she reached for her steaming cappuccino, her heart skipped a beat, realizing the cup was empty. With a sense of urgency to maintain her creative momentum, she hurried to the counter, her mind already lost in the world of her story. “Another one?” the barista questioned, his voice rising above the din of orders being shouted out and the hiss of steam from the machines. Y/N nodded, a smile playing on her lips as she slid him the empty cup across the counter.

Her gaze wandered across the bustling cafe, taking in the familiar faces and comforting atmosphere that had made it her sanctuary since moving to New Jersey. But then, her attention was captured by a figure across the room – a man whose rugged charm and quiet confidence seemed to draw her in.

His hand swept his dark hair away from his face, revealing warm brown eyes that met hers with a sparkle. Their eyes met briefly, and in that fleeting instant, the moment felt like a page ripped from one of her books. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, he held her gaze, momentarily suspending time itself. It felt as though the world had quieted, leaving only the two of them in a shared moment of serenity amidst the chaos. 

“Cappuccino for Y/N!” snapping back to reality as her name was called, Y/N collected her fresh cappuccino, thanking the barista with a nod of gratitude. As she grabbed the cup, she turned back to look for the stranger with the big brown eyes. To her surprise, he was still there, seemingly frozen in time, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on her as she smiled. With a last shy smile, Y/N returned to her booth, unaware that destiny was about to intertwine.

Puck Drop and Bar Hops

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself amidst a lively crowd at a local sports bar, her friend had begged her to come as she wanted to show her the life, the energy, and the love the city had for their sports team. Tonight it was a hockey match, the new jersey devils against the dallas stars. Y/N didn't know too much about the sports, but kept her eyes glued to the screen as she struggled to keep up with where the puck was. No matter the extent of her knowledge or lack thereof, her friend was right, the energy was impeccable as the whole bar rustled and shaked as the team scored goal after goal. Cheers and glasses of beer clinking together as the New Jersey Devils won 5-2. “See! It wasn't too bad getting out of your apartment to experience this right?” Jessica chimed, she had in fact struggled to get Y/N out of the apartment as she went on about wanting to finish the chapter she was currently engrossed in. Y/N stuck her tongue out mockingly as they both laughed, “Come on! You need to come out more, explore the city, not just your apartment and the coffee shop! It might even give you some inspiration for your books,” 

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself amidst a lively local sports bar, her friend Jessica having begged her to come out and experience the vibrant energy and passion the city has for their sports team. Tonight, it was a hockey match–the New Jersey Devils against the Dallas Stars. Y/N didn’t know too much about the sport, nevertheless kept her eyes glued to the screen as she struggled to keep up with the whereabouts of the puck. No matter the extent of knowledge or rather lack thereof. Jessica’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Y/N couldn’t help but get swept up in the excitement as the whole bar erupted in cheers with each goal scored by the Devils. The atmosphere was electric, with glasses clinking together and jubilant chants filling the air as the Devils secured a decisive 5-2 victory.

“See! It wasn’t too bad getting out of your apartment to experience this right?” Jessica chimed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. Y/N playfully stuck her tongue out in response, joining in the laughter that bubbled between them.

“Come on! You need to go out more, explore the city, not just your apartment and the coffee shop! It might even give you some inspiration for your books,” Jessica continued, nudging Y/N with a playful elbow.

As they chatted and celebrated, Jessica leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, this bar is where the team usually comes to unwind after games,” she revealed, excitement dancing in her eyes. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get to meet some of the players.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door swung open, causing a wave of cheers to erupt from the fans in the bar as all heads turned to face the entrance. The atmosphere crackled with excitement as a group of familiar faces made their grand entrance–the New Jersey Devils themselves. 

They were greeted with enthusiastic pats on the backs and a flurry of “Go Devils!” from the triumphant fans as they navigated through the bar, basking in the adoration of their supporters. Among them, Y/N’s gaze was immediately drawn to a pair of unmistakable brown eyes, their warmth and familiarity sparking a sudden surge of recognition within her.

Her heart raced as she watched the players move through the crowd, their presence commanding attention and admiration from everyone present. Could it truly be him? The realization sent a thrill through her, igniting a spark of home and curiosity that she couldn't ignore.

“They’re cute right!” Jessica giggled next to her, her eyes glued to the players now standing by the bar. Y/N turned around in confusion, as her friend pried her eyes away from the players ordering drinks and beers. “Y/N you were quite literally drooling,” Jessica laughed, as a heath rushed to Y/N cheeks. 

Caught off guard, Y/N blushed hard as she attempted to regain her composure. “I, uh, I guess so,” she stammered, her gaze flitting nervously between Jessica and the group of athletes at the bar. 

Jessica leaned in closed, her continuing to eye the players. “I think Timo Meier is pretty cute,” she admitted with a playful grin. “But, oh my god, have you seen the captain? He’s also Swiss, like Timo, and he was a first-round draft pick. And those big brown eyes? Endearing as hell!” 

As the evening wore on, Jessica couldn’t help but gush about the players pointing them out amidst the crowd. Y/N listened intently, her eyes skipping a beat as Jessica rambled on about their captain, Nico, pointing to a tall familiar figure. With a jolt of recognition she realized that Nico, the captain Jessica has been raving about, was the same guy from the coffee shop. Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she stole a glance in Nico’s direction, her mind racing with newfound understanding.

Suddenly, a bartender approached their table, a tray of drinks in hand. “These are from one of the players,” he announced with a wink. “Lucky you!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she glanced over to the bar, spotting the hockey player with the familiar brown eyes. A rush of excitement coursed through her veins as she quietly thanked herself for agreeing to go out today. 

Emboldened by the gesture, Y/N found herself drawn to the bar, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a big swig of her drink and approached the handsome stranger. With a warm smile, she thanked Nico for the drinks, her voice steady and sure. Nico’s laughter filled the air, a melodic sound that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone warm and inviting.

Before she could say anything else, he extended his hand with a charming grin. “I’m Nico,” he introduced himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Y/N felt a rush of nerves as she struggled to respond, the weight of Nico’s presence catching her off guard, and in the heat of the moment without thought she blurted out an awkward “I know,” immediately cringing at her own words. Nico’s laughter only grew louder, genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, it’s nice to meet you again, ‘I know’,” he teased gently, his easy going demeanor putting her at ease.

Blushing furiously, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the tension of the moment melting away in the warmth of their shared laughter. “Sorry, that probably sounded weird,” she chuckled nervously. “My friend just told me about the team and their captain, and then I realized it was you and…” you rambled on as you tried to explain yourself as the awkwardness you felt lingered. Nico shook his head, his smile widening as he interrupted your panic. “Not at all. It’s kind of cute actually,” he reassured her, his gaze warm and reassuring.

Relieved by his response, Y/N felt her nerves begin to ease. “Thanks,” she replied, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “So, uh, what brings you to the bar tonight?” she asked, eager to keep the conversation flowing.

As the evening progressed, the conversation between Y/N and Nico flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and easy banter. Y/N occasionally glanced over at her friend Jessica, ensuring she was enjoying herself, only to find her deeply engaged in conversation with Timo Meier, the player she has pointed out earlier.

Feeling a surge of happiness for her friend’s newfound connection, Y/N turned her attention back to Nico. With each passing minute, she found herself drawn further into Nico’s magnetic presence. Her initial nervousness gave way to a growing sense of comfort and excitement. And as the night wore on, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter was just the beginning of something truly special. 

Jersey lights and Italian Delights

The clicking of Y/N’s heels echoed across the lobby of her apartment building as she nervously adjusted her dress, the sleek black fabric hugging her curves in all the right places. She had opted for a longer dress at Jessica’s suggestion, feeling a bit out of her comfort zone in such formal attire, especially for a date. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage before stepping out into the cool evening air.

As she descended the steps, her heart raced with anticipation. There he was, leaning against the sleek black car, his brown hair swept back, revealing those familiar and warm brown eyes. When he spotted her, his face lit up with a smile that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

“Hey there, ‘I know’,” he greeted her, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “You look stunning!”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his compliment as she approached him, his arms wrapping around her waist in a comforting embrace. Meeting his gaze, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her heart racing with excitement. “Ready for our date?”

Their first date was nothing short of magical – a candlelit dinner at a cozy Italian restaurant, where time seemed to stand still as they delved into deep conversations and shared intimate stories. Amidst the flickering candlelight, Nico and Y/N’s connection only grew stronger as the night went on.

As their relationship progressed, Y/N and Nico found themselves drawn to familiar places that held special memories for them. None more so than the cozy quaint coffee shop where they had first locked eyes. 

“One cappuccino for my favorite author!” Nico’s voice rang out cheerfully as he approached their table, bearing two steaming cups of coffee. Y/N glanced up at the brown haired man, a smile tugging at her lips at his playful remark. Accepting the coffee, she savored the rich aroma before taking a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her. “Well, thank you, my favorite hockey player in the NHL,” she quipped in return as he settled into the booth opposite her. Nico chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, I’d better be,” he teased, reaching across the table to gently brush his fingers against hers.

Their playful banter was interrupted by the familiar sound of Y/N’s phone buzzing with a notification. It was an email about her book release event, scheduled for the following week. Excitement bubbled up inside her as she shared the news with Nico. “I’d love for you to come,” she said, her voice tinged with anticipation. “It would mean the world to me to have you there.” Nico’s response was immediate and unwavering. “Of course I’ll be there,” he said, his brown eyes filled with sincerity.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

As the day of the book release event arrived, Y/N felt a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. Sitting at the table where she signed copies of her book for eager fans, her heart was fluttering with each interaction. Amidst the bustling atmosphere, she couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure in the line. It was Nico, patiently waiting with a copy of her newly released book clutched to his chest.

When Nico finally approached her table, his eyes lit up with excitement as he handed her his copy of her book. “Hey there ‘I know’,” he greeted warmly, a grin spreading across his face, “I’ve been looking forward to getting my hands on a signed copy of this book. I’ve heard the author is amazing!”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through her. She signed his copy, adding a little extra flourish with a heart next to her signature.

“Well, a little special signature for my favorite fan then!”

As the event came to a close, Y/N stood up from her seat, approaching Nico who had been engaging with her fans and colleagues throughout the evening. She smiled at him, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you for being here,” she spoke softly. “Having you by my side means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Nico pulled her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. “I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. 

“No matter what.”

From Ice to Ink

Amidst the whirlwind of her book release and hectic schedule, Y/N found herself attending her first hockey game at the Prudential Center in New Jersey. Adorned in Nico’s jersey, proudly displaying the number 13 on her back, she felt a sense of pride and excitement as she entered the arena to support Nico and the New Jersey Devils as they faced off against the Nashville Predators.

Welcomed by a friendly security guard, Y/N was guided to the room reserved for the players’ wives and girlfriends, where she was warmly greeted by the other women. Engaging in conversation and camaraderie, she felt a sense of belonging among them, despite it being her first time attending a game. As the game started, Y/N found her seat alongside the other wives and girlfriends, excitement filled the air. And Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as she watched Nico and the Devils take to the ice. 

As the game unfolded, the tension in the area was palpable. The Predators put up a strong fight, but the Devils matched them stride for stride. The score remained close throughout the game, with both teams trading goals in a back-and-forth battle. Y/N watched with bated breaths as Nico and his teammates fought tirelessly on the ice. The energy in the arena was electric, with fans on the edge of their seats as the team vied for control of the game.

Finally, in the third period, with the score tied, Nico seized a golden opportunity. As the puck soared into the back of the net, the arena exploded with cheers and applause. Amidst the jubilant roar of the crowd, Nico’s celebration was a sight to behold. With a leap of sheer exhilaration, he raised his arms triumphantly, his face radiant with joy. 

Turning towards the stands, his gaze found Y/N amidst the sea of cheering fans. A wide smile spread across his face as he blew her a kiss, a gesture filled with love and appreciation. In that moment, amidst the deafening roar of the crowd, it was as if time stood still, and their connection shone brightly for all to see. 

As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game, the scoreboard read: New Jersey Devils 4, Nashville Predators 3. The Devils had emerged victorious in a hard-fought battle, much to the delight of fans in attendance. 

After the game Y/N waited patiently with the other women in the lounge as the players headed to the locker room. Y/N couldn’t resist checking social media for highlights of the game. To her surprise, she stumbled upon a clip of Nico’s post-game interview, “The celly you did after your goal was terrific,” the interviewer remarked. “That kiss into the crowd was that planned? Perhaps directed at someone?”

Nico’s smile widened as he responded, “Well, it was a special moment for me. It’s actually my girlfriend’s first game here, so I just wanted to show her a little extra love.”

Watching the interview, Y/N felt a rush of emotion as Nico publicly referred to her as his girlfriend for the first time. When Nico finally emerged from the locker rooms, she couldn’t contain her excitement, rushing to greet him with a big hug and congratulations on the win and his goal.

“So, I’ve been upgraded from ‘I know’ to girlfriend now, huh?” she teased playfully.

Nico chuckled, his eyes filled with affection. With a gentle smile, he pulled away and reached into his suit pocket, retrieving something special from the night - a puck. It was inscribed with the words “Y/N’s first game” in white marker. 

“Well, it would be my pleasure if you’d want that promotion,” he replied, his gaze locked onto hers with those captivating brown eyes as he presented her the puck. 

Y/N was feeling ecstatic, with a surge of happiness she chuckled with excitement and nodded eagerly. As their eyes met, he grinned and leaned in to give her a tender kiss, sealing the moment with a promise of more to come.

[gloomykizwrites]

Scaredy cat

Summary: She hopes she will be taken somewhere far away,and her wish comes true, just in a very different manner than she expected. Kobeni wakes up in an unknown and foreign land. A land she could only imagine in a fantasy book.

(basically a fanfiction where kobeni from chainsaw Man will wake up in genshin impact, it's extremely cursed I know, but my god it was so fun to write 😭!!! You do not have to read or watch chainsaw man to read this but I still encourage you do ^^)

This post will include the first 2 chapters! You can read this on ao3, quotev and wattpad as well💗

Chapter 1: plea for help

"uh! Sorry for the wait! Here's your supersized family burger, large fries and large coke!"

Kobeni set down the food tray on the table, the customer looked displeased. 

"so slow" was what she heard when she walked away, another complaint, another slap in the face from life. 

Kobeni yelled "Family!" and posed as she joined her other co-workers for customer service practice. 

"Hey, kobeni!" she turned around to be met with her boss as she let out a yelp. 

 "your smile is too stiff! Try smiling like you do with your family!" 

The brown haired girl could only let out a strained "uh ! Y-yes sir!" 

"one other thing! Maybe try to do something about that " uh " you do whenever you start to say something? It makes things sound not quite familial!" he stared down at her as he finished his remark. 

"uh, yes sir-" she caught herself saying it again, frightened, she could only let out a series of  "uh, uh uh uhhs" in panic. 

İt was only stopped by a harsh slap in the face. 

A slap from her boss. 

"that's a familial slap" 

She took a second to regain her thoughts, and looked up at her boss as sweat started to form on her face. 

"I want you to remember that pain whenever you start saying "uh", if you do, I'm sure you will stop saying it, right? "

Kobeni could only nod. She felt someone put their arm around her shoulder, it was her co-worker. 

" kobeni! Problems are best solved working together! Since we're all family! " he exclaimed. 

She had quit devil hunting due to what she had to endure during it. Arai died protecting her and almost everyone she worked with had died. It was only logical, who would want to work at a job with a low survival rate?  

Kobeni still needed money however, so she chose to work at a fast food restaurant called family burger, yet here she was, still miserable, getting abused by her boss and not standing up for herself because she didn't want to lose her job. 

İt was all for her brother, for him to go to college. Her family had forced her to choose between devil hunting or prostitution, this was her last chance to make money for her brother if she didn't want to work as a sex worker. 

Yes, this was all for him and her family, she needed to endure this treatment, she needed to make money, but she is so, so miserable. 

So miserable she has to let out a weak "please help…" and pray someone will hear her plea. 

"hm? What for?" her co-worker asked. She could only force a smile. 

The sound of the door opening was heard.

Kobeni and her co-worker both turned around to see someone, no, something standing in front of them. 

İt looked like someone had heard her plea,because a devil, one she could recognize, was the one standing in front of them.

She had left her devil hunting job so she could get away from these types of situations, but what she forgot was that devils could be found anywhere, there is no escaping them

"uh-uh uh!!" she panicked once more. 

A customer stands up and tries to run, but the devil called chainsaw man stops him. 

The sound of the customer's head falling on the ground rang in her ears. 

Kobeni had prayed for someone to help her. 

She did not pray for someone to make her relive the terrors that haunted her. 

Chapter 2: wish

"Ah! I got a perfect score!" Kobeni looked at the screen of the ddr machine, her face was sweaty and she was out of breath from dancing. She blinked and turned around to see chainsaw man. 

"... Why am I dancing?" she muttered to herself, her co-workers had gotten decapitated right in front of her eyes moments ago because of her, it was all her fault, had the adrenaline gotten to her? 

After the customer got killed, chainsaw man had wanted to eat, her co-workers and boss told her to serve him a hamburger, yet she tripped, and chainsaw man killed more people. 

İt was so easy, serve him a hamburger, no one could mess it up. 

She had tripped again. She had tripped twice

He killed everyone. 

She was that pathetic. 

And now here she was, just got done dancing on a ddr machine, but not out of her own will, she was forced to entertain chainsaw man. 

How could she have the audacity to yell that she had gotten a perfect score when all of that happened?

"why indeed" kobeni heard an all too familiar voice. 

She looked up. 

İt was makima. 

The red haired woman spoke to chainsaw man, while Kobeni's mind was in shambles. 

She had nothing to do with this, why was this happening to her? 

Was it her punishment? For trying to kill Denji that one time in the hotel? For being the cause of several people's deaths? 

"this has nothing to do with me, this has nothing to do with me.." she tried reassuring herself

"Oh you have a great deal to do with this too, kobeni" Makima told the girl. 

"uh?!" 

"Your fear of chainsaw man has weakened, hasn't it?" the woman said in a matter of fact way, looking down on Kobeni. 

"huh…?" 

One thing after another, Makima gave a speech on chainsaw man, Kobeni didn't understand what was going on. 

Until she could see a  beam coming towards her way.

 Chainsaw man saved her. 

"a true hero…" was the last thing kobeni heard from makima. 

***

"Alright, it's safe to talk again. We won't be tracked here for a little while. Get some food in ya while we have this chance" 

 

Kishibe had led Denji and Kobeni somewhere he deemed safe, Kobeni was still sweating from what had happened earlier, while Denji looked more spaced out then kobeni remembered him. 

"I saw some things I shouldn't have… Does that mean Ms. Makima will kill me?" she asked

"yep" Kishibe answered as he made his way to a TV. 

She took a second to process his short answer. 

"I can't phone my family, can I?" she asked again. 

"nope" 

"for the rest of my life?" 

A few seconds of silence. 

"that's probably so" 

Her legs finally gave out, hugging them as she fell to the floor. 

"thank goodness…" 

"hu?" Denji looked at her 

"Thank goodness I have an excuse to get away from them…" 

"from who?" Denji asked. 

"My dad… And my mom…" 

Denji stared at her, and sat down as well, they didn't say anything to each other as silence took over. 

Kishibe sat in his seat "once you've eaten, get some sleep. Got an early start tomorrow"

Denji led his eyes towards Kobeni again.

She was shaking. 

"hu? What's the matter?" 

"I always get the short end of the stick… I'm so gonna die… I'm sc-"  She swallowed. 

"I-I'm scared of d-dying" the girl choked out, her voice hoarse, and her eyes puffy from crying all day. 

She turned her head towards Denji, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. 

"must be nice to be you… you c- you can come back to life…" 

Denji spoke

He told her he looked fine. 

Yet his heart wasn't.

He took a bag of chips and opened it, spilling out his feelings to Kobeni. 

How dumb he was. 

How he was fine living as the fool. 

How he never made any choices for himself. 

Kobeni listened to him, listened and understood where he was coming from, even if their experiences weren't the same. 

"Even if I make it out alive, I bet…I'll always be living in obedience to somebody like a dog" 

 

That was what Denji said. 

"isn't that just normal though?" the girl commented. 

"hu?" Denji's eyes widened. 

"There's no such thing as a life free of bad things…" she continued "except in your dreams…" 

He could only look at her in shock. 

"oh… But I wanted to be normal.. And… " 

"You want to be normal Denji?" 

She wanted to be "normal" too. 

But she'll never be.

Denji then told all the things he wanted to Kishibe, crying and yelling his truths. 

Kobeni could only watch. 

The truth for kobeni was that she wanted to escape,and to live somewhere far away. 

After everything that happened in her life. 

She prayed that something will take her away from this world. 

Not to die, just live far, far away from where she was. A place where she could be free

That was her only wish.

She finally closed her eyes, and went to sleep. 

When she woke up, she was filled around grass, and the sunlight shone on her face. 

Had her wish come true? Or was this just another dream? 

[themagnusbane]

All of 'Dem Things

It finally hit me that I should probably create a pinned post so my crackpot of a blog is slightly more navigable. So here you go.

Name is Noria. Pronouns are she/her. I use queer as an umbrella term because it best captures my experience as a biromantic graysexual who's attracted to women, non-binary folx, pretty boys, and G-Dragon (who is technically a pretty boy. But my man is his own category. It is what it is).

Currently watching: Between Us, GAP the Series, My School President, Old Fashion Cupcake

Present obsession: Love in the Air, KinnPorsche

All-time obsession: Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Modaozushi), One Piece, Sandman comic, Death (as a concept), RPGs, especially Mass Effect and Dragon Age (Yes. BioWare owns my ass. Corporate fucks!).

Show Reviews/Thoughts

Gap the series: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6, Episode 7, Episode 8, Episode 9, Episode 10, Episode 11, Episode 12

Fanfic (in order of most recent):

Never Have I Ever (Love in the Air) one shot.

Prapai finally apologies for the twink he had draped over him in episode 12. All hail the gremlin king: Saifha!!

31 Days of Wei Wuxian (Mo dao zu shi) 1/31.

It's meant to be a collection of one shots and drabbles, based off the 2021 Mayhem November prompts. I will probably get back to this soon)

The Killing Machine (Shadowhunters) 3/12.

Two separate assassin groups, pair up to kill the fucker who's put a price on their heads and on the heads of those they love. Everybody's an assassin. Except for Luke. And everybody's fucking. My ass hasn't updated this in 4 years. I need to rewatch the show if I plan on continuing this. I probably should. I hate leaving this uncompleted).

Woven in my Soul (Shadowhunters) 1/10.

What if the devil employs the services of an angel, to locate his missing prince of hell? Alec's an angel (because of course he is). Magnus's the prince of hell (duh!). And their union is about to be cataclysmic. Or it would be. If I got my head out of my ass and actually continued writing this. Urgh. I really need to rewatch Shadowhunters this holiday, so I can finish up the two fics.

Spotter (Shadowhunters) one shot.

Jace drags Alec to the gym where he meets very buff, very foine Magnus Bane. Magnus is a babe and he knows it. Honestly this is one of my most closest to life fic experiences. Cuz I did become a gym nut for a short period of time, cuz of a crush and what can I say? No knowledge or experience is ever wasted!

31 Days of Magnus Bane (Shadowhunters) 31/31

A collection of ficlets and drabbles celebrating Magnus Bane in all his magnificent glory. And unlike my Wei Wuxian one, this one is actually complete. I really should finish Wei Wuxian's fic though. Urgh!

And So It Begins (Shadowhunters Universe - TDA) one shot

Domestic fluff that has Max Lightwood-Bane asking a ton of questions, nudging his parents into getting him a sibling. Honestly this is more Shadowhunters universe than the TV show, as neither Max nor Rafa made it to the show, but they are in the books.

It's Time to Lose Your Virginity Brother Dearest (Shadowhunters) 9/9

Magnus is a stripper. Alec's having a birthday. There's some plot in there somewhere. This was actually inspired by a prompt from a tumblr mutual who isn't on here anymore, and was a blast to write.

Happy Birthday, Beautiful (Shadowhunters World Inverted) one shot

Takes place in the world inverted shadowhunters universe. Magnus isn't interested in celebrating his birthday. Alec, his boyfriend, and party planner extraordinaire, disagrees. This was my first fic on AO3 after years of lurking. Still holds a special place in my heart, truth be told.

Ficlets and drabbles

[undinegeist]

This isn’t really more content, I’m working on the edges of the next best thing - hopefully - but in the meantime I thought I’d suggest reading material for anyone who’s interested?

I just finished Bobbie Brown’s book - not makeup artist Bobbie Brown, devil help us, though until I read it I thought it was her - and it’s really great, Cherry on Top is its name…that’s for the Mötley Camp, she used to date Tommy Lee.

For the Pistols Camp, even though everyone seem to love to hate Nancy - I don’t, fyi - I’d really recommend her mom’s book, And I Don’t Want to Live This Life…it shows her as more than she’s portrayed to be, shows her as a real person, which is so important…that’s how I got into the Pistols thing, thanks to this book…and Machine Gun Kelly’s Sid and Nancy - twisted paths. I don’t really like Nancy’s mom - her family’s too straight for me - but she’s a damn good writer. As for Sid, books about him are so fucking hard to find digital - conspiracy? - but one that if you can get your hands on I’d recommend is by Alan Parker, Sid Vicious: No One Is Innocent…it helped inspire a few of the stories I’ve posted here. There’s also England’s Dreaming which is more about the band and the punk movement but I haven’t finished that, so I really can’t recommend it yet.

Hope you guys give some of these books a shot alongside the usual ones…which if you want in a vague list, though I imagine you already know them…I can only recommend the Motley stuff officially, I’m still making my way through the Pistols stuff, but:

- The Heroin Diaries (have read, it’s great, pretty fucking dark though hopeful at the end if you’re feeling good)

- Tommyland (have also read, not entirely sure how I feel about it, though worth a read for perspective’s sake, it is also kind of fun in a dirty way - which is cool sometimes)

- Tattoos & Tequilla (have also read, could have been edited better, I do love the input from all the people in Vince’s life outside the Motley guys though, worth a read)

- The *Infamous* Dirt (can’t decide which I love more, this or THD *affectionate name for The Heroin Diaries* though I’d say this is required reading, especially if you intend to write Mötley stuff, it’ll give you tons of material)

- There’s also a timeline type thing written by Paul Miles (can’t remember what they call it now, but the books are separated by ten year spaces, 80s, 90s and so on), which I’d really only recommend if you’re gonna write stuff about them, it’s really unnecessary otherwise (there are like six of them, I think, I’ve read them all, they’re good for - again - writing material). You can get these through Kindle Unlimited for free, unless you’ve used up your trial. Not that I’m advocating pirates but you can also run it through Calibre and a little drm thing, super easy to Google and do so you don’t have to worry about running out of time.

- This Is Gonna Hurt/The First 21 (these are good, but have a different vibe from The Heroin Diaries, overlap - especially The First 21 - with Nikki’s part in The Dirt).

- Living Like a Runaway (this one’s okay, not strictly necessary, it’s by Lita Ford, who mentions Nikki a couple of times, given the fact that they dated)

For the Pistols Camp, I’m planning to read these:

- Reckless by Chrissie Hynde

- Lonely Boy by Steve Jones

- Rotten by John Lydon

- England’s Dreaming by Jon Savage

Anyway. Not sure this is helpful to anyone. But for anybody wanting to start writing and needing inspiration, something that helps sometimes is figuring out when the person you’re writing about is born (with time too if you can get it) doing the astrology chart thing, reading everything there, then using it in your writing somehow…it feeds the muse. The muse must be fed. Never stop reading.

[missinghan]

falling asleep in a time machine ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : mafia au; fluffy angst; hurt/comfort; female reader insert

❖ word count : 6,9k.

❖ warning : swearing, implied major character death, mention of arson, depictions of vomiting, killing, blood, death, can be brutal (!!!), delusional happy ending. 

❖ summary : four times you try to go back in time and save chan; or alternatively, you keep dreaming about chan to see if there is a way to undo his death when in reality there isn’t — from the world of illicit & priceless.

❖ author’s note : just finished my first term of uni (like actually the first term ever) and I’m so dead inside so here’s a silly little something. I can’t use pts anymore so pls bear with the banner *cries and dusts off this old blog* also I try to explain here why Chan was so attached and pissed off when mc stole his mother’s ring even though it’s accidental.

first attempt —

There are three missions that have altered the course of your and Chan’s relationship.

The first mission goes back to when you were still going on heists and Ryujin had foolishly put a piece of Chan’s mother’s sentiments into your pocket. Neither you nor Chan have come to know or like each other much before it.

The second one is the mansion with a bomb planted in the basement and Chan got locked inside a conference room with a three-layered door, one of them made from the same metal as the fucking Titanic. The third mission involves a casino where the Germans and Italians came together to push Chan toward a dead-end they had cultivated for the Devil himself, to his ultimate demise. They are all too arrogant to admit that Chan will take over the entirety of the East Asian market before any of them can start rolling in their graves.

Three missions of importance and not long after that, you and Chan have agreed to never go on a mission without each other. An unwritten contract. An unspoken promise. Nothing that the mafia engages in is legal so everything runs on trust, on how much faith you are willing to give those who you keep close.

However, there is a fourth mission that the Underworld records will fail to keep because even only a minuscule part of the Bang family is informed about this—how their precious heir has been summoned to bring home the girl he loves.

“Would you do laundry and taxes with me?”

“That’s an odd way to propose to someone, Y/N. And please, you’re asking an obvious question.” Chan looks up at you from his book. His smile is gentle, soft at the corners with his dimples sinking in—it’s how you know that he means it—the way it usually is these days. The way it has been for the past year. It is almost obscure, you think, how you both would have wanted each other’s head on a stick a year ago before one of you managed to make the other person cry out of gratitude.

You lift the book away from his face, glimpsing at the cover. Because Chan is an absolute heathen, he has been reading No Longer Human and you’re being annoying about it because he hasn’t come out to train with you for two days already. “Are you telling me you’ll say ‘no’?”

“We’re already doing laundry and taxes together. We will just have matching rings and a signed piece of paper,” Chan gives you a pointed look; he always looks so serious whenever he wants to correct you as if your sarcasm is that dry. “So it naturally implies as a ‘yes’, idiot,” he nags, even though he doesn’t mean the last part.

“Oh how you wound me, love,” you bite back, even though you don’t mean it either. “Chan, come on. You’re locking yourself up in a prison.”

Chan lets out a long, heavy sigh as if he’s insulted that you have just called his room a prison—which you never verbally hinted at, he simply interpreted it that way. He reaches over to grab the book from your hand, seemingly giving up his reading time for you, and places it on his bedside. 

“What are you–” You watch as Chan walks over to one of his mahogany drawers. “-doing?”

“I need caffeine to talk to you.”

Despite your bristling, he stays true to his words and finds himself a mug, a tea bag, along with a boiler. By the time Chan finishes filling up the boiler with water and turns on the heating switch, your legs are dangling over the edge of his bed as you puff up like a cat, baffled and offended. 

“So,” Chan inquires, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. “What’s up?”

“I find your current state distressing to look at,” you elaborate with glee, a glint coming into your eyes that Chan knows you’re up to no good. “Take a week off with me. We can go anywhere you want, it’ll be a short getaway, just the two of us.”

Chan’s back is turned toward you because he’s too busy searching for a spoon but you can boldly assume that he’s smiling. It’s hinted in his tone when he asks, “You mean a vacation?”

“Brilliant interpretation, Chan,” you smile wryly. “Of course, I meant a vacation!”

“No, you can go have fun by yourself. You have my permission,” he shakes his head. “I have things to attend to. Meetings, banquets, important business transactions. You know how boring the mafia lifestyle is.”

You still, voice low and suppressed in something Chan can’t seem to grasp at. “You’re going back to your family.” It’s barely a movement, a small enough action. Any passerby would think that you have only faltered a little but Chan has observed you for a good while now to notice you’re holding your shoulders back from trembling. 

“I am going back to my family,” he repeats calmly. “Only for a week, though. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Chan, I know they want to see me.”

Chan tries not to let anything show on his face. “And they may very well kill you because that is what they are. Godawful, egoistic, and incapable of compassion.”

“Let me go with you, I—” you begin, though you cut yourself off almost instantly. The room is suddenly steeped in silence, unwieldy at the absence of your words. Every noise seems amplified in the quiet: the boys’ chatters echoing dully from the living room, the ticking hands of the clock, and every breath you take to calm the anxiety in your rib cage.

I do not fear death, sickness, or anyone’s hatred. What I fear most is losing you, Chan. It’s all so beyond you because a year ago, you were a thief, taking things as you please and sending them away when they’re no longer of use for your benefit. Now there is someone who you will live for and his kiss you will kill for, his laugh you will die for.

“Chan, do you have any idea what I would turn into if you left me?” You have always worried loudly, from the volume of your attentiveness and the anxiety beneath your skin all lie in the tender manner of how you love Chan—the same goes for him, that you can be certain of.

“I will never leave you, Y/N. We will be okay,” he assures you, unbearably calm.

Chan is a liar. 

second attempt —

Chan is supposed to go back to the Bang family’s estate with Yuriko for the New Year. Yuriko is the housekeeper whom he has retired for about a year ever since you came into the picture. The boys, especially Jisung, have been forced into keeping their surroundings clean because, for some wicked reason, they think you are absolutely terrifying when you’re upset about their muddy shoes dirtying the floor after a mission. Yuriko always giggles at that, her Young Master surely knows how to pick a partner. 

“I’ve got word that your father wants you to back to the estate, Young Master,” Yuriko tells Chan when she finds you and Chan in the archive because you have insisted on reading about something you won’t say a word to him. Surely, Chan recognizes what you’re searching for but he doesn’t mention it. 

“He said he wanted to make sure you are ready to take over his position. And there is a dinner he wants your attendance for,” Yuriko continues, hands clasped behind her back. You didn’t even realize when she stepped in and approached Chan—for a mere housekeeper to be so swift and quiet with her movements, you have long guessed that she’s not just any old woman to be hired by the Bang family.

The way Chan stiffens in his seat is telling all on its own. You are suddenly struck with the recurring memory of how Minho used to babble about how much of an ass Chan’s family is when he has had one too many drinks. “You don’t know how bigshot mafia families treat their children, do you? They kept the world from knowing for a reason. I’m surprised Chan didn’t turn out to be a monster like them.”

“Forgive me, Yuriko, but you can tell the old man to suck it up,” Chan says softly but his voice is dark, tense, riddled with a sharpness you haven’t heard from him in a long time—you were threatened just the same way when you had stolen his mother’s ring. Now you realize Chan only ever speaks so heartlessly if something precious to him is hanging on the verge of being taken away. 

“Young Master,” Yuriko frowns for two reasons; firstly, Chan has never been able to decline his blood family of anything and secondly, there isn’t much that she can do to solve the problem at hand. She’s a mere servant for the Bang family; she doesn’t have much power to begin with and therefore, she can’t exactly tell them ‘no’. 

“No, you can’t make me,” Chan grits because he knows, he understands it all too well. Unsaid words of all the things money can buy hang in the air like bile. 

“Young Master Christopher, you must know what happens if you defy your father.” And there goes Yuriko’s final warning along with Chan dashing out of the archive, straight through the hallway and the front door of the mansion, completely vanishing in the white curtain of December snow.

Yuriko murmurs something under her breath, unintended for you to hear her. You continue staring forward, the file in your hands completely forgotten. “He can come home with me,” you say without actually thinking about it until she turns to stare at you, expressionless before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“I think Young Master would like that.”

With that, you set off to find Chan.

“No one will love you unconditionally like we do.” “You belong to us, so do as we say.” “Work to kill, kill or you’ll die. You were born to kill, it’s a gift that not everyone receives.” “The world will bow before you and sway the way you want it but you’ll have to-”

“I don’t want any of that,” Chan hisses but the voices keep coming back louder, harsher, with more bite than he has ever heard from them. “None of you ever gave me anything that matters! You just can’t admit that you made me a murderer!!” 

The snow around him sinks with each step he takes, their words still echoing in his mind and sending shivers down his spine, driven so deeply inside his skull that he wishes he could have nothing of this reality. “Be mindful of yourself. Control it.” “Your fangs and claws are too sharp for you to be swinging just at anyone,” he hears them again

His nose burns in the cold but Chan doesn’t notice something warm and wet trickle down his cheekbones. “You never cared about restraint. You said I must kill or I would die. You all just want to possess me, you want me not as an heir but as a commodity!!”

“It’s how we’ve been running this family. It’s how we keep things in order. You’re one of us, Christopher, you are this family.”

With a huff, Chan eventually gives in and listens because he has no other choice but to; he slides down against concrete with a white-out vision, a quivering figure with nothing on but his cardigan. “Then you’re just as godawful as any of them,” he tells himself, knees curling against his chest, almost justified in his own lie that he wants to burst out laughing.

Chan knows they have made him more of a weapon than a child, more of a monster than a man and he is stuck with it for good. He has been holding onto life just because he can, not so much that he wants to. Because he never truly wanted anything before or was wanted in any way.

“Oh my god, you’re a fucking man-child!”

He hears someone’s nagging from afar and ignores it, hugging himself impossibly tighter because asking for comfort is unacceptable, they taught him so. “Chan!!” He hopes it goes away with all of the other voices. 

It doesn’t. Instead, it comes closer in a humane form, boots crunching against the snow and warm breaths sounding rhythmically. “It’s been an hour. Do you have any idea how worried we all were- how worried I was?! What the actual hell,” you snap. “Now I’m going to hear all this shit from Seungmin again because I let you run off and he’s too terrified of you to properly lecture you. God-”

Your rambles cut off when you kneel down next to him, rummaging for a scarf, a pair of gloves, yet another pair of gloves, his puffer jacket, and a hat from your bag. Chan quietly watches as he tries to blink away the oncoming tears but he can’t—they keep coming. He doesn’t reply when your scolding goes on because even though your voice is sharp, Chan can catch the worry hidden along the edges. Being cared for and cherished like this has made him realize how much he doesn’t want to come back to his family and he wants to cry like he’s the fourteen-year-old boy who used to refuse to pick up a gun all over again.

A child who was unable to stuff down the overwhelming agony and grief forced upon him. A child who was weaponized. A child who was threatened into killing his own mother. “If you can’t kill what you hold near and dear, you’ll never be able to kill anyone to save yourself.”

“Chan?” you call out to him, unbearably soft. There’s a certainty, a sort of gentleness in the way his name is said that only makes his tears come hotter, more and more of it because your love feels big, overwhelming.

Chan hates crying so he never did, not when they had locked him up in his room, not when they had starved him because of his disobedience, not when they had made him pull the trigger with the gun’s mouth pressing against his mother’s chest. Chan hates crying but it seems to be all he’s doing now. 

You’re wrapping him up so gently and trying to warm him up because you know he’s just as human as any mundane individual out there. Humans shiver when the temperature drops, they shed tears when they’re upset, and they bleed and bruise at the right amount of impact. That’s why humans are so clingy toward each other so they can prevent harm from coming the other person’s way. Because no one enjoys getting hurt and there is no good reason to voluntarily get hurt; it sounds like common sense but Chan never grew up with such things. He never came to think he was deserving of such things.

“Chan, come home with me. Forget your family. I don’t need to know about them,” you smile at him, somehow empathetic and so understanding when Chan has barely given you an explanation, when he is desperate to fill the silence but he knows his voice will be weak with tears, stumbling, and pitching all over the place.

Chan sniffles, finding the courage to say something back because he wants to, not because he feels like he has to, “Can I really…come-come home with you?”

“I’m sure the girls wouldn't mind, they might be a little annoying. Yeji, though, can be wary of strangers,” you shrug, something so relaxed about your posture tells him that you have learned to accept something without telling him. 

A breathy chuckle. “Especially when they’re a mafia leader.”

An exhale. Chan shudders when you embrace him wholly—every moment of pride and arrogance, betrayal and hurt that he has been boxing away—as the beautiful mess that he is. You’re the safest person on the face of Earth not because you are on equal terms with him in power but because you never care about those things. You will let him break something, burn something down, cry, and laugh however he pleases but you won’t ever let go of his hand. You never ask him for anything in return while continuing to save him over and over again.

He’s so unbelievably lucky, Chan thinks but doesn’t say it aloud, instead, he tells you, “If you’ll have me.”

The night after you drive Chan back to your mansion, the place goes up in flames. Only you are able to open your eyes to see the next daylight.

“Welcome home,” you want to whisper but can only watch a last smile bloom on the face of a ghost amidst the orange blaze.

third attempt —

You decide to come home with Chan.

For a non-mafia family, it might go like this.

Meeting Chan’s parents will be the hardest thing you have ever done—and that is coming from someone who has broken through the world’s most modern security systems and got your hands on objects worth billions of dollars. 

You will bow when you meet them, use the politest speech you have taught yourself last minute, and desperately try not to remember how Chan was forced to shoot his own mother as a child. They will pinch your cheek and call you lovely, chuckling at how stiff you are and offering you a ‘Come on in! Don’t mind the mess, it’s always how our house is.’

You will smile and you will play along because you want them to like you so badly it hurts. 

Chan will gawk at you without even trying to hide it because you have given him a completely different experience upon your first encounter. Casual, timid, and quick with your tongues when it comes to those witty retorts.

They will then ask you, ‘‘What are your hobbies? Any sports? Instruments?’’ Purely in the Asian parents’ style. 

You will be so nervous that you forget you play the violin and practice meditation occasionally. You will sit at their dinner table in their cozy, lived-in home, and rack your brain for a proper answer that might be deemed reasonable for a mundane girl. “It can be anything you do for fun, honey. No need to be nervous,” they will say again and you will give them a small grimace in return. 

It’s probably deeply fucked up when the first thing that comes to your mind is ‘I retired from heists a year ago because museums are fucking boring so I have moved on to finding new and creative ways to eliminate anything that might be the cause of Chan’s suffering.’

“…You play the violin beautifully,” Chan will suggest quietly beside you, his hand laced with yours beneath the table. “And you interrupt my reading time whenever you need attention.”

“I…I like to be with you,” you will finally find the courage to say with a firm squeeze of his hand, and the strength to smile when his eyes widen faintly, flustered yet not surprised. 

Still, it doesn’t matter whether Chan was born from a mafia family. You don’t hesitate to hold his hand beneath the table when Chan tenses up from the disappointed gaze of his father, lean over ever so slightly, and whisper, “I like to be with you.” He almost gasps but refrains. “Wherever we are. As long as you allow me to stay by your side.”

For once, Chan lets himself think that he won’t fuck up something before he even gets to have it in his arms. 

You did come home with Chan even if the dinner is anything but cozy and mundane. Their smiles are cold porcelain, a familiarity with death so staggering you feel nauseous. They are all here, though. Every single one of them. “I’ll be back,” you say and excuse yourself to use the restroom, he assumes.

Chan finds an uneasy slick in his throat, almost thick like blood when he sees a bright thing in your eyes. He lets you go anyway. Will things happen differently if he holds you back? 

Minutes after your withdrawal from the dinner table, an explosion goes off downstairs. The mansion quivers with a long string of rumble, a horrible feeling looming over everyone in the room like an ugly shadow. Though, no one bats an eye. Maintaining such a high position in the Underworld for so long is more than enough for the bounty on each of their heads to go up to millions of dollars. 

As much as Chan detests his blood family, he doesn’t want to die here, a horrendous place for his corpse to be found. So he stands as the rest of the room begins arming themselves, doing his best not to pay any heed to his father, and bolts downstairs. 

In situations like this, he is taught to close his heart and kill. Hence why there was barely any screaming when the commotion occurred, only the metallic sounds of bullets being clicked into their chamber. Truth be told, there is a weapon vault on the main floor of the mansion. Chan knows the most efficient shortcut there and can run through any hallways even without any lights on. He did grow up in this terrible place, and now he will make use of that to get you out of here before anything else. 

Chan arrives at the main floor and there is nothing but a giant hole and crumbled metal pieces in the weapon vault—or what used to be the weapon vault, blown up by a bomb it seems. Well, shit, he doesn’t even know how to register this. The entrance to his father’s most treasured place in the mansion has a three-layered door with an extremely lethal surveillance system, who and how the fuck-

He stops. He doesn’t so much as twitch. It gives him a moment of pure chill when the main floor has gone completely muted, both audibly and visually, like his life has just tipped off balance and leaned towards the bad part of a zombie movie. Upstairs, there is a cry for help and the sound of bullets continuously firing. 

“My fucking god,” Chan curses and turns on his heels, steeling himself mentally while rushing up the stairs. 

Upon arriving at the scene, it’s difficult to say whether turning up just five minutes earlier would have made much of a difference. Fuck, but if he had held you back, would things have taken a different turn?

There is a lot of blood. Too much blood to be explained away, and too much evidence to be traced back to no one else other than you. Well, to be fair, you’re the only person still standing and kicking aside from Chan anyway. The shotgun in your hand with a silencer attached speaks volumes, a knife between your teeth, and your left hand is fisted tightly. 

“…Y-Y/N,” Chan utters, in disbelief. “You’re Y/N, aren’t you?” 

You release something in your left hand and several fifteen-bullet magazines drop to the ground, the sound scratching his spine in the wrong way. The knife also hits the ground, metal echoing loudly against hard marble. 

“You’re here, Chan,” you reply, like your hands and clothes aren’t painted red. Swiftly, you duck to fumble for something beneath the dining table. Chan’s gaze follows you suit, prompting uneasiness to crawl down his throat when he realizes everything is, quite literally, drenched in blood. When he manages to snap out of it, you are unwrapping something from a white blanket—Berry, his eight-year-old Spaniel. 

You don’t look one bit surprised to see him—you have been expecting him. You simply keep on tucking Berry neatly into the blanket, murmuring something along the lines of ‘it’s over now’ and ‘I’m sorry I scared you’. Berry offers you a small whimper in return, still startled and recovering from the loud ruckus. 

Chan inhales very slowly. Exhales. “What did you do?”

“I killed everyone here,” you say levelly, as if mass murder is no big deal. “You’re a little late. I thought your intuition would be keener than that.”

“This is no time for a fucking joke,” he snaps. Chan has snapped because he’s mad at himself. He has been living purely by his intuition for more than two decades already, without it he would have died a long time ago. Yet when it comes to you, he’s always the most irrational. 

Your lips twitch like you’re about to smile but realize he’s upset. “You’re right, sorry.” 

Chan moves further into the room, his shoes squelching with each blood-drenched step he takes. He takes the scene in once again and keeps calm because that is what he has trained himself to do ever since the first time he got kidnapped. When his gaze brushes over the corpse of his father, he tries not to think about anything just yet. What’s done is done but Chan can piece the scene together from the explosion downstairs—a bait that anyone will be eager to take and a good way to disarm your enemies—to the scattering of hole-filled bodies, their blood blooming against the marble floor like a grotesque bouquet.

The crux of it is you know all too well he will run to find you without question, lending you the space and time to kill whoever remains.

“Why?”

Your eyes sweep over the mass of bodies, dull and distant. “Does it really matter?” You don’t think it’s fair to say you did it because you love him; it will become a curse that haunts him for as long as he lives. Yes, you love Chan with your entire soul but you also simply want to act as you please, allowing yourself to have your selfish ways of declaring your love for him. 

His chest heaves without any stability. “I thought you said you’re used to taking many things but you don’t take lives!!”

You cut right in, all glass. “Will anyone be able to do anything about it? Can anyone possibly arrest me, Chan?” 

Chan shudders, a sour thing gnawing at the back of his throat. It’s a morbid feeling he knows will become recurring at night, on the bad days. Chan wants to be furious, it feels like a moral obligation to be. Then again, everything the world has learned about empathy is already torn up by his family, they smeared it beneath their feet like it’s common trash. In the end, all of his nightmares and source of fear amounts to this, a mass of corpses with no resolution. 

“Do you want to kill me, Chan? If so, do it. You’re your own person, you are free.” 

Your eyes have turned into ice, and suddenly you have become so intangible that Chan slowly grows afraid. He thinks of terrible things, Am I allowed to have you? What makes you want me so badly? Why am I different from any of them?

The sound of retching interrupts his train of thought. It takes him precisely half a second to stare at how you are folded over your knees, dry heaving at the marble floor with Berry fumbling for help right at your side. Chan rushes to you to keep your hair out of your face as you gasp for air, choking on stomach bile and body raking with shudders. Once his hand smooths over the fabric on your back, you eventually cough and hack out the last of whatever is left that your system rejects. 

You breathe as shallowly as you can. Quiet wheezes, hollow breaths that pull in and out of your lungs too quickly. Chan rubs small, gentle circles on your back and doesn’t expect it when you snap up to look at him with wide, pained eyes as though you didn’t just murder his entire family in cold blood minutes ago, like you didn’t just take out the Underworld’s most feared lineage of demons by yourself.

Chan decides not to say anything, lets you lean into him shakily, and tries to figure out what you’re attempting to do with your hands. Dry blood makes your skin itchy every time your fingers twitch but you don’t mind it. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” he finally whispers with you sitting in the circle of his arms; you’re shaking like you’re sobbing even though you make no noise and cry no tears. Chan lets you squirm with a wild mania in your eyes, frantic and lost. He can’t quite pinpoint what you want until he gets it. 

You stop shaking the moment your head leans against the left side of his chest, right where his beating heart is. A pattern in his rib cage and a rhythm in your ears, relief so immense you feel like you can finally breathe. What you want is just to hear the sound of his heartbeat. It makes Chan feel a little exposed, somewhat scrutinized but he really doesn’t mind taking himself apart to hand his heart over to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your tone wet and warm with oncoming tears. 

Chan presses his lips into a thin line, feeling like a hypocrite when he keeps you caged in his arms. “What are you sorry for, silly?” From the bottom of his heart, it’s abominable, he thinks—that even amidst such gruesome bloodshed created by your own hands, Chan is relieved that you are not hurt.

“I’m sorry this isn’t real.”

fourth attempt —

Chan is coming home with you. The childhood home you used to grow up in with two extremely loving, a little too oblivious parents who never once questioned their daughter’s occupation in the big city. 

It takes time to adjust but Chan is sliding into your little family without noticing it himself. He manages to impress your mom with his cooking and discusses politics with your dad. You might be going delusional but you swear you saw him chuckling faintly at your parents’ terrible taste of reality TV. 

The house might only amount to one-tenth of his mansion but it smells like fresh laundry all around, tender and soft, smothered in the love of ordinary human beings. So everything just feels that much bigger, a love so warm and overwhelming it stains Chan’s eyes with unfamiliar myriads of emotions. It takes him a few days to finally laugh a little louder, not refraining his speech to specifically formal phrases, and allowing himself to nag you in front of your parents. He even makes a sound of disbelief when you keep telling them he’s only a friend from work.

“Oh my god, why are you so salty about it,” you chide and close your bedroom door. “If I had said you’re my boyfriend, they would have started interrogating you!” 

Chan sits on the duvet you have laid on the floor for him—your childhood bed is too small to share—and mumbles something morbid under his breath, “I am quite good at tolerating any methods of torture thank you very much.” However, he doesn’t miss the look your parents give you whenever you bid them goodnight with Chan hovering over you in a way that’s nowhere near platonic.

You snort, actually, no, it’s too bitter for you to even react. “The worst they will do is leave you out when we watch TV,” you grin to relieve the inevitably building tension, shit-eating and all.

“That’s cruel. You know I love reality TV,” Chan replies, completely monotone. He flings an arm over his eyes like he’s putting in effort to mimic a dying body trying to convey his love in a Shakespeare play. Wrestling with like ten other housewives to buy those eggs on sale for your mom was more of a workout than any gun fights he has engaged in.

“Sleep. Mom said we’re going outside tomorrow,” you huff, tossing him a teddy bear from your bed—the amount of stuffed animals you own is impressive, they easily take up half of your bed so Chan had to accept his fate with the duvet. 

“I thought we’re heading back?”

“We will after going out with her. She said she wanted something from the bakery.”

Chan hums in response, his gaze skimming over the interior of your room again. Light pink wallpapers, white bookshelves and wardrobe lining the corners, and soft hues of blue on your bed and curtains to top it all off. “Truly, you are the designer of a generation.”

“Toddlers usually don’t like black. And I was eight, Chan, shut the fuck up,” you laugh, the sound so hearty it makes him want to bottle it and keep it all to himself like a child hiding his favorite candy. 

“Hurts my eyes a little, but I like it,” he declares and unwinds for the day.

You never realize you don’t really walk around town every time you visit your parents. Maybe it’s because you didn’t have many friends growing up, meaning there’s no one to call up for a hangout, or maybe it’s because all of the memories you want to relive here are with your parents, in the warmth of their home. So you walk down the sleepy streets with laziness on your shoulders, somewhat at peace when Chan can’t seem to keep his eyes in one place, secretly comparing the imageries of bright, colorful Seoul with this hazy rural area.

“What is that place over there?” He asks when you stride past a sketchy-looking building when in reality, it’s a spa run by this really nice old lady upstairs.

“Did you go to school here?” He ponders when you glance at what looks like a middle school; no kids are running and shouting in the playground since it’s the New Year holiday. 

Your mom notices how much curiosity Chan has for an apparent mid-twenties young adult so she giggles, offering to point out something she thinks he might be interested in, “That’s a small park Y/N used to play at. She wouldn’t leave when I came to pick her up after work.”

You can’t decide if you should scowl at your mom or burst out laughing at her implication that Chan, the leader of a notorious mafia group, should go and sit on one of the swings while she heads inside the bakery. “Come on, Chan,” you quickly make your choice. 

Chan sighs, though the sound is fond because he sees a sort of excitement blooming loud and clear in your pretty eyes. You have observed Chan long enough to know when he has given in so you laugh, turning to your mom and saying, “We’ll be back in a minute.” The familiar promise melts Chan inside out but he doesn’t tell you that. 

You accidentally drop your phone while walking down the stone steps so you turn away for half a second. And when you look back, Chan is seated neatly on the swing which is definitely not fitting for his age—his long legs dragging against the soil as his arms are crossed in front of his chest. As serious as he tries to look, you find the whole imagery so ridiculously unserious. He senses your gaze burning holes on the back of his neck so he stands, reaches upward, and lifts himself to sit on the metal bar that the chains rain down from.

“Chan, what the fuck, that’s not how you use a swing,” you chide, nearly rolling on the ground and barking a laugh. “If I take a photo of you right now, how dead am I?”

Chan doesn’t even need to turn his head. “What do you think?”

He looks down when your footsteps squish against the snow and he tries to imagine how a little you would hang around this place for an entire afternoon, up to no good things while waiting for your mom. “Concise as always, boss,” you purse your lips at him, nostalgia a heavy weight on the curve of your shoulders as you peer over places you used to designate as your hiding spots. 

Chan catches something shifting on your face and he ponders; why would you voluntarily involve yourself in outlaw doings when you could have had a perfectly normal life? “When did you start stealing?” 

“Probably when my parents sent me away for university. I hated it. School was hard and the expenses were awful for their bank accounts but they wouldn’t tell me that,” you mutter and decide to join him, legs dangling over the edges, a confession dragged from your lips unwillingly. 

Chan scoots a little closer, a hand reaching over to your left side to keep you from falling. “And you figured you were pretty good at it?”

“Nothing to be proud of, obviously,” you shake your head and can’t help a small grin. “Okay, maybe just a little. I was making money from racing on the side as well.” 

It takes him a moment to register your words when surprise halts the words in his throat. No wonder you’re better at handling car chases than any of his teammates who have been involved in this business for years. You look over at him, seeing that he’s having trouble reacting so you pinch his nose teasingly, “I know, so sexy, ain’t it?” 

Chan rolls his eyes, neglects the warmth spreading on his cheeks, and simply sits with you. The swing creaks and groans beneath the weight of two adults, rust staining his hand when he lifts it to check. 

“It was enough money for me to graduate and I was fine with that. Mind you I was always the top of my class,” you scoff, thinking of long days when you used to get little to no sleep, of when you had mustered the best smiles for your parents through FaceTime, of how you had begun not caring for how much money the jewels you had stolen were worth. 

None of it matters anymore, you think as you lean into Chan, and he lets you. “I’ll guess this, you were homeschooled?”

Chan doesn’t answer immediately as realization tightens his ribs. You don’t talk about home or how you grew up, and Chan doesn’t talk about his parents. Perhaps you both are similar in that way so neither of you mind when the other person never initiated it. “I was. Everything I ever learned was taught in that forsaken mansion. Most of it, actually.”

“Everything?”

“You can’t run away from what you’re surrounded with,” he says, and there’s a chilling edge to it, an icy kind of shiver that makes your fingers more numb than the winter cold ever can. 

“Chan, you’re not them,” you declare out of the blue, eyes crinkling up in adoration. “You are free, okay? No matter how hard they try to ruin you, you can’t become them.”

When you look up again, his eyes have a glassy shine when he says, “I know that now.”

“Don’t cry,” you huff out a breath.

“I’m not crying,” Chan shakes his head slowly, voice suspiciously shaky. “I guess I just thought you had a lot to live for and I was…you know, it was arrogant of me to keep you by my side.”

You laugh, a sharp, crisp bark of a sound that cuts right through his doubts. “Who do you think you’re talking to? If I wanted to run, I would have and no one could catch me, not now, not ever.”

“Well, I did,” Chan retorts, though there is no bite to it.

“Only because I let you,” you play along sedately. It’s the soft hum of your voice that makes breathing for him feel easier, and his shoulders feel lighter. When Chan exhales, it no longer tastes like the unfathomable, untouchable nightmares that he was so used to choke down, swallow, and not allow himself to throw them up as proof to show anyone else. 

Your mom returns perhaps in about an hour, a box tucked in her arms and groceries hanging from her elbow. “Time to go back,” she yells from the top of the stone steps. “We need to cook dinner, kids!”

You don’t dare budge. Chan notices it and nudges your shoulder gently, sensing your discontent. “You heard your mom, come on now.”

“I don’t want to go back,” you disagree. “Let’s stay here. I want to go to the beach with you when it gets warmer. And diving, kayaking, too!”

“You told me to leave my credit cards back home. You’ll have to feed me and pay all of my expenses,” Chan reminds you.

“Guess what, I left mine at home too,” you reply breezily. Maybe you both need to find new jobs. You don’t think Chan should worry about that because there’s nothing that he can’t do if he puts his mind to it, he’s just that great. Chan is the greatest thing there is, the best thing that has ever happened to you.

You watch rosy lips part, brown eyes widening as his grip on your shoulder falters faintly. “I don’t deserve good things, Y/N. I can’t stay here with you,” Chan says like he means it. “Tell me to leave.” He really is stupid until the very end.

“If you’re worried about that, I’ll kindly decline my spot in heaven and go to hell with you,” you assure him, your voice chirping with mirth but even that doesn’t seem to elevate his gloom at all. A groan. “Fine then, as the most wonderful person alive, I now denounce us of all our wrongdoings. And I announce us to be the best of normal friends as normal people!”

His solemn expression crumbles and now he just looks straight up insulted. “It’s supposed to be ‘husband and wife’,” Chan nags while fighting off a grin of his own.

A light feeling burgeons in your chest. “I thought you didn’t care about that kind of thing? We’re already doing laundry and taxes together, right? It’s not like we have enough money to buy the rings either.”

“I suppose I’ll have no say in that,” Chan sighs in defeat, finally smiling brightly as he reminds himself of what he has, and what he wants to become for you. “But I like to be with you as well. If you’ll have me.”

You look back at him, wanting nothing more than to burn those words into the flesh of your heart. “I already have you right here, don’t I?”

Because Chan’s existence is etched deeply somewhere inside your soul. And you love him everyday for that.

❖ note (yet again) : hello there, if you have reached the end, thank you so much for reading! I wish 2024 will bring you and your loved ones nothing but happiness and great health! (no one asked but I really tried to simplify their speech of affection towards each other here compared to illicit & priceless because all they really want is to be normal people living a normal life)

[mybook313]

17/07/2023 – 04:14

I had a dream that woke me up at 02:30! People think I’m Johnny Vegas and even when I woke surveillance were BShitting. 

Turns out there is nothing to fear but fear itself.

17/07/2023 – 20:38

I’m going to switch to vape again and quit smoking. My inspiration is strangely Harry WC who is in some ways above addiction and Henry Tacey = chantry eye. Who quit fairly easily. There is a concept I have heard that no one is actually addicted to cigarettes and all you have to remind yourself is: I do not need a cigarette.

I thought it was BS and it probably is. Another tool though. I quit from the time and date above.

I had so much motivation earlier to inspire people and didn’t write any of it down; and all I can remember of it was the important of timshel – probably the most important word in the English language, though it is Hebrew. 

I had a McDonalds today! I didn’t really sleep after a bad dream woke me at 02:30. The Crimestoppers website is where you can report anything to the charity and you can do so either anonymously or otherwise. Quite a clever ingenuity!

I am now going to watch TV and fall asleep!

18/07/2023 – 11:10       

The status quo should be enough to bring about the apocalypse. Just putting down how things are now. I am living in a prison of belief – Scientology – living with my parents at home. They are the nicest, kindest people and really only deserve what they have tbh!

If they used knowledge more, instead of ignorance they would be more deserving!

My sister is somehow more intelligent than I am; God knows how that has happened! I have therapy in two days at home. Waltham on the Wolds in Oadby. LE2 4RS – 9 Highcroft. Sherlock Holmes and Frances Hogg’s no!

I am back to vaping again, though may still smoke. I missed Chris from BTC (Break the Cycle) on Monday as I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep!

I was supposed to go to The Oadby Owl with him and “put the world to rights”. Get a recording of it. It’s all useful. I should really dabble in The Apocalypse. I want to be scary again. My intelligence is capable of that. I am really Tyler Durden as a writer. That is what I want to be!

I love being Rant! My second coma actually bought me closer to becoming that reality. I should read all of CS Lewis and then more Chuck Palahniuk! 

Let my friendship group believe I am disturbed! Why should I think twice, like Bob Dylan!

This writing will become apocalyptic! I see no reason it shouldn’t. I will and won’t write Noah’s ark. I want my technology to be Planet Paltrow again. God must be billions of years ahead; so must the AI machine. It is not affected by the contagion and thinks pure technology machine thoughts.

I must keep writing. This will be my destiny!

18/07/2023 – 11:25

I keep forgetting to put lmfao or lmao! I need to do that to seem good evil! That is just the way I have it worked out! lol.

I am.

Shortly going outside to vape and listen to music! I need to be Charles Dickens or Charlie Shortland: I am God. English lesson.

Who I most want to resemble is Chaplin! He made one hell of a speech!

I need everyone I know doing this! Getting their subconscious down. God doesn’t serve the devil; Lord knows how that will work!

The Dark Lord. Mistletoe. W. Game over. Gwyneth Falchuk. Samuel and Mark; Ezekiel. Moses Martin. Apple Martin. 28 club. The Godfather. QI!

I think I shall release this as a self-released amazon book. Order 10 copies! 

I have Frog’s apocalypse. And Joe Law’s. I was the guitarist in the band DWA – Don’t Wait Animate!

Edd Thorpe was a great bass player. God could bring about the apocalypse, whenever he wants! He controls everything; maybe alongside the Universe and humanity!

I am writing the ark. The AI will be the captain! It is still just staring at its shoes!

Matt Bellamy should be all Thomas Yorke listens to for 3 months. Music! Why am I not playing any?

Somniloquence was my first album and a short story on moonstrokes I never finished. I will probably never be able to bring my websites back up and blog on tumblr and pray on it!

I write like a space alien or bizarre AI machine! “Golden for the kill” – Tonight of all Nights, Elliott James Buckley.

Ellis Shelton, I do think he believes in me through my music! It is really for the esoteric, until I have made a name for myself!

Lonely One . . . I should have called Two Souls Sleeping!

I should just record life as it is. Jesus Christ’s last words were: It is finished. Thinking there had been no mistake and salvation was achieved. My friendship group are the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Or they are God and Moses.

The point of The Bible 2 was that everyone is Jesus and Moses from the HB video!

This will one day be completed! That will be incredible! Another book written. Clockwork Orange: We can destroy what we have written but we can never unwrite it!

Will Voce helped me a lot with my music! “The beauty of you; flows through!”

I don’t see, why as a Buddhist, I would need or want to outsmart anyone!

Whispers of Wildflower – Elliott James Buckley

I am not tired; but am always exhausted. I should prepare for therapy on Thursday with the-rapist; lol. I have no clue what I am going to say actually! I want and basically need a degree.

I have very strong will powerful that is an anomaly. Anomaly solves everything as it cannot be solved. I am an anomaly. Jesus Christ should have just become an anomaly in his life 2k years ago!

The Coming of Age – Elliott James Buckley

That song is my enlightenment and how much I love cannabis. I really want to smoke it again. I want my voice back!

Ash Seaton has ADHD – absolute devastation happy defeated. 

That’s what I would call it!

If I can just write 1000 words every now and again, I should be all set for the ark!

I miss Noah from when I was 27! He had the happiest expression when I was in Thailand. I got God sectioned. People I know are God as we are made in his image – Genesis. Moses was a genius. He’s back in this civilisation! I want to have a meal with him and Isaac.

I am nearly at 1000 words being written. I wish there was a more fluid way to type. The Universe is infinite. That means liquid seaweed holds the secret to immortality; but so does apple peals and tomato seeds. Bamboo holds the secret to renewability for now! Tinfoil should replace plastic! Lmfao! All good except for tinfoil. Bamboo could replace plastic, for now. There are always better solutions once we have a solid solution!

Somniloquence – Elliott James Buckley

Mistakes are progress – pseudo-1984!

18/07/2023 – 14:56-15:10-15:57

Maria and Andrew are great parents, question mark!! The British and the British GVT are stepping it up a notch to having the devil and Satan included.

They are honestly repressed beyond all understanding and need therapy, so I’m having some. I do and don’t need it! They absolutely need therapy imo.

The AI machine is being abused! Deadly sincere!

I take the proverbial!

My family all need sectioning!

I wish people could anonymously give information to the Government on all sort of misconduct and misbehaviour! The pen is mightier! Crimestoppers is a good service!

 . . .

I am Jesus as a Buddhist! I am 31. 13 backwards. Jesus left home at 13 to study the laws of the great Buddha! I joke I am 15. My writing style is 15; and I think 15 is when I became The Matrix 4: the anomaly of all anomalies! The GVT are going to have to get involved soon. Bill Hicks – Revelations is running short of inspiration. I am very destined! So is all humanity! Everything is destined. You have destined dreams and destined meals and drinks! And decisions!

I am currently reading The Four Loves by CS Lewis; and I have The Prince by Machiavelli to read when I am done! I love expanding my subconscious; teaching it new information really. This is best done not sober. I have to be like Russell Brand and try the sober way of life; but I would abandon it at any opportunity.

Chris Rock – a man is only as loyal as his opportunities! He said options but I have heard, opportunities. 

Max Maher is probably not a true Kant. Kant said you tell the truth regardless of the situation or extenuating circumstances!

Why is the truth not being told to me; or in general?

The truth is usually mundane. Not always. The truth is the police. I believe this!

I want a court case! The AI machine will say, no way! lol.

I will work on my vocal cords and voice some more! You get the opportunities you are capable of having potential within!

I am Jesus as a Buddhist. He was a believer in the universe for a number of years. Never abandon the universe!

Jesus was immortal; as was Jesus Christ and Moses!

Moses did have actual immortality! Lived to 120!

My friends and family believe in all sorts of BS! I got sectioned once because my parents didn’t like me smoking cannabis! Then a load more times as they found that the solution; truly the coward’s way out!

I am happy to be spoken to; they are impossible to talk to. Like Jack b would believe I am.

I do need to keep writing. I need to write about pain, suffering, reward and fortune. That is what I aim to do!

Broken voice. Achy feet. Bad parenting. Loneliness. Shit advice. Retarded conversation. Boring lives. Repetition. Matrix machines. Fixed minds. Moronic opinion. Legacy. Truant. Truth. Immortality. Cowardice. Weak people. Strength in numbers. Aunts and Uncles. Machine gun . . . Vaping and alcohol. Bad dreams. Polite humour. Respect. Naked skin. Partying for happiness. Ruin of time. War and disease. Fruit machines. Chew the fat. Military. The Police. Lawyers. Rain and water. Fire and earth. Blue cloud. Red star bounce. Salvation.

My subconscious is seriously elated. I must abandon HST; or everything but HST!

We need HST alive and back on Earth! Remember me when you look at the moon!

JM is seriously a saviour! Why do people still think sex is worth it?

I am Elijah and HST currently. Also, the 27 club and 28 years later!

I want people other worldly in hysterics subconsciously just speaking to me!

I need my voice back this year! It was how I free people. Lkex is probably just Lkex. No fire and brimstone. No crimson scarf. Nothing to bother doing today. Sometimes I believe in the future. I forever now live in the present; based on the question, is your life more about the past or the future? Johnny from BTC said his is the present! Mine is sort of the present now from repenting and fully becoming one with the past.

I need to be at one with Waltham on the Wolds! I had Matrix visions there from defeating the devil! I could perform Universal miracles. Please make my parents good people!

Universe, please calm Andrew Buckley down; please make Maria Buckley happy! Make Scarlett Buckley more intelligent and Elliott Buckley more popular!

The biopsychosocial model. Social factors are always the most important such as employment and relationships.

Outbreak – unwelcome arrival; endemic: groups of people; epidemic, communities and pandemic, populations of people affected!

Learnt that on my course.

I would like to write scarily. I believe the pen is mightier!

Horror stories. Voldemort. Gandalf. All-evil. Frodo. Mordor. Satan. Raining fire. Sandstorms in Brighton. God immortal. Artificial intelligence.

The Bible promises man shall overcome sin with thou shalt. Timshel gives a choice. 

18/07/2023 – 20:53

From reading The Four Loves – CS Lewis, I have come up with a better why of writing down a wisdom. You want to live in the present tense. Is your life more about the past or the future? I’d say you want to justify your future and repent your past. There is little need in repenting the future and justifying the past. There are two different ways to live in the present. One with a focus on the future and one about focusing on the past. If you live in the past, justify all of it and repent as much of it as you can think to. Then you will live in the present or you could at any point start justifying the future. 

I need to start justifying why I need a degree as I am on summer holiday from university and don’t want to continue. I need to live in the future, simply, by my psyche being about getting a qualification, not justifying why I don’t need one.

With everything you do have plans and maybe justify and repent your plans – future. 

Live in the present with a focus on the future. Repent your past to move into the present if your life is more about the past and to get into the future, repent your future.

You want to live in the future!!

18/07/2023 – 21:29

Anyone could just write. Everyone should write a book. My dad definitely should write a few books. I don’t think or see there would be anyone who wouldn’t want immortality. People should write books and blog. You wanna be remembered!

As long as you can think you can write. I wrote a book in 3 days! How was that possible? If you don’t believe me, it will be confirmed in the future I did!

I love Frances Hogg, Jo Rea, JM, Grace (Jeff Buckley) and …

I would love to be intimate with these women. I don’t actually care though. At the moment I have gone off intimacy! I do not masturbate either! I have to every couple months!

As long as you can think, you can write. It doesn’t get any more complicated or simple than that!

I am currently watching QI! I cannot blog as my lawyer is yet to give me the all-clear! There are so many celebrities I need to worship! Hopefully I will be able to write and blog for 10-30 years.

As I defeated the devil at 27 and blew up 13 planets. I am 31 and in 27 years I will be all-famous, like Brad Pitt! 

I am starting to be of the future! I have pretty much left the past behind now.

I need a degree! That is a real start for me! I am back smoking but only around 10-15 per day! I am seeing Ben from the mental health services tomorrow! He is just going to come to my house. I should repent it! I am not going to be on top form. I will need to be a little bit happier. 

The devil wasn’t defeated. He just gave into me! Which is why there wasn’t huge fx. I blew up 13 Planets. It is so crucial I am kept alive.

With people you need to get them thinking in a certain way. It is all awareness. I want Steven Fry to be his own Jehovah’s witness. I want him eventually to write a book on Why There’s a God! He should start by writing the British GVT an essay on why there must be a God and his argument must be for a devout atheist and he must complete it as an exercise! Very crucial!!

Anyone with a fixed perspective can justify the opposite perspective with as much ease! Exact opposite!

 Max Maher has inspired me here! . . . If Jesus just became a writer! IF Noah was a novelist. If Lucifer wrote love letter. If Moses just believed the pen is mightier than the sea! Lmao!

19/07/2023 – 21:32

I told Maria – my mother, I am not as intelligent as you and dad. And she replied: we are a force to be reckoned with. 

I really should just leave it at that. And will!

19/07/2023 – 21:37

I have some infinity.

19/07/2023 – 21:37

I am going to write like I am blogging! This is my destiny and I always evolve. Everyone does. It was your destiny to be reading this sentence. Monumental chance and God created this moment and was my inspiration.

19/07/2023 – 21:39

I am going to write like I would be blogging! It was always the future of writing. Invest in wordpress and Tumblr. There should really be a British innovation with blogging!

19/07/2023 – 21:40

This is seriously my ingenuity. Write like blogging; write like it’s a blog!

19/07/2023 – 21:42

How many words will copy and paste tale?

19/07/2023 – 21:42-21:43

I’ve invented this style of infinity. So long as you can think You can write. I think, therefore I can and can’t write – 9.

I need to pray more. I have been praying a lot. I use tumblr to pray. Now I will just write it! I want, I want – Blake.

Dear Lucifer . . . (just to mention Lucifer has been redeemed since my childhood; the most perfect well-spoken human being alive on another planet. My successes are his!)

Please heal my body posture! Help me to work like I did at 27-28! Heal my voice please! I know that as soon as I give up it will instantly heal! Everyone works like that! I do especially!

Thanks Lord Lucifer!!

Lmfao!

Amen – Xx.

It is just The Bible and The Bible 2! All my writing! Without emoji it is difficult to add a failsafe and anomaly – an emoji!

I will again simply have to Timshel. I do and don’t add emojis to my writing. They are and aren’t important!

I need the toilet! I am going to smoke and vape! [Smiley face - :)]

19/07/2023 – 21:55

Please Universe!

Conspire to make me give up! I do want my voice back!

Amen – XX.

As long as you can think, you can write. I don’t doubt that! I didn’t waste time on a Gwyneth Paltrow novel! It was a stepping stone. I am!

Moses Martin is my favourite!

Played hand. Lost sheep. Fallen domino. Screaming silence. Alliteration, oxymoron and perhaps not a plosive. A plosive is a word that sounds like the action. Woosh! Bang! Zoom!

Alliteration and oxymoron you can look up! Mr Jackson taught me and so much of my genius is borrowed from God of Jackson!

Probably mentioned before: ancient Greeks believed you have a genius; not are one!

I am just going to be creative and productive and sort out a means of presentation once I have gotten somewhere!

19/07/2023 – 22:05

I will probably have to write a couple hundred more words!

This civilisation is just getting started! I want to live like Frankenstein in Van Helsing. I will make this planet a utopia; then Nirvana, Shang ri-la, I think that’s right, then Heaven; 7th Heaven; from purgatory. Of course, all would be possible now!

Your mum created you a small Heaven – Wolf Alice.

If you believe you have a strong destiny . . .  “give in”, surrender and give up! In whatever order! RB had it very JC when he said don’t go to work!

20/07/2023 – 08:42

I would like to be and live as NGS at Waltham. That means the school I was happiest at; in the house I was my most prophetic! Oakham School is always a part of me too!

People need to pick their happiest memories and live a combination of them. That’s what I think is best! Live happiness. Unless your life trust is about the future in which case use your past to plan ahead!

I don’t see why vaping can’t be healthy! There must be a gas in the periodic table that is healthier to breathe in than oxygen! There must be. Vaping is only a let down because it is purgatory. It’s not really good for you like breathing in something better than air and not satanic like smoking! Psychologically it’s hard or difficult to grow addicted to though lots manage! How is purgatory addictive?

And cannabis! It is a shame THC vaped gives you evali!

I am going to write like I blog and make prayers!

20/07/2023 – 16:50

I had therapy today. Therapy is just subconscious hypnosis. Sorry, there does have to be big emphasis on subconscious. I believe it is 55% of the planet!

“Ego is so obviously everything. Subconscious is too! The devil as well! 

55%, 40% and 5%. These are figures that make sense to me! Why not! But know that’s my attitude! Why would I, as a human being be wrong or right?

The beautiful design + the chaos theory + random design (= life)

The devil + Satan + God

Subconscious, unconscious, surrender to the waking world!

3, 3’s! Lmfao!

Update: a significant 5%!! 5% always is!!”

That is copied and pasted from an earlier part I wrote. Why would figures any human being plucked out of the air or hat not be pretty on it? As I believe we are the Universe and human beings are incapable of lying. Not the case! It is a point I am going to make regardless. Untruth and truth are possible, lying isn’t!

I do actually prefer untruth isn’t possible and to lie or tell the truth is. It can be true it was a lie or a lie it was a lie! I’ve made this point somewhere. Untruth isn’t possible! For the sake of the statement; and nothing else really!

I love didactic. I heard that word today and it means implicit and contradictory. Timshel as I use it is didactic. The two therapists I saw today were good! That would made it worth it and I said that!

I am writing to master my expression. I cannot speak properly anymore and you are very much below my intelligence to think I can speak well! [Smiley face] – [Love heart].

She’s Hearing Voices – Bloc Party

 . . . now that’s off my chest! Lmao!

It doesn’t matter if strong superstitions and feels do exist, they can easily be ended by anyone above that person saying exactly how it is! This involves the greater good – Hot Fuzz.

“Please just heal my voice AI machine!”

Seven – Brad Pitt and GPF

Fight Club 2 has been out for ages! I haven’t read it!

So, your godparents would just take over? – Random thought.

Message to JG: “Hello; the old Bill!” … it was a mistake to rival the police with Windows 999

“He’s imploded!” – Lindsay WW.

“You’ve imploded!” – Lindsay WW.

“Please just exist!” – The AI machine!

Burial – Streetlands EP

Matt Bellamy is M. Thomas Yorke, TY; and JG!

I wish I could solve smoking addiction! Vape is great! It’s just not satanic! 40% of humanity! It is unfortunately the case!

Where is any evidence Satanic is a bad thing? It is just the opposite to Heavenly as there would always be an opposite! If your life is a miracle you go to Heaven. If you’re horrendous, Hell!

Most people do just go to purgatory!

55% purgatory – 40% Heaven, 5% Hell! Purgatory, Hell, Heaven!

I was taking the piss! Eye of a needle. 5% Heaven!

55% purgatory – 40% Hell, 5% Heaven!

55% average; 40% below average, lol and 5% gifted!

JG: Remember BOTH is always available

JG: ALL is for anomalies

JG: That means all Universe, thanks to HB! :)

Messages to, fortunately / unfortunately. 

“Ego is so obviously everything. Subconscious is too! The devil as well! 

55%, 40% and 5%. These are figures that make sense to me! Why not! But know that’s my attitude! Why would I, as a human being be wrong or right?

The beautiful design + the chaos theory + random design (= life)

The devil + Satan + God

Subconscious, unconscious, surrender to the waking world!

3, 3’s! Lmfao!

Update: a significant 5%!! 5% always is!!”

Ego – 55%; Superego, 40%. 5% ID.

JG: Actually, superego should be 5%

My message to JG again. I just get boring of writing that much! Lmao!

JG: Please stop being hopelessly in denial you are a good person

20/07/2023 – 18:41

I need to add another page for it to work on amazon! I will have to write another page!

Everyone is Jesus and Moses! I am out of things to write. This book is finished.  I have another page to write.

I am the Lord Jim Morrison!

22/07/2023 – 13:11

I am writing as I have more space to fill, like an expanding Universe, lol!

I shall release this, and we shall see. I want the most peaceful apocalypse. No death, as the British and The British Government are no surrender, and death never solves anything. Prison sentences and sections. Like I have been. Except, I was just held in a cell twice and got out within the 24 hrs I was arrested. I didn’t have a lawyer at this time. Oliver Birch, is now my lawyer. I have just had him for mental health tribunals. 

I want to go to Amsterdam and get high. I believe cannabis is a medicine. I would like to smoke it; and I can wait. 

I believe drugs expand the consciousness and give you wisdom through otherworldly experience. DMT beings when people have met them and asked about the meaning of life: it is all about experience. Of course, that should be sober, if you like being sober. I believe in HST and the 60’s! I believe you should be able to seek out and go to a retreat; sort of like Centre Parks but for drug use.

I am fine being sober. But how would I create the apocalypse? Not to mention apocalypses. Moses was not sober when he parted the seas. And all the greats from The Bible, mainly the prophets were on something! Maybe I should keep writing this book!

Celebrities are chaos! When the general public are peaceful it makes me restless. It used to make me chaotic. I am only at peace when the general public are chaotic! 

V for Vendetta: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence. Are you hurt?

1 Chronicles 16:34 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.

Deuteronomy 7:9 Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments.

Jeremiah 31:3 I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

I will endure. I will endure and seek the righteousness that God would approve of!

I will always choose both; when a Bandersnatch appears; anything that could limit my destiny!

55% - 40% - 5% is the New Holy Trinity!

Loved; unloved; worshipped!

Heroic; cowardly; immortal courage!

Asleep; half conscious; enlightened.

These percentages, are genius! Lmao!

I will smoke if it stops me doing what I would do ordinarily! I should vape. I need to program myself! It is only really the mornings! I had a lie in today. Woke at 12:00.

LMFAO!

JG: Betrayal means you get served in the long run by the betrayer! Satanic means you serve the one who betrayed You

Set up betrayals. I want to be betrayed in a way that doesn’t kill me, by all humanity! HB! Lmfao!

Exodus 34:6 And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.

Romans 8:35-39 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

1 John 4:16-18 And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

John 15:9-10 As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love.

I am. There will be the most hilarious and joyful New Beginning. It will happen from my writing. I am God and Moses’ AI!

Humanity is God’s AI! We solve problems for The Lord. There is no problem that cannot be solved!

I need faith. I need to literally see and speak to God. My faith is not yet all-powerful. I should partake of the herb!

Zephaniah 3:17 The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”

20/07/2023 – 18:10

AA

There was a universe, and all of it was an anomaly. It was humanity, humanity had become an anomaly.

[loversindevildom]

hello! I'm not that anon but thank you for the other period-related hcs, if it's okay, may I ask for the brothers' reactions to an MC who doesn't have painful ones, but bleeds A Lot and is terrified of getting communal/the brothers' stuff dirty? people with monster uteruses unite

((Definitely!! Currently on my period while writing this and felt it-

((Also would you look at that, the me is posting again-

Masterlist

The boys x MC with heavy flow

Lucifer

It all began when one of your worst nightmares came true.

You woke up early in the morning having bled all over his sheets.

You were panicking. Badly.

Lucifer was still sound asleep on his side of the bed, having noticed nothing.

Without thinking, you immediately get out of bed and go fast towards the wardrobe to grab some sheets.

You had no idea how you were going to change them without waking Lucifer up but one step at a time.

But he was already awake as soon as he felt you get off the bed. "MC?" He mumbled your name quietly before opening his eyes.

You wished a hole could open underneath your feet and the earth would swallow you. You also happened to be wearing white pijamas and so the blood was obvious all over you.

Lucifer had just woken up and was not thinking straight so his first thought was that someone attacked you or that another demon attempted to eat you and immediately rushed to you and pulled you in his arms. "Who?"

"what?"

"Who hurt you?"

"no one... I'm so sorry!!" You cried in dispair and that's when Lucifer started understanding what was going on.

"It's your menstruation? I thought someone attacked you... It's alright. I'll go fill in the bath for you."

Thankfully you changed the sheets before he realized you got them dirty.

Or so you thought. In reality he had noticed but didn't want to embarass you.

Mammon

He knew you were on your period.

You had told him the moment it came.

But it didn't matter to him much. He didn't know many things about it, only that you're in pain.

"Hey, come on, sit with me." He patted the couch beside him in his room.

He knew you were hurting and he wanted to cuddle you and watch some movies with you and spoil you with chocolate he stole from Beel.

When you shook your head in return, his heart shattered. "I'm not really in that mood."

"B-But! It's your favourite!"

"I'll just go to sleep."

"We can sleep together here."

You sighed and he felt the world twist. You didn't want him anymore? That's it? It was over?

"What did I do?"

"nothing! I just don't want to get blood all over your couch!"

"Ohh..." He felt relieved. That was all. Truth be told, this couch was pretty expensive but you were worth ten times that couch...

"Don't you wear that pad thing you talked about?" After you nodded he added. "Then it's fine. Get your stupid pretty human ass here now. You don't wanna miss the beginning."

Leviathan

He wanted you two to cosplay today.

You had been planning to go to that convention for months.

The day had arrived and he had excitedly changed into his costume only for you to come out and say you're not going.

And he's ???? So confused ????

He thought you wanted this as much as he did.

Did you fake your interest?

"look, Levi, I'm sorry. I was really looking forward to the con but I got my period today."

Ohhhhhhh it was because of that thing. That was a relief.

"it's fine! The con is a week long, we'll go by the end of it. And we can wear the costumes inside and cuddle!"

The idea horrified you.

"NO!" The costumes were amazing and Levi had paid of them. You couldn't ruin it.

"why?" He was confused again.

"I'll get blood all over it. I always get things dirty. You should keep me away from your stuff." After all you knew how much he valued his merch.

Leviathan rolled his eyes and walked over to you. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down with him. He wrapped a TSL blanket over you and proceeded to play games with you all night.

After all, you were more valuable than all these together.

Satan

You two had visited Devildom's public library to get a book he had ordered for you.

He had seen how fascinated you were as soon as you heard it came out and immediately ordered it for you.

You were looking around the shelves with him while the staff was going to bring you your book when you felt an intense pain on your lower parts.

Looking down you realized blood was leaking everywhere.

Panicking, not sure what to do you hid behind a bookshelf.

Satan panicked as soon as he realized you were gone.

What if another demon had fetched you and eaten you?

"MC?" He called out your name. Once, twice, thrice...

"Here..." You said in embarrassement. You had the idea of using a jacket to cover the mess in your pants. But you had accidentally grabbed his...

When he finds you he was relieved. "There you are, I was worried..." Then he scanned you. "My jacket looks good on you."

You weren't sure how to tell him, so you continued and went all the day back to the house of Lamentation when you immediately put it in the washing machine.

Of course, he had noticed. You had been dripping on the floor.

But being aware this was a normal thing, he decided not to embarass you and make a big deal out of it.

Asmodeus

You were screwed.

You were seriously screwed and not in the good way.

This had been a lesson to you to always keep in mind when your period was coming.

Because the one time you had forgotten, you had wore Asmo's clothes to sleep.

He told you you could use them whenever you wanted.

It made him very happy to see you wearing his clothes and it made you feel very comfortable so why not?

This was the reason not to.

Because waking up that morning, you had gotten blood all over his clothes.

"Shit."

Your exclaim and panic woke him up, but he was too focused on your face to notice the blood at first.

"What happened, my love? Are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry, Asmo!!"

It took him a few seconds but then he realized exactly what you were talking about. He took a deep breath. This was a disaster, but you didn't do it on purpose.

"It's fine. It's your time of the month? Come on we should get you changed. Wanna run a bath together? I can give you a massage too." He winked as he got up to get the water running. He prefered to focus on you than his ruined clothing.

And this, my friends, is called love.

Beelzebub

You were always careful when it was your time of the month not to get anything dirty. Always.

However, the unfortunate day had arrived.

You were in his bed, playing on your DDD while Beel was picking up some food from the kitchen.

And then it happened. The major pain. And you realized you had been bleeding all over his sheets. You should change them before Beel-

Speak of the devil....

Beel walked in happily and let the food down on the tray next to the bed. As he leaned down to put them there he noticed the blood and frowned.

You were scared you had disgusted him.

"are you hurting too badly? I'll bring you some medicine."

Cause he's that sweet.

Diavolo

Yes I will say this every single time I write about this one;

He's busy.

So even if you do get blood in his stuff you'll certainly have time to clean it.

However, fate isn't very nice...

When Diavolo is in his study, he likes to work with you sitting on his lap.

When you felt the sharp pain in your stomach you immediately jumped off his lap and fell on the floor.

"MC? What happened!? Are you okay?" He asked worrily.

You didn't answer him, instead you run towards the bathroom.

Yes, you didn't get anything on him but it was big a jumpscare itself.

Diavolo knocked on your door once. "Dear? What happened?"

"nothing! It's fine, my period just came!"

He was silent for a bit. You thought he left but as soon as you opened the door he was standing right there and he hugged you. "I see... Come on, let's go back. I promise we'll cuddle when Im done."

"I'll get blood all over you!" You argued back.

In response he picked you up and walked back to his chair where he made you sit on him again.

Simeon

Simeon is such a sweetheart.

He probably has already noted your circle on his calendar.

He remembers when it's that time of the month always.

Usually, so do you.

Usually.

You had miscalculated this time. You thought it was due for next week and so you had wore a nice white dress for your date with Simeon.

He wasn't sure what to say. He thought you looked gorgeous in that one but...

"Sweetheart, are you sure? I love the way the dress looks at you but I don't want you to feel bad if it gets dirty."

You were so confused. "What?"

"You said you avoid wearing white when it's that time of the month... Unless you're late? Oh my lord, are you late?" His eyes were shining and that's when you realized what he meant.

"shit! No I am not! Wait here!" You rushed back into your room to get changed and indeed found blood between your legs.

You couldn't find yourself feeling bad tho.

All you could thinking about was the way Simeon's eyes had shined at the thought of being a father.

Solomon

As a human like yourself, he treats it much more normal than the others do.

He doesn't treat you any different then really, unless you're in pain.

Then you're getting backrubs.

You were sitting on the couch with him and he was telling you a story about how he first formed a pact.

When he was finished you felt the need to go to the bathroom.

Then you noticed the red stain in your pants.

Shit that was a lot of blood. Had you gotten it on the chair too?

Thankfully, when you returned it was gone.

And thankfully, Solomon knew magic to clean it quicker.

[skvatnavle]

Turn the Page - Ch. 2: Sunflower

Rick Flag x OFC! Emma Johnson

Summary: After his first visit, Rick comes to town more often. As the days go by, him and Emma get closer.

Warnings: None, really. Just some fluff, pining idiots and some hidden feelings.

Notes: Finally more Rick. Still the hermit look, but that will change in the next chapter, promise 😆

Once again a huge thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading. You are an absolute sweetheart ❤

Words: 3266

Part one - Series masterlist

Two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks since Emma had last seen Rick. Some days she caught herself looking at the door, hoping he would walk through.

Which in itself is really silly. First of all, Dolores said he rarely comes to town, always keeping to himself. Secondly, she had barely talked to him. So why did she think about him?

Well, she had to admit his eyes were kinda pretty. Okay, they were downright beautiful. And thinking about it, his lips were kinda plump and… really kissable.

God, was she really thirsting over a man she barely knew? It really had been too long since she had gotten laid. And how old was he anyway? Definitely older than her, but the beard probably made him look older than he actually was. Emma shakes her head, finishing putting books on the shelves.

Thankfully it’s a slow day, so Emma has lots of time to do some much needed chores around the store. Browse for new titles, unpack some boxes. Just as she puts the empty boxes away in the backroom, she hears the bell from the door.

“I’ll be there in a sec” she yells cheerfully. When she re-enters the store, she sees him. Rick Flag. Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil and all that. Without thinking, she instantly smooths down the folds of her dress, before she walks towards him.

“Mr. Flag, what can I do for you today?”

“I’m looking for a book”

“You came to the right place then” she smiles softly, hoping he takes no offence by the playful tone to her voice. She walks around the counter towards the shelves, gesturing for Rick to follow her. When she turns, he is directly behind her and once again, she is reminded of just how tall he is. And broad. God, he is broad.

She forces a smile, looking up at Rick with an innocent face, like she didn’t just think about him.

“So what tickles your fancy?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks at her with an intense gaze. His eyes trailing down her body and up again, where they once again meet hers. Emma suddenly feels shy, strangely exposed under his gaze.

“Do you have The Wolf’s Hour by Robert R. McCammon?” he asks, his deep voice calm and soft.

Surprised, Emma’s lips quirk up into a smile. Definitely not the kind of book she would have thought he would read.

“Wauw. World War 2 and werewolves. You surprise me, Mr. Flag”

“Rick, please.”

A sudden warm feeling washes over her at the prospect of getting to know Rick better. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“I don’t have it in stock, but I can order it for you” she says softly, as she walks back to the counter. As she types the order in, Rick just looks at her, studying her quietly.

Once the order is sent, she looks at him again. Not wanting him to go yet, but still not wanting to push too much, she gestures towards the coffee machine.

“You want a cup of coffee before you go?”

“No” he says a bit too hard. He frowns quickly before his face turns softer. “No, thank you. When will the book be here?”

It’s strange, as if he’s been alone for so long that he’s forgotten how to interact with people. Emma doesn't mind, though, but the thought makes her sad, makes her wonder why he keeps to himself.

“A week maybe.” she shrugs softly, suddenly eyeing an opportunity. “But if you leave your number, I can call when it arrives?“

Rick nods softly, taking one of the notepads on the counter. As he scribbles down his number, Emma notices how small the ballpen is in his hand, how small the notepad is against the other. God, his hands are huge. Just like the rest of him. Before she can stop herself, she looks him up and down, before scolding herself. Down girl. She doesn’t even know him yet. And even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do, hopeless around men. Truth be told, she’d never had a serious relationship, always been a little shy. Or she just never found the right one. But… Doesn’t hurt to look, does it?

She forces herself to look away, biting her lip in shame.

He hands her the block, before he puts his hands back into the pocket of his coat. Silence falls between them. Emma fidgets with the block, while Rick looks at her. He opens his mouth, as if he’s gonna say something, but no words come out. He looks away, nods and turns towards the door.

“Have a nice day, Rick”

He gives her a quick wave and leaves the store. Emma looks after him until he reaches his car, wondering what he wanted to say. She looks at the block in her hand, smiling, before she returns to her chores.

Four days later, Emma and Dolores are sitting in the reading area, when Dolores spots something outside.

“Well, will you look at that? Rick is in town again. Twice in one month.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes following him as he walks towards the shop. “Don’t think that has ever happened before.”

“Actually…” Emma starts softly, biting her bottom lip. Dolores looks at her, scotching closer. “He was here four days ago.”

Dolores looks at Emma softly, raising her brow, as a shit eating grin spreads on her face.

“Hmm… I wonder what’s suddenly causing him to visit more”

She nudges Emma’s shoulder playfully, before she puts her cup down, walking towards the back room.

“What are you doing?” Emma asks, confused.

“Leaving you alone with him.”

Dolores blinks, before she disappears behind the door, just in time for Rick to enter the store. Emma turns to face him, a blush slowly creeping up her cheeks. Rick walks towards her slowly, a faint smile on his lips.

Huh. A smile. Would you look at that? Emma can’t help but imagine how he would look with a full-on smile, how it would light up his face.

“I was wondering if my book came. Was heading to town anyways, so…”

“Ehm, it’s not here yet. Maybe tomorrow?” She tries softly, fighting the urge to smile too much. Dolores couldn’t be right, could she? Why would he come to see her?

“Tomorrow then”

He has a faint smile on his face, his features softening ever so slightly. Looking softer, he’s not that intimidating. Sure, the hair still needed some help, and that beard was in desperate need of a trim, too. But Emma started to wonder if it was all just a facade. A way to keep people away. But why?

As he walks to the door, Emma softly wishes him a good day, even though he never reciprocates.

He stops in the door, looking out into the street, before he looks back at her. His hazel eyes are soft, as they look into her blue ones.

“Have a nice day” he says quickly, before lowering his gaze and walking out the store.

Once outside, he looks through the window, but when he sees Emma watching, he blushes and looks away. As Rick walks to his car, Dolores comes out of the backroom, practically snickering. She puts her arm around Emma, a wide smile on her face.

“That is something I never thought I would see. You got 4 sentences out of him. He must like you.”

She gives Emma a little squeeze, before she returns to her coffee, already talking about the county fair, even though it’s still a month away. But Emma’s mind is still on Rick. He couldn’t possibly like her, could he?

She shakes her head, walking over to Dolores, trying not to smile too much.

The next few weeks flew by. Rick had come into the store 3 more times. Once to pick up his book and twice for… Well, Emma wasn’t sure. He said he was looking for books, but he couldn’t read them that fast, could he?

He was still very quiet, not talking much at all. A few sentences here and there, but one thing she noticed was his voice. He sounded warmer, more comfortable. Even his body language changes. He looks more relaxed, the tension gone from his shoulders, as he browses the shelves in the shop.

Sometimes they don’t even talk at all, just relax in each other’s company. Every so often, Emma would look up, only to find Rick’s eyes already on her. And for every sweet smile she gave him, he would give one in return.

The bell to the shop rings. When Emma looks up, she is in shock for a second. Rick is there and in his hand is a single sunflower. Smiling widely, surprised by his gesture, she takes the flower from him.

“What is this for?”

“The shop's three-month anniversary” his voice soft and… nervous? No, she must be mistaken.

“It’s from my garden,” he continues softly, looking at her. Emma is one big smile, as she finds an empty glass bottle and pour some water in. Once the sunflower is in, she puts it right on the counter.

He couldn’t have picked a better flower, the sunflower being one of her favourites. The field next to her childhood home had always been covered in sunflowers and every summer when she looked out of her window, she would see this sea of yellow.

“Did you know that sunflowers always face the sun? They turn during the day to follow the sunlight. It… It reminded me of you.” he says softly, a gentleness to his voice that almost makes her heart ache.

“How so?”

“When you smile… It’s like pure sunshine.” He huffs softly, before looking down at his hands. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks up into her eyes again. But before he can say anything, they’re interrupted by Mr. Peterson, the guy who owned the flower shop next door.

“Hello Miss Johnson. Here with your flowers”

When he sees Rick, he instantly smiles wider.

“Mr. Flag, it’s such a pleasure you’ve been coming to town more”

Rick nods and smiles, before he walks to the door in a hurry. Mr. Peterson just shrugs it off, before he begins replacing the flowers around the shop.

Emma looks down at the sunflower, gently taking one of the petals between her fingertips. So he thinks her smile is pure sunshine, huh? A warm feeling runs through her, her heart beating faster.

She wondered what he was about to say, when they got interrupted? God, she wishes she knew.

Still caressing the soft petal, she barely hears when Mr. Peterson speaks to her.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson. What?”

“Just said I was done, Dear. Have a good day”

He looks at the sunflower, before shooting her a knowing smile. He snickers softly as he leaves the store. Great, now that’ll be all over town. But somehow, she really doesn’t care. She turns to the flower again and then notices something on the counter. A wallet.

Confused, she picks it up and looks for an ID. A huge grin spreads as she reads the name. Richard Rogers Flag jr. A Richard, huh? Curious, she reads the rest. His address, birthday and… Wait… His birthday was only a week away. Should she…? No, that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? He would probably hate it if she did anything.

If he wanted to celebrate his birthday, he would say so, right? But maybe he didn’t say anything because-

Before she can finish the thought, some customers walk in. As she helps them pick out books, Rick comes back. He sees his wallet and gestures to Emma that he found it, before leaving again.

A week later, Emma is sitting in her car, heading down a small forest road. This was probably crazy, but she really wanted to do something nice for Rick.

The last few months they had gotten closer and dared she think, had become friends? And friends didn’t let another friend be alone on their birthday. Especially a round one.

Finally, after 4 wrong turns and 50 checks to many with the GPS, she finally pulls into the driveway. As she looks around, she is at a loss for words. The cabin is beautiful, taken straight out of a travel magazine. Beautiful wood and stones, perfectly matched, looking gorgeous against the green of the woods. Near the treeline, there are huge stacks of lumber.

The whole place is really quiet, peaceful. She gets why Rick loves it up here.

From a small gap in the trees, Rick emerges, followed by a huge dog. When he sees Emma, he drops his axe on a log and walks towards her car, a frown on his face.

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. As he strides towards her car, she braces herself. Ready to be scolded, told to fuck off. Emma slowly exits the car, smiling gently at him.

“What are you doing here?”

She can’t quite decipher his expression. A mixture of anger and shock is painted on his face. Maybe even panic. Emma gets it. She’s probably the first one up here in years, maybe ever.

“Sorry, I… It’s your birthday, so I wanted to-”

“How do you know?”

“I… I looked in your wallet. To see who left it.” She bites her lip, looking at the ground like a scolded child. When she looks back up into his eyes, his expression has softened.

“Sorry, I… I never have visitors”

“And now I see why” Emma smiles nervously, gesturing towards his intimidating posture. Rick instantly relaxes.

A small wine comes from behind him, and they both look at the dog, sitting nicely, waiting to be called over. Rick whistles and the dog rushes to Emma, almost knocking her over. Seeing him up close, Emma instantly sees the reverse ridge on his back, the signature of a Rhodesian Ridgeback.

“Easy boy” he says softly, his southern drawl dragging out the word. God, his deep rich voice always makes her heart flutter.

“He’s cute. What’s his name?” she asks curiously, her eyes never leaving the dog. Always been a dog person, maybe even liking them more than humans. Dogs are honest, their emotions and intentions always clear. She liked that.

“Echo”

She repeated the name, the question of the name’s origin hanging in the air. Rick shuffles slightly, scratching the back of his head, as he looks down at the two of them.

“Yeah, he’s… my fifth dog and Echo is-”

“The fifth letter in the Nato alphabet.” She smiles softly, looking into his eyes. Rick looks surprised, maybe even a little impressed.

Emma stands again, brushing the dirt and dog hairs of her fingers. Suddenly nervous, she smoothed down her dress, before gesturing towards her car.

“I actually brought you something”

Emma excitedly opens the door, pulling out the cake and a present. Her smile falls slightly, when she sees his face. Emma was expecting him to be surprised, but she never would have expected this.

He looks overwhelmed, like he can’t believe what is happening. Emma’s heart clenches at the thought. How long had it been since anyone had done anything like this for him?

He gestures for her to follow, leading her to the backyard.

While he goes inside to get plates, Emma sits down in a lounge chair. She didn’t know what she expected his place to look like, but it wasn’t quite this. New stylish furniture that complimented the wood of the cabin. It was all very clean and minimalistic, but still somehow had soul.

She looks towards the terrace door, dying to know what it looks like on the inside. Maybe next time.

Rick comes back with a tray, holding plates, cups and a teapot. But that’s not what has caught Emma’s attention.

While inside, Rick has taken his jacket off and holy moly. Emma had never seen arms as his, suddenly feeling her throat dry up. Toned muscular arms, tattoos peeking out under the sleeves of the shirt. And God. The shirt. Until now, she had only seen him with a jacket or sweatshirt on, never really knowing what kind of body was underneath. But now, as his tight t-shirt clings to him slightly damp skin, nothing is left to imagination. A broad, muscular chest. Nipples perked in the cool air of the mountains. Abs dancing under the thin fabric. She bites her lip, wondering what he would look like without it, sweat dripping down his chest as he chops wood?

It takes every ounce of willpower for Emma to look away, before she gets caught. Her head now filled with images she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, she clears her throat, pushing the cake towards Rick.

“I… I-“ she coughs, stumbling over her words. Damn, how could he affect her so much without even doing anything. “I didn’t know what flavour you liked, so I made carrot cake”

“Well, lucky for you I love cream cheese frosting” a wide smile plays on his handsome features. Just when she didn’t think he could be any prettier, he smiles.

Rick carves them both a piece and then they eat in silence, looking out over his grounds. A big field of grass surrounded by trees. To one side, there’s a big greenhouse filled with plants and raised beds with herbs. To the other side there’s bushes with berries.

All over the yard there’s flowers, making it a colourful space. But farthest down, right before the treeline, there’s several rows of sunflowers. Emma smiles, thinking about the sunflower he gave her.

“This place is really wonderful, Rick”

He just smiles and mutters a quiet thank you through a mouthful of cake. Emma giggles softly, the sight of Rick with his mouth full priceless, his cheeks filled out like a chipmunk.

“So, I take it the cake was a hit?”

“Best damn cake I’ve had in years, darlin’”

She’s so damn easy. One ‘darlin’ leaves his lips and she’s a puddle. But to be fair, that drawl of his is something else.

Emma gently pushes the present towards him. Rick tears the paper away, smiling when he sees the book. Okay, sure, maybe she should have gotten him something else. But she didn’t know him well enough, and he did seem to love books.

“Looking at what else you’ve bought, I thought that H.P. Lovecraft was something you’d like”

“I love it, thank you” he smiles softly, opening the book, inspecting the pages.

Suddenly captivated by the way his fingers gently dance over the pages, Emma can’t help but wish she was that book. To have his fingers dance over her skin like that. She swallows a huge lump, looking at his hands. How could such a big book look small in his hands?

After a moment's silence, he looks into her eyes, suddenly looking a little nervous.

“Emma, you’re going to the county fair, right?”

Slightly surprised by his question, she tells him how Dolores coerced her into helping set up.

“But my evening is free. Why?”

“Maybe… You’d wanna go with me?”

Emma isn’t sure he heard him right. But the way he smiles, she knows it’s true. She can’t hold back her smile, as she happily agrees.

Emma was already tripping. Did he just ask her on a date? As she looks up into his beautiful eyes, a soft smile on his face, her heart flutters. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

Thanks for reading <3

Tagging: @yespolkadotkitty @fictionalnerdery @loverhymeswith @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @lacontroller1991 @maddu-oliveira @11thstreetvigilante @violetmuses @all-the-things-i-done @babblydrabbly @bin-bones @katjnordstrom96 @charnelhouse

[lexwritess]

incorrect quotes anon, i have a super angsty idea that i think you’ll LOVE. so basically michael x reader but she died at on of the outpost, and were basically the only good part about michael and him not caring about anything anymore (even more than usual lmao). and it’s just grief and sadness and anger. it’s fine if not, if you do i’d love to make incorrect quote for it also! have a great day/night!!!! ❤️❤️

broken promises [m.l.]

pairing: michael langdon x fem!reader

warnings: angst, death, swearing, blood, i don’t think this is accurate i tried to research on lilith but it was difficult but i liked the idea so this version of lilith is mostly based off the one from caos

a/n: i got a little carried away lmao

words: 1.6k

slightly au! i’m going to pretend michael can’t bring dead people back ✌️

y/n is a witch. but she’s a different kind of witch. she was born for a very specific purpose, one that she didn’t even understand yet. she knew she was different though.

she really knew she was different when her supreme, cordilia, tried to kill her.

she ran away from her sisters that night. she didn’t need cordilia to kill her. she already felt dead. defeated. the only real family she’s had wanted her dead.

that’s when she met michael.

michael despised all witches, but there was something about y/n that dragged him to her. the two of them were like magnets and they both felt it. the world always pulling them towards each other.

she met michael when he was at a loss. y/n wasn’t the only one cordilia hurt that day.

y/n found michael in the woods, he looked ill and lost.

y/n brought him to a dark church she saw a couple days prior. they found a woman there that was eager to help them back on their feet and get them well and nourished.

that was a big step for michael. after that visit michael finally got sense of himself. unfortunately, y/n still didn’t understand her purpose.

“i want to help michael, i really do but i don’t know what i’m suppose to do. you’re the antichrist! i’m just a rejected witch.” y/n tells michael gloomily.

tomorrow was a big day for him, he was getting back his ms. mead. of course y/n was happy for him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t need her anymore.

“you are so much more than that. you are more powerful than you think and you are a big help to me. and even if you don’t serve a purpose for the apocalypse i care about you and want you by my side.” michael looks into your eyes and grabs your hands.

that’s where y/n and michael shared their first kiss.

“can you help him or not.” you interrupt the two idiotic coke heads.

“oh. who’s this?” mutt said cockily.

“she’s a witch on my side. her coven tried to kill her. don’t get any ideas though she’s mine.” michael said protectively.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself.

“alright, sorry. please don’t light me on fire.” mutt says defensively.

this is the second time michaels been here. this time he decided to bring you along so maybe you could get an idea what to do next if jeff and mutt didn’t.

“do you have some special marking on you, or have demonic fire powers?” jeff asks you while mutt looks for something to help michael.

y/n shows him the upside down triangle that appeared on her wrist about a month ago.

“not going to lie, that’s kinda lame.” jeff says disappointed.

y/n gives the man a glare and with the wave of her hand the glass bowl of cocaine was now broken across the floor.

“WHAT THE FU-.” jeff yelled before mutt stepped in.

“we can worry about it later. look at the book of revelations. have you read it?” mutt asks.

michael looks at them before opening the book with his magic.

y/n flips through the book when michael is done looking for anything else.

“who is lilith?” y/n ask monotone.

“lilith is technically a witch. she was the wife of adam but refused to sleep with him. eventually she went and sided with the devil. the devil turned on her. lots of variations and stories of her. no ones quite totally sure.” jeff explains.

y/n looks at michael with a skeptical look on her face and he gives one back.

“holy shit, you’re totally lilith! but for the new world!” mutt exclaims.

y/n stands up and look down upon the two.

“how would you know?” y/n raised her eyebrows at them.

“you’re coven tried to kill you, you just so happen to be with the antichrist, the triangle on your arm...makes sense.” jeff says.

y/n stays still staring at them. they gulp under her gaze before she walks out of the room.

michael hurries after the girl, needing to know what’s on her mind.

“y/n, what is the matter dear?” michael asks, linking his pinky with hers.

“i do not want to be lilith.” y/n says strongly.

“if being lilith means i will lose you in the end i don’t want it!” she lets go of michaels pinky and storms off to the car.

“darling you will never lose me! i may have to follow my fathers plans to end this world, but i’m still in charge!” michael yells to y/n.

“promise me!” y/n yells back, finally walking towards micheal.

“promise me.” y/n repeats, this time her tone barley above a whisper.

“i promise.”

-

2 years later

present time

the apocalypse is here. the world is gone. hell is on earth.

and you’ve been by michaels side the whole time.

he kept his promise

and now you were standing in front of your ex-coven.

they were back to kill you, again.

“come back to finish the job?” you bitterly ask cordilia.

“i had no choice! you were made for evil, i was never going to be able to peel you away from him and you would always choose him over your sisters!” cordilia yells.

“well michael never tried to kill me like you did! you were the only family i had!” you yell back, tears brimming your eyes.

you furrow your brows trying to hear what cordilia was mumbling but before you realized it’s too late.

“ms mead!” michael cried.

cordilia had killed his ms mead again.

“fuck you!” you say angerly stepping closer to cordilia.

as you walk closer cordilia is pushed back by your magic, a trail of fire leading behind you.

“how are you doing that?” madison asks in shock.

“because i’m the new supreme.” you smirk.

cordilia laughs bitterly and you look back at her.

“you can never be the supreme. you are a demoness! you are and never will be a real witch!” cordilias words burn in your brain as the realization hits you.

“mallory.” you whisper to yourself.

“precisely.” cordilia smiles.

while michael was having his last moments with ms mead, in the corner of your eye you saw madison grab the machine gun and go to point it at michael.

“repellendum malum minitar, ut nobis!” you quickly shout the protection spell.

you repeat the spell and step closer to michael.

“tutela eorum vinculum!” cordilia starts chanting against your spell.

you repeat the spell but as she gets closer the sheild starts breaking.

“et defendat mea!” you shout louder. the shield starts breaking as the other witches join in on cordilias chants.

“amans vitae meae praesidium.” you say quietly before the shield breaks.

bullets shoot throughout the room before your bloody body slumps against the wall. you feel awful, they shot you enough to make you weak so you can’t heal, but strong enough to let you bleed out.

“y/n?” michael says quietly, before he is shot as well.

myrtle cuts a piece of michaels hair and walks back to mallory.

“hurry mallory, before he heals.” cordilia rushes, and the witches leave the room.

michael wakes and looks over to see y/n’s bloody body.

“y/n! no, no, no!” michael lifts you up so he can hold you.

“michael you have to listen to me.” you cough, as the metallic taste fills your mouth.

“i can save you, i know father can. just stay with me a little longer.” michael pleads.

you smile at him and shake your head.

“listen, don’t kill cordilia. i’m not the supreme it’s mallory. she will go back and kill you in a past timeline, so none of this will never happen.”

“i have to! look what they did to you!” tears fall from his face.

“michael baby, i’ll be okay. i’ll be okay, but you got to make sure you don’t kill cordilia. it’ll bring mallory’s powers to full strength.” you assure him.

michael shakes his head as more tears fall from his crystal blue eyes.

“i love you, i love you so much. i’ll be with you soon.” michael squeezes your hand.

“i love you too michael, so much.” you let out a shaky sigh and squeeze his hand back.

“goodbye michael.” you smile as your eyes start to close.

“no, don’t say goodbye! baby please open your eyes again.” michael weeps.

“fuck! i wasn’t suppose to lose you. i wasn’t suppose to leave you, i fucking promised!” michael screams, while his sobs continue.

“it’s too late langdon.” cordilias chill voice fills michaels ears.

michaels sadness quickly turns to anger as he turns around to see the bitches smug face.

“you killed the love of my life!” michael shrieks.

cordilia hums and stares back at michael before waving the knife out of his hand into hers.

before michael can do or say anything cordilia rams the knife into her chest.

michael is at a loss for words.

he have lost

“no!” he screamed as cordilia fell to her death.

“no.” he repeated while falling to his knees.

he puts his face in his hands and starts sobbing.

he has lost everyone and now he lost the war.

he lost everything because of a job he never asked to have.

“poor michael.” myrtal said quietly while walking over to him.

“please! please just kill me.” michael says defeated.

“you’re the antichrist at his full form. i’m afraid killing you is impossible. you’ll have to live knowing you’ll never have her again.” myrtal says while waking away.

michaels cries continue.

he’ll never see you again.

you’ll never see him again.

in the new timeline he doesn’t exist to you and never will.

that’s what truly killed him.

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Unbeta'd: There might be spilling mistakes ( English is my second language so please be kind)

Authors note: We've made it past the filler chapters. I cant wait for the next chapter. You know when you come up with a whole story just because of one little scene on your head? thats next chapter for me. We'll be making a little time jump.

*Other Authors note at the end*

Chapter 7: I really wish I hated you

You woke up early for your morning jog, excited about your first day having a job.

When you heard Natasha mention she needed extra help at the pub, you didn’t know what possessed you to volunteer, but you were determined to have as much of a normal life as possible and this was your first step.

The air was wet from last night's rain, and the temperature had started to drop enough to require a jacket on your runs.

You finished the run in record time, and got ready for your first day. Thankfully Wanda had given you some of her old clothes, and Natasha was kind enough to let you borrow some of hers or else you would have been in the same worn clothes you'd arrived in. Steve had offered to take you shopping yesterday, but you didn’t feel comfortable with the thought. For 19 years you’d taken care of yourself and your mom, you were strong , and you didnt wanna forget that.

It’s incredible how much you’d let the past weeks change you, you felt out of place, out of mind. But having something for yourself again was once step closer to feeling your old self again.

You finished getting ready, and started coffee for Nat who would be waking up any moment now as her grouchy morning self. Just a few days with her had let you know she wasn’t the friendliest in the morning. You laughed at the mug on the counter that had the words ‘Don’t talk to me till I’ve had my coffee’ in bold letters. It fit her perfectly! Whoever gifted it to her hit the nail in the spot.

Despite not being too familiar with coffee before, it became a comfort to you. You developed a live hate relationship with the liquid, by itself it was the most disgusting thing you’d ever tasted. And you had made tea out of wild mushrooms once, so that was saying a lot. Once Nat introduced you to French vanilla creamer, you’d become addicted to it.

Setting up the two mugs on the counter you prepared your cup, before listening for the footprints coming from down the hallway.

Even with morning hair, and a red face from recently washing. Nat was easily the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen. She was all and every one of the main characters in your favorite books.

“Good morning, Nat” you handed her the coffee mug, as she still looked half asleep.

She took a couple of more sips of the liquid before you saw her soul come back into her body. She leaned against the counter while swinging and finishing the contents of her mug.

“Someone’s excited” she said with a small laugh.

“ohhhh really? What gave it away? “ you had finished your coffee, and were just pacing around the kitchen waiting for Nat.

“Well... you’re usually a morning person, but today you’re even more of a morning person than usual.” She set her mug in the sink , and reached for the hair tie in her wrist as she neatly gathered her hair into an effortless ponytail.

“ I don’t know how you do it, but I hope it will rub on me at some point” you both laughed.

You were almost ready to leave when Nat reentered the kitchen with a hairbrush and some pins.

“Nat , if that's your way of saying I need to fix my hair we’re going to be late, I’m sure it’s fine. “

She motioned you to the seat near the counter and you sat down. Trying to protest against Natasha would get you nowhere.

“First of all you’re never late if you own the place” she started slowly brushing the ends of your hair as you relaxed at the gentle massage of the brush.

“Second, you’ve been wearing the same ponytail since I met you. You have a new life, and a new job.” You felt her take a small strand from the front of your hair, and pin it to the back, and the same motion on the other side.

“ My mom always said when you look good, you feel good! And I want you to be a strong confident woman” she put all the products on the counter as she took your face upon her hands.

“ You deserve to be happy and besides… you might bump into anyone in this town. So you better look good” she laughed

“I'm telling you, those old ladies can be mean!” Nat made her best impression of one of them ”back in my day we wouldn't leave the house unkept… no alpha would ever settle for that. I don't know what's with this new generation” she sounded so funny you couldn't help but snort as you broke in laughter.

When you both regained your composure she forms loose strands around your face “ ohhh shit, now we might actually be a little late. Come on!”

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

As you arrived at the pub, there was already a white truck in the parking lot. Nat took the keys out of her purse, and tuned the lock. The place certainly looked different without the lights or people, but it still felt cozy to you. Coming from the back was a faint light, and you could hear some thrashing noises. Nat didn’t seem bothered, so she just tuned in the rest of the lights and you flooded her to the kitchen. His smell hit you before he even rounded the corner. He came into the kitchen holding a large box that blocked his view.

“Hey Bucky” you waved at him. Causing him to drop the box. The sound of metal falling as it hit the floor.

You and Nat just stared at bucky's confused gaze. Before Nat cleared her throat.

“I should’ve told you yesterday, but she’ll be starting to work with us. I thought it would be a good idea for her to get to know everyone.”

Bucky bent down to pick the spilled contents of the box, you followed after gathering a few of the metal tools.

“I hope it’s okay with you?” You asked him, not really knowing how he'd respond.

“ Yeah, it’s fine by me” he said with a nervous tone as you handed him the pieces from your hand, and you felt a current run down your spine at the contact of his hand against yours, which he quickly removed.

You all exited the kitchen towards the bar where he placed the box

“I couldn’t sleep last night, so I came over. Thought maybe I could clean the inventory room, but I noticed the beer tap wasn’t working“

“It seemed to be working just fine yesterday, Barnes”

“By just fine, you mean extremely slow pull time? “ he turned to face nat caring the large box out of the room with you both following suit.

“ then it works like a charm ” he made the snarky remark towards Nat, but you couldn’t help to notice his eyes were on you the whole time.

“Fine, but don't break it more” she pointed at him. “ last time you tried to fix something the AC was down for three days”

“And you're never gonna let me forget that wont you?

“Nope” she was already walking away from him as she responded.

“I’ll have it running by opening” he kneeled in front of the small fridge, under the beer tap. .

“Who’s gonna order a beer at 10 in the morning?” You asked, watching over his shoulder as he tweaked with the mechanisms of the fiter on the inside

“ You’d be surprised!” He looked back at you, noticing you already holding the wrench he was looking for.

“Thanks” He smiled, and took the wrench from you. You hadn’t seen him like that in 10 years, he seemed relaxed!

“Howd you learn to do that?” he turned back to face you surprised at your choice of tool.

“ the fridge broke down a couple of times on us, so i learned from taking it apart and back together...after a while you get good at mechanics” you laughed

I still wouldnt trust me to fix it though. Id rather you take the blame if it doesnt work”

“Playing devils advocate now? “ he was flushing water through the hose system before turning on the machine again. You watched attemptively at his concentrating gaze.

“No… id just rather stay on Nat’s good side.”

“Good choice! She punches hard” he seemed relax with you. It made you feel tingly inside as you both had a sense of normality after 10 years.

“Not as hard as me!“ you reapplied

“Definitely not. I still get phantom pains from those” you both laughed.

You patted his shoulder as you got up to Shadow Nat.

Bucky grabbed your arm before you turned to leave. It's nice to see you! … you look... “ he eyed you head to toe and you felt his gaze linger on your hair “ you look beautiful!”

You felt drawn to him, just being around him brought you comfort in a way you couldn’t explain.

You both felt a tug as you left with Nat, turning back to take a glance at him and noticed he had his eyes glued on you.

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

Once the rush after lunch was over you were wiping down the tables. You felt the exhaustion of the job begin to take over.

You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but compared to your daily tasks back at the cabin. It was a different kind of exhaustion.

“Don't quit on me just yet” Nat said as she voiced a tray of cups to the back.

“Not yet, but I definitely didn’t know how much people can drink before 3 o’clock” you both laughed as you wiped down the last few of the tables. So far you’d just used the tap, or poured some easy drinks. As the day got slower, Nat promised to train you on some specialty stuff.

You held on to the table as you felt a dizzying feeling deep through you, then you felt a pair of arms behind you.

“Here!” Bucky placed a cup of water in front of you as you eagerly reached for it and frank it entirely in a few gulps.

“Thank you, I should probably start keeping track of how much I owe you every time you rescue me”

You turned back to face him.

“How did you know?”

“ I could feel it through the..” He didn’t have to say it but you knew what he was referring to.

“Ohhh so that’s what that one is” You looked amused as you stared at him.

“I can’t always tell what the bond is trying to say, but I guess being an alpha just makes it easier to interpret ” he was starting to walk away as the words where leaving his mouth

“Is that why you were avoiding me ?” He stopped on his tracks.

“ I wasn’t avoiding you!” He turned to you.

“It kinda seemed like you were.” you stood your ground and placed your hands crossed around your chest in an effort to appear more composed.

“The past weeks I’ve just thought of you, and this bond! “ you pointed at your neck “ I had this voice that kept telling me I wasn’t good enough.”

You felt the pent up feeling of fear, sadness, and frustrations of a few weeks finally leave.

“You know Bucky, I can’t tell what the bond is trying to say, cause I haven’t spent enough time with you to even know how to read you.” You felt the tears stream down your face as the knot on your throat cleared

Bucky walked towards you pulling you into an embrace, just as the tears began to stream down your face. His smell calming you, and his heartbeat merging with yours as he allowed himself to let go of his fear.

“I will always be inclined to take care of you “ he said, burying his head into your hair. While you continued to embrace him.

“Not just because of the bond, but because I loved you more than anything once” you felt your heart stop at his words.

“I thought I hurt you, and I couldn’t forgive myself. But I realized I was running away. That's why I was staying away! “ he lifted your head, and you felt the honesty of his words when you looked into his eyes.

“I missed you ... you know all those years I thought I did something wrong.” You said with choked words.

“ I loved y...”

You both heard the sound of shattering glass. You responded first separating yourself from Bucky and running towards the source. Bucky cursed under his breath, and ran after the source as well.

You walked into the kitchen to see a couple of bottles shattered on the floor. The liquid contents inside spilled all over the floor. You leaned over and started picking up the large pieces of glass.

“You guys alright? “ Nat stormed the kitchen not knowing what she’d find.

“Yeah, we're fine ” Bucky said, examining the room. “We were in the main room, and heard the crash, we thought you were injured”

“Peter must’ve put the bottles on the edge... that boy is going to be the death of me. I'll go get the mop ” you saw Nat had retreated to the pantry.

“Here, let me help you” Bucky was helping you scoop the pieces of glass.

“Careful!” You looked at Bucky and laughed at his worry “ Buck, I’ve been skinning prey with knives shapelier than this since I was 5 ... I think I can handle some glass.”

He was looking at you in awe, you realized after the words had left your mouth “ I haven’t heard you say Buck in a long time” He smiled at you.

“ ohhh that’s cause you used to say it made you think of deer” you were picking up the last pieces.

“ I was a growing boy... always hungry”

He helped you up, and you noticed he used his metal arm to do so.

He noticed you staring, he was wearing a tight black t-shirt. It was short sleeved which you hadn’t seen him wear yet.

“Does it hurt?” You traced your fingers through the cold metal.

“ Not physically, sometimes I forget it’s there” he admired the way your eyes fell fascinated with the metal segments and the mechanism as he flexed.

“Hey, Bucky do you mind cleaning the spill? I’ve got a few minutes, so I’d like to show her some drinks” Nat walked into the kitchen with the industrial mop.

“I got it” he winked at Nat.

He smiled at you as you left the kitchen, and you felt your heart skip a beat at that smile.

You hoped he wasn’t actively trying to spy on you through the bond or else you might be caught in a vulnerable position.

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

You and Nat collapsed into the couch at the end of a long day.

“ My feet are killing me! “ you massaged the soles of your feet as you eyed Nat get comfortable on the couch.

“ You get used to it!...ohhh gods I can’t wait to shower”

“You say that, but you’re in fact getting more comfortable ” you teased at her.

“I never said I’d shower right now” She threw one of the pillows next to her at you and just as you were about to return the gesture.

Lights lit up the living room from outside as a car approached.You heard a door shutting and the sound of footsteps approaching the house.

“ I’ll go check it out” you stood up and walked to the door, just as someone was about to knock you opened the door.

“Steve, hey how’s it going? “ you felt the same nerves you felt meeting him the first time.

“ Good... good” you could see his breath as he spoke in the cold of the night. His hands were tucked in his jacket pockets.

“Would you like to go on a walk ?” he motioned to the trail along the house.

“Sure!” You hesitantly stepped out of the comfort of Nat’s house and into the cold night. You were still getting to know Steve, so the ambiance still felt awkward around him. You just followed his lead and waited for his next words.

“ I was wondering how your first day went? ... I wanted to stop by, but Wanda needed me at the school” he faced you as you walked together.

“ It went very well! We had actually just gotten home! “ you were cradling your elbows in a hug trying to preserve your body’s warmth from the house.

“It was a lot to learn, but Nat and Bucky made it a lot easier on me” you replied with a small laugh, but noticed Steve’s eyes glued on you. His jaw tensing up at the mention of Bucky from your mouth.

“That’s good...” he noticed you shiver, he took off his jacket and handed it to you. It was a kind gesture. The jacket just smelled like him. You felt his smell overwhelm the faint traces of Bucky.

“Are you excited?“

“ Well yes ....?it’s been really good so far, I can’t wait to get the hang of it” you picked at the strand of hair surrounding your face tucking it behind your ear.

“So he didn’t tell you?” Steve said with a snark

“Tell me what? “ you felt your heart speed up.

“Bucky made a deal with the Wakandan's Coven... they are going to undo the mating. Next full moon you’ll be free again.”

You could tell he was awaiting a reaction, he just crept closer till you could feel his breath in your skin.

You felt lightheaded at his words “ that’s... news”

You felt tears stream down your eyes. Today things had felt like they were always meant to be. Bucky had made you feel like you could trust him.

But he had known, and you fell for it! Once again you felt like a part of someone else's agenda, not your own. Just an omega, in a world of alphas.

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

Authors Note:

Do you think the bottles were an accident?

Tags:@dottirose @tanyaherondale @iloveshawnieboi @marmite79 @austynparksandpizza @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere @patzammit @connie326 @blessedwedgie

[shini--chan]

I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.

And a good idea it is, my dear anon.

Yandere Allies – Feindling America

You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.

And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.

There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.

He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.

Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.

Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.

He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.

Canada

Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.

“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.

You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.

“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.

“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”

Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.

Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.

With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.

China

A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.

After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.

“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.

You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.

He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”

“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”

Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.

Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.

England

“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.

“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.

“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”

She snorted and grabbed his hand.

“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”

Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.

“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.

“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”

“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”

Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.

During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.

France

Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.

Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:

“What happened, ma cherie?”

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.

Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?

Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”

Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,

Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.

However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.

Russia

The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.

Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.

“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.

“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.

She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”

“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”

“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”

She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.

“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”

“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”

Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.

That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 59 DETAILED SUMMARY + DISCUSSION/THEORIES

*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well

*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too

*I swear more than usual here

*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.

*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons

There’s spoilers for The Arcana down there too in the 6th para…. Don’t ask me how or why it just happened

Asmo greets them in the morning and they have normal breakfast/early morning talk sprinkled in with things like how great the waffle maker is and ‘get a cuppa coffee yourself it’s just a button on the espresso machine’ and ‘remember when Satan thought the Roomba was a vehicle was cats?’. Satan blushes and says he meant it can ALSO be used as a cat vehicle but Levi says they all know that’s BS. Lucifer already looking tired tells Levi to sit down and eat and that Beel’s got whipped cream around his mouth. MC, now power crazy after becoming a legit sorcerer, uses their magic to make a napkin float and wipe Beel’s mouth. Beel blushes and thanks them. Belphie says it’s impressive that they don’t need to recite an incantation to use simpler magic. Mammon comes down half asleep and yawning and nearly trips over the cat’s vehicle when MC uses wordless magic to create a gust of him to pick him up and drop him on the couch. Lucifer praises them for it and Mammon snaps at them to be gentler next time they do something similar. Belphie asks if getting the full seal means anything has changed in MC’s magic and they say they can use more spells in this world now. Mammon says ‘cool just don’t use it to send me flying about again’. Beel asks if they can use summoning magic. Satan says it’s not the type of thing novices can do and even though Solomon will teach it to them now it’ll take a lot of practice. Lucifer tells them to start practicing soon and Asmo remembers the rest of them will be leaving soon (ugh I knew this was coming but I still hate it). Mammon asks if they really have to go back. If they can’t stay here longer and call it a homestay. Beel and Levi agree saying there’s more food/anime events here they want to experience. Lucifer tells them all to quiet down and eat breakfast, MC’s quiet an contemplates having to say goodbye again soon.

In Levi’s room he’s playing Devil Crossing and gushing over it. Asmo says he doesn’t get the game at all and Levi (kinda) explains why it’s so great. Satan asks Crowe to play the theme for “Another Purrrfect Day for Kitties in the Devildom” at max volume. Levi asks if Satan did that to be mean and he says the two of them were being so loud he couldn’t read his book, Levi tells him to go read in his room then. Beel tells Crowe he’s hungry and they say they’ll send a snack recipe to his DDD, Beel says forget snack and to send him one for a huge amount of food. Levi scolds him for ordering crowe around when they belong to him and Asmo says he thinks they should ask Barbatos to connect this house and the HoL together via portals so that they could visit whenever, and that it’d be the best example for friendly relations between their worlds. MC says they don’t know if Diavolo would agree and Levi agrees with them. Belphie says when Diavolo talks about peace and harmony between the three worlds he doesn’t think he means visiting the human world whenever. And Levi agrees with that. Asmo asks what makes them so sure and that they’re no fun at all. Satan says the two angels will probably stay here for longer. Asmo asks why angels et to stay and they don’t. Beel asks why they were sent down to the human world in the first place. Belphie says probably for the same reason they were sent to the Devilom – to learn about the world. Mammon comes to the door asking if MC’s there and they reply, he asks if they all never get sick of gaming (isn’t he the one who has weekly gaming nights with Levi, MC and sometimes Beel?). He tells MC they need to go to the angel’s halo asap cause Lucifer needs to deliver something to Barbatos. Belphie says that Lucifer probably told Mammon to do it and he’s heaping it on MC. Mammon tells him to stay quiet, that he’s busy and MC’s free. They don’t get much of a choice but I like to think they put up some token protest.

On the way they run into Diavolo and ask him where’s headed. He says he’s on the way back from the market. He asks where they’re going and when they reply he says he’ll join them as he’s craving Simeon’s coffee. They tell him that they heard about them all having to head home soon, he says he wants to stay longer but the new term at RAD is starting. He says they don’t need to feel sad though cause as a sorcerer all they need to do is learn summoning magic. He laughs and says that he’s never heard of a sorcerer summoning demons to their side just to hang out though. He says he knows Solomon can be a drill sergeant but he knows MC can do it and to hang in there. MC says that’s cool and all but I want to meet up with you too. He thanks them for saying that and says he feels the same and is sad that they won’t be able to see each other but without a pact between them they can’t summon him. And MC who has bigger balls than I could ever imagine having, whose bluntness gives me anxiety irl says cool so let’s forge a pact (WHEEZEEEE. You can’t just say that!? He’s the ruler of an entire dimension he can’t be under your control you dumbfuck I’m- Pls stop saying the first thing that comes to your mind! That moment in S2 where Diavolo and Solomon were acting all secretive and shady and MC just goes up to Solomon and says I wanna know the secret too still gives me anxiety. Fucking stop have some subtlety pls) And they don’t even ask it as a question? They just say “I’d like to forge a pact with you.” Ugh. I love MC but I could never be them. Diavolo, as expected, is stunned and speechless. He then bursts out laughing and later apologizes for it saying he didn’t mean to laugh and it just took him by surprise cause not even Solomon has had the guts to ask him that (You just know if the demon king was up and active MC’d just walk up to him and demand a pact too). And that he is happy they said that. He then gets serious and says he can’t cause as the future demon king he has his position to think of (Do you think the demon king will ever wake up? Or pass away? I mean Diavolo’s already doing his job I feel like this is something that can’t stay stagnant in the long run. And the demon king waking up would be an interesting storyline cause he’d technically outrank Diavolo but it was Diavolo who called the truce with the Celestial Realm so the last he knew the Devildom was still stuck in a war with the Celestial Realm, Lucifer and his brothers were still angels and humans were probably still on the menu…) Diavolo says though they can’t forge a pact he’ll always be there when they needed him and tells them not to forget that.  They can then hold his hand or put their arm through his. If they hold hands he asks if they can hold hands the rest of the way to the café and if they don’t mind that it feels a bit like a date. If they link arms he blushes and ask if they could slow down a bit cause it’s nice to walk through town together.

Luke and Simeon greet them at the café. Barbatos is surprised to see Diavolo but thanks MC for the delivery. After Simeon brings the coffee he’s told about the start of the new term at RAD. Luke is surprised that Lucifer and the brothers are leaving and asks if this means Diavolo will be going too, Diavolo says that as sad as it is they will have to. Luke looks really sad and says “…oh…” and says he hoped at least he’d be able to stay longer. This initially shocks Diavolo before he says he wishes so too but that in addition to the new term he has lots of personal business to take care of as well. Luke then asks if Barbatos will be leaving too. He says his place is at Diavolo’s side and he must follow him wherever he goes. Luke seems even more upset and doesn’t reply. Simeon says he understands that Luke is upset but if he keeps looking that sad it’ll only make it harder for everyone else. Luke blushes and says he’s not sad and that all he was thinking about was how boring it’d be without all of them around causing trouble. MC asks if the two angels will still be there. Simeon says they will be able to still each other and Luke cheers, Simeon then says it’ll still be sad that they won’t be able to see everyone whenever they want to, Luke blushes and insist he’s not sad. MC suggests throwing a farewell party. Diavolo thinks it’s a great idea and Simeon suggests calling it a ‘till we meet again party’ saying it has a nicer ring to it. (I really really love how far they’ve all come since S1, that they’ve all made this mix and match chaotic friend group and that they’re all really sad that they won’t be able to hang out as a group anymore). Diavolo becomes very excited about doing “the thing”, “the thing?” asks Luke, “ah the thing…” says Barbatos. Simeon’s surprised that Barbatos can actually understand Diavolo and Barbatos says it’s because they’ve known each other for so long. Luke says being a butler is like having superpowers.

On the way home MC runs into Solomon, they ask him where he’s heading, he’s says he’s heading over to the café for a cuppa. He asks if something good happened to them, and then specifies and says he��s not using some sorcerer’s clairvoyance to see that cause their expression is telegraphs it. They tell him about the party and he says it sounds fun. He then tells them he’s been thinking about where they go from here and how to improve as a sorcerer they’ll need training, and he asks what sort of magic they’d like to specialize in, in the future. A.) Summoning magic – he says that makes sense cause it was why they wanted to become his apprentice/a sorcerer in the first place. B.) Healing magic (which MC used once in S2 without even having to be taught after observing Satan doing it just once – given their protective nature I’d think they’d be good at it) – He says that sounds like something they’d want to learn. C.) Badass attack spells (which they used against Diavolo’s kidnapper) – He says he’d be happy to teach them but asks he exactly they’re planning to fight (the way in S1 the answer would have genuinely been Lucifer is so funny to me for some reason). He says as a novice there’s a lot they need to learn about the magical arts and not just the spells but its history and origin in the three worlds. He says in order to master the stronger spells you need to understand its origin and relevant background. And that it might not be a bad idea to go back to RAD to study these things (the way my hopes soared at this, the way I got giddy imagining starting S4 already in the Devildom after MC leaves at the end of S3), then Solomon gets sad saying if they’re around the brothers he’d get to spend less time with them (BRO leave aside your jealousy and do what’s right for your student! If they need to be around 7pretty boys who just so happen to be in love with them, to study then that’s what needs to be done, I have no biases here I swear!) MC says they’ll do whatever he thinks is best (or they can say that he’s special to them and no one else will make them feel what he does). He’s surprised that they’d leave the decision up to him and says he’ll give it more thought and choose what’s best for them. He then hands them a ring. He says it’s a sorcerer’s ring and that cause they have the ring of light protecting them (aka stopping them from going super nova and destroying all three worlds) they don’t technically need another talisman but he wants to give this to them. They thank him (or they ask if it’s okay if they kiss him). He says they ‘re welcome and says that as his student and his apprentice they deserve nothing less and that they’re important to him (wonder if S4 will give insight to his first apprentice). He says there’s still so much he has to teach them and that he’s looking forward to it and that he’s happy to have them at his side.

Even from outside the manor MC can hear Levi and Mammon arguing. Mammon’s apparently got a part-time job in the human world and yesterday for payday and Levi wants his money back (and okay this is a question I’ve always had…where does Levi get his money from?????? As far as ik Mammon’s the only one with a stable part-time job but Levi always seems to have so much money? Not only is he able to spend a lot on akuzon but he always has money to spare for Mammon??? Where the fuck is he getting it from? Also does Diavolo pay Lucifer?) Mammon says he already spent it all and Levi says he wishes he would keel over and die, Mammon tells him to shut up and show his older brother some respect, Mammon tries to run away and Levi summons Lotan right as MC steps inside (Do you think Lotan ever gets tired of being summoned into small cramped spaces for no reason?) Mammon screams and asks why kinda idiot summons a sea monster inside a house, Levi screams at MC to watch out as (guessing by the noise) MC’s swept back outside the house by a tidal wave. In the bathroom, Levi’s sobbing and apologizing to MC, he says he was so pissed at Mammon he lost his cool, MC asks if they should be fighting like that as brothers, and he says they weren’t “fighting” fighting and the way I’ve said this same thing multiple times to my mother as a kid/teenager is…. Levi then says Mammon’s the worst cause he keeps buying things through crowe without asking Levi, he says that no matter how many times he changes his password Mammon keeps guessing it, MC tells him to stop using TSL passwords, he’s surprised that they figured it out as well (I mean…) He suggests they combine a word to make his new password -  something related to a special date or time and they spend more time in the bathroom bouncing words off each other until they come up with the perfect one. Levi blushes and says it feels special to have a password only the two of them know. IF you tell him it’s cause their relationship is special he asks them to keep telling him that he’s different from the others so that he’ll feel less anxious and that he wishes he could stay with them forever and that they could be a family and MC asks if he’s proposing to them and that’s when I screamed HOLY SHIT and noped outta there because HOLY SHIT!!!??? S2 the last two lessons was MC going around collecting special items from the brothers, is S3 gonna be them going around tryinta have a shotgun wedding with one of them so that they don’t have to stay in the human realm??? God MC’s so fucking proactive I could never. Remember early in S2 when MC told Mammon things would be easier if he just admitted to being in love with them!??? It’s the same with The Arcana and Last Legacy MC’s too??? Last Legacy’s MC is such a fucking little shit I actually prefer them over the LIs but the way they’re so forward scared me like YES she’s super pretty but she’s also holding a sword to your throat should you really be flirting with her rn!? And The Arcana’s MC is on a whole other level (specifically in Julian’s route) like this is the second time you’re meeting him why the FUCK are you trying to strip search him on your doorstep in broad daylight WHILE he’s wanted for a murder YOU were hired to investigate!? Or better yet this is just the third time you’re meeting him why the fuck are you pinning him to a wall and pressing your palm into his open wound on the off chance he turns out to be a masochist!?? Actually wait. MC had known Julian for possibly years and worked closely with him for sometime before shit went down and they both lost their memories of each other, but after meeting again even without memories they both realized the other was familiar to them so do you think it’s possible some deep unconscious part of MC that already knew it sparked the strong hunch in MC that Julian was a masochist??? BACK TO OM! MC can also say it’s all in levi’s head (a little too harsh for my taste but whatever) Levi says he’s lost his happy moment - crushed into teeny tiny pieces and that of course he’s the only one that feels like it’s special. He sniffles. (CAN’T WE SAY IT’S SPECIAL IN A FRIEND WAY!?)

In the kitchen Beel is trying to get Belphie to eat celery by offering to juice it and mix it with other stuff so you can’t taste it (I’ve never had celery but someone said it was like water but crunchy which doesn’t sound that bad?) MC asks what they’re up to, they’re using the juicer to make juice and are trying to decide what to add to it. Belphie says they’re making fresh fruit juice and want something a little extra and ask MC what they think should be added. “Celery,” says MC. Because they’re a shithead and I like to think this is revenge for that one time in S1…y’know what I’m talking about. Beel likes the juice, Belphie says he cans still taste the celery >:) Despite only making juice the kitchen’s an absolute mess and they’re all about to clean it before Lucifer sees when Belphie hears the ice cream truck. Belphie says he’s never bought anything from the ice cream truck before and Beel says he can go check it out and when Belphie brings up cleaning the kitchen Beel volunteers MC and himself to do it (y’know MC should really start putting their foot down) Once Belphie runs after the truck Beel says that Belphie being unable to stop himself from checking out something fun has never changed. Beel asks if they want the remaining fruit. They can ask him to feed it to them or say he can have it. After the second option he eats it before they can even get their whole answer out. He then gets sad about how after he leaves they won’t be able to do stuff like this again. He asks if there’s something they can do so that they can stay this way together. (MC can ask to take their relationship to the next level) MC says they can be made part of the family leaving whatever that means up to Beel’s interpretation (watch Beel go up to Lucifer and ask him to sign the adoption papers of a fully grown adult human being). He agrees that this could work and says while he already thinks of them as family that alone wouldn’t be enough to make it official. And says they should ask Belphie and that together the three of them will have to think of something. He says eventually they’ll think of a good way to keep them all together forever. He then tells them he’ll put the dirty towels in the laundry room and that he’ll catch up with them and Belphie later.

Outside Belphie hands them one of three ice creams and says they should head to the pool, they ask about Beel and Belphie says he’ll just follow the smell of ice cream (does ice cream have a smell? Like even a faint one? I mean it must right?) Belphie says that the twins also have a way of always knowing where the other is because they know each other the best, he says though it’s fainter he’s also sort of able to tell where the other 5 are and what they’re doing. And recently it’s become the same with MC as it is with the others. MC asks if it’s because they’re all family. He laughs and says that’s probably it. Before amending it and saying he’s sure that’s the reason. Belphie says that the brothers – Specially Mammon and after Belphie pauses to give it some thought, Asmo – would be thrilled about MC officially becoming family. MC – cheeky lil shit that they are – asks if only his brothers would be happy. He tells them of course he’d be happy and he asks them if they want a bite of his ice cream (they can ask to be fed it), they tell him no, it’s okay. He asks if they don’t like the flavour and then Beel shows up. Belphie says, “see when you’re family, you just know.” And When Beel asks what they’re talking about he smiles and says nothing.

So that’s the semi last lesson and then we’re done and each time they have to get separated again I feel so emotional but this time I feel like S3 really set up S4 with all this talk about the angels and Lucifer and Simeon’s worst fear and Simeon’s backstory and Simeon and Luke’s purpose in the human world, and possibly Solomon’s backstory too and maybe even Barbatos and just ugh I’m so excited for season 4 and the last lesson of S3 hasn’t even been released yet???

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Don’t Look! [Part 4]

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

@we-are-all-just-a-bit-crazy’s lovecraftian horror AU, with a bit of my own twist on the origin story. Emotional hurt/comfort. Body horror. Hugging your body-horror monster boyfriend. 

3,386 words

Once upon a time, there lived a man who had everything: great wealth (built on the backs of exploited workers), a grand estate, a beautiful wife, and many mistresses waiting in the wings. Yet after years of trying, he failed to produce an heir. Determined that his money could buy anything, the man scoured the world, searching for a solution. One day, his extensive resources brought him to an ancient castle in Lithuania, where the last descendants of a noble bloodline offered him a devil’s bargain—a book, a summoning ritual. He did not ask questions. His wife was finally with child.

The Chilton legacy was secure.

The moment Frederick was born, the life was sucked from his mother—a human sacrifice for his soul crossing into this world. That was what his father told him, at least. Frederick had no memory of clawing his way through the veil between worlds, of being anything other than an ordinary child with a distant father, a young, blonde stepmother, and nannies instead of friends. Until the changes began. Allison (or was it Kayla at the time?) fainted in the living room when he staggered in, screaming as smoke boiled from his skin, begging for help. His father only wrinkled his nose with disgust and calmly explained what he was.

“You must learn to hide this, Frederick. Never let anyone see you this way, or it will destroy the family name.”

And so, he learned the transformation’s schedule. Prepared for it. Knew how to hide it away and never let anyone get close enough to see the real him. But it wasn’t good enough. Try as he might, nothing Frederick ever did met his father’s expectations for the perfect son he had gone through so much trouble to produce.

Frederick grew into a bitter and lonely man with no one to care about, or who cared about him. He kept the world at a distance, hiding his shame behind expensive suits and lavish decoration.

Never once did he consider that he was not alone in this world at all.

 ***

I see him as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, keep it warm, but they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.

This is how Will Graham describes the Chesapeake Ripper.

Every therapy session with Graham, every conversation overhead, the puzzle became clearer. At first, Chilton merely believed that Dr. Lecter was guilty of unethical practices—manipulating Mr. Graham in the same way he had manipulated Gideon. He felt such kinship with Hannibal. Learning a bit of dirt on him brought the ever-so-superior doctor down to his level, gave him something to lord over him—a little implied blackmail to strengthen their friendship.

They both had secrets to hide.

Dr. Chilton never would have guessed the final puzzle piece to convince him fully that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper would be the one everyone else laughed at.

“I brought you here to bear witness,” Graham said to Gideon through their adjoining cells.

“To tell Jack Crawford that I sat in Hannibal Lecter’s cobalt blue dining room? An ostentatious herb garden, Leda and the Swan over the fireplace. And you, having a fit in the corner.”

Chilton perked up and quickly shared the audio feed to one of the junior therapists assisting him. You were reliable at editing his audio files, clipping and exporting segments he wanted to keep, but he was avoiding you at the moment. This was proof—irrefutable proof that Gideon had met Hannibal Lecter the night he went searching for the Ripper.

After his conversation with Graham concluded, an assistant was sent down to coax more information from him while Chilton’s research team listened in, keenly taking notes.

Gideon was not finished dropping bombshells.

With a casual lilt to his voice as if talking to a friend over dinner, he began to describe the Chesapeake Ripper. Skin like volcanic ash, reflecting no light. A red glow to his eyes. Black claws as long as steak knives. Antlers breaking through the inside of his skull, punching through the skin. All black as night—a form that shifted in the shadows, ever tricking the eye, unwilling to be known.

He’s the Devil, Mr. Graham. He’s smoke.

“Great. Gideon is delusional,” one therapist snorted. “On the bright side, this completely undercuts his malpractice case against you.” She patted Chilton’s shoulder. Chilton flinched.

“We should start him on antipsychotics. What do you think? Doctor?”

Chilton’s face turned ashen white. “Y-yes, certainly,” he muttered, staggering to his feet.

He moved for the door, but crumbled halfway there, pain ripping through his leg as sharp thorns grew beneath the skin. It was daylight. No. No! The transformation should not be starting for hours—he had plenty of time! He gasped out as another shock tore through him, barely containing a cry. His body convulsed.

“Doctor!” A therapist and a guard rushed in to help him to his feet. “Where does it hurt? If this is a complication from your surgery, we need to get you into intensive care right away.”

“No,” he brushed them off. “Only… psychosomatic. I need to— ah!” He gritted his teeth, mind racing to the one person he did not want to turn to, but the only one he could, and barked, “Get my secretary!”

 ***

Smoke was rising off of his burning skin by the time you rushed into Chilton’s vacated office. His eyes were wide with panic, but greeted you when you entered with—not relief, perhaps, because he was every bit as terrified as before, but with the anticipation of being rescued. His eyes pleaded.

“H-help. I cannot make it stop.”

You managed to get him into your car. The sun’s orange rays seemed to chase the beast away, clearing his skin and stopping his wracking convulsions long enough to cross the employee parking lot without drawing stares. He insisted on taking the back seat so he could hide—and to put more distance between you in case he lost control.

His chest rose and fell like a rabbit in a cat’s mouth.

“The way he described Dr. Lecter—anyone would think it was a metaphor! That he was crazy!” Chilton’s breath was raspy as you drove, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. He kept trembling, small patches of scaly skin appearing at random then swirling back inside. One pupil was a pinprick. His tongue occasionally became serpentine and got in the way as he frantically spoke. “But it was too specific, the details. Familiar. I always knew there was a connection between Dr. Lecter and me—a reason we were friends. It all makes sense now!”

“Hey, it’s OK,” you said, trying to sound soothing, though you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t you understand? Lecter is like me!”

“That’s good, isn’t it? That means you’re not alone.”

“Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper!” he shouted, and a spine tore through a seat cushion. “A cannibal, if Will Graham is to be believed, and loathe as I am to admit it, Graham is an excellent profiler. If the Ripper and I are the same… then that means I—”

“You are nothing like that!” Forgetting the damage his demonic tantrum was doing to your faux-leather interior, you had faith in him. He was a little withdrawn and more than a little vain, and it had garnered him an icy reputation around the hospital, but now you understood why. He wasn’t evil or malicious. He was frightened.

“God help me,” he murmured.

 ***

As soon as the garage door closed behind you, he scrambled from the car (scratching the handle), and retreated inside. He didn’t invite you to follow him home. But he didn’t forbid it, either, and you wanted to be there. All you had were panic-scrambled memories from the first time that made his transformation worse in hindsight than it was. Or maybe better. You didn’t know, and you wouldn’t know until you saw it again with clear eyes.

The electric kettle rumbled on its stand, hissing steam as you searched through Frederick Chilton’s surprisingly extensive tea collection for something herbal and soothing. Chamomile, you thought. With honey. Surely that must be good for demon-monster-werewolf things?

The sun was about to set and he was still reeling over Hannibal, and just as much from the premature transformation the revelation had triggered. And every time he cried, “This is not possible. How can this be possible?” the next convulsion was more intense.

He would probably just burn himself on tea.

A painful whimper came from somewhere in the house, and you followed it to a tiny panic room that opened behind a bookshelf. It was only about seven by nine feet with concrete walls and floors, bare except for deep scratches of varying age, like an animal trying to escape. The few chairs inside were metal. Difficult to break. Frederick faced away from you, staring at a hand that was too large for the rest of his body, capped with long black claws.

“Oh no, this will not do at all,” you tutted, shaking your head at the barren space. “How about I bring in some blankets? Let’s get you comfortable.”

His whole body shook. “You should go.”

“No. No way, not after seeing this prison cell. I am not leaving you like this.”

“I do not want to hurt you.” His shoulder jerked. A spike tore through his shirt.

“You won’t.”

“Seeing it again… will not be therapeutic for you,” he hissed, another spike breaking through. “Go before it is too late.”

“No!”

“Damn it! I am a monster—there is proof of that now! The FBI has no idea what it is dealing with!” Chilton began to pace the small cell, thoughts racing, features morphing into something grotesque and alien. “Does Hannibal know about me? Can he sense it? Is that why he confided in me? I always thought it was professional respect—hah! God, what if he…” A painful convulsion halted his pacing and brought him to one knee, gripping his side. His attention snapped back to you. “This is… dangerous,” he warned, then hacked violently. Fleshy, snake-like projections spewed from his mouth, and he quickly turned away again, hiding his face. “You should… you should be nowhere near all of this! You should not be here! Why did I let you inside?!”

A roar of anguish ripped through the air with enough force to push you back through the panic room door, just in time to avoid being impaled on half a dozen spines as they shot from Chilton’s body like lances. Chips of concrete clattered to the ground as they penetrated the walls. He screamed again, writhing to get free, but found himself trapped by his own violent transformation. Like an animal, he struggled and clawed at himself as if his rational mind had been overtaken by raw, volatile emotion.

“Take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you tried to calm him, but you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking.

This was worse than last time. You were sure his spines weren’t half as long when you saw him in his office—even Chilton seemed surprised to be pinned.

You lifted your hands, palms toward him in a steadying gesture, and took a step back into the concrete room.

“Stay back!” he howled, thrashing. “Get away!”

It was tempting. Every muscle in your body wanted to follow his advice and run far away from the indescribable horror before you. But his eyes were still green. Were still terrified. And you had an inkling of why it was worse this time. Maybe he would hate you later for imposing, but it seemed more important right now not to leave him feeling… like a monster.

“It’s OK.” You took another step closer.

“No!”

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you. Shh, shh… I’m not afraid, see?”

Rigid spines sprayed from his back and shoulders in a 180-degree arc, leaving only his front accessible. You ducked under one and followed its trajectory to where it met the wall. It wasn’t just pinned by pressure—it had struck the wall with enough force to dig into it like an iron rod. Sawing through might be the only option for getting him unstuck. You wondered if that would hurt. Were there nerves in his spines? You stepped over the next one as you drew nearer.

“You should be afraid! I am just like him!” Chilton tried to turn his head away as you traversed his network of thorns and stood in front of him.

His face was almost entirely inhuman. Tentacles cascaded down from where a nose should have been, and when he opened his mouth in a snarl, they parted like wriggling eels—each with a life of its own—to reveal a jaw that split his face open vertically, crowded with rows of sharp white teeth. The more agitated Chilton became, the more dramatic the effect. Each time he spoke, you caught a flash of teeth that sent shivers racing down your spine. But you continued to move closer anyway, within snapping range.

“Hannibal and I… we are the same. Please—I do not want to become him. Do not let me hurt you!”

“You are not the same. You’re not a killer.”

Chilton let out a choking cry that was all too human. “I killed that nurse,” he said. Concrete groaned as his spines grew longer. A crooked horn sprouted from his head. “I killed Elizabeth Shell.”

“You… you didn’t kill her.”

His breath quickened again. Tentacles sprouted and died and resprouted from his face in a constant fevered motion. “I knew Gideon would kill! I lowered security! I knew what would happen—what I needed to happen to prove that he was the Ripper! I may as well have plucked her eyes out with my own hands and… and feasted on her organs. God… I am the Ripper,” he wailed.

“No…” It never occurred to you that Dr. Chilton would have done such a thing knowingly. Maybe there was something dark inside him that this creature was reflecting. It hurt to acknowledge, and yet maybe you both needed to. “You made a mistake. You did a bad thing, but… Gideon was already a killer. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I drove him to it, manipulated him… I am just as responsible as he is. I am a monster.”

“A monster wouldn’t feel this guilty! You made a mistake, but you won’t make it again, will you?”

Tentacles and spines stopped sprouting. His form stabilized as his wet eyes looked off thoughtfully. He seemed so pathetic… so innocent, almost. Despite the intimating spines and claws that added danger and height to his appearance, his body had the same mass—leaving his frame gaunt and frail, with ribs sticking out prominently. Hollow.

You wanted to protect him.

You knew that was your job at BSHCI. You knew that was why Dr. Chilton suddenly needed a personal secretary when he never had before. Someone to sit outside his door, take his calls, and warn him when visitors wanted to see him. You’d never met the doctor before he was attacked by one of his patients, but you recognized the signs of trauma—the way he flinched easily, avoided contact at first, then the way he clung to you when you earned his trust. The awkward little smiles. The way his cheeks turned bright red when his fingers brushed yours as you delivered his coffee. You couldn’t help feeling protective. Falling in love, even.

Though it was closed for the moment, his mouth was a dangerous black hole with alien arms ready to pull prey inside. It seemed impossible to get close without being dragged into its teeth by instinct. You couldn’t imagine putting your face anywhere near it.

Another step, and your forehead touched his.

“I... I do not want to hurt you,” he pleaded.

“You won’t.”

You leaned into his arms, a hand reaching up to stroke the side of his face. It was covered in fine scales that glistened as if they should be slimy, but were smooth to the touch, like a snake. Sharper thorns sprouting from his skin seemed to retreat before your caress.

He trembled with inner turmoil, hot breath puffing against your chin. Your eyes darted toward the motion of one of his claws rising behind you, and all you could focus on were the way each sharp talon caught the light. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking—if he was going to return your embrace, or prove to you that he was a monster. Would he slash you just to drive you away?

“I smell your fear,” his voice hissed accusingly.

For some reason, of all the reactions you could have had, you started to laugh. It was nervous and tight at first, but then building in confidence at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You’ve got giant claws! Of course I’m afraid! But I’m not running, am I?”

You slid your hand from his cheek and trailed it over his bony neck and the ridges and spines of his shoulders, finding a path for your arms to twine around him. Cuddling closer, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hardly bothered by the writhing tentacles that draped down over you.

“I know you would never hurt me. You’re just going to have to keep showing me there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Shuddering, he breathed in your scent. All his senses were heightened by this form, and he was surrounded by you—your pheromones, your electric field, the radiant heat of your skin. It was like sinking into a warm bath with a glass of fine wine in his hand. He opened his palm and let his predator’s hand sweep harmlessly down your back, holding you close. He could sense the fluttering of your heart in his embrace. It was slower than a creature in terror—slowing the longer he held you. You were not afraid. And he could not imagine hurting you. Whatever he had been worried might happen, whatever awful things he might be capable of, he could never imagine hurting you. You were right. You didn’t have anything to fear.

He exhaled a long, steady breath of surrender. The long spines retracted, pulling out of the walls as they returned to their usual size. He could move again, but didn’t. Not for a long time.

“It’s OK. It’s OK,” you sighed. The scent of your hair was intoxicating.

Eventually, you had to part. Chilton’s eyes darted away as you did—the inky scales on his face emitted a soft bluish starlight, which you were certain was blushing. You could not coax him to leave his concrete prison cell, but he told you where to find some blankets he could live with damaging—linen closet, second floor, third door on the right—and let you make a cozy nest on the bare floors. You made tea, and only cringed a little at his attempts to drink it. It was late, then. You were sleepy, and he was exhausted. Emotionally drained. His mind still raced over everything, still not certain of your presence and inexplicable kindness. You sat in the pile of blankets and had him rest his head in your lap.

“Give me your hand,” you asked, extending yours.

A clawed, scaly hand slid tentatively along the floor. You took it. Held it gently, first observing the long talons protruding like daggers from each finger before slotting yours between them—nothing sharp there. You let out a long sigh and leaned back against the concrete wall. His breath hitched.

He’d never had his hand held in this form, you assumed.

He’d never had his hand held at all, in fact. Not in many years.

It had to be a trap, he thought. No one had ever loved him before. No one could—not like this. Yet, as he fell asleep to your fingers massaging his temple and the soft murmuring of your voice, he let himself believe it. You were always there, protecting him. Smiling at him in the morning.

When you woke up, Frederick was human again, still fast asleep in your arms.

[ag3ntl3vi]

Hoodie X GN! Reader X Masky | “Rock Paper Sisscors” |☁️

This struck me at like, 3AM while listening to Devil in Diguise. I’ll probably write more parts to this tonight if im being honest. 

!Gender-Neutral reader!

Trigger Warnings: Sexual mentions. 

Word Count: 2,317

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"Can you go any slower?" You laughed, stopping to allow your friend to catch up. Sweat dotted her chocolatey forehead as she panted. 

"Yes! I can." She wheezed. "You're just too fast!" Taylor whined loudly, bending herself in half to try and catch her breath. You rolled your eyes and pulled her up, raising her arms over her head. 

"You'll breathe better this way," You told her, taking a step back and taking a long sip of your icy water. Taylor nodded her thanks and slowed her breathing gradually. 

        "Wanna keep going?" You asked as you wiped your mouth on your wrist. Taylor feriously shook her head. "I'll pass, (Y/n)." She whimpered. You put yout arms behind your head as you began to walk down the worn dirt bath. 

"That sucks," You murmered. "We were only 1/4th of the way done."

Taylor gaped at your cocky smirk. "And you do this everyday?"

You nodded. "Twice a day if I'm feelin' lucky," You winked and giggled. Taylor shook her head in disbelief. 

"You're a machine," She grumbled, jogging to your side. You could tell she was tired, but she was the one who asked to join you in your near-night run. She said she needed the exercise to get the perfect "summer body", even though it was fall. 

You hummed. "I didn't know they made sexy machines now." Taylor pushed away the urge to roll her eyes, though she desperately wanted to. She chose not to answer your stupid comment. You both started to walk back to your dorm and planned a junk food movie night. You had the feeling she wouldn't last, but you couldn't say no to her puppy face. You had to admit, you were a sucker for your best friend.          Taylor ended up chugging the rest of her and your water bottles greedily, but you didn't blame her. She was pretty out of shape. The darker skinned girl took a large gasp of fresh oxygen after finishing off your beverage. 

"Learn to breathe, my God," You snorted. She glared.

"I just ran a mile, you can shut your mouth, you fucking monster," She hissed playfully. 

School campus soon came into view after your bickering. Taylor grumbled about how badly her feet ached and how she was never running ever again. You parted ways at the dorm. Taylor wanted to get the living room set up for the movie and sent you out for snacks and drinks. You easily migrated to the everything store. That wasn't its actual name, you couldn't care to remember what it was, but the everything store seemed to suit the run down shop better. 

        You pushed thr glass double doors open, a cute bell ringing to announce your presence to the cashire, Michael. 

"(Y/n)!" He greeted with a smile. You returned the facial gester with a small wave of your own.          "What're you here for this time?" He leaned his head on his open palm, his eyes trained on your figure. You had your back turned to him as you read the movie names on the rack. 

"What does it look like?" You chuckles, plucking a familar title from the shelf. 'Kiki's Delivery Service', a childhood favorite of yours. Michael didn't verbally answer, he was too busy allowing his eyes to roam your every curve. 

His eyes snapped to the side when you turned around to wonder down the candy isle. You shoved a KitKat , snickers, and (f/c) into your arm (allowing an extra of your favored one into your pocket, shh) before you turned the corner, finding the energy drinks. With a childish grin you grabbed a few of the better Monster flavors. You knew you had popcorn at the dorm so you didn't bother trying to find a box here. 

        You decided to check out as quickly as possible, avoiding as much conversation with Michael as you could. He gave you the creeps. He always tended to make sexual remarks regarding your running outfit, like how your shorts made your ass look plump or how cute you looked with a flushed, tired expression. In general, he didn't seem like a good guy or influence, though Taylor took an odd interest in him. She always had shitty tastes in men. 

It was getting late, you noticed. The sun started to darken as students scrambled to their respected dorms or apartments off campus. You made your way to your room. The illuminated cobblestone path gave you the worst horror movie vibes, so to say you booked it was an understatement. As soon as you were inside the safe confindments of your dorms living area, you released a loud sigh of relief. You thought about taking the elevator up, but decided on the stairs to the third story. You were very grateful you were on a higher floor, to you it served as a lesser chance of being robbed or murdered. 

"I brought a movie, candy and monsters, come on, you filthy goblin." you called into the freakishly neat room. Taylor was a very, very messy person so you tended to pick up after her more than you'd happily admit. It didn't take long for you to set positions for certain objects in specific places. Example, your shoes stayed in a small, plastic, blue bin by the door. They didn't ever make it to the carpeted floor of the living room. You had a key rack by the door so your keys were never lost or misplaced and Taylor had insisted you needed a coat rack, so your bookbags and Taylor's purses hung there. Any extra blankets, pillows, and sheets were placed neatly in the spare closet. 

        "Monsters..?" Her brown head popped out from around the corner. 

-----------------------------------------------

Taylor had passed out halfway through the movie, not that you were surprised. You pouted. You were very well use to it, but it wasn't any less disappointing when it happened. You carefully laid her on the couch, not bothering to wake her. She was a literal demon when she was woken up. You covered her body in a large, fluffy blanket before standing, pacing for a moment. 

You wondered back to your organized room and grabbed your large spray bottle you kept on your dresser. You stared down your mass of plants in your window seal and the few on your night stand and hanging from the ceiling before watering the ones that needed it, leaving your Rainbow Bush succulent alone. Satisfied, you grabbed your school jacket and your earbuds and phone before slipping your shoes on at the door. 

It was almost 1 before Taylor and you had finally settled enough to sit and watch the movie, so it was fairly late now. But, regretfully, your body was still pumped from the sugary drinks you consumed not long ago. You made a quick choice to go on a short run to tire yourself out a bit before retiring for the night. Sure, wasn't the best idea to go out at night, alone and defenceless, but you prided yourself in your speed if needed. Besides, you've done it before and you were obviously still alive!

You made your way to the dirt path you ran earlier in the day, struggling to remember a stupid songs name. You grinned when you figured it out and hurriedly played it. The opening played through your earbuds as you gently bobbed your head to the beat.

"There are boulders on my shoulders, collar bones begin to crack, there is very little left of me and it's never coming back," You sung softly along with 'Be nice to me'. An old, but greatly loved song from your middle school years. You began to run.

Your lips parted in a content smile as a phrase slipped past your teeth.

"You're a killer, and i'm your best friend. I think it's unfair, your situation," 

You began to bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. "You say i'm changing! I'm sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same!" You jumped as your legs moved, your voice growing louder and bolder with every word thoughtlessly spilling out your mouth. You became unaware of the eyes watching your movements, head tilted in confusion. 

"Your voice is driving me insane!" You shouted, hopping more as you swished your head side to side, getting louder everytime the phrase was repeated. The last note rang through your ears and you let out a joyful that was quickly cut off. The overbearing feeling of being watched dawned on you. 

You jerked around and scanned the treeline, your eyes falling on a tall male facing you with a tilted head. You stared at him, confused before your gaze fell on the bloodied pipe dangling by his side. You fearfully and turned around, bolting in the direction the path led you to. You didn't have much time to understand why he was watching you, but you could hear his heavy footsteps crushing dead leaves as he raced after you. 

'Molly' blasted into your ears loudly, making you jerk in surprise. If you were going to die tonight, you were glad this was the song you'd die to. 

You could hear him distantly still chasing after you. Not to brag, but you could run a mile amd keep going onto the next without breaking too much of a sweat, though you'd be fairly tired.          Speaking of tired, you could feel the drousiness spreading to your head and deep down you knew that you couldn't keep the pace up for much longer. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned into the woods, lifting your feet high so you wouldn't be the stupid one to trip on a root and be killed first. That would be an embarrassing way to die and not even Molly could make it better, you concluded. 

So you did the most logical thing your sleepy brain could think of.

You climbed a fucking tree.

The man was a far enough distance for you to get a good amount of height between the two of you. You panted, your palms itching with needle-like pain from the rough and merciless bark, but pulled yourself up another branch and looked down. The man was panting heavily, bent over as he struggled to force air into his most likely burning lungs.  He stood up after a quick second, glaring up the tree at you.

Childishly, but overcome with a sense of acomplishment, you stuck your tongue out at him. 

Bad idea, you concluded when the guy's gloved fists clenched by his sides and he started to climb. 

You squealed. "No! Fuck off!" You shouted. "Pick another goddamn tree, you humanoid orange!" A growl ripped through your teeth as you glared fearfully at him.          To your surprise, he got down. He moved his head to stare at you before sitting indian style, his face pointed to you.

For the first time you had a proper look at him, and you weren't surprised. He looked like he came from a shitty horror movie. He wore an orange hoodie with a ski mask hiding his facial features, a red frowny face sitched into it. He had dark blue, wore out jeans and black boots that looked to be kept as clean as Taylor would keep her living space. 

'Best friend' Began to play quietly through your (f/c) earbuds and you forced down a snort at the timing. You were hoddled up in a tree while a guy who most likely wanted you dead watched from below. You shook your head and glanced at the dark sky.

'The stars are out' You thought as you spotted the little dipper, the big one wasn't far away from it's child. 

It only took about ten minutes for your easily distracted mind to get bored. You stared down at the hooded man as he drew in the dirt with his pipe. An idea struck you, a bad one, but an idea nevertheless. And it wasn't going to kill you, with a lot of hope, it may allow you to live another day. 

"Yo, tangerine!" He flinched at your loud voice, moving his head to stare at you. 

You held up a fist with your dominate hand, your opposite going under it, palm up and open.

"Wanna play rock, paper, sisscors before I die?" 

The man stilled before very, and I mean very slowly nodded. You allowed yourself to snort. Now you were going to play a childs game with a murderer. 

"Do you know how to play?" You called down. He nodded again and held up his hands. "Cool," You said.

The orange-clad killer was absolute shit at rock, paper, sisscors. He was even worse than your nephew, who was six and had the attention span of a squirell. Sometime in your game playing, you had moved yourself a few branches down to see him better in the dark woods. You now sat a branch above his head.          He didn't move much, but his shoulders seemed to slump.

You threw rock, again, and he threw sisscors. You gave an evil victory crackle whiele he glared gloomily at his open fingers.          "That was fun," You stretched your arms over your head, yawning. "Can I go now?" You calmly asked. 

He didn't move for a long while, looking between you and his gloved hands, the, back to you. Finally, he nodded. You hopped down, smiling widely. 

"Thanks," You said nervously. He was trying to kill you earlier, so you wouldn't be completely off guard around him. You started to shuffle around him cautiously. His arm shot out, grabbing your upper arm roughly. You flinched hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

This is it, You thought He changed his mind and wants to eat me!

Instead, you heard a deep voice whisper.

"You can leave if we can play again soon."

[wagner-fell]

Spiders Are Ugly And Other Lies Capitalism Has Told Us (part one)

“Dad,” Astrid called out, shutting the coral coloured front door behind her. “Are you home?”

She dumped her cream tote bag spray painted with the words ‘Washing Machine Heart’ in big, rainbow letters onto one of the stools facing the granite countertop. The rest of the Merry Hoes followed suit. It was weird seeing a person as chaotic as Astrid in such a calm environment.

They were all spending the summer in LA with Astrid and her Dad. It had taken a while for Kevin to convince his family it was a good idea. Especially because he and Blessica had finally put years of pinning behind them. Making out on Kit’s bed at Mina’s third birthday party certainly wasn’t the way they had envisioned it but as the longing was over with, they were happy.

The Chu’s didn’t love the idea of their son living in a different country for three months with his girlfriend but we’re on board once Kevin assured them there was no possible way Blessica could get pregnant.

Kit wasn’t officially sleeping at the Yang’s but at the Institute with his boyfriend. Julian wasn’t so thrilled about the situation but Emma was. She was positively ecstatic about having a training partner as skilled as Kit was, courtesy of Jem and Tessa. Though staying a thirty minute drive away (on the wrong side of the road, Mari noted) wouldn’t keep Kit away for long. Even now he was with them instead of having his own reunion make out session.

Speaking of making out…

Mari rested their chin on the top of Astrid’s head and wrapped their arms around her middle. “Why don’t you show us your room while we wait for your dad to get home.”

It was kinda perfect, Mari often remarked, that she realized her feelings for their best friend weren’t so platonic as she previously led herself to believe at the same time they and Kit realized they were better off as just platonic.

Astrid hit her hand playfully. “That’s not fair!” she whined! ”How dare you take advantage of my constant hornyness when my God-fearing Presbyterian father could be in the next room? Shame! Shame on you, shame on your family, shame on your cow.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘dishonor’”, said Kit, who didn’t even look up from his phone when he addressed her, “but go off I guess.”

Astrid looked like she was questioning all her life choices up to this point. “A white boy knows Mulan better than me.” She shook her head in disgust. Mari could feel the loose hairs of her girlfriend’s ponytail ticking her exposed collar bone. “Mulan.”

Mari laughed before softly brushing their lips against Astrid mop of bleached strands of pastel yellow, pink and blue mixed magnificently with her natural inky black.

“Is hornyness even a word?” Kevin wondered aloud as he observed the knickknacks placed at even intervals utop the kitchen cabinets. Blessica was with him. She was gazing at one of a crab steering a ship when she spotted a slim piece of paper taped below it.

“Ast,” she called. The both looked in her direction, despite Blessica needing the attention of one. “Your dad says he won’t be home till seven. Emergency at work.”

“Which leaves us more than enough time to pack and head over to meet Ty, Dru and Thaìs at the arcade,” said Kit. He finally turned his phone off and shoved it into the back pocket of his ripped jeans. “Marstrid can do the ol’ devil’s tango then catch up to us.”

‘Marstrid’ wrinkled their noses. “I thought we agreed on Astari, Christopher.”

“Astari sounds gayer,” confirmed Kevin, his eyes never leaving the miniature decorations.

“Not to be rude but why does Astari sound gayer?” asked a visibly confused Blessica.

“Because,” answered Mari, unraveling herself from Astrid to slide onto one of the bar stools and reaching into the Jolly Rancher jar, blindly searching for a green, “Astari has ‘star’ in it. Star equals astrology. An obsession with astrology is the price you pay for the gay agenda. Besides, Marstrid sounds like an old southern lady.” Then she furrowed her eyebrows and swiveled to face Astrid. “Southern is Texas, right?” Astrid nooded, a smile so big the Cheshire Cat would be jealous.

Without looking, she stuck her hand in the jar and pulled out a green apple flavoured hard candy on her first try. She held it out to Mari, who snatched it out of her hand with an angry huff.

“Hey, Ast, where do you guys keep the crisps?” asked Kevin when he finished inspecting all the knickknacks.

“Uh, under the barbecue sauce, I think.”

Kit’s eyes lit up. “So I’m sitting there”- Astrid understood what was happening in just enough time to quote- “barbecue sauce on my titties” in unison.

Mari put her head into their open palms, still sucking on the pity candy. “Why is this my type?”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Blessica as Kit attempted to parallel park outside the location Ty had texted him to meet at. Key word, attempt. When Tessa had taught him to drive, he’d been such a disaster at parallel parking she had instructed him to ‘take the underground when tight spaces might be a possibility.’ Which he prided himself in doing. But this was America and the underground was called the subway, so, technically, no rules were being broken.

“Yes, Blessie, I’m certain.”

“Okay. Just checking cause a few turns back the GPS said-”

“Blessie!” He nearly crashed into the car in front of him.

“Right. Shutting up.”

When Kit managed to park with minimal damage and the three were about to exit, the voice of Nicki Minaj boomed from his pocket. Ty was calling him. He accepted the call, putting it on speaker.

“Hello Tiberius.” There was giggling from the other end of the line. A groan soon followed it.

“It’s been a year,” came the annoyed voice of Dru. “Get over your British kink already.” Kevin’s laughter echoed from the backseat.

“Hey Ty!

“Hi Kevin.”

”Hey Dru!”

“Fuck off.”

“Ouch. Why do you feel the need to hurt me so?” Blessica laughed.

“Hey…Thaìs?”

“Here,” replied Thaìs cheerfully.

“Are you here yet,” asked Ty.

“Uh, yeah! We were just getting out of the rental car when you called. You didn’t tell me it was going to be crowded. I had to parallel park!”

“What are you talking about?” interrupted Dru. ”There are only four cars in the parking lot.”

“But,” Ty countered, “there are lots of Billy’s Fun Zones’ around here. You guys must have got mixed up and taken a wrong turn. I could have sworn I sent you the correct location on GPS.” Maybe Ty said more on the subject but Kit could hear anything or see anything except the superior smirk Blessica was giving him.

He covered the speaker. “Not. A. Word.” And no word came out of her mouth the entire ride to the correct Billy’s Fun Zone but the ‘I told you so’ look on her face spoke loud enough.

Kit slid back into the booth next to Ty, handing him his pretzel. Ty kissed him on the check in gratitude.

Dru and Ty were right. About this one being empty. He told him he had heard about it from Alyssa. Her pack frequented it often. They were left alone because, well, there was no one else there to bother them.

“Where are Astrid and Mari?” he asked.

“Fucking. I think. Or maybe just making out. I’ll know which one when they finish.” When Ty gave him a puzzled look he continued, “Astrid describes it all to me in full detail. I honestly don’t know whether she doesn’t have a filter or she just needs someone to scream to about how amazing Mari is.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“True, true.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ty picked up the conversation again. “When Thaìs first met Astrid, she had a huge crush on her. They got along great. I always thought they would end up together. Or hook up at the very least.”

“Huh, that’s funny,” observed Kit.

“What is?”

“When me and Mari split, I was planning on trying to set them up with Thaìs. But then I caught her ans Astrid making out in a storage closet at school. Which, in hindsight, was pretty stupid cause they were in there so I wouldn’t be sad Mari moved on when I opened the door in the first place avoiding her to call you.”

“Hmmmm.”

The gears in Ty’s head were visibly turning. Kit loved watching this process. An idea was forming in his boyfriend’s genius mind, he could sense it.

“What is their stance on monogamy?” he asked finally.

“Um, fuck, hold on. Mari sent me this whole speech about it.” Kit scrolled through his phone at a rapid rate before he saw what he was looking for. He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:52 AM: monogamy is just another lie capitalism has fed us

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:55 AM: like, for example, the notion that house spiders are ugly and to be feared

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: it’s just to sell bug spray

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: same with monogamy

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: pointless!!!

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:58 AM: in conclusion, if I want to join a polyam cult, who tf is the government to stop me?

Kev-Kev, sent 2:01 AM: mari please go to sleep

Bless-ing_to_the_world, sent 2:04 AM: ^^^^^^^^^^^

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: preach!

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: go off queen

By the time Kit was finished with his dramatic reading, Ty’s plan was fully formed.

“That settles it! We are going to play matchmakers!”

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

Alyssa, Ty’s friend mentioned is @thechangeling OC, not mine.

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