#luckily no one could ever guess whats in there because it is so fucking. unpredictable and out of character for me

[skenpiel]

looking in my drafts makes me qant to kill myseld ever since like 5 days ago. but i have posts there i need to save so i have to look in there sometimes

[captains-simp]

Can your write a longer version of the Romanov (Romanoff) teacher x fem reader and/or with Carol Danvers or Yelena Belova? (I know she is her sister but they aren’t really)

And I’ll buy you two cups of coffee. Or if u do All three characters, (not at once but maybe eventually in another story), I’ll buy u 4 cups 🥰

F-four cups?? Bdosskdskssosjs I'm on it!!

2.8k words

Warnings: teacher!Natasha X student!reader, teacher!Carol X student!reader, unhealthy power dynamic, dub-con (not really?? Putting it to be safe) age gap (R is 18), smoking, being caned, praise, degrading, strap on sex, oral on strap on, gagging and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

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Your head fell back against the brick wall as you exhaled heavily and let the thick smoke escape your parched mouth. You stared up at the clouds amongst the perfectly blue sky and made out various shapes the clouds displayed, each telling their own story. You smiled when you spotted a laughing dragon.

"Y/n." Came a snappy voice that pulled you from your daydreaming. You recognised the voice instantly and clenched your teeth together as you dropped your joint to the floor and stepped on it.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" You rolled your eyes and glared at the teacher approaching you.

"You know smoking is not permitted on these grounds. Neither are the those." The redhead stated as she eyed the the packet in your pocket and held her hand out for it. You begrudgingly handed it over.

"Detention. 7 o'clock. Do not be late." She warned before heading back towards the old building. You continued to glare daggers into her back as you watched her leave, those damn hips swaying with every step.

You would be the first to admit your teacher was hot. With all those curves and a look to kill, yes you were attracted to her. But there was a lot of teachers at the school that were easy on the eyes. The difference with Natasha was she seemed spent on making your life at that school a living hell.

It felt like she was always out to get you, giving you detentions left and right and shouting at you for seemingly nothing. So being attracted to her while she played the role of the your own personal guardian devil wasn't easy. Plus: it was beyond frustrating being horny at a boarding school.

The day dragged by after that. Every time you looked up at the clock on a classroom wall it had barely changed. You just wanted the day to be over with.

Finally, 7 o'clock came and you dragged yourself to Natasha's classroom a few minutes late. You would be lying if you said you hadn't deliberately been late to piss her off. Not to mention you had made it quite the habit with your teacher. You were a sucker for tradition.

"I do hope that one day you'll learn the importance of being punctual." Natasha said from her desk where she didn't look up from marking.

"I guess today just isn't that day." You said as you slouched down in your seat in the back row.

You frowned as you noticed a workbook wasn't placed on your desk already. That was usually all your detentions consisted of, you doing more work. You looked up and saw Natasha watching you darkly. You struggled to hold her gaze for more than a couple seconds.

"On the contrary, y/n. I think today is exactly that day." She said with a small smile you didn't trust at all. You rarely saw her smile. Brief, forced ones towards her colleagues was all you thought she was capable of. But the one she gave you, it was hiding something.

"Come here." She said suddenly and you found yourself getting to your feet rather hastily.

You made your way down the room and stood infront of your teachers desk with some nerves. While you had never strived to piss off any teachers, their threats never seemed to scare you because you knew there was nothing they could really do. It never got any worse than a series of tedious detentions. But you found yourself not wanting to test your teacher that evening.

Natasha stood up from her chair and put the papers to the side before walking around the desk and past you. You didn't look back to see what she was doing but you could hear her open the door to her supply room. There was one in every room in the generously sized school. All stocked with books and alike, but you had never seen the inside of Miss Romanoff's supply room, it was always too dim.

Her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way back to you. You still didn't dare turn around, maybe if you had Natasha wouldn't have pushed your back down with alarming force that had your front pressed against her table in less than a second.

You gave a startled cry in alarm and went to get back up but Natasha's hand stayed firmly between your shoulder blades and forced you to stay flat against the desk.

"Miss!" You called but she didn't respond. Instead, her other hand wandered up the back of your left thigh. Her touch was light as a feather and it brought out an involuntary shudder from you despite the screaming in your head.

Natasha then hiked your skirt up over your hips. You stayed silent at the act. In shock more than anything else. Perhaps part of you wanted to know what she was planning.

What you didn't expect was to feel a sharp sting across your ass and a cracking sound echo across the room. You cried out again and tried to get off the desk but your teacher was too strong.

"What the fuck was that?" You demanded as your ass continued to sting furiously.

"I thought some old school punishment would fit you better, y/n. Nothing else quite seems to suffice." She explained and brought the cane back down on your thinly covered ass. You jerked forwards and gripped on to the edge of the desk firmly as another cry was ripped from your throat.

She hummed in consideration for a moment, most likely pausing for an extra second just to taunt you, before dipping her fingers under the waist band of your panties and pulled them down your legs. You whimpered quietly and pressed your thighs tightly together, not wanting your teacher to see any possible and surprising signs of what her actions were doing to you.

When your panties were at your feet you breathing became more shallow and you awaited the next strike in fear.

"I think ten strikes will suffice." She declared and your eyes widened. "But let's not forget I also have to teach you the importance of punctuality. How many minutes late were you, y/n? Seven?"

"Please." Spilled from your lips. You weren't sure you could handle seventeen strikes from the devil crafted stick in you teacher's hand.

"You can take it, darling. After all," She started as she leant forward to whisper in your ear, "Daddy knows best." You shivered from her words and tried to ignore the way they seemed to travel through your body.

A harsh strike came down suddenly and you cried out pathetically and gripped on to the desk like a lifeline. The cane in harsh, random strikes after that, each one as unpredictable as the last and all of them hurting more.

Tears sprung to your eyes and yet every hit added to your arousal that filled you with shame. You were sure Natasha noticed it because every time you pressed your thighs together she kicked your legs apart again, surely seeing your wetness as she did so.

"That's it, sweetheart, it's done." Natasha cooed as she ran her cold hand over your throbbing ass. "You took it so well." You flinched from the contact but luckily she didn't linger too long on the broken skin, instead letting her hand drop further down.

You couldn't help the breathy whine that escaped your lips. "Perhaps too well." Natasha mused as her slender fingers glided over your glistening folds. You leaned back into her touch and was partly surprised that she let you, consequently slipping the tips of her fingers through your folds.

You whined louder at the teasing contact but Natasha withdrew her hands and instead smacked your pussy hard. You lurched forward and moaned at the impact.

"Come here." Natasha said but didn't give you much chance to respond because she gripped the back of your shirt and hauled you through the room. You stumbled the whole way but didn't dare question your teacher. She pushed you into the storage room, much to your confusion, until you stumbled into what felt like a table and the dim light flickered on.

Your breath caught in your throat as you caught sight of all the packed shelves around the room. There were more sex toys in the surprisingly small room than you could even process with more range than you could ever beging to fantasise about.

You admired as many as you could in the time Natasha stripped herself of her clothing and stepped infront of you to pick out a dildo to attatch to the harness she wore. Her eyes raked over the large collection and landed on one of the biggest with a confident smirk on her face. She grabbed the toy and some lube and stepped behind you again where she attatched the toy and prepared it with the lube before tangling her hand in your hair to hold you against the oak table.

"You like my collection, sweetheart?" Natasha asked as she ran the strap through your folds. You hummed vaguely, too caught up in the thought of her using the toy on you.

"Answer me, slut." Natasha said lowly and thrust the strap in.

You moaned loudly as your teacher pushed more of the inches in and you squirmed beneath her. She gave another harsh thrust and burried the rest of the strap in to your pussy.

"Well?" She asked teasingly as she withdrew the toy only to slam it back forwards harshly.

"Yes!" You cried out as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Yes what?" She tested.

"Yes, daddy!" You moaned in bliss and desperation.

"Fuck, this pussy's so tight." Natasha smirked above you, no doubt knowing the slight buzz of pain you were feeling at the stretch of her toy. You moaned in response as she continued to thrust the toy in at a merciless pace.

You were so lost in the overwhelming pleasure Natasha was giving you you were unaware if anything that wasn't her or the toy. Even the cold surface of the table pressed so harshly against you had slipped from your mind. So it was no surprise you didn't hear the heavy footsteps entering the room.

"Evening, Danvers." Natasha greeted and your eyes snapped open. You tried to look back at who ever Natasha was talking to but she gripped your hair tighter and held your head down against the desk making you whimper.

"You finally did it, huh." Came the voice from behind you that you definitely recognised. "And I thought you were chicken shit." She mused.

You whimpered when you felt a hand snake down to your clit and rub the neglected spot slowly. But it was gone barely a second after it came.

"Wait your fucking turn, Danvers." Natasha spat at the blonde but you whined desperately.

"Please, daddy!" You begged, missing the contact instantly.

"I think the little whore wants me more." Carol chuckled and Natasha snapped her hips particularly hard at her words.

"Oh but she's going to cum all for me now, aren't you, y/n?"

"Please, please!" You begged more as Natasha's pace increased and you moaned more frantically, still trying to get a look at the blonde.

"Fucking cum." She demanded and at that, you lost all control. You clenched around the fake cock and trembled on the table as the brutal waves if your orgasm washed over you again and again.

But to your distraught, Natasha pulled the strap out as you came and effectively ruined the full effects of your high. You whimpered again at the loss but your legs felt too numb to fully do anything about it.

"Don't be so ungrateful." Natasha warned as she slapped your pussy making you jump slightly.

Carol stood infront of you as she started to unbuckle her belt and freed the strap she had been packing underneath.

"You're gonna use that slutty mouth to get my cock ready for your pussy now, Princess." Carol explained as she tapped the head against your cheek. You happily obliged and opened your mouth for the strap that Carol wasted no time in easing in.

She held your head in place where Natasha had let go and pushed the strap against your gag reflex. You coughed around the toy but the blonde shushed you as she kept pushing forward in a thoughtful silence, admiring the tears that sprung to your eyes.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth." Carol muttered as she withdrew the strap slightly only to snap her hips forwards to effectively fuck your mouth. "You want it in your slutty hole now?" She asked with faux sweetness.

"She'll take whatever you give her." Natasha mused. You looked up and saw her in a dark red chair against the wall facing you, her eyes glued to your form.

Carol slipped the strap from your mouth when she deemed you had done a good enough job. It glistened in the dim light and disappeared from sight when your other teacher strolled back behind you.

You locked eyes with your red headed teacher as you felt Carol's presence behind you. Natasha pulled something from the cabinet besides her that you instantly registered as your amateur cigarette and the little tobacco that was still in the bag. She chuckled at the rookie joint you had made yourself but you didn't have much chance to feel any embarrassment or annoyance because the woman behind you gripped onto your hips tightly and pushed the entirety of the toy in in one thrust forward.

You moan was bordering on a scream at the action. Carol set about a merciless pace that rivalled your other teacher's and had you trembling instantly. You gripped on to the edge of the table tightly and babbled incoherently about how good it felt and pathetic pleas not to stop, all of which Carol had no issue aiding. She pounded the strap into you and revelled in your pleasured cries all while you tried desperately to hold eye contact with Natasha.

The red head was looking through her cabinet again until you brought out a box of Humidor cigars that probably cost more than a year at your school. Your cheap tobacco had been thrown to the side as she lit the expensive cigar all while smirking at you and your limited responses to her.

She brought it up to your lips with a knowing smile but you had no energy or ability to make an annoyed comment about how unfair the teacher student hierarchy was because Carol's pace seemed to increase.

"Don't stop!" You managed to cry out to the blonde. You clenched around the strap desperately as your breathing increased and.you could feel your high approaching at a fast rate.

"Cum, slut." The blonde ordered and with that, you fell apart again. You bucked back against the strap as Carol fucked your through your orgasm and kept going. You were becoming sensitive from the intense pleasure you had been feeling and all of a sudden it became too much.

You thought Carol stopped when she pulled out, but she swiftly flipped you on to your front and sunk the strap back in. Your head threw back as you moaned lowly and instinctively wrapped your legs around your teacher's waist to help you handle her deep thrusts.

"I want to see you cum this time." Carol said as she eyed you greedily.

You felt a pair of soft lips meet your exposed neck and turned your head away more to give Natasha's wandering lips further access. Her hands crept up under your shirt and massaged the soft skin contained by your bra. She pinched your nipples as she sucked and lightly nipped at your neck, all while the blonde continued to fuck you into your next orgasm.

You gasped before giving a long moan in relief as your third orgasm washed over your body. You trembled in the women's gripped as they guided you through your high that had you seeing stars.

Your head fell back against the table with a light thud as you tried to steady your breathing.

"Fuck." Carol smirked as she combed her hair back away from her face and grinned down at your body arrogantly. "We're going to have to do that again." She sighed as she pulled the strap out slowly making you whine.

"You want that baby? You want to be our secret slut?" Natasha muttered into your ear and bit down gently. You groaned and nodded your head in response.

"Please." You whispered, your voice going hoarse.

"That's a good girl." Natasha praised as her hand wandered down your body again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @toastisawesome13

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[obeiii-mee]

The Brothers stopping MC from sacrificing themselves (Alternative Ending): Part 2

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So uh…this took me long enough to finish….hah.

I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry for the long wait. I’m usually pretty critical of my work and as a result I end up rewriting and editing a bunch of times. Which takes longer for me to finish for bigger requests like these. I did try my very best to make the last part of this series good but I’m a little iffy with how Asmo’s turned out, even though I’m pretty proud of the one I did for Satan. I hope guys enjoyed reading as much I did writing this :)

As usual, get the tissues ready because writing this one for the twins hURT

“MC tries to sacrifice themselves in order to revive Lilith. The following brothers catch them red-handed….”

Characters: Satan, Asmo and the Twins

Warnings: Mentions of gore, blood, attempted suicide, breakdowns, etc. Don’t read if you’re sensitive to this sort of thing.

Part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon and Levi)

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Satan

-“MC….I…”

-If he had been delayed and arrived two minutes later than intended, then you would’ve been dead. That sounds really harsh and by all means it isbut sugar coating the situation wasn’t going to magically fix anything; your arm and your fragile human life hanging on by a thread included.

-It’s a fucked up ritual, uncommon even amongst demons due to its unpredictable behaviour around individuals and the way it reacts with magic as a whole. That’s how you label a spell, or rather a curse since its effects are negative more often than not, as dangerous; if Lord Diavolo himself, the Prince of DevilDom and soon to be the King of its inhabitants, struggles to deal with the aftermath of such powerful curses then no one else really has any business coming in contact with them.

-Now, Satan is aware of all this because he would’ve had to study such topics for school on several occasions. Divination, witchcraft, history of spells, etc. These are all subjects he excels in and has put a lot of time and effort into understanding the concepts between each one. Knowing this, it’s only reasonable to assume that you only survived because he was so well-versed in curses similar to the one you were trying to cast. By the time he got to your room, you were already leaning towards the latest stages of the whole process and it’s generally harder to recover when your body and soul go that far along in cases like this.

-Luckily, you were still conscious. For the most part, that is. As long as you didn’t slip into any kind of critical condition, he was confident that he would be able to heal you in due time. Your wounds were bad but they could’ve been a hell of a lot worse so he reckoned treatment would go smoothly from then on out. Though, Satan isn’t the most optimistic to begin with. The stress was basically eating away at him, tearing him into smaller and smaller pieces until he was left with his thoughts. And the bloody dagger he found next to you.

-He was panicking. And, if you had to guess, he was getting very close to the edge of an angry outburst. You could tell by the constant muttering and laboured breathing as he tried to cauterise your injuries before you bled out. Despite the heavy steams of rage radiating from him, his hands were steady and calculated, doing everything methodically because if he skips even the smallest of steps, it would result in your demise. As he worked on stabilising you and enchanting the room so his brothers wouldn’t come barging in while he was trying to revive you, there was nothing else for you to do except watch him. I mean, you were in some pretty serious pain and it’s been constant ever since you started so it was difficult to focus on much but you couldn’t move, which you assumed was just a side effect of the the curse.

-“MC.”

-You weren’t paying attention so the sound of his voice made you flinch. The way he said it, your name I mean, wasn’t hostile per say but you could definitely tell he was being serious and you could just feel the dread creeping up your back because an angry Satan that raged and threw stuff around was dangerous; however, a Satan that sat in silent fury was straight up lethal and you weren’t about to piss him off even more.

-“Satan…don’t freak out, OK?”

-That appeared to have hit a nerve. He stilled almost immediately and raised his head to look through his bangs at you, glare burning like charcoal despite the softness of his touch. You could argue the fiery pits of hell were present in his irises and the damnation of everyone that has wronged him, confusion mixed with sorrow and droplets of exasperation as if he didn’t understand what exactly you were asking of him. You…wanted him…to not freak out? You might as well have been on your deathbed and you were asking him to not freak out? He wondered for a moment if you realised just how ridiculous you sounded and then came to the conclusion that you were delusional from lack of rest. Or maybe you were in enough pain to start spouting all this nonsense? But he was under the impression he had already used enough spells to lessen the pain of the curse. (A demonic version of morphine if you will). Perhaps he ought to have tried a stronger spell.

-“…MC, I have no doubt that I can cure you but as you can probably notice, I’m not exactly in a position right now where I can afford to relax.”

-“I’m not asking you to cure me.”

-The bewilderment showed on his face. Satan looked at you, blinking slowly as if his brain wasn’t quite capable of processing what you just said, “What?”

-“That was the whole point of this,” you sort of gestured weakly around you, as if to prove a point even though your arm in particular was in extremely bad condition. “I thought you might’ve figured it out by now. You’re quite smart, y’know. And good at putting puzzle pieces together like a detective. You’ve seen the dagger, right?”

-In response, he furrowed his brows and took one glance at the knife again, downright confused until he spotted it; the dark aura surrounding the damned thing and the inscriptions carved onto its handle glowing slightly in the darkness of your room. There was a moment where he didn’t realise what exactly he was staring at and then it dawned upon him that there was only one thing daggers like this could be used for and it certainly wasn’t for cutting vegetables. He turned to you and this time it wasn’t uncertainty that greeted you but the purest form of indignation and wrath.

-“You…why do you…?”

-“Satan, this-“

-“No MC, why the fuck do you have this dagger on you?!” That wasn’t an invitation to answer him. I mean, you could’ve tried but he would’ve just interrupted you again and you wouldn’t have been able to get a word in. Turns out you didn’t have to. It was almost as if he already knew, as if he could already tell exactly what you were thinking, to absolutely no one’s shock or horror. As you said, he’s smart enough to figure things like this out by himself. And he did, regretting it just seconds afterwards. He was still mad but you recognised something other than anguish and fire in those green eyes of his; it could’ve been hurt or regret but you couldn’t separate the two and the next time you looked, it was gone.

-“All of this…just to bring her back?”

-You felt deflated. That was your main goal, yes; to bring your ancestor back in hopes of easing the brothers’ suffering whenever as much as her name was mentioned. That was all you wanted really-to reunite them, allow them to be with each other again or, more accurately, give them a second chance at being a family. You wanted to voice out these concerns but you could sense that Satan wouldn’t find them reasonable enough to justify your actions.

-“If this is what I think it is then I genuinely don’t have anything to say to you besides the simple fact that you did something beyond stupid. There is literally fucking nothing that could make me think otherwise, MC so don’t even try!” It was a warning, from what you could tell. Obviously, Satan did not take the new information well and now he seemed to have swallowed himself into a pit of never ending fury-the kind that won’t let others interfere under any circumstances and one that will easily consume him if left alone. The spells he placed on you were finally starting to take their effect so you no longer felt as sickly as before, which gave you just enough strength to sit up and grab his attention.

-“Satan…snap out of it. If you’ve got something to tell me, then sit down and say it already.” Your throat hurt and had a burning sensation to it every time you spoke, as if you’ve been drowning in cheese graters or something.

-There was an intensity in his stare, visibly wanting to add onto what he stated just moments prior to this but deciding against it. You could definitely see it, the battle between his logical and emotional side resisting each other. He looked conflicted. And restless. Seeing someone as collected as Satan fidgety was a new experience all together but it was on a whole other level peering at this vulnerable demon you’ve barely laid eyes upon. Surprisingly, he did sit down. Being the Avatar of Wrath meant he doesn’t take kindly to commands while he is in a bad mood but then again, you weren’t ordering him to do so. If you were, he would’ve had to obey without a choice. Now, however, he willingly dropped himself onto the seat next to you even if he was gripping its armrests as if his life depended on it. Or rather, as if your life depended on it.

-You half expected him to turn into his demon form but he didn’t and instead spoke whilst trying not to snap at you too much, “I never met her. Our sister, I mean. She was gone almost as soon as I got dragged into this existence by Lucifer’s hatred towards his Father. I don’t know her.” His teeth were gritted and now he was back at checking your injuries, in fear you might’ve moved around too much and opened them. He only seemed satisfied after he ensured you weren’t slipping into a critical condition. “I don’t know anything about her; and I don’t suppose I ever will. Even though they talk about her all the time. And it’s so frustrating-to hear about this person that I don’t know but was apparently the reason for my creation.”

-You thought he might’ve been crying, but you couldn’t get a good glimpse at his face since he was still fussing over you and tightening the bandages he wrapped around you earlier. His voice was wobbly and you didn’t know either; had no idea what he was going to do next. Teeth gritted, he roughly ran a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the blood splotches covering it-your blood, “I don’t know her…but…there are times where I can feel her.”

-He stopped and placed hand over his chest, his nails digging into his shirt as if trying to stab his way in. The action seemed almost unsettling because of how aggressive he was being. “Times when I look at them and I can’t understand their sorrow or what the hell they’re feeling and yet I still find myself resonating with them all. It hurts. To the point I want to claw my heart out because it’s too much to deal with and then I try to understand but I still don’t. I know that she was my sister and that in exchange for her, my brothers got me instead. I know…she was kind but that’s mostly because that’s what I’ve been told, not because I’ve experienced it myself. I know she was important but I don’t know her and so the only attachment I have with her is spiritual. And that’s it.

-You struggled to listen to him and even as you did, you had no idea whether to laugh or cry. You ended doing a mixture of both, weeping and breaking into laughter at how ridiculous it all was. With pools gathering at the corner of your eyes, you rubbed them away with your fists as harshly as you could. His hands reached for yours, and you stopped. Talk about an unexpected turn of events. You were so sure of yourself just a few minutes ago and now you were forced to wonder if maybe your reasoning was wrong. Because Satan told you so and you trust his judgement more than you trust your own simply because he’s the smartest demon you know.

-“MC.” He said again, his wrath dissipating almost immediately as he traced your palm with his fingers subconsciously, “It would be…great if I could see her. At least once. I do want to know her and it’s hard not to when you live with my brothers. But not by trading your life away. That’s all I have to say about the matter.” Satan moved from your hands to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if he was being affectionate or inspecting it for any signs of sickness, “I love you. So please, just…don’t leave me behind like that. Just…don’t. Stay here.”

-You wouldn’t have been able to leave even if you wanted to because he was still holding you and showed no intention of giving up any time soon. There was an urgency to the way he did it, and you guessed that he was still feeling antsy about the whole thing. All you could do was in lean on to his touch and nod your head. Things escalated so quickly, your brain really couldn’t keep up with all of the emotions you felt during this whole encounter. So, you cried properly this time around and he pretended not to notice as he continued to embrace you, allowing your thoughts to settle in properly before any further discussion was made.

-The Avatar of Wrath knows better than anyone else how overwhelming it is to be compared to someone you don’t particularly want to be associated with. Growing in Lucifer’s shadow since the day he was created was more like a cruel joke to him, and he ached to know you had similar experiences, to the point you were willing to exchange your life away just like that.

-There aren’t enough words in any pre-existing language on this Earth that could describe the pure rage he knew coursed through him at the very thought of you being dead, how lonely he would be once you were gone for good and how much he would miss your presence. He couldn’t let that happen, and to prevent this, he would need to keep a closer eye on you. After you were healed of course! And Satan was going to make certain your recovery would be quick-no matter whose blood he’d have to spare for that to be possible.

Asmo:

-“MC? Oh…”

-There was a lot to process at once. It would seem that he stumbled across something he wasn’t supposed to see-the atmosphere felt heavy and he could feel a draft coming from what he assumed was an opened window. From what he could tell, and that wasn’t much since his eyes filled with tears before he had the chance to straighten his thoughts out, his poor human was extremely sick.

-Honestly, there wasn’t a better explanation for the paleness of your skin, or for your bloodshot eyes or the dagger that you were weakly holding in your hand. Actually, the knife didn’t make any sense whatsoever but you knew it wouldn’t take long before he figured it out. You felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of Asmo panicking his way inside. It didn’t help that you dropped the knife as soon as you made eye contact with him so now he definitely took notice of it.

Obviously, he rushed to your side almost immediately and didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself. You could tell, however, that he was freaking out because he was babbling something alone the lines of ‘reverse spells’ and so on, which meant Asmo could probably sense the magic used in the room. The dagger was the final act of the ritual but now it was lying on the floor and the fifth-born kicked it too, for good measure. It skidded across the floorboards and as it did, the sound made you cringe. Everything was too loud and you felt overwhelmed and dizzy and as if you were floating. You weren’t dead, of course but the curse had already taken its toll on your body and now you were starting to feel the effects.

-“MC?! Oh no-this…this isn’t right! The concentration of the magic in this room is too much for a human to handle, no wonder you are so ill! We need to get you out of here soon, otherwise….otherwise…!”

-You kind of wanted him to shut up. He was making too much noise. Still, you could feel your throat burning up and for some reason, you couldn’t speak no matter how hard you tried to get the words out. As if that wasn’t enough, you could feel pressure on your chest and now that you were aware of it, it made it harder for you to breathe. It almost felt as if the air itself was poisonous and your lungs were basically on fire for some reason. Then…you just passed out. You didn’t slowly drift off or anything, all of a sudden your vision just went black and then you were out for good.

-Thinking about it now, you must’ve been unconscious for days on end. I mean, you were stuck in a sort of dream-like state for what felt like forever. Moments passed by too slowly and you couldn’t do much besides sit and listen to the occasional sounds coming from somewhere farther away. Even when you did, eventually, wake up, things were still hazy for you. You knew someone was forcing some kind of medicine down your throat but other than that, you couldn’t tell much about your surroundings since they were too blurry to make anything out of them.

-In any case, the treatment must’ve been going well because you regained your senses soon afterwards. Or most of them, anyway. Nothing was blurring out anymore and your hearing seemed to have stabilised, more or less. You weren’t exactly healed yet but at least you weren’t writhing away on the floor anymore, in absolute agony. You don’t remember what happened after you lost track of everything back then. If you had to guess, Asmo called his brothers and you were carried to your bed, which is where you woke up to begin with. You imagine they were all freaking out pretty badly but the thing that confirmed this was the fact that your room was a total mess. Usually, this means the brothers all trampled over it in their frantic attempt to save you. Honestly, nothing was where it was supposed to be anymore.

-Apparently, from what you could gather, Lucifer and Satan were the only ones tending to you on a regular basis, with the occasional Mammon stomping in and demanding to see you. You figured that was reasonable enough-they were kind of the only ones with expertise on the matter of keeping you alive and you assumed they’ve already had doctors (both demon and human) check on you several times a day. They told you’ve been out for a few weeks and that even though the progress is slow, you’re getting better. Weirdly enough, they didn’t question you too much about what happened but there was no way in hell they didn’t already know. Either because Asmo told them or because they came to that conclusion themselves. It was the two of them that treated you up until now, so it’s not that incomprehensible.

-You didn’t get to see Asmo until a while later. Simply because your room was sealed off from everyone else to reduce the amount of physical and mental strain on you. By the time you were fully capable of moving your arms by yourself again and sitting up without any kind of support, Lucifer and Satan both relented and allowed their siblings to visit as often as they deemed fit.

-You really thought the twins or Mammon would be the first to rush in and see you but instead, it was the fifth born that came running in with tears streaming down his face and his make up all smudged, hair ruffled and disheveled as if he hasn’t been taking care of it for ages. It made you uneasy-to see him like this, knowing how much he values self care and looking after himself. In a way, it was hard for you to admit he was going through all of this because of you. And the thought made you frustrated since you’re the one that elicited such a reaction from him whilst you were trying to fix everything.

-“MC…I….I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!-“

-Before you could say anything or even contemplate on how you should answer, he lunged himself at you at full force, nearly knocking both of you off the bed. Despite this, he didn’t back off and continued to cry into your shoulder, tightening his grasp on you the harder he sobbed. You didn’t know how to comfort him besides returning his desperate hug, and you didn’t have much to say either. So, you stayed in that same position for what could’ve been hours, until your hands were stiff and Asmo didn’t have the strength to cry anymore. His body was still shaking, even as he pulled away and sat down next to you, eyes downcast.

-“Asmo….I’m sorry.”

-Your voice was barely above that of a whisper, as if anything louder than that was going to set him off into a weeping fit again. In all honesty, you don’t recall a time where you had be this careful around Asmo or be as wary of him as you were at the moment. That’s probably because he was the type to make the people around him feel at ease; like a special skill he possessed, the ability to spread his cheerfulness and attitude towards others. Well, that’s mostly due to his charisma but nevertheless, the point still stands. Watching him dig himself deeper and deeper into despair and sorrow was horribly painful since it was a clear contrast to his usual self. You apologised but the words were hollow knowing that you had caused this and a simple ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it.

-He was silent for several more beats. Then, he raised his head and something didn’t feel right about the way he moved. Even as he shuffled around, his manoeuvres came off as mechanical, lacking any sort of flow or appeal and overall…dull. Now that he wasn’t sobbing his eyes out and you could get a good glimpse of his face; he seemed tired. Wary and aggrieved and terribly sad. But mostly tired.

-“MC…do you realise how scared I was?“

-Your turn to stay quiet. His voice was tight, and that’s how you knew this was going to end in tears again. Without much of a warning, his arm shot out and he grabbed your hand, gripping as hard as he could and almost crushing every bone in there to nothing more than powder.

-“Because I was petrified. Because…because you were sitting there, not moving and I didn’t know what to do. Because…..I….I genuinely thought I was watching you die-“

-There was nothing to say to that either. You couldn’t find the words for it and you decided you didn’t need to. Asmo was pouring his heart out to you and your own chest was hurting again, the stinging and pinching from earlier came back, and this time you knew you were just overwhelmed hearing him falter as he spoke. You could feel something warm trickling down your face and onto your lap, but you wiped the tears off before more followed and composed yourself. This wasn’t the right moment to cry about anything. If anything, you had to let him say his piece and move on without interruption because no real progress would be made otherwise.

-“MC…whatever reason you may have…if you try something like this again, I won’t forgive you. Ever.”

-This was unexpected. From the moment he entered the room, it was obvious that his feelings of dismay have already consumed him for more than just a few days, judging by his appearance alone but also by the toned down version of his mannerisms and speech. It gave the impression that he was a lot more introverted than he actually was. The deal with Asmo is that he is, and always has been, the loud and obnoxious type, willing to be as flamboyant and extravagant as possible, which further added onto his charm. The one that sat next to you, in that dreary and even (one could say) suffocating room, was none of those things. There were still traces, of course; the reflex of his hand grabbing yours, the struggle to keep his emotions at bay and the sporadic bouncing of his leg, itching to stand up and do something. Even so, he sounded cold. And you only expected cold when you were just about ready to just die and get it over with. You did not expect it from Asmo.

-“…I was-“

-His movements caught you off guard, as they always did. You found yourself facing him as he squeezed your shoulders now, hands empty with his warmth still lingering around. Funnily enough, despite your hesitance to meet his eyes and the slight trembling of your body, you relaxed almost immediately, as if the idea of tensing up whilst Asmo was around is downright unheard of. If anything, the only thing on your mind at that exact point was the fragrance of his shampoo and the inviting softness of his skin. You could easily understand now; how he could seduce humans and demons alike by touch alone. It was tempting. And then your head began hurting like crazy, breaking the spell before it even started. Though the pain was more or less subsided thanks to the heaps of medicine you were required to take, you would get random headaches every once in a while. As a sort of reminder, you suppose, of what you did and how close you were to biting the bullet. You wanted to lie back down but he continued to clutch on to you, eyes lacking any tenderness as his face gravely morphed into one of seriousness. You’ve never seen him make an expression like that and, quite honestly, never wanted to watch him do that again.

-“I don’t care.”

-There was a certain edge to the way he said it, not taking into consideration the abrupt change in his tone of voice or the roughness behind it. He sounded hoarse, as if his throat gave out completely. Which would make sense if you took more than a minute to think about all the crying he’s done.

-“…What-“

-“I don’t care what you were trying to do!” He shook your for a bit, as if to emphasise his point and drill it into your head. “That doesn’t matter! At all! The only thing that does matter is that you never do it again because next time I…”

-Trailing off, he released your shoulders and somehow you could formulate the rest of his sentence without actually having to hear him finish it. He obviously did not want to hear anymore on the matter and you were too exhausted to persist, drowsily keeping an eye on him as he fretted around you, slowly slipping back to his natural self now that he was sure you weren’t on your deathbed. It was kind of amusing, really. How he paced in circles in front of you, loudly describing all of the spa days he was going to have with you once you could actually stand up without any help. You imagined he’d already planned about fifty different trips to the salon and Majolish in less than two minutes but you didn’t expect anything less from the jewel of DevilDom, the one demon that is argued to have more influence at times than Lucifer himself.

-There was, of course, doubt. About many things, but mostly concerning how your actions impacted the members of that household. You’ve seen Asmo in a state you never wished to see him again in; it’s a rare occurrence for him not to look his absolute best but under the circumstances, you believed you were at fault for his lack of self care. Still, his visit promptly opened your eyes and made you come to the realisation that things would’ve taken a turn for the worse if you were to actually die. What you were witness to that day; that was just a glimpse of what the future could’ve held. And it was terrifying because of how out of character it was. The idea of everything going downhill saddened you, so, for the sake of Asmo if nothing else, you attempted to refrain from giving the whole ‘reincarnation’ curse another go. Just in case.

-Eventually, after you were no longer running high on emotions, you would’ve had the courage to tell him. The reasoning behind your attempt at taking your life and replacing it with hers. How it felt as if it was your responsibility to bring them all together again. It was a hard thing to do, admitting to the belief you were basing this whole operation on. Coming to terms with the fact that it was inherently foolish. It didn’t end up changing a lot, to be honest. Asmodeus continued to feel just as strongly about the situation as he did before, if not even more so.

-Granted, now he was no longer blinded by distress or tears so that made it easier for him to understand just how much of an impact his family had on you. By all means, you’ve helped them a great deal in the past, and it’s thanks to you that he even got to see the day where his family’s major problems were sorted out. However, your consideration was starting to alarm him a little bit. This wasn’t to say that he didn’t still heavily mourn for his sister but in his mind, Lilith’s chapter was over. Bringing her back would open up a whole new can of worms that he wasn’t sure anyone would be able to handle. The bottom line is that she no longer exists. That’s it. She’s dead, and has been for a while. As much as he looks back on his memories with her in fondness, he doesn’t suffer nearly as much as he used to at the thought of her, as the wound of her demise closed and quiet recently too. He’s got you to thank for that. Which is exactly what he ended up repeating to you over and over again, as he ran out of things to say and felt as if those words weren’t enough to convince you.

-Asmodeus no longer has the strength to endure the pain he feels whenever he loses something precious to him. Time always takes something-whether that’d be status or family members or even something as insignificant as a good night’s rest, which is essentially to a demon’s natural beauty. There’s always something missing sooner rather than later. Companionship is what he craved more often than not. When days dragged out for hours and hours, and he was already spent out even if he had no reason to. You made him feel….complete, but not in the traditional way. He possibly yearns for your presence, your attention and validation, more than anything else in the world and that’s perhaps what helps him regain his strength. Being left behind again… would hurt too much so even the fleeting thought of it tends to frighten him. Even once he no longer fears for your life, he still wonders if he could bring himself to live without you there by his side.

The Twins:

-“…..”

-The stench of your room is what really tipped him off about what was going on. It is subtle, meaning there’s not much of it to begin with, but the putrid odour of rust was definitely there and only amplified by the presence of unknown magic his nose could just about make out. He could sense it, swirling around and around, corrupting the actual fragrance of your belongings and replacing it with something so foul it made him want to vomit. There’s not many things out there that can make the sixth born recoil in disgust but that fear-inducing smell has got to be in his top five and as a result, it was no wonder he started shaking long before he laid eyes on you.

-“…Beel.”

-Even from the doorway, he could see the prominent splashes of blood that stained your bedsheets and the way it continued to drip onto your carpet; a noise that could only be described as deafening because it blocked everything else out and forced him to acknowledge that something was definitely not right. Panic finally settled in and the sight of you laying there, drained and possibly in unbelievable pain, made him to ignore everything that was going on in the background, including the way his brother called out to him. From an outside perspective, he looked as if he had malfunctioned, as if he physically couldn’t handle what he was seeing. And that was, essentially, the case.

-He could feel it. The weight placed on his shoulders at the mere thought of you dying. It was heavy, the burden of your death and the knowledge that he could’ve saved you but somehow failed to do so. You were still very much alive but he imagined you as a rotting corpse for more than a second and his whole world fell apart at that dreadful conclusion. It sent him into a frenzy of incoherent emotions he wasn’t prepared for and before he had the chance to process anything, he rushed to your side by the bed in an almost desperate manner. Quickly thereafter, he dropped to his knees and reached for your hand as he carefully pinned it against his chest, grip tightening when he noticed the smear of blood on your wrist. You didn’t really know if he was crying or not but maybe you would’ve been able to tell from the shakiness of his hand on yours or by the choked sob he let out as he hung his head low, unwilling to meet your tired eyes. Because he knew…he knew he managed to fail you again, just like he did before and just like he failed Lilith all those centuries ago.

-Belphie gave up trying to get him to listen. The state of mind Beel was in could not be easily breached and there was no way he would be able to pry him off you to begin with. Attempting to console his brother would be meaningless because situations like these never have a simple answer and it’s not like he would accept words of comfort that easily anyway so keeping quiet is really the only choice he has. Better that he leave the comforting to you, though not even that may end up being enough to make Beel feel better.

-The youngest found you first, surprisingly enough. In truth, he had stomped off earlier that day after a nasty fight with Lucifer and planned on locking himself in the attic until he cooled off before he had the chance to blow up on anyone else. However, on his way there, he happened to pass by your room and as he did, he caught a whiff of an odd smell that just about knocked him over from how potent it was. Perhaps he should’ve gone to get help from the others before investigating but he entered because by then, he hasn’t fully imagined the severity of the situation.

-Safe to say, he didn’t really know how to react when he found you writhing about the floor, puddles of blood forming around you and the dagger that was quite literally stabbed into your abdomen at the time. And then, seconds after stumbling across this scene, he had a moment where he could feel it slipping. It could’ve been his own sanity for all he knew or maybe his vision was just going blurry because of the tears or the suffocating scent overpowering everything because he thought he might collapse. And he probably would’ve, had he not stilled himself against the nearest wall and allowed himself to regain his composure for a minute or two. Or, at the very least, try to take rein of his emotions again because he knew he would have to do something and soon.

-Considering he was running out of options, the only logical thing he could do was help you off the floor and onto your bed, despite your insistent protests which did nothing to ease his nerves or convince him put you down. You were talking to him by then, but he was barely even paying you any attention since he was trying to figure out how bad the wound was. Or rather…the wounds. In comparison to Satan, he wasn’t quite as educated about the nature of spells since he slept through most of those classes but he could recognise one without much of a problem. And from what he could tell, things weren’t looking good at all. As he was pondering on what should be done, Beel entered the scene and, though he’ll be a bit reluctant to admit it, his presence made him feel slightly relieved. Having to handle this by himself would’ve been too much.

-“Beel…”

-It surprised you-just how weak your voice actually was. It came out as a whisper when you really intended for it to be loud enough to be heard over Belphie’s mumbling and Beel’s quiet breakdown. Right now, you were in a rather uncomfortable position; sitting up despite your wounds hurting like a bitch, the awkward feeling of being soaked in blood and the almost vice-like grip Beel had on you didn’t exactly help either. It was difficult having to focus on all of that though, because having the twins here doubled the pace of your pulse and now you were actually wondering if your heart was going to end up leaping out of your chest with how hard it was beating. The problem was that you had no idea what to say or how to explain to them what exactly you were up to. Neither of them are stupid enough to believe any bullshit excuse you may be able to conjure in that limited time so you speechless.

-“…You guys-“

-“What the fuck were you doing?”

-His question felt more like a demand than anything else. The bite in his tone of voice was expected but it still stung to hear it; to him it may have been justified, his frustration and his need to ask you what, exactly, your intentions were because stuff like this was unfathomable from his perspective but you weren’t in a position where you could be harshly interrogated without some kind of drawback on your mental health. Having people lecture sucks. But what hurts even more is when you try to help only to elicit negative reactions from those around you. Beel turned his head around to face his brother, mouth slightly agape, as if he finally realised he was there.

-“Belphie…maybe we shouldn’t yell-“

-“How can you say that?!” Belphie rounded on his brother now, brows furrowed and his face contorting into a scowl as the tips of his ears began to redden out of irritation. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the seventh born express himself so sincerely. Usually he acts all sneaky-like and hides behind the backs of others when misbehaving but now he was fully lashing out and even turning on his own twin of all people, “Look at them, Beel! They are, quite literally, hanging on for dear life right now! Shit, and I don’t even know if I can hold this spell off until everyone else gets home. Fuck if I know a single thing about damaged souls! Why the fuck did everyone decide today is the best day to leave the human unsupervised?!”

-Clearly exasperated, he started pulling on his own hair, as if that would help him conjure up some kind of decent solution. Everything his mind was coming up with was half-assed and wouldn’t actually work under any practical circumstances so at one point, he just groaned and smashed his head against the wall to his left, hand tangling itself with the vines attached to the surfaces of your bedroom. For a moment, you thought he was going to try and rip them off but he just looked at you again and this time you could tell he wasn’t going to take silence for an answer. You could feel Beel’s eyes on you as well and the pressure bubbling up from the very pit of your stomach made you fumble through your words a little.

-“…I don’t know, I felt that-“

-“You don’t know? MC, that’s just bullshit.” He pointed an accusatory finger at your bleeding covers and then at the dirty dagger that remained on the ground where he found to begin with, “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you don’t know how you got those cuts across your chest.”

-You felt inclined to zip your mouth shut and never make eye contact with anyone ever again. Moving around made your skin feel as if it were on fire and there was nothing you would’ve liked to do more than to lay down and sleep because you were under the impression you were going to black out soon. However, you could tell that wasn’t gonna happen judging by the firm hold Beel had on you. Perhaps he was afraid that if you fell asleep, you might not wake up again. You didn’t want to look at him. Instead, you dug your nails into your palm and let your eyes fall downcast, at the filthy carpet.

-“MC….”

-The sixth born didn’t say much else but it was obvious he was also expecting an answer from you. And to be honest, they both deserved one. You really wished you could’ve prevented this because it created so many holes in your otherwise flawless plan. You never intended for them to find out your motives or reasoning because you didn’t know how they were going to react. This could apply to all of the brothers but the twins especially are quite unpredictable when it comes to most matters concerning the past and Lilith as whole. Tears were pricking your eyes long before you even started speaking because it finally dawned on you that your idea ended up hurting everyone more than you wanted it to. The whole point was to help them and yet you did the complete opposite.

-“I….I was trying to bring Lilith back.”

-At the mention of his sister’s name, Beel’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped, obviously taken off guard by your words. You could feel his gaze trained on your face, searching for some sort of explanation because that was the last thing he expected you to say. In truth, he was still semi-convinced that you were attacked by some random, low-life demon scum but now that you openly admitted to attempting a ritual that was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, too much for a human like you, he really didn’t know what to think. Actually, he was pretty confused and that was putting it mildly. He didn’t quite understand what Lilith had to do with it, or why her memory had to be involved in this business.

-Belphie didn’t react as much. His expression stayed the same, though it was clear as day that his eyes hardened and that his shoulders tensed in a way that wasn’t natural his usual demeanour. You couldn’t figure out if that response surprised him as much as it did his brother because there was a tiny fragment of a chance that he already put all the pieces of the jigsaw together and processed the overall image presented him. The youngest could be classified as intelligent, if only he was willing to put in more effort towards day to day activities. You’ve dully noted that, recently, the amount of effort used in his time spent with you and Beel has increased significantly.

-Neither of them said anything. A silent agreement between the brothers, if you were to guess. Some sort of understanding. They both wanted you to finish. You should’ve known a single sentence wouldn’t be enough to quench their curiosity because that’s just how they are. Even without saying anything, they were asking you to expand on everything and go in as much detail as humanly possible. You had no choice but to oblige.

-“It’s just…I didn’t know what else to do to help and we were learning about the revival of souls in RAD at some point and I found a bunch of interesting books on the matter while studying for an upcoming exam and-shit!”

-You were getting too worked up to continue. Your adrenaline was still running high but the pain from your injuries was steadily worsening. Maybe it was just your imagination running wild, but the thought that the bleeding still hasn’t stopped crossed your mind once or twice as you reiterated your story to the boys. You didn’t look down to check and tried to keep your hands as far away from your wounds as you could. If you didn’t get this off your chest now, you probably wouldn’t be able to do it again, no matter how much the others may prod at you to do it.

-“If I died to bring Lilith back, wouldn’t everything get sorted out? I mean, I thought she might be able to help you guys a hell of a lot more than I ever could- because she’s your sister, right? I found this ritual, in a textbook I borrowed from Solomon, that talked about reincarnation and the ideas behind lost souls. Reading that got me thinking about you guys and how you all really deserve to have your sister back with you. If I only needed to sacrifice myself to make that happen, it’s really a no-brainer so-“

-You trailed off; unsure on how to end that line of thought. Suddenly, your ability to put your feelings into words disappeared and you were just left with this uncertainty about what would come next. Beel had tears streaming down his face by now and judging by the slightly wobble of his lips, you could there there more waterworks in store for him that would only lead to a breakdown of emotions.

-“You are cruel.”

-The interruption made you snap your head in the Belphie’s direction and the jerkiness of your action made you jolt because the pain was definitely not getting easier to ignore. His sharp words were a jab, or more like a full-on stab, clearly directed at you, obviously meant to hurt. It was just how the Avatar of Sloth operated, he slowly lets his irritation sizzle out of control and then he has no filter for what feels like forever, saying anything that comes to mind and what he believes to be true. The scowl on his face said as much.

-“You can stare at me all you want MC, but that doesn’t change the fact that you were making assumptions about what would be best for us! You don’t get to make that decision! That’s up to us and us alone! I’ll decide what’s fucking best for me and that’s definitely not you sacrificing yourself for my non-existent benefit. I don’t need that! What I need is for you to get this through your thick head MC, that’s it!”

-“I don’t need this either, MC. What would I do if you were to leave like this? I…”

-Following the angry rant of his brother, Beel’s slightly calmer demeanour took off guard again. His cheeks were still stained with tears but other than that, it was almost impossible to decipher the fact that he had been crying just moments prior to this, save for the glazed eyes gazing at you. He seemed to be more composed and he wasn’t shaking anymore but you could still sense a vulnerability hanging about him. You were on the losing side of this argument and yet you still had to protest because your efforts alone wouldn’t be enough to make them happy, no matter how much you may have helped them in the past.

-“Beel…you could get your sister back? Isn’t that the best possible outcome? My death, compared to hers anyway, is nothing particular special so you don’t need to feel guilty-“

-“Just shut up.” Out of nowhere, an additional hand appeared and softly dropped on top of your head, as what you could only guess were means of comforting you. You didn’t hear Belphie approach, having forgotten how quiet his footsteps could be if he wished to be stealthy in the presence of others. This was severely out of character for the spiteful seventh born, who would much rather bury himself alive than admit defeat and put his defences down. “Shut up about that. Just because I was a idiot and said some stupid things about you back then doesn’t mean you have to go ahead and parrot me like a fucking parakeet, alright? Please….”

-You kept silent after this. Really, you had nothing to refute his reasoning with. Seeing how utterly desperate they both seemed, you couldn’t bring yourself to continue because they appeared to take everything you said to heart. Besides, the pain was becoming too unbearable to tolerate so even though Belphie was still speaking, you couldn’t concentrate on a word he was saying because of it. You weren’t even standing upright on your own anymore, mostly using Beel as a support system which he noticed instantly. In the next few seconds, he helped you lay back down and touched your forehead to get a vague idea of how your fever was coming along. On the other hand, you felt as if you were drunk, if nothing else. Tipsy. Your immediate surroundings were sort of tipping over and you felt sick to your stomach. You have no idea how you could handle it so we’ll before. You must’ve been so preoccupied with the twins and defending your mindset when this all began to the point you could block out the merciless nature of your wounds.

-Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Belphie pulling out his D.D.D, trying to contact one of his brothers and inform them about your current condition, in hopes of hurrying their arrival home. After telling his twin to keep an eye on you and not let you fall asleep, he stepped out of your room, still speaking on the phone with whoever was on the other line. You were alone with Beel now and he had you pressed against his chest now, hugging you and paying any mind to the blood getting all over him in the process. You didn’t even realise he had climbed in bed with you but it didn’t matter, because whenever Beel gets clingy like this means that he’s set on one goal and one goal only. From lack of blood and the dark magic coursing your body, you were too far gone to actually figure out what he was so determined to do. As you willed yourself to stay awake and save him the trouble taking care of you, he started talking to you again, allowing himself to be speak his mind and be honest with you about his thoughts and feelings because you told him he always could whenever you two were alone. You ignored the tears gathering in your eyes as you listened and curled your hands into his shirt, even though you were already basically glued to him already.

- “Lilith’s death was the biggest regret of my life, MC. Not my fall from glory or the lost position I had as a high ranking angel. Not the fact I am cursed with this insatiable hunger that can never be satisfied or the fact that I can’t get my brothers to get along as often as I wish they would. I couldn’t reach her in time, even though I tried and I tried so hard to save them both because I knew I would crumble apart without either of them by my side. I just couldn’t. My best wasn’t enough that day, MC. But…if I can help you and if I can help Belphie too, then I’m happy. I’m happy to have you here with me and I’m happy to still have Belphie too. I’m happy you’re both still here because there’s no one else I’d rather have. And because of that, you need to get better MC. And you will. And I know it hurts. But I’ll still be here. I’ll be here and I’ll wait if I have to. And I know Belphie will too, even though he’s really grumpy right now. So don’t worry MC. I can be of help this time around.”

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This was so late but even more so than planned. I had no internet for the past week or so and as a result this post had to be delayed a bit longer. I’m really sorry for the long wait-between the lack of motivation and overall irl things happening out here, I couldn’t seem to get it finished. Nonetheless, it’s our now and I hope you all enjoy reading it :)

@hanafubukki I …uh, finished your request. Finally. After two months. And thank you for sending it to me otherwise it would’ve been lost forever, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help so thank you 🌸🌸

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[jinmukangwrites]

succumb (1/?)

Note: "?" because I don't know if I'm actually going to continue this. All I know is that I saw this post from Liccy and couldn't stop thinking about it (hopefully you don't mind me leeching a little off of your fantastic hc). I just had to write something or else I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. Unless I decide to make more of this, I'll keep this just in Tumblr for now.

Summary: While collecting firewood after a harsh day of traveling, Wild and Hyrule find themselves ambushed and alone, facing a mysterious enemy that wants Hyrule for something Wild doesn't understand... or more specifically: they want Hyrule's blood.

Tws and warnings in tags

-o-o-o-o-

It’s a night filled with the chill of air fresh after rain. The damp grass and twigs lining the ground below the still dripping trees squish below Wild’s boots as he walks, his eyes sharp for anything that could be useful.

Today’s been a rather taxing day on his energy, and he can tell it’s been the same with the others. The constant rain has caused the paths to become slick with mud and the rivers too dangerous to cross. To top it all off, they don’t even know who’s world they are in; making it so that as they journey they don’t even know where they are going.

Wild hates the rain.

But luckily, he’s not assigned with the behemoth task of finding dry firewood alone. Hyrule walks beside him, his pants and tunic blotched with dark colors thanks to the puddle he had fallen into a few minutes before.

The quite literal stumbles here and there put aside… they’ve actually done a decent job at gathering firewood so far. A few hours into their search they both have arms cradling rather hefty loads of dry twigs and branches found in miracle spots hiding under rocks and undergrowth, untouched from the rain.

A cold win stirs, causing Wild to suppress a shiver as he straightens out of picking up another stick to add to his impressive collection. He probably should have worn a warmer tunic while heading out, but Wind was looking miserable in the cold and didn’t look used to this kind of chill, so he had lent his snowquill tunic and didn’t have the heart to take it back as the poor kid sat sniffling in the driest part of camp.

Wild mentally begins to make a list of things he has that could go in a warming soup once they have a fire going. If none of them have colds tomorrow morning, he will eat Legend’s hat.

“We should head back,” Wild calls towards his companion. Behind him, Hyrule straightens up from where he was quite hilariously resembling an old man squatting down to pick up a book they have dropped. His arms are overloaded with wood, and Wild’s sure if he bends any lower he would be struggling to pick up the sticks he will undoubtedly start dropping.

“You think we have enough?” Hyrule asks.

Wild hums and looks at the two armfuls they have gathered. They need enough to last them for dinner and through the night, and a little extra if the fire happens to go out from unpredictable rain storms through the night. It’s not like Wild’s scars would be able to help him tell the oncoming storms; they’ve been none-stop aching since they found themselves in this unfamiliar forest.

After a moment of sizing up their bundles, Wild nods. “Yeah, if we’re smart with it we shouldn’t have to worry.”

Hyrule snorts. “Smart with it? Tell that to the blacksmith. He’s the one that tried to light Vet’s hair on fire.”

“In his defense, Vet kinda deserved it.”

“He accidentally caught Wolfie’s tail on fire.”

Wild snorts. “To be fair, he kinda deserved it too.”

Hyrule gives an unimpressed look to which Wild responds with a grin and as much of a shrug he can manage without dropping anything. The wind brushes past them and through the leaves in the trees, reminding them both that the night is approaching and banter can perhaps wait until they’re warm at a fire.

“C’mon,” Wild says, “we should get going.”

Hyrule’s face splits into a grin and rushes to catch up with Wild as he begins to walk back towards the direction of camp. The sound of mud squelching beneath their boots accompanies his thoughts as they go. He hopes they’ve set up the pots and pans he needs to make dinner like he asked them to. He’d like to get something warm in his belly as soon as possible and it would be so much quicker if the others realized they could maybe help make dinner sometimes.

He’s in the middle of planning out his next moves once they’re back with the others when it happens. It’s achingly familiar too—the way the air seems to turn foul and the shadows of the trees grow within the blink of an eye. Through his travels alone… before he fought and defeated Calamity Ganon… things were hardly ever perfectly okay. Safety was always rare, and things could go sour quicker than what you would expect. Wild quickly trained himself to always be aware of the dangers around him, even if everything seemed happy and safe. It saved his back more times than what he could admit, even if the pressure of anxiety pressing down on his ribs was more constant than a place for him to spend the night.

He could sense everything about to go wrong a moment before it does. He’s not sure what’s made him aware of the change—whether it’s the quieting of crows or the darkening sky—but one thing is for sure, this time he’s not quick enough to stop it.

He sees Hyrule twitch besides him and drop all of the firewood in his arms right into the mud. His hands fly to his neck as Wild drops his load and pulls out his sword. He hears a zip and catches the flash of light just in time to jump out of the way of a flying arrow.

Immediately, Wild is in battle mode. With practiced movements that he doesn’t even think about anymore, his shield is off of his back and on his non-dominant hand just-in-the-nick-of-time to block two more arrows with an equal number of thunks. With rising adrenaline, Wild looks over at Hyrule and what he sees makes his stomach twist. There, just a few strides out of arm's reach, Hyrule stumbles and tugs his hands away from his neck; grasped in his fingers is a small, thin twig with a feather on one end and a metal glint on the other. It isn’t hard to guess what’s exactly going on as Hyrule stumbles again with fluttering eyelids.

This isn’t any old attack from monsters in the forest, Wild concludes as he begins to rush towards his poisoned friend.

This is an ambush.

Just before Wild can reach Hyrule, a form jumps down from the trees between them. Wild has a split-second to recognize the glint of misshapen armor bent to fit a large reptile's body before the Lizalfols is swinging a sharp boomerang right for his throat. Wild steps back and raises his shield before he could be hit, however he has to work hard to suppress a frustrated snarl as he’s forced to widen the distance between himself and the barely standing Hyrule. He can see the other hero struggling to pull out his sword as more figures emerge from the surrounding trees.

“Alright, ugly,” Wild hisses under his breath as he shoves his shield out with calculated power. He needs to finish this quickly before Hyrule gets himself more hurt so he can figure out what poison was used and if the others are okay.

The Lizalfos screeches and stumbles back, waving its weapon wildly. Wild takes its struggle to regain balance as an opportunity to rush forward and swing his sword right for the weak spots of its armor. The monster screams impossibly high with unhuman chords before falling limp on his sword, however Wild doesn’t have time to celebrate before claws dig into his shoulders. Stifling a cry of pain, Wild is forced to let go of his lodged sword to catch his fall on his hands and knees. The well-known shriek of a bokoblin reaches his ears as he throws his weight to the side to dislodge the thing. Luckily, he’s successful, ending up on his back with the perfect position to swing his shield at the exact right moment to hit the bokoblin right in the snout as it tries to jump at him again.

“Champ!” calls a shaky voice. Hyrule.

He doesn’t sound too good.

And judging how there are several more monsters here than what he remembered before ending up on the ground… neither of them will be too good soon if he doesn’t act.

He scrambles to his feet, barely noticing how soaked in rain and mud he is now, and grabs a stick on his way up that he had previously dropped. He swings it like a bat at the next closest bokoblin—mourning his sword and mentally kicking himself for getting it stuck in the corpse of a fucking lizard—but he only manages to slightly stun it for a moment before its running after him with pig-like gurgles quicker than what he can properly lift his shield. However, before the creature can hit him, there's the flash of a friendly blade, cutting the beast down mid-air. Before him stands Hyrule, looking very pale with beads of sweat trailing down from his hairline. Wild’s about to nod his thanks, but two things happen at once that makes everything go completely downhill.

Wild sees Hyrule’s eyes roll up to his skull right before the air is knocked out of him via a viscous swing of a tail to his ankles, resulting in him landing heavily on his back.

Monsters all around him squeal with glee as Wild attempts to catch his breath and struggle to his feet. However, before he can do so, the heavy body of the lizalfos responsible for taking him down lands on his back, expelling any of the air Wild had left in his lungs. For a horrifying second, Wild’s almost afraid his head is about to be removed from his body with the flash of a sharp boomerang.

Shockingly enough, that doesn’t happen. While he feels the blade slide right against his jaw, his skin does not break. With the tug of a clawed hand in his hair, he quickly finds this isn’t a kind of ambush that he’s used to. Most surprise monster attacks stay exactly as it appears to be: an all-out attack with no more intentions than to stab things and scream loudly.

This one however is proving itself to be a little different. They want something, something that they’d keep Wild pinned on the ground with a blade to his throat alive.

Thanks to the hand holding his head up by his hair—sending a rather vicious kink into his neck as he’s still stuck on his stomach—Wild can see Hyrule completely collapsed on the ground with a few monsters hovering over him with excited snorts and grunt.

He can’t believe the two of them have been bested by monsters as low in skill as these.

Something more has to be going on.

And, just as that thought crosses his mind, there’s the sound of booted feet approaching on the soggy ground. The new presence comes behind from where Wild is pinned, so he cannot see them. However, based on the even steps and the whoosh of cloth, he can at least infer that they’re not a monster… or at least something a bit more humanoid.

His suspicions are confirmed once the figure steps into view. They look the build of a Hylian; though below the cloak that covers their face and exposes nothing but the shadow of a pointed chin… they must be a rather tall Hylian.

Which definitely isn’t good. Monsters are one thing—creatures born out of hatred and greed—but a Hylian who’s born as pure as any other human and animal in the world choosing to work with monsters? Deal with wickedness? They’re always the bigger threat. If the Yiga clan alone isn’t proof enough that Hylia’s creations can inhibit more darkness than the lowest of beasts, then Wild would ask what shrine you've been sleeping in.

Not like he could ask that now, not as the cloaked figure steps right past Wild without sparing a single glance. Wild cannot help but feel his stomach twist in fear as the person kneels down by the unmoving and unarmed Hyrule. They place a pale hand on Hyrule’s forehead, making Wild’s skin crawl.

“Get away from him!” Wild snarls, digging his fingers into the mud and attempting to push the heavy lizalfos off from him, but all that does is cause the creature to hiss and tighten the blade.

The cloaked intruder doesn’t respond nor quit in their endeavors of getting too close to Hyrule for Wild’s comfort. In fact, Wild almost thinks they didn’t even hear him.

He’s about to shout out once again—angry with being ignored—but the breath leaving his lungs fall silent as the figure brushes back Hyrule’s hair with a verbal sigh. Then, to Wild’s horror, the figure pulls back to their cloak to bring out a small vial filled with a deep purple liquid.

“What is that?” Wild demands as the lid of the vial is popped off and lowered towards Hyrule’s pale lips. “Don’t you fucking dare-” suddenly the air is squeezed from his body, forcing his protests to cease, as the lizalfos leans more of it’s weight onto his back to press his face down into the mud.

He doesn’t see what happens next, but he can put two and two together when a few silent moments pass before those human footsteps begin to finally head Wild’s way. The clawed hand in his hair loosens ever so slightly as slim fingers slip under his chin. Next thing Wild knows, he’s blinking through dripping eyelashes at the shadowed face of the cloaked figure.

Wild, of course, takes the opportunity to spit a wad of mud at the face of his enemy thanks to his little face-meets-dirt session.

He’s pretty sure he hits his mark, because in a blink of an eye Wild is no longer pinned on the ground, but lifted into the air by his neck. His feet scramble for purchase when there is none as his hands fly to his throat. The pressure on his neck is so intense that he doesn’t think to try and look at the face of his attacker. He can only gulp for trapped air like a fish out of water. Then, just like that, the pressure on his throat is released as he finds himself thrown back into the waiting arms of various monsters. Before Wild can attempt to find his bearings, his wrists are twisted violently behind his back; the motion almost yanks his limbs from their sockets. After a few gasps, it's all Wild can do to stand there with their physical restraints of clawed hands and send a cold glare at the cloaked figure.

The cloaked figure radiates irritation from where they stand, but Wild spares only a moment to bare his teeth at them before glancing back to where he'd last seen Hyrule.

He can’t see Hyrule’s face, but he’s no longer laying prone on the floor. He’s currently sat up with his chin limply touching his chest as a pair of monsters work together to bind his wrists behind his back.

Knowing that villains don’t usually restrain corpses, Wild concludes that Hyrule is still alive and returns his anger at the cloaked figure.

Wild takes a deep breath and speaks through hissing teeth, “who are you?”

“I would watch your tongue, hero,” the figure says, their voice not distinct enough to be dubbed male or female. However, Wild can practically feel the annoyance in their tone traveling down his spine. “We don’t need both of you, and your small friend is not the expendable one.”

The words settle in Wild’s gut like moss covered stones. This really isn’t any normal attack or ambush… this was a targeted mission.

Hyrule is the target.

“What do you want with him?”

The figure chuckles, their shoulders bounce in such an undeniably human way that it makes Wild feel sick to his core. “It never fails to amuse me that none of you seem to truly understand just how much more powerful and important this one is compared to the rest of you.” The cloaked figure walks towards Wild with arms spread wide. “His blood alone is more powerful than any form of magic known to any sorcerer.”

“What are you talking about?” Wild spits, forcing his face to remain cold and angry despite the pool of confusion and fear that’s beginning to swell around those moss stones in his gut.

The figure hums and tilts their covered head. After another moment, they speak with an amused tone, walking slowly towards Wild. “That slate on your belt... you’re the hero from the far future, oh how convenient. Tell me, have you ever wondered why the monsters come back to life?”

Wild doesn’t get a chance to answer before the figure stops right in front of him. He hates that even though he cannot see their face, he can practically taste the smug victory radiating off from them.

“Don’t you wonder why the moon shines red with blood?”

Wild swallows. “What does that have to do with anything?” He looks over where Hyrule is placed. “What does that have to do with him?”

The figure chuckles and leans forward close enough that Wild can almost see an outline of a pointed nose. “Everything.”

Then, with a flick of their hand, something hard smacks against the back of Wild’s skull. The world spins and pain shoots through his head and into every speck of his body. He blinks, and suddenly he’s leaning bonelessly into the grasps of the monsters behind him, the corners of his vision going black.

The last thing he sees is the figure turning back towards Hyrule with a flick of their cloak.

Then, his eyes fall shut and he knows no more.

[obxparadise]

Last Friday Night

JJ Maybank x Reader 

Word count: 5,548

~A fic in which JJ helps you recount the memories of your wild Friday night~

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, weed, and implied sex.

A/N: This is my longest fic yet!! It’s a combination of a story and flashbacks. Flashbacks are in italics! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Leave a comment and reblog if you liked it :) I also recommend listening to Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night” while reading :)

*Picture was found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~

There’s a stranger in my bed

There’s a pounding in my head

Glitter all over the room

Pink flamingos in the pool

I smell like a mini bar

DJ’s passed out in the yard

Barbie’s on the barbeque

This a hickey or a bruise?

Sunlight shines through the window curtains, brightening up what was once a dim room. Tired eyes squint against the light as you attempt to roll on your back, groaning as an unimaginable wave of discomfort shoots across your skull. Hands find their way to your head, kneading your temples to try and ease the pain of a growing headache. The heavy weight of your hangover keeps you from moving, although you desperately need a water and aspirin. Maybe something greasy too.

As your eyes flutter open slowly, they readjust to the light in the room. Heavy breaths leave your mouth, tongue darting out to wet your awfully dry lips. The rancid taste of liquor is still on your breath, and you decide the first thing you need before medicine is a toothbrush.

Movement beside you urges you to freeze in bed, heart beating quickly. Turning slowly to the side, your eyes meet with a pair of tired, baby blue eyes and a mop of messy blonde hair, sticking up in every which way. The image of the boy doesn’t register quickly enough in your head as you shriek, heaving him off the side of the bed, cringing when he lands on the hardwood floor with a thud. Whoops.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

Crawling to the other side, your heart stops when you realize who had been your bed mate. “JJ? What the fuck?”

Out of all the boys who could have been lying beside you, JJ Maybank was the very last one on the list of people you would have expected. Luckily for you, JJ was no stranger. Sure, he was more of your sister Sarah’s friend, as Sarah’s boyfriend John B was JJ’s best friend, so you didn’t mind him, but over the last week or so, you’d grown closer to the group, JJ especially. He was chill, funny, unpredictable. Extremely handsome, too.

“What the fuck me?” He asks incredulously, rubbing his now sore elbow. A tiny laugh escapes as you watch his brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck you! Why did you push me?”

“JJ, what the hell were you doing in my bed?”

He stretches, bare, tanned abdomen exposed for your viewing pleasure. Well, you definitely could’ve been stuck with someone a lot worse. No complaints, though.

“Well, I was sleeping peacefully,” he grumbles, grabbing onto the end of the bed to pull himself up. Pink sparkles litter his body, and you watch in amusement as he vigorously attempts to brush them off. Eyes scanning the room, they land on a confetti cannon. And if you had to guess, Sarah replaced the confetti with glitter. Great.  “Oh, and by the way, you steal all the blankets in your sleep. I was freezing my balls off trying to wrestle them from you last night.”

Running a hand through your hair, which is somewhat damp and undoubtedly tangled thanks to alcohol, you try to connect the dots as JJ glances at you, lips curved, delight on his face. “What happened last night?”

How much did you have to drink that you couldn’t remember a single detail? To be completely hungover and forgetful the next morning is extremely unlike you, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were truly embarrassed.

“Only the best fucking night ever,” JJ grins, happily slapping your leg, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll tell ya, you and Sarah sure know how to throw a party. Best Friday night I’ve had in weeks.”

And that’s when it hits you. Your parents are out of town, your brother Rafe is away at a three-day golf tournament, and little sister Wheezie had spent the night with a friend.

Jumping out of bed, you run to the window and peel back the curtains. Your mouth drops in horror as you absorb the sight of your nearly destroyed backyard. Flamingo pool floats are crowding the pool, some full of air, and well, some had seen better days. Pong tables and plastic lawn chairs are flipped and broken. Red solo cups litter the patio, many still filled, others crushed and empty. Rubbing your temples, you cannot imagine how it could get any worse, but a dark figure between the bushes has you pressing your face against the screen, squinting to get a clearer look. For the love of God, the DJ is passed out in the grass. Is he dead? Shit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

JJ appears beside you, looking over your shoulder. His eyes widen as he takes in the catastrophe that is your backyard. “Whew,” he whistles. “What a night.”

You elbow his ribs before stepping back, sucking in a breath as you realize how much cleaning you’ll have to do. Peeling off your clothes, you quickly change into a fresh pair of sweats and a cropped half tee shirt, making sure to throw on a few layers of deodorant after JJ’s teasing comment.

You catch him staring as you fix yourself in the mirror, smirking at a spot on your abdomen. Glancing back to the mirror, your mouth drops as your fingers brush over a deep red mark. “What is this? Where did this bruise come from?”  

You jump at JJ’s cool touch against your warm skin, and he smirks before pulling back. “That’s a hickey, Y/N.”

“A what?” Open palms slap against your forehead in disbelief. “From who?!”

The only thing JJ offers is narrowed eyes and a slight close-lipped smile.

“It was you!” The realization hits you like a freight train. “Oh my god. We fucking slept together didn’t we?”

JJ’s body shakes with laughter as you frantically search your body for more marks, exasperated sighs leaving your lips as you find a few more dotting your neck. Thank God you had just bought a new concealer because you were going to need it. “We spent the entire night together, Y/N. Do you really not remember anything?” He’s pouting, and his voice comes out almost…offended.

“Okay, you know what?” Throwing your hands in the air, you turn back to JJ, whose hands are clasped together in front of him. “I need to remember what happened last night. No more surprises.”

JJ cocks his head to the side. He considers you for a moment before hopping back into bed, patting the place next to him. Hesitantly, you join him in bed, unsure if you’re ready to recount one of the craziest nights of your life. “Where do you want to start?”

Pictures of last night

Ended up online

I’m screwed

Oh well

“Kiara Carrera!”

Squeezing your way through the various partygoers, a relieved sigh leaves your chest as you spot the feisty brunette sitting by the pool, legs dangling in the water as she listens to Pope ramble on about the season finale of The Walking Dead while simultaneously spinning in a pool float.

“What’s up?” Kie says, grinning as you bend down to hug her around the neck.

“Any chance I could borrow your Polaroid?” Right away, you see the hesitation in her brown eyes. She’s not stupid. Giving a drunk girl a camera probably wouldn’t be the best idea, but you’ve been known to be quite persuasive. “Aw, please Kie? I’ll take really good care of it, I promise.”

Sarah may have had problems with Kiara in the past, but there was never any bad blood between the two of you. Frankly, you’d been pissed when Sarah pushed Kie away. Her insecurities ruined a great friendship. Kiara had always been a good friend to your sister. It was nice to see them finally getting along again, now that Sarah and John B were officially together. I guess they really didn’t have a choice, but you knew them. Time would pass, and they would be thick as thieves again.

Kiara reaches into her bag and pulls out a light blue Polaroid camera, holding it out for you. Squealing, you eagerly take the camera, excited to document a night of memories. “Be careful with that thing. It’s brand new.”

Kiara rolls her eyes as you cradle the camera to your chest, rocking it like a child. The alcohol is finally settling in your system, so you squeeze the camera tight to your chest, saluting her before holding the camera to your eyes. “Pope, come in closer.”

He rests his arms on Kiara’s thighs, and they both flash a smile your way. Collecting the picture, you wait for it to appear on the printed film, smiling at the two happy faces. Hm. They’d make a pretty cute couple.

“Alright, I’ll be back!”

Kie and Pope send you off with a final wave as you begin snapping photos of people dancing, people drinking, people swimming. Sometimes memories fade, but with pictures, you could relive them, bring yourself back to that very moment.

Teenager years are the most important. It’s a time filled with adventure, embarrassment, growth, love, friendships. After high school, everyone goes their separate ways. It’s a part of life. Not everyone stays together. But the pictures would remind you of simpler times. Times when you were happy and carefree without a worry in the world. Times where you were surrounded by old friends. Times that would only be relived through photos.

~

The pictures are spread in front of you on the kitchen counter. Chin resting in your palm, you smile down at the photos, fingers delicately tracing the outline of the film as your body drunkenly sways to whatever song the DJ is playing in the yard. In one picture, Kiara is throwing up the peace sign while Sarah leans her elbow on Kie’s shoulder. Another shows Pope and John B, both curled in a cannon ball as they launch themselves into the pool. JJ and John B throw up the middle fingers in a third picture, and Sarah and Pope laugh at a drenched Kiara, who had alcohol spilled on her moments prior.

“Well these are pretty cool,” a voice slurs beside you. A ringed hand reaches out to touch the pictures, and you recognize the rough, bruised knuckles right away. “But there’s something missing.”

Hand on your waist, you stare up at JJ, brows raised. He leans his hip against the counter, hazy eyes trained on you as he lifts a beer to his lips, tongue slightly darting out to collect the excess. You don’t even want to know how much he’s already had to drink. “And what’s that?”

“You’re not in any of them,” He notes, motioning to the pictures. You follow his fingers as they point to each photo, and sure enough, you’re nowhere in sight.

“Huh. I guess I was so busy taking pictures of everyone else I forgot to include myself. Well then,” Grabbing the Polaroid from the counter, you hold it out in front of you. JJ watches you curiously until you nod your head toward the camera. “What are you waiting for? Get in the picture.”

He leans in close to you, his cheek centimeters from yours, hand resting gently on your hip. You smile brightly while JJ opts for a half smirk, his trademark.

“Do something silly,” You tell him, plucking the first photo from the camera. “Make me laugh.”

You joke with JJ the most out of all of Sarah’s friends. JJ’s sense of humor is unmatched, even when he’s not trying. He thinks for a moment, only briefly, before you feel his tongue flat against your cheek. It startles you but you laugh, a real, genuine laugh, just as your finger presses the shutter button.

The picture is perfect as you lie it alongside the others, gazing down at what would soon become mere memories. Head tilting to the side, you examine the photos as does JJ, and he speaks up, “We should date them.”

It’s as if he read your mind. Rummaging through the cabinets in your kitchen, you locate a black sharpie, pulling the cap off with your mouth before scribbling the date in the bottom left corner of each photo.

You smile triumphantly until JJ plucks the marker from your fingers, scrawling more words on the pictures of you and him. Grabbing the photo of JJ licking your cheek, which oddly enough was super attractive, you roll your eyes as you read the hashtag. “TGIF? Really, JJ? How old are you?”

“Thank god it’s Friday,” his smile is lazy and all you can do is shake your head and return the grin. “Come on,” JJ offers you his hand and you take it as he leads you through a swarm of people before you eventually find yourselves back in your yard. “Let’s get someone to take a group picture.”

You nod in agreement, clutching the camera to your chest, scanning the yard for the remainder of your friends. You spot them on the other side of the pool, Sarah and Kiara cheering loudly for John B and Pope, who are engaged in an intense game of one-on-one flip cup.

“Hold up, J, let me get a picture of this.” Glancing through the viewfinder, you shake your head as you find yourself to be too far away. Keeping the camera to your eye, you pace forward a few steps, oblivious to the circular pool float just inches from your feet.

“Y/N, watch out!” But Kie’s voice falls on deaf ears as you trip over the float, toppling into the water with her pristine Polaroid.

Resurfacing with a deep gasp, you rub the water from your eyes, blushing a deep red as laughter bubbles around you, but the only one with a sour expression on her face who is indeed not laughing, is Kiara.

Chuckling nervously, you hold up the drenched camera before shrugging. “Oops?”

~

“Oops?” You stare at JJ in astonishment, almost as if you don’t believe a word he’s saying. “I said oops?!”

You groan as JJ nods, burying your face in your palms. Kiara’s brand new, one-hundred-dollar camera and you just had to fall into the pool.

“God, how mad was she?”

JJ shrugs. “Eh, she was pissed for about ten minutes. But hey, she got her payback, though.” He wiggles his brows and you shrink back into the bed. “Do I even want to know how?”

“You didn’t see the Instagram pictures? Kie took them on her phone since you know, you killed her camera.” Heart hammering in your chest, you snatch JJ’s phone from his hand, mouth falling open as you scroll through and find Kiara’s Instagram, her latest post an assortment of pictures from the night before.

“Oh. My. God.”

Each picture of yourself made you squirm more than the previous as you scroll through, cringing in embarrassment. There were pictures of you with your tongue out, looking drunk and ridiculous. Pictures of you and JJ dancing on tables, flailing your arms dramatically, also made the post. Pictures of you puking in the grass and slumped over the toilet made the cut as well. And when you read the caption of the pictures, the bile rose to your throat.

“Thanks for ruining my Polaroid. #Revenge.”

Scrolling through the comments wasn’t the brightest idea either, as your eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets at the first two comments.

@rafecam19: So, this is what my sister does when no one’s home.

@wheeziebee: Wait, Sarah and Y/N had a party without me? Well, I know where these pictures are going. #momanddadsnewfavoritechild

“I am so screwed,” Your head hangs in shame, already picturing in your brain the tongue lashing from your parents when they find out. Grabbing JJ’s phone once more, you scroll to the picture of you two on top of the dining room table. Your back is pressed against his chest while his crotch is dangerously close to your ass, palm gripping your hip.  Cheeks heating, you turn the phone around, holding it out for JJ to see. “Okay, what the hell are we doing here?”

Last Friday Night

Yeah we danced on tabletops

And we took too many shots

Think we kissed but I forgot

“Y/N, you’re going to fall! Get down!” Sarah yells over the music, a beer in one hand while her other hand is firmly planted on her hip. Sarah, Pope, and JJ watch from below as you expertly climb onto the dining room table, careful not to spill the two shots in your hand.

Flashing your paranoid sister a smile, your body begins to sway to the music. Cheers are aimed your way, egging you on even more. “Oh, lighten up, Sar. Come up here and join me.”

“You’re insane,” Pope says, flashing Sarah a nervous look. “And very drunk, might I add.”

“Not drunk enough,” You answer, throwing back one of the shots. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, you’re filled with a rush of energy.

“JJ, do something,” Sarah urges, shaking his shoulder to pull his attention from your body. You’d changed out of your wet clothes after the pool incident, and your body was now clad in tight jean shorts and a black off the shoulder shirt. The more he stared, the more he didn’t want to tear his eyes away. “Talk some sense into her.”

He watches you with a playful smirk before peering back at your sister. “I have a better idea.” Much to Sarah’s dismay, JJ gathers three more shots in his hands before heaving himself up onto the table, placing one of the shots in your hand. “For you, beautiful.” JJ winks and you gladly accept the shot, toning out your sister’s pleas. The shot glasses clink together before you and JJ down the liquid. JJ finishes the last two before chucking them to Pope, who has difficulty catching them, as he’s not the most coordinated of the bunch. Too much time on the math team does that to a man.

The music changes from rap to throwbacks, and the crowd of teenagers flooding your house erupt into loud cheers as they recognize some of the songs from their childhood. “Last Friday Night” blasts through the DJ’s speakers, and even Sarah, originally annoyed with your shenanigans, eases up and pulls Kiara and Pope away to dance.

You’re left alone with JJ who is trying his damn hardest to dance smoothly and not make a fool of himself. You laugh heartily at his amateur dance moves before moving closer to him, gripping his wrists to steady yourself. You turn yourself in his arms, jumping slightly as his hands grip your hips, lightly squeezing.  He’s gentle with you now as your bodies tangle together, his lips calmly brushing your neck, and it’s a different side of him. While most of the time he’s calm, you haven’t been around JJ enough to see him let loose. The alcohol definitely helps.

His lips brush against your ear, sending a slight quiver through your body. “Is this okay?”

The feel of his front side against your backside, his hands on your body, rubbing, squeezing, and his lips dusting against your neck, jaw, ears, it’s exquisite. Blood rushes throughout your body, down your legs, up your arms, through your cheeks, in your head, and the sound of it pumping blocks out the surrounding noise. You’re the only two people in the room. At least, it feels that way.

Before your brain has time to process your body’s actions, you face JJ in his arms, hands on either side of his neck. His lips are parted slightly, breathing even, and his eyes are calculated, focused, scanning your face.

“You’re not seeing anyone, right?”

The air around you is thick, almost restricting your breaths, but JJ remains collected, eyes steady on your face. One hand situates on your hip while the other rests easily on your back. “Fuck no,” he breathes. “I only see you, baby.”

“Thank God.”

You lean in the same time JJ pushes forward, lips finally connecting in a soft but urgent kiss. Does time stop? It feels like it. And there’s no way this is your imagination, either. Weak knees, fluttering heartbeat, small gasps for air, rosy cheeks. All products of a real, sensual kiss.

JJ controls the kiss. He captivates you, and you go along with the feel of his lips, letting him guide you. The light strokes of his fingers on your back are a reassurance. Reassurance that the kiss is genuine. Reassurance that you’re safe with him. Reassurance that he wants this just as much as you do.

The adrenaline pulses within your veins.

His tongue brushes against yours.

Your head spins.

It feels like you’re floating.

You want it to last forever.

A low whistle breaks the kiss and you’re reluctant to pull away. “Shit, bro,” The voice belongs to John B who stands below you, staring with upstretched eyebrows. You’re still perched in JJ’s arms, steadying your breathing, coming down from the high. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Get out of here, man,” JJ bends down, hand slapping the backside of JB’s head. John B flinches, careful not to spill the two solo cups in his hands, before sending a wink your way. “Get a room.”

~

You blink rapidly, almost as if you can’t believe the story JJ is telling you. He watches your puzzled expression, waving his hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N. You okay?”

“I’m…yeah,” you breathe out quickly, fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes scan JJ’s face, eventually falling on his mouth, and your own lips tingle. You can almost feel his lips on yours.

“So that’s how we ended up having sex,” You finally begin to connect the pieces of the puzzle, blushing deeply when JJ howls with laughter. “No, not exactly. Well, I mean, we did fuck, but not until later. Twice, might I add.”

“Twice?!” It comes out as a screech. Dragging a hand through your hair, your eyes dart to the floor, unable to look JJ in the eye. “When was the first time?”

Last Friday Night

We went streaking in the park

Skinny dipping in the dark

“Aw, not this fucking game,” JJ whines, pulling up a chair beside Pope, blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth. The party has settled down a bit, but many drunk teens are still going, laughing, dancing, and chatting up a storm. Off to the side in the lawn, your friends are gathered in chairs, each with a unique smile on their faces. After three hours, they’re all either drunk, high, or both.

You grab a chair for yourself, but JJ’s voice catches you off guard, halting your movements. “Uh uh, princess,” When he rubs his thighs, John B hollers with laughter. “You can sit right here.”

His tone is raspy, almost as if he’s challenging you, waiting to see how you react. The electricity between you is crackling strong, and it pulls you toward him until you’re comfortably settled in his lap.

Kiara clears her throat. “Okay so I don’t know what that is,” her finger points in your direction and your body tenses up from the feeling of numerous sets of eyes on you and JJ, “But don’t let it distract you from the fact that Pope still hasn’t told us when his first kiss was.”

You silently thank Kie for bringing the attention back to the game. Pope whines childishly, taking another sip of beer for courage. “Fine, fine, if I must.” He glances around the circle sheepishly, sighing, “My first kiss was the end of sophomore year.”

“No way.”

“Shut up!

“That late?”

“Pfft. Prude.”

“Alright, alright, relax,” Pope’s hands fly up in defense. “John B, truth or dare.”

“Easy. Dare.”

Pope thinks hard for a moment, and then the lightbulb goes off. “I dare you to go streaking around the yard.”

You stifle your laugh as John B’s face scrunches together. “Aw, come on man! Have some respect, my girlfriend’s here. I don’t want anyone else seeing my balls.”

“Hold ‘em,” JJ pipes up. “They’re small anyway, wouldn’t be covering much.”

John B flips off JJ before quietly cursing Pope to hell. Placing his beer on the ground, JB sheds his clothes, cheeks reddening as he shields himself from wandering eyes.

Your yard is big, spacious, and it takes JB a full two minutes to run around the backyard, weaving in and out of trees and bushes. Some are recording, like JJ and Kiara, while others like you, Pope and Sarah, try (and fail) to contain your laughter.

John B’s cheeks are flushed red as he stumbles back over to your group, and you desperately try to hide your laughter as JJ replays the video.

“Think that was funny, Y/N?” John B asks, pulling his clothes back on. He settles back into his chair and takes a long swig of beer. “No worries. I have one for you. Truth or dare?”

Normally you’d opt for truth, but tonight is different. You’re feeling bold. “Dare.”

He doesn’t even need to think. “You still have that hot tub on the deck, right?”

You nod, curious as to where he’s going with this.

“I dare you to go skinny dipping in the hot tub.”

“That’s it?” You ask, shocked your dare wasn’t anything raunchy. “I mean, that’s a pretty easy dar-“

“With JJ.”

You freeze.

And suddenly, you feel sober, although your BAC levels suggest otherwise.

“Damn you got her good,” Sarah mutters, supplying her boyfriend with a high five. “She won’t do it, though.”

“Oh, no shot,” Kie agrees with a nod.

JJ shifts underneath you, hand brushing your hair from your ears as he leans in to whisper, “What do you say, baby girl?”

That fuels you. Determined, you stand in front of the group, fingers going to the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, and tossing it to the ground.

Left in only your bra and the tiny shorts that barely cover your ass, you direct your eyes to JJ, smirking at the shit eating grin plastered on his face. “You coming?”

~

You danced with him. No problem.

You drank with him. No problem.

You kissed him. No problem.

Getting naked with him? Problem.

The lights on the deck are dim, hiding the bright color on your cheeks. The jets in the hot tub whirl beside you, taunting you, screaming at you to complete the dare.

Opposite you on the other side of the hot tub, JJ stands coolly, eyes drooping, lazy smile, taking long drags of his blunt. You watch as his lips form an ‘o’, blowing the smoke into the air. He’s calm, and you want that same tranquility.

He smirks as you pluck the blunt from his fingers, taking a long drag yourself. You feel dizzy, lightheaded, and cough out a puff of smoke.

“Easy, princess,” He cocks a brow, studying you. “Nervous?”

It’s amazing how quickly alcohol fucks with your emotions. One minute, you’re having the time of your life, dancing and kissing a boy way out of your league. And then a minute later, you can barely look at him. “Little bit.”

JJ takes another pull. “Tell you what. You turn around and I’ll change first. Then when I’m in the tub, I’ll turn around so you can change.”

You agree and turn your back to him, providing him with privacy although your head is screaming at you to sneak a peek. A splash in the tub has you turning around, swallowing as JJ rests his arms on the outside, blunt hanging from his smile. He’s effortlessly sexy, and you’ll make sure to thank JB later for the dare.

He winks before turning around slightly, awarding you with the same privacy you supplied him. Your shorts go first, then your thong, followed by your bra. Breathing deeply, you cross your arms over your breasts, thankful that JJ couldn’t see.

But unbeknownst to you, JJ had turned back around. “Sweet ass.”

Yelping, you struggle to cover yourself as JJ chuckles, holding up his arms to block the water as you tumble your way into the hot tub, letting the water shield your body. “Shit, JJ. You weren’t supposed to turn around!”

“And you thought I’d listen, why?”

Rolling your eyes, you settle deeper into the steaming water, moaning slightly as the jets massage your back. Across from you, JJ observes you with a smile. “You don’t need to be shy around me, you know. We’re friends, after all.”

“I’m not shy.”

JJ snickers. “Please. You don’t think I notice how your body tenses up whenever I’m close to you? You think I don’t see when your cheeks get that little pink color when I look at you?” His head hangs, tilted to the side, blunt held between his thumb and forefinger., lowering his voice. “You think I don’t know how much you wanted to kiss me tonight?”  

There’s no way he can read you that easily, so you play it off. “Alcohol changes a person.”

His grin irritates you. He doesn’t believe you. Why doesn’t he believe you?

Drawing in a breath, you decide to go for it. You swim over to him, watching as his eyes widen, now alert, and climb into his lap, palms flat against his tanned chest. One hand goes to your hip, holding you in place. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not shy,” you repeat, brushing your lips over his. JJ’s chest rises and falls with harsh breaths, and for a second, you believe you misread the signals. He takes a quick pull of the blunt and you cover his mouth with your own, dragging the smoke back into your mouth, titling your head back, releasing it into the air.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

The blunt, now finished, falls from JJ’s fingers as his hand slides around to the back of your neck, pulling you in, kissing you hard. Your mouths mesh together, igniting a fire in your bones. Fingertips dig into his flesh, marking him. JJ’s hand on your waist pushes you further against him, impossibly close to his skin.

The sound of your heart is loud in your ears as you try to focus on moving your lips in sync. JJ’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. His fingers dance over your neck, your throat, and down the center of your breasts.  

The tip of his dick rubs against the inside of your thigh, causing your mouth to open slightly. JJ takes advantage of the opportunity, slipping his tongue in your mouth, exploring, claiming.

You find yourself not wanting to stop. All of the nerves leave your body with each kiss JJ presses to your swollen lips. He’s hungry for more and so are you, but for something different.

He freezes when your hand disappears beneath the water, gripping his length in your palm. His wrist flies to your hand, stopping you, as his other hand runs through his hair, considering. “Listen, princess, as much as I really want to do this, I don’t think--.”

A finger to his mouth cuts him off, a sly smile playing on your lips as you shake his hand from yours. You reposition yourself over him, breasts peeking out from the water, as you slowly sink yourself down onto him.

With every groan that leaves his lips, and with each new swirl of your hips, you feel waves of confidence wash over your body. You’re drunk, he’s high, and you both feel alive.

This Friday night

Do it all again

The ceiling in your room distracts you from JJ’s face, which, if you know anything about him, has a wide grin on it. Heat bubbles in your chest as you replay the story in your head, ignoring JJ’s teasing comments about the color rising in your cheeks.

Sitting up abruptly, you turn to face him. He’s leaned back on your pillows, arms behind his head. “After that, we fucked right here,” JJ pats the bed proudly. “And that, baby girl, was your Friday night.”

Well, it could have gone much worse.  

“Sounds like I embarrassed the ever-loving fuck out of myself.”

JJ laughs, holding out his arms. You send him a look before complying, hooking your leg over his waist, resting your head against his bare chest. His one arm lazily wraps around you, the free hand skimming over the skin on your thigh.

“I am never having another party ever again.”

JJ cringes. “Yeah, about that…you might want to check your phone.”

You snatch it from the night stand, crossing an arm over your chest as you read messages from a very large group chat. “JJ…why’s everyone talking about a party?”

But he doesn’t get the chance to answer as you scroll to the very top, phone falling between your legs as you read the message you drunkenly sent before you passed out at three in the morning.

Party at our house this Friday night! Let’s do it again, bitches.

You stare at JJ, palms flat against your head as he falls off the bed in laughter.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 10 (Finale)

“Under the Knife” - Part 10 (Finale)

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Story Masterlist - Here

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Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3,800-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, talk of violence, talk of death

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: Well, we are finally at the final chapter. This has been such an incredibly challenging story to work on, but I have learned so much from this process that will no doubt help shape my future stories.

Thank you to all of the readers who have liked, reblogged, commented, messaged, and reached out to me. This has been the best response I’ve gotten on a story and it has filled me with a level of appreciation that I wasn’t expecting. <3 

With the sappy stuff out of the way, please enjoy the final chapter of “Under the Knife.”

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled​ @germansarechill​ @rentheanonymous​ @liadamerondjarin

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

“Taking into account that Henry Urik was left-handed, I was able to throw my head back, causing him to falter, and then lean to my right in order to escape his grasp and not have my throat sliced open. This gave me enough time to get back to the table and get my hands on the gun.” 

“Unfortunately, the gun was empty. It’s common for killers to use unloaded or fake guns as intimidation techniques with their victims. My mistake gave Henry enough time to stabilize himself and grab hold of me again, resulting in a mild concussion and being knocked unconscious until a few hours later. Luckily Dr.Lecter was able to fight, thus saving me until Special Agent Crawford and his team could come.” You looked around and saw a few people taking notes while others just nodded their heads. Checking your watch, you saw that you had a few more minutes left to fill up. “And with that, I have time for one or two questions before we leave.”

The lights faded up a little bit, nothing too harsh for you. You quickly scanned over the larger than the normal crowd in your lecture hall. 

The fact that you, a survivor of the Virginia Scalpel, were giving a lecture on the case had attracted the minds of not only your normal trainees but the higher-ups as well. 

It was a slightly dizzying feeling to see the faces of management in your lecture hall, but that could also be the still healing minor concussion from a serial killer slamming you into a table a little less than a week ago. Either way, you took this time to sit on your desk and drink some water as you pointed to one of the trainees in the first row.

“I don’t want to bring up anything too triggering, ma’am, but I--”

“Kid, if I wasn’t okay enough to jump back into the shitstorm named Henry Urik, I wouldn’t have agreed to be here today.” A scattering of chuckles echoed through the hall. You were glad to hear that your lighthearted comment helped ease the tension in the room. “Please, continue. I’ll be okay, I promise.” The agent nodded and took a breath, whatever they were going to ask must have been weighing on their mind enough to scare them. You could tell that they were trying to hide it, but your ability to read people's subtleties was strong.

“Thank you, ma’am. I wanted to ask for your advice. What should we be aware of if we’re ever in a similar situation with an unstable or unpredictable suspect? What do we do?” 

You nodded and thought for a moment before you responded. You had a feeling that this type of question would come up now or through an email later on. Fiddling with your ring, you spoke.

“To be honest, you have to be able to assess everything at the moment. I may have seemed to have a handle on the situation externally, but internally? I was a quivering, frantic, and terrified mess. With Henry’s focus being solely on me, I knew I couldn’t just sit there. I knew that if I froze, it could have cost not only my life but also Hannibal’s.” You took a deep inhale through your nose before continuing. The thought of losing Hannibal hurt your heart. “My advice: really focus on the suspect. What are they saying? How are they saying it? What are they doing? Are there any mannerisms o-or phrases that hint at any sort of soft spot?” 

You held up a finger and turned to your computer, scrolling back through your presentation until you found the slide you were looking for. It was a diagram showing how all of the victims tied to Henry as well as Henry’s symptoms. You turned back towards your class.

“While I knew a majority of this information before my encounter with Dr.Urik, I only knew the facts at face value. When he and I talked about his experiences with all of these doctors, Henry let his anger and annoyance towards these men out. His voice changed from the seemingly calm and confident man that had just had a gun pointed at me, to a frustrated patient who just wanted answers that he believed in.”

“Now if we want to talk about more physical tells, that is the premise for another lecture entirely. You can tell a lot about a person without either of you having to utter a word.”

You looked at the trainee, they were watching you, truly listening to everything you had to say. From the almost unnoticeably tensed jaw to the stiff posture, this future agent was using all of their power not to tremble in fear at the thought of being in a scenario like this. You saw the fear in their eyes.

“As long as you breathe, remember your training, and let yourself fully assess the situation at hand, you’ll do the best you can do. Trust me, there were two very distinct moments that night where I thought and accepted the possibility that I was going to die. That’s a risk we all take with this job. But I focused on what I could do next and kept going. And that’s what you’ll learn throughout your time in training and in the field. You cannot stop, you have to keep going.”

You ended with a smile directly to the trainee to try to calm their nerves even a little bit. They visibly took a deep breath and nodded, giving you a quiet “thank you” before writing something in their notebook. Your saw movement out of the corner of your eye. Will and Hannibal were now standing off to the side, letting you know that you were almost done. Will was more rigid than usual. You assumed he heard the part about accepting death and he did not like that thought. 

Hannibal caught your eye as he tapped his watch. Nodding, you looked back to the class, prepared to dismiss them. That was until you saw a hand near the back. Before you could say or do anything, the man with the raised hand spoke. 

“How were you able to confirm the Scalpel’s motive? What stood out with him that made him suspect number 1?” You took a slightly larger breath as you realized it was one of the assistant directors speaking. Blinking a few times and gathering your thoughts you tried to sound as professional as you could. 

“Well, we originally were looking for an active doctor. Someone who could have access to the equipment and drugs needed for these killings. But then we realized that it could be a former doctor who was now a patient of these doctors.” You gestured to the slide projected behind you. “As for motive, we could only theorize until we talked to Henry himself. And while talking to him face-to-face last week revealed a lot, we cannot actually confirm anything when it comes to his psyche.”

“But you said it yourself, he was frustrated at the answers that these doctors had given him. So wouldn’t the Virginia Scalpel murders be crimes of passion, making his motive emotional overload?” The man spoke. You were thrown off just a bit, but found your way back to correct wording.

“They actually weren’t crimes of passion. Those are usually impulsive and emotionally driven. The Virginia Scalpel crime scenes, especially that of Dr.Pencalt and his wife, showed us that Henry was methodical and purposeful.” 

“Yes, there could have been an emotionally charged aspect to it. He was upset with these men. I theorized with Dr.Lecter and Special Agent Crawford that these killings could have been some sort of pain relief for his headaches. The act of slaying these men took all of his focus, alleviating the pounding in his head.” 

“At one point, he said that killing was a form of mercy and life could be considered torture. So he could very well have just wanted to spare them from this mortal coil. Or maybe Henry saw these murders as a way of honoring them. Maybe there was even a thrill-seeking aspect that he got a kick from.” You stood up from your spot on your desk, feeling yourself getting a bit weary after so much talking over the last hour or so, and tried to politely wrap this all up.

“Where I’m going with this is the fact that we can theorize all we want-- Hell, we can even settle on what we believe his motive was. But that’s all it’ll be: A belief. We will never truly know because Dr. Urik was found dead in the woods behind his former office building, stabbed a handful of times, and had enough of his own paralytic drug in his system to take down an ostrich.”

They were out of your sightline, but Hannibal and Will both smirked at how well you had handled the situation. It wasn’t often that managerial positions were proven wrong in front of a classroom full of people. However, both of their smiles slowly fell as the assistant director continued.

“I guess his death is a breath of fresh air, right? You can sleep at night knowing that the Virginia Scalpel is no longer out there. No more target on your back.” The assistant director tried to say that as a lighthearted joke. Something to lighten the mood. But you forced a pained smile and spoke your mind.

“Yes. I am thankful that I don’t have to worry about a scalpel cutting into my cheek again, or almost slicing my throat, or finding Dr. Lecter chopped into pieces in his bed or maybe even Henry breaking his pattern and going after the last bit of family that I have left. I guess sleeping should be easier, shouldn’t it?” 

You looked directly at the man as you spoke, the gravity of your situation and the insensitivity of his statements hitting him. You shifted your gaze to the trainees that were in the first few rows and continued, straightfaced. 

“But I am curious as to what he would have to say and how that perspective could have helped us catch others like him. I hope that you all can find that same curiosity as I do. If we can catch them and talk to them, we could learn what makes them tick and get information that could help us catch the next one before it's too late.” You let a beat of silence pass, letting your words sink into the minds of the young ones. “Thank you all for your time. For questions regarding the Virginia Scalpel case, please contact Special Agent Crawford and he will see if you are authorized to view the file notes. If you need to reach me for any reason other than the Virginia Scalpel case, you all have my email. Stay safe out there.” 

You turned away from the class and shut down your computer, trying to gather your things as the room applauded. You raised a hand as a way of saying “thank you but please stop” and they all filed out of the room. 

“I think that went well despite Assistant Director Ass-Hat’s commentary at the end there” Will made his way to you, grabbing your jacket from the chair behind you and holding it in his hands, gripping it tighter than normal as if doing so would solidify in his brain that you were here and safe.

“Thanks. For someone with a shaken brain, I think I did pretty good today.” You joked back at your brother. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the beginnings of his brain spiraling with worry. 

If he was being honest, Will still hasn’t fully gotten over the events of last week. It was his exact fear almost coming true. And while he was forever thankful that you were alive today, he was worried that this near-death experience wouldn’t be enough to stop you from continuing to work active cases. The fact that you wanted to give this presentation so soon after you were released from the hospital validated his worry more and more.

“I still think it’s too soon for you to be back here.” 

“If you had your way, I would never step foot near this building again, Will.” You joke over your shoulder as you slide your laptop into your bag. “But I also think that that is just your way of trying to get me to be a 24/7 dog sitter.” Will huffed out a breath that sounded like a dry chuckle.

“I’m not saying that, but if you ask Winston or the others, I’m sure they would be all for that idea.” 

You finally turn fully to Will and lightly smack his arm. His face fades from a small smile to an unmasked face of worry as he looks down at the jacket in his hands that he is still fiddling with.

“I know this isn’t going to change your decision on whether or not you stay with Jack’s team, but I really don’t like that idea.” 

“You said the same thing the first time we had this conversation.”

“Yes, but that was before you got seriously injured while working a case.”

“I wasn’t seriously injured.” Will was going to interject, but you kept talking. “But I understand. What we do is dangerous. But I’m going to say the same thing I said last time: I have the chance to save lives, and that is a good enough reason for me to stay.” 

Before either of you could continue, Hannibal finally made his way over. His hand landed comfortably on your lower back for a long moment to alert you of his presence. 

You and Hannibal had talked about your mutual feelings for one another and agreed to start exploring a romantic relationship. That being said, you haven't told Will yet. Luckily, the gesture from Hannibal was easily passed as friendly to your unknowing brother.

“The assistant director wanted me to pass along his apology, (Y/N). He didn’t mean to insult you with his statements.” You waved your hand dismissively.

“I know he didn’t mean to. But it was a nice excuse to hand a ‘powerful male’ his ass in front of a whole room. I’m sure his ego will bounce back in no time.” You let a devilish smirk grace your features, earning a smile from Hannibal and a chuckle from Will. 

Hannibal looked to Will and saw how he was holding your jacket. Hannibal just offered his hand.

“I can take that, Will. You should go. You don’t want to be late for your own lecture. I will make sure your sister is safe.” 

The hospital discharged you, but you were still healing. The cut on your cheek was almost healed, but you kept a bandage on it to be safe. A scar would surely form, permanently reminding you of your first case. Most people would associate it with the fear of impending doom by the hands of a serial killer. But you were actually okay with it. You saw it as a reminder of what you were able to survive.

The most inconvenient thing was that you weren’t allowed to drive yourself. Between the healing concussion and the medications you were on, driving was not the safest thing. So Hannibal and Will took it upon themselves to compare schedules and be your drivers. 

When Hannibal had afternoon patients or had to work late on something, you would stay with Will. On days where Will was needed at work, you would stay with Hannibal. Sometimes you would stay in their homes, and sometimes they would crash on your couch. Well, Will would crash on your couch. Hannibal would share the bed with you, protecting you from anything that would try to get you physically or mentally. 

Even when you decided to stay at Hannibal’s home, you felt safe. The dining room was a bit haunting. But you knew that no matter what, if something felt off or if you were in any sort of danger, Hannibal would step up and help the best he could. 

Your boys (and the dogs) made sure you were safe no matter where you were.

 If there was anyone Will trusted to watch over you, it was Hannibal. He was the reason you weren’t the Scalpel’s ninth victim.

Will just nodded and struggled to hand over the jacket. Your heart ached because you knew how easily concerned he got when it came to you. But you could also see that he was trying to let go of some of that worry, letting himself see that Hannibal was a safe man to have in your life. You closed the gap between you and Will and wrapped your arms around him, feeling how tense and distraught he was. 

“I will text you as soon as I get home, alright?” Will nodded his head as he squeezed you just a bit tighter. You squeezed back, knowing he needed the reassurance. He pulled away and you patted his shoulder. “Don’t give your kids too much shit today.” 

You both snorted, knowing there was some truth behind the joke. Will said goodbye to Hannibal and left the room, leaving you and Hannibal alone. 

As much as you wanted to hurry up and get out of here, you had to lean against the desk as you zipped up your bag, really feeling your lack of energy now.

“Are you alright?” Nodding, you took a sip from your water bottle before speaking.

“Yes? Did a lot of talking and thinking today. I think I’m starting to get tired.” You let a chuckle-esque exhale come through your nostrils. “Gotta build my energy back up.”

Hannibal stood in front of you, gently placed your jacket down on the desk, and took one on your hands in his. To any normal person, it just looked like he was holding your hand to comfort you. But you knew him. He was gathering data: Pulse, temperature, if your hands were clammy, and whatever else he could find out. But he was also holding your hand to comfort you a little.

After determining your vitals to be manageable, he lifts his hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek for a moment.

“I think it's time to go home and rest, don’t you?” Hannibal proposed. You nodded and grabbed your jacket from next to you.

“My place or yours?”

“Your choice, my love.” You couldn’t help but smile at the new and special sobriquet that Hannibal had started using more frequently. Hannibal kissed the back of your hand before helping you stand up, putting your hand on his arm to guide you out.

“I think my place tonight. And maybe we can stop at the store on the way and you can finally show me how to cook something worthy of the esteemed food artist, Hannibal Lecter?” Hannibal smirked at your dramatics.

“Do you think you’ll have the energy for that?” 

“No. But I’d still like to try.” You leaned towards Hannibal and felt a pleading smile make its way across your face, knowing Hannibal was already going to agree to your idea. He still pretended to think it over before nodding. 

“That sounds like a lovely evening.” You felt yourself wiggle just a bit out of happiness, Hannibal smiled at the cuteness of the motion.

Hannibal reached out and touched the doorknob, but before he could open the door, you were distracted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. When you looked at the caller ID, your feet stopped moving and your heart dropped. You couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or excitement. Maybe a weird mix of both.

Hannibal turned to you, watching your face carefully as you answered.

“(Y/N) speaking.” 

“How you feelin’, (Y/N)?” You hadn’t heard Jack’s happy voice in a while. You weren’t sure if this one was real or fake. So you proceeded with caution.

“I’ve been better, but I’m also doing a lot better compared to a few days ago.” 

“Good. Good...” Crawford trailed off, his mind obviously on something else. 

There was an awkward silence. You knew Jack was trying to figure out how to phrase something without stressing you out after the last couple of weeks. You knew what that something was and you appreciated the effort to try and not overwhelm you, but you didn’t like this small talk part. So you took a deep breath before kick-starting the conversation that you knew Jack was trying to ease into.

“I get the feeling that this isn’t a social call, is it, Jack?”

“No. It is not, (Y/N). We have another odd case that we could use your help with.” 

You felt your thumb subconsciously go to wiggle your ring. You knew this conversation was going to happen eventually, but even knowing that didn’t lessen the anxiety you felt. Hannibal stepped closer and took your hand in his, lightly running his thumb across your knuckles. You knew he was trying to ease your mind with the small gesture. You mouthed “Thank you” to him and smiled. 

Jack continued before you could say anything. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now. But the sooner the better.”

“How about I get back to you tomorrow afternoon?” You stated more than asked. Jack agreed to that and hung up. Hannibal could see that you weren’t stressed but you also weren’t excited. 

“I take it Agent Crawford wants to borrow your mind again?” You nod your head, going back and forth in your mind about whether or not to take him up on his offer again or let yourself rest for a bit longer. “What’s stopping you from saying yes?”

“Not much to be honest.” You look at Hannibal and see him watching you, ready to react to anything you say or do. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“Could you be my partner, Hannibal?” You ask and almost fear his response. You didn’t want to be a burden. But very quickly you are met with that lovely rare smile of his. 

“It would be an honor to be your partner, in life and on a case.” You smile as you lean towards him and he meets you halfway, pecking your lips softly, his hand smoothing its way to your back. The two of you pull away and he ushers you out of the room. “After all, someone has to protect that beautiful and reckless mind of yours.” 

You shot Hannibal a look as the two of you walked to his car, ready for one more relaxing night before jumping right back into the chaos.

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 32: Timmy*

Timmy* gave off a frat-boy kind of vibe with the pictures in his profile, a trope that has become my type. His profile did seem to be half-heartedly filled out; his hometown was just the abbreviation of the state, his employment simply said "cardiac surgery," and a couple typos.

Mostly my reason for wanting to message him, in particular, was that one of his prompts about a travel story was very obviously cut off and he ran out of characters. I messaged him saying the cliffhanger was dramatic and wanted to hear the whole story. It was a very long story, involving being in Ireland and a random person coming into his and his family member’s room. I mentioned I didn’t have anything quite that interesting regarding my travels before. We chatted more and although I wouldn’t say we had a lot of similar hobbies and interests, the conversation did flow well. He was definitely more active than I, going to the gym often and eating pretty healthy and en mass. Very much a gym bro type. I also had assumed he was a surgeon, given his position being cardiac surgery, but then learned later he was more involved in some sort of programming instead for cardiac devices, so not really cardiac surgery per se.

When we moved away from Hinge and onto text messaging, we were both mutually behaving as if we had known each other a while, and better than we did. At one point, he had asked, “are you a guy version of me?” To which, I was very aware of how little we knew about each other, which led me to respond that it was too soon to tell.

I did however confirm my place as forever the more aggressive one; I text him one day "Timmy*, when they fuck are we going out?" Not that it had been too much of a long time talking, but just that he had not yet made a move, and that we were obviously getting along and it would make sense for us to take that next step. We plan for a few days from then, a Tuesday, after work, and that it would have to be more or less played by ear because of our jobs' schedules being semi-unpredictable. My easy place, Armature Works, was chosen as where we would meet up.

Our date got pushed back slightly, as I got off on time, but he was going to be held up at work later than expected. He did however give me ample heads up, so I just relaxed at home a little longer than I would have otherwise, and perfected my outfit and minimal make-up. The day of the date, and leading up to it, I made jokes about being a catfish and that I was actually a middle-aged, fat, Russian man. I continued this while I waited for him when I was describing what outfit I was wearing so he could recognize me better with my mask on, then later added that I was still a middle-aged Russian man, but that I was still wearing a skirt and crop top. I waited for him on a bench for almost 30 minutes. I arrived on time to when he had delayed the date, but still too early apparently. Luckily, I had brought my headphones, so I just listened to some music to pass the time by.

Finally, I received a text message saying that he had parked and then that he could see me. Nothing is more uncomfortable than being seen and not seeing who is looking at you. I looked around and didn't see anyone that looked like him, so I went back to staring at my phone. Eventually, a man looking more like him appeared trotting down the small set of stairs next to me. Although he definitely wasn't short, he seemed shorter than what I was expecting, and his hairline seemed to be just starting to recede.

He was not familiar with the location as much as I am, so I took it upon myself to give him a tour of the location. Despite being indoors, and still pretty amidst a pandemic in late February, Timmy* kept taking his mask off. As a healthcare worker, I was confused and appalled; he should know better. I yelled at him every time to put it back on. Once he said, "you're one of those huh?" I almost rolled my eyes back into my head. Then he also asked me, "well when can I take it off?" to which I responded, "when we are outside and/or we sit down to eat/drink." He got a beer at one of the bars, and it was a beer that had some marijuana in it, which was an interesting choice. After having toured the whole place, it was time to split off to order our respective meals. I got my food, and a drink, and wandered over to the area I had last seen him, as he had said he was going to get a pizza. He was nowhere to be found, so I text him asking where he was. He indicated that he was over by where he had gotten his beer.

I found him and then he told me that he had ordered food from two different restaurants because he couldn't decide and also eats so much due to his athleticism. We found a spot to sit nearby outside, and it is a lovely night, we were comfortable in the fresh air. We both finally did take off our masks and started to eat.

I half-heartedly apologized for being so hard on him regarding the mask-wearing, but emphasized that I am passionate about proper mask-wearing because of my experience with having the virus and wanting to make sure to reduce the spread. He then said, "Oh you had COVID! I'm in a way glad to hear it." He then pauses before saying, "I have COVID too. My doctor said I'm asymptomatic? So I'm totally good." My eyes must have gotten the size of saucers; I leaned away from him and was looking around seeing if anyone had heard him. "Wait what?" Is all I could say. "Uh, no. Please tell me you're joking?" Timmy* stares at me confused, "I'm asymptomatic! So that means like I don't have it."

I am prepared to leave immediately. "So you had a positive test? What? Why are you here right now?" I say. Finally, he drops the rouse and admits he was kidding, but that he got me. "That was not funny. I was legitimately terrified!" So far, this date is bizarre. He mentions that because I joked around so much that I would appreciate it. I did not.

We eat our food and chat. Unfortunately, he also is a person who seems to eat with their mouth open. Another strike. Timmy* has become very comfortable around me, as he also decides to tell me another long story about the time he was "sexually assaulted by a doctor." Which was that he went to a doctor for a physical and that she had grabbed his testicles and had him cough, though the way he told it was extremely drawn out and had many mini-stories leading up to the point that was supposed to be the assault. I then told him, "I'm sorry to say that your doctor was not trying to hit on you on anything, that is a normal thing that happens with mens' checkups." This was news to him. It was obvious that he is not a well-versed healthcare worker.

Once we finished our food, I suggested we walk along the river. First, though, I wanted to drop off my leftovers in my car. We walk to it and I make him guess what kind of car I drive. He is impressed by my car and we don't linger long before I say we should leave the parking lot. He tells me that he has a muscle car, which is so random and I would never put him in a car like that. Whereas a sixteen-year-old girl might be googoo-gaga over this, as a full-grown adult, it isn't quite as alluring to have a car like that.

While on the riverwalk, I become irritated at the fact that he walks very slow. Slower than I am able to walk. It makes no sense as I am significantly shorter than he is, so my strides shouldn't be longer than his. I mention to him that he walks slow and I ask that he walk a little faster. He picked up the pace, but then slowly reverted to his tortoise-like speed over time. I tire of our uneven velocities and we take a seat on some rock benches. We chat about brief things and I suggest we walk back. Again, I battle with the paces, mention it a couple more times that I am unable to walk as slow as he walks.

We get back to the main area of Armature and take a seat in some oversized chairs. He tells me about his family and some stories about his relationships in middle school and high school, which are also drawn out and bizarre. It nears 10pm, and we are told by staff that they close at 10. A couple minutes til, I remind him we need to leave and I ask where he parked. He parked in a different lot, I offered to walk him to his car. He offers to drive me to my car. We do so and his muscle car is indeed very overly-masculine. He goes on to go through a bunch of random songs on Spotify, only playing each song for less than 30 seconds, very ADHD-like. He drives me to my car, but wants to keep me there, again showing me more songs. I'm politely just listening as he flexes on all the types of music he listens to. He tries to show off that he knows "alternative music," my preferred genre, but I point out that a lot of the songs he's playing are more "pop-punk" or just old alternative jams.

He compliments my music taste and mentions that he has noticed I am adept at knowing song names, musicians, movies, and so forth. I begin to joke that likely I am a little autistic, adding "I'm working on my eye contact," as I make direct eye contact with him. What he says next, is something that I was not prepared for, and something that still baffles me, and possibly always will. "Yeah, you do look a little retarded." Immediately, I burst out into laughter; not because I think what he said was funny, but because I am so bewildered and shocked by what was just said. Eventually, through the laughter tears I am able to get out, "Dude you shouldn't say that to a woman." He insists it was a joke and makes excuses, but I keep laughing, with my hand on the door handle just waiting for a good moment to step out. I repeat that what he said isn't cool, and eventually stop laughing long enough to say, "alright, on that note, I think I should head out." Being friendly, I still ask that he tell me when he gets home since I know he has a longer commute home than I do. I wave goodbye through our car windows.

The formalities are complete; he texts me ever so briefly the next day, respectfully I respond, knowing well I never plan on going out with him again. Then it seems we have a mutual ghosting situation, as I don't try to text him, nor he to me. This day I have another date, and after that one, I have no one that I want to communicate with as that is also a dud. All is good until a few days later when I am out with my friends in Ybor, drunk. I get a text from Timmy* saying "yo." I lament and groan and my friends ask about my reaction. I explain the situation and one of my guy friends asks for my phone. I hand it to him as he starts to text him on my behalf.

My phone is with my friend, but with my Apple Watch, I can see the text conversation and when he is responding. I start yelling "oh god please don't bring him here. I don't want to see this guy." Respecting my wishes, my friend decides to still fuck with him, but prevent this poor soul from spending money on an Uber and coming down.

My friends then send a selfie of themselves, with me not in it, saying "she's with me." I yell at them more saying, let this guy be, just ignore him. However, instead, my friend takes it a step further.

I tell my friend that he was too harsh and that I of course would have told him I wasn't interested, but a lot more mature and kindly. When later I check, understandably Timmy* has unmatched me on Hinge*, likely blocked my number. No loss there though.

[sinner-as-saint]

See You Again

Mob! Seb AU

Part 6. 

 Run-through: Promises are made, then get broken. Hearts unite, then are shattered mercilessly. We fall in love with certain people, then we lose them…

Themes: smut, GORE elements (blood and stuff), death, dark! Seb, violence and stuff. 

A/N: Hi babies, so this is quite a long fic; just… be prepared. Ily!

Also, the “^^^” symbol is used to show a shift in POV.

Also, there are some time skips in this one. I hope it doesn’t get too confusing.

Also, ALL TAG LISTS are still OPEN. 

For the first time in years, the mob boss was truly scared.

It was true, he had never thought that one day he would care about the well-being of someone so much that it would physically hurt him to imagine them in any sort of pain.

Sebastian looked over at you, your eyes were slowly roaming over the page of a book, curled up on a couch in his study, while Sebastian himself was trying to get some work done sitting at his desk; yet, he was too busy being enamored by you.

You were simply a couple of feet away, yet he thought you were too far. He liked being close to you, the touch of your skin on his calmed him down.

 After breakfast, Sebastian had received a call. You soon figured out that the caller was Liana and she said that she had people who were currently looking for Connor, and she also mentioned that she was coming over since she wanted to get Dylan to talk. And she strictly asked Sebastian to stay away from the latter because she knew how little patience the mob boss had.

The phone call between Liana and Sebastian was mostly them yelling profanities at each other, yet, Sebastian was relieved that Liana was taking care of certain things while he focused on keeping you safe. He mentioned something along the lines of never letting you out of his sight.

You thought it was just a figure of speech until you realized that he was dead serious about what he said. And that’s how he currently kept you captive in his study.

He had to deal with some paper work, and you were more than glad to share the space with him for a little while.

 “Thought you said you had work to do, did that involve staring at me like that?” you questioned the mob boss with a sly smile, and he chuckled, looking down at his lap and shook his head.

He was sitting at his desk, looking as gorgeous as ever, and you had to physically hold yourself back from making yourself comfortable on his lap. You were sure that he would not mind it though.

 “Come here,” he extended his arm and you immediately put the book down and rose from the couch, and walked in his direction.

You got closer to him sitting in his seat and once you were within arm’s reach, he pulled you into him. You ended up on his lap, legs on either side of him and straddling his thighs.

Your hands immediately cupped his face and you stared lovingly into his ocean eyes. The baby blue orbs staring back at you made you feel safe.

Sebastian’s hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer, looking up at your pretty face. He wished he could’ve stopped time, if he could, he would choose to live in this moment forever.

Your thumbs slowly caressed his cheeks and his eyes closed for a brief moment. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, opening his eyes again.

 He was beautiful. Devilishly handsome, yet you couldn’t help but notice that he lacked sleep. The skin around his beautiful eyes were darker now. The thought of him losing sleep over you did make you a little guilty, and you didn’t like that.

 “You need to sleep, Seb,” you spoke softly, smiling at how quickly his hands had slipped under your shirt. His cold palms pressed against your warm skin and he slowly ran his hands up and down your back.

 “I’m fine babe, don’t worry about me,” he replied and placed a soft kiss above your collar bone. His soft lips were gentle on your skin.

You internally laughed at the how there was a time when you were running away from him.

 You tilted his head up and placed a kiss on his forehead.

 “I have to. My family is, gone. All my friends are gone, they’ve settled in big cities, living their lives. I- I don’t have anyone else. You’re all I have. I have to worry about you,” your words hurt. They hurt both you and him. Yet, it was true.

Sebastian was all you had now, and his well-being meant a lot to you.

His hand moved from under your shirt and settled under your jaw, he stared at you for a few moments then kept his silence.

You believed that he was too tired to talk. But truth is, he was even more scared now.

 ^^^

 Sebastian looked up at the angelic girl who sat in his lap. Her eyes were sad, and he was certain that with each unpredictable turn her life took, her heart broke a little more each time.

If only you knew the lengths he was willing to go to keep you happy and safe.

You’re all I have . . .

You’re all I have.

 Your words repeated in his head, and he found himself at a loss of words. He didn’t know what to say to that.

He was helpless, Dylan was in his basement and he couldn’t even get the truth out of him. Luckily Liana was on her way, she had a means of getting stubborn assholes to speak up. Sebastian was too impatient; if he ran out of patience he would just empty his bullets into Dylan’s thick skull. And that would get him nowhere.

That’s why Sebastian was keeping his distance, and was focusing solely on keeping you safe. And happy.

His heart was filled with warmth when you told him that you were worried about him. Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time someone told him that.

 He was about to tell you how much he loved you but he noticed a frown on your face as you avoided his gaze. Not even a second later, you winced in pain and he almost lost his mind at the bare thought of you being in pain.

“Babe, you alright? What was that? Are you in pain?” he asked, straightening his back and ready to take whatever action was necessary to make you feel better.

 “I’m alright. Just random cramps I guess. Let’s take a nap, yeah? You need to rest, come on,” and not having the heart to turn his girl down, Sebastian followed you out of his study and into his bedroom for a well-deserved nap.

Everything was fine, in that moment.

 ^^^

 Something’s definitely wrong, you thought.

These random cramps and bleeding nose and mouth weren’t normal. But you were too scared to even tell Seb about it.

You tried to hide the frown on your face from Sebastian but it seemed as though he already understood that you were in pain.

 He stopped you right as you reached the bed.

 “Baby, look at me. Are you hurting? Are you having… girl problems?” he asked and something about the way he asked you the last question almost made you giggle.

He looked so clueless.

 “I’m okay, Seb. Now go on, take a nap. I’ll wake you up when Liana gets here,” you slightly pushed Sebastian’s body backwards but he caught your wrist just in time.

 “Cuddle with me, come on,” he pulled you into him as he threw his body onto the soft blankets. You landed right on top of him, giggling like a little kid.

Your pain was long forgotten as you stared into his eyes again.

 I love you.

You wanted to say, but before you could, Sebastian flipped you over and got the two of you under the covers.

 “Much better,” he mumbled as he adjusted your position so your back was pressed against his torso and his face nuzzled into your neck.

You chuckled again as you were trapped in his strong arms, legs tangled with his, body pressed against one another – you could see how this could be your everyday life.

You remember a time when you used to make fun of fairytales, and how princesses always foolishly believed that all their worries would be over if a strong man came into their lives; yet here you were, thanking God for the strong man in whose arms you were in.

At this point, imagining a life without Sebastian was near impossible.

 Even under the comfortable, soft covers, Sebastian wouldn’t stop moving.

 “Seb, seriously! You need to sleep, stop moving,” you scolded gently and he placed a trail of kisses along your neck as a reply.

His touch still felt like the first time; electric.

 Slowly, but steadily, his hands moved from around your waist and into your pants. He toyed with the waist band of your underwear for a little while, hovering his cold fingers over your hip bones, before his slid his hands further down your pants.

His touch was just as exciting as the first time he touched you. His lips left loving marks along your neck and you could only sigh in content of being in his arms.

It’s crazy how quickly you had grown accustomed to him.

 “Seb!” you tried to get him to stop fucking around and sleep for once, because you both knew that he needed it. Yet, you couldn’t say that you didn’t like his touch.

 “Shh, I just wanna touch you. Just let me,” he mumbled in his gravelly, tired voice. He sounded so adorable and pure as his hand settled right on top of your heat which only got wetter and wetter as whispered his profane thoughts in your ear.

You pushed your ass slightly more into him and within a few seconds, you could feel his hard on through his sweat pants. You smirked, and felt his fingers lightly graze your folds.

His touch, inevitably, sent shivers all over your body. And you found yourself getting more and more aroused with each passing moment.

Unexpectedly, you let out a moan and you could basically feel him smirking against your skin. He kept kissing and biting the skin at your neck and you allowed yourself to give in to him completely.

 “Seb . . .,” you whispered, feeling your wetness coating his fingers as he slowly rubbed around your throbbing clit.

 “Tell me you love me, baby,” he whispered, his voice deep and somewhat sleepy as he easily slipped his two fingers slowly into your tight entrance.

You parted your legs slightly, allowing him more room to toy with you.

You let out a ragged breath, and as you were gonna reply to him, his phone went off again.

 “I swear to God whoever that- Baby! Where-,” Sebastian stared at you in disbelief as you

 “It could be Liana,” as soon as you heard the phone, you moved away from Sebastian, jumped out of the bed and hurried to the phone, while Sebastian kept muttering under his breath about how he couldn’t believe you just left him in bed.

You answered the call on Sebastian’s phone and immediately heard Liana’s booming voice.

 “Tell your guard dogs to let me in Sebastian, you moron! I’ve worked with you for so long, and they still need identification? What the f-“

 “Liana, calm down! Seb’s on it, don’t worry,” you replied quickly and ended the call. Sebastian gave you an annoyed, yet adorable look.

You felt sorry for the man, but at that point, handling Connor and Dylan was much more important than sex.

   After you told Sebastian that Liana was here, he made a quick phone call to someone and reassured you that Liana knew what she had to do.

  “She must’ve been driving for hours Seb, shouldn’t we at least check up on h-,”

 Your words were cut short by the distant sound of a wail, and it sounded like someone was being tortured.

You soon realized that it was probably Liana ‘handling’ Dylan. And Seb was right, she knew what to do.

 “I just hope she doesn’t kill him before I get the chance to,” Sebastian spoke casually and you stared at him in disbelief.

 “Seb!”

 ---

  A couple of hours passed, at least that’s what it felt like until Sebastian told you that it’s only been 1 and a half since Liana got here.

You couldn’t wait, you wanted to know what other messed up plans Connor had in his sick mind.

You almost cried as you thought about how peaceful your relationship with him was before you found out that he wasn’t your dad.

He even promised to walk you down the aisle someday. And you promised that you would take care of him forever.

Crazy how so much can change in such little time.

  “Baby, stop pacing around. Liana k-,”

 “Liana knows what to do, yes, I’ve heard it at least 10 times in the past hour and a half, Seb. It’s just, finding out what Connor has done or is currently doing is scary to me. I once considered that man to be my dad. I thought he was my father…then came all these revelations. And now, it’s gotten even scarier because…,”

 Your voice trailed off as your eyes burned, and you realized that your tears were on the verge of spilling.

 Sebastian got up from where he sat on the bed, and took a few steps in your direction and stopped right in front of you.

You avoided his gaze as you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears if you looked into his ocean eyes even just for a brief moment.

 His arms circled around your waist and he pulled you closer, pressing your body against his. You could hear his patient, deep breaths and soon, his fingers curled under your chin and he lifted your face up.

 “Because what?” was all he asked.

You closed your eyes and smiled faintly through the tears.

You opened your eyes again and he had confusion written all over his gorgeous face.

 “Because I’m scared of losing you. You’ve become a habit, Seb, I’m used to you now. I love you, and I want more time with you. I- I’m scared, I don’t know… the blood, it just- I want more time with you, just please don’t let me go. I love you,” you were fully sobbing by the end of your barely coherent sentence.

You hugged him back and placed your head on his chest, squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your grip on him.

 Your body shook with each sob in Sebastian’s arms. The mob boss got even more confused than he was before.

You had nothing to be scared of, he thought. And what blood? What were you talking about?

 Your words made no sense to him.

 “It’s okay babe, I’ve got you. We’re gonna have plenty of time, just- what blood are you talking about? Baby, look at me,” he pulled away and cupped your face.

 Somehow, in last nearly 2 hours, a strange fear formed inside of you. All the bleeding and the shooting pain started to worry you now. And you were scared, a gut feeling was telling you that something bad was on its way. You could feel a heavy weight on your heart already.

You wanted more time with him, yet you were scared that you weren’t going to have it.

What if you were really sick?

 Sebastian waited for an answer. And you were ready to give him one.

You took a deep breath and started your explanation.

 “It’s nothing, I hope but a few days ago I-,”

 “SEBASTIAN!” a voice yelled, frantically; cutting you off in the process.

 Not even a second later, loud footsteps were heard and Sebastian immediately grabbed the closest gun and opened the bedroom door, making sure you were well hidden behind him.

 It took you a second to take in the scene. Liana was running upstairs and she kept yelling something which didn’t make any sense.

She soon reached the bedroom door and stopped just a couple of feet away from you and Seb.

 “Liana? What the f-,”

 “I need a car, now! Mine doesn’t have much fuel, hurry!” she sounded out of breath as she spat out her order.

Her eyes briefly met yours and they carried an emotion you couldn’t quite catch. Pity? Sympathy? You didn’t know what it was.

Liana looked like she was tormented. Her face was flushed, a gun in her hand, blood her knuckles and her hair was a true mess.

She was breathing heavily, perhaps due to the fact that she ran all the way here from the basement.

 “What? Did you talk to Dylan? What did-,”

 “Not now Sebastian! Please, just understand, we don’t have much time! I need a car, quick!” she barely explained the situation, yet as soon as the word ‘we’ left her mouth, both you and Sebastian realized that this must be urgent.

 “Here!” Sebastian chucked a set of keys in her hands out of nowhere and you stood there frozen to the ground. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as your brain found it hard to focus on it all.

Once Liana caught the keys, she yelled again.

 “CURTIS! UPSTAIRS, NOW!” her voice boomed and soon, another pair of heavier footsteps were heard marching upstairs.

 Sebastian stepped out of the room completely and looked at Liana in utter confusion, and this time, you did too.

What was happening? Who is Curtis?

 To answer your question just in time, an unknown man walked towards the three of you who stood outside Sebastian’s bedroom. He was slightly taller than Sebastian, a bit more built as well, and equally as intimidating.

He had muscular arms, skin head and an eye brow piercing over his left eye. His face was expressionless, yet he seemed like the type who would act upon every order given to him. He didn’t look much different than the other men who ‘worked’ for Sebastian.

 “Keys, there you go. Now, drive to David’s house and I don’t care if you have to drag him all the way, but bring him here as soon as possible, okay?” Liana placed the keys in the palm of his hands and Curtis simply nodded before making his way downstairs again, he jogged until he was completely out of your sight.

Weird, he didn’t even question anything.

 Who is David? Your thoughts were a mess, similar to the situation.

 Sebastian was just as confused as you were, yet the name ‘David’ seemed to have surprised him more than anything.

 “Why David? What is happening, Lia-,”

“Who’s David? What is happening, Li-,”

 You both started asking at the same time.

 “Shh! Let me do the talking, yeah? I- let’s sit down for this,” Liana suggested and you and Sebastian shared a brief look before stepping out of the doorway so that Liana could walk in.

You took a seat on the edge of the bed, while Sebastian stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked annoyed, worried and scared at the same time.

Liana was the one who was pacing now, she ran her shaky, blood-stained fingers through her already messy, auburn hair countless times and finally spoke up.

 “Right, before we start, let me be clear that I want no questions, got it?” her voice sounded like she was hesitant, yet she had something urgent to share.

Once the two of you nodded at her, she continued.

 “So, after many, many slaps, and punches and cuts; the son of a bitch talked. And, I mean, I guess we underestimated Connor,” she spoke as if she was fighting back anger – doing her best to calm herself down.

 Sebastian eyes narrowed at Liana and yours widened in shock.

Underestimated? What’s that supposed to mean?

 “Okay, Sebastian, there’s no need to go all crazy and shoot me, I know I fucked up and I should’ve been more careful with Connor. David’s on his way here and-,”

 “Liana, stop! Just tell me what the fuck happened down there,” Sebastian’s voice was so calm and collected that it scared you. And you didn’t dare to look up at him, so you kept your eyes focused on Liana’s black boots.

And you knew that Liana had the chills as well, just from Sebastian’s tone. He sounded like he was livid; yet was able to conceal it perfectly. He sounded lethal.

 “I-, uh… he said that-,” Liana took a deep breath before continuing her sentence.

“Connor has been slow poisoning Y/N, for God knows how long. I don’t- and he’s on the run and we don’t even know what poison he used or how it works. That’s why I asked for David, because none of us here know how to handle this. It might- it is dangerous.” She finished her sentence and for the next couple of seconds, the room was filled with heavy silence.

 You sat on the bed, unable to form proper thoughts as the realization hit you like a train going at break neck speed.

Slow poisoning… that would explain the blood and the pain.

But why?

Why kill you?

 Liana quickly explained that David was the ‘gang Doctor’. Apparently he was really experienced and due some fake charge pressed on him early on in his career, he was fired from where he worked. Then, one day Seb found him, and ever since; he’s their trustee doctor.

 Sebastian was silent, and Liana was silently praying that Sebastian does not kill her right there where she stood.

 “Is that what you meant, Y/N? By the blood, was that what you meant?” Sebastian asked and you gathered the courage to look up at him.

 “I-,”

 “What blood? Were those signs of poisoning? Y/N, why didn’t you say anything? I-, I guess it’s my fault. FUCK! It’s all my fault, I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve known better than to let him cook for you and feed you every single day, God damn it Connor!” Liana plopped down on the floor with her hair in her fists in defeat.

She was scared as well; scared of Sebastian obviously, but also scared for your health.

 “Seb, I’m sorry… I’m- I got scared. I didn’t know.” You cried again, the tears came back uninvited and flowed freely down your cheeks.

 Sebastian looked down at your broken frame and kept quiet. Was he feeling equally as guilty as Liana for not being able to shelter you from Connor’s monstrosity? Definitely.

 “I need to handle Dylan, I gotta g-,”

 “Finish him. Wrap him up, and send him to his father’s house. He’ll get the message, and hopefully he’ll come out of wherever he is hiding. At least that’s better than just waiting.” Sebastian orders shocked both you and Liana.

 Sebastian’s face was vacant; empty eyes, even his voice didn’t carry any emotion. He was devoid – free from any signs of anger, or rage. He was like a time bomb, silent but deadly when the time will come. And the time was here. His patience reached its limits.

The mob boss ordered to kill, yet Liana hesitated.

 “W-what?” she asked, puzzled. Yet, she wouldn’t say that she didn’t expect a reaction similar to this one.

 “You heard me, don’t act like you haven’t done it before. Go on now, and… handle him,” he spoke and opened the bedroom door, ushering Liana out of the room.

 Liana nodded, picked up her gun and walked out of the room as quickly as she could. Once she left, Sebastian shut the door with a slam which made you jump a little.

 “You never answered me, Y/N. Was that what you were referring to earlier?” his tone reminded you of that one time he suddenly appeared in your room, back at Connor’s house. The night you ran from him for the second time.

The tone carrying his words was cold, dominant and almost insensitive. Yet, you knew that he was hiding his anger and worry, and probably defeat behind the icy façade.

 “I got scared, and you were already being so over-, well, you were being very careful. Seb, I thought it was nothing at a-,”

 Your flow of words came to a stop once Sebastian walked up to you, stopped right in front of you and dropped to his knees with a thud.

He dropped to the floor with the same defeat in his eyes like Liana did. Your heart swelled at the fact that these two were going through so much for you. They really did care.

You finally looked into the blue orbs of the kneeling man in front of you. With you sitting on the edge of the bed, he was at eye level and you didn’t miss the glossiness forming in his ocean eyes.

 “Do you have any idea of how much you mean to me? Do you know that I’ll lose my mind if anything happens to you? You were sick, you’ve been sick. Why didn’t you tell me anything?” he asked, and your heart broke at the sight of the one single tear which fell from his eyes, down his cheeks.

 “I’m sorry, I was scared and confused…I- I didn’t know he would- I guess I didn’t expect that there would come a day when, he, would try to kill me,” you finally said it.

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly. He opened them again and inched closer to you. He placed his hands on both your thighs and rubbed them affectionately.

You extended your arm and wiped away his single, fallen tear.

 “I told you I would keep you safe. I promised you that, and I couldn’t keep you safe. He got to you, didn’t he? I’m sorry I failed you, baby. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head.

His voice cracked and that’s when you noticed how hard he was trying to keep it together.

 “No you didn’t. I’m okay, Seb. You got me out just in time, see? I’m here, I’m-,” your words halted as you felt a burning sensation in your throat. It felt as though you swallowed acid, it burned. It hurt.

You stood up abruptly and tried taking deep breaths. Sebastian stood up as well, and his teary eyes were now worried sick.

 “Babe?” he called out, holding your elbow gently.

You wanted to reply, you wanted to tell him you were okay. But once you opened your mouth, you started coughing hysterically.

You placed your palm against your mouth as you tried your best to control it, but you couldn’t. The cough wasn’t as bad as the other time, except this time, you tasted even more blood in your mouth.

The disgusting, warm metallic taste was back again. Without any second thought, you ran into the bathroom. Sebastian followed you without any question.

 You spat out the blood, and opened the tap immediately – hoping to get it out of your sight as soon as possible.

You washed your hands and noticed a figure behind you in the mirror. It was Sebastian with a blank face again.

His looked like he was either on the verge of crying, or killing something or someone rather. He noticed the trail of blood flowing down your chin. You quickly wiped it off but he caught the sight of it nonetheless.

 “You’re not okay,” he spoke and it sounded less of a question, and more like an insult to himself. He believed he had failed the one person who meant a lot to him. And it hurt, it hurt his ego, his pride; most importantly, it hurt his heart.

  “I will be okay. The doctor is on his way, right? Don’t worry,” you were weirdly confident that whoever this David was, he was gonna make you fine again.

If Sebastian trusted him, then he must really be good at what he did.

 Right?

  ---

  It had been 2 days since David examined your case. And he indeed diagnosed that it was a poisoning; most probably through food.

David was nice, you liked the doctor a lot. He was patient, and a good listener. He was in his late forties, and he had a way with his humor and words.

He had given you pills and other medication which should flush out the toxins that were currently in your system.

Sebastian was relieved when David mentioned that it was indeed serious, but it wasn’t fatal. You would be fine if you took better care of your health.

 In the past 2 days, Sebastian barely left your side for long.

 You were starting to feel better, actually. You didn’t cough up blood, nor did you bleed abnormally. You thanked David.

You were still on the edge though.

Sebastian had asked Liana to…handle Dylan and sent his back to his father – whatever that meant. And ever since, you hadn’t seen Liana.

 “Is Liana coming back anytime soon?” you asked one day, while Sebastian was replying to someone called Chris.

You figured that this Chris was some guy who could basically find anyone and anything on this Earth in just a couple of hours. And Sebastian has been obsessively looking for Connor.

Sebastian stopped typing for a second, looked up from his phone and nodded, then got back to texting.

“Sure, she will. She’s out with the guys, looking for that asshole. Don’t worry, hey did you take your meds?” he asked for the third time that morning.

  ---

  The next day, Liana came back – with no news of Connor’s whereabouts. And to say that Sebastian was pissed would be an understatement.

 They were arguing and you heard part of it.

 “You were the one who fucking started this! Why did you make me send Dylan back home… like that? You know damn well Connor will strike back, and when he-,” Liana’s voice boomed.

 “And when he does, I’ll kill him where he stands! No one messes with the one I love Liana, you know that. I’ll be ready when he decides to-,”

 “Funny you say that, you weren’t even able to keep your girlfriend safe! You-,” Liana tried arguing again.

 “Last time I checked, you were responsible for her safety – as her fucking friend! Yet, he poisoned her right in front of your eyes, bi-,”

  “Enough! Both of you, shut up!” you had to intervene because they were taking it too far.

 They both had guilt written all over their faces; like little children when being scolded by their parent.

 “None of what happened is your fault! Seb, you did the best you could and Liana, I would never be here without you. I care deeply for both of you, so for my fucking sake, just stop acting like kids! I’m not dead, I’m fine and blaming each other will not help any of us. Just stop!” you spoke in a higher tone than usual.

And it helped in shutting the two of them up.

  You didn’t wait for any response or apology, you just made your way upstairs – quite moodily. Then again, it was probably the side effects of David’s prescribed medication.

 You opened the bedroom you currently shared with the mob boss and rushed inside; all while hearing very faint, slow footsteps behind you.

You knew it was either Sebastian or Liana coming up to apologize for their banter and behavior.

 You still slammed the door shut, and paced around the room – dramatically; moodily like a Gemini teen who just argued with their parents.

 Seconds later, the door opened and in walked the man you loved so much. Sebastian.

 “Hey baby,” he cooed, pretending as though he wasn’t just blaming your only friend for your poisoning.

 “Don’t,” you simply said.

You weren’t angry at him, per say, you were just angry at the situation in general. Your fake father tried to kill you, his son who was in your boyfriend’s captivity is probably dead, you have no idea where your fake father is – knowing him he’s probably out there plotting your murder for God’s sake. And just when you needed the slightest bit of stability; the two people who are now the closest you got, are playing the blame game.

 Sebastian noticed your bad mood easily – anyone could to be honest. He approached you slowly. Once he stood in front of you, you immediately crossed your arms over your chest; as if preventing him from getting any closer – a useless barrier.

 His hand reached out and touched your cheek lovingly. His bare touch ignited a fire in you.

Sebastian grabbed your waist and pressed you against him; your lower abdomen touching his. The fire grew even more.

He nuzzled his face into your neck; knowing how much you liked it. He ran the shiny, cold tip of his nose up and down your throat slowly, agonizingly.

 “You smell really good. I bet you taste even better,” he whispered in your ear – sinfully. The fire burned brighter.

 And that’s when it all made sense. You weren’t mad, you were frustrated. Sexually. All because while you were sick and recovering from Connor’s strike, Sebastian was busy worrying about your health. And you were almost always drugged due to the amount of medicine you had to take – due to that, it had been days since he last touched you.

And you were craving his touch, his attention – him. And you could tell he missed you too, so you dropped the angry façade and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulder.

The fire took over and you melted in his hands.

 “Seb . . .,” you involuntarily moaned when his hand slipped under your shirt and palmed your breast. Your eyes closed in delight; relishing his touch.

To him, it sounded more like a plea when you whispered his name. And he knew just what his girl needed. Him.

 “I know baby, I know. Let me take care of you, alright?” he whispered against your jaw.

His tongue slipped out and licked a stripe from your jaw all the way till your most sensitive spot, beneath your ear.

You let out a shaky breath as he slowly guided the two of you till the edge of the bed. Meanwhile, his lips found yours and his tongue now slipped into your mouth; forgetting any boundaries – he shamelessly invaded your mouth and kissed you feverishly.

Like he was trying to remember what you tasted like. Like as if you were gonna fade away into nothing if he didn’t hold on to you.

 You moaned into his kiss. His hands roamed your body, eagerly.

By the time you reached the bed, your top was off – leaving you in leggings only. And his shirt was off to, leaving him bare and mouthwatering.

 “I fucking missed you, you know that?” he whispered almost sinisterly as he threw you onto the bed.

You fell on your back and supported yourself up with your elbows to get a better look at your man. He looked heavenly from down here, and he knew it because he had a cocky smile on his gorgeous face. Eyes darkened, breathing heavily – he looked hungry. Starved even.

And so were you.

 “I missed you too. A lot,” you replied.

You couldn’t stop yourself from touching him, so you sat up and rapidly undid his pants and pulled it down, along with his black briefs, until they bunched up around his knees.

His proud member sprang free and you immediately took him into your mouth. His hand lazily guided your head up and down his length. Hollowing your cheeks, your mouth pumped him relentlessly.

His grunts and groans caused you to bob your head even faster on him. You couldn’t fit him completely into your mouth, so your hand took care of what your skilled mouth couldn’t.

 “Fuck . . . Y/N- shit, baby I-,” he came without any warning.

Hot and smooth, his seed ran down your throat. You swallowed all of him obediently and he smiled down at you as you licked him clean.

Once you released him, he pushed you back down on the bed and climbed on top of you – body hovering above yours.

 His face was centimeters away from yours, eyes looking into yours; you felt the flow of energy connecting you and him in ways you couldn’t explain.

 Your hand reached out and touched his cheeks, which was coated with a very thin layer of sweat already.

 “You’re mine, right?” you asked out of nowhere.

For a brief moment, an unfamiliar emotion flashed on his face. Heartache?

 Instead of replying, he pushed you higher up on the bed; creating more room. He pulled down your grey leggings and threw them on the floor.

He smirked when he saw that you were wet already. You wore no underwear, which only excited him more.

 His skilled fingers toyed with your sensitive bundle of nerves as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck yet again, he kissed the shell of your ear and you felt like you were on the verge of losing your mind.

You moaned out load as he slipped two fingers into your tight entrance with ease. Given that you hadn’t been touched in days, you were much more responsive than usual. And he bloody loved every second of it.

He dragged moan after moan out of you, just by using his fingers.

His tongue followed shortly after. It traced the outlined of your folds, slipping in and out of them with much ease before finally burying itself into your tight hole.

The lower half of Sebastian’s face was immersed into your glistening heat. Your arousal drenched his face, the excess of it dripping down his chin – the whole of it was messily immoral. Yet, none of you cared.

 He removed his fingers and his face from your heat and kissed his way up your body till he reached your mouth.

You tasted your wetness on his plump, pink lips and the thought of having a man of his caliber connecting to you so intimately only caused the lust in your veins to course faster.

 He didn’t waste any time as he aligned his erected cock with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his member as he stroked it slowly and dragged it up and down your wet folds.

You moaned at the bare friction. Your hands spread out and gripped two handfuls of the blanket on either side of your connected frames.

 “I’m all yours. Doubtlessly yours, and don’t you ever question that. I love you so much,” he whispered in a hushed tone as he pushed himself into you inch by inch; allowing you to feel him – all of him.

Every vein, every inch of his skin; you felt it all.

 And soon, his body owned yours.

 Sebastian made love to you that night; relentlessly, repeatedly – until both your bodies couldn’t handle the pleasure and the sweet pain anymore.

You don’t remember falling asleep that night, neither did he. All you know is that as long as you were in his arms, everything was good in the world.

Nothing would hurt you as long as you were with him.

 Right?

  ---

  Day six post David’s visit, and things were getting back to normal. Except Connor was nowhere to be found. And Sebastian was slowly losing his mind.

His best friend, Chris visited often. Quite frequently actually.

He was funny, you liked him.

 You were feeling better. No vomiting, no nose bleeds, no sudden hysterical coughing. You were fine. Content.

Due to the fact that your health was almost perfect now, Sebastian was able to leave you home; protected by his guards and Liana of course, to attend meetings – and do his ‘mob boss’ stuff.

 And today was just the same. Sebastian was out, along with Chris.

David came to check up on you this morning, and left saying that you were nearly perfectly fine now. He did advise you to finish the meds, even if you were feeling better.

Right now, Liana was keeping you company while you made lunch for the two of you. Liana sucked at cooking, and you knew that, so you offered to make lunch.

 “Hey, I never asked. What happened to the pub now that you and I are here?” you asked, cutting up ham and placing it next to the cheese.

Liana replied through a mouthful of crisps from the kitchen island behind you.

 “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention it. Your boyfriend bought it, so it’s not functioning right now. It’s currently closed,” Liana replied, nonchalantly; stuffing her face with more of the barbecue flavored snack.

 He bought it?

 “Seb bought it? Why? He lives so far from it, what would he do with that little pub?” you asked, partially not surprised because, well, the person in question was the most unpredictable man you had ever met so… yeah.

 “See, knowing him, he’ll probably turn it into a Y/N shrine, or maybe given that he’s a romantic nowadays, he may use it to prop- oh hey Sebastian, hey annoying a-hole. Care to tell me why are you still around?” Liana stopped midway through her sentence to greet Sebastian who walked in the kitchen at the right, or wrong, time.

She then proceeded to drag Chris out of the kitchen, probably to insult him some more. Leaving you two behind was not such a good idea given that recently, Sebastian has been way too needy. And very, very clingy. You weren’t complaining though.

 “Hi babe, how was your day?” he asked, hugging you.

You hugged him back, rubbing you hand up and down his back; feeling his tensed muscles through his dark suit.

 “Pretty good, you know, all I did was eat, sit on the couch, watched TV, ate some more then I tried reading a book, but got bored so I was making food, again, for Liana and I before you walked in. Chill day, I’d say,” you narrated your day to him.

He chuckled.

 His arms wrapped around your waist as you turned around to finish making your sandwiches. He placed his chin on your shoulder as he hugged you from behind.

 “I know you’re bored, baby. But I cannot risk your safety, not again. Not with what happened r-,”

 “But it’s been a week, Seb! I can’t hide in your house forever. I know we can’t find Connor, and I know it’s disturbing you, but I can’t not live my life because of one man. Maybe he just- I don’t know, after whatever you did to Dylan. Maybe h-,”

 “Men like him don’t give up baby. No one gives up that easily in this life, it’s a ruthless game remember? Now, let’s j-,”

 “SEBASTIAN!” you heard a voice yell. After the shout, a few rounds of gunshots were heard.

The sounds indicated that the firing was not happening far from where you were; perhaps it was in the backyard. The gunshots got louder, deafeningly loud, and nothing like in the movies. For a brief moment, it felt as though the entire house was shaking.

Your vision got blurry, for a millisecond.

Among the gunshots, you could hear Liana swearing. And for a brief second, you thought you heard her yell Connor’s name.

But maybe you were just paranoid.

The air felt thicker, and it got harder to breathe for a few seconds while your brain tried to register what was happening around you.

Your heartbeat got louder. And louder.

 Sebastian held you close to him, clutching your body tightly against his chest.

 “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I got you,” he pulled out his own gun and aimed it at the kitchen door frame; just in case someone were walk in at any given moment. Your shaky arms wrapped around his torso and you, for once, managed to successfully fight back the tears.

 Within the next minute, everything was silent.

No gunshots, no shouts, no footsteps.

You were worried about Liana, and Chris. You didn’t know him very well, but you knew he was close to Sebastian. And he had been nothing but polite towards you. The thought of either of them being hurt was disturbing.

A couple of minutes later, you were still recovering from the sudden shock. Sebastian apologized and whispered comforting words in your ear.

 “Y/N!” you heard Liana yell, then her rapid footsteps got closer and finally she appeared in the kitchen again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you okay?” she asked, following her Chris walked in the kitchen; his semi-automatic silver gun still in his hand.

 “What the fuck was that?” Sebastian asked, breathing heavily and still holding you close to his chest. Frankly, you didn’t want to let go in the first place.

There was unpredictable danger at every step, and you weren’t sure you’d make it without him. So you held on to him, and he to you.

 “Connor’s people were here. Seems like they followed you and Chris on your way back, one of them broke in. Our guys are going through the top floors, I don’t think they took anything though. Maybe they came looking for… Y/N. Good thing you were here with her. We’re good,” Liana explained.

The look of defeat made a come-back on her face, she looked tired now. Not angry, like she usually would be at a situation like this. Just tired.

Truth is, you were all tired.

 “I’ll have my guys check the security footage, I know we’ll find something,” Chris announced and made his way out of the kitchen.

 Sebastian was quiet. Liana left the two of you alone without another word said. And you could no longer hold back the tears.

You were scared, but these were tears of weariness.

 Sebastian didn’t say anything. He just held you as your body shook in his embrace with each sob.

  ---

  Couple of days after the break in, things were gradually going back to normal. Sebastian was always on the edge though.

Chris was around a lot more; he was frustrated because he couldn’t track Connor down. Liana was, well, a bit more grumpy than usual.

The conversation of ‘How does Connor get in right in front of our eyes?’ happened a lot these days. You didn’t participate, but you heard the arguments.

You refrained yourself from saying anything, because truly, you didn’t know what to say.

You had known Connor for years; that man taught you perseverance. He shaped your fighting spirit. If there’s anything you know about him, it’s that he won’t give up. Not now.

Not when he had already gone to such extremities.

  The guys who worked for Sebastian reassured him that they checked each and every part of the house; nothing had changed. Nor stolen, nor replaced.

Yet, you weren’t very convinced.

You started noticing slight changes. Ones you couldn’t tell anyone about because they were already stressed out enough.

 David’s medication, which you were still under, started leaving strange, bitter aftertastes in your mouth. You were supposed to be menstruating, but the flow was abnormal, and even ceased after a few hours. You wanted to talk to Liana about it, or David, but for some reasons; you blamed it all on the poisoning and the heavy medication.

 You started getting more and more lightheaded randomly during the day. You were losing your appetite little by little. Even your favorite dessert was making you nauseous now.

Your body hurt. Your ribs, joints, everything hurt on most days. And you had to walk around trying to hide your sharp intake of breath, and winces.

You even had to turn Sebastian down one night. And being the gentleman he is, he understood.

You were on the edge as well. You weren’t in pain, yet the cramps found their way back to you. They weren’t constant, but they were intense enough to wake you up at night; once or twice – you were thankful that Sebastian didn’t notice.

Your healthy was deteriorating, you knew.

At first, you thought all these were side effects of the medication. But you were soon proven wrong.

 ---

 One morning, while a not so healthy you, Sebastian, a sleep deprived Chris and a grumpy Liana were having breakfast, Sebastian’s phone rang.

He picked it up without even checking who the caller was, and before he could even moodily greet the caller, his body tensed.

He sat up straight on the stool and put the phone on loud.

 “… Stan, how’s life? How is my niece doing? You taking good care of her?” Connor’s voice spoke through the phone and all the colour from all your faces drained.

You could physically feel your fingertips getting colder. Icy even.

Sebastian didn’t reply immediately. Liana’s eyes were shooting death glares at the silver phone and Chris was just muttering curses under his breath; taking his phone out as well and typing furiously.

 “Don’t you dare, she’s no one to a monster like you, you old fuck. By the way, how’d you like the gift? Was it properly wrapped? Sorry, we couldn’t find the right bow,” Liana spat at him.

 He chuckled, sinisterly.

 You looked over at Sebastian, and he was just staring at the phone. No emotion, nothing.

 “I know you can hear me, Peanut. How are you? Good? Are you taking your meds like a good girl?” his question made everyone turned their heads towards you.

The nickname he used brought back so many memories of you and him. The road trips you had. The dad/daughter dates. Your argument with him over your first, ‘good-for-nothing’, boyfriend. Him always calling you to check up on you whenever you slept over at a friend’s house.

No matter what, angry or not, he would always call you ‘Peanut’.

The nickname taunted you, mocked you; like a machete sinking into your chest.

 Sebastian saw you struggling.

 “What the fuck do you want?” he asked, his anger clearly audible and visible on his face. Jaw clenched, eyes filled with a void – the mob boss was furious.

 “Oh not much, just to see the rare look of failure on your face when you realize that, despite I failed the first time, your girlfriend has been accidentally poisoning herself for the past couple of days. It was rather easy, having someone break in, and replace her medication with a bunch of harmful pills. Hey Peanut, how’s the nausea and the pain? Oh, feel free to take a painkiller that the stupid doctor gave you, it’s really gonna help,” his words left you breathless.

 “You are so gullible, Y/N. Is that what I taught you? You didn’t even bother checking if you were taking the right pills, or something which is slowly killing you right at this moment. It’s been more than 48 hours, Y/N, your body should be shutting down at any given moment.”

 His words had every one jump to their feet. Liana grabbed her own phone and immediately called David. Chris swore out loud and rushed out of the kitchen.

Sebastian looked… broken. Utterly broken.

 For the first time in days, you weren’t crying. You were just scared.

As soon as Connor stopped talking, your felt your chest hurt and a burning sensation invaded your throat. You were never one who was scared of dying. You believed it was natural, inevitable and one thing no one can fight.

Yet here you were, scared.

Scared of forgetting, scared of leaving Sebastian alone, scared of leaving Liana.

 “Has she collapsed yet? Why isn’t anyone talking? Hello?” Connor kept mocking through the phone, and like a ghost, uninvited, he was tormenting you. All of you.

 Sebastian reached out and touched your face.

 “Are you okay?” he asked, knowing perfectly well that you weren’t.

You started feeling lightheaded again, and you tried replying to him, but the lump in your throat got in the way of doing that.

You grabbed the counter, steadying yourself. Sebastian rushed to your side. He caged your frame in his arms and studied your face.

 You felt weak.

 “Of course she’s not okay, come on now! Hurry, rush her to the hospital! Although I should tell you that she might die on the way there if y-,”

 “SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Sebastian yelled, and you winced at his tone.

 It seemed as though you were hearing his voice louder than it actually was. The room had started spinning slightly.

Liana’s screaming voice became distant. Everything seemed distorted. And you were very, very scared.

 In your haze, you heard Connor laugh again through the phone. Sebastian held on to you desperately. For the first time, he didn’t know what to do.

 “I know you’ll find me, Sebastian. And I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you do. How does it feel, watching someone you care so deeply about dying in front of you? And you’re not able to save them?” Connor asked.

Sebastian didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

The thought of you not being with him was pure torture.

 He glanced at you and it seemed like you were in pain, and were having trouble breathing.

 “Y/N? Y/N! Hold on, I called an ambulance, they’re on their way. Just please, hold on,” Liana rushed to your side.

After her, you could hear Connor chuckle again.

Why wasn’t anyone ending the call already?

 Your thoughts got messy from there on. You remember hugging Sebastian as tightly as you could. You remember Liana holding you up and for the first time, you saw tears in her eyes.

Your body was giving up, it couldn’t hold you up anymore.

 “See you soon, Sebastian. You know where to find me, right where you left my son’s dead body,” Connor’s voice spoke before he apparently ended the call.

 Somewhere, you heard Chris speaking. And the one word you caught was “here”.

 You don’t remember much, just that it felt like you were falling asleep, fast.

You simply remember telling Sebastian you loved him.

 “I wanted more time with you,” was the last thing you whispered to Sebastian before giving in to the tempting slumber which took over in no time.

Light. Weightless. Darkness.

Nothing more.

  ^^^

    Sebastian watched helplessly as they strapped you to the stretcher, and his heart broke each time he looked at your face. Your eyes were closed, the spark in them couldn’t be seen. Your face was blank, your smile was gone.

You were… going away. And there was nothing he could do.

He still couldn’t figure out what to do.

He saw Liana running around, yelling stuff at Chris, yet none of what she said registered in his brain. Everything happened in slow motion.

  The next thing he knew is that he was pushed into the passenger seat of a car, with Chris in the driver’s seat.

 “Where’s Liana?” was all he was able to ask. His face was emotionless, he couldn’t even cry. All he could feel was the void in his chest. A heavy, empty weight right where he believed his heart was.

He didn’t know why he didn’t ask where you were instead. Perhaps, he knew. Or maybe he didn’t want to be reminded that you were critical.

 “She’s with Y/N. Don’t worry, man, you got this. She’ll be okay, don’t worry,” Chris wasn’t confident in what he said.

 The drive to the hospital was a blur, all Sebastian could focus on was the white van, with a siren which drove in front of them.

The sound of the siren hurt him. And he knew that the sound would probably haunt him forever.

Forever… he hoped he would spend it with you. He wanted to. But fate was acting against his will.

  Sebastian didn’t know how he ended up on the top floor of the hospital. All he knew was the Chris was there, and Liana too. She was on the phone with someone, and she was crying.

Why was she crying?

 He saw a man walked out of one of the room with ‘Intensive Care Unit’ written above it in dark red, like a warning sign.

The unknown man was wearing a white coat and he was talking to Chris and Liana, who cried even more with each word he said.

Sebastian was barely 3 feet away from the doctor, yet he couldn’t hear a thing he said.

He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ear. Perhaps that was what prevented him from hearing a word the doctor said.

The doctor looked at him, patted him on the shoulder and turned around and walked away. He watched as the doctor walked back into the room, as for a brief second, as the door opened to allow the doctor in; Sebastian saw you.

Unconscious, and connected to countless monitors and machines. He heard the faint beep of one of the monitors, which signaled that your heart was still beating. You were still here.

The image of you; unmoving and connected to machines, and tubes and needles poking your skin, hurt him. He couldn’t bare the sight of you in pain. A part of him was relieved that you weren’t gone.

But why was Liana crying?

 The doctor walked into the room and shut the door behind him. The white door closed on Sebastian’s face, concealing you from him.

The spotless, white door mocked his loss.

He was shaking; anger, sadness, the involuntary sobs which escaped his mouth.

The mob boss didn’t realize that he had been crying until Liana appeared in front of him, blocking his view of the door.  

Sebastian’s vision got blurry.

 The tears fell, hot and harsh on his skin.

 Liana circled her arms around his torso, and once she did so, Sebastian’s head instinctively dropped to her shoulder. He could hear her sniffling, and he did the same – unable to stop the tears. Chris’ hand was firmly pressing against his shoulder blade, a caring but insufficient gesture to calm him down.

Sebastian cried. He was broken. And he hadn’t even heard what happened to you. All he knew, by studying Liana and Chris’ behavior, was that you weren’t waking up any time soon.

 Sebastian couldn’t tell when the last time he cried like this was. Certainly not at his father’s funeral, neither his mother’s. Yet, here he was, crying at the thought of losing you.

 He prayed. He prayed to God as his tears never ceased. He prayed for your life, your health. For you.

He knew he did bad things in his life. Hell, he did terrible things. He just hoped that this wasn’t God’s way of making him pay for his sins.

He couldn’t lose you. Not now, not when he knew that you were his everything. Oh he would make Connor pay for what he did. He knew that for sure. Yet, Connor was the last thing on his mind as he held on to his hope. 

He hoped, as his heart ached, he hoped for you to get better. He hoped that you’d wake up someday soon and smile up at him, and ask him to take you home. He hoped that he would be hug you again, kiss you, and love you again. He hoped that you would wake up and tell him that everything was going to be fine. Hoped to get a chance to spend this lifetime by your side.  

He hoped with all his heart.

Lively. Vibrant. Beautiful. He hoped to see you again.

 He would.

 Wouldn’t he?

-

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[animemeg27]

I feel like I complain a lot about work on twitter so I’ma rant here for a change so I’m not so negative in one space, but honestly depending on how my work’s new owners deal with this situation, I’m genuinely considering looking for a new job next month..

I was just on the phone with one of the new owners and I actually broke down crying a bit...

lemme explain the situation

It’s a friday, it’s lunch time, it’s hot out, that morning a fight broke out between dogs because dog A wants to fence fight with dog B whenever he walks by, dog B is chill but will defend himself so he fence fights back. Dog C is in the same yard as Dog A and because dog A is reacting aggressively, dog C wants to join in and the only dog he can get to is dog A. All 3 dogs are of large strong breeds so obviously sometimes they can be a handful if they get out of control. Asshole coworker is in the yard with the fighting dogs and luckily had them on leash so he had them both at arms length and dragged them away from the fence. Doggy Day Kamp manager in my yard with dog B goes over to Asshole’s yard to help keep them two apart as the Asshole’s hand got bit and is bleeding. The dogs are never put away, but are kept on leash until they’re calm enough the Asshole finally goes to wash his hand. The Manager keeps the leash on the instigator, dog A, and soon the dogs in that yard are moved away into the backyard so they don’t see dog B and start another fight.

I personally don’t know why the hell dogs A and B were in yards next to each other when I’m pretty sure it was established awhile ago that dog A hates dog B. But the Asshole has a superiority/dog trainer complex when he is neither of those things so I wouldn’t put it past him if it was his idea.

Couple hours later Assistant manager comes in for her shift and hears about the fight. She tells the Asshole “hey next time put the dogs away when they fight so they can calm down” cuz ya know, that’s standard protocol. It’s dangerous to have em still out because the aggressive energy can build up again with other reactive dogs still in the yard that could still be anxious from the fight that just happened. A fight broke out literally a week prior and SHE had her hand bitten and that same dog C was involved and he was put away. That time all dogs were going after one in the yard and many of the dogs were ok in doing so because dog C was in on it and riling everyone up. Ya know what the asshole says? “that’s not gonna do anything they’re not children putting them in time out won’t teach them anything” completely ignoring her who’s been here at least as long as I have aka 7 years while he’s hardly been here more than half a year. Like um they ain’t human either they’re dogs aka animals so they can be kind of unpredictable when they are in such a reactive state. The assistant manager is just as sick of him as I am and scoffs but doesn’t have the energy to argue. The asshole had really been pissing her off lately by kind of bossing her around out of nowhere when the manager had been on vacation earlier in the month.

few hours later it’s lunch time, and this is where shit goes down... kinda literally. Asshole leaves for lunch. Or so I thought. We were in the same yard and he left through one of the side pens, but he found a missed pile of dog poop in there so he decides to pick it up himself. Ok whatever. He leaves the gate open a bit and a little dog slips through. he picks him up and puts him back in the main yard, I come over and close the gate over so he can hurry and pick up the poop and head to lunch. He tells me to leave it open because the dogs won’t learn anything if I close it. like dude it’s just poop, so I kept the gate shut. granted I didn’t say anything, but my logic was who the hell wants to spend and extra 5-10 minutes dealing with dogs trying to slip through a gate depending on which dogs come over just to pick up poop instead of wanting to head to lunch as soon as possible. So he says something along the lines of “what is wrong with you” or “what is your problem” to which I simply responded with “Just go to lunch, I’ll take care of it.” My patience with him was thin already but at this point it was just gone. This asshole is so obsessed with teaching dogs in general but also not to slip through gates that he always get so angry, or at least really annoyed and pissed off at me whenever I try to help holding dogs back, like I was taught to do, especially ones that are more difficult - ones that are strong or speedy and don’t sit still and take every opportunity to slip through the gate. like it’s understandable to try and teach them, but it can be a long process, especially with the more difficult ones. No one really has time for that when we’re busy or need to be someplace. In the end he just picked up the poop while I had the gate shut. When he left for lunch for real he said “I’d suggest you don’t get on my bad side” to which all I had to say to him was “really?????” like he hadn’t been on my bad side for at least the past 6 months. I can’t remember if he mumbled something under his breath but my last words to him as he left were “you’re not the manager”

now up until this point, I didn’t realize my heart was racing. like  “I’d suggest you don’t get on my bad side” like what the fuck is that supposed to mean???? Honestly he’s got such a shit personality I wouldn’t put it past him to actually do something threatening. So I put in a request from July onward to never work with him ever again. I never mentioned anything that happened because I had actually grown nervous of having him confronted and I wanted to wait for things to theoretically cool down before I said anything. I wrote a solid list of 10 reasons why I can’t stand him anymore if I was ever asked about my request in preparation.

Unknown to me at the time, the Assistant manager who had been in the next yard over had heard the threat he said to me and confronted him with one of the new owners about it and he actually got a serious scolding. So a couple days later when my request was received and the Kennel manager wanted to talk to me, I was surprised to learn they already knew the story and wanted to confirm that that was why I had made such a request as the kennel manager knew I’d never do something like that unless it was serious. We talked a bit and the owner that had scolded the ass was there and was reassuring me that they were on my side and even THEY didn’t really like him and there was talk of potentially firing him and the owner asked if I wanted an apology and I said “sure” but I doubt it would ever be serious or genuine and it’s not like I’d forgive him or be ok working with him again.

I was hoping he’d be fired, but unfortunately we’re only hiring teenagers with no work experience atm instead of people who know what they’re doing in the kennels or around dogs so if he were to be let go it’d be a while before he can be officially replaced. And the owners have made it clear as much as they don’t like him or his methods, there is a sense of a little more control in the day kamp yards. Anyway, because people’s shifts are all over the place it’s difficult to properly set aside a time to really discuss things. They’re trying their best to “knock him down a peg or two” to get him to better respect his coworkers and what not. I dunno how that’s going cuz I do my best to not engage with him and be in a separate yard as much as possible.

Anyway, it’s been like a week, it’s the last week of the scheduled month, next months schedule will be coming out in a day or so, and the other new owner called me to talk about how we’re gonna deal with next month. On monday we briefly talked... while the asshole was still in the other yard?? about the situation and whether or not I was comfortable talking with him to work things out so there’s no miscommunication because the assistant manager and the ass were I guess able to work something out. Whether or not he actually listens to her from now on would be interesting to see, but I’m standing my ground on the fact that I’m putting up with him for the last assigned week of the month, then I want nothing to do with him ever again. I gave a quick “no” to talking with him. The new owner said we can continue the talk about the situation the next day. Yesterday rolls around and obviously we’re busy and there’s no time for that.

So today the new owner called. Reiterating how much of an asset I am up in day kamp, and how much they still need the asshole, and if there’s any chance I might still work up there and talk it out with him. This is were I start tearing up and choking up. I told her “it’s just been slowly building up over the past several months and that was the last straw” and “sorry, no”. She reassured me she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable or upset or force me to do something I didn’t feel comfortable doing, and understood the ass was, well, an ass to me and had no respect for me or my other coworkers. She revealed that apparently the ass interpreted me holding the gate closed was an “act of disrespect” towards him when she understood that was ridiculous as she knew closing a gate so dogs don’t escape is what you’re supposed to do. as if and “act of disrespect” gives him the right to casually threaten someone. Like I don’t even care if he was having a bad day getting his hand bitten, you’re bringing that bs on yourself. She said he wants to apologize and I dunno how true that actually is or if he’s just been guilted into it, but again I said an apology would be nice but it won’t change the way I feel about him. Anyway she said she’d like to talk to me again tomorrow when I’m in work cuz I forgot to mention I had off today and that’s why I received a call, cuz by that time I’ve got tears and snot running down my face like a fool lol I’m glad it wasn’t in person.

But also I never told my parents about this and my work doesn’t have my cell number only my home number so it was my dad who answered and handed me the phone and I talked to the owner in my room so no one would hear. But with my face as it was it was clear I’d been crying, but I hadn’t scrubbed my face or gotten dressed yet so I took that as the perfect excuse to hide my red eyes before returning the phone downstairs and taking my own dog for a walk.

But yeah they really want me in day kamp. And I really don’t wanna work with the ass. and the ass only works in day kamp. There was a time where I actually almost prefered day kamp to kennel work, but since the ass was hired that’s quickly reversed. I want to be in the kennel. I’ll do the annoying chores I don’t care. I cannot be anywhere near him. I refuse. The tension and awkwardness is too great, I’ll be too stressed out in day kamp. If they put me in day kamp most of the month, or more than twice a week which even that is a bit of a stretch, I need to look for another job because I cannot do that any more. I really don’t want to leave because I more or less have job security here, they need me, but I cannot come to work and deal with this shit anymore.

we’ll just have to see how next month’s schedule turns out.. :/

[blackbatpurplecat]

Catwoman 80th Anniversary

In 1940, one of the now most popular comic book heroes of all time got his very first solo run. It would become a milestone in comic book history. But he wasn’t the only one who had a chance to shine. In that premiere issue, even TWO of his most famous antagonists would be introduced: The man who laughs and the woman who steals.

That woman was intended to become the love of the hero’s life. The good guy and the naughty girl, the appeal was palpable. However, she wasn’t just a love interest or a generic thief or only another villain in the ever growing gallery of rogues the hero would face over decades to come, no - she was quite the character.

Her first alias was “The Cat” which would ultimately become Catwoman. Selina Kyle, the best thief in the world, a literal cat burglar, a classy seductress and queen of sass. And fans loved her so much that over time, she grew to become just as famous as the hero.

Her story has had its ups and downs. Mostly ups. ;) Going from the pages of the comics to the little and the big screen in the 60s, then she disappeared for a while, then made a comeback. She married the hero and had a child, though that marriage was later rebooted and was followed by a depressing origin story a sexist author made up for her in the 80s.

The 90s then turned out to be her decade! She found herself on the TV screen again, animated this time. She was portrayed by a Golden Globe winner on the big screen again. And she finally got her very own solo run in comics.

Her solo title was successful enough to run for over 20 years, a time in which her development from antagonist to anti-heroine would pan out. She would be a member of several teams, dance on both sides of the law, and even have another child. The screen called her back in form of a movie and a tv show. In one she was a thief with a love for killing, in the other a teenager. And we already know that her movie career will soon continue with two more projects.

In 2016, DC rebooted their entire universe. Catwoman’s origin story was changed, her relationships were lost, her solo run got canceled. No one knew what was real anymore - and fans didn’t like it. Only a year later, a retcon followed in a pathetic attempt to restore a status quo fans were familiar with and approved of. Even her solo run came back and today, in June 2020, we celebrate her 80th anniversary!

Catwoman is my favorite DC character ever. She’s clever, she’s funny, she’s stubborn, she’s classy, she’s confident, she plays by her own rules. When written right, she is such an entertaining character, unpredictable and fun.

In 80 years, there have been countless appearances, so many incarnations and interpretations of her - sure, I didn’t like all of them but you can say there’s something for each one of us. You don’t like her in the 2010s? Check out the 90s. You don’t like her in the 40s? Check out the 80s. There’s a version of Catwoman for many different tastes. She never goes out of fashion.

So to celebrate one of DC’s most famous women, they published a collection of 10 stories in total, written and drawn by people who have had touched her character over the past years.

Did Catwoman 80th Anniversary - Celebrating Eight Decades of Beauty and Burglary do her justice?

Warning: Spoilers!

Let’s check out each story and see what the writers came up with for this very special occasion. Except for one, none of these are meant to be canon, it’s just a collection of shorts meant to emphasise why Catwoman is so good. Something I noticed was that each writer had not picked any Catwoman to write but “their” Catwoman. A nice detail. Consistency, why not? Write what you feel comfortable and familiar with. This can only help with the quality of the stories, right? ... Right? ...

Strap in folks, this is going to be a LOOOOONG post!

Story #1: Skin the Cat by Paul Dini

Selina’s just living her normal life with her cats, occasionally stealing some money and jewels. Hey, a girl’s gotta eat. ;) What catches her attention are news reports about stolen big cats. I’m a cat lover myself and this series of crimes would worry me just as much as it worries Selina. She deduces where in Gotham someone could hide those wild cats, breaks in, and is welcomed by an eerie voice - as well as the taxidermied cats. Fucking bastard... The villain Taxidermist, quelle surprise, is behind the cat murders. He now intends to gas Selina and add her to his cat collection but Selina reveals that she’d already turned off the gas before breaking in. She escapes his long knives and watches as three big cats she had brought with her attack and kill him.

What an intro! A story about Selina’s love for cats and her strategic thinking. I really liked the first half! But once the Taxidermist shows up, it loses itself in drawn out exposition. Selina goes on a long monologue to explain to the reader who the Taxidermist is, how she knew it was him, how she turned off the gas, and how she replaced three of the dead cats with alive ones. I would have preferred to actually SEE her preparations for the face-off in flashback panels instead of having to read it. It didn’t feel natural at all. Also how the fuck did she bring 3 wild cats and switch them for the stuffed ones?! How?! And when?! I’m also quite sad that she didn’t get to save the cats. That was a bummer. So all she basically did was bring 3 big cats to kill a killer.

The art’s gorgeous, nothing else to say here!

6/10

Story #2: Now You See Me by Ann Nocenti

Ann Nocenti’s name immediately made me go uh-oh... Her bad and convoluted writing style made readers drop the Catwoman books which eventually lead to the solo run’s cancelation so you can understand why I was concerned.

So Catwoman is hiding a little pouch in a pigeon loft on a roof while pondering who to sell her stolen goods to - as well as where to vacation afterwards. She then notices a surveillance camera. The scene cuts to two cops on surveillance duty. They’re both bored as hell so when one spots Selina, he quickly distracts his colleague and leaves to find her. He takes the pouch out of the pigeon loft and a fight between him and Catwoman ensues. He reveals that he wants to become her partner. He wants to feed her any intel he can see on his screens so she could steal and sells some goods, and they’d split the money. When Selina refuses, he tries to blackmail her into complying. Selina presses a button on a little device and whatever’s in the pouch the cop sacked, explodes, sending him over the edge. Luckily, he lands on an umbrella Penguin had sent off apparently because we see him in one panel, angered that his plan was foiled. I’m not entirely sure what his “brilliant plan” was supposed to be. Something with gas tanks that were strapped to the umbrella I assume? I have no idea.

This one is missing too much context for my taste. What was in the pouch? Did the explosion kill the guy? What was Penguin doing there? What was his plan? Why did we need the second cop? For a super obvious but unnecessary parallel between Catwoman vs. corrupt cop and random woman vs. random man on one of the surveillance screens? Why give Catwoman so little “screen time” and so little dialogue? Is this short story referencing anything from Nocenti’s awful run and I just forgot? To quote Val Kilmer Batman: “It just raises too many questions.”

The art’s okay, nothing too special.

3/10

Story #3: Helena by Tom King

Oh boy. This is the big one. The one everyone’s been waiting for, I guess. The man who not so long ago had promised us a BatCat wedding just to shove a huge middle finger in our faces, promised us a pregnant Selina this time. I was skeptical of course. Also other readers were convinced he’d just let Selina have a miscarriage. Well, the good news is it wasn’t a miscarriage. The bad news is he almost makes Selina seem like she would have preferred a miscarriage.

The story goes like this: Selina hasn’t been feeling well so instead of going to a doctor like a normal person, Bruce scans her head and checks her vitals and blood (I can only assume because we’re not shown). Selina’s convinced that she’s seriously ill but a gentle, hopeful smile on Bruce’s face reveals the actual truth: She is pregnant. And her first reaction is shock and denial. We cut to BatCat fighting Tweedledum and Tweedledee (I think, you can’t really see them but the two men they knock out look identical). Selina then bends over and says that she’s about to throw up. Followed by a Batbucket joke. I’m getting so tired of all the forced self-awareness, guys. We cut to Catwoman, now sporting a baby bump underneath the skin-tight leather, sitting on a roof. She prepares a glass of wine while telling the baby that it is just like Bruce and it’s such a dick for taking away her freedom. After one sip, she chucks the glass away and curses. We’re then treated to a montage of BatCat fighting several rogues while Selina’s belly grows with each panel until it’s an 8, maybe 9 months along belly. I... I have no words. Except for yes, this was written by a man. BatCat are then standing on a roof and Selina laments that she’s a thief, not a mother, and the baby will derail her life and plans. The scene switches to Bruce and Selina in bed, arguing because she’s in labor. Bruce is ready to roll while Selina is STILL in denial, crying that she’s not a mother, that she’s not a hero or a good and brave person like him. Bruce tells her she didn’t run off so that means she’s a good person and they agree that it’s time to have the baby. Another cut to Selina having to take care of a crying baby Helena, asking why she’s crying when it’s Selina’s turn to stay at home and not Bruce’s. Selina talks to Helena, saying she’s luckier than Selina was because Selina’s mom ran off. She fucking FINALLY says something nice about her own child (”You’re a cute little kitten.”) and wonders what they’re going to do with her. The last page is old Selina and grownup Helena after Bruce’s death. Selina’s complaining about the pretty cemetery while Helena likes it. Her daughter’s ability to not shit on just everything and not be a total killjoy all the time causes Selina to say again that Helena is like Bruce. Upon Helena’s question if she’s anything like her mother, Selina answers that she’s just as stubborn as her. If she wants something, she steals it. Helena asks what she ever stole and Selina delivers the last predictable cliche of the story: “You stole my heart.”

Ugh. King’s Selina is just such a boring read. She’s not charming or interesting or sympathetic. Maybe I’m too used to a fun Selina but this one’s just a drag. A heavily pregnant Catwoman fighting Joker, yeah sure, totally not absolute bullshit. And the way Selina keeps distancing herself from the child inside her? For over 9 months?! Is she going out in that ridiculous catsuit because she wants to cause a miscarriage, is that it? So she doesn’t have to make a decision like abortion, adoption or leaving the baby with Bruce? Her constant cussing over the situation and crying and whining turns the pregnancy of my favorite DC couple into such a depressing ordeal.

The art is very pretty! Thank God.

4/10

Story #4: The Catwoman of Earth by Jeff Parker

After the depressing pregnancy of Catwoman, we switch to the wacky 60s version of her. Catwoman and her henchmen are robbing a science fair when suddenly, a UFO arrives. WTF?! Four aliens and a robot are beamed down to the surface and the group’s leader, an arrogant jock-like guy proclaims that they will take over the planet and enslave humanity. Catwoman angrily stands up to him. Turns out the evil aliens are sexist too when the male one tells Catwoman females have to ask for permission to speak and the female alien in the group unhappily agrees. The jock alien tells the muscly male alien to dispose of Catwoman but she’s not easy to dispose of! She fights off the brawler, she cuts the tentacles off the tentacle alien (someone WILL jerk off to that one panel), dodges the jock’s laser gun, steals the laser gun with her whip, shoots the robot to bits, and lets the police take the males away. The female alien seems much happier now and invites Catwoman to a flight around the world in the UFO. Catwoman suggests a trip to Paris so she can loot the Louvre.

Aliens and Catwoman don’t mix. I didn’t really care for this story. I mean it’s great to see Catwoman in action and taking down four guys on her own but... aliens and Catwoman just don’t mix. It was a bit jarring to me. Also the aliens’ designs weren’t super interesting. They were basically pink elves.

The art is beautiful. Catwoman looks like Julie Newmar and the entire color scheme is very 60s.

4/10

Story #5: A Cat of Nine Tales by Liam Sharp

Catwoman’s caught stealing a diamond necklace by an armed security guard. He seems a bit scared of her but knows it’s his job to stop her. She’s not engaging in a fight - of course not, he has a gun pointed at her! So instead, Catwoman relies on her talking skills. And intimidation skills. She tells the guard that there are 9 ways their situation could play out: 1. The guard lets her tie him up and escape with the necklace. 2. She beats his ass. 3. He kills her. 4. She scratches his eyes out. 5. He slips and gets knocked out. 6. He fires his gun, misses her, and the bullet ricochets until it kills him.  7. They team up. 8. She gives up. 9. She kills him. However, the story ends with the guard fainting because Catwoman’s just so damn scary.

Very short, very simple. Even the art is simple, on one page there are 3 very similar panels with only minor changes. Nothing memorable but not too bad. It shows how Catwoman can take someone out even without touching them. It’s okay.

The art reminds me of a comic from the 80s or maybe 90s. Hard to describe why. Guess you have to see it. Again, it’s okay.

5/10

Story #6: Little Bird by Mindy Newell

Selina learns from a news report that a priceless mezuzah has been found at a flea market. It’s currently at the Jewish Museum of Gotham City and Selina immediately steals it. Later, Batman shows up at her place and asks why she wants the mezuzah. She doesn’t give him much of an answer so he leaves. Pretty pointless scene I would say. A flashback reveals that a young Selina used to live with a Jewish lady. I dunno, I guess she’s a foster mother? And the woman liked Selina so much and considered her family so she gave her that mezuzah to pass it on to her own kids one day (even though Selina doesn’t want kids, is not related to the lady, and isn’t Jewish). Back to the present, Selina’s punishing a client. That prostitute background made an unwanted comeback for this story because Selina’s resisting and denying herself love so she’s “whoring”, to prove to herself how despicable she is. Okay...? There’s an inner turmoil going on, she’s torn between selling the artefact or not. Eventually, she decides to bring the mezuzah back to the lady she used to live with. The lady’s grown old and demented, lives in a home and is at the verge of dying. Selina places an envelop between the lady’s hands and leaves. The home’s director finds the envelop which contains the mezuzah, an official document which basically ensures that the lady will be taken care of before and after her death, and a poetic note from Selina.

My least favorite story out of them all - and that is quite an accomplishment when there are King and Nocenti in the same book! It had that Frank “I’m an insane sexist racist asshole” Miller prostitute bullshit in it and Selina hating herself again. This time, the “whoring” (and this word is not me, it’s from the actual story) is used as a way of self-punishment. Because it’s disgusting and wrong and Selina only does it to torture herself. Dunno if that’s the right message you wanna send here... The Jewish lady was kinda random to me because Selina’s not Jewish and never has been Jewish. This is not a negative point, it’s just so random. And the Batman scene was pointless, I have no idea what purpose it served. Except for showing us Batman pay Selina like a john and having Selina make jokes about “whoring.” Ugh.

The art was great, very clean.

1/10

Story #7: Born to Kiln by Chuck Dixon

Going from my least favorite to my favorite story in this book!

Catwoman knows there’s a diamond in a safe on a boat that is set to leave the harbour in the morning. So she climbs aboard at night to steal the gem. She finds several dead sailors and they’re all covered in mud. Who could have done this? Yes, you guessed right - it’s Clayface! He’s already at the safe, opens it, and retrieves the big stone. Catwoman reveals herself and aims a fire hose at him. Her confidence, however, dies the moment the hose doesn’t work. Clayface swallows the diamond and starts chasing after her. There’s apparently a machine to spray-paint cars on the boat so she lures him inside, activates the paint to blind him, and the hot lamps for the drying process immobilise the big pile of mud. Now that he’s nothing more than hard clay, Catwoman takes a wrench to him and takes the freed diamond.

FINALLY a story I really, really like from beginning to end! First off, IT’S PURPLE CATWOMAN!!! Selina is wearing my favorite costume, the iconic Jim Balent suit from her 90s solo run in this story - and I LOVE IT!!! Yeah, her boobs are quite loose in it and sometimes dangle in strange ways but fuck it! LOL I prefer hanging boobs over a tight corset that should reduce her agility or a back breaking pose anytime! We get sneaky Selina, we get playful Selina, we get over confident Selina who has to think fast and run even faster, and she gets what she wants in the end without killing anyone.

The art is gorgeous! It’s very fluid and alive. I also absolutely adore the cute facial expressions on Kitten’s face, especially when she locks Clayface in. I miss Catwoman being fun. In this, she’s just adorable and not sexualised at all.

8/10

Story #8: Conventional Wisdom by Will Pfeifer

Selina finds herself at a Bat Con and is supposed to give autographs. The whole scenario seems weird and confusing to her, she doesn’t remember how she got there or what is going on. Bruce, Joker, Riddler, and Two-Face being there with her to give autographs is even weirder. And why does no one except for her react to that unconscious, bloody man on the floor?! On her way to her panel, she runs into several cosplayers which is basically only fan service. But you will find the male, dark-skinned version of me at her panel, asking when the fuck she will finally put that 90s suit back on!!! The dialogues keep breaking the fourth wall, pointing out that this story is about to end. One of the panel’s attendees looks like Marvel’s Taskmaster and another is Selina herself in her Catwoman suit. Selina slowly remembers what happened: The Taskmaster dude is Doctor Destiny, she broke into his lair and stole his reality distorter, a little machine she’s been carrying around for the entire story. She smashes the machine to wake up back in the lair and cracks her knuckles, ready to take down Doctor Destiny and his goons.

And it was all a dream! That twist has never been a favorite of mine. Even though it’s not really a twist; you know immediately that it’s a dream. We don’t learn anything new about Selina or see anything Catwoman-y in this. It’s really basically fan service. They wanted Selina to see and interact with real life fans of hers so they made it happen. She also comments on various versions of her costume. It’s cute but kinda forgettable.

The art is good, it’s rare to see light and bright colors in a Catwoman book so it was a nice change. And the cosplayers looked nice. But they could have used different body types to make the fans more diverse and visually appealing.

3/10

Story #9: Addicted to Trouble by Ram V

And here we are, the premiere of the duo that will take over Catwoman’s current solo run from #23 onward. We get a first taste of the writing and art and I must say it’s a good taste.

This short story serves as a continuation of Joelle Jones’ #21 issue where at the end of the arc, Selina and her sister Maggie left Gotham in a purple car. So we see a short recap of how they got the car and where they were headed but unfortunately, the engine dies. They hitchhike to Memphis. Selina’s frustrated that Maggie doesn’t talk to her. They get drunk and start a fight at a bar. The cops show up and arrest them. While sitting in the back of the cop car, the girls start laughing together and steal the car. They leave behind their luggage which only contains stuff they won’t miss - including Selina’s cat funeral dress. They drive back to Gotham, Selina steals food and drinks on the way, and they cuddle on a rooftop overlooking the city. The story cuts to Selina and Leandro, a character I would know if I had continued the Jones run. She tells him she wants to lay low for a while and stay out of trouble. When he asks “Oh? Really?”, Selina throws a naughty smile towards the reader. Yeah yeah, lay low my ass. :D

First off, I have no idea what happened before the road trip, I don’t know why they took it or why Maggie doesn’t talk or what the purpose of all of this was because all they do is get drunk, fight an entire bar, and go back. No idea what that accomplished. And I feel sorry for the car because it was so gorgeous. Anyway, I am happy to say that Ram V has a great writing style! He gave a good voice to Selina, it sounded very natural and like a human would talk, no forced exposition or fake deepness.

The art was good, there were a few expressive faces and the bar fight was well executed.

5/10 (because I don’t know the context)

Story #10: The Art of Picking A Lock by Ed Brubaker

Instead of ending with a transition to the next Catwoman issue (which I would have preferred), the collection offers one more story and it’s written by the man who successfully handled the second half of Selina’s first solo run. He turned her stories more into the film noir direction and gave her sidekicks. The run also gave her a fugly suit and made her have sex with old men and Brubaker wanted to kill her off and have her not know who the father to her unborn child was so... yeah, I’m torn about that guy.

The last story shows us Catwoman breaking into a warehouse full of Joker goons while thinking about the thrill of breaking locks and how she learned how to do it when she was at a juvenile detention center. She beats them all up and demands to know where “he” is. Later, her friend Holly is on a motorcycle chasing after a cab while Catwoman is riding on top of a subway. Both reach Gotham’s harbor. We see that the cab is filled with Joker gas and the driver is laughing maniacally. Holly can’t reach the cab in time and it drives off into the water. Catwoman swings down and jumps after it. She breaks the trunk open and reveals a handcuffed Slam Bradley. Cut to the three back on dry land. Holly chides him for going after Joker alone and not waiting for backup. He admits that it was dumb, then shares intel on where Joker will strike and Selina should tell “her friend.” She says she will and Slam ends the book with the words that he could really use a cigarette. NO, this book was not that good that it would warrant a cigarette at the end!

This short obviously takes place during the second half of the first solo run. We see Catwoman in action, that’s cool. Taking down almost a dozen of armed Joker henchmen, that’s pretty badass! And a woman saves the man damsel in distress at the end, that’s a nice ending as well. However, I don’t care about the costume so the visual appeal wasn’t there and I really don’t care about Slam Bradley so the reveal at the end was pretty ugh to me.

The art is great! It’s like a modernised/smoother version of Darwyn Cooke’s style, the artist Brubaker worked on the Catwoman title in the 00s with. So that gives it a pretty nostalgic feel. 

5/10

In addition to the 10 stories we’ve now covered, there are pages to show off the Catwoman costumes of each decade as well as pinups. The costume pages are designed in the decade’s style (the 40s are black and white, the 60s psychedelic etc). But what I don’t get about the 90s one: It’s purple Catwoman grayed out in the background and gray BTAS Catwoman in color in the foreground - why make the purple outfit gray when you have an already gray outfit?! Just switch them! Also who put together the 70s one, couldn’t they find better costume examples?!

The seven pinups are pretty, unfortunately the majority feature the black outfits. I was surprised that even Tim Sale drew the black costume and not the purple one from his Long Halloween series. We get one of the gray BTAS costume and Jim Balent thankfully gives us BatCat with his purple creation. Nice!

Well, looking back at my personal scores for this collection of stories, Catwoman’s anniversary issue reached a total of 44/100 points in my book. Wow. That’s... not that good.

Most of the stories ranged from average to bad. Nothing spectacular, nothing memorable. There’s a lack of witty dialogue, Catwoman’s rarely fun to watch. In six stories she’s seen fighting, in three she’s seen being chased so I’m missing the variety here. I would assume you can do more with Catwoman than that. She often rather fights instead of using her wits and smarts. And actual cats are only featured in two stories but in one they die and in the other, Selina says she should drown them. -_- 

A collection of 10 new stories was a great idea but celebrating the character this is not. I’m happy that the next writer for Catwoman left a positive impression on me and the story feat. Balent’s Catwoman was a delight. However, the writers didn’t really bring their “A” game for this anniversary issue which is disappointing.

Would I recommend it? Hmmm. It pains me to say: not really, no. You don’t miss much by skipping it. You don’t miss sassy lines or breathtaking art, you don’t miss out on funny scenes or emotional depth. This anniversary issue is merely average and I highly doubt I’ll go back to reread it.

(a huge THANK YOU to everyone who read this entire, way too long post! i highly appreciate it 💜you’re a real trooper!)

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter Four

Chapter Summary: Virgil and Logan talk about Logan's dreams and a jarring conclusion is come to.

Word Count: 3,031

ao3 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / ?

"Logan?” Virgil’s voice was laced with exhaustion, but it was clear he hadn’t just been roused from his slumber. Logan considered that a small miracle of some kind.

“Virgil –.” he cursed the way his voice wavered with such unsteady emotion, turbulent and strong, “I’m – I’m sorry to be calling you so late.”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay dude,” Virgil assured, hearing the panic in his friend’s voice, “What’s going on?”

“I…I had a dream. Virgil, it was vivid. So vivid…I didn’t…I couldn’t see the difference between it and reality and…”

“Hey man, it’s going to be okay. Was it another nightmare?”

Virgil knew well of Logan’s nightmares. Just like he had been with Roman, Logan had been close with Virgil for many years now. He was one of Logan’s closest friends, someone who he knew he could go to with almost any matter, and Virgil would listen with compassion. His snark and wit was something that, while sometimes slightly irritating, brought Logan a great deal of joy. He loved that he could go to his friend about anything, and this was no exception.

“No. No, it – it wasn’t. I dreamed…I dreamed that Remus and I were married.”

“Oh...Huh. And that’s…a bad thing?”

“No!” Logan hissed, sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible in the fear of disturbing Remus, “I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know! When I woke up I – I thought it was true, for a moment. I thought Remus was my husband.”

“Right, uh, okay. I’m not sure if I’m following you here: Did you want to get married?” Logan searched his mind for an answer, searched for the words No, of course not. That would be completely and utterly ridiculous. We’ve only been dating a short while. Despite everything, the words never surfaced. “Logan,” Virgil repeated, the concern in his tone deepening, “Do you want to get married?”

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, crushed under the weight of the desires he could no longer ignore.

“I –.” He paused, worrying his bottom lip, before forcing himself to get the word out, “Possibly.”

“Logan, buddy, where the hell did this come from? I mean, you guys have been dating, what, eleven months now?”

“Almost a full year,” Logan muttered, miserable at the onslaught of unbridled emotion, “In two weeks.” Virgil sighed into the phone.

“Okay, sure, yeah. But where did this come from? Was the dream just out of the blue, or what?”

For a moment, Logan was about to explain his conversation with Remus, the jealousy he felt when he was told of Roman’s desire to propose to Virgil – but luckily, even in his state of over emotion, he still had some sense left in him. it wasn’t like he could just tell Virgil about how Roman was planning on proposing to him at some point! Even so, he needed to explain his predicament somehow.

“Remus brought up the idea of marriage earlier tonight,” Logan explained carefully, “I’ll be honest…my reaction was not the best.”

“What do you mean?”

“To put it bluntly, I freaked out. It just blindsight me, it’s by no means something I’ve considered in the past.” Logan could practically see Virgil gazing at him intently.

“And now you’re all for it?”

“That’s not…that isn’t what I said.”

“Then what are you saying, Lo?” Logan groaned softly, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“I don’t know. Before Remus, I’d never allowed myself to consider a future with anyone. As far as I was concerned, I was going to be alone and…I suppose I made peace with that. But then we got closer, and we started dating and…everything changed.” Virgil laughed on the other end, a tired, amused sound.

“Yeah, love will do that to ya.  Do you think I had any idea I was going to become as sappy as I’ve become? I mean, Jesus, just the other day I nearly burst into tears when Roman and I were picking out curtains together – and we’ve been living together for months now!” Logan could certainly empathize with that.

“I’m still not entirely used to it. Being so at the mercy of my emotions.”

“Welcome to the club, pal,” Virgil said with a chuckle, “But my point is, it makes sense that you’re getting worked up thinking about how you’ve got someone in your life who you love and who loves you. It can be a lot to take in sometimes.” Silence rung out between them for an uncomfortable moment before Logan spoke again.

“I want to marry him.”

“Whoa – slow your role, man! Just because you had some dream where you were a married couple?”

“…Yes.” Virgil groaned.

“Oh my god, this cannot be the Logan Sanders I know and love. Logan, dude, do you recognize how fucking insane that sounds?!”

“I do,” Logan said, though his tone of voice seemed to indicate the opposite, “But really, now that I’m considering things, it makes perfect sense.”

“You’re going to have to expand upon that then because I’m lost as fuck.”

“The entirety of our relationship has been incredibly fast. At first, I’d been opposed to such things, but quickly I found myself not minding the pace that things were going. Despite my initial hesitations, it all felt natural. To put it simply, Remus and I have been “speedrunning” our relationship. I can’t picture being with anyone else, and I don’t imagine he can either, therefore marriage is the next logical step.”

“Okay, but is it really the next ‘logical’ step? Don’t you think you might be rushing into this a bit, man? I mean, I’ve always considered you such a careful planner. How can you possibly know this is the right thing to do based on a dream?” Logan went silent for a moment, lost in his contemplation before posing a question to his friend.

“Can you imagine being with anyone besides Roman?”

“Ah – geez man I don’t know about –.”

“Can you?” Virgil sighed, the sound somewhat defeated.

“No…no I can’t. Fuck, I love him, a lot – but hey, we’re not talking about Ro and I’s relationship. We’re talking about you here,” Virgil said, clearly intent on steering the topic away from himself.

“I made the connection to you and Roman’s relationship in an effort to help you understand where I’m coming from. I'd never considered the fact that I could be content in a long-term relationship, I didn’t think it was possible, but I am. I love Remus immensely, more than I knew I was capable of loving someone else. I don’t ever want to consider the idea of being with anyone else, I just want him.”

“So you’ve decided, just like that, you want to get married?” Virgil asked incredulously, “I mean, just a couple minutes ago you called me sounding terrified.”

“Tell me, Virgil, do I still sound terrified?” Virgil paused, mulling the question over before sighing.

“No, you don’t. I guess you sound pretty clear-headed.”

“Precisely. I know I must’ve sounded frantic – I’ll admit, I was feeling rather frantic, and I apologize if that was cause for concern. But now, I feel like I’ve found such clarity. I know this is probably nothing you’d expected of me –,”

“You got that right,” Virgil interrupted pointedly, but there was no bite to his bark. He was quickly adjusting himself to the fact that Logan’s mind seemed very well made-up.

“Yes, well, that is understandable. Regardless, I feel strongly about this. I know it must be strange, me getting so lost in a dream, believe me, it’s just as odd for me to get so wrapped up in something so trivial. But I feel as though it’s sort of been…” Logan trailed off, unsure of his wording.

“A sign?” Virgil supplied hesitantly.

“Something like that, yes. I want him to be my husband, Virgil. It’s as simple as that,” Logan said as if anything about this situation felt simple.

“I know he was the one to bring it up, but do you think Remus will be keen on getting engaged this early in?” Virgil asked, before considering it for a half a second. “You know what? Never mind. Knowing him, he’s already planning on proposing to you or something. I mean, he’s the one who claims to be “Mr. Unpredictable” and all that.”

The idea made warmth bloom in Logan’s chest.

“Well, I-I don’t know about that. But at the very least, I can be certain he won’t shoot the idea down entirely.”

“And you’re not scared?” Virgil asked, “Of such a big change, I mean.” Logan laughed softly, still mindful of his sleeping boyfriend.

“Scared? Of course not. I’m positively terrified.” It was Virgil’s turn to laugh, it seemed, barking one out at sentiment. “Nonetheless, this is what I want.”

“Okay, L,” Virgil said finally, settling into the idea, “If that’s what you want, then you’ve got my support.” Logan sighed, more than a little relieved to have his friend onboard. He’d need all the help he could get to pull this thing off.

“Thank you, Virge. That means a great deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’re friends for, am I right?” Virgil said, clearly trying to downplay the clear emotion in Logan’s tone, distantly wondering if he’d ever get used to seeing such emotional vulnerability in his friend, “What kind of help do ya need?” Logan blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“For the proposal,” Virgil clarified, “I’m sure you’re brewing some kind of plan as we speak. What can I help you with?” Virgil wasn’t wrong; a plan was beginning to form in his mind.

“Well,” Logan said, mind already teeming with ideas, “Since you offered, I was wondering…could you and Roman host a party?” Virgil scoffed.

“A party? What’re you on about, dude? You fucking hate parties.”  

“Be that as it may, Remus and I’s relationship began at you and Roman’s party nearly a year ago. I feel it would be a…pleasantly familiar atmosphere to propose to him in.” Logan could hear the gears in Virgil’s mind turning.

“Wow, Lo. I think that’s the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Logan sputtered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “Hey, hey cool your jets, man,” Virgil said with a laugh, “I didn’t say no, just that it’s unexpectedly cheesy coming from you. I’ll ask Roman about it, though I’m sure he’ll say yes. He’s gonna think this is the cutest thing.”

“I – thank you, Virgil,” Logan breathed out, still feeling fairly flustered, “I sincerely appreciate it.”

“Sure man. Not too many people at the party, I assume?”

“Yes, I would prefer to keep it small.”

“Okay What’s the cover-story, then? Are we going to call it your guy’s One Year Anniversary party or something?” Logan considered it a moment. Doing anything else would surely arouse suspicions, and that would be strictly out of the question. But a party in honor of the milestone they’d reached in their relationship? That made sense.

“That…that sounds satisfactory,” Logan concluded, though Virgil could clearly hear how much more at ease he felt.

“Alright, man. I’ll let you know the details tomorrow. This is absolutely insane to think about, but I hope it goes great. If anyone could make it work, it’d be you two.”

“Thank you, Virgil, for everything you’ve done for me tonight. I appreciate it,” he choked out, “a great deal.”

“You’re welcome, L. Now I’m gonna let you go before this gets even more incredibly sappy.”

“Right, of course,” Logan said, remembering how late it was, “Goodnight, Virgil.”

“Night, man,” Virgil said before hanging up the phone and leaving Logan to process the conclusion he’d just come to.

Logan Sanders wanted to get married. Considering how he’d been behaving earlier in the evening, he should’ve been terrified by the prospect of wanting such a thing, and to some extent he certainly was, but he also felt so much calmer having decided to take this course of action.

Despite everything, he believed in this, believed in the strength of his relationship. For the first time in his life, Logan saw a future for himself that was worth holding onto.

He poured out the mug of tea that had since gone cold and crawled back into bed. Remus grumbled sleepily beside him, throwing his arms around him and pulling him into a sleepy embrace, though he didn’t wake. Logan returned the embrace happily, aware of the fact that he’d most likely struggle to get back to sleep, but it didn’t matter. He held Remus as tightly as he could, engulfed in his plan.

=+=

“Princey, you are not going to believe the conversation I just had,” Virgil announced loudly after he’d gotten off the phone, walking into their shared bedroom. Roman was sitting at the desk, probably rereading a script he had to prepare for that he’d long since memorized. Virgil decided it had been kind of a steal, finding a partner who was just as much of a night-owl as he was, though they’d both always be equally as tired in the morning.

“Who in their right mind was talking to you at this time of night?” Roman asked as if they weren’t currently still awake. Virgil belly-flopped onto the bed with more force than necessary, turning to face Roman who had since closed his laptop.

“So Logan calls me at one in the morning in a panic, right?”

“Logan? What was the matter with pocket protector? A nightmare?” Virgil sat up on the bed, crossing his legs.

“See, that’s what I thought too, but he told me the dream he had wasn’t a nightmare. He said it was a really good dream – which was exactly why he’d woken up so frantically.” Roman arched an eyebrow.

“Why in the world would he wake up and call you about a good dream?” Virgil couldn’t fight the smile his face broke out into if he wanted to.

“That’s the thing: he dreamed about him and Remus getting married.” Suddenly, Roman was on his feet with an incredulous look on his face.

“Oh my god! Are you serious?”

“I am! We talked it out a little bit, and then out of the blue, he was committed to the idea. He’s gonna fucking propose to your brother.” Roman couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my gosh, I just had a conversation with Remus today about how he wants to propose to Logan!”

“Are you fucking joking?!”

“I’m not!”

“That’s insane! So you’re telling me that Logan wants to propose to Remus…and Remus wants to propose to Virgil…”

“Apparently. Oh, it completely slipped my mind! Remus requested that in two weeks we host a party –.” Virgil buried his face in his hands. “What’s the matter, love? You’re not keen on the idea?”

“No,” Virgil asked with a snicker, “No, it’s not that. It’s just, Logan just made the same request to me.”

“You…you cannot be serious,” Roman said, seeing how Virgil was still laughing, “Oh sweet heavens, you’re serious.”

“I am. Did you tell Remus this all seemed a bit fast?”

“I did. And I presume you told Logan the same.”

“Course I did. I couldn’t help it; I was just so surprised. But it looks like this is what both of them want.” Roman sat beside Virgil, taking his hand and squeezing it.

“I can’t believe they’re both planning on proposing to one another.”

“Ditto,” Virgil said, his thumb tracing circles against Roman’s hand, “God, this is probably going to be such a mess.”

“Knowing those two, yes, yes it will,” Roman said, intent on more physical contact as he pulled Virgil into his lip, his head resting against the headboard. Virgil quickly accepted his new placement, sighing contently as Roman began to card a hand through his hair. “Even still, it’s so romantic, isn’t it?” Virgil sighed fondly.

“I knew you were gonna get all sappy,” he said teasingly.

“But it is, though,” Roman defended, “They want to propose to one another, both unaware that the other wants just the same.”

“I say it’d be a hell of a lot easier if somebody just told them.”

“Don’t you dare even think of doing such a thing,” Roman said pointedly, “They’ve got to do this on their own.”

“I know, I know,” Virgil said, his lips curling into a smile as Roman massaged his scalp, “I’m not being serious. I mean, this out to be pretty damn entertaining, right?”

“I suppose so,” Roman said, though there was something far-off about his tone. Virgil pushed his hand out of his hair, despite how nice it felt, and positioned himself to make eye contact with his boyfriend.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Roman shook his head.

“Nothing’s wrong, my love.”

“Ro, c’mon, babe, you’ve got that wistful look in your eyes.”

“What look in my eye? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Roman.” It took very little for Roman to crack under pressure, and Virgil saying his name like that was a surefire way to do it.

“Okay, okay. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now…” Roman trails off, feeling his pule beginning to flutter.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m listening,” Virgil encouraged softly. Roman nodded, determined to keep going.

“Right, well, I’ve been meaning to ask you your thoughts on marriage.” Roman could instantly feel the panic rising in his boyfriend. “I’m – I’m not proposing right now! I just wanted to know your feelings on the matter.” Virgil visibly began to relax.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, getting married is the end goal.” A soft, hopeful smile graced Roman’s face.

“Yeah…yeah, me too. So if I was to, at some point, hypothetically, ask you to –.”

“I’d say yes,” Virgil assured, his voice brimming with emotion. Roman, utterly relieved, pulled his boyfriend into a kiss with far too much intensity for the time of night; neither men seemed to care.

“I love you so much, my dark prince,” he said pressing their foreheads together, his voice just above a whisper.

“I love you too, Ro,” Virgil promised, his heart swelling with unbridled emotion, “With all my damn heart.”

That night two couples slept, both intent on marriage and both helplessly, hopelessly in love.

=+=

[teddy-bear-surprise]

Chapter 7: Groundhog Day- Spencer

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 Part 1 || Chapter 7 Part 2 || Chapter 8 || Almost The End || Chapter 9 ||

Same warnings as the previous chapter. This was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever written so please let me know if there are any inconsistencies or if you have any constructive criticism. Lastly, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

I was sleeping deeply, swaddled in the comfort of my dreams when I heard a series of loud bangs outside of my door. My mind churned as I struggled to form a cohesive series of thoughts. We had gotten along together so well yesterday so why was it that Ophelia still felt the need to wake me up in such a crude manner. The ceaseless racket that she was stirring up outside broke through my concentration and planted a painful headache in my mind.

“WHAT THE HELL?! I THOUGHT WE WERE PAST THIS!” I yelled out to her, not trying to be mean or anything, but I just could not stand the constant perturbances.

She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her eyes had changed. I could see the devil in them again, it was like everything that happened yesterday had only happened to waste my time, energy, and hope.

“You should be kinder to your host. After all, I am the one paying for the bed you’re sleeping in and could easily throw you out to dry up in the desert. You wouldn’t last a day, moron.”

I was taken back by her words. My yelling had been merely a statement intended to stop the commotion she created, nothing more. But even the insinuation that she might leave me to die in the desert was enough to scare me. I wanted to love Ophelia, I really did, but some aspects of her genuinely frightened me.

“I– What are you talking about? I just thought that after yesterday, you would be less aggressive,” I tried my best to convey the betrayal and confusion that I was feeling and for a second I could have sworn she understood me.

Her reply, however, confused me even further, “I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you’re talking about. Stop talking nonsense and get out of bed so we can get started. We have a long day ahead of us.”

What kind of mind games was she trying to play? What was she getting at? There I was, vulnerable and distressed, while she picked away at every ounce of hope I had left. It grew more challenging for me to understand her by the minute. Though I may have gotten a peek into her mind yesterday, I was now certain that I had only scratched the surface.

“You said you would go easy on me. We caught up last night. I thought we were on good terms again.”

“Did you hit your head? What the fuck are you talking about, you fucking worm?”

Ophelia walked closer to me and I tried to retreat, but she was in control before I could protest. Her hand connected with the fabric of my shirt and she lifted me by it as I felt it stretch uncomfortably.

“Stop fucking around and let’s go.”

I struggled to find the words to express my submission as she pulled me closer to her face, “F–fine. Fine. I’m going, just let me put on my socks again.”

My hands flew around blindly trying to find my socks when she released me. Eventually, I found a grey sock and a blue one, sliding them onto my feet with trembling hands.

“How the hell did you manage to mix up your sock colors? I literally gave you matching pairs of socks, fucking dumbass.”

While I tried to ignore most of her insults, this one hurt me deeply. The tradition was one that my grandmother had taught me about as a child. It was one of the only memories I had with her and I would rather die than let Ophelia shame me for doing it. Especially with her unpredictable temper, luck was something I could not waste or forgo.

“I just switched them around, it’s good luck.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re definitely gonna be needing that luck.”

Her maniacal laugh filled my ears up and sent shivers down my spine as I pulled the second sock up to my calf. I was already expecting the worst from her, but after that, I was not so sure my expectations were gruesome enough to match her plans.

“Give me your hands.”

She did not even give me enough time to react to her request before jamming her pointy knee into my sternum and retrieving a pair of handcuffs from her pocket. My mind struggled to process the overwhelming sense of Deja Vu that I was feeling at that moment. After a few moments, my thoughts caught up and I offered my arms to Ophelia shyly.

I had tried to be as inoffensive as possible with my actions, but I guess she must have perceived it differently because soon she was yanking my arms up to her level. As she pulled my hands closer to her, I felt my shoulder pop slightly, sending shooting pain down my arm. It took all of my strength to not react to the injury. It was much too early on in the day for me to show weakness. I was going to put up a fight for as long as I could, even if that was only a few minutes.

But as soon as she closed the cuffs around my wrists, I winced. The combined pain of my wrists and shoulders being abused was just enough to draw a reaction from me and I knew she had noticed immediately. She laughed at me, probably thinking about how weak I was.

“Man up, Mr. FBI, stop being such a wimp. My three-year-old neighbor could handle more pain than you.”

There it was, the not so subtle jab that lowered my self-confidence until I was vulnerable. I wanted to hide my emotions, but with all of the turmoil that churned in my mind and the salt she was rubbing into fresh wounds, I could not help but mutter my disappointment. Luckily, I was quiet enough that Ophelia thought that I was just sighing and did not take offense.

I looked up to face her, “Sorry, I’m ready to go now.”

“Come on, princess, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you today,” she dragged me by the handcuffs and I struggled to keep up with her, still only half-awake and tired.

She plopped me down onto the same chair I had sat in yesterday but it felt slightly off. It was less comfortable than it had been before, not that it had been comfortable in the first place. Ophelia dragged my arms aggressively to the table to restrain me. I really needed her to stop doing that or soon I would end up with a dislocated shoulder and I certainly would not want that.

I sat there motionless for the most part, every once in a while I would have to shift a bit to keep my arms from going numb. While I was not certain of my theory, I suspected that either the table or my chair had changed. Yesterday I had not struggled so much to keep my hands red and feeling, but today they were easily turning white and tingly with the awkward angle that had been created. I had no choice but to accept the discomfort.

A part of me wondered if yesterday had even been ‘yesterday’ at all. It was entirely possible that I had dreamt the whole thing. Made up elaborate scenarios in my mind based on what I had seen of the house already and taken it as truth. My familiarity with the interrogation room could just as easily be construed as faulty storage of short term memory.

Who was I to know? Based on what I am almost certain is a real memory, I had a concussion. If that was the truth, then I doubt that my memories would be feeling normal anytime soon. Maybe it would be in my best interest to accept each day as a dream. To protect my consciousness and subconsciousness.

I kept my eyes trained on my hands as I considered my hypothesis but I could feel Ophelia’s ardent stare penetrating my mind’s walls. And while I had no idea what thoughts were running through my mind, I felt as though she did. Fearing that she was plotting something, I stole a glance in her direction. Ophelia’s eyes immediately darted towards the ground and my curiosity grew ten times stronger.

What twisted thoughts occupied her mind? Was she thinking about how to dispose of my body? How she wanted to kill me? How she wanted to traumatize me even further?

I opted to use the last of my wit to get her attention back. “So, what are we doing today? You said I would need my luck, I’m waiting.”

“Did you really think I’d just jump to the chase like that? No, it’s all a game, darling. You wait your turn, play your angle, and then maybe you’ll win.”

Ophelia walked towards me, slowly, like a lion waiting to pounce on her prey. Her eyes were fixated on me and it seemed like time stopped when she touched my shoulder. I felt vulnerable. Frightened. I could have sworn that she stole a sultry wink in my direction and I felt my heart flutter. Why was my mind betraying me like this? I did not want that tingle on my skin to go away, but at the same time, I knew that I should not be feeling this way about a woman whose hobby is murder.

I was unable to tell if it was her touch or her words that had me shaking. All I knew was that she had planned for my reaction and I gave her exactly what she wanted.

I castigated myself, angry at how I let her mess with my mind. For all I knew, I could still be dreaming or in a coma. Why else would Ophelia be reenacting yesterday and flirting with me? Why else? She hated me.

She did, didn’t she?

Ophelia left the room and while the soundproof walls of her house were practically iron-clad, I could still feel the vibrations of her movement as she ran up the stairs. I stared at the smooth ceiling for nearly five minutes trying to hear her steps but soon became bored and began counting the stones that lined the rough walls of the room.

It was a strange design choice for sure. I knew that we were in Arizona, but I would never have expected someone as smart as Ophelia to use a soft rock like sandstone to build an interrogation room. Though, I assumed that she must have included some other more resistant material behind the stone. There were little mounds of dust lining the floor, the house must have been so new that some of the dust still fell off when Ophelia went up and down the stairs.

I sat patiently in my chair, hoping that she would return soon today. Though I was anxious for the day to end so that I could return to bed, I was not looking forward to the cold again.

Anxious to know what lay in store for me, I fiddled with my hands, using each of my knuckles to help me keep track of the stones on the wall. I bounced my legs, hoping that some kind of movement might relieve the pins and needles. I had counted sixty-two stones when I began noticing a light layer of sweat accumulating on the surface of my skin. The neck of my shirt suddenly felt tighter and the air much thicker.

Now the real question was: Had I dreamt of the cold or was the heat a method of tricking me?

Had Ophelia planned to fluctuate the temperature daily so that I would not know what day was which or what was real or my imagination? There were so many variables that I could not account for and I felt helpless knowing this.

My thoughts began melding together, the distinction between each idea growing more convoluted by the second. I could vaguely understand why I felt this way, but I did not know what to do. Ophelia had not given me anything to eat since the first day. I was starving and dehydrated. The heat that was building up around me did not help either.

Suddenly a pang of hunger exploded in my stomach and I knew that my malnourishment was to blame. I felt sweat dripping from my hairline and down to my neck, soon even taking over my entire back. My breaths grew shallow and my mouth dried up.

I tried to straighten my body and stand up, but my attempts at comfort were hindered by the handcuffs. Defeated, I sat down again and leaned back, trying to stretch my body and ease my breathing. My lungs struggled to take in the hot air and my vision blurred slightly.

All I wanted was to relieve myself of the heat, but the garments on my body only made it worse. My shirt had been practically soaked through and the rest of my clothes were not far behind. In a futile attempt to cool me down, I slipped off my socks. The relief was quick but temporary.

I closed my eyes, tilting my head towards the ceiling again and a creak broke through the silence, “It seems that your luck has ended, handsome.”

Ophelia’s once demonic voice sounded so angelic that it surprised me, “Wha–”

I turned to face her and in my mind, I was ecstatic to see her but my facial expressions could not keep up with my thoughts. I felt my forehead creasing and eyes squinting, indicating confusion or disgust, in actuality, however, I could not be happier.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see soon enough. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back.” My heart smiled when she winked.

It felt as if I were floating in a dream. My limbs felt nothing besides the heat fanning onto them, I was losing my touch with reality.

I was certain that only moments had passed when she came back in, but somehow it also felt as if I had waited a whole day for her to return. The sudden noise of her slamming the briefcase on the table in front of me brought me back to the present.

I croaked, struggling to speak with my dry throat. “Uhhhh, Ophelia, what is that?”

I opened my eyes wide to try to see the black blob better, but my eyesight was deteriorating as my existence crumbled. Ophelia was sporting a sinister look upon her face and I could not understand what it meant.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Ophelia spoke with a low voice and clicked open the case’s closures slowly.

Of course, I wanted to know what lay inside, but knowing Ophelia– or assuming the worst– it would not be anything good. I was praying that there would just be a bottle of water inside. That was all I wanted.

She played with a blindfold in her hands and stared me down, under her gaze I lost control of my body and gulped loudly. She heard me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, that wouldn’t be any fun.”

I could not comprehend the words that I heard so I asked tentatively, “K–kill me?”

Ophelia smiled back at me with vile drops of poison dripping from her mouth… or maybe that was just sweat. I was too spaced out to tell. She walked behind me and my mind could not grasp that I could no longer see her in front of me, but that I could still see her behind me in the mirror.

“Why are you so worried? I said I wouldn’t kill you.”

This talk of murder along with the complexity of mirrors baffled me. The mental toll of it grew to be so much that even my breathing stopped for a moment. But when I felt Ophelia cover my eyes and my vision finally left me, I relaxed. The loss of such a vital sense should have scared me, yet its departure soothed me. I no longer needed to worry about seeing and my energy could now be used on my other senses.

Ophelia’s hand slithered down my arm and I could feel her touch throughout my entire body. Though I could feel her grip on me very clearly, the primitive side of my mind still wanted to know where she was and my head turned every which way in search of her. I guess I must have subconsciously forgotten that I had a blindfold on. Suddenly her fingers reached mine and I felt her squeeze my hand, I wondered why she would do that, but nothing made sense today anyway.

I sensed her hand retreating and soon heard the clatter of objects as she dug into what I assumed was her briefcase. Her footsteps approached me again and I felt myself overheating. This time, I could hear a subtle whir of a blade cutting through the air every few moments. Was it a fan that she held, or was it a knife of some sort? There was only one way that I could find out and I was not anticipating it.

“So, how’d ya find me, Mr. FBI?”

Her voice brought blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment. “I–I don’t know, I don’t think I can answer that question.”

As much as I wanted to give a good response, the inside of my mind now resembled a labyrinth that even I could not navigate. I racked my dull brain in search of an answer but I could not seem to find it anywhere. I was uncomfortable with how useless my mind had become. According to everyone, I was supposed to be a genius, now I was nothing more than a dumb nobody.

“You sure about that?”

Sweat dripped down into the blindfold and stung my eyes. I tried to come up with a better reply this time. I tried. Apparently, Ophelia was not in the mood for patience or grace today because the next thing I knew, a sharp knife-like object was piercing its way through my shirt.

Ophelia dragged its blade along my chest. She was so close to my heart that I became even too frightened to breathe. I could not go out like this. Not cowering in a crappy metal chair in some basement in Arizona. This was not going to be the end for me.

Then I felt it pierce my skin. Maybe this actually was the end. My blood fell onto the blade and I was thankful for my dazed state. If I had been fully conscious, I would have yelled, kicked, and cried from the pain, still, I could feel nothing more than the warmth of my own blood dripping down my skin.

“Would you like to reconsider?”

I wanted to be strong but knowing that blood was escaping from my already weakened body was disheartening and I allowed myself to shed a single tear. I had no answer. I had no idea what she was even talking about. My memory barely went far back enough to remember what she had said just now. I was probably only a few minutes away from passing out– my limbs grew lighter and my eyes heavier– there was no use in even trying to cooperate.

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know.”

“Why are you lying to me? I know you’re lying and your tears aren’t going to deter me.”

There was nothing left for me to say. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

The words lost their meaning as more tears escaped my eyes. I thought she would have given up by then, but quitting has never been a part of Ophelia’s vocabulary, that much I was sure of. “Okay, fine, I get it. You don’t know. Is there anything you do know? Like your name maybe? Anything?”

“Spencer Reid!” Finally, something that I could say with confidence.

“Wait? As in Spencer Reid from Las Vegas, Nevada?”

I was shocked. Ophelia did not know it was me, could I really have imagined everything about 'yesterday'? I pushed a bit further, hoping that I could gain some sympathy from her. “Yeah! Ophelia, it’s me, we’re friends, remember?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s little ‘Germs’! Holy shit, I haven’t seen you in ages, kid. You changed so much that I didn’t even recognize you.” She remembered and I smiled at the nickname. The sound of it blessed my ears despite the slightly embarrassing memories that it carried.

“I know, it’s been over twenty years, I was too scared to say anything, but it’s me.” The truth was more complicated than that, but frankly, that was all that I could manage to say as my body grew weaker and weaker.

She pulled the blindfold off of my head and I blinked rapidly, trying to accustom my eyes to the room’s brightness again. While I could surely see better now than I could with the blindfold on, there were still black spots dotting nearly every corner of my vision. I noticed her hand moving up to my face and instinctively flinched.

She looked apologetic and spoke quietly to me, “Spencer, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. If I had known… you should have said something.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. I trust you, Ophelia, you would never hurt me.” I had no idea what I was saying. I prayed that my words reflected the truth, but at this point, I was just grasping at threads.

When I saw her bury her face in her hands reprehensively, however, I was assured that I had made the proper judgment call. I tried to reach over and comfort her, only prevented from doing so by the chains that still held my hands to the table.

“I’m so sorry. I– I never meant for this to happen.” Ophelia’s breath faltered and I thought I could hear her crying quietly from beneath her hands.

I tried to comfort her again. “It’s okay…”

She got up, wiping away her tears, and approached me, “Here, let me take those handcuffs off.”

“Thank you, Ophelia.” The relief that I felt when I was released was unparalleled and I forgot about everything else for a moment.

“Oh shit, I forgot about the cut. I’ll be right back to take care of that.”

She quickly stuffed the knife and blindfold back into her case and ran out. I assumed that she locked it out of fear that I would try to steal something from her, but she underestimated just how frail I was. I could barely see and I had almost no control over my motor functions, I posed no threat to her or anyone.

“Hey, Spence, I’m back.” When she returned I noticed that she was relieved that I had not moved. I was almost proud of myself for meeting her expectations and gave her a silly grin.

“Ophelia! That was quick.”

“Yep, I’m pretty efficient.”

Ophelia positioned herself between my legs and dug through her first-aid kit. I saw her grabbing all sorts of different items but they all looked the same from where I sat. She cleaned my wound gently and I looked down to see what exactly she was doing, I could not help but notice how close that our faces were. She was so quick and efficient that before I could even ask what she was doing, she had already bandaged my cut.

She might have been a criminal but she was a damn beautiful one at that. I was so delirious that her proximity to me triggered something deep inside of my subconscious.

“Hi…” I spoke in a singsong voice, wanting to get her attention.

Ophelia looked up at me and I did something that I had been wanting to do since the first time I saw her. I leaned down and kissed her. It took everything in me to move my lips against hers and kiss her back with the same energy that she brought.

My lethargic movements actually worked in my favor this time. Rather than showing how excited and anxious that I was, my lack of power channeled sensual energy instead. Her kisses felt just like I had imagined, soft and sweet. I felt as if I was on cloud nine and I only wanted more. My hand wrapped itself around her back and pulled her closer to me, not wanting to let go of the magical feeling.

A sharp pain emerged in my thigh suddenly and split through my thoughts. I looked down at Ophelia with pleading eyes. Then everything went bla–

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 24: Want, Take, Have

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Inhibitions lower and sparks fly.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

You showed up at the MacLeod residence at nine o'clock sharp. The cold of the night bit at every inch of your exposed skin. It seeped into your bones like poison, made the blood in your veins run frozen.

Luckily, Rowena was quick to let you in. She locked the door while you hung the coat. The house was warm like a summer afternoon; you melted in it, basked in the pleasantness, in the sweet, welcome comfort it provided.

It felt like home.

"God, it's cold," you commented, rubbing your trembling palms together.

"Like death," Rowena agreed.

It was then that you looked at her — really, truly looked at her; into her eyes; head to toe — and all thoughts about the killing cold vanished from your head as if they'd never existed.

She was clad in a gown, a blue one with sparkles that looked as if the night sky had wrapped itself around her lithe body. The fabric was thin, soft even from the looks of it. It hugged her every curve as if it were molded on her, a second, beautiful skin, the color of it a perfect contrast to her natural paleness.

Her hair was curled. Eyelids painted a blend of pink and blue that would've looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on Rowena it just fit. As if the colors, however dark in contrast to her skin, however conspicuous, were created solely for her. Her lips sparkled pink, a shade of innocence that, on her, was everything but.

She was beautiful.

Truly, genuinely beautiful.

The — dare you say — most beautiful girl you'd ever seen.

Not even her bruises, faded, healing nicely, concealed but still slightly visible, marred the perfection.

God, you thought. Jesus fucking Christ!

She was so damn beautiful!

"Looks like I'm underdressed," you said, struggling to keep your voice from breaking. Willing the gasp that threatened to break free to stay down, to not embarrass you.

She'd invited you over because she owed you. Because you were her friend and she wanted to show her gratitude, however much you insisted she didn't have to.

This was a friend date.

Just a friend date, you reminded yourself. Repeated it a few more times for it to sink in.

She was gorgeous and your body reacted to her in unpredictable ways, but she was still just your friend.

A friend who'd, up until a few days ago, been in an abusive relationship. Who'd been beaten so badly she could barely walk and still bore the marks as reminders.

The last thing she needed was you drooling over her like a hormone-ridden fangirl at a boy band concert.

You knew better than that.

She deserved better than that.

"Nonsense," Rowena chided. She looked you over, took in your jeans and shirt that, while far from fancy, were clean and neat. The nicest ones you had. "You look fabulous." You blushed. "Besides, this is our wee party. Just the two of us."

She had a point.

"You're in an awfully good mood."

"How could I not be? It's my first party with a real friend." A flicker of something sad passed her face for a moment, quickly smoothed out by a bright, happy smile. Honest to the bone. "We are going to have so much fun!"

You knew you would.

Hell, even sitting in silence with a math textbook in your lap would be a good time as long as she was there.

Nothing could possibly be boring with Rowena around.

She led you to her room, and this time you did gasp, embarrassingly loud. Candles covered every corner, every surface, every naked piece of furniture. Even with the lights out, the room was lit up as if sun itself were shining through it, filling it up with its warm light.

"Jesus," you said, unable to hide your surprise. "You really are making this a date."

Rowena shrugged, feigning innocence. "I thought, why not go all the way?" She winked. "Only the best for my friend, aye?"

Friend.

Right.

Just a friend, you reminded yourself. Just a friend.

"You're sure Crowley and your mom won't come home early or something? I don't want them to take this the wrong way."

Like that you were on a date date.

Which this was not.

"Positive. And even if they do come," she said with a shrug, "so what? Let them think what they want."

"I know, but Crowley… he's not really the biggest fan of our friendship. What if—"

"I'll deal with Fergus, if necessary," she cut in. "What we do in the privacy of my bedroom is none of his business."

You gulped.

Why did she have to say it like that?

"As for my mother, don't worry. She likes you."

The few times you met her she certainly did leave that impression, but still. What if she wasn't okay with her daughter being on a date with a girl? Would she believe it was only a friend date? Would she care?

"I know. I just…"

"You're nervous," Rowena guessed. Correctly. "Don't be. This is our night. Let's have some fun, shall we?"

You gave a nod, and she grinned.

"Have a bite." She pointed to the bed, where several bowls of different snacks laid, full to the brim.

You took a chip. "Since when do you like snacks?"

"I don't. But I know you do."

Warmth swelled up in your chest.

"What kind of a host would I be if I didn't feed my star guest?"

"Oh, now I'm a star?" you joked.

"Aye. This is your night. Can't let you go hungry, can I?" She scrunched up her face adorably and added, "As disgusting as those things are."

"Shut up!" You grabbed a few and shoved them in your mouth, prompting her to gag. "They're awesome."

"You're a pig."

It was an obvious joke, a quip that was pure teasing, no malice behind it.

Once upon a time she would have meant it. Would have called you that and looked at you as if you were a filthy peasant.

My, how far the two of you had come.

"Is that any way to treat a guest?" you asked, feigning offense.

"Just being honest, dear."

"Mean."

She shrugged nonchalantly and walked over to her bedside table that was lined with bottles that didn't look like juice and glasses that definitely weren't for juice. "Up for a drink?"

"What you got?"

"Scotch. Wine. Champagne." She poured herself a glass of yellow liquid that you assumed was scotch. It certainly wasn't iced tea.

"I dunno. I don't really drink."

"Come on! Live a little, lass! It's not every day that you celebrate New Year with me."

When she put it like that…

You sighed. "Fine. Give me whatever you're having."

She smirked. "Excellent choice."

"How'd you get all this?"

"Mother got it for me." She handed you your glass. "She thinks the drinking age in this country is ridiculous. In Scotland I wouldn't even have to ask for permission." She scoffed. "I'm a bloody adult. I should be allowed to drink if I want."

She wasn't wrong.

"Does your mom know I'm here?"

She nodded. "I told her I was in need of a friend. She was very understanding."

"And she's cool with it?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Because you were in love with her.

Because this date looked way too romantic for it to be just friendly.

Because, as hard as you worked to keep yourself in control, you still wanted her, badly, madly, wildly, and you couldn't stand the thought of someone — anyone, especially her mother — figuring it out by sheer luck.

Because… she was a girl, and so were you, and you didn't know what her mother would think if she were to realize you had feelings for her daughter.

The world was still a dangerous place for people like you. Unpredictable. You never knew what to expect.

You shrugged.

Rowena sighed. "Like I said, she likes you. She thinks you're a good influence."

You had to chuckle at that. "Me?"

You may not have been as wild as Rowena, but you were far from an innocent flower.

"Well, she's not wrong," Rowena said, a teasing smirk playing on her mouth. "You're a good girl."

Far from it.

Good girls rarely existed. Most of them were bad in their own ways; by following their own rules, living their own lives.

Being tamer didn't make you good — it just made you better at pretending.

"Have you met me?" you asked and took a sip of your scotch. Your face twisted with disgust as you swallowed the bitter liquid, even more so as it burned its way down your throat like molten fire.

"Case in point," Rowena said smugly.

"Oh, fuck you," you said, coughing, and lowered your glass next to the bottle. "You know I don't drink." She quirked up an eyebrow, another gotcha. Shit. "Just because I don't drink doesn't mean I'm a good girl."

"Are you saying you're bad?"

"Shades of grey."

"Right."

"If I was oh-so-good, I wouldn't hang out with you," you pointed out in irritation.

"Even good girls experiment," Rowena said nonchalantly.

"Trust me, honey," you said, "if I was experimenting, it wouldn't be with you. You aren't exactly my type."

A lie you had to say for the truth was, as much as you didn't want to admit it, she was exactly your type. Fierce. Sassy. Tough. Gorgeous. A little bit damaged. Imperfect, which made her perfect in your eyes.

"Och?" She didn't seem convinced, stepping over towards you and getting in your face. She was so close you could feel her breath in your skin; fresh, minty, a cool, misty dance over your skin. It made you shiver. "And what is your type?"

You.

Everything about you.

Her hair, always tamed, every strand in place. Red as the fire in her soul.

Her eyes, green as forests, sly as a cat's.

Her hands, so little, sprinkled with protruding veins, nails always glittering a different color.

Her accent that was charm personified.

Her patience.

Her kindness.

Her hidden depths.

In one word — her.

All of her.

But you couldn't admit that. It was too soon. It would always be too soon, the wrong time.

A classy girl like her could never possibly be interested in a nobody girl like you.

In a feigned burst of confidence, you said, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I'm a woman of knowledge," Rowena purred deliciously, the words melting on her mouth.

Shit.

You licked your lips. "A girl, you mean."

"A woman. Of knowledge and needs. So many of them."

You gulped. Heat pooled in your belly, sliding lower, itching at places you couldn't — didn't dare — touch for doing so would expose your secret, your feelings, and, if that were to happen, you would be screwed — and not in the way you wanted.

"Well," you said, hoping to high heavens your voice wouldn't betray you, "I'm a woman of secrets."

"That's naughty."

So are you, but you don't see complaining.

"It's a fact," you said with a shrug. "Deal with it?"

"Should I?" She licked her lips, her tongue a bright pink against the lipstick. Taunting. Inviting."Or should I do something about it?"

Was she flirting?

Were you imagining it, or was she flirting?

She was.

The realization hit you like a slap straight across your face, sharp and precise.

Rowena MacLeod; the girl of your dreams; the one you'd been wanting for so long was flirting with you.

Openly.

Without a touch of shame, of hesitation.

It was as natural to her as breathing was.

But… why?

Aside from kindness, you had nothing to offer. You weren't popular, and neither were your friends. You had no money. No power. No influence of any kind. Your family wasn't rich. You weren't ugly, but you were far from beautiful; plain as day, one could say. A girl with the body and face that blended in with the crowds, no different, no more special than a random passerby. Average in everything, from grades to looks.

Far from the glamor Rowena craved.

So why?

Was she messing with you?

Or was she flirting to get her mind off what she'd gone through; the beating, the breakup, the loss of a girl she'd considered a friend?

Yes.

That was most likely it.

She was still hurting, and she wanted the pain to go away, wanted to forget all the bad and horrible.

She wasn't really interested in you.

She was in pain, and you were there.

That was all there was to it.

"How about we watch a movie?" you suggested, trying to hide the hurt in your voice.

You wanted her, so badly your heart ached, but you couldn't give in. She was hurting and flirting was her way of getting it under control. She probably wasn't even into you; you were just here, and you were safe. Someone she knew wouldn't harm her. So she went for it.

As much as you loved her, craved her like she was a drug, you had to stand your ground. Had to resist, no matter how hard it was. The last thing you wanted was to take advantage of her in this fragile state.

Rowena sighed, exasperated. She rolled her eyes. "Fine. If that's what you want."

Her tone made it clear it wasn't what she wanted.

"You promised me there'd be a movie," you reminded her.

"I suppose I did." She took a sip of her scotch before lowering her glass next to yours and grabbing her laptop. "I know you don't like classics. And I don't like horror. So I thought we could compromise."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you heard of a wee movie called Nosferatu?"

"Yeah."

Who hadn't?

She smirked. "That's our movie."

Nice.

Not exactly what you expected, but nice.

"You sure you're gonna be fine?" you taunted. "I heard it's very scary."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, dear. I can take care of myself."

Or she would be scared and grab your hand again, as if her life depended on it.

You were okay with that.

Maybe you got scared as well and squeezed her hand.

Maybe this time she could be your savior.

Rowena placed the laptop on the foot of the bed. She moved the bowls of snacks on the floor and crawled on the bed, then motioned for you to join her.

Your heart thundered as you took a seat next to her. The bed was small, and you had to snuggle against one another. Her skin was warm against yours, the fabric of her dress soft as the gentlest caress.

She leaned into you and you reciprocated, linking your arm through hers. As the movie started, she tightened her hold and pressed further against you.

You held her tightly.

As a friend.

Wishing she were your lover and knowing she couldn't be.

As expected, Rowena got scared. She twitched and gasped, dug her nails into your arm as she held on as if for dear life. At one point she buried her head in your chest, and you threw an arm around her and held her close. It didn't matter that the danger wasn't real; you arm remained around her, a wordless promise of safety, of protection.

"Scaredy cat," you teased.

"Shut up," she retorted, voice muffled as her face remained pressed against your chest.

There were a few times when you flinched. She noticed each and every one and held on tighter, her own little assurance that you were safe.

You kept sipping on your drink throughout the movie. Rowena did the same, when she wasn't hiding in your chest. She seemed to be handling it well for her size; a lightweight she was not. You, on the other hand, started feeling the buzz after finishing your second glass.

By the time the movie ended, the two of you had pushed your glasses aside and instead took swigs straight out of the bottle, passing it between you like a volleyball.

"You'll turn me into an alcoholic," you said after taking a large pull. The drink burned at your throat as strongly as the first time, but by now you were used to it. You were almost craving the sensation of fire sliding down your throat, scorching your insides, setting you alight.

Alight you were!

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, skin tight on your bones. Hot. Too hot. Words jumbled in your head, twisted, split apart and flew back together until they lost their meaning. The room was spinning, running in circles.

It felt as if you were in a dream, one that was both good and bad. A perfect mixture of a nightmare and a pleasant fantasy.

Drunk.

That was what you were.

And, unusual as it was for you, you kind of liked it.

There were no rules tonight. No laws. No regulations. Just you and Rowena alone in her room, living the best life.

It was only for one night, but you intended to live it to the fullest.

"I never put the bottle in your hands," Rowena said, taking the bottle from you and gulping down. "That's all on you, dear."

You took the bottle back and drank some more. "You offered me drinks."

She reclaimed it. Hissed as the liquor bit at her throat. "It's a New Year celebration, for goodness' sake! Not a bloody slumber party!"

You laughed, an unexpected outburst. "You say 'bloody' really funny."

"Shut up!" She smacked your arm.

It only prompted you to erupt into giggles. "Your accent is funny. And hot. Really hot."

You may have crossed a line there, but who cared?

As she said, it was the New Year celebration.

No rules.

No lines.

No holding back.

Rowena snickered at your comment, then, smirking, said, "I know." An idea suddenly popped into her mind. "You know what we should do?"

You had an inkling of what you might do and you didn't like it one bit. "If you say 'watch another movie,' I'll kill you."

Nosferatu, however scary at times, was a bore fest for the most part. If it weren't for her snuggling with you and your mind constantly coming up with rather raunchy images every time her hold on you would tighten as if to remind you she was there, that she needed you, you would have fallen asleep.

A classics lover, you were not. Not even when it came to horror.

Rowena pouted. "I planned for us to watch Dracula."

"The Bela Lugosi one?"

She looked at you as if you were slow. Which, considering the amount of alcohol flooding your veins, you probably were. "Which else?" Before you could bring up a few other — modern — incarnations, she said, "That's not what I meant."

You frowned. "What then?"

"Dance!"

She sounded so happy, it hurt to turn her down. "I can't dance."

"But I can."

"Ballet."

"Aye. Up until—" she looked you in the eyes, remembering the lie she'd fed you "—eighth grade."

"It's fine," you said in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, but, due to you slurring your words, it came off curt. Almost rude. "Crowley told me ages ago."

Normally, that would have led to a discussion, but now Rowena just narrowed her eyes suspiciously, looked you over, and, finally, nodded. "My brother needs to learn to keep his mouth shut. Anyway, I didn't do just ballet. I used to attend dance classes when I was younger. Still got the moves."

She purred the last bit deliciously. You couldn't resist a grin.

"Look at you! Tiny dancer." You burst into laughter at your own horrible joke. "Literally."

She smacked your arm lightly.

You pouted. "Ow."

She gave you a look, one of those judgmental ones that made you straighten up your act. Then she held her hands up to you and said, "Come on."

"Fine, Tiny Dancer."

It wasn't like you had anything to lose.

Rowena rolled her eyes. "Och, hush."

You took her hands, allowed her to pull you to her, to hold you against her. Her arms wrapped around you and she leaned her head on your shoulder as if to rest. She was warm. Soft. Fit perfectly into the curve of your body, like a piece of puzzle created solely for you. Her heart beat against your chest; soft, gentle little patters. Yours beat along; same rhythm, same pace, as if synchronized.

Your arms slid around her to reciprocate. You melted into the embrace, into the warmth she gave off, radiant as a sun. Your little shining star in the candlelit room.

Rowena started swaying, and your nerves exploded like fireworks. Tingles washed over your body as if a million fire ants were crawling underneath your skin, hot and cold all at once.

"What kind of dance is this?"

You were expecting something faster, wilder. More tango than waltz.

"Ours," she replied.

"What about the music?"

"We'll make our own."

Giving a slight nod, you followed her movements, slow, careful, gentle as the way she held you. Music sounded in the distance, followed be screeches and shouts. The town was celebrating, full of life. Ready to welcome the new year in all its glory.

You ignored it; ignored the noise, the needless distraction. Instead, your foggy mind focused on Rowena. On her skin on yours. On her lips, gentle, plump, pressed into your shoulder. On her hands, so small, so delicate, on your back. On her fingers tracing lines over your shirt. On her soft breathing and the beats of her heart.

It was as if nothing else existed but the two of you. All alone, drunk out of your minds, arms tight around one another. You, head over heels in love. Her, in desperate need of a friend, of affection.

Birds of a feather.

Made for each other.

ONE…

The exclamation shook you from your thoughts. The New Year was getting near, the town starting its counting, leading you to it.

TWO…

"Already?" you asked. Time had gone by so fast. It still felt as if it was nine o'clock and you were freezing your ass off out at the door.

"Mmhm," Rowena muttered.

THREE…

"This was a wild year, wasn't it?"

"We've become quite fond of each other, haven't we?" she said in agreement.

I fell in love with you, you wanted to say, and it took everything for your drunk mind to keep it to itself for it wanted nothing but to blurt it out, loud and clear for the entire town to hear.

FOUR…

"Yup," you said, tongue itching to spill the truth that was driving you mad. "Quite fond."

Rowena pulled back. Her eyes locked with yours in a gaze so intense you got lost in it. A moment passed by in silence, maddening, deafening, before she uttered, "I'm very fond of you."

FIVE…

What was she trying to say?

Was she…?

No way!

No way in hell!

Your forehead fell to hers, the contact sending electric sparks through you. "Rowena…"

SIX…

She fluttered her eyes. Licked her lips like she was daring you to kiss them.

God, you were tempted!

"Very, very fond."

She was.

Good god, she was flirting.

She wanted to kiss you.

Panic shot through you, urged your heart to rush. Should you give in? Should you kiss her? Or should you push her away?

What were you supposed to do?

SEVEN…

You wanted to kiss her.

You'd been wanting it for what felt like ages.

But was it right?

Did she really want it, or was she just trying to get over Lucifer?

Would she use you as a sort of a rebound?

Would you let her use you?

Would it be right?

"I…"

I love you. I love you so much, it hurts!

Did she love you, too?

Did you care?

You wanted her — god, you wanted her so much. Your heart hammered with it, the need growing stronger with each beat.

It was too soon to pursue her. She was still vulnerable, still bore the bruises both physically and mentally.

But if she pursued you…

Would it be wrong to give in? To let her have you the way she wanted?

EIGHT…

You looked her in the eyes again. Stared straight into the very depths of her soul.

"Are-are you sure?"

"Aye."

There was power in that one word. Conviction beyond doubt.

You believed it.

Believed her.

Believed the honesty in her eyes

NINE…

She wanted you.

Really, truly wanted you.

Out of confusion or genuine affection, you couldn't tell.

To your surprise, you found you didn't care.

She wanted you.

You wanted her.

That was all that mattered.

What did it matter why?

She was here. Offering what you'd been craving on a silver platter.

She was drunk, yes, but so were you. And, unlike you, she knew how to handle her liquor.

The whiskey, along with making you woozy, had given you a burst of courage.

You would be a fool not to take it.

But what if you were taking advantage?

What if she was?

TEN!

Who cared?

It was a one time only chance.

Your dream come true.

Your fantasy come to life.

So what if you were inebriated?

You wanted her — loved her — all the same. More even.

And she was yours for the taking.

Why give her up when you could finally have her?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Sucking in a breath for courage, you gripped Rowena's shoulders, pulled her to you, and pressed your mouth to hers.

The consequences be damned.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @tasyahilker @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

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I LOVED THIS EPISODE! It was nice to have a kid-focused episode. The past few have focused a lot on the adults, so it was nice to see the kids in the spotlight again. It was SO COOL to see the kids playing off each other. We NEED more of it next season. Lena is my daughter, so I was happy to see her back, though I’d rather she not have to suffer.

Spoilers and more detailed thoughts below:

YAY NERF GUNS! Also, it was super sweet of the boys to reassure Lena that they know she’s a good guy now. 

LOVED all the different jammies on display. I usually rock something similar to Lena and Violet. Dewey in the footie pajamas gives me LIFE. And Huey with his hat. I’m surprised he didn’t say something along the lines of “Warm head, warm dreams.”

Super cute that Lena set this all up. My baby wants friends.

“Self defense weapons, all manner of booby trap.” I feel like Violet would have suggested having those no matter what. I love my slightly feral nerd daughter.

Beakley for BEST bodyguard.

“Nothing weird is gonna happen at this slumber party.” Webby, babe, you’re just ASKING for trouble.

Lena’s little song and cake! MY HEART! I think Huey may have drawn some inspiration from that cake, lol

“Time loses all meaning in the infinite night of the shadow realm.” HELP THIS CHILD! And again, I think Donald would be the perfect parent for her.

“You are a wordsmith!” Webby LOVES her shadow gf.

THE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS! AND THEY MATCHED EACH KID! HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THIS GIRL!

Of course Louie is suspicious. He was wary of his mom AND just spent the last episode getting betrayed by Goldie.

“You literally sound like that now.” Huey, you need to learn how to read a room.

“That’s just my voice, I can’t help it!” I feel ya there. And a nice bit of foreshadowing

“I’ve found it’s clearer to convey no emotion whatsoever.” Also not a good way to talk to people.

Aw, Lena. Like Webby said, you don’t have to prove yourself. That seems to be a running theme this season. Dewey wants to prove himself to his mom, Louie wants to prove himself to anyone, and Della wants to prove that she is a good mom and fits into this family.

“That makes you super-extra-good, right?” “Math checks out.” You two share one (1) brain cell and that’s adorable.

Webby has no table manners and that is valid.

“LET’S EAT PURE SUGAR!” That is just a bad idea in general, much less for Huey.

What happened to Huey? Why was his mouth all grey?

“You know who my best friend is?” “Me.” “Sleep.” A.) Mood, B.) Dewey’s face is PRICELESS! You can’t win them all.

Sleeping Beakley is TERRIFYING.

“It might be sleepy-time.” Webby, you are TOO PRECIOUS!

Anyone getting some Nightmare on Elm Street vibes? Specifically the third one? I guess that was what they were going for, what with the title and all.

Concerned girlfriend is concerned.

MY POOR BABY! HASN’T SHE SUFFERED ENOUGH?!

“Do you need, *whispers* you-know-what paper?” Not sure if Beakley told her toilet isn’t something you should go around saying or if Webby doesn’t want to embarrass anyone. Either way, cute!

Lena pulls of Dewey’s do well.

One of the most precious moments ever! And a reminded that they are still pretty young.

WEBBY IS SUCH A GOOD FRIEND/GIRLFRIEND! *happy tears*

LOVED the shot of Lena with the stars reflected in her eyes.

Heck, the animation for all the dreams is AMAZING! I love how you can INSTANTLY TELL whose dream we’re in.

I’m glad they figured out that they were in a shared dream early. Gives us more time for wacky dream shenanigans!

Webby/hamburgers is otp

I like that they used the “you can’t read in dreams” thing. Nice touch. It looks like at least Launchpad, Scrooge, and Donald had a corresponding emoji.

“Why are you dialing a banana?” DREAM LOGIC!

SWORD HORSE!

Webby CANONLY kins Scrooge!

EXTREMELY EXTREME OBSTACLE COURSE

Louie putting a stop to unicorn shenanigans before they begin.

Those directions. Better than Penny’s at least.

Violet is blunt and to the point. She’s probably a Virgo.

LIVING for all the cartoony sound effects!

POOR LENA! AND YAY SUPPORTIVE WEBBY! Also, love Louie in the background being confused as fuck.

That cute little smile! I WOULD DIE FOR LENA!

I don’t think the whole “don’t wake a sleepwalker” thing is actually valid in real life, but here it’s probably a goodish idea. Magic is weird and unpredictable.

“LET’S FLY, BECAUSE WE CAAAAAAN!” I like the way you think. I love that Louie’s wings have dollar signs. And Lena’s bat wings are DOPE.

“I HATE WALKING!” Louie is MOOD.

Huey and Dewey crashing, lol

That unicorn got DEEP. And I now crackship him and Manny.

Lena walked into Snow White.

“I probably grew horrible bat wings for non-evil reasons.” It’s because you are a baby goth.

“I ATE A BUG!” Dewey, you are a special boy and that’s valid.

“Ew, Webby, why is there a school in your dream?” Again, Louie is MOOD.

Ugh, I wish I could make out what the sign in front of the school says. I see EXCELLENCE though.

Dewey CONFIRMED HSM fan. And I’m getting some Saved By The Bell vibes. He’s binged ALL the high school classics. This is probably how Mabel dreamed high school would look like before the crushing slap of reality hit her.

His hair and jacket. Too cute, expect for his hair being alive. That was freaky. I fear for him when he learns what high school is actually like.

His song. Dewey is in for HEARTBREAK. LIVE YOUR DREAM WHILE YOU CAN!

I know most people are going with Dewey is bi after the whole romantic interest thing, but I feel like he might be aro/ace. Dewey is threatened by choosing a romantic partner. I’ve kind of always seen him as ace though, so it might just be me. Or it could be him trying to figure out his sexuality, which is cool. I love that the crew threw that in. The boy is not straight in any way though.

I love that Dewey’s singing rivals are Beagle Boys.

“Who knows what that’s about?” “I have some theories.” SYMBOLISM!

Dewey Dude is upsetting even BEFORE it turned into Magica.

The balance between comedy and STRAIGHT UP HORROR was handled well.

Lena has watched Wizard of Oz.

“You ruined my big dance!” Priorities, Dewey. Louie looks relieved though.

Dewey’s hair looked super cute when it was wet.

Why did he and Lena taste the water? Is there some sort of significance there?

“I just failed a class called Dew-ology.” “Well I’m the class Dew-torian.” That’s stretching it, Dewey.

“I gotta get outta here.” Haha, Dewey’s dream is Huey’s nightmare.

Louie-field. I WANT PLUSHIES. Also, Louie confirmed furry?

“This is your dream? To be even lazier?” Don’t be a hater, Huey! Louie’s got the right idea.

Wonder if Beakley taking care of Louie-field means anything.

Seriously, Huey is SUCH a hater! He wants out of Dewey’s dream and he mocks Louie’s.

“HOW ARE YOU SLEEP-SLEEPING?” Don’t hate cause you ain’t. Also, I have napped in a dream once so....

Louie’s sleep face is MAJESTIC. HE’S BEAUTY, HE’S GRACE.

“I just am.” Louie is so wise.

Wolf Lena is BEST

Violet, there is a better way to talk about people’s psychological issues.

Why would you choose the litter box?

“WHY, HUEY, WHY?!” No arguments here.

I’m the eldest sibling like Huey and I’m the shortest of the three of us, so I get you, Huey. But there are better, cooler, less upsetting ways to manifest that dream. Like switching bodies with a tall person.

His legs make rubber band noises when he moves.

“Don’t listen to him! Follow your lame dreams.” What a supportive brother.

Huey’s dream is Dewey’s nightmare. Nice.

I too use my feet to do things, like opening doors or getting stuff off the floor. But opening jars of FOOD?! UNSANITARY AND YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

Someone is a Spinel fanboy.

Or is he Slender-Huey?

“And it’s my dream to be in a montage.” While it is pretty dope, why does Dewey get two dreams?! Greedy little bastard. Are we sure he’s not the evil triplet, lol.

HERE’S HOW PHOOEY CAN WIN! Liked that they implied he’s the evil one. He’s a yellow, less 90s Dippy Fresh.

JUST SAY NO TO PHOOEY! His name means the f-word.

MORE DRAGON BALL Z!

NERD ALERT! 

Huey has found a kindred soul.

I like that Violet even has Quackfaster as a librarian.

“It’s almost 6am!” Your old man is showing. Sidenote-I tend to wake up around 6. I’m old.

“Go get some jobs!” Scrooge, do you know about child labor laws?

This is the second episode of this set that Scrooge comes off as a bit of a prick.

POOR LENA! At least all the kids care about her. The poor girl needs some friends.

“She’s gonna be cold without her sweater!” His heart’s in the right place.

I love that all the kids jump in after Webby immediately. NEVER LEAVE A MAN BEHIND.

Louie just spinning in the background.

“I think this is more nightmare.” Thank you, Captain Obvious.

I want that castle as a playset.

Good lord this scene was hard to watch. It reminded me a lot of Raven in Ever After High (and Teen Titans Raven too). She’s so afraid of being predestined to become evil that it’s consuming her to the point that she can’t see anything else and feels stuck. Some of this really hit close to home for me because I deal with depression and anxiety and when a big episode hits it’s hard to find my way out. Luckily, just like Lena, I have a good support system.

 Magica gaslighting Lena was really upsetting to see.

Lena becoming Magica then a literal monster? LET MY DAUGHTER HAVE PEACE!

“Ugh, why does everything I say sound sarcastic?” Callback

Was that a hint at a Gargoyles reboot? I JOKE TO EASE THE PAIN!

#youtriedDewey

Dewey’s spinny eyes, lol

Webby is most competent fighter

Poor Louie. The past two episode have not been kind to him physically.

Lena will ALWAYS be there for Webby.

POOR LENA!

HURRAY FOR SUPPORTIVE FRIENDS!

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC, BITCH!

“It’s fine, FINE!” Just wait for puberty, Huey. It will be slightly less disturbing.

I TOTALLY CALLED THAT THIS WAS A PLOT FOR MAGICA TO GET HER POWERS BACK! YAY FOR BEING RIGHT!

Magica is meth aunt.

“I don’t need you. You need me!” THAT’S MY GIRL!

FERAL

I bet Magica is gonna lie about still having powers so she can get close enough to Lena to regain her powers and stab everyone in the back. Whether or not she succeeds... 

Boyd and Lena should start a club. The “I thought/felt like I was a real, flesh and blood being, had an existential crises over it, and am trying to deal with my evil relative” club. Huey’s the moderator, he’s working on his consoling badge.

[my-personal-writing-wonderland]

You truly are something else

Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Warnings: self doubts, one or two slightly sexual references and Joffrey being Joffrey in the future chapters

Summary: You’re the younger sister of Margaery Tyrell and you accompany her to Kingslanding. Since you are a child you feel inferior to your sister and the fact that she is about to get married once again doesn’t really help to build your self-confidence. You dream of a man who loves you for who you are and makes you feel special but are you able to find love in a city reigned by a tyrant like Joffrey?

A/n: This is my first game of thrones series, so I hope it’s alright. There will probably be five or six chapters. Sandor is likely to be very ooc, so please be gracious.

Important: Sandor didn’t leave Kingslanding during the battle of blackwater in this story.

(Pictures aren’t mine)

Your POV:

What did this stupid man think he’s doing? Interrupting your conversation as if the kings guard (which name you still sadly don’t know) didn’t even exist. If there is something you truly hate it’s noble man looking down at others only because they aren’t as high born as them. Finally, you had the chance to talk to someone who seems interesting. Someone who’s different than the rest and doesn’t seem to care about all the superficialities the others around you seem to love so much… and than this over confident lord had to interrupt you two. Normally, you would have smiled it off like the noble lady you are but for some reasons, you couldn’t hold yourself back this time.

No matter how important it is for your house, you will never marry someone as self-righteous as him.

Sandors POV:

The next few days Sandor catches himself admiring you from afar. He immediately notices you beside your sister. You look stunning to him no matter what you are wearing. You’re beautiful in a natural way, without styled hair or extraordinary jewellery. Without even talking to you he learned much about your personality. One day he catches you walking around the halls when a young male servant, maybe 15 or 16 years old, walks past you, trips and accidentally spilled some wine over your dress.

The boy is beyond frightened, knowing the punishment if this happened with Joffrey or Cersei would be severe. But you just laugh, see it with humour and guarantee the poor boy that it’s fine, you will just change your dress. The servant can’t even believe that he won’t be punished for what happened and apologized as well as thanked you again and again, even after you told him it’s really fine and no problem at all.

He saw how kind hearted you were to the servants. You always thank your handmaiden and the others around you like it’s the most natural thing to do, like everyone treats their footman like that.

Once again he realizes you truly are something else. Not that it matters, right? There is no way you would be interested in someone like him. A guard dog with nothing to offer. House Clegane isn’t wealthy or powerful. It’s a house only born to serve.

Your POV:

Today you are forced to have dinner with Margaery and the king. There is nothing you would rather avoid than spending time with this spoiled child. You have no idea how your sister can listen to him all day, the little time you had to spend with him during your stay in Kingslanding was more than enough for you. But you can’t just say no to a king, a cruel unpredictable one nonetheless.

So you make your way to the gardens where you’re supposed to meet them. You’re not surprised to spot the Hound next to the king, as loyal and observing as ever.

The last few days you noticed he spends his free time without any company. Every time he doesn’t stand next to the king, he is alone. The thought he could be lonely makes you sad. You wish you had the chance to approach him but your grandmother and brother kept you rather busy the last few days, mostly talking about engagement offers from some lords and knights. But you don’t want a man who rather sends your family an offer than talking to you in person. Are really all man this pathetic?

Speaking of pathetic, during the dinner Joffrey makes it his duty to put you down with hurtful remarks.

‘Say (y/n), how is it possible that your sister already had a marriage and now marries again while you’re still alone. Isn’t it embarrassing for you that you bring shame over your whole house?’

'If you continue to eat so much it’s no surprise you will never get a husband. You’re lucky your family is wealthy, otherwise you would never find a man.’

'Your sister told me your grandmother already tried to marry you off. I bet she would be glad to finally find a man desperate enough to marry you. I mean he would have to live with you while having your more beautiful sister right next to him. That’s a shame for every man. Luckily for me, I’m a king. I’m able to demand to get the pretty sister and no one can say something against it.’

All you wanted to do is cry but with all your power you try to hold the tears in. But according to Joffreys stupid smirk your face shows exactly how he makes you feel.

Hurt. Angry. Embarrassed.

Who does he think he is? Being a king shouldn’t give him the right to talk to you like that. You would love to slap some sense into this stupid brat and scream your opinion right in his face but you know you and your family would suffer for an outburst like that. So you stay silent and try your best to endure his hurtful words, like they don’t kill you from the inside. You already know you can’t compare to Margaery so you don’t need someone to remind you about that.

During the dinner your eyes focus on the cup before you, you don’t even dare to look at the Hound, scared to see something on his face that indicates he sees you exactly like Joffrey. You don’t even want to think about it. You just want this dinner to be over before you can’t hold back your tears any longer.

Almost as if the gods heard your prayers a servant comes and tells Joffrey his presence is required in the small council room. There seems to be a problem but you don’t understand what it’s about because of the servants quiet stuttering. Not that it matters, anyway. As long as Joffrey leaves you couldn’t care less.

And thank the gods, after a few moments the boy king says his goodbye and leaves without another mean comment towards you.

Before your sister has the chance to say something you run away from the gardens, back into the castle. You can’t hold in the tears any longer and in the moment you really don’t want the kings guard to see you cry like a little child. You would hate crying in front of people, most of all in front of a strong warrior like the Hound.

Therefore, you follow the next best idea that comes to mind: crying while sitting on some stairs and hoping no one will find you there. Without noticing your feet carried you to an rather umbusy side of the castle, so with some luck you’re able to hate yourself in peace without curious looks from others. No matter how hard you try to fight your doubts you can’t stop thinking about how much happier you would be if you looked like your sister. Since you were a child everyone compared you to her, so of course you started to feel inferior to her. Because of your sobs you don’t even hear someone approaching you. Only when you see a pair of boots right in front of you, you notice you’re not alone. 

Shocked, you look up only to see the face of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about these last days.

Why is he here? Did Joffrey send him to accomplish you back to him, only for him to bully you some more? Or does he want to continue making fun of you just like his king did a few moments ago?

You truly don’t know how much more you can stand today, you feel like you’re drowning in your negative thoughts. So why can’t he leave you alone?

The moment you look at him to tell him to fuck off you see something in his eyes which you never saw before in them. Compassion. Compassion and sympathy, like he knows exactly what’s going through your head in this moment. You’re unable to recall the last person who looked at you like that and even through you barely know this man, you feel strangely at ease in his presence.

Like everything will be alright.

'You shouldn’t cry because of a cunt like him.’, he breaks the silence after a minute or two. If you didn’t know it better you would say he looks rather uncomfortable. As if he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or where to look while talking.

'Is it clever to talk about your king like that?’

'Idon’t give a fuck. Just because I stop calling him a cunt doesn’t make him one any less.’

At that you can’t hold back a smile. 'Yeah, that’s probably true. Don’t worry I won’t tell him. In fact, I will do my best to avoid him as best as possible.’

'Won’t be easy once your sister marries him.’ His face turnes serious again, you begin to think it’s probably his usual look. 'You need to ignore him. Everyone in the court has to live with him and his temper.’, he continues with a grunt.

Talking with him feels surprisingly refreshing. It’s different than with all the other lords and ladies in Kingslanding. He freely speaks his mind without a second thought, a characterist you cherish a lot in people.

'Easier said than done, I guess. It has to be hard to work for him everyday.’

'Well and that’s why I drink.’

You have to laugh at his answer. That’s not what you expected him to say but it definitely lightens up your mood.

This man truly is something else.

[whalien-imagines]

The Love Experiment

Experiment AU!

WoozixReader!

Word Count:+2.8K

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I should be finishing my final papers but instead I did this... send help. 

Everyone sat in the auditorium, eagerly waiting for the presenter to take the stage. Jihun was known for the most exciting speeches. This year was no different. They knew he wasn’t going to fail them this time. Soon the room lights as dimmed down as the stage lights were all focused on him. His stage presence was so... dominating. It didn’t need to beg for attention, instead is naturally grabbed the eyes of everyone. 

That’s all Jihun needed. He walked down to the middle of the stage and looked behind to make sure his powerpoint wasn’t on yet. He believed in the element of surprise was more important.  

Here goes nothing, he thought.  

“Love. It makes people happy and crazy. It has the birds singing and the people grasping for it at every moment. However, is it really a magical moment that happens like the movies?” He paused, adding effect. “No, it’s fucking not.”

Everyone jumped at his accusation. 

Jihun smiled, he hoped for that very reaction. He continued, “Well you all know that the process of falling in love is simple. It’s the series of chemicals that have us feeling euphoric and... well other things. What I’m here to talk about in this series is about an experiment that I conducted last year. With the social experiment, I used thousands of volunteers but I’m going to only explain 1 case tonight. It’s the very special case of a close somebody.”

-1 year ago-

The clock was ticking. It was the only thing making noise in the otherwise silent room. Jihun was watching how you reacted to the silent, since it scared most future patients away. This experiment needed the best of the best, Jihun thought. 

However, you were still comfortable as ever. 

If anything, it worried him on how unfazed you were acting. 

“So, when are you going to interview for this?” You asked, suppressing all the anxiousness that was building up inside. The only thing that kept you from completely breaking down was the only thing that college students are thinking of...

Money. 

This whole thing was paying you enough to stay financially stable until the next experiment science has to offer. You needed it since recently your roommate had hit you with the moving out card, leaving you with not enough time to find a new roommate and left you instead with a new found debt. It was a terrible move from their part, but luckily you saw the flyer for this project and decided that you were healthy, young, and ready for anything crazy. 

Jihun shifted in his seat and nodded, beginning the interview. He watched as you answered everything quickly, creating a rhythm in how everything was going. He was interest on how quickly you took control of everything. Your answers were unpredictable and show

Surprisingly, he liked it.

So much that decided to do something crazy.

“Well, Miss (y/n), you seem to be a perfect candidate for our project. I will email you later tonight and explain what you will be doing as a patient.” The both of you stood up and Jihun led you over to the exit of the office. He explained that you wouldn’t end up with any psychological problem and that it’s a simple process. Before he let you completely leave, he pulled out his hand. You were a bit taken aback from this but shook his hand. You looked at him and that’s when it happened. 

The sparks. 

You suppressed the feeling and continued to act unfazed. All you could think was about how you are connecting with the experimenter and how wrong this was. You searched for any reaction from his part, but he remained just as calm. 

Before the any of you realized, you both were still holding each others hand. You quickly let go and apologized to Jihun, who in turn was smiling. It was going according to plan, he thought. 

He watched as you walked out of the building, almost too fast. 

-Present time-

“See, I introduced the patient with their new found partner. They both had completely opposite type personalities in every way. From the MBTI to their intelligences. The question was, how was science going to prove that only a few steps need to be followed to trigger the chemical change to have them believe their falling in love?” Jihun stated. He smiled, glancing at everyone and watched as his eyes fell on you. He visually tensed up, choking a bit on the suffocating hair. 

He tried to pull himself back together, he was still in front of an audience. 

“It’s a simple process really, when you first meet someone. You want hold their hand longer than expected and maintain eye contact. While that seems simple, there’s a specific time your suppose to maintain it for before it completely makes the situation awkward. Can anyone guess-”

“3 seconds.” Your voice announced. All eyes soon fell on you and you watched as Jihun struggled to maintain his cool and collected persona. It was your time for a rebuttal. “3 seconds is how long your suppose to maintain in physical and eye contact.” 

“Yes that’s correct, thank you miss...”

“(y/n).” You replied, but quietly added, “but you already knew that.” 

“Good, so in doing that. He was asked to add moments between him and the patient, creating a longer time. With this, he establish a relationship and created a process where the further increase each moment longer and longer. In turn, the patient believed that they were falling deep in love.”

-7 months ago-

You were sitting across Jihun. 

He decided to meet up at a nearby coffee shop since he was a master student at your university. It was quite odd, because he kept finding time to meet up with you. He asked about how you were and seemed to be trying to get to know you.

It felt oddly nice.

He was funny and seemed awkward at first, but after some time with you, the chemistry from before began to happen. Jihun was relieved for two reasons. One, because he needed to have this experiment work. Two, because he wanted to know you. 

He just couldn’t believe that you wanted to meet him again after the first time. One coffee date turned into 10 and soon found yourself meeting with him more often than you thought. 

Although, you still wondered when the experiment would start. 

He talked about things that were going on, and kept you interested in the conversation. It felt like you were a couple, but you weren’t complaining about it. You like spending time with him, because he would hold your hand constantly and refuse to let it go. It was adorable really because he was surprisingly touchy. 

He said he loved knowing you were there. 

The dates became more intimate, and that’s when he finally gathered up the courage to kiss you. 

It was after one of your dinner dates. Everything seemed to be going well and you were getting a little impatient for him to finally kiss. Jihun decided to drop you off at your front door. He noticed how often you were not so subtly glancing down at his lips. It made him smile, because of how impatient you were getting. That’s when he decided to finally break wall he had built and kissed you. 

It felt so... beautiful. It wasn’t a magical moment nor something like the daydreams of high schoolers, but it felt like it was moment you wouldn’t forget. 

The indimating man was so sweet and kind to you. There wasn’t a moment that you didn’t love being with him. Sure, he was very work-oriented and more serious but you knew that he had his ways of showing affection. Whether it be working in the same room with you or reading to you the stuff he was working on and asking your opinion. 

You loved him for it.

His small little smiles when you were teasing him about being serious were so gorgeous. He also loved it when you ran your fingers through his hair after a long day, telling him that he worked hard and that he did a good job. 

He was so soft sometimes, but it was something only you knew.  it was a secret you kept to yourself. 

A memorable moment was a small one. It was a time where Jihun had come from work a decided to visit you at night. A patient was causing him a hard time and all he wanted to do was get away from them. He seemed frustrated and stress, so you helped him destress by forcing him to watch an emotional movie with you. At first, he didn’t want to, but by the end the both you were holding each other and complaining about all the shit of life. 

It was just your way of making him feel comfortable. 

-Present time-

Jihun glanced at the slide that was on the screen, feeling his heart break a bit as he felt the anger radiating from you. What if he hadn’t lied? What if he had stopped the project and allowed himself to feel what he felt. Would it be worth it? Would you still feel the hurt of the experiment?

He wished he could back.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, “It wasn’t until the end that the actor had to reveal the truth, and in it we had them take a questionnaire, revealing their feelings and how they believed they fell in love.”

A hand soon was raised and both you and Jihun were surprised. It was a classmate of your. You recognized her from some of your classes as the one always asking some of the craziest questions. For whatever reason, you were glad she was going to ask a question. 

“What happened after? I mean feeling were clearly involve. If the patient fell in love and it seemed that method worked. That must have meant that the actor also fell in love,” she stated. 

Jihun tensed up at the unexpected question. Why hadn’t he thought of an ending to the story? Given that students want closure, he forgot. 

“Uh... well... to be honest that’s a part of the story that I don’t have. When the experiment ended, they had a choice to make things work out. Love may not be a magical moment like the movies, but it does give us the choice to make it feel magical. Ever patient that was a part of the experiment realized that, and learned that it’s a choice and not a feeling. Feeling can come and go but choosing to love some past those feelings is real love.”

You watched as his eyes fell on you, “I figured that feeling out when I met that certain someone as well. A very close person, whom I love dearly despite everything.” He smiled. His eyes fell back on the audience. They searched around for you, but you stayed hidden away. How would they react if they knew that a student stole the heart of their speaker? 

-3 months ago-

Jihun was a serious man, and had a cold side that hurt anyone who felt it, including you. 

At first, Jihun was saying that he was getting busy with work and couldn’t come around more often. Then there were other excuses that followed until the days where he hadn’t answered any text or call. 

You didn’t know what you did wrong. Was it something you said or something you did? There wasn’t a moment where you saw him get upset.

It wasn’t until the night he randomly showed up that you finally got a hint of what was going on. At first, you thought it was break-up, but the sad look in his eyes said something else. 

The moment Jihun saw you, he wanted to grab you and hug you so tightly as if the world was going to end. This wasn’t something that he wanted to end. Your love was something that he felt was worth it all. However, he knew how hurt you were going to be, so why not avoid the whole talk and cut off ties? 

He walked in and sat you down like the first time you met. A silence had fell in the room again, but this time it felt too heavy. There wasn’t any clock that sang to the room, nor any mystery to each other. 

It was a painful moment instead of a new beginning. 

Jihun had pulled out some paperwork for you and explained that the experiment time was over and that you as the patient had to have a final interview to finish off the final paperwork. 

That’s when a harsh reality had set in. Jihun had used you and the whole relationship for the experiment. It made you wonder if anything he felt was real, or was he just that harsh of a person?

Jihun had been waiting for the right time to mention the experiment. How the hell does one do this? It like the cliche moment you see in love stories, but this was real life. His heart was a stake, because you had become something bigger than a project. 

He sighed, “I’m sorry... I need you to keep yourself together as I conduct the final interview. Any final comments after can be said after we finish.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you agreed to the terms and held yourself together throughout the interview. He had asked detailed questions about how you felt and when you believed you fell in love with him. It felt to painful to even remember those moments. To think how naive you were to the truth. 

Jihun turned off the recording and watched as you collapsed into tears. He tried to comfort you and wanted to tell you the truth but you pushed him away. “Go away, get out! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You lied. You didn’t want him gone, nor did you really hate him. 

You wondered how hard it must have been for him to hold this secret for so long. How hurt he must been feeling at the moment. All your thoughts were wondering about him. Even though he hurt you, you still care about him. You didn’t stop loving him for something like this. 

You wished he knew how much you wanted him to stay. 

However, Jihun never did learn that sometimes you meant the opposite sometimes. You watched as Jihun gathered his things and walked out of the room for what felt like the last time. 

-Present time-

All the students applauded Jihun for his presentation and began to make their way out of the auditorium. You sat there, waiting for Jihun to notice you one last time. You swore to yourself that this was going to be the last time before you completely let go of him. 

That’s what you wanted to believe. 

Jihun finished gathering his things and glanced around the room one last time when his eyes fell on you. Instead of a glare or scowl, you smiled. His heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to face back down. He didn’t want you to see his face becoming flushed. 

You walked down to the stage and prepared yourself what you thought was the last time for you and Jihun. You didn’t want it to be. Instead, you wanted to be doting on Jihun for giving a beautiful presentation and laugh with him about his beginning. 

“You did really good up there.” You announced. He glanced back up and felt himself become so hopeful. You hadn’t changed much, but you were still so beautiful in his eyes. 

“Thank you, I was really excited to talk about it... i guess.” He hated the small talk. He wanted to know how you were doing and so much more, but he was stuck in this hell because of the decisions he made. 

He wondered if you still hated him for his actions. 

The both of you were stuck standing awkwardly on stage, trying to find something to talk about. However, all you could think of was of him admitting that he still loved you. “You... you uh mentioned earlier something about-”

He blushed, “ah that! Right, I did mention that in front of hundreds of people.” 

You smiled. Jihun was never good about talking about his feeling. You knew that, and also knew that sometimes you were the one who was having to push it out of him. 

“Jihun... I came up here thinking this was going to be my last time seeing you but you are someone I wanna keep seeing everyday again.” You watched as the shy boy looked over to you with this new found spark. “I know we had this project hurt us, but I want to try again. A new beginning really.”

“As long as I get to prove that I still love you.” He muttered. He reached for you hand and felt your warm hand intertwine with his. It felt so right to him. Maybe Jihun didn’t get the tight hug and passionate kiss like he wanted, but he just glad that he was getting another chance with you.