#more.. she was yelling and screaming at me for what felt like an eternity even tho i was right and i was trying to explain but she just

[zevrans-remade]

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[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Kiss me before you leave.

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n and Bucky's relationship during the years of the war.

Warning: crying/ mention of POW camp/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 2k

1940, Manitowoc, Wisconsin

He was leaving, he was actually going on the boat and leaving to fight the war. She couldn’t believe it, and he just gave her a letter. She read it again, in case she missed something.

My dear Y/n,

I’m leaving for England today at 9:30 at the docks, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you in person, but I’m so scared of hurting you. I want to fight for my country. When I come back, we’ll get married because you’re the love of my life. If you still want me, of course, I’ll send you a letter when I’m assigned to a base, so you can write to me. I’ll think about you every second, I’ll think about you in ways that can’t be written. I love you so much, my darling.

Forever yours, Bucky.

She looked at the time, it was 9:05, she could make it in time. Without even thinking, she took her brother’s bike and rode it down the street, she was pedaling so fast, but she didn’t care if she crashed, she wanted to see him one last time before his departure. She didn’t want to cry, but if she missed him, she was going to. She felt a lot of emotions, sadness, anger and love. She was sad that he was leaving, angry at the way he left and in love because he promised to marry her when he got back. Her hair flew in the wind, her skirt too, she couldn’t care less, she wanted to see him.

He felt bad for the way he left her, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her in person. He was looking at the window when he saw someone riding a bike, really fast. Then he recognized his girlfriend. He let out a small laugh before sticking his head out the window. ‘’Y/n!’’ he yelled her name, she searched for a second the person that called her name, then she saw him. She ran in front of the window, but he was too high for her to reach him. ‘’Seriously Bucky! That’s how I learn you’re leaving? You could’ve at least kissed me before you left!’’ she screamed, in anger, but she was painting from the bike ride she just had. ‘’Sorry honey, I can’t hear you!’’ he was smirking, he heard her, he just didn’t want to argue with her.

Soldiers that were still boarding saw the scene. ‘’S’cuse me miss, if you want, we can help ya get up’’ one of them said to Y/n. ‘’Please’’ she begged. Next thing she knew, she was being lifted by a group of soldiers, she didn’t care if they looked under her skirt, she could reach her boyfriend. When she was equal to him, she pulled him by the tie, an inch to her lips. ‘’You’re really lucky that I’m in love with you John Egan’’ she smiled before kissing him. He instantly kissed her back, adding more passion to it. Soldiers beneath them were cheering for the couple. They pulled back to catch their breath. ‘’I love you too, doll’’ he smirked. They kissed for what felt like an eternity, but they were stopped by the boat horn.

‘’Be safe, I want my future husband in one piece!’’ she said as the soldiers brought her back to the ground. ‘’I promise, I love you so much!’’ he blew a kiss to her. She looked at the group of soldiers that helped her. ‘’Thank you so much, be careful’’ she thanked them. She smiled at Bucky as she watched the boat leave the dock. He was waving to her, she was crying from sadness, but smiling and laughing at the same time. Other wives and girlfriend were on the dock, crying too. ‘’Write to me!’’ she yelled. She only saw him make a thumbs up. She stayed on the dock until the boat was out of sight, she kept crying until tears didn’t fall down. She couldn’t wait to write to him.

1942, Thorpe Abbotts, England

Bucky smiled as he saw the envelope with his name on it, it was from his girl. He sat down on his bed before opening it. Inside there was a letter, a picture and one of her hair ribbons. He opened the letter, smelled it before reading it.

My dear John,

I miss you every second. Yesterday, one of the kids at school asked me if I was in love. I said yes and got to talk about you with little Timmy Harrison. I even showed a picture of you in class, Ruby said you were really handsome. I found out someone took a picture of us at the dock, I put it in the envelope, so you’d have it. I found it really funny and quite beautiful. In your last letter, you said that you were homesick, I hope it goes away. I hope you're giving the Germans what they deserve. After Pearl Harbor, a lot of men left, we woman, are lonely too. I also give you one of my ribbons, I thought you might like it. Oh, and I have gossip. Do you remember Olivia Dunham? Well, I found out that she cheated on her husband and got pregnant with none other than William Rogers, her music teacher. It was quite the gossip this week. You’ll be pleased to hear that the Yankees won their match and are going to the world series, but I think you found a way to listen to the game with a radio. I miss you, John, I pray that you come home safe, I can’t wait to be Y/n Egan. I love you so much. It hurts when you’re not around. But I know you’re away for a good reason. You’re my hero and the kid’s hero. They call you super John.

PS: Say hi to Buck, Croz, and Curt for me. And tell Curt to stop spooning with you, or I’ll come on the base to tell him.

Forever yours, Y/n

He laughed and smelled her ribbon; it smelled like her. He looked at the picture, he missed her so much, but he was happy that she was okay. Her job as a teacher was keeping her busy, so she had less time to worry about him. He put the picture on his wall, and he tied the ribbon around his right wrist. Bucky sniffed the letter one last time before putting it with the others. He couldn’t wait to get home, he wanted to be with her so much, so he picked up his pen and started to write.

1942, Manitowoc, Wisconsin

Y/n and Marge sat at the table with their letters in hand. Buck actually sent a letter to Y/n in 1941, asking her to look out for Marge, they became friends ever since. ‘’Ready?’’ Marge asked, holding her letter. Y/n nodded and opened the envelope, inside, it had the letter, a picture of a dog and a dollar bit that had two corners bitten off.

My darling Y/n,

Of course, I remember Olivia! I can’t believe she cheated on her husband. I’m glad that the kids like me and think I’m a hero because I don’t really feel like it. It’s hard here. Missions are more regular and harder. The dog on the picture is Meatball, one of the guys brought him on the base, and I know how much you like dogs, so I thought you might like him. He even flies with us sometimes, but he’s howling all the time. Tell Ruby that I’m already in love with someone, or don’t I don’t want to break her heart. Thank you for the ribbon, I wear it around my wrist. It’s my lucky charm. That’s why I send you my lucky deuce, I have a new charm, I don’t need my old one. The guys love the picture of us. They’re jealous of us. I can’t wait for you to be my wife. Thank you for the Yankees news. Can you keep me updated on their journey to victory? I love you most, my darling.

PS: The guys say hi. Curt says he can’t stop spooning with me, even if it’s the fifth time you asked him, it’s cold in England.

Yours truly, John.

Y/n was giggling at the letter, God she was in love with him. When Marge finished her letter, she was smiling too. She even had happy tears streaming down her face. ‘’What’s wrong?’’ Y/n asked. She showed the ring that Buck sends her. ‘’He popped the question’’ she giggled. ‘’Oh my God! I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!’’ she hugged Marge, laughing in happiness. ‘’Will you be my maid of honor?’’ she asked her. ‘’I will be honored to be your maid of honor’’ she smiled. They both squealed in happiness. ‘’I’m getting married!’’ she giggled.

1944, Stalag Luft III

He couldn’t wait for her letter, ever since he got captured, he missed her letters, he hoped she could get his. Because if not, she was going to think he was dead, he didn’t want that, but when his name got called by the mailmen, he was relived, he practically ripped the letter from how hard he grabbed it. There was just the letter inside.

Dear John,

I hope you’re well; I received your letters saying that you got captured. I hope these Krauts are treating you well, otherwise I’ll riot. The kids can’t stop asking about you, so I decided that everyday, 15 minutes before the end of class, I’m talking about you to them. I think Ruby is head over heels in love with you. I’m so happy you’re Buck’s best man, that means we’re going up the aisle together. Marge and I are doing well, we just can’t wait for you guys to return. To know you’re both alive and well is reassuring, we were worried. I love you so much, words on the street are that the war will be over soon. Be careful, say hi to Buck for me.

PS: I forgot to tell you in my last letter that the Yankees won the world series!

Forever yours, Y/n.

He was smiling like the idiot of the village. He couldn’t wait to be back home. He was happy she received his letters; he didn’t think she would. He hoped the war would be over soon, from the camp, he didn’t hear any news, the only one he had was from Buck’s handmade radio.

1945, Manitowoc, Wisconsin

A knock on the door made her jump, she wasn’t expecting anyone, and the mailmen already delivered the letters. When she opened, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘’Hello darling’’ he was standing in front of her, he was back. He survived. She dropped her book on the ground and hugged him tightly. ‘’You’re back! Please never leave again” she cried in joy. His embrace made her believe he was real; he was in front of her and real. ‘’I love you so much’’ he said, looking at her. God, he missed her so much. ‘’Come in, do you want anything to drink?’’ she babbled. He shook his head before kissing her, he wanted to do that since he left. ‘’I’m so happy you’re here, I still can’t believe it!’’ she mumbled. He smiled as he kissed her again.

‘’I’m back for good this time, darling, I never should’ve left the way I did, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you riding your bike. I thought about you every second of everyday. Now that I’m back, you’re stuck with me. I love you too much to be apart from you again.’’ He got down on one knee. ‘’Darling, will you marry me?’’ he asked, smiling so hard it made his face hurt. ‘’Yes, thousand time yes!’’ she exclaimed as they shared another passionate kiss.

They were apart for long, but Bucky kept his promise, he was never going to leave her again. Till death do us part, they took their vow seriously…

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (3) - Scream

Cover by: @ortegalvr

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 2.8k

-Scream! When the fire burns me, when it's hard to break free-

This scene was going to be your undoing. Action scene? Perfectly done, easily done, but then this part. Where Ghostfaces had Tara and C/N captured? You just couldn’t get it right. Nothing felt right, either one of the Ghostface lines would get messed up, or someone would miss a que. Jenna’s voice broke once, and you were having issues getting into character as well, unable to get what C/N was feeling across.

And then it just clicked.

“Fuck you,” Jenna gritted out when Ghostface was meant to taunt Tara that C/N didn’t protect her and you felt the prop knife touching the left side of your back, prompting you to gasp for breath but not scream. You widened your eyes, acting like you were in shock and pain.

The focus was on Jenna as she expertly delivered the pain, the despair Tara felt as Ghostface told her she would need to shoot your character.

When the gun was pointed at you and Jenna whimpered you followed the cue and gasped, and while the camera focused on Jenna you quickly tossed the shirt you had on aside in favor of the more damaged one. You all wanted to do this in one take, so this was the solution.

"I'll do anything else, whatever you ask, just please not this!" you were amazed at how hoarse Jenna could make her voice. Not to mention all the emotional range she was showing right now. "Please, anything but this!"

The scene went on, uninterrupted, you felt like you had it, like this was the take you needed. "I don't know what you are screaming about, Tara. You got what you wanted right? You didn't kill Y/N," the words and the prop knife messing around Jenna’s bandaged hand were your signal.

You had no idea where it came from, but Jenna crying out pulled something out of you. “Stop that!” you raged, akin to a wild wounded beast, so intense it frightened even you and nearly made Jenna herself break the character. It wasn’t meant to sound that raw, but the scene continued.

She recovered, as great as she was, acting like she was having an asthma attack and you could see she researched it for days until she could get all the symptoms right.

“Tara!” and carried by the intensity of the previous scream you yelled, desperation you never felt before clear in your voice. It was a harrowing cry, of someone fearing the loss of their loved one, of the only person they had in the world. "You won! I can't fight back! Just let her go!"

And then, when it came the time to top even that, to escalate it even further, to have Jenna show Tara’s dedication to your character despite the asthma, she delivered. Jenna pleaded, her voice sounding like she was choking, drowning, unable to draw breath, yet just as desperate as you were. For a moment you even believed she was having an asthma attack, that was how good she was. The scene felt easy after that as you picked Jenna up, while faking that it was difficult and stepped back into the hospital room.

“Cut!” Tyler yelled and you dropped down onto the floor, emotionally drained from all the takes. The scene was supposed to go on a bit longer, but it looked like he had some mercy in him. “Great job! Jenna, Y/N, that was incredible. We’ll continue tomorrow, you both deserve to rest,” he said, before congratulating the rest of the crew present on the long day of work.

“Y/N?!” Jenna jumped to her feet from the bed, and you just gave her a thumbs up.

“I’m okay, just never had to film a scene that intense,” you gave her a slightly tired, but still reassuring smile and she relaxed, sitting back down on the bed, the exhaustion now present in her eyes as well. “And you’ve been doing intense scenes for years, damn, you’re amazing,” you got up and sat down next to her, before falling back onto the bed.

“I’m anything but amazing,” she dared to say and you abruptly sat up, in fact you sat up so quickly she turned and looked at you, her eyes wide as you watched her intensely.

“You are, and I’ll keep saying that until I get it into your head,” you promised, the tips of your fingers touching hers.

Jenna opened her mouth and then closed it, before finally regaining her composure. “Thanks, Y/N,” she muttered. “You’ll sleep really well tonight, you’ll see. Scenes like this are draining,” she promised, and you nodded, trusting her entirely. "And you were amazing as well," she spoke up, completely certain of her words.

"Happens every now and then," you grinned and she rolled her eyes, as if telling you: 'see, you do it too' but the fond smile on her face made your heart skip a beat.

~X~

Jenna was right, you just barely managed to get ready for bed. Hell, you were surprised you didn’t fall asleep on your feet. Your phone buzzed as you crawled under the covers and you nearly ignored it, but for some reason you reluctantly took it and saw it was a message on Instagram from Jenna.

Jenna Ortega: Hey, are you asleep?

Y/N L/N: Barely hanging on

Jenna Ortega: Oh, sorry, sleep well, Y/N.

That woke you up and you pressed the call button. It rang a few times and then she picked up. “Please go to sleep,” she opened with that and despite still being a bit sleepy you chuckled.

“Tell me what’s up?” you asked, sitting up so you wouldn’t fall asleep in the middle of the call.

“I just wanted to wish you good night,” for an actress she sucked at lying, and you just grinned.

“Jen, tell me what’s really going on?” you asked as you got comfortable.

She remained silent for a bit, before sighing. “I, I think I’m suffering from insomnia, I can’t fall asleep and I wasn’t sure who else to call. I don’t want to worry my family, and I just, I don’t know, I,” she huffed, frustrated, and you just gave her time, letting her sort her thoughts out. “We filmed so many scenes together, and I know you are tired, but I just impulsively sent that message. I was hoping you were already asleep,” she told you.

You nodded, too late realizing she couldn’t see you. “Do you want to talk? Maybe you’ll have easier time falling asleep like that?” you suggested, not really sure what would help with insomnia. You’d have to search that up tomorrow.

“You don’t mind?” she asked, prompting you to reassure her and tell her you definitely didn’t mind. “Tell me a bit about yourself? Something I don’t know? Like how did you get into cooking and martial arts?”

“Hm, let’s see. I spent a lot of my time at my neighbor’s house, playing with the siblings living there. Their mother was a great cook and would always make us snacks, either pastries or cookies, or cake, I never saw some of those recipes in my life. Well, it was natural, they emigrated from the Balkans decades ago, when she was a child if I remember correctly,” you began the tale of your childhood.

Jenna hummed, sounding a lot more interested than sleepy.

“I fell in love with the recipes, and she was willing to teach me. So, when I wasn’t playing with her children I’d learn how to cook from her, starting with easier things and gradually moving onto the various cakes and pastries. It was freeing, I needed to focus, I needed to be precise, to keep practicing so I could improve, and I guess I needed that at that age. Around the same time I began learning martial arts, pretty much for the same reason, and to find a better way to spend time,” and so you told her about your martial arts journey as well, about which martial arts you started with, about things you enjoyed, things you fond annoying, reasons you were passionate about them. And eventually, you caught the sound of Jenna’s breathing evening out. You still talked though, until you were sure she was in deep sleep.

“Sweet dreams, Jen,” you smiled and closed your eyes, letting the long-awaited sleep overtake your exhausted body.  

~X~

A few days later you were once again filming way out of order, going all the way to the end of the movie, or well, near the end.

“Are you okay with this scene?” you asked Jenna as the two of you sat in hair and makeup. Considering what the characters were going through makeup was mostly there to make both of you look more exhausted. You were alone so you took the chance to ask her.

Jenna looked at you and smiled as much as she could, but you could see a bit of worry in her eyes. “Of course, we already did a lot more than that,” she joked and well, you guessed that was one way to look at it.

You raised your fist up toward her and grinned, choosing not to comment on her worry. “If you feel uncomfortable at any moment, just tell me and I’ll get them to scrap it, say I don’t want to do it,” and you were completely serious.

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked you in the eyes. “You can’t do that, you’ll sound unprofessional,” she sounded more worried now, and it was not what you wanted to do. And she didn’t bump your fist, so you pulled it back, not noticing that she bit her lower lip a bit as you moved your fist away.

You shrugged. “I’d rather be unprofessional than have you feel uncomfortable,” there was no hesitation in your tone, no doubt, no wavering of your conviction. No matter what you felt like your priority was to have your costars be comfortable, now sure, you wouldn’t go up to the directors or writers and demand changes for any costar, but this was Jenna, and she, well in these past few weeks she became incredibly important to you. Important enough to act unprofessionally if needed.

You watched as Jenna looked down, a hint of a blush appearing on her cheeks as she refused to meet your eyes, but you could see a small, shy smile on her lips, proving to you that she did appreciate it.

“I’m comfortable with you,” she told you, finally meeting your eyes as more people came in.

~X~

This was it; this was the scene she was the most nervous about. She recently became a bit self-conscious about kiss scenes, she didn’t lie though. Jenna was truly comfortable with you, felt a connection she couldn’t deny, so strong and fast she almost didn’t want the shooting to wrap as soon as it would. You’d stay in touch, she had no doubt about that, but it always felt awful to separate without knowing if you’ll ever spend more time together or just see one another in passing.

You and she took your spots as the crew got ready to film, there weren’t as many people around, giving the two of you a bit more privacy for the scene. “Action!”

For once she didn’t black out, which was a strange experience, it made her feel more self-conscious, but she guessed it sold Tara’s uncertainty even better since no one was stopping her. She was to take the lead, your character not wanting to push Tara into anything. Funny how you took that approach with her as well, outside of your characters, outside of the movie, outside of being costars, and she did something unprofessional. She wasn’t reaching up with her right hand and touching C/N, she was touching your cheek.

You leaned into her touch, parting your lips slightly. “Tara,” you whispered, soft, protective, your voice filled with relief and love, exactly what was needed from you as you gently wrapped your arms around her shoulders and upper back, avoiding the injuries Tara was meant to have. Jenna hugged you, her right palm resting on the nape of your neck, tugging you lower as she placed her bandaged left hand on your back.

The question in your eyes, the one last chance for her to tell you she wasn’t comfortable, to back away, to quit being unprofessional was presented to her, yet she, against the script, ran her fingers through your hair, gently scratching the back of your head and raising her head. She kissed you, and for a moment she wasn’t Tara, she was herself, kissing you, and it scared her how right it felt, how soft your lips felt against hers. And under the lights and cameras filming the two of you she realized something she didn’t think would happen to her.

How easy it was to act with you, how easy it was to talk or randomly send you a text while she was getting ready for bed, how easy it was to forget herself and lean on you while watching a movie, before moving away, blushing madly only for you to nudge her a bit and close the distance so your shoulders would touch, a smile on your face telling her you didn’t mind. She had a crush on you. A tiny, still growing crush, but a crush nonetheless.

In the midst of the kiss, the soft and tender way your lips moved in sync, she remembered why this was happening, she remembered Tara was supposed to be in love with your character for years, that the kiss was meant to be hungrier, needier, raw and filled with emotion. That it was only meant to start soft, and she hummed into the kiss, channeling the desire Tara was meant to feel. The two of you parted for a second, with Jenna taking a noticeable breath and then kissing you again. She finally blacked out, letting Tara’s feelings take over. The kiss grew fiercer, more passionate, and that was when your part came in, to reign it in, prevent Tara from losing herself in the moment. And then you separated, breathing a bit labored as you pressed your forehead against hers and she leaned most of her weight on you.

“Cut! That was great you two!” Matt praised you as you and Jenna stepped away from one another.

Jenna nodded, but there was a feeling she couldn’t shake off.

How rushed the kiss felt, how much Tara and C/N went through. “It doesn’t feel right though,” she sent you an apologetic smile, hoping you’d understand it had nothing to do with the actual kiss you shared, it was just from the story perspective.

“How come?” Matt asked, puzzled, and maybe, and maybe it was just Jenna’s anxiety, just a bit annoyed. Well, this was supposed to be the big kiss of the movie.  

She wasn’t too surprised when you took her side immediately. “Tara just killed her toxic girlfriend, C/N just reconnected with Susan, they are both vulnerable, too vulnerable to get into a relationship,” you leaned back against the wall and glanced at Jenna. The smile on your face told her you were completely with her on this and she felt her heart beating faster, the realization of her crush on you returning full-force.

“Look, it’s a movie, we can’t exactly spend half an hour dealing with all the trauma between them,” Matt ran his hand through his hair. “I get your point, I really do, but we’ve been building this relationship up from the first scene you two have together.”

“And it’s built up, the kiss isn’t needed to establish them together. They’ve slept on the same bed, in each other’s arms, risked their lives for one another, C/N calls Tara ‘Love’, Tara killed for C/N, I don’t think anyone needs to see them kiss to know where their relationship is going,” you countered.

“So, if the sequel gets greenlit, we just jump into their relationship? That isn’t satisfying,” he sighed, looking at the couple from a commercial standpoint and not the story of the two characters that frankly weren’t ready for a relationship in this exact moment. In Jenna’s mind at least a few months would need to pass.

“Maybe we could make a short movie, make a storyline for them getting together and release it just before the sequel if we end up filming one?” Jenna suggested.

Matt nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, it’ll help avoid censorship at the very least.”

He stepped outside and you approached Jenna. “It had nothing to do with us, I was comfortable kissing you,” Jenna admitted, feeling like her face was on fire.

“I understand Jen, don’t worry about it,” you grinned, and she felt relieved as she raised her fist and you bumped your own fist against hers.

A/N: That took a long time. Hope you like it, tell me what you think?

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths (It's been a while, I hope I didn't forget anyone 😅😅)

[pearlofthesirens]

Everything's gonna be okay- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

first time writing for a fandom omg might as well start writing for cod more. thank you to @xxshadowbabexx for this writing competition, i'm so happy to participate <3 summary: After Simon found himself waking up after another nightmare, his significant other reminds him that he isn't alone in this world pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, nightmares, Simon's past, toxic relationship with father mentioned, slight cursing now playing: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez word count: 1193 words(one thousand one hundred and ninety three words)

"I wish you would've told me," "Told you what? That I get nightmares which eat me alive? That I've always been this fucked up?" "..that's not what I meant, Si." Hearing the familiar nickname slip off her tongue despite how he yelled at her snapped him out of the shaken state he was in. He turned to look at the doorknob, contemplating on whether to twist it open or not. It had been more than half an hour that he locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and making excuses to not come out. He didn't want to see her, not when she had witnessed him scream as he woke up from his nightly terrors and swat her hand away with such force. All she wanted was to comfort him, her gentle rubs on his face was all he needed at that moment. Then why did he refuse to open the door and face her?

"I want to help, Si. I want to be there for you like you have been for me all this time." He looked at himself in the mirror, the face he dreaded to see every day. He wore the mask for a reason and as much as Johnny pestered him for the real reasons, it had always been more than just hiding his face for safety. His dusty blonde strands and brown irises remind him of a bastard he shouldn't be thinking of. The bastard he took care of when he just had enough, the bastard who tyrannized not only him, but his dear mother and brother. His lover on the other side of the door seemed to be in love with all of him, the scars, wounds, bruises, even the face he thought he would despise all his life.

"You're more than your father's son. You're Simon, my Simon.." Simon thought of his mother often, Tommy and Beth too. Simon also thought of having a little critter like Joseph crawling around the house, someone whom he can call his. Someone he can raise with the love of his life. Someone to let him prove that he indeed did not turn out to be the person he had sworn to loathe for an eternity. Simon wished to have a family he would love and cherish. But he did not trust himself.

"Do not listen to the voices in your head, Simon. They're lying to you. You're worth it, you're worth the troubles. I'm here to help and I'm here to stay. Please..please let me in. Please let me help you, Si." Hearing her voice break was the last straw and he couldn't torture himself with solitude anymore. He opened the door very slowly, surprisingly avoiding the creaking of the hinges which much needed some greasing. He looked down to find her little face peering into him, her curious eyes always searching for something. Under her scrutinizing gaze, Simon felt the tiniest droplet of water roll down from his forehead to his lashes, down to his chin. Her hand took his, squeezing his fingers softly before she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let go of every insecurity and every doubt he had about himself, snaking his arms around her waist.

Dipping his head down and into her neck, he took the longest breath in and inhaled her all so familiar scent. Simon thought she never needed perfume, her body odor was so enticing and comforting to him that he'd rather not fill his nostrils with anything artificial. His arms tightened and he let out the softest sniffle, burying his face even further into her neck. He felt two small hands rubbing his back, running over the muscles he spent hours in the gym to build.

Before meeting her, Simon thought that crying in front of his partner was the stupidest thing possible. How would it look if a 6'4 military man was breaking down in tears in the arms of his little love? He was supposed to be a man, he was supposed to be the one providing her comfort and not the other way. But at that moment of vulnerability, his ego had been overtaken by the need to feel her close. She was the only one who would see through Ghost and not once judge him. "This..I'm so sorry, lovie..I-I can't make it stop." "I know, darling. I know. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Si." Simon never once understood how she broke through the tough walls he had built, how she took his ice cold heart and warmed it up at the cost of her patience. She had always been so gentle with him, even when he felt frustrated and yelled profanities at her, not realizing that she was not one of the people who would disregard how he felt. She taught him how to apologize with words, she always reassured him that he could be gentle despite not once finding peace in his tragic life. And yes, he was gentle with her. He did apologize with words every single time he ended up saying something he didn't mean.

He had a ritual to calm her down when she was upset, the reason being him or not. He would sit her down on his lap, wipe her tears and place tender kisses on her forehead. He did everything in his power to not see his angel cry, specially not because of him. So why was it weird to him when she did the same? Why did it not feel right when it was her turn to show how much he deserved to be held and comforted too? "I'll tell you this again and again and again. You're worth it, Si. You're worth the stupid arguments we get into sometimes, you're worth the silent treatment, you're worth all the wrong things you've once said to me. You wanna know why?" He only nodded his head, not bringing his face out of her neck. "Because I see the change in you. I see you trying, I see you improving. You've gotten so much better at expressing yourself, you apologize with words, you think twice before saying anything to me. I know there had been moments you've slipped up, but that does not mean that you don't deserve love." And suddenly, everything she said made sense to Simon. He had improved, he tried his best to be better, to be gentler, to be kinder. To her and to himself. So what if he had said something he shouldn't have? He knew how to recognize his mistakes and appropriately apologize for it, he knew how to make up for his behavior. He knew how to say sorry without bullshitting, he knew how to admit that he had done something wrong and he knew how to fix it. And she had been by his side all the time, refusing to be anything but kind, loving and understanding. How could he not love her? "I swear, lovie..I ain't leaving you till the day I die. I promise" "I love you too, Si. Wanna get back to bed?" "Yeah."

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 00:44 240227

[wolken-himmel]

In which a strange girl with the same haircut as Lilia appears in the Diasomnia dorm.

It turns out, the mysterious girl is none other than Lilia and (Y/n)'s daughter from the future.

Request by @over-active-daydreamer.

"What is this foul stench, Silver?"

"Must be Lilia cooking again..."

"No way— I was just gone for a few seconds! He better not have messed with my soup... How does one even burn soup?"

Sebek and Silver had their noses scrunched up in utter disgust as they rushed down the hallways of the Diasomnia dorm. Even from kilometres away, one would have been able to follow the potent odor that came from the kitchen. The closer they came to the source of the horrible smell, the more they had to fight against the ourge to collapse.

They only managed to enter the kitchen with their collars raised over their noses. Just as they had feared, a small figure with a dishevelled bob-cut stood by the stove. Seemingly unaffected by the putrid smoke, the culprit continued to stir the overboiling pot.

Silver was the first one to speak up, although his voice was muffled. "Old man, get away from the stove at once," he exclaimed and raised his hand. "I will not hesitate—"

Poor Sebek looked like he was about to cry when the smoke cleared up. "You ruined my soup, Lilia!"

The person whom they thought to be their vice dorm leader let out a little giggle. "Huh? Lilia? That's not my name!" Truly, the stranger's voice was much higher, reminiscent of a teenager girl. A pleased grin appeared on her face. "Must be my hair, eh? I wanted to style it just like Daddy's! I guess the pink streaks look just like his, then. Mommy did a great job with the dye."

"Intruder! Intruder!" Sebek yelled and moved his hand to his baton. "The intruder burnt my soup!"

The girl rolled her eyes before stepping out of the smoke and skipping over to the two Diasomnia students. No wonder they had mistaken her for Lilia — their haircut was identical! Though, her clothing gave her away. She wore a green summer dress instead of a school or dorm uniform. And on closer look, her ears were round, like that of a human.

"Calm down, Sebek... it was just a little bit raw, so I decided to turn up the heat," she said cheekily and held out a bowl of the crusty soup. When she urged him to take it, he almost screamed in fear. His reaction caused her to roll her eyes. "My daddy taught me to cook, you know. I'm not clueless! Just add some lamb sauce if it tastes burnt."

Silver eyed her suspiciously. "How did you get in here and what's your name?"

Upon finally taking notice of him, her eyes lit up in glee. When she threw herself at him and looped her arms around his neck, he was too taken aback to react properly. A series of happy giggles escaped her lips. "Big brother! You're here, too," she chimed happily. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away to shoot him a lopsided grin. "It's nice to see you again! It's been such a long time since you visited us... You're always away on some important royal guard business with the king..."

"The king...?" Silver asked in confusion.

"Yeah! King Mal-Mal. You should tell him to come visit us, too. It's been an eternity since I've seen him."

The boys' minds rattered with thoughts and all sorts of hypotheses on who this girl was. With all the clues they had been given, they were just about to figure out who she was when another figure entered the kitchen.

"What's this amazing smell in here?" the newcomer asked unironically. "My mouth is watering!"

All three of them whipped around to find Lilia waltzing in without a care in the world. He didn't seem to take notice of the mysterious girl with how his gaze seemed fixated on the soup pot. However, he was forced to acknowledge her presence when she jumped at him and enveloped him in a bear-hug.

"Daddy! You're here!" she exclaimed joyfully. "Would you like some of my soup?"

Lilia furrowed his eyebrows. "Huh? Who are you?" he asked in amusement. A bout of laughter escaped his lips when he noticed her hair style. The corners of lips twisted upwards into a giant grin. "I like your hair, stranger."

"Silly you!" she muttered and rolled her eyes. "It's me, Aurum— your daughter."

The sudden revelation had the vice dorm leader frozen at first, and even Silver and Sebek's unanimous gasps wouldn't make him budge. The only visible movement from him were his eyes that looked the girl up and down. He tilted his head to the side when he could sense no falseness in her words.

"I have a daughter? That's news to me," Lilia muttered calmly. He began stroking his chin. "I've seen a lot of strange things... but even this is newfoundland for me."

"Oh— right, Mommy and you aren't together yet!" A mischievous grin appeared on the girl's face as she clasped her hands together. "You should hurry up with confessing, really. You always told me about all these other guys that had a crush on Mommy. Better not let them win, eh? My life is on the line here."

It was then that Lilia's eyes lit up, the confusion vanquished. "Hm, so you're a time traveller! Everything makes sense now."

"No, nothing makes sense!" Sebek grumbled, still as confused as in the beginning.

With a newfound fondness, Lilia wrapped an arm around her and began laughing. "Your company delights me, Aurum. Why don't you tell me more about the future?" he asked curiously. "About your mother, to be precise."

"Oh, I would love to— but I think I need some fresh air..." A yawn escaped her lips as she gestured to the door. She flashed her father a sheepish smile before worming her way out of his grip. "Time travel can be so insanely exhausting..."

Lilia hummed softly. "Can I get you anything, Aurum?"

"Yeah, a younger sister would be nice. Thanks."

The three Diasomnia students found themselves entirely caught off-guard by the casual tone of her request. Of course, Lilia was the first one to snap out of it when uncontrollable laughter escaped his throat. He could barely stop himself, especially when he glanced upon the shocked expressions of his fellow dorm members. So caught up in his amusement, he didn't notice as you entered just when Aurum was about to leave.

And as fate wanted it, the two of you bumped into one another.

"Oh— sorry, I didn't see you there," you apologised at once. When your eyes fell upon her hair, an aloof smile appeared on your lips. A little chuckle escaped your lips. "Hey, I like your hair!"

"Thanks, Mommy! You did a great job dyeing it." The girl shot you an affectionate smile before walking past you.

Your jaw sank down upon having comprehended her words properly. Even after she had disappeared from your view, you still continued to stare after her. "What... was that?" you asked the trio of Diasomnia students after a while. "And what's up with Lilia?"

Lilia could barely contain his joy at Aurum's implications. At once, he began pacing back and forth, mumbling all sorts of things to no one but himself. An eternally pleased smile appeared on his lips. "I've lived a long life, and I always thought that nothing fate could throw at me would surprise me anymore. But to think that so much more happiness awaits me— oh, fate, you sly bastard... perhaps you will triumph over me, after all."

[katerinaaqu]

Odyssey Parallels to my "Survivor's Guilt and Survivor's Duty" story (Rhapsody /Book 5 of Odyssey, Calypso's Monolog)

So here is a small break down of one of my most beloved fanfictions of Odyssey line by line from Calypso's monolog in 5th rhapsody of the Odyssey where she complains to Hermes for demanding to let Odysseus go, listing what she did for him. I find interesting how she speaks of the things she indeed DID do for him as if that somehow makes him her "property" or rather having a right on him (or as my brilliant friend @artsofmetamoor stated "like she was keeping a cat!" XD) Buckle up this analysis is long! XD

And I was the one to save him, while he was alone holding onto the ship's keel, for his fast ship was split open in the middle of the wine-dark sea by Zeus's thunder!

(Translation by me)

"Odysseus traveled once more; this time alone and grabbing upon the last remains of his beloved black ship… The night came cold and he was shivering. By the morning another storm caught up with him and his mast was once more drifted by the huge waves that resembled white top mountains, tearing apart his clothes and his flesh. And yet his hands endured… It was as if his heart and hands combined turned into oak or stones. The Man of many Torments endured. (From Part1)

Next day the sun was merciless over his head, sending him almost to the brief of hallucinations and heat as sweat was running down his already wounded body. The night the gods felt pity on him and sent a drizzle rain. Odysseus raised his head to the heavens trying to grab as much of the fresh god-sent water as if that would be enough to quench his insatiable thirst and the burning of the salt. Once a passing seaweed came close to him to which Odysseus made some sort of imitation of a meal for himself. How many times he nearly slipped off his life-raft he lost count…how many times he probably actually fainted on it he could no longer remember. And yet, the King of Ithaca endured…in strength that he had no idea he had. It was as if both his body and spirit had decided he had a duty to survive. He survived the agony and pain as well as the anxiety and fear every time something touched his foot beneath the waves or a passing fish would bite his legs. He had long stopped feeling much." (From Part 1)

"Therewith the worst came; a thunderbolt stroke the ship and the sudden flash and tremendous sound left them all blind and deaf. Odysseus screamed in pain shielding his ears. The ship cracked from side to side down in the middle; splintering in the winds like it was a pile of leaves." (From Part 1) => [This moment more graphically described by Odysseus himself in 12th rhapsody]

There all his goodly companions perished and the winds and waves brought him here!

(Translation by me)

"By night before the tenth day of his painful journey he had collapsed. He didn’t feel the sand beneath his body as his raft finally beached at a sandy beach. He didn’t move as some crab or beach beetle walked over his sea-beaten body. By dawn some hints of his consciousness returned. It was only for a brief second that the rays of sun touched his salt-crusted cheek but Odysseus saw or at least he thought he saw a tall slender figure picking something up from the beach many meters away from him (maybe a seashell). The figure turned towards him and walked there. And then everything turned black…" (From Part 1)

"He yelled till his throat was sore…till his voice was gone…he sobbed and cried tears almost as plenty as the waves of the sea. The storm was roaming around him… There was no one there to hear his lament… His voice was carried around by the wind…his tears were washed away by sea and rain…His body was borne by the direful winds… Six hundred men had started that fateful journey… Now there was only one… Now he was alone." (From Part 1)

I took him in with care and love and gave him food, I even told him I would make him immortal and ageless for all eternity!

(Translation by me)

"She slid her arm behind his back and half-raised him with unexpected strength, bringing the goblet to his lips. As the liquid touched those thirsty, dry lips, Odysseus gained strength anew to his arms; the type of strength you get when you need to survive. He greedily downed sips from the drink and aimed to hold it with his weak, shaking hands. He tasted the sweetest drink he ever thought he would taste; it was sweeter than honey, smoother than wine. It was all the tastes he ever knew and none at the same time. He coughed as the drink went down the wrong way but he drank more ignoring some that escaped his lips and down the thick layer of curly hair that adorned his wide chest. He was thirsty! He was thirsty to the point of madness!" (From Part 2)

"“My maids shall bring you some food, Odysseus. I believe you are strong enough to eat now. Nectar and potions we created should allow you to heal to that point” “I am grateful, beautiful goddess…” “Rest and regain your strength first” Calypso advised sweetly, “The rest shall come…”" (From Part 2)

"The weeks passed and Odysseus was indeed trying his best to keep himself in good condition. A few days more and he could walk about Calypso’s grotto without any problems and soon he felt gaining his old strength back. Eventually he got out of the grotto and got to explore the isle around and know his surroundings. Under the tender care of Calypso and her maids, Odysseus felt like finding himself again. He gained the weight he lost by his cruel misadventures and managed to built his previous physical strength." (From Part 2)

"“You nearly lost your life out there, darling… Why must you torment yourself over them? Why must your heart always mourn? Forget about this…mortal coil. Stay here with me…stay and rest, finally, Odysseus… You shall not want of anything here… I could offer you the gift of immortality… Never shall you fear sickness or death again! Never shall you find yourself in the same pitiful state that you were when you first showed up at my doors! You shall be my equal! All you need to do is ask…” (From Part 3) => [also remembering the first rhapsodies how Athena says t the council of the gods that Calypso aims to make him forget his homeland]

***

So yeah... I tried my best to follow the Odyssey but of cource details filled in by me! For those interested the three parts of this story are here!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

And of course viewe's discression is advised given the hard hemes it includes (yes it includes the mention of SA so yeah...sad and dark stuff)

My Calypso fanart based on my story

My Odysseus fanart based on my stories

[drama--universe]

Interruption

Requested by anonymous: hi can i request a jang hanseok x reader where the reader is hanseoks only soft spot and treats you super well and stuff and the other babel/wussng employees were shocked when he just let you into his work space when he was super stressed and angry and didn’t yell at you or anything. sorry if this doesn’t make any sense 😭 i’m such a sucker for the villains of k dramas for some reason

Pairing: Jang Han-Seok x reader

Word Count: 0.6k words

Warnings: anger issues, cursing, suggestive ending

"Please, noona." Han-Seo was pleading at this point, begging you to come to Babel as his brother was destroying his office. You knew well enough that Han-Seo took pride in how neat his office was, so Han-Seok destroying it was probably really discouraging to the younger. However, you were working at the moment and your boss was already annoyed at you. Then again, Han-Seok would probably hurt himself so it would be better to go now before that happened.

With that, you decided to pack up and go. The way there was only a couple of minutes and the elevator ride felt like an eternity. When the doors opened, however, you almost wanted to leave again. The screams from Han-Seok were clear, even through the glass doors, and you could see that many people were uncomfortable. So you marched inside, being greeted by some employees while many wondered what you were thinking as you walked to the office. Outside stood 3 people, one being Han-Seo and you could recognize the other two as workers that had visited your home once or twice before. You nodded at Han-Seo before passing him and moving to open the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Just give him a couple of more minutes to calm down." The woman, you believed she was named Myung-Hee, spoke and you turned your head before rolling your eyes as you opened the door. As on instinct, you moved your head to the side and something flew past your head and into the hallway.

"I know how to handle him, thanks." You sneered back before moving again, walking into the office and to Han-Seok. The man hadn't notice you yet, but soon did as you laid a hand on his shoulder. His arm was thrown back, but he immediatley stopped once he noticed that it was you. You didn't bother to wait for any kind of response and instead, you stepped closer and hugged him.

"What did we say about destroying Han-Seo's office?" You asked, but the man didn't answer and instead just sat down in his chair. He pulled you along until you sat on his lap, arms still tightly wrapped around your form. You lifted yourself slightly, straddling his thighs before softly kissing his forehead. He calmed down signifyingly, sighing against your shoulder and you could feel stares from the people in the doorway. Han-Seo was the only one that wasn't surprised, he knew well enough that you had his older brother wrapped around your finger.

"Sir?" Myung-Hee was the first to break the silence, stepping in the office to report her findings about Vincenzo. Han-Seok looked up from your shoulder, but his eyes were dull of emotion to the woman.

"Get out." He ordered, his voice stern as if he was scolding a toddler, and Myung-Hee wanted to protest. However, when she saw his hand clenching the fabric of your shirt, she decided that it could wait and left along with the other two. The door was closed behind them and the room grew quiet again.

"Now, darling~" Han-Seok spoke, switching to his English nickname for you and you turned your head to him before yelping as he pulled you into a rough kiss. He was quick to take the lead, lifting you from his lap while doing so. The surface of the desk was painful to be dropped on, but Han-Seok didn't mind the groan of pain and continued. He only stopped when it was clear that neither of you could breath anymore, but the smirk on his face said enough for you.

"What did I say about interrupting me at work?"

[filthy-baee]

eddie fucking reader in his bedroom and they’re sooooooo loud bc wayne’s at work but OH! no he’s not at work! he got home earlier than usually! and he hears everyyyyythingggggg

next morning at breakfast he gives them a condom „i can’t afford another child“

Note: Pffff this is way too funny! I remember my dad saying something like this to me when I was younger and I had my first boyfriend. I changed it a little bit, but I hope that's okay for you. Thanks a lot for requesting! 💕 | English isn't my first language, so there will be some grammar errors. Not proofread!

Red as a tomato

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, MDNI, 18+, oral (f reciving), petnames, daddy kink, ball gag, bondage (hand cuffs), fingering, squirting, biting, dirty talk, crying, getting walked in on, if I forgot something please tell me

Y/N's skin was glistening from the sheen of sweat that formed on her body. Eddie was between her legs, laping at her wet folds. A small patch of wetness has began to form under her ass. As Eddies fingers found her aching hole she tried to wiggle away, her third orgasm of the night slowly beginning to build in her stomach. "Mmhg!" is the only thing Y/N can mumble with her mouth bound by a heartshaped gag. Eddie grinned at her, his breath fanning over her hot pussy. "Awww princess. Are you getting close again? For the third time this evening, right?" he mocked her, slowly circling her wet folds with his fingers. Eddies finger entered her hole slowly pumping in and out of it. Y/N tried to close her legs, the feeling becoming too much for her. "I asked you a question, princess." Eddie mumbled forcefully opening her legs even more, licking a fat stripe from his fingers to her clit.

"Yesh, daddy": she mumbled out, spit dripping down on her face. Her hands were bound above her head tightly with Eddie's handcuffs. They start to shake as Eddie starts his chicane again. He pumped three of his thick fingers into her tight cunt, the room being filled with the squeeking sounds of her pussy and the slurping from Eddie's mouth.

Y/N starts to shake uncontrollably, her wrists rattling against the headboard. "Hold it a little longer, princess." he came up to her, whispering into her neck as his thumb drew tight circles on her puffy clit.

Her pussy tightend around his fingers and he knew Y/N was close. "You want to come, princess? Be a good girl and...cum!" As the last word left Eddie's mouth Y/N came around his fingers, squirting on his bed and on his hand. Eddie bit into her neck, making her orgasm even harder. Y/N's mouth escaped a loud moany scream, her body trembling.

Suddenly the door opened with a forceful swing! Y/N looked at Eddie in shock, as she couldn't see who opened the door, she only saw Eddie's blown pupils looking directly into hers.

"Kiddos! Is everything-?!" As Wayne saw the scenario right in front of his eyes, he couldn't believe what he just saw. His eyes met shortly with Y/N's shoked ones, as Eddie turned around to face his uncle. He holds his hands in front of his eyes, trying to get rid of the image now burned into his brain. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" Wayne screamed. Eddie tried to cover up as much of Y/N as possible with his own body, but Wayne saw everything. The cuffs, the gag, the whole thing that went on.

"Wayne! Get out!" Eddie yelled, throwing a blanket over Y/N's naked body. Y/N couldn't move away, but if she could she would jump through the window and run. This has to be the most embarrissing moment in her life! Her cheeks were a deep red and small tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Eddie looked down at her for a second, before he heard the door close again, followed by a loud "Sorry guys! Just...calm down a little!" from Wayne. It all happened so fast but for Y/N it still felt like a eternity. This was awful. Both thought that Wayne was out the whole night working and they didn't even hear him open the front door.

"What the...?" Eddie mumbled and looked down at his poor girlfriend. Tears rolled down her blushy cheeks and her mouth was shaking around the gag. " Sorry! Wait-!" Eddie said as he opened the cuffs for her and her hands fall in front of her face. She tried to hide behind them, too embarrassed to even look at Eddie. She opened the gag, spit covering her cheeks and chin. Y/N curled up into a ball, throwing the blanket over her whole body and face, letting out a deep sigh.

"Hey, baby...It-It's okay. He didn't see anything." Eddie tried to sooth her, coming closer to her and rubbing her back with his still wet hand. "Don't lie, Eddie! He saw everything! We even had eyecontact!" Y/N whined, trying to wiggle away from his touch. Her nose was runny, her voice barely there. Eddie sighed, coming closer and crawling under the blanket with her. He was still fully clothed, his jeans rough against her hot skin. He pulled her closer and Y/N hid in his chest, drying her tears with his band shirt. Eddie carefully stroked her hair, pulling her even more into his body. He kissed her forehead, a calming hand on her back. "It's not the end of the world. I mean- he knows what we are up to...you are loud enough." he tried to lighten the mood a little, making a small smile appear on her lips. "Yeah, but- but he never saw iiiiit." she sobbed, letting the last word out in a annoyed tone. "It's okay, baby. Come here." Eddie said, rubbing her back and pulling her up, so she laid on him, her arm on his chest.

Eddie patted her head, telling her sweet nothings into her ear, as she slowly drifted away to sleep. She was done for the night, not only because of the encounter with Wayne but also the orgasms Eddie pulled from her one after another. As she peacefully slept in his arms, Eddie tried to wiggle away from her grip, but it was no use. Her hand was curled up fisting his already loose shirt, one leg swung over his hips. He could still feel the wetness from between her legs on his jeans. His cock twitched in his tight pants and it took everything in him, to not wake her again for some fun. He knew she wouldn't want it right now, as she was too sleepy and still uncomfortable because of this whole situation. Eddie also felt a little tired and he slowly fell asleep too.

The next morning he woke up still in the same position, but Y/N laid on him with her whole body, caging him in under her. Eddie let out a small laugh, she was just too cute.

He pulled her softly off of him, giving her a pillow, so she could cuddle with something else. He pecked her cheek and went off to the kitchen, to get him something to drink.

Wayne was awake, a small coffeecup in front of him. "Morning, boy." he mumbled, also still tired. Wayne felt uneasy, still thinking about the weird encounter last night. He fumled with something in his hand and got up to Eddie, who was at the kitchen sink, pouring himself a coffee too.

"Boy, uhm. Take these for the next time." Wayne holds a pack of condoms up to Eddie's face. Eddies face grew red, as he grabs the condoms out of his hand. Before Eddie could say anything, Wayne said again "I know what those stains are on your bed. Please, for the love of god, use some condoms, Edward. I can't afford a second child."

Eddie's face grew as red as a tomato and he just nodded and pushed the condoms into his backpocket, fleeing from the scene with his coffee in his shaky hands. He closed his bedroom door behind him, letting out a loud breath, he didn't even know he was holding in. Y/N left her head from her pillow, her hair a hot mess. Her still sleepy eyes met Eddie's gaze. A small smile formed on his lips.

"You were right. He saw everything." Eddie said as he pointed on the now dry stains on his bed. Y/N buried her face in the pillow again, but Eddie could still see a small grin on her face.

[lilliumrorum]

A little Sweetness to my Sour. (First encounter)

Synopsis: The man who appeared the most intimidating turned out to be the unexpected source of brightness in your day.

CW/Content Warnings: MDNI! Swearing, nothing else just fluff!!!!

WC: 2k

Notes: Loosely based off of @lunamoonbby's post

The day was dragging on, compounded by a surge of customers leaving due to delays in preparing new batches. Behind the bakery's delightful facade of mouthwatering aromas and delectable treats, you were crafting them on your own and in the kitchen there was constant motion. The demand for the bakery's artisanal delights had surged to unprecedented levels, leaving you to toil tirelessly day and night. Flour dust dances in the air as ovens hum a constant melody, and the rhythmic sound of mixers working overtime echo throughout the cramped kitchen.

The exhaustion is etched on your face, yet your commitment to delivering freshly baked goods prevails. Despite the challenges of being overwhelmed and the strain on resources, the bakery remained a beloved institution, a testament to the hard work and passion you had, determined to satisfy the insatiable cravings of your loyal customers. In the midst of it, one customer in particular vented his frustration directly at you, screaming 'Hurry up bitch' as your daughter witnessed the scene. Her innate protectiveness surfaced.

“Don’t you dare yell at my mommy!” your daughter exclaimed with a fervent tone, defending her mother from any perceived injustice.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, you evil little twat!” The customer's offensive remarks only intensified as he walked out. It took every bone in your body not to chase after him and beat him with your rolling pin.

It was hard enough to protect your kids from the darkness of the world on your own, especially since their dad left upon hearing about the third pregnancy.

It took what felt like an eternity to soothe her and her baby siblings, surrounded by a bustling crowd, and amid the sea of people, you earnestly attempted to lift her spirits. The words that had been shouted at your girl poked at your mind, only making you more upset, tempting you to pursue the source of the disrespect. Instead, you gestured towards the adorable kiddie bakery you had set up just for her. Like magic, her attention swiftly diverted to the charming mini coffee machine, and a radiant smile graced her face. In that moment, the whimsical allure of the kiddie bakery became a beacon of joy, successfully replacing the distress with the simple pleasures that brought delight to your precious child.

As the minutes ticked away, your anticipation swelled, eagerly awaiting the moment to close the shop and embrace precious moments with your children. The thought of leaving the demanding day behind and immersing yourself in the warmth of your shared time fueled your excitement. The prospect of creating cherished memories with your kids provided a comforting beacon at the end of a challenging workday, infusing you with a renewed sense of joy and purpose.

“Look mama! I’m just like you!” She giggled, waving a miniature coffee cup in her hand.

“Uh huh! Just like mommy, Lilly! Now let me take this nice customer’s order!”

You turned back to the older woman, smiling at her to signal that you were ready for her.

“Where is their father?” Her tone becoming more nasal.

You were speechless.

Who asks that kind of question? In public too? Who was this woman and what the hell did it matter where the father was?

She needs to mind her own business and get out of your store.

Her wrinkled face was a canvas of disdain, each furrow and line expressing a clear distaste. As she shook her head, the movement stirred her shorter cut hair, accentuating the palpable sense of disapproval that seemed to emanate from her presence.

Observing the unraveling state of her knitted turtleneck, you couldn't help but surmise that even her cat must harbor some disdain towards her. Almost every string had been pulled loose, leaving a visible mark of feline mischief on the once neatly adorned garment. The woman accompanying her, evidently embarrassed by her, made a sincere attempt to apologize for her antics, but her efforts were promptly cut off by an abrupt interruption.

“Child out of wedlock, I assume? C’mon Henrietta. We will not support such sinful conduct.” The snotty woman proclaimed.

Humiliation spread throughout your body as you took in what just happened. She strut away, dragging Henrietta behind her. You still sat in shock, the little bell above the door being the only thing to summon you back to reality. Thank god there were only two people there.

“Don’t listen to her, you’re doing great mom!” A compassionate woman in the vicinity cheered, and her warmth resonated with you.

In response, you offered her a grateful smile, silently resolving to express your appreciation in a tangible way. You made a mental note to make her next order complimentary and to bake some additional cookie brownies as a special gesture of thanks during her future visits.

“Hey, they could even bake like you! Look at her!” Her friend said, pointing at Lilly.

As those customers walked out, a sense of weariness settled in, prompting your decision to close up shop. Retrieving bank bags and beginning to write the deposit, you reflected on the contrasting dynamics of Manchester compared to the city you called home. In this new setting, you encountered a diverse array of patrons—some kind, others eccentric, and a few downright rude. Today had been marked by not just one, but two unpleasant incidents, causing you to reconsider bringing your child to the shop.

The challenging moments made you question the idea of having your little one around, but the lack of alternatives and financial constraints left you with no other choice. The complexities of managing both a business and parenting in this environment weighed heavily on your shoulders.

Seeking solace in music, you reached for your phone and shuffled through your playlist. The familiar tunes began to play, and you found yourself humming along with the lyrics, the melody providing a comforting backdrop to the routine task of pulling out the cash drawer. The rhythmic motions and the soundtrack of your choice served as a brief break, temporarily easing the strains of the challenging day and bringing a touch of familiarity to the closing ritual.

“Ooh I know this song mommy! I wanna dance! Dance!” She hopped up and down, waiting for you to come to her side of the counter.

“Okay, but After I dance with you I have to finish work so we can go home.” You softly agreed, coming out from your workspace.

“Yay!” With an exuberant cheer, she quickly seized your hands, initiating a playful run in a circular motion to twirl you around in a slightly uneven dance.

Feeling the rush of excitement, you couldn't help but laugh as she grabbed your hands and started spinning you around in a slightly asymmetrical circle. The world blurred around you, and the joyous atmosphere filled the air. Her laughter mixed with yours, creating a symphony of happiness. The action became a memory etched with the warmth of shared joy and carefree spontaneity. As you spun, you couldn't help but appreciate the simple beauty of the memory formed through a spontaneous dance.

You picked her up, assisting her efforts by spinning you both around as best as you could manage. She reached for the ground and you set her down, grabbing one of her little fingers to ‘spin her like a princess’, something she loved so much.

“You remind me of a princess, mama.”

“Oh honey, I can’t be a princess, you’re the princess. Do you know what that makes me?”

“A queen!” She shouted, excitement painted all over her face.

“That’s right! Now I’m going back to work, okay?”

“But mamaaaaa-”

“I’ll bring us home some cupcakes!”

“Pinky promise?” She held out her chubby hand, pinky pointing toward you.

“Pinky promise.” you locked pinkies with her before quickly making your way back behind the counter.

Wrapping up for the night proved to be straightforward, with all figures aligning precisely as expected during the closing process. The register reading provided a clear overview, leaving you satisfied with the financial aspects. However, the impending challenge lay in the cleaning tasks that awaited, constituting the only demanding aspect of the night's conclusion. Ammonia and bleach started to waft through your air system, delivering a sickly sour smell. The mop was obviously beat, but you continued to use it, keeping the mindset that every time something becomes slightly inconvenient you wouldn’t blow money on it.

The task of mopping the floor seemed to stretch on indefinitely, especially behind the counter where the process took longer. Lost in thought, you had overlooked sweeping up the powder. Shaking off the distraction, you headed into the kitchen and then to the back to retrieve the broom.

“And your total is- a hundred pounds!”

Your daughter's excited shouts resonated from her kiddie bakery, and initially, you assumed she was merely chatting with her siblings, who both sat on the floor by her or an imaginary friend. However, the moment took an unexpected turn when a deep, raspy voice chimed in, catching you off guard. You rushed out from the back of the store, terrified for your daughter's safety.

“For a black coffee? ‘S it that good? I’ll take a sugar cookie too.”

"Then that will be one hundred and fifty!”

The man was clad in a black balaclava adorned with a skull, and he wore a complete military-style uniform from head to toe. Your curiosity piqued as you wondered about his presence, considering the place was closed. His hand dug into his pocket and whipped out a worn wallet, handing her three hundred.

"'ere, for all the trouble. Do y'know where the workers are?"

"Mommy is right there!" She pointed at you excitedly, staring at the wad of money in her tiny hands.

Rising from his knees with a grunt, he approached you, and the intensity of his gaze was enough to send a shiver down your spine. As he reached the counter, you couldn't help but notice the sheer size of the man. His arms were robust, layered with muscle, with a hint of fat softening the edges, but the overall impression was one of burly strength.

"I'm so sorry sir, but how did you get in here? We've been closed."

And at that moment you noticed the sign on the door, still flipped over to the side where customers would read 'open'. The discrepancy between the closed establishment and the sign's misleading message added an extra layer of embarrassment to the conversation.

"'Said opened. Door wasn't locked." He grunted, still staring at you with those powerful brown eyes.

"Well, I'll get you your order free of charge. I'm so sorry sir, I thought I had flipped it!"

"No' a problem. Black coffee, no sugar or anythin' like that." He turned his nose up visibly under his mask when he said sugar, as if sweetening coffee were disgusting.

"Absolutely! Lilly, baby, give the nice man his money back please."

Lilly's expression fell, a touch of sullenness crossing her face as she gazed at you with puppy dog eyes, silently conveying disappointment.

"Don' need it. Make 'er save it for college. All three yours?"

"What?"

"The kids."

"Oh, yeah. That's Lilly, my little baker in training," you say gently, pointing at your four-year-old. The pride in your voice reflects the joy of introducing your young one's budding skills in the world of baking.

"That's Arthur, my two-year-old," you remark, gesturing toward the baby wearing a diaper and a blue-and-white striped shirt, running in circles before finally settling down.

"And that's Missy, the youngest," you say, pointing at the infant. The little one adds a tender touch to the family scene, completing the trio of your adorable children.

He grunts, a hint of amusement in his expression, observing you as you bounce back and forth in the kitchen, diligently ensuring all ovens are turned off. As you return to the counter, you have his black coffee ready in hand, a seamless blend of hospitality and efficiency.

"Thanks."

"Of course. Come back tomorrow! I can make you some sweets!" you suggested.

"But your sign said closed on weekends."

"I'll be doing stock, I can open up just for you."

You swore you saw his eyes crinkle behind that mask.

"Alright. See you then." And just as quietly as he came, he left. The promise of a personalized visit seemed to bring a subtle warmth to the mysterious man's departure.

For the first time in a while, you were excited to open up early.

Taglist: @lunamoonbby @konigslittleliebling

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

grian’s new episode got me going hm

might probably do a gem-centric one soon because they make each other worse

-

He wouldn’t let go.

Grian clutched onto the fishing rod, his grip having worn down the wood by now. It was a week into the server. It felt like an eternity.

Sometimes he forgot what came before, before he started fishing.

He recalled, yes. Things like the big moon, Grumbot, whatever. They seemed less memories and more fragmented experiences just laying around waiting for someone to claim them.

It was like his mind was a vase, and the ocean had smashed it into a million tiny little pieces, left for him to fish out.

Another salmon. Grian let out a short, harsh shout and threw it in a nearby barrel and cast his line again.

And again, and again.

There was one rod, seven or eight lines. He peered through the web of black lines and distinguished the single working one. The ocean kept fooling with him like that.

“It kind of looks like a net,” Gem’s voice chirped behind him. They didn’t bother with greetings now. They just talked about fishing.

“I don’t even know how this happened,” he said.

“At least you can get mending ten times as fast now.”

“No, only one works.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Then, having exhausted all possible subjects of conversation, they lapsed into an awkward pause. Grian caught another fish. Cod.

Gem made to leave, but couldn’t resist a final comment.

“By the way, you should sleep. And, uh, shave, unless you’re going for that rugged aesthetic.”

She left.

Was it that obvious? Grian wondered. That he was addicted?

Come to think of it, he hadn’t thought of himself for so many days. He’d just been fishing, dragged himself to chip away at his base, and then went back to fishing.

He stared at himself in the water.

Oh.

Beard, check. Eyebags, check. Suspenders and a beanie for some reason. A bobber hanging from his waist and his pants dipped in seaweed. His hair was overgrown and soaked. There was even a patch on his sweater, for goodness sake.

Grian only felt it now. How had he not noticed it before? Was he just that focused on fishing? His hand subconsciously wandered to his face and brushed against the scales.

The what.

Grian spun around, looking for a clearer mirror than the water, rubbing his cheek in disbelief. Scales, wet and smooth like a fish. He should know. He’d handled thousands of them in a week.

He glanced at his arm, the texture very fishy in both ways. His heart dropped. He just wanted mending, not this. He was supposed to be the fisherman, not the bloody catch!

“Gem, Gemgemgemgem!” He yelled.

Gem turned. “What?”

“I think I’m turning into a fish!”

To her credit, Gem didn’t react much. She did run closer, but she didn’t scream or anything. She just said, “Hmm. Same.”

“What do you mean, same?” Grian yelped.

She rolled her eyes and pulled up her sleeve, revealing the same scales. “It’s probably a side effect, chill. Impulse wasn’t actually a dwarf last season, he just started growing shorter. It’s the Hermitcraft air or something.”

Grian stared at her, gears in his brain turning furiously to process her words. “Didn’t you guys base near the water?”

“That’s true, that’s true. I don’t think that was it, though.” Gem said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Anyway, I need to build. See ya.”

She sauntered away.

Grian didn’t have the presence of mind to call her back. He dropped the rod he’d been clutching this whole time and stared at his hands, moist from sweat.

He was short of breath, and after fifteen seconds he realised it wasn’t just from the panic. He physically couldn’t breathe.

Fish can’t survive on land.

Before he could think, before he remembered he was human, Grian leaped into the water, which enveloped him comfortingly like a drug.

The part of Grian that was still Grian realised this was like walking into the tiger’s cave, and forced himself to surface, gasping for air. He ordered his brain to use the lungs he had, and he started breathing again.

He clambered up onto the pier, and laid down on the wood, drained. He fumbled around and found the rod. Well, what else was there to do? Cast line, sit down, wait.

After all, the next one could be the one.

He just wanted mending. Then he’d stop. He’d stop.

The ocean wouldn’t let him go.

[pocket-watcher]

Story where a Cheshire Cat entity kidnaps people who all know each other (same class? Workplace? Camp?) to play Wonderland roles in its pocket dimension. Its last victim tries to free everyone only to become its Alice for eternity. Probably some Cheshire body shenanigans for the hypnosis parts

Ooo this is interesting! I’ve never read the original Alice in Wonderland, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I do think it could use a little more hypnosis…

Francine loved stories.

The hero comes, saves the day, and everyone lives happily ever after.

She would read on her commute, her book bounced back and forth by the rickety train. She’d catch herself daydreaming during meetings of a character coming to whisk her away. She would hope and pray for an exciting dream at night that she could replay in her head the next day.

But they were just stories.

Until one day, when Caine in accounting didn’t show up for work.

And then Debra went missing.

And Steven. And Layton.

And even her manager Bella.

It was a ghost town in the office. Francine couldn’t hide in her stories any longer. People jumped at every noise, tip-toeing around each other.

Someone said they saw some kind of creature skulking about.

Francine was scared, sure. But the police said nothing could be done without evidence.

She thought maybe they knew something and were trying to keep it hush-hush.

Francine, in the silence of the office, found herself dozing off a little.

And that was when it got her.

She fell right through the floor and into a plush seat at the head of an impossibly long table, set for afternoon tea.

“Finally! You’re late.” Caine said, plastic smile, and a giant top hat.

Francine froze, mentally replaying the previous moments in her head, control c-ing and v-ing her excel sheet over and over.

“Did I die…?”

“Heavens no, Alice! You just arrived at the tea party!”

She whipped round her head to see Debra dressed in a waistcoat with a rabbit headband.

Next to her were the others: in reds and whites, matching striped shirts, and all with teacups in hand.

Next to her she spotted a pair of floating eyes.

Naturally Francine jumped out of her seat and screamed.

The eyes became a head, which also had a cat-like body that faded into view.

“What are you?!” She yelled.

“Oh Alice, is that any way to treat an old friend?” The cat smiled, twirling around in the air.

“I don’t know you.” She stood defiantly, staring at her coworkers still-smiling faces. Their eyes were locked on her. “And I’m not Alice.”

“Yes you are… you just need a little persuading.”

The cat drew closer and its eyes were all Francine could see. She recoiled at the bright colours, covering her eyes instinctively.

“Get away from me!!” She yelled, running to Layton’s side.

He grinned down eerily at her.

“Layton, please! It’s me!! You’ve got to snap out of it.”

He didn’t even blink.

A wispy tail appeared out of no where, whisking her backwards into the cat’s claws once more.

“Just relax, Alice. This is a tea party. It’s supposed to be dignified, you know.” Bella said, raising her glass and her pinky with her glassy-eyed look.

Francine thrashed about as the head behind her detached and moved in-front of her vision, blocking the others from her sight.

“Please, please… I know you’re still in there!” She screamed at them.”

Her eyes were scrunched shut. That’s when she felt it purring.

It relaxed her body. She felt she couldn’t move.

“Please. Anyone…” she weakly pleaded.

That’s when she saw the cat appear in the chair she’d been sat in. Her body was hunched over on the ground now.

“Come along, Alice. Just drink your tea. You’ll feel better…”

The disembodied paw held the cup out in-front of her.

Everyone sat, watching, waiting.

Her arm moved by itself and brought the liquid to her lips.

Despite her struggle she swallowed it, and as she looked up at her coworkers she saw her friends and she smiled.

“I’m terribly sorry about all of that. Is there still a seat for me?” She said sweetly.

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 27

‘Why did you invite him in?’ Severus hissed quietly to Toshi.

‘We couldn’t just turn him away in this state. Look at him!’

‘He’s obviously just been hunting, he will get blood everywhere.’

‘It’s a leather arm chair, it will wipe, dear.’

‘What if he’s the one behind the killings tonight…’

‘It’s looking very likely.’

‘Loki will go ballistic. Besides, he shouldn’t even know where we live.’

‘Of course he does, he knows where all of his teachers live.’ Toshi scoffed at Severus.

Severus sighed dramatically in response. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ He grumbled and turned to the counter to do so.

‘Do you have anything stronger?’ Chris called. Of course he’d been able to hear their conversation, since it was an open plan kitchen and living room.

Toshi pinched the bridge of her nose and walked over to the living room section.

Chris was so distraught, though he was a little distracted when one of her cats, Nokia, a black and white cat, sauntered into the room and went straight over to him, purring. She jumped up onto the seat beside him and butted him with her head until he gave in and began stroking her.

‘Bat will sulk with me for days when she finds out I’ve been petting another cat.’ He commented dryly.

‘I won’t tell her if you don’t.’ Toshi said as she walked across the room and sat down on the sofa opposite.

‘Come on then, spill. What’s going on? Though I think I have a pretty rough idea of what’s happened, do I need to get my weapons out on you?’ Toshi asked with a small growl and sat back, arms folded over her chest.

Chris ran a hand down his face. ‘I’ve really fucked up… I just…’ He put his face into hands and screamed FUCK into his hands.

Toshi frowned and leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs. Severus walked over with the drinks, he put Chris’ down on the coffee table on front of him. A glass of whiskey.

‘I slept with Louise last night, nothing sexual, just cuddling. Being so close to her, initially I felt so calm and at ease in the moment. Though when I left earlier today, I could feel myself getting so agitated. Craving her, but more... I wanted nothing more than to go get her and just…’ He stopped himself from saying what he was about to say and snarled at himself.

‘I needed to get it out of my system. I went on a hunting rampage… Seven humans… I didn’t even care to find out if they were innocent or not.’ He said, they could hear shame in his tone. ‘I couldn’t stop myself, my instincts were going wild.’

‘SEVEN?’ Toshi yelled. ‘I’d only heard about five!’

‘Yes… seven.’ Chris confirmed, he picked up the glass of whiskey and downed the whole drink in one go, making Severus raise an eyebrow, he noticed that Chris’ hand was shaky.

Toshi stood up and began pacing, now she was beginning to think that she shouldn’t have let him in after all.

‘I thought you were over this, Chris! Why didn’t you just come to me in the first place? You know I can point you in the right direction for prey!’ She snapped at him.

Chris clenched his jaw and closed his eyes a moment as he took a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight… I just needed to hunt.’ He growled low.

‘How long have you and Louise been together for?’ Severus suddenly asked.

Chris frowned for a second, then responded. ‘Around four months now.’

Severus nodded. ‘That is quite a long time to be around your soulmate, without being able to do what your instincts are screaming at you to do.’ He said sympathetically.

‘What’s with the change in tune?’ Toshi asked Severus as she sat down again.

Severus put his hand on her knee and gave her a squeeze. ‘If I’d had to wait as long as Chris has, I suspect I’d have ended up doing the same. You know your scent drives me wild, it’s the same for Chris with Louise. Though he can’t do anything about it yet, being able to drink from your soulmate and have sex, it helps calm everything down because our instincts are getting everything they need from their soulmate.’ He said calmly.

Toshi grumbled and ran a hand down her face. ‘I guess so… I just… Seven?!’ She looked at Chris again.

Chris hung his head down in shame. Nokia purred at him and headbutted his head, making him shoot up, he looked at the little cat and began stroking her again. Feeling a little bit of contentment with the furry animal calming him.

‘Stop being such a little traitor, Nokia.’ Toshi half grumbled at her, though she adored how friendly she was to everyone.

‘I… I don’t know why I even came here… I’m sorry.’ Chris blurted out and stood up abruptly to leave.

‘Sit your ass back down, hound dog. You obviously came here for help. So you’re going to let us give it to you.’

Chris glared at her for a moment and it took everything in him to bite his tongue, then he sat down again, albeit reluctantly.

Severus hid a little smirk behind his cup of tea, seeing Chris do as he was told from Toshi was highly amusing to him.

‘Look, I know I fucked up. Badly. When I finished with the last one, it’s like I came out of the frenzy… I can’t stop thinking about Louise, she’s going to hate me for this. I don’t know if I can tell her.’

‘You definitely need to tell her. She deserves to know. Just be honest with her. She won’t hate you. She adores you, and understands you more than you think.’ Toshi said calmly.

‘I don’t see how I’m any better than Ray.’ Chris said with a lump in his throat.

‘Don’t start with that. You’ve not hurt her, and you won’t…’ Toshi paused a moment, she couldn’t believe she was about to say this. ‘If anything, I guess this has shown that when things get intense for you, you don’t hurt her. You go for others, instead. As your outlet. Which is good, for her…’

‘Besides, I don’t think it’s Louise you need to be worried about telling.’ Severus said slowly.

Chris raised an eyebrow in confusion. Then it dawned on him who he meant.

‘Loki…’ Chris muttered.

‘He’s going to kill you.’ Toshi commented.

‘He can try.’ Chris growled.

‘I don’t think you should tell him.’ Severus jumped in with.

‘You don’t?’ Chris asked.

‘Louise is the one you need to speak to. We all know how Loki will take it. He doesn’t need to know. It will just be fobbed off as some rogue vampires, we will be on edge for a week or two until it’s forgotten. As always. What good would come from telling him?’ Severus asked calmly.

Chris slid a hand through his hair and sighed. ‘I guess no good…’

‘True. Unless it was a matter of life and death for him to know, I guess it won’t do any harm. Though Claire can’t find out either, or she might slip. So you’ll need to ask Louise not to mention it. Which might be hard as they are super close.’ Toshi hummed.

‘I’d feel bad asking that of Louise.’ Chris sighed. ‘Maybe I should just tell him, too.’

‘NO!’ Toshi and Severus said at the same time, making Chris raise both eyebrows.

‘See what Louise says first, then take it from there.’ Severus said calmly.

Chris nodded. ‘I am sorry for turning up like this… I didn’t know who else to go to.’ He said sheepishly. It wasn’t easy for him to go to someone for help, and they knew it.

‘I’m glad you did… Even though I want to drive a stake through your heart and rip out your teeth for my collection for killing innocent humans.’ Toshi said darkly.

‘Your collection?’ Chris wasn’t sure if he really wanted to ask or not.

‘Oh yeah, I’ve got a collection of vampire teeth downstairs.’ Toshi smirked.

‘Downstairs?’

‘In my basement. Wanna see?’ Toshi jumped up to her feet.

‘Uh… sure?’

Toshi slid the coffee table out of the way and pulled the rug back, revealing the trap door. She pulled it open and headed down.

Chris looked at Severus, who just shrugged and continued drinking his tea. Chris sighed and made his way downstairs after Toshi, hoping he wasn’t going to regret this.

When he reached the bottom of the concrete steps, his eyes widened. The walls were covered with weapons, and also shelves with pickled vegetables and then, as she had mentioned, there was a very large glass cabinet against the back wall that took up nearly the entire wall.

‘Holy shit.’ He chuckled and went over for a closer look. ‘Well, I guess I know where to come if I ever need replacements.’

‘If you let yourself go feral like that again, your teeth will be joining them.’ Toshi threatened.

Though she knew that Severus was right, it would be super difficult having your soulmate so close. Yet not being able to bite her or have sex, it would drive him nuts. She was kind of surprised he’d lasted this long without going crazy.

Chris hadn’t realised before just how many vampires she had actually killed over the years. He was engrossed in the cabinet, in half amazement and half uneasy, that he never saw the blur of ginger up on top of said cabinet.

When Chris took a step backwards, just before he turned back around to Toshi, a cat leapt down from the top of the cabinet with a loud yowl, making Chris jump out of skin. The cat landed on front of him on the floor and hissed at him, claws out.

‘FUCKING HELL!’ Chris yelled out as he stumbled backwards a bit.

Toshi couldn’t help but laugh. Chris turned to face her when the ginger hissy cat started trying to attack his lower legs.

He was surprised to see she had another cat on her shoulders, a grey/blue fluffy one.

‘How many damn cats have you got?’ Chris asked in shock as he tried to get the hissy one to stop going for his legs.

Toshi just smirked and shrugged. ‘A few.’

‘Get this damn thing off me.’ He huffed and stomped away towards the steps, the cat finally stopped attacking him.

‘I can’t control Tiberius. He only really listens to Sev.’ Toshi laughed and followed Chris as he headed back upstairs.

He stopped dead when he got near the top, as there was another cat lying on one of the steps. A black and white cat, sprawled out in the way. Without a care in the world.

‘Are you kidding me?’ He turned to Toshi, eyes wide.

‘Ah, that’s Dr Doo Da.’

Chris stared at Toshi, in utter disbelief. ‘Is he going to attack my legs if I step over him?’

‘Nah, he’s pretty chill.’ Toshi assured him.

‘If I fall back down these steps, you’re responsible.’ Chris pointed a finger at her.

‘Easier way to get your teeth, I suppose.’ Toshi shrugged with a smirk.

Chris glared back at her in response, he took a chance and stepped over Dr Doo Da, who thankfully didn’t move, just opened one eye to look up at him and gave him a small meow in acknowledgement.

‘I guess from the noises, you’ve met some of the family?’ Severus asked casually when Chris and Toshi emerged from the basement, he was reading a book and didn’t bother to look up.

‘Yes… That orange one is nuts.’ Chris huffed.

Severus chuckled lightly in response.

Nokia chirped in delight at seeing Chris again, she jumped off the chair and wound herself around his legs. Chris sighed and shook his head. ‘I like this one.’ He bent down to briefly pet her again.

‘Do you want another drink?’ Toshi offered, though she saw Severus glance at her briefly with an annoyed look.

‘No, thank you. I’ve taken up enough of your time. I need to message Louise and organise to meet with her.’ Chris sighed. ‘I really appreciate your help, both of you.’

Severus put his book down and nodded. ‘Just don’t do anything rash in regards to Loki, the last thing we need is for you two to be handbags at dawn with one another again.’ He grumbled.

‘I won’t. I’ll see how Louise takes it. I might need to move across the world anyway, if she never wants to see me again.’

‘She won’t. I’m sure of it.’ Toshi assured him.

‘I sure hope you’re right.’

‘Just get changed and cleaned up before going to see her, at least.’ Toshi said as she saw Chris to the door.

‘Oh, really? I thought going covered and stinking in blood would be the best option.’ Chris said snarkily.

Toshi rolled her eyes at him.

When Chris opened the door and stepped outside, he stopped abruptly. There was FIVE cats in the garden outside. One was playing, chasing a bird. Two were just lying sleeping, and two of them were sitting on the path, watching him intently.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. NINE CATS? You have NINE CATS?’

‘Ten actually, Diabetes will likely be in the bedroom sleeping on the bed.’ Toshi grinned.

Chris stared at her in disbelief. ‘Jesus… If Claire and Louise ever come over, we will have to drag them away.’ He groaned and headed down the path, cautiously avoiding the cats, not knowing who was friendly and who wasn’t.

‘Let me know how it goes with Louise.’ Toshi called after him with a laugh as he stopped momentarily in his tracks to stare at Rudolph, her hairless cat that wore a jumper in the colder weather.

‘Unbelievable.’ He muttered under his breath with a shake of his head.

[bellatriestowritesometimes]

Know Me Better

Aaron Hotchner x OC - sneak peek

(can be read as x reader I suppose?¿)

Here’s a peek at my Aaron Hotchner x OC fic that I’m working on currently. It is a chapter well into the story but I wanted to share a snippet because I’m excited to get it finished and posted! It will pick up from an established relationship between Hotch (& everyone else in the bau) and my OC - Alexandra Everly. It will be a slow burn, with plenty of angst & comfort. I am still working on it but once it’s done it’ll be uploaded onto Wattpad &/or AO3, but I’m happy to post previews as I go on here! (divider cred. cafekitsune)

Hope you enjoy xx 

Hotch didn’t say anything back. He just stood there, staring at Alex with such intensity that she almost saw the emotions shift in his eyes - anger, disappointment and disgust. Alex was sure in that moment Hotch had realised exactly who he had fallen in love with. She wasn’t some damsel in distress that he could save, she was a selfish, power-hungry mess who had jeopardised everything.

The weight of her actions crushed her, each second of silence amplifying her guilt. She felt exposed, as if he could see straight through to the core of her being, and what he saw repulsed him. How could he love her after this? How could anyone?

Hotch’s eyes, usually filled with understanding and warmth, now seemed cold and distant. She could almost hear the thoughts running through his mind, condemning her for her reckless behaviour, for putting her career and ego above everything else, including their relationship.

She wanted to scream, to cry out and beg for his forgiveness, but she felt paralysed by the fear that his love for her had vanished. The realisation that she had pushed him away with her actions, that she had let her insecurities and ambitions drive a wedge between them was too much to bear.

Alex felt her throat tighten, her chest aching with the effort to hold back tears. She was desperate for him to say something, anything, that would prove her wrong, that would show her he still cared. But as the silence stretched on, her hope dwindled, replaced by a suffocating sense of despair.

After what felt like eternity Hotch opened his mouth. His voice was calm, but the words were like a dagger to her heart.

“You’re off the case,” he replied simply, his tone void of the warmth she so desperately needed to hear, even if she didn’t deserve it.

Alex nodded her head, a bitter smile covering her face. She turned to grab her things, her movements numb and mechanical. Each step felt heavy, as if she were wading through thick mud. The room seemed to close in on her, the walls pressing down with the weight of her failure.

When she finally looked up, Hotch was gone. The sight of the empty doorway hit her like a punch in the gut, and she felt the last remnants of her composure crumble. The tears she had fought so hard to contain finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks.

She heard the shuffling of footsteps approaching and quickly brushed her tears away, turning around to get herself together. Part of her hoped it was Aaron, that he had come back to talk or even yell at her again. But that hope was dashed when she heard the distinctive click of heels against the floor.

“That sounded rough,” Roxy observed, her tone gentle and sympathetic.

Alex tuned to face her, forcing a weak smile. “Yeah, well, I put it all on myself.”

“You two together?” she asked, taking a seat as she undid her shoes.

“I don’t know anymore,” Alex shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Well, I’m sure the two of you will figure it out. You both seem sensible enough,” she said, trying to reassure Alex as she changed out of her work clothes into something more comfortable and less revealing.

“Since you’re not technically on the clock anymore and neither am I, how about I buy you a drink to cheer you up?” Roxy offered, with a kind smile. “They’re closing up now, so no more creeps.”

Alex let out a small laugh, wiping away the rest of her tears. “As tempting as that sounds right now, I think I’m okay.”

“Alright, well how about a cigarette? I see you’ve already made a start on my pack.” She pulled the packet out of her coat with a grin.

“Sorry about that,” Alex chuckled, taking one. “Lance was a smoker, and I was hoping he’d either ask for one or ask to use your lighter.”

“It’s alright, come on let’s get some fresh air. It’s too stuffy in here.” Roxy grabbed Alex by the hand and gently pulled her towards the door leading back to the club.

She didn’t fight Roxy and the two of them made their way outside. It was noticeably less busy than earlier. Her eyes scanned the room for any signs of Hotch but he must’ve headed back to the precinct with Emily and Morgan to meet the others and interrogate Lance.

The two of them sat down on the curb, watching the remaining people leave. Roxy lit her cigarette and then passed the lighter to Alex.

“Tough job,” Roxy hummed, taking a drag of her cigarette.

“Yours or mine?”

“Both,” Roxy replied with a wry smile.

Alex nodded her head, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I will not argue with you there. How long have you been doing this?”

“Three years now,” Roxy revealed with a shrug. “I kept telling myself that it was only temporary, that once I made enough money, I’d quit. But here I still am.”

Alex glanced at her, sensing the mix of resignation and acceptance in her voice. “It’s hard to leave, isn’t it? Once you get caught up in it all.”

“Yeah, it is. But we all do what we have to do to get by. How about you? How long have you been with the BAU?”

Alex took another drag from her cigarette, her mind briefly wandering to the events of the night. “Feels like forever sometimes. But I think it’s coming up to eight years’ now.”

“And you’ve been with suit man for that long?”

Alex laughed, shaking her head. “God no, he was married when I joined, and I was in love with my best friend. Or at least I thought I was. Who knows anymore?”

Normally, Alex kept her personal life tightly guarded, but something about Roxy’s openness made her feel unusually comfortable.

Roxy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Sounds complicated.”

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve just managed to complicate it even more by screwing everything up altogether,” Alex said, flicking her cigarette away and watching the ember spark briefly before dying out.

“Sometimes it feels like life’s just one big mess, doesn’t it? But you’re tougher than you think. You’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so.” Alex gave Roxy a small, appreciative smile. As they sat in silence, the weight of the evening pressed heavily on her.

Alex’s mind raced, trying to figure out what to do next. Hotch had taken her off the case, and she knew there was no point in trying to force herself back on it – she had already caused enough damage. Her thoughts drifted to the moment he found out about her meeting with Strauss, the look of disappointment in his eyes. She was indeed her father’s daughter because all she could think about was a glass of wine to accompany her sorrows.

She felt a pang of regret, realising how much she had let her emotions cloud her judgement. Normally so composed and in control, Alex was unaccustomed to feeling this vulnerable, this lost, but that seemed to be her life at the moment.

Away in her thoughts, Alex didn’t realise there was a figure approaching her and Roxy until he spoke.

“You’re with the FBI right?” Jackson, the bartender from the club, asked.

“I am,” Alex nodded, pushing herself up and standing.

“We were doing our normal sweep clean and we found this,” he explained, holding up a little black book. “I think you need to see what’s inside.”

Alex took the book from him and flipped it open. Inside were various pictures of girls, some she recognised immediately as Lance’s victims. As she continued going through the pages, she saw images of girls she didn’t know, which she quickly gathered were his next potential targets.

Roxy leaned over to get a better look. “Oh my God,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I know some of these girls. They work here.”

“This is… wow,” Alex mumbled as she made her way through the rest of the notebook. She landed on one photo near the back. It didn’t fit in with the rest, in fact it looked like it was ripped from a family photo. It was of a young boy with an older woman. Lance and his mother, if Alex had to guess. “Thank you for bringing this to me,” she said, glancing up at Jackson.

hehe that's all for now! i'll be happy to post snippets as i go if anyone is interested :P

[lyrakanefanatic]

Okay so I’ve been seeing @hathorneheiress do tig family hcs and I wanted to try that as well

but with my own!

- Grayson and phone girl (maybe 😜) would have one daughter

- Libby and Nash would have two girls

- Xander and max would have a boy and a girl, exactly the amount max wanted

- Avery and Jameson weren’t gonna have too many kids, but then Avery got pregnant with twins so they just left it at that 💀

- Avery’s daughter and Graysons daughter are 4lifers, and they hang out all the time

- they’re also super close with Xander’s daughter

- Nash and Libby’s daughters are polar opppsites. One’s quiet and shy and the other is popular and loud, but they both are best friends

- Graysons daughter is Rory Gilmore smart, and it’s her dream to go to Harvard like her dad (yes, like Rory and yes, I know Grayson dropped out 💀)

- jameson’s son and Graysons daughter have eternal beef for absolutely no reason, but they’re also very close. Also, Graysons daughter has definitely chased him around the house with a knife before.

- maxs son is super into books like his mom, and practically lives in the Hawthorne house libraries

-jameson’s daughter is super theatric and leads the school plays at her school

- and max’s daughter is smart, and more outgoing and extroverted than her brother

- she also loves board games and puzzles, and loves chess just like her mom

- Graysons daughter is TERRIFIED of sports. Like if she sees a ball coming towards her she will run away screaming, which kind of shocked Grayson since he was so athletic and into those kind of things

-but jameson’s daughter (and son) LOVES sports, and will take any chance she can get to do them

- all of the kids (except Graysons daughter) were terrified of Grayson till the age of 5, when they finally realized he’s nice and wont kill them in their sleep 💀

- Xander’s daughter uses big words even though she doesn’t know what they mean, like machiavellian

- Graysons daughter and Savannah are besties and hang out every chance they get

- all the kids love gigi and hug her every time they see her (🥺💖💖)

- the kids (except graysons daughter) were even more scared of Savannah then they were of Grayson, and Xander’s son would even cry everytime she would try to talk to him till he was like 7

-Nash and libby have a million holes in their backyard because their daughters wanted fish and they all died, and even though the fish kept dying after two days nash would still buy them even more 😭😭

- one time they rented a huge van/trailer and tried to do cute family road trip with all of them, and it did NOT go well

- graysons daughter and Avery’s son were both beefing (again, bc whose surprised) for absolutely no reason

-Xander’s daughter was throwing up on the side of the road because she has motion sickness

- jameson’s daughter was blasting Hamilton songs and was pissing everybody off, especially her brother, because apparently Hamilton songs “make his ears bleed”

- that started another argument

- xanders son kept asking Nash “are we there yet” every 5 minutes

- Nash’s daughter (the eldest and louder one) kept singing along to her music despite having headphones in, and then ANOTHER argument broke out between her and her sister

- Nash had finally had enough and yelled at all of them saying, “stop arguing! Can’t we all have fun as a family for once?”

- all the kids felt guilty but Jameson’s daughter and graysons daughter we’re trying so hard not to laugh

- anyways they finally made it to their place and never went on a road trip again

Okay I’m finally done, sorry it’s so long I have way too many ideas 😭😭

Again, thank you @hathorneheiress for giving me the idea 🫶🫶

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 15

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After the incident at the barn, the group is left in a state of sorrow and disrepair. Iris takes it upon herself to fix it, though not without a little trouble. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; group conflict, grieving family members, car accident, injuries sustained in car accident, no deer were harmed in the making of this chapter, daryl is pissed, alpha male bullshit and it shows

Chapter 15 - Saviour

Carl ran back to the house, Beth sobbing in Jimmy’s arms. She pulled from her boyfriend, collapsing down to her knees at her mother’s side.

“Ma…” She whispered, pushing another body from her mother’s corpse and turning her to face the sky. Beth screamed as the walker snarled, grabbing and yanking at her hair. Iris’s reflexes acted before she could think, and the knife whispered past her fingers and into the walker’s skull. Beth sobbed as she scurried back in the dirt, Jimmy and Patricia pulling her away. Iris stepped forward, pulling the knife from its skull.

The Greene family started the slow walk back to their house, not bothering with any words.

“We’ve been out, combing these woods for how long, and she was in there all along?” Shane asked, walking after them. Rick jogged to catch up, to keep him behind, but Shane was nothing if not a complete pain in the ass. “You knew!”

“Leave us alone!” Maggie yelled.

“Shane, just stop, man.” Glenn called.

“Get your hands off me.” Shane hissed, ripping from Rick’s grip. “You knew and you kept it from us!”

“I— I didn’t know.” Hershel croaked.

“That’s bullshit. I think y’all knew.”

“We didn’t know!” Maggie insisted.

“Why was she there?” Shane asked, following them all the way to the porch. Hershel turned around while the others went inside.

“Otis put those people in the barn. Maybe he found her and put her in there before he was killed.” Hershel offered.

“You expect me to believe that? What do I look like, an idiot?” Shane asked. Iris couldn’t handle it, turning around and walking back to the camp. She grabbed a bottle of water, downing the whole thing in one go. She looked down, seeing her knife in her hand, still dripping with brown, rotten blood. She wiped it on the grass before placing it back in it’s sheath.

She just kept thinking about the noise. All those gunshots. They’d have drawn every walker out for miles. Iris glanced over, seeing Andrea covering Sophia’s body with a blanket. She turned back, making for the RV, where Carol was sitting at the table by herself. Iris knocked before she went in, Carol glancing to her before facing out the window again. She took that as permission to come in, sitting herself down across the table, following her gaze. 

After a few hours, Daryl came and knocked on the door, looking up at Iris. She pressed her lips together.

“They’re ready.” He said softly. Carol shook her head just slightly. “C’mon.”

“Why?” She murmured, looking up at Iris.

“‘Cause that’s your little girl.” Daryl replied. She shook her head firmly this time.

“That’s not my little girl. That’s some other… thing.” She hissed. There was a long beat of silence. “My Sophia was alone in the woods. All this time, I thought… she didn’t cry herself to sleep. She didn’t go hungry. She didn’t try to find her way back. Sophia… Sophia died a long time ago.”

Daryl didn’t like that answer. He exhaled sharply through his nose and went back outside. After a few minutes, Iris extended her hand across the table, palm up. And after a few more minutes, what felt like an eternity, Carol took it.

-

When it was time to say goodbye, after they all had been buried, Carol sat outside in a field, sitting in front of the blooms of a Cherokee Rose. Iris joined the others and said goodbye, even though she and Sophia had never spoken. Daryl was taking it particularly hard.

Dale, Andrea, and T-Dog started to load the other walker’s bodies into the bed of Jimmy’s truck, to be taken to be burned. Daryl had disappeared, but Iris spotted him against the ruins of an old stone building, whittling sticks. But the world moved on, and so must they.

“Iris? Iris?” Lori called, running out of the farmhouse. Iris looked up from cleaning her knives. “Beth’s in some kind of catatonic shock. We need Hershel.”

“He’s gone?” Iris asked, frowning.

“Rick and Glenn went to look for him. I… would you go into town to bring them back? Please?” Lori pleaded. Iris sighed, looking over at Daryl and his angry whittling. It would be stupid to go alone, and most everyone was otherwise occupied. And there was no way she’d venture over to ask Shane.

“Alright.” She breathed. Lori thanked her profusely, running back inside the house to check on Beth. Iris huffed as she pulled herself to her feet, trudging across the field toward Daryl.

“Daryl?” She called. He grunted and she made a face, walking closer. “You sharpening your pitchforks?”

“What?” He asked sharply.

“I’m going into town to get Rick, Glenn and Hershel. Apparently Beth’s in some kind of catatonic state.” She explained. He grunted again. Iris huffed. “Will you come with me?” She asked pointedly.

“The bitch went window shopping. If Lori wants him she should go fetch him herself. We got better things to do.” He grumbled.

“Oh, do we?” Iris scoffed. “I don’t. We’ve been in decision limbo for the past week or so. Nobody’s doing anything about anything, and I’m tired of it.”

“Listen to me, Iris, we were out looking for that little girl every single day. I took a bullet and an arrow in the process. Don’t you tell me I’m not doing nothing. You want to kill yourself for someone else, have a nice ride. I’m done looking for people.” He hissed. Iris stuck her tongue in her cheek, trying to keep herself from chewing him out and making him angrier.

“Lori’s pregnant, Daryl. She can’t go looking for him in case something happens.” She explained lowly.

“So that means I should? Olive Oyl should learn to do something for herself once in a while. Just ‘cause she’s pregnant don’t mean her life’s worth more than anyone else’s.” Iris snorted at the nickname.

“Don’t do this, please? We’ve lost enough people, Daryl, we don’t need to lose you—“

“That ain’t my problem neither.” He snapped. “Lookin’ after you ain’t my responsibility.”

“Cute.” She stated simply, spinning on her heel to head back to the camp and gather her things. Dangerous or not, she’d find them. Hell, she’d been living on her own in Atlanta for months. If Daryl didn’t want to help her, that’s fine. She’d do it her damn self.

Iris found a car a little ways down the road and hot-wired it, happy to see enough gas to get her from town and back without trouble. She had a map on her, eyes flicking upward every so often to keep her from doing something stupid. Yet when she was about halfway there, a deer jumped out into the road anyways. She inhaled sharply in surprise, jerking the wheel to the side in order not to hit it. 

The car spun off of the road and flipped, landing upside down with a loud crunch.

-

Iris awoke again in the dark, to the sound of someone scratching at the car door. She opened one eye, wincing at the throbbing pain in her skull. She was incredibly irritated. At the car wreck, sure, but more-so at the fact that now she’d have to tell Daryl that he was right. And she hated being wrong. She reached up, feeling her head for wounds and bringing her hand away covered in blood. Head wounds were the fucking worst. In the past, she’d just tied on her bandana and that seemed to stop the flow, but that wasn’t much of an option at this point.

“Fuck.” She hissed. The walker in front of her started to press his face through the broken windshield, the edges of the glass catching on his skin and peeling it back from his skull. She recoiled, unbuckling the seat belt and pulling herself into the backseat. She pushed the opposite door open, kicking the door out when it got stuck, and pulled herself through.

Her boots hit the ground and she checked her belt for her knives. All present and accounted for. This situation was exactly why you strapped knives all over you. They wouldn’t move, even in a car accident. A pair of arms wrapped around her and she shrieked in surprise, shoving the walker backward. It peeled her jacket from her shoulders but she slid one arm out, managing to grab a knife and jam it into the walker’s eye. She pulled her jacket from his hands and slipped it back on, the sleeve now ripped.

-

Daryl watched the members of the group exit Hershel’s farmhouse after they finished dinner. He noted Iris’ absence and walked to her tent, grumbling to himself. He was trying to apologize and she didn’t have the damn courtesy to be there at all?

“Iris?” He asked lowly, standing outside her tent. He waited for a moment, hearing no movement or shuffling from the inside. “‘m comin’ in.” He mumbled, pulling the zipper down. He frowned when he saw that the tent was empty, standing back to his full height.

“Hey, Shane, you seen Iris?” Daryl called as Shane stalked across the campsite.

“Nope.” He called back shortly, shuffling into his own tent without turning back.

“Where could she have gone?” Lori asked, frowning down at her son, who was looking around for her. Daryl then realized that Iris probably decided that she was more than capable of going on her own, even if he had told her to get lost. Especially if Lori had asked her to do it.

“Damn it.” Daryl mumbled. “Dumbass.” He jogged over to his own tent, grabbing his crossbow and hooking it over his shoulder. “Went off looking for Rick.”

“On her own?” Lori asked, horrified. Carl scowled, adjusting his hat on his head as he turned toward the road.

“Yeah, ain’t that what you asked her to do?” Daryl growled in annoyance. He moved over to his bike, starting the engine and revving the motorcycle loudly. The tires skidded across the dirt as he pulled away from the farm, leaving the rest of the camp standing and watching in shock.

He drove faster along the road than he usually would, enjoying the excuse of open roads and no laws. It wasn’t long before he found the flipped car in the ditch, with a few dead walkers laid across the road. He left the bike running but stepped off, pulling out his crossbow as he kicked the walkers, ensuring they were dead. She wasn’t inside the car, and she was nowhere around the road or in the immediate vicinity. She could have ducked into the trees, but it was harder to see in the dark in the forest. More dangerous, too.

“Iris!” He whispered sharply, not wanting to draw any more walkers than he already would. He paused, listening to the cicadas in the hot summer heat. In the distance, he heard the far rumble of gunshots and his frown deepened.

Daryl got back on his bike, continuing down the road. She couldn’t have gotten far on foot, even if she wasn’t injured. The car looked like it had been flipped for a bit, but there was no telling how long she stayed there for. Good thing he was a damn good tracker. It was another five minutes before he noticed a silhouette walking along the side of the road, a ridiculous amount of knives strapped to her legs and hips. He pulled the bike to a stop in front of her, scowling as she stopped, folding her arms.

“You good?” He asked.

“Think so.” She replied simply. 

“You sure? Pretty nasty wreck.” He pulled out a flashlight, shining it in her face, over her limbs. Either than maybe a mild concussion, she seemed okay. There was dried blood on her forehead, but the wound had already clotted. “C’mon. Get you back to camp.”

��No. I told Lori I was gonna find Rick and Hershel, so I’m gonna find them.” Iris refused, pulling away from him. He reached out, taking her elbow in a firm grip.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed out here, doing shit for other people.”

“If we don’t do shit for each other, there’s no difference between us and them.” Iris hissed, gesturing to their greater surroundings. “I know you’re pissed about Sophia, and so am I, but there’s nothing we can do about it now, except make sure nobody else from our group dies.”

“Yet you’re out here, making me come get you—“

“You wouldn’t have had to if you’d come with me in the first place!”

“Sounds like some blackmail bullshit.” He grumbled. Iris scoffed, folding her arms. “Look, I don’t know what’s your problem, I’m out here saving your life!”

“Oh, god, my hero!” Iris cried sarcastically, mimicking… well, Olive Oyl. “I didn’t ask you to come save me! I have been on my own for months. I am perfectly happy being alone.”

“You don’t know what to do with yourself. You said it yourself, you’re just itching for something to happen.” He replied, huffing in frustration. “Well, here it is. Somethin’ happened, and now you’re needin’ my help! You’re not my responsibility!” Iris said nothing, sticking her tongue in her cheek while he yelled. He scoffed, throwing his arms up in the air, but he didn’t miss the way Iris flinched as he raised his hands. Yet, she stared him down fearlessly, the wrath of God behind her eyes, and heard whatever he had to say. Hard as nails, she was.

“I never said I was. Go back, Daryl. If it means that much, you should have left me to rot.” Iris hissed. She made to turn on her heel, to continue on the way to town. Maybe she could hot-wire another car— Daryl stopped her, his hand on her elbow again. 

They stared at one another, one glaring at the other and vice versa, for about five minutes before either of them broke away. Daryl’s gaze shifted as a walker shuffled out from between the trees at the edge of the forest, quick reflexes and a bolt from the crossbow and it was on the ground. He turned back to find her still staring at him.

“C’mon.” He mumbled, jerking his chin at the bike. She stared at him for a moment more before he got onto the bike, shifting forward a little and sat, simply waiting. Wasting gas, making noise, idling in a world facing the threat of— well, global warming wasn’t really an issue anymore, was it? There were barely any humans left to do anything.

For some reason, it felt like Iris was admitting defeat as she succumbed to her headache, getting on the back of Daryl’s bike. She kept as separated from him as she could, holding onto the back of the seat as he pulled off down the road, back to the farm.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 11 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

AO3 link

How We Got Separated

"Where are you going?" Emily asked, floating behind him.

Alastor did not answer. He kept making his way to the main doors that thankfully were easy to find. The door that he came out from was one of many in an ample circle full of other ones, but he could not care less to find out what was behind them. There were no other angels or winged creatures present. Only Emily that seemed to be more curious to know what he was planning than to stop him.

When Alastor opened up the crystal doors, he had to squint his eyes again. Why did everything in this place had to be so bright? How did anyone could see anything like that? As soon his vision adjusted, his stomach dropped through the floor back to home.

The sky was a clear perfect blue, decorated with fluffy white clouds. All the street were spotless shinny gold reflecting that could reflect anything like a mirror. Not a single trace of vomit, trash or blood as far the eyes could see. Nobody was fighting or yelling. Every creature that was passing by had their own set of wings and halo.

The air he was breathing in was too pure. It smelled vaguely pleasant, like someone was baking cookies everywhere at the same time. So perfectly organized, so immaculate that surely not even a pin would be out of place without getting fixed.

Alastor felt his own soul snearing. How could anything be so vile? How did anyone could live like this and not want to blow their head off to scape it? Where was the chaos? Where was the violence and grossness of the human condition? Where was the power struggle and the heart wrenching failure? Where was the fear that pumped the heart? Why nobody was screaming!?

What kind of monster could set up such a setting for eternity?

Controlling his own nausea, Alastor forced himself to move. He had already seen where he wanted to go. Emily noticed the direction of his eyes and perked up.

"Oh, do you want to see Saint Peter?" asked.

"Yes" said without looking at her.

The creatures that were on his way all moved to let him pass. They weren't doing it out of fear for knowing his reputation. They were just being polite. Some even said "excuse me" as if somehow it was their mistake that Alastor wasn't paying any attention to them.

Hell.

This place had to be the real hell after all. It made sense. He had too much fun back at home and now finally was receiving the punishment he deserved. His own personal hell. And he was called cruel? Oh, whatever he ever did, alive or dead, was child's play compared with the sadistic mind that would make such a horror as this one.

Alastor speed up.

"I can take you with him directly if you want" offered Emily, keeping up easily with him.

"No, thank you" said Alastor, clenching his jaw. "I missed the part where you explain why you are following me."

"Well, you seem… a little upset. And it's my job to spread joy to everyone so, I should probably do something with that. If there is any way in which I help you out to adapt better to Heaven, please let me know."

"Joy?" Alastor laughed, like that was a foreign idea. In this place at least it was and certainly more with this creature that was annoyingly remind him to Charlie. Good grief, that would be just the best way to torture him. To twist the knife on his gut real good. "Are you part of my punishment too?"

"What?" When Alastor didn't clarified any further, she continued, concern layering her voice. "I am… Are you okay? Maybe the travel was too abrupt and left you confused? I assure you, nobody is here to punish you. The punishment is over actually! You don't have to worry about anything anymore."

Alastor stopped on his tracks and turned to her.

"I assure you, my dear. I am very well aware and conscious of my surroundings" said, his smile feeling tense as his eye twitched. "That is not the issue I am facing. If you care about my wellbeing, you can rest easy now and come back to your heavinly duties. I don't need a babysitter."

Emily pouted at that. Clearly, she wasn't used to people rejecting her help. He started walking again and she didn't stay behind.

"I am not trying to babysit you!" she protested, floating at his side. "You are obviously going through something right now and a friendly hand goes a long way! If you let me help you, I am sure you will feel better."

Alastor looked around them, almost expecting mocking faces or people to look weirded out at anyone trying to be caring out of in the open. But everyone just kept walking, trusting that whatever was happening this Emily would know how to handle it already. That also meant that nobody was going to do anything to take this angel off his back if she decided to stick around.

He mentally groaned. Maybe if he played along for a bit she would be convinced to leave him alone.

"I changed my mind. Take me to Saint Peter" said and after a beat, added. "Please."

Emily arched an eyebrow, but she still smiled with a nod.

"Of course. I understand that for new souls it's always difficult to adapt to their wings. Later I can teach you how to handle yours! Lift your arms."

"My what" Alastor lifted his arms, trying to look at his back when suddenly Emily took him by the hands, elevating him on the air.

The travel up to the gold gates he had seen at a distance lasted only a few minutes. Emily let him land softly on the ground and floated to knock on the gate.

"Peter, can you come in for a moment? A new soul that just arrived wants to speak to you."

"Sure!" A perky voice answered on the other side and the gates opened. Alastor saw another road of gold up ahead that got lost in more clouds, no clear beggining or end. If he managed to jump from it, would he be able to get home or would just be a splatter on Earth, only to be brought back again? "What I can help you with?"

Alastor looked up to the saint and something inside recoiled at his too big openly friendly smile, full of good disposition to spare laid out in the open. Was this man ever really a human? Where was his nose? What did Heaven had against noses?

"I wanted to ask if you can see my name" said Alastor, after swallowing. "I believe there must have been a mistake. I shouldn't be here."

"Well, my friend, if you are here it must be because you are supposed to be here! Although it is weird that you didn't appear here directly. I am supposed to be the one to greet the new ones, not you, Emily" commented Saint Peter with a slight frown.

"That is because he is a reformed soul!" intervened Emily enthusiastically. "He appeared right in front of me and Sera at the very center of everything! That must be why he had a different way of entrance."

"Oh, seriously? Reformed from where?" Saint Peter looked at him with a new look of curiosity and Alastor showed his teeth on a too wide smile too, more than willing to bite if he put his hand on him. Saint Peter made a oh sound when understading reached him. "From downstairs. Right. Yeah, I can see that now. He is still a bit… rough around the edges, huh?"

"I am sure a period of adjustment is to be expected" said Emily, conciliatory.

"I will say. But anyway!" Saint Peter shrugged, elevating himself on the air to reach his book. With a flick of his wrist the thick volume floated in front of him, the pages moving from front to back. "I can take a look if that makes you feel any better. Your name, please?"

"Alastor… " Alastor looked down at his hand to see that his wedding ring was gone.

He was expecting something like that, it was only logical, but actually seeing it was still a new kick to the face. To make it even worse, his hands were so different now. The skin of his hands was desaturated brown instead of pure black and the tips of his fingers had lost their intense red color, turning into a muted pink. If Charlie was there, people wouldn't connect them directly as father and daughter even if they did paid attention.

"Alastor… what?" asked Saint Peter.

Alastor frowned. Did that last name even applied to him anymore? They had taken his colors, his family, why not his last name too?

"Try Morningstar" suggested anyway, without noticing the way that Emily's eyes light up. "If that doesn't appear, Abaddon."

"Morningstar?!" repeated Emily, looking him down and up. She gasped, holding her own cheeks. "Are you the father of Charlie Morningstar by any chance? I did heard that one of her parents was a sinner! I knooow…" The eyes of Emily darted for a second to Saint Peter, concentrated on looking in his book. "I mean, I didn't know that you were him! What a coincidence that you would be the first success of her hotel!"

The way she laughed, keeping tabs on Saint Peter, concentrated on his book, made Alastor suddenly a bit more interested on her. He decided to save that as a mental note for later.

"I am" said, relaxing a bit more around her.

Charlie did mentioned a seraphim that was willing to listen and believed on her ideals just as much as she did. This one had to be it. Emily smiled again, taking his hand to pat it gently. Alastor allowed her to.

"She would be so proud of seeing you right now."

He just let the silence fill the space until Saint Peter spoke up again.

"You are here" said, floating close to Alastor. He turned the book around so Alastor could see his name, at the very bottom, written with the same golden ink as any other. "Right there, see? Alastor Morningstar."

A small comfort, but a comfort all the same. Alastor clinged to that feeling as strong as he could. That is right, that was him. He was part of the Morningstar family, ring or not.

"I suppose you don't actually know why, though" said, knowing already that it was useless and useless it was when Saint Peter shrugged.

"Sorry, not my job" said, returning the book to its place. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Alastor looked at the saint and then at the gates.

"Oh no! What is that horrible thing over there?" Alastor pointed at something on the side.

When both angel and saint turned their heads, he made his way to the open gates. The stupidest and oldest tricks on the book sometimes could still work. But even though he was sure that his feet landed on the other side, he felt a pressure around him as if moving through a wave and suddenly found himself in the exact same place where he started.

"What are you doing?" asked Saint Peter, honestly confused.

Alastor grunted and ran again. For a second he thought this was working, only to be pushed back.

"Is… is he trying to leave?" Saint Peter looked to Emily to confirm that his eyes weren't deceiving him. Nobody had ever tried to leave.

"Mmm" Emily frowned with concern when Alastor raced a long way back and then throw himself to the open gates, with the expected result of landing on the floor over his side. He couldn't get hurt, but still it wasn't something she liked to see. "Alastor, I don't think that is going to work."

Alastor glared at her. The sudden rage behind his eyes took her aback, but did not scared her and that was even worse for his mood. She had no reason to fear him. Here they were on her home. She had the power and ranking over him, which meant he was at her mercy.

Emily offered him her hand to help stand up and Alastor took it. But instead of lifting himself up, he pulled the angel closer and spoke to her on a low, controlled, voice, just for her ears.

"Get me out of here or I will tell everyone you helped out the king of hell to have an unofficial meeting with a winner. Let's see what the rest of heaven thinks of a seraphim that is supposed to spread joy breaking the rules."

"Everything okay?" asked Saint Peter.

"Yes!" said Emily, quickly, turning around to him. Alastor was relieved to see that he had hit the nail on the head. He wasn't entirely sure she was the same seraphim when he said that. "Everything is perfect! Alastor was just… playing a little prank, right? Right, Alastor? A little joke for Peter?"

That was more like it.

"Yes, a prank" said, returning to his normal charming smile. "A winner trying to escape heaven after finally managing to get out of hell! Tell me if that is not the hilarious thing you have ever heard."

"Ooh, I get it now!" Saint Peter laughed, so hard that his eyes started to tear up. "That is hilarious! You would have to be an idiot to do a thing like that!" He calmed down finally, smiling to Emily. "Heaven could always do with another kidder, right? Makes things more interesting."

"Absolutely, yes" Emily bite her lip. "But, uh, I have to give Alastor the tour now. You know the drill! I will let you get back to work."

"Don't worry, it was a slow day anyway so I needed the distraction" Saint Peter chuckled as he patted the back of Alastor, completely missing the look full of murderous intent that he got as a response as he flew to the other side of the entrance no issue. "Welcome to heaven, Alastor. Feel free to come by anytime!"

"Thanks for your help!" said Emily, waving at the man until the gates were closed. Once she was sure they weren't moving anymore and therefore Saint Peter couldn't hear them, she turned to Alastor with tense fists at her side. "You know, when someone does a favor for you, most people would be grateful instead of holding it over their heads by blackmailing them!"

"I was grateful" said Alastor calmly", right until I got stuck here against my will. I was perfectly content back in hell."

Emily's eyes widened at that.

"Wait, really? I thought the hotel was for redemption. Isn't end up here supposed to be the goal?"

"Mine wasn't. I was only there to support Charlie" Alastor sighed, rubbing his temple. This is what it got him try to be a good father. "I had a daughter, a husband and a life I had built for myself after years of hardwork. Why, and pardon my french, the hell would I want to give up any of that to be here?"

"Oh" Emily looked down, twisting her hands together. "I-I am sorry, I didn't know. I thought this was what you were looking for. If you didn't, then of course you would be upset to being send to an entirely different realm."

Alastor let his shoulder fall. Truly, she wasn't more to blame for his situation than anything else was. At least she was able to actually listen instead of insisting how lucky he should feel for being there.

"I have to get back. My family needs me" Emily nodded, but her eyes still had doubt on them. Alastor crossed his arms. "Surely there must be a precedent to a soul being send back to hell. If my husband managed to get kicked out from here, there is no reason why I shouldn't."

"Your… Oh, right, Lucifer. I don't know, Alastor. Angels and human souls are not really treated the same. I think maybe the rules are a bit more strict for us. Heaven is supposed to be for humans after all."

Alastor thought of Adam. That crude, violent man who took genuine joy of slaughtering people. Besides that last detail, with no redeeming qualities that he could imagine. A human soul given too much power that reveled on it. Maybe that was the real reason why he still was up in Heaven while others had been casted out for doing a lot less. He had been deemed "worthy" already, the decision was final.

"I have no use for a place like this" said, disgusted at the thought. "Find a way to get me back or I will do it after telling everyone what you did. If I have to burn every house I come across and slash every neck that I can get my hands on, then I will. I will show to you and the rest of heaven how right they were sending me to hell."

Alastor wanted to call his magic to give his words more emphasis. But his shadows didn't respond and no tentacles were coming out of him. Did he even had any power left on this new realm? It made him sick just to think of how weak he had to be now. He didn't let any of that show on his face, smiling as usual.

Emily stared at him, not sure of how to respond.

"Okay, so, just so we are clear, we don't want to come to that, right? We both can agree there" asked after a while.

"I don't know, I feel with a particularly arsonist mood every minute I am away home" He sighed. "I am missing the battle too by being here. That doesn't help."

"You mean the… Oh" Emily floated closer and Alastor remembered that the rest of Heaven wasn't supposed to know about the extermination. He could probably use that as more leverage. "Is that how you ended up here?"

"Are you asking me how I died for the second time?" Alastor arched an eyebrow, amused. "Isn't that a morbid topic for an angel to feel curious about? Do you want me to describe how I felt myself drowning on my own blood, my dear? Or how I touched the injury of my neck open? Oh, wait, I could give you a demostration myself! Since Heaven won't let me have pain, I could just…"

"Do you do that a lot?" asked Emily suddenly. "I already accepted to help you out, Alastor. You don't have to try to intimidate me."

Alastor cleared his throat. Old habits died hard. She was more perceptive he gave her credit for.

"You do realize that try to send a winner to hell falls under the breaking rules category, right?" changed the topic easily.

"But if I don't do it, you will tell I already broke the rules before so what is the difference?" Emily frowned. "And just so you know, I would have help you even if you weren't backmailing me. If you genuinely are miserable in Heaven and want to return to your family, that would be the least thing I could do. I don't want anyone to be sad for all eternity."

"My mood is irrelevant. Like I said, they need me down there" clarified Alastor, holding his hands behind his back. "That is a nice sentiment, but I need to be sure we are going to be on the same boat, dear" Alastor smiled wide, petting her head like a little kid that was finally learning to multiply. "That is how we do things back in hell. I can't count on your word alone. If I don't fall, you fall. Or whatever else they decide to do with you, I don't know or care. Understood?"

"You are really mean" Emily pouted slightly, looking to a side.

Alastor did too when he thought of Lucifer calling him out.

"I know" said, before taking a breath. "How are we going to go about this? I already know what method I prefer to go with. The infinitely funnier one. Let's hear yours."

"Maybe the library?" suggested Emily. "It has a record for the most notorious souls that reached Heaven. If there is a soul that was vanished to hell after coming here, their name should come up. Then we can find out how they did it."

With no other alternative, that is where they went. The whole library seemed to be a cathedral by itself, way too big for anyone without wings or that couldn't fly, which was not an issue for Emily. As she was elevating herself to reach at the highest registers of books, Alastor had no other choice but to wait for her on the ground. That obnoxiously clean reflective ground that was returning to him the image of his new body there.

It was awful. Besides the change on his own skin, his hair had become duller like his finger tips. His whole suit had been changed into a soft yellow with some details in pure white, like the cross on top of his chest, the sleeves and the lapel jacket. He hated it, almost as much as the white his antlers had turn into, but none of that was as offensive and disgusting to his mind as the pair of white wings at his back and the halo above his head. Those two things in particular made him want to slam his head against the reflection until somehow he could destroy it or cause enough brain damage that he would die again.

On the time that Emily took to come back, he had at least the chance to learn to conjure his staff. White and gold, again, with a red heart on the center rather than an eye. The same connection was there, but it felt different, warmer than before. He wasn't sure that he liked that.

The only thing he could very well tolerate was his new brown eyes. He knew those were the closest to his when he was alive and that made it all the more alien after years getting used to the red ones.

Alastor gripped his hands together behind his back, elevating his gaze so he could ignore that. He didn't want to get used to any of this.

He was hoping she could have a faster solution at hand. A potion, a crystal, a portal. Anything that he could just eat, grab or jump into directly into the fiery pits that he called home, only to forget he ever saw any of this.

Purely because of habit, his hand reached out for his pocket and, surprisingly, something was actually there. He pulled his pocket watch and stared at it. Why was that still with him, but not his magic or ring?

"What is that?" asked Emily, floating nearby with a book on her hand.

The book in question was thicker than her entire torso. Despite that, she seemed to have no issue at all handling it.

"A present from Lucifer" said Alastor, frowing. "I don't know why it followed me to here."

Emily flied over him, throwing a quick glance to the object. Just that seemed to tell her everything she needed to know.

"It's made of angelic steel, isn't it? Then technically it already belonged to Heaven, so I guess it just came to its origin. With all the more reason if you are the owner" she explained, taking the book to a nearby table to open it up. One of the heavy half of the book slammed against the table, but no dust came because of course it wouldn't. Emily wasted no time going over the written lines, her eyes quickly jumping from one point to another. "It's a beautiful work, by the way! I haven't seen steel used like that in a long while. I guess people consider it old fashion now."

Alastor smirked at that. It was old fashioned in hell too. That is why Lucifer knew it wouldn't be out of place for him to have it. He opened up the cover and the clock was still ticking like normal. If what Vaggie said was true, then his time was still the same as it was on hell. Meaning that there had been already four hours since the battle started and two since he died again.

"Right now the first man must be dead" assumed, shrugging as he put the watch back where it belonged.

Emily shook her head at the casual comment.

"What-what? Why do you say that?"

"He killed the spouse of the devil. In hell" Alastor explained it like it should be obvious enough, relying his weight on the marble table. "A dumb move if I ever saw one. Lucifer doesn't know that I am here either. I will be very surprised if he left any of your little exorcist alive after that. Ah, what I would give to have seen it with my own eyes. It must have been truly glorious. To not witness my husband going all out on some puny angels and stain the ground gold with their blood in a mockery of Heaven might be the biggest tragedy of it all."

Emily stared at his wistful expression. She did not understand hellish beings at all.

"I don't know if to be creeped out or endeared by that" said after a while. Her finger was still moving over the page, following each line. "Your face and the words you say are confusing me."

Alastor chuckled. He took notice that she wasn't saddened by the lost of Adam or the other exorcists, which did earn her a few more points.

"Feel whatever you want, dear, but do keep searching. The sooner I can come back, the sooner I can ask Lucifer all the details."

Emily sighed.

"I don't know how long this could take" recognized, throwing a glance at him. "You know, while I am doing this, you could…"

"No" Alastor alredy knew what she wanted to say.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I won't go visit my mother."

"Ah." Emily played with the corner of a page for a second, almost shy. She knew she was threading on personal territory and didn't want to overstep his boundaries. Alastor could appreciate that. "Mmm, want to tell me why is that?"

"What is the point? Just so I have to say goodbye again? To tell her sorry, mom, I actually prefer to live in hell for the rest of eternity than live in heaven with you? By the way, we might never see each other again, so let these be my last words to you." He exhaled through his lips, practically a snort but not quite. Luckily for him the entire library was empty with the sole exception of a library angel that was floating on the furthest shelfs, no interested in telling them to shut up. "What mother wants to hear something like that from their only son? What person even?"

Emily pressed her lips together, thoughful.

"She does know Lucifer though. And Charlie" said, as gently as she could. "I am certain that she would understand that you want to be with them. And don't say again that your mood is irrelevant. You are allowed to miss your family."

Alastor's lip twitched as he straighten up again, leaving the table. Emily followed up his movements, not sure if she had screwed up or how badly.

"Keep looking, dear. I need some… disgustingly fresh air. I might see where I can get gasoline."

"You are not going to burn houses, right?" asked Emily. The snickering she could hear from Alastor did nothing to calm her down. "Hey, no cut anything either, okay? If there is anything here that can help I will find it! Just have some patience, alright?"

Alastor dedicated her a high thumbs up, not promising anything. When he heard a little groan from Emily, he draw a bigger smile. She was too easy to pick on.

He thought that a walk would help distract his mind and it did, replacing the thoughts of his mother with more disgust directed at this entire realm that he thought was capable of. Up head he saw someone dropping their purse while talking through the phone, only for a stranger to pick it up and give it back without even trying to see what was inside. The owner of the purse thank them, they shook hands and each of them were their separate ways.

Neither of them tried to knock the other. There was no demand for a reward. There was no second inspection of the purse to see that something gross hasn't been put inside. There was no bomb in the purse to surprise any of them. A perfectly civilized and calm interaction that nobody around them cared about.

How utterly disgusting. How could they live like this? Every day for eternity?

Alastor shook off the shiver that ran through him and continue walking. If Lucifer could find him no matter where he was with his own angelic powers, then no doubt Emily could do the same when she found his way back home.

He didn't had any concrete objective in mind, so his steps somehow end up in what looked to be a commercial area. Except that everything was for free all the time and yet, nobody was trying to take out the products off the shelfs or exhibitors. It was all registered calmly by a cashier and it was done, wishing everyone to have a good day with a genuine smile. Absolute madness.

He was looking for a butcher shop or appliance for the kitchen where he could see the knives, when a reflection in the vitrines made him stop. He turned around and wasn't wrong. An exorcist was just coming out from a ortophedic shop, testing out still the shiny metal arm coming up above where her elbow used to be.

Alastor felt his heart skip a beat. Did Lucifer do that? Did his love ripped an arm clean on his rampage? Oh, he could only imagine the scream of pain that exorcist would make. He hoped it had been a espectacularly high pitched one. The voice of a soprano perhaps whose painful notes could break glass. The only question was why was she alive. The thought of her somehow managing to escape was unlikely, but not entirely impossible, he imagined.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was already following after her, instinctively knowing to keep a healthy distance to not alert her at first. Did any of them survive too? Was Adam somewhere? But no, that would be actually impossible. Once Lucifer had a reason to want someone dead, they had to be a goner. Of that he had no single doubt.

When the exorcist turned in a corner, Alastor went there too and immediately was knocked against the wall. Her metal arm was pressing against his chest.

"Why the fuck are you following me?" asked the exorcist. Alastor noticed that her eyes looked so very tired and slightly red, like she had been crying not that long ago. That brought him even more joy to think were tears of grief. "If you like me so much, you could be less of a creep about it. But beyond that, I am not interested so you can forget it."

"Goodness gracious, no!" Alastor laughed at the misunderstanding. If he did ever had such intentions, she would have never seen him coming. He had been so curious that he didn't bothered to be as stealth as he could be. "I am a married man, my dear. Trust me, I have zero interest on you in that way."

The exorcist arched an eyebrow, looking down for a second before looking up again.

"I don't see any ring."

Alastor's eyes crinkled.

"My point still stands."

"Why were you following me then?"

"Well, you see, dear" started Alastor, grabbing her arm and twisting it to press it against the exorcist's back, putting her now against the same wall. Even without his powers, he still remembered a thing or two of how to use his body. "I just have a couple of questions and I will let you go. Simple as that. First one, you just came back from the extermination, didn't you?"

The exorcist froze in place, stopping her attempts to get ride of him and looked at him over her shoulder. It took her a couple of seconds, but soon her eyes widened with recognition.

"The red demon on the roof."

Alastor gave her a toothy smile. He had no idea of who she was without her mask. To him she was just any other of the exorcist that used the same dark uniform. It still made him happy that apparently she had been paying attention during the fight with Adam.

"The radio demon to be more exact."

"W-why… what are you…"

"To tell you the truth, I am just as confused as you are, dear. I am trying to rectify this mistake right now. If we are both lucky, I won't be on the same realm as you for long. But that doesn't answer my question, doesn't it?" Alastor let her go when he realized she wasn't going to fight anymore. She turned around, her hand holding onto the start of her mechanical arm as if it was suddenly hurting. Alastor sighed, lifting a finger to press against the metal plaque. "Did my husband do that?"

The exorcist looked creeped out by the tone of his voice. Alastor did not bother to hide the yearning on his voice. Here he didn't had to keep the secret from anyone.

"N-no…" Her eyes darted around, no doubt evaluating the prospect of risking causing a scene. If she did, Alastor would loudly talk about the extermination for anyone to hear. They both knew it. "No, I did it."

"Well, that was stupid and dissapointing. What happened after I was out of commission?"

"Adam…" The exorcist closed her eyes, as if saying that name was already costing her too much. Alastor smiled bigger. Oh, a true loss. How fun. "Adam went for the princess and Lucifer appeared."

"Then what?"

She sighed, her brow wrinkling at the effort of controlling herself. Alastor waited. He could have patience for this.

"I don't really know how, but he took us all out. It all happened so fast. First Adam, then everyone else."

"You are the only survivor?" asked Alastor, imagining alredy the terrifying vision that it must have been to witness.

The sounds of the scream and slaughter as they all succumbed to the king without quartel, learning way too late that they couldn't do anything against his king. More than ever since waking up in Heaven, Alastor so wished to hold Lucifer.

"That is so awful" said Alastor with obvious mirth. "He left you to be his messanger. What message did you had to deliver that it was worth your life, dear?"

The exorcist nodded.

"He said…" She swallowed, looking to a side. "He said I should get to live, knowing I couldn't do anything to save him. He also said that… all of that was the price for his sinner."

Alastor put his forehead against the wall above the head of the exorcist, closing his eyes as he breathed in. His whole body shivered as he bite down on his own fingers. The exorcist's eyes darted around as she took a silent step to the left, away from him. She didn't want to ask or know what was that about.

Alastor wouldn't have tell her even if she did, even if they were close friends instead of strangers meeting in the weirdest cicumstances. He wouldn't be able to describe the pure violent longing that made its home on the pit of his stomach, making him wish he could burn all of Heaven already. Burn them for ever making Lucifer to hurt himself and burn them again for having the audacity of keeping them apart. He wanted to do it now, until there was nothing more than ashes and the gold finally lost its shine, the sky turned grey and their gates was pulverized. The image was so clear on his head that it was already a beautiful painting. It would be his offering, his gift to Lucifer, given in a golden platter before he let the familiar flames consume him.

After a definitely uncomfortably long amount of time, Alastor woke up from his trance. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure as if nothing had happened.

"I am okay" said Alastor, fixing his suit. "Thank you for being so cooperative, dear. I have no use for you anymore so you can continue your merry way. I will keep my mouth shut too" added when she glared at him.

She had no reason to trust him, but for now the need of putting distance between the two of them was bigger than her reason. Right before she ran, her eyes fixated above Alastor and straighten up with a salute.

"Maam!"

Alastor had heard the delicate flapping of the wings already. When he turned around, though, it wasn't Emily that was standing behind him. That other, what was her name? The older one smiled pleasantly.

"You can go, Lute. I was intending to talk to our new resident. You earned yourself a rest."

Lute nodded emphatically, throwing a glance to Alastor before she put her legs to good use. Alastor likewise, hiting the floor with his staff.

"I don't believe we have been properly introduced, my dear! I am…"

"Alastor Morningstar" said Sera, tilting her head lightly. "Of course, Saint Peter told me already."

Was Saint Peter the gossiper of this place? Had he made a mistake already? No, they were going to find out his name sooner or later.

"Well, that is no fun!" declared Alistor with a lightheated chuckle. "I wanted to keep some sense of mystery for a while longer, but alas! Let me return the favor then. You are Sera, isn't it? I think Emily might have mentioned it when we first met."

The seraphim nodded. She was beautiful, he had to give her that, but she lacked the open arms aura of his husband. This angel kept her arms in front, where she could maintain at a distance what she didn't need.

"I am sorry I wasn't able to welcome you before. I had to have a talk with the elders about your… situation. You probably understand already how peculiar it is."

"No doubt about it!" laughed Alastor, wondering where the hell was Emily. "Emily has been a delight showing me around already! I don't think I will need any further assistance navigating this place. I appreciate the concern anyway."

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to offer you another tour" Sera put a graceful hand on his shoulder. "Would you mind coming with me so we can have a talk?"

This seraphim was older than Emily. Bigger and probably a lot stronger. Worse than that, he had nothing to hold against her. He had no choice but to follow, for now.

"Lead the way, dear."