#now edited for some glaring grammatical errors I noticed

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader: The Handmaid and the One-Eyed Prince pt. 2

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, violence, profanity

Part 1: Aemond Targaryen x Reader: The Handmaid and the One-Eyed Prince

What happened so far: You are a low-ranked noblewoman who is the personal handmaid of Princess Helaena and her twin children. Her brother-husband, Prince Aegon, attempted to assault you but you cut his face and escaped for which you thought Prince Aemond, his younger brother whom you've became close with, punish you for. In truth, Aemond protected you, knowing his brother was a degenerate and feeling like he did for you.

Edit: I didn't proofread before posting but I noticed now there are so many mistakes it hurts my eyes lol. I just changed some grammatical and stylistical errors, that's it.

HOTD AND GOT MASTERLIST

* * *

It been almost a moon’s turn since what happened between Prince Aegon and yourself. He dare not bother you again although he sent a venomous glare towards you each time you were in his presence. Princess Helaena was still oblivious to what happened and she was probably never to know. Prince Aemond, on the other hand, was spending more and more time with you. You often talked whilst you looked after the twins before what had happened on their nameday but for some reason this experience brought the two of you even closer.

Aemond would invite you to dine with him and his sister and escort you to your chambers almost every evening. Although you were Princess Helaena’s handmaiden, it was not unseemly for you to spend time together as long as you were not alone. Despite your low status, you were still considered a noblewoman.

On your nameday, Prince Aemond had a necklace made for you. One of white gold and rubies from the mines of the Hills of Norvos. You refused to accept it but he would not allow it. Prince Aemond put the necklace around your neck, his fingertips softly brushing against your skin. You hardly wore any other jewellery since.

One day, you were spending your free afternoon in Prince Aemond’s company, sitting in the terrace overlooking King’s Landing. There were lemon cakes brought and sherbet although you had lost all appetite when an envoy brought a letter for you.

“A letter from your lord father, my lady,” said the messenger and offered you a sealed scroll of parchment. You stood up and accepted the letter before breaking the wax seal. A silent gasp caught in the back of your throat as you read your father’s words. Your cheeks turned pale although you knew this day was going to come.

“What is it, my lady?” asked Prince Aemond and stood up as well, stoic as ever. You turned away as blood rushed to your cheeks and a gasp shivered on your lips.

“I…” you cleared your throat, “I am to return home. I am to be married to Lord Frey’s cousin after his forty-second name day.” You had not even noticed but your hands were shaking as you held the scroll. Prince Aemond felt a sharp pain in his chest as if someone had plunged a dagger through his lungs but he would not show it. Only his eyebrows formed a deep frown and his lips pursed in a tight line.

“You will do no such thing,” said Prince Aemond and took the letter from your hands. He made his way past you with confidence so certain it reassured you for a moment but you could not find a way around this marriage. It was your duty to marry. This was something both you and Aemond understood. It was the way of the world and a match with a Frey was an offer better than your family could ever hope for. Nevertheless, your eyes welled up with tears as you sat down, wishing you had a dragon yourself. You would fly away where you would no longer be a servant, nor a slave to any man’s whim.

* * *

Prince Aemond squeezed the letter so tightly in his hand that it became nothing but a small ball of unintelligible parchment. He marched to his lady mother’s chambers where he found Sir Criston Cole in front of her door.

“Ask my mother to see me, Ser Criston” commanded Prince Aemond without a courtesy shown. Ser Criston nodded and knocked on the door before passing Queen Alicent her son’s request.

“She will see you now, my prince,” said Ser Criston and stepped aside, closing the door behind Prince Aemond. The thought of another man touching you made Aemond’s hands shake with anger. As if it were not enough that his own brother nearly assaulted you, now a marriage to some old Frey cunt.

“Hello, my son,” said Queen Alicent with a warm smile and kissed her son’s cheek. He had always been her favourite child although she would never admit it. Aegon behaved as if he were not her blood at all whilst no matter how hard she tried, Alicent could never truly understand Helaena.

Prince Aemond usually responded with a kiss in turn but not this time. His face was as hard and unmoving as marble as he stared down at his mother.

“Aemond, what is it?” asked the Queen, her own brows furrowing into a frown. She knew something was the matter but her only hope was that it was not yet again something to do with Aegon.

“I wish to marry, mother,” said Prince Aemond unreluctantly. Queen Alicent’s frown softened and a small smile curved on her lips. She was relieved but only for a moment.

“Really? Well, that is joyous news, why the—”

“I wish to marry Lady Y/N of House H/N. She is Helaena’s handmaid,” announced Aemond unyieldingly. His lady mother paused, the frown returning to her face as well as her lips parting.

“Aemond, it is not fitting that you marry a girl—”

“I do not care about her wealth or her family’s power. We are the Targaryens – we have wealth and power. If is on the account of her blood you worry, mother, her lineage traces back to House Celtigar. You should well remember they were one of the three noble houses that survived the Doom of Valyria.”

“But Aemond,” began Queen Alicent yet her son cut her off once again.

“She is to marry Lord Frey’s distant cousin, Wyr Frey. Find a new match for him; someone he cannot refuse, but give Y/N to me, mother.”

“Aemond…” said Queen Alicent gently as she took his arms, ready to sway him from the decision.   

“I've given everything to this family. I've protected you, always, I've protected Helaena and I've protected Aegon even when I shouldn't have but you asked me to. 

“I've never asked for anything even when my eye was taken from me," said Aemond his steady, uniform voice growing darker with each word. Queen Alicent stared at him, her eyes big and watery. The corners of her brows angled upwards as a great sadness filled her chest because she knew Aemond was right.

“But I do ask for this, mother. I am asking for Y/N. Give her to me.”

“Very well,” eventually nodded Queen Alicent, “You may wed. I'll make all the necessary preparations and find a different match for Lord Wyr Frey.”

Prince Aemond studied his lady mother but when he was certain she was speaking honest, he thanked her.

“Thank you,” Aemond kissed his mother’s cheek. But before he could leave Queen Alicent’s chambers to find his betrothed, she spoke once more.

“This girl,” said the Queen, “She is the reason for the ever-increasing abyss between you and your brother, is she not?”

Aemond stopped on his tracks at the sound of his mother’s wary voice. The flame of his deep, unending anger blazed alive once again.

“Aegon tried to rape her, mother,” said Aemond with a voice as sharp as Valyrian steel when he turned around. “And he would have succeeded if she had not fought back, did Aegon tell you that?”

Aemond walked towards Queen Alicent menacingly. Her lips parted and her eyes widened in horror. “If he were not my brother and an heir to the throne, I would have hung him by his heels from the city gates, stripped naked and with his cock in his mouth,” said Prince Aemond, his face but inches from his mother’s. His black pupils dilated so much they nearly obliterated the blue-purple of his iris. His jaw was clenched and his lips pursed thinly.

Queen Alicent loved Aemond but that was the first time she was frightened of him. She swallowed and nodded lightly, unable to say a word as she looked away from her son.

“You may tell Lady Y/N you are to be married," Queen Alicent spoke quietly, "And Aemond," she called her son's name again. Prince Aemond turned around once again as he was about to leave his mother's chambers. "You have my word Aegon will not touch her ever again,” said Queen Alicent as she sat at her writing desk. A glimpse of a smirk hid in the corner of Aemond’s lips.

“I do not need your word, sweet mother,” said Aemond, locking his arms behind his back. “Aegon knows that should he ever even look at my future lady wife again, I will have his favourite body part and feed it to my dragon.”

* * *

It was nearly dusk but you were still in the gardens of the Red Keep. A cold breeze came from the sea that made you shiver. Although your lord father asked you to return home in his letter, you would not truly be going home but to yet another prison. Even as but a handmaiden, you liked it in King’s Landing. The children have grown on you and so did their mother, Princess Helaena. But most of all, your heart belonged to Prince Aemond. It made your insides twist into a hundred knots at the thought of having to leave his side. Just being in his service, stealing small moments from his life made your own a thousand times better.

It was time for the children to have their dinner and get ready for bed although you were already late. You were about to go inside but as you turned around to leave, you came face to face with Prince Aemond and froze. He must have been there for a while now but he did not say a word. You supressed a gasp when you saw him, your heart jumping to your throat.

You bowed gracefully. “Forgive me I’m late,” you spoke quietly, “I was distracted by my thoughts. Princess Helaena must need me.” You bowed once again and made your way towards the gate but as you passed by Prince Aemond, he caught your elbow gently. You stopped and looked up. His face was so close to yours that you could smell the fragrance of his skin. Amber and sandalwood teased your nostrils as your lips parted. His eye glistened as he stared at you.

“You’re no longer my sister’s handmaiden, Lady Y/N,” said Prince Aemond quietly. “You are to be wed.”

“I know,” you nodded to yourself, pushing back the tears that threatened into your eyes as you looked away.

“I’ve spoken to my lady mother,” continued Prince Aemond. “I am to be wed as well.” Your gaze snapped to Prince Aemond as your heart broke in two. It was one thing to get married yourself but having to see him with another woman, made you feel light-headed.

“Congratulations,” you managed but your voice cracked and tears filled your eyes. You pulled away from Prince Aemond but he caught your hand once more.

“Don’t you want to know to whom?” he asked softly, his thumb caressing over your knuckles. For a moment, you thought Prince Aemond was torturing you on purpose asking these questions.

“To whom, my prince?” you asked with no choice. You avoided his gaze for dear life as the sky over King's Landing darkened and the Red Keep shone bright with candles in every room.

“To you, my lady,” said Prince Aemond. You looked up into his eye, your chest knocked out of air as your lips parted. “I’ve spoken to Queen Alicent. Wyr Frey will marry the Arryn girl and you will be wed to me, my lady.”

Prince Aemond awaited your reaction, a small part of him even afraid you might deem him a lesser match to Lord Frey. The ladies of the court would often gasp or turn away when they saw Prince Aemond and his scar.

“But… but h-how?” you stuttered and could not keep your tears back any longer. They slipped down your cheeks like silent waterfalls. “I’m… My family… I… I’m not good enough,” you whispered and shook your head.

“You’re the best there is, Lady Y/N,” said Prince Aemond and propped up your chin.

“Please do not jest with me,” you cried and stepped away, letting go of Aemond’s hand. His lips parted but he would not let you go this easily. He hurried after you and caught your arm, trapping you against the red stone of the castle.

Aemond was breathing heavily as he cupped your cheeks, his presence making your knees turn soft. “I would never jest like this with you, Y/N," said Prince Aemond, his sharp glare locking with your eyes.

“But why… Why would Queen Alicent agree to this?” you could not help but ask, your voice weak and pain-ridden as you shook your head.

“Because I asked her to,” said Prince Aemond darkly. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against your cheek. Goose bumps rose on your arms and legs as you felt his breath against your lips. You could not hold back any longer. You stepped on the tips of your toes and kissed him with every last being in you. Your arms wrapped around his neck and final tears slipped down your cheeks. Aemond deepened the kiss further and further, his arms around your waist, until you needed to reach for air. Then his forehead leaned against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“Do you accept?” spoke Prince Aemond, his voice hoarse but quiet, yet he needed to make sure. You opened your eyes and could only nod, too stunned for words.

“Say it, Y/N,” demanded Aemond and caressed your cheek. “Say it…”

“I accept,” you breathed. “I want to marry you, Aemond,” you said as your cheeks flushed bright red but it was too dark to see. The corner of his lips turned into a smile as he leaned back in.

“Good,” purred Aemond and found your lips once again, his hand beneath your cheek.

[chaed-ffnet]

Fanfiction writing asks: 2, 12, 25

Yay, thanks for asking!

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

The most random corners of the universe, honestly. Beyond The Walls Of Sleep came to me while playing Dead Space and theorizing the suit mechanics compared to Tony Stark's Iron Man. It ended up a three part AU starting during the Battle of Manhattan and stretching all the way up to CA:CW.

When I read Stephen King's Misery, it sparked the idea for 4 Strong, which eventually morphed into a post-apocalyptic road trip with a focus on found family dynamics.

A Walk Down Lafayette Street actually originated from Pinterest suggestions on how to conservatively stabilize a hip fracture. Sounds random, right? That's because it is. I have no idea how the algorithm decided that was relevant to my interests, but somehow it turned into a first-person time-travel romance with plenty of twists and turns along the way. In which nobody breaks their hip, in case you were wondering.

12. Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

For me, it all starts with a simple prompt that lingers in the back of my mind until it grows into a scene. I may jot it down or just keep it in my head. If it sparks more ideas or makes me curious about other aspects, I know it has potential to become a Big Project.

That's when I start outlining and coming up with a rough plot from beginning to end. I do tend to deviate from my original plan as I get caught up in rewrites and edits, though. In fact, my latest work has gone through five rewrites so far, and now I've discovered a sixth version that intrigues me even more.

That's why I like to include a "Behind The Scenes" and "Deleted Content" section at the end of my stories; it gives me a chance to share some of the ideas that didn't make it into the final draft.

25. What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

Hm, tough one.

I like outlining, but I only really enjoy it when I can brainstorm with another person; unfortunately, these days it's rare for me to find someone to bounce ideas off of.

Writing is a love-hate relationship for me. There are times when the story just leaks out of my brain like a burst dam, but there are also tortuously long dry spells where every word feels like it's being dragged out of me with a pair of rusty pliers.

Editing is where the magic really happens. I can sit and obsess for days about using one word over another, polishing up dialogue, and sometimes even rewriting entire scenes or overarching plot points. It's the crucial stage where I'm almost finished...or about to start from scratch again.

I have a really hard time saying ‘Okay, I am done, this is it’ and just publish my work. And of course, once it's out there, I almost always seem to notice typos, grammatical errors, and glaring mistakes that somehow slipped through my twenty-five prior rereads.

But what I do enjoy is going back and revisiting my works after some time has passed—enough that I can't remember everything I've written. I might read a passage or two and think… but what if?

And a new fic is born. :)

[centaurianthropology]

The Magnus Archives Season 3 Q&A – What We Learned!

So this isn’t my usual analysis, but I did decide to collate a little bullet-point list of all the things we’ve learned from the Season 3 Q&A for those of you who can’t/don’t want to listen for whatever reason, but still want the delicious information that we got.  I’ll also be including my own thoughts about some of the points, so there will be some tasty meta.  This will just be a bit more of an informational post than most are.

·         The metaplot is known through season 5 (which will be the final season), and is hashed out in more detail at the beginning of each season.  The individual spooky stories are not necessarily known prior to the week before writing.  There is usually a general idea, but no specific details until far closer to the deadline.

·         Martin’s crush on Jon was known from the beginning of the series.  No specifics were given about when and how it came about on Martin’s end.  I imagine we’ll probably get more into this as we go forward (I lean toward it developing while he was living in the Archives, as his attitude toward Jon definitely shifted from “I have to prove myself to my boss who doesn’t believe in me” to getting very emotional when he thought he left Jon and Tim to die in the tunnels). But it was known that the crush would or already had happened from the inception of Martin’s character.

·         Tim’s background was known 2 seasons prior to now (so end of season 1).  It only came about at that point because, prior to that, Tim was going to be the one to be replaced by the Not-Them at the end of season 1 rather than Sasha.  There had to be a last-minute change because Lottie (the woman who played Sasha) had a scheduling conflict that meant she couldn’t commit to the continued large-scale time commitment.  So Sasha got replaced, Tim got a backstory, and the rest is history.  Very interesting to think that the descent into bitterness and potentially even the ties to the circus were originally meant to be Sasha’s. Is that why she was so interested in the calliope in season 1 perhaps?  Having the only main female character also be the first to die was also one of the big reasons why they added a lot of major recurring female characters from then on.

·         Basira and Daisy becoming as significant as they were was a combination of the characters being interesting and the actors being fun to working with.  They also very much fulfilled certain necessary narrative roles.

·         They knew Melanie was going to become an assistant from shortly after Lydia’s recording of her initial episode.  I’m guessing this is partly to do with Lydia being already available, but I also have to imagine it was due to the instant, nasty rapport she had with Jon.  She was certainly the character from season 1 who I most wanted back when I initially heard her.

·         Jonny’s original pitch for the show was the 13 fears, though the Slaughter and the Hunt were initially the same, but as he worked through them he realized that the root fear was very different.  It became especially apparent due to the fact that extremely different (and likely very poorly cooperating) sorts of people were driven to each of those powers.  This is interesting, because it implies that Melanie and Daisy, though we have not seen them interact, would not get on at all. They’re driven by instincts that are too close but too different.  

·         Poor, poor Jonny is haunted by Elias’ surge in popularity during season 3, particularly the large contingent of fans who found him suddenly and definitely attractive.  He blames Ben Meredith for all his woes: “It was only after [episode] 92 when he started to be properly, overtly villainous, and everyone just decided how sexy he was!  When we were planning things out, there was no way for us to foresee how sexy Elias was going to be.  Something I blame entirely on Ben.”  And Alex cackled in the background.

·         Melanie’s clap-marker as her statement beginning was actually improvisation on Lydia’s part (and works wonderfully with her background in video production).  By and large, though, there was little improvisation from the actors. There was a lot of lean-in to certain qualities that actors brought out if they were particularly good at it.

·         Jonny’s favorite power to write is the Flesh because it’s super weird and lets him dig into really odd writing.  His least favorite is the Dark because it’s so easy to fall into tropes and clichés, and he doesn’t actually share that particular fear.  He also finds writing the Desolation particularly challenging, as it treads the closest to his biggest distaste in horror: linking spooky fictional stuff with real-life trauma.  The very nature of the Desolation lends itself to trauma-porn, so when writing it he has to be especially careful not to do that.  Alex’s least favorite from a production standpoint is the Spiral because it’s always a nightmare editing it, but the Vast is his favorite, because he adds high amplitude low frequency noise to induce an on-edge feeling in the listener.

·         Alex really enjoys killing all the characters you love.  Sasha’s replacement might have been his favorite moment in the show, because it was subtle enough a lot of people didn’t catch it.  He also seemed positively gleeful when joking about how very dead Tim is.  Of all the changes in personality from character to actor, Alex is always the one who gives me the most whiplash.  Which, I suppose, is a testament to his acting abilities.

·         Perhaps Jonny’s greatest regret is naming the main character after himself and not thinking that would become … complicated.  Apparently, in the earliest drafts he was just the host of the anthology series, and not a character in his own right, which is why he originally just went with his own name.  Then he didn’t think to change it as they made Jonanthan Sims his own character with only vague similarities to Jonny (he was basically all the bits of Jonny that would make a good horror protagonist, exaggerated for effect, right up until about episode 20, at which point the character began to develop along his own lines and moved farther and farther from Jonny), who would like to believe that his own personal decisions were less “overtly horrific” than his fictional counterpart.  Alex described Jonny vs Jon as “I’d like to think that you’re less of a hot garbage-fire of a person”.  They both agreed that Jon (the character) was the absolute king of terrible decisions, and that it was hysterical to listen to Jonny’s parents eviscerate Jon’s incredibly awful decisions.  I love Jonathan Sims, Head Asshole of the Magnus Institute, but I will agree with their assessment of his character.

·         A similar regret was naming the assistants after Jonny’s then-roommates.  Not only did it cause confusion (as all 3 have now also been in the show at some point), but he brutally killed off his fiancé’s namesake first.  Oops?

·         It sounds at least probable we’ll get the last bit of the Daedalus space station story in season 4.  On that note, I found it interesting that all recurring story themes, etc, are mentioned to recur in season 4.  There was absolutely no mention of season 5 at all.  Which makes me leery.

·         US distribution and ratings for podcasts are … interesting.  Jonny could add in all the violence, explicit gore, and even sex he wanted.  The only thing (literally the only thing) that gets a podcast marked *explicit* is swearing.  Which meant that the podcast, in order to not be marked as explicit, had to scale back the language and nothing else.  Every time a character swears, it has to be well-thought-out, and Jonny has to sell Alex on why it’s important.  On the up-side, the lack of swearing was apparently what convinced Sue Sims to be a part of the cast, so I think getting Gertrude is well worth adherence to a laughably odd rule for US ratings.  Also, on that same note, Alex’s imitation of Jonny’s mother nearly made me snort tea up my nose.  So thanks for that, Alex.

·         Jonny believes that what he writes is ‘escapist horror’.  It’s a way of indulging in fear and spookiness in a controlled, safe way, when it won’t suddenly turn deeply unpleasant and traumatic.  He believes that his audience needs to trust that they can enjoy the horror without worrying that it will unexpectedly cross lines. He separates that from literary horror, which often does dig into very traumatic issues through the mechanisms of horror in very thoughtful ways.  All horror, in his opinion, needs to be respectful when it tackles very traumatic subjects.  The reason that Jonny personally doesn’t write literary horror is that he has no personal experience with those sorts of traumas, and would not feel qualified to dig into them in a genuine and thoughtful way.  He therefore sticks to escapist horror that his audience knows they can enjoy without worrying about it suddenly veering from spooks to trauma.

·         The sound of the Anglerfish is a baby crying, slowed down 100x.  Nikola had record scratches layered under her voice very subtly.

·         Jonny’s favorite thing to record in season 3 was his [MUFFLED FEELINGS], and he revealed that he managed to sound like he had a gag in his mouth by trying to stuff as much of his fist into his mouth as possible before trying to deliver lines. Which produced a really amazing amount of saliva, apparently.  They also had a lot of fun trying to record one of the larger group scenes in which most of the participants shouted at one another, because they used up most of the oxygen in the studio and all got very dizzy.  Alex really enjoyed recording his scenes in episode 100, because it was one of the few times he got to improvise, and he and the actress spent the entire episode trying to make one another laugh.  

·         Also, all statements in episode 100 are confirmed to have been supernatural events, simply told badly.  The actors got a paragraph telling them what really happened, as well as some bullet points detailing how they might get side-tracked or otherwise be terrible statement givers.  The rest was slowly improvised, with frequent checks for canon-compliance.  And, yes, episode 100 was absolutely a funny way of answering the question: “Does the magic power also make them really eloquent storytellers?”  “YES. YES, IT DOES.”

·         Alex misses his old analogue mixer.  There was about 2 minutes of eulogizing.  

·         Tim is 100% dead.  They also specify that they will never resurrect characters or bring them back from the dead (which makes Jon’s current situation particularly worrisome, as he’s not quite dead, but he’s inches from it).  Dead characters may still make appearances via tape (Gertrude’s been dead the whole time, and it hasn’t stopped her from showing up plenty) or speak from beyond the grave (thanks Gerry), but if a character dies, they will not come back to life.  This also means that Michael will not be coming back as the Distortion.  The distortion is now Helen, and the story of the Distortion is about what and who she is.  Michael may return as audio, of course, but not in the form of the Distortion.  Likewise, Gertrude and Leitner in the season finale were not ghosts; they were mostly Nikola, with a little bit of Unknowing reality-bending-weird thrown in.

·         Georgie will be returning, but she will be an occasionally recurring character rather than a regular.  

·         The Usher Foundation is the American sister foundation to the Magnus Institute, which is similar to it but different.  It’s a way to broaden the world and give a nice hook for fanfiction/RPG settings/etc. The same can be said of the other institutions like the Chinese research institution.  It’s a way to expand the world and to give a sense of scope without a locked-down story.  There’s just too much story to fit into two more seasons as is.

·         There is a nexus of timeline discrepancies that is 100% part of the plot, but the rest of timeline issues are probably just mistakes.  Mary Kaey’s dates are almost definitely oversights in writing, but Jonny doesn’t discount that he might do something with the discrepancy to make it an interesting plot point in the future.

·         Gerry’s father is not confirmed to be Eric, the research assistant of Gertrude’s who took the statement in ‘Upon a Stair’, as Jonny refused to answer the question.  He did, however, state that whoever asked had been listening very closely.

·         Any character who believes they understand how the powers work is absolutely wrong. This does include Gerry’s interpretation of Robert Smirke’s cosmology, though Jonny did state that what Gerry said is about as close as we’re likely to get to the truth of the cosmology (no exposition dump is a lie, but it’s only a decent approximation).  However, the powers are going to defy any attempt to nail them down or perfectly sum them up.  Plenty of things will not line up with the way Gerry described them, because the powers work on nightmare logic, not normal logic.

·         The tapes are NOT neutral.  They are not simply objects to record.  There is more to them than that, but we don’t know what.

·         Jonny is a massive history nerd.  He got very into Wolfgang von Kempelin, and his imitation of von Kempelen’s speaking machine was hysterical.  His favorite episode to write was ‘Tale of a Field Hospital’ for similar history nerd reasons.

·         The first trailer for the series (with the chanting) was meant as a mood piece, but has absolutely nothing to do with the meta plot.  It was recorded before half of the meta plot was even established.

·         The Magnus Institute, beyond the Archival staff and Elias, is just a legitimate supernatural academic research institution.  The library does exactly what it says it does (house and catalogue valuable texts on the supernatural).  Artifact Storage really does just store and experiment on supernatural artifacts.  Research is mostly students working on dissertations and theses.  They are even confirmed to run on an academic fiscal year (thanks to whatever fiscal nerd asked that particular question!)

·         All the supernatural things encountered in the show are tied to the powers, but Jonny does not categorically deny that other supernatural stuff exists in the TMA universe. It very simply won’t be addressed in the show, as introducing other supernatural stuff beyond the powers wouldn’t work this late in the story.  The powers play with folklore, but they do not necessarily generate folklore themselves.

·         For purposes of the story, every power only has one ritual we need to be concerned about.

·         BIG ANSWER: no power has completed a ritual to date.  The rituals are now confirmed to so radically change the fabric of reality that there is no one on the planet who wouldn’t notice a successful ritual or be effected by it in a massive way.  We are not living in a world in which the Beholding has already succeeded, or any other power.  Jonny would not answer whether or not it was possible to reverse or somehow mitigate a successful ritual.  And that makes me very suspicious that the season finale of season 4 will be the successful completion of the Watcher’s Crown, and season 5 may be trying to reverse or mitigate it in some way.

·         Leitner is likely to return (one would imagine in one of Gertrude’s tapes).

·         Jonny and Alex have made the deliberate decision not to overly describe any of the major characters beyond their plot-relevant descriptors (Tim is described as attractive, but we will not get any details of that attractiveness).  Jonny doesn’t even have confirmed ages for most of the characters. He thinks Jon is his age (almost 30).  Martin is either a bit older or a bit younger than Jon.  Tim, Sasha, and Melanie are ‘young adults’, which Jonny defines as somewhere between 25 and early thirties.  Elias is middle-aged.  Gertrude and Leitner are old.  Trevor is “old as balls”.

·         Jon is 100% on the asexual spectrum, but may not use that term to describe himself.  He would instead avoid the question, and avoid thinking about it too deeply in general.  He would be very uncomfortable describing his own sexuality. Also, Jonny made it very clear that the way Jon grapples with his inhumanity is neither a parallel to nor a comment on his asexuality.  He approaches them very differently.  He didn’t specify this, but so far as I can tell, he avoids even thinking about his sexuality, but he actively agonizes over his increasing inhumanity.  I wonder if we might end up getting a bit more of how Jon thinks about his own asexuality if he and Martin ever get their shit together enough to discuss things.

·         The statements are 90% Intangible Horror colonizing Jon’s brain, and 10% Jon is a massive drama queen secretly.  They also agreed that, if he did amateur theatre as a younger man, he would have been insufferable.

·         Tim, prior to his revenge kick, was into lots of socialization, adventure vacations (rock climbing, kayaking, scuba, etc), and may have also been a bit of a console gamer.  “Lots of socializing; adventure holidays; dead.”

·         There are no specifics at this point on the characters’ families that haven’t been addressed that Jonny was comfortable discussing, as he wanted to hold those details in reserve for later relevance.  He doesn’t want to be beholden to random answers he might throw out right now.  He would say (potentially joking) that Martin has a spider (or a series of spiders) that live in his closet over the past year, and he calls it/them George.

·         The Admiral is a composite of all the cats in Jonny’s life, which all seem to have odd rank-names (Sir Pouncealot, Ambassador Cat, the Colonel).  The Admiral is a reflection of all Jonny’s favorite things about cats.

·         We are not going to be meeting any other plot-integral characters we haven’t already heard of.  There will be new voices, but they will be names we recognize.  There will be no new archival assistants.  They’ve played that card.

·         The characters with horror-writer last names (Martin, Tim, Sasha, Georgie, and Melanie) all have paranormal research backgrounds.  This is why that convention was used for them specifically.  Given that they were not certain of the direction they were going to take Basira and Daisy when they were first written, their last names did not follow this.

·         Jon cannot compel dogs.  Probably.

·         Why an owl is the crest of the Magnus Institute (officially): “Owls are weird.  They are considered very wise, but actually one of the stupidest animals in the world.  They have a very strong field of vision.  And, some species of owl, if you look in their ear you can see the side of their eyeball.”  

·         To serve ANY of the entity is to bring fear and suffering to others.  That is what your existence is twisted into.  

·         Alex is most frightened by the Vast.  Jonny is most frightened by the Corruption, but worries his lack of tidiness might tempt its attention.

·         My favorite question and answer: if they could fight any writer in hand-to-hand combat, who would it be?  They both agreed on HP Lovecraft, because “I could almost definitely take him, and it would be so satisfying.”  They both agreed that neither of them would feel bad for punching Lovecraft, which, even as someone who does a yearly reading of a lot of his works … yeah.  I’d agree.  He had amazing creativity and really laid out my favorite horror sub-genre (debatably Robert Chambers invented it, but Lovecraft properly expanded it into a genre), but there are few authors as in need of a proper walloping as HP Lovecraft. They agreed that others—for Jonny, DH Lawrence, for Alex, James Joyce—were also in need of some fighting, but had serious doubts whether or not they could beat them in hand-to-hand combat (“We’re not exactly prime physical specimens”).  Maybe just kicking them in the shins.  Jonny admitted to an embarrassing love of a lot of literary ‘classics’ people like to shit on, like “Ulysses” and “Moby Dick”.

And that was that!  This is the entirety of the MASSIVE Patreon Q&A.  Apparently the one that went up tonight on the website is a very pared-down version of this Q&A (website version is 43 minutes; Patreon version is 1 hour 48 minutes). Not sure which of these answers didn’t make the cut, but here you go!  All the delicious meta and answers you could want, fresh from the Patreon!

[aira-writes]

Cold, early mornings and Ice creams

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, one-shot, imagines,

Warnings: language

A/n: Might have grammatical errors because I made this at 12 am so read at your own risk! Will edit this in the morning :>

The moment Katsuki opened his room door and found you in your gym clothes really early in the morning, he thought you were sick or smthn. You weren't opposed to the idea of working out. What you hated was early mornings. So that's why he was confused why you were the one who woke up extremely early just to come with him to the gym today.

Now you and your boyfriend are on your way to the gym which is just a 5-minute walk from your apartment. It was 6 in the morning so the weather was a bit cold. You planned to wake up extremely early because you knew this month that early mornings are usually cold.

You decided it's time to go back to working out after stopping for weeks. You miss feeling DOMS after working out. Plus you'd also get a chance to watch Katsuki workout so it's a win-win.

You and Katsuki are walking side by side as you made your way to the gym. It's his usual routine to go to the gym every day from Mondays to Saturdays, excluding Sundays cause it's his rest days.

He was wearing his usual gym clothes—sexy black sleeveless top, gym shorts, and his running shoes— underneath those black sweater of his. You were wearing your own gym clothes underneath Katsuki’s favorite sweatshirt that you stole borrowed.

As you guys walked, you turned to the blonde.

It's funny because no matter how many times you've seen Katsuki already, you still can't help but be mesmerized by his good looks.

He gaze was entirely focused on the road in front of you that he didn't notice you were staring. He still had his messy bed hair on. He didn't bother putting on gel to make his hair look spiky because he's going to workout today and it'll still get sweaty. His spiky and thick eyebrows are curved perfectly. Those same eyebrows would always furrow when he's serious, mad, confused or deep in thought so it's cute to see them not furrowed because he has a neutral expression on his face. His lashes were long and thick to the point that you always got jealous of it. His perfectly sculpted nose and plump lips. Don't even get me started with those jawline and—

“Take a picture, would ya?”

You were snapped out from your reverie. Blush rising up to your cheeks from having your boyfriend catch you gawking at him.

Katsuki turned to you with that signature smirk of his. “It'll last longer, princess.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes to hide your embarrassment. “I already have a couple pictures of you, babe.” you snatched your phone from your pocket and wiggled it near his face.

“Yeah, ‘cause we took them togeth—damnit, hey! Watch where you're going dumbass!” he grumbled as he softly tugged the back of your his sweater backwards in one swift motion, the action pulling you back enough to stop you from crossing the road right before you'd get hit by a speeding bike.

“Oops, sorry.” you giggled sheepishly.

“Don't apologize, baby.” his eyes softened momentarily as he looked at you. “I was cursing that damn guy for speeding up when the light’s fucking red.” he grumbled, glaring at the now-far away biking guy. “the damn extra almost ran you over. Tch.”

You both crossed the road using the pedestrian lane, now Katsuki an inch closer to you than before. You also noticed his protective stance with the way he's subtly covering your body.

“nah ah. I meant the ones which I took when you were sleeping peacefully, babe.” you giggled, continuing the conversation you had with him before the biking guy incident happened.

“tch. just don't dare post them online, woman.” he inserted his hands inside his pants pocket, slightly looking away from you. But he was unsuccessful in trying to hide the cute blush that was already spreading onto his cheeks and ear.

“don’t worry, I didn't Katsu.”

“good.”

“but I may or may not have, sent some of your cute sleeping pictures in the Bakusquad's groupchat.” you grinned.

the way his neck immediately snapped to turn at you, shocked and eyebrows furrowed, made you question if your boyfriend's neck is okay or not.

“YOU W-WHAT?”

“Ooo! Ice cream! Yay!” you ran to where the ice cream was, avoiding your boyfriend's question. You were literally saved by the bell—the ice cream vendor's bell in this situation—from your boyfriend's wrath.

“come back here, woman!”

You arrived at the ice cream stall, panting. I really need a workout, you thought. A minute later your boyfriend already caught up, and he didn't even look out of breath.

“let's buy some ice cream, Katsu, pleaseeee.” you pouted.

He raised his eyebrow. “We're going to the gym and you're craving ice cream?” the idea of you sending his cute sleeping pictures to the GC, thrown out the window.

“PLEASE, KATSUKI. I WANT SOME FUCKING ICE CREAM OR I'LL SCREAM.” he shook his head at your childishness, trying to hide the smile on his face at how cute you're acting rn.

“fine, fine. Let's give the girl her ice cream before she screams.” Katsuki orders two ice cream cones, with 3 different flavors each, then takes out a bill from his pocket and pays the vendor.

“Here you go.” the vendor smiles at you both, handing you your ice cream.

“Hey! These two cones are mine. Go buy your own.” you pouted as you immediately took the other cone when the vendor was about to hand it to your boyfriend.

You immediately started eating as Katsuki chuckled, buying another one for himself. You guys continued on your way to the gym and you still occupied in finishing the two cones.

“Slow down. It's already freezing in the morning, dumbass. You'd get sick at this rate.” he grumbled, as he finished hils own cone.

You finally finished your ice cream and so were your boyfriend and both of you finally arrived right across the gym.

To make sure no speeding bike incident would occur, Katsuki grabbed your hand, and held it as you both crossed the road. You weren't gonna lie that you didn't feel extremely giddy when Bakugou Katsuki—your boyfriend who isn't into PDAs—held your hand all of a sudden.

His hands were surprisingly warm even when he's out here in the cold, and even after eating ice cream. Damnit, the way his big warm calloused hands fit into your small ones were enough to break a smile into your face. Plus the fact that he was gently holding your hand, afraid he might break you. His hold is also tight and secure enough to make sure he won't accidentally loosen his grip on you.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MA HEART BAKUGOU.

“damn, your hand's cold as ice.” he finally let go of your hand when you both arrived on the other side of the road. Your hands felt cold with the absence of his. And you resisted the urge to try to grab his hand again so you could intertwine it with his a bit longer.

“put your hand in ya pocket.” he said as he walked his way to the front of the gym.

You pouted. You assumed that he'd let you put your cold hand in his pocket just like the scene that you saw in that kdrama movie last night. :(

You placed your cold hand into your pocket to warm it up and followed right after your boyfriend. When you arrived beside him because he knew you were a few steps behind, he turned to you and then looked down at your hand that was now inside your pocket.

Katsuki's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Didn't you hear me? I said put ya hand inside my pocket, dumbass.” then he grabbed your hand that was inside your pocket, intertwined it with his, and gently shoved it in his pocket.

“that warm enough for ya?” he smirked, as he pulled you with him into the entrance of the gym.

You looked down at the intertwined hands of yours and Katsuki’s. The temperature's just right, Katsu. You thought, grinning.

Looks like someone's gotta renew their gym membership :>

[obeiii-mee]

Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.

I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed

Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary

People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬

Brothers+ undateables reaction

Mammon snaps:

___________________

This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.

Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!

•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.

⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.

___________________

For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.

“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”

“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.

“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”

Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.

“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.

“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”

“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“

“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“

“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“

The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.

“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”

“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”

You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“

“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“

“I’m hungry-“

“Not now, Beel!”

“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.

Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.

He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.

“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”

It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.

“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.

“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”

He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.

......

Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this

You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.

Lucifer:

-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them

-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were

-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults

-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions

-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem

-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected

-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all

-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature

-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this

-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked

-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly

-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally

-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time

-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night

-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)

-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room

-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet

-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.

Levi:

-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth

-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out

-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there

-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much

-They usually don’t

-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now

-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night

-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it

-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home

-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame

-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’

-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon

-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding

-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable

-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)

-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him

-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real

-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling

-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers

-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice

Satan:

-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away

-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping

-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did

-But alas, he realised it too late

-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not

-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-

-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room

-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face

-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something

-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling

-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily

-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home

-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers

-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first

-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again

-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts

-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????

-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on

-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!

Asmo:

-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing

-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him

-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all

-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second

-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else

-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored

-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself

-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy

-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so

-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck

-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner

-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)

-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise

-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy

-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them

-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point

-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting

-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo

Beel:

-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day

-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice

-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case

-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about

-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary

-That’s the first thing that put him on alert

-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting

-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got

-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out

-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him

-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times

-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad

-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?

-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer

-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony

-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them

-Or he relies on you to give it to him

-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable

-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies

-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)

-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it

-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in

Belphie:

-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about

-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by

-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table

-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“

-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside

-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive

-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl

-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up

-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”

-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)

-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home

-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night

-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown

-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation

- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour

-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it

-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up

-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so

-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)

-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie

-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either

-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly

Diavolo:

-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason

-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night

-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in

-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday

-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned

-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings

-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves

-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most

-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)

-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space

-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it

-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty

-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down

Barbatos:

-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually

-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway

-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence

-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown

-Again, he has no right to intervene

-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons

-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily

-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)

-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)

-Basically, in the same position as the Prince

-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon

-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all

—————————————————————-

Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(

[wood-white-writer]

“In the Land of the Blind” [Chapter III]

“In the Land of the Blind, the One-Eyed Man is King”

Pairing: Silco x Doctor Toxicologist!Reader

Summary: Silco's POV & Reader's POV TW: Underage usage of medicine (nothing forced) A/N: Sorry if there are any grammatical errors of any kind. I've been hella sick these last few days so my brain is a little stuck in the clouds. I'll edit later. For now, I hope you enjoy <3

Read the AO3 version here | > Chapter IV

“I already know what those are, Silco,” Jinx gripes exasperatedly as Silco hands her one of the pills from the jar, looking every bit as suspicious as he usually does, if not a tad more. “They’re not that bad,”

“Forgive me if I like to be a little cautious about giving pills to a young child,” he adds with a twinge of sarcasm.

“I’m not that young. I’m almost ten!” She huffs and puffs out her chest a bit to appear bigger, although she still stands inconsequentially small in comparison to him. An endearing feat, but ultimately meaningless. “Besides, if you were that worried, we wouldn’t have gone to her in the first place,” she points out. “I know all about those things. What they’re doing and how I’m going to feel. They taste like shit, though,”

“Language,” he chides. “I’m starting to think you’re spending too much time around Sevika,”

The dark look in her eyes simmers hotter and hotter by the second. Jinx has never made her distaste for Sevika subtle, and though he isn’t necessarily thrilled about it, he would rather know of it than be ignorant and suffer the consequences of it if she chooses to go about her own way of dealing with his right-hand woman.

Silco considers the green and white with a sharp glare before begrudgingly handing it to the girl, followed by a glass of water. “And you’re certain it’s the same kind as you’ve used before?”

“Yep!” She replies with a prominent ‘pop’ at the end to accentuate the word. “It really helps whenever I’m feeling … You know, weird.”

The way her face morphs into a disheartened countenance does not evade his notice, and he places a hand on top of her head that vaguely resembles something he’s experienced in the past, though he can’t be certain. It’s a gesture of warmth and comfort, the kind only a parental figure can provide. He’s never given his own parents – whoever they were – much thought, since they didn’t live long enough for him to establish consisted memories of them, but he likes to believe that this is something a passable guardian would do.

She doesn’t seem to mind, anyhow, and leans into his touch like it’s an oasis in a desert. She truly is the embodiment of why he’ll keep fighting for the cause of Zaun. He’s witnessed her episodes at alarming frequency nowadays, and although he’s tried his best to remedy them, his efforts have ultimately been in vain. It’s begun to affect her both physically and mentally, with a lack of sleep and a loss in appetite to accompany. 

That’s when he grudgingly decided that he needed someone else’s help for this, if not Singed, then someone else.

“There’s nothing remotely weird about having emotions, child,” he says in a way that he hopes can convey some level of comfort. “We all struggle to keep them in check at times,”

She shoves herself slightly out of his hold. “Not you, though. You’re always calm!”

He chuckles velvety at her allegation. “I have to act the part, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have my weird moments as well on occasion,”

He revels in the fact that he manages to make her smile, if only a little. Jinx then gives the pill a quick look before popping it into her mouth. She grimaces for a few seconds, looking every bit as appalled as he imagined she would be before chucking back a good portion of water to ease the process. Once she’s finished, Silco gives her an expectant look.

“Well?” he asks.

“Well, what?”

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s only been a couple of seconds.” She points a finger at him. “It usually takes a short while before I feel anything,”

“The doctor claimed it’s supposed to have a quick effect on children,”

She scowls, but her left eyelid drops slightly. “I already told you, I’m almost ten,”

His lips quirk slightly upwards in amusement, but he can already tell that she’s becoming tired. Quick effect, indeed. “We won’t ever use this medicine unless you want to. They’re only in case you feel …” he tries to find a substitute for the W-word.

Jinx comes to his rescue with a yawn. “Weird?”

“Your word, not mine,”

She laughs briefly, but drops back against the couch, already looking prepared to sleep. “I know, but they’ll help me until I get better,”

He reaches for his overcoat by the edge of the couch and drapes it over her. “You don’t have to get better from anything. This is just temporary, and I’ll discuss more with the doctor on a later note if you’re feeling better,”

She suddenly perks up, if only a little. “You know, she doesn’t like to be called that,”

Silco tilts his head the fraction of an inch. “Doesn’t like to be called what?”

“Doctor.” She stifles another yawn as she rolls down to the side, nestled comfortably with the coat over her. “She’s always preferred being called that Toxi-thing instead,”

“Toxicologist, you mean?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Odd name,”

“I see, she mentioned that.” He gets up to his feet and makes his way over to his desk. “Then, I’ll be sure not to repeat that mistake,”

“Good, or she’ll threaten to poison you,” Jinx murmurs before succumbing to sleep. 

---

“Holy shit, you’re kiddin’!”

“I’m not,”

“Yer’ seriously telling me that yer’ workin’ for Silco now? As in, the Eye of Zaun ‘imself, the Kingpin of the Lanes, Silco Silco?!”

“Do I need to get you a hearing aid or are you naturally just that slow?”

“Hey, don’ give me that attitude! Just lookin’ out for you, tha’s all,”

“I’d rather you didn’t,”

You take a deep drag from the cigarette before handing it over to Jarenth, who’s inhale almost threatens to finish the whole thing in one go. The two of you are seated in the back alleyway behind your shop, hidden from public view in the way that only the alleyways can provide. Jarenth is a pain in the ass, but he’s about one of the few people in your life who comes close to being a friend. His father used to handle the shipments when your old man was still around and occasionally brought his son along to teach him the reins. He was a slow learner, but he learnt. 

Time went on, and eventually Jarenth took up the mantle and has served like a thorn in your side ever since. He handles your shipments, offers some half-assed advice whenever the opportunity shows itself, and every in-between, you share a drink or a smoke together to get a break from the ruckus that otherwise plague your everyday lives. It’s a quiet – pleasant – tradition you established after the incident with the bridge all those years ago, and it’s still going on.

Jarenth flicks the burnt edges of the cigarette to the ground, but doesn’t hand it back. “So, what’s a guy like him need help with anyway? Isn’t he the most powerful man in the Undercity and all that?”

“You would think so,” you shrug noncommittal with one shoulder. “But I can’t risk enclosing that with you,”

The faux look of disappointment in his eyes is almost laughable. “C’mon, doll! We’ve been friends since we we’re kids! Surely you can make an exception for ‘yer trusted, ‘ol shipmenter,”

“That’s not even a real word,”

“Sure it is! I invented it!”

“All the more reason to take everything you say with a grain of salt,”

He blows you a raspberry, to which you roll your eyes. Then he finishes what little remains of the cigarette and stumps it under his boot before getting up from his crouching position to dust off his clothes. “In all seriousness, though, I’m surprised he’d come to you and not that other scientist-y guy he already has workin’ for him,”

You quirk an eyebrow. “He did mention he already had someone on the sides for that, but apparently, he didn’t want to go to him.” You deliberately leave out the fact that it’s not, in fact, Silco himself who doesn’t want to go to him. 

Jarenth scoffs and drags a hand through his chipped, red hair. “Yeah, not even I can blame the guy for that. The doctor’s a real piece of work, I’ll tell you that,”

“I take it you know who it is, then?” 

He grins. “’Ye hear a lot of things passin’ ‘round with the way I do,”

“Mind indulging me then about the identity of this enigmatic scientist, then?”

He taps his chin with deliberate thoughtfulness, adding a contemplative hmmm to match. He then proceeds to grin rather devilishly as to indicate that he got something sinister in mind. “Guess I can loosen my tongue for a little quid pro quo, if you get what I’m sayin’?”

You sigh. “What the fuck do you want, Jarenth?”

“Tell me a little more about your … Excursions with the big Eye, and I’ll give you the name,”

Your answer is quick and firm. 

“No.”

He pouts. “C’mon, just a little crumb?”

“Telling you that I’m working for Silco alone is enough to get you killed, you know that, right?” You point out. “Surely you value your life a little bit – however miniscule it is sometimes?”

He crosses his arms and turns his head the opposite way of the alley, much like a child would after having been chastised by their parent for doing something wrong. “Fine, be like that,”

“I’ll give you a cigarette?”

And like that, he promptly snaps his head back at you with a look of utter adoration. “Deal!”

You barely have time to pull the thing out of its container before it’s snatched out of your hold and firmly tucked between Jarenth’s lips. You pretend not to be irked by the rude gesture and speak nothing of it. Fortunately, he has a lighter of his own, and once he lights it, he takes a deep breath and looks the most content you’ve ever seen him since the last cigarette he snatched from you. God, the lungs of that man are probably so ashen that not even a Piltie X-ray machine would be able to look at them. 

Not that you’re in any position to talk.

“So, what’s the guy’s name?” you finally decide to ask as a comfortable silence settles between you.

“Oh, right.” He briefly pulls the cigarette out. “I think his name was … Syric? No, give me a second,”

The glare you aim at him could probably melt steele. “I gave you one of my priced smokes, and you’re just telling me now that you can’t even remember the damn guy’s name?”

“Hold on, I have it somewhere back here.” He points to his head where that small, nut-sized organ called a brain probably resides. “Silver? No … That’s no–” Suddenly, like a light, his expression morphs into pure euphoria. “Singed! That’s the fucker! I remember now!”

You like to believe that there are few things in life that have the uncanny ability to unnerve you, after everything you’ve witnessed and experienced. However, upon hearing that name, it echoes back and forth between the walls of your skull and leaves a metallic aftertaste on the tip of your tongue that almost makes the hairs across the nape of your neck stand up. “Singed?” The lack of change in your tone successfully conceals just how ill you’re starting to feel. “You’re sure?”

Jarenth nods a little to quickly for you to register. “Yeah. Creepy guy, no one around here really likes ‘im.” He glances curiously over at you. “Why? Know him?”

Now, you wouldn’t particularly say that you knew him, as in you shared a history with him. When you were younger, however, the man himself – thin, gaunt and disheveled as he was – made an appearance at your shop while your father was still around to do the heavy lifting. The scientist was apparently looking for an apprentice of sorts, and when he discovered your penchant for the occupation and general chemistry, he suggested that you become it.

It was something you, at the time, could’ve gladly accepted. In response to that, your father, on the other hand, ushed you away and all but threatened to throw the scientist out with all of his bones misplaced at the wrong angles. As it turned out, the scientist didn’t have a good reputation to precede him, and with time, it only went downhill from there. His name became hushed and taboo like whispers on the street, and some even used him as a Boogeyman figure to keep their children from misbehaving. 

“Don’t do anything bad or the Singed Man will come for your eyes,” or something like that.

You never saw him after that, but you can’t imagine that time’s been generous towards him. It usually never is.

“We’ve met, once,” is all you supply with before turning to head back into the shop. “See you later, Jarenth. Keep me posted on anything new,”

“Will do,” he replies with a short-lived wave of his free hand. “Try not to get killed, and give Silco a kiss on that shiny eye of his from me, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, Jarenth,”

[lovethisletters]

Belly boops for the Demon brothers!

I felt like writing something chill and wholesome and this came up. Personally I'm a belly boop person, I've always enjoyed watching people's confused faces when I poke their stomach, but sometimes I'll do it out of habit (when I'm leaving a room or saying goodbye to a friend I belly boop them insted of a normal goodbye and won't realize that I did it until someone would point it out or just in very random moments like in the middle of a conversation I'll do it as well) so I decided to hc how the demon brothers react to an mc who does this.

Keys: MC = your main character's name.

Summary: The demon brothers discover a peculiar trait of MC: belly boops.

Additional notes: MC is gender neutral!

Here is part 2 with the side characters!

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️

Lucifer

The first time it happened was one morning when everyone was getting ready to go to RAD.

Lucifer always opens the door for everyone, and leaves last, so when you past by him you unconsciously decided to thank him for holding the door open in a very...unusual manner.

You booped his belly.

It was so random, that it was one of the very few moments in his life that the avatar of pride didn't know how to react.

—MC, What do you think you're doing?—his voice stopping you on your tracks.

You where confused at first on what he was referring to, but when you realized a wave of embarrassent hit you.

—Sorry! It came out of habit! I used to do that with my friends back in the human world!—you apologized quickly.

—refrain from doing that again, I'll only let it slide this time, understood?

—Yes! It won't happen again!

It did...

The second time it happened you immediately apologized only catching for a split second the death glare he gave you before running away.

Ultimately no matter how much he scolded you, you didn't stop.

I think he kinda...just accepted it once he realized you did that only with the people you're comfortable with. So he took it as a weird compliment.

So now he just stares blankly at you every time you do so, no longer even trying to correct your weird habit.

And to be honest...he secretly thinks is adorable, but he'll never tell.

Mammon

—Whadda ya' think you doin' ya' dumb human!?!?— the avatar of greed asked completely caught off guard.

He was telling you about one of his newest schemes to get some easy money; when all of a sudden, he felt a light and quick pressure on his belly.

It was your finger, but the weird thing was that you still looked like you where listening and waiting for him to continue the conversation like nothing had happened.

He's so confused.

When you realized what you had done, you explained to him it was something you did with your friends in the human world; is your weird unconscious way of showing a person you feel comfortable in their presence.

Blushy boi

—W-well...I guess that's ok, but don't ya' dare doin' this to anyone else, got it?

Your belly boops are reserved for the great Mammon!

Leviathan

Leviathan.exe has stopped working.

You where about to leave his room with a new game (he insisted you should try) on your hands.

—Thanks Levi! I'll let you know my thoughts once I finish it!—you said as he holds the door open for you.

Boop!

You went back to your room not being aware of the blushing mess of a demon you left behind.

"Why MC poked his belly?!?!" "It was probably a mistake, right?!" "No one would like to touch a yucky Otaku like him anyways!"

He won't confront you about it, thinking it was a mistake.

But then one time when you two were playing video games together and you just defeated the other team, he extended his hand in order to give you a celebration high-five.

But then you just...boop!

He blushes even more than the last time, and finally asks you why you did it.

When you explain to him is your own way to express endearment for the people close to you...oh boi.

He blushes so bad and his eyes get all glossy like he's about to cry, for a moment you might even think he's in pain or something.

He never thought of himself as someone you value or hold in such a dear place in your life, so he's just so happy to hear that!

Forget the high-fives! Belly boops are now a must every time you two are together!

Satan

The first time it happened was when you two where studying for a test in the library.

Satan is not a big fan of touch or touchy people; I feel like it makes him a bit anxious.

So when you first booped his belly...he felt kind of uncomfortable, but didn't say anything, thinking it was a mistake or a lame attempt on your part to provoke him.

He won't confront you the second, third or even fourth time it happens, only limiting himself to lightly scolding you with a quick glance.

But if you still don't get the hint, he would finally talk to you (not in an aggressive manner btw he's chill with you about it)

—MC, I don't know if you're doing this as a way to provoke me or make fun of me, but you should know how uncomfortable it makes me—He spoke holding you by your shoulders softly.

You explained to him it was something you did unconsciously, but that you weren't mocking him, Belly booping was something you only did with people you felt comfortable and trust enough to do so.

He gives you a kind smile after hearing you say that; He's truly happy to be someone you can rely on.

He might try to put up with it, belive me, he really does. But he just can't.

You let him know that it's ok for him to not like it, and that you're not mad or dissatisfied in any way, and that you'll be working on controlling this peculiar habit of yours.

He appreciates your words, and now every time that your habit slips, and you try to belly boop him; he'll catch your hand before you can do so and gently lower it, offering you a kind smile instead or...if he's feeling soft he'll hold your hand for a bit.

Asmodeus

He was finishing giving you a make-over when it happened.

—All done, hun! You look so beautiful!! Not as much as me tho...—he said handing you a mirror

—Thank you, Asmo!!! you're so talented!!

And out of nowhere...boop!

Silence.

Asmo, being the avatar of lust, has experienced all kind of touches.

But he has never (or at least not that he remembers) been booped in the belly.

He looks at you with curiosity, even tilting his head slightly, looking like a confused cat before his eyes spark with joy and he suddenly envelops you in a tight hug.

—Awww MC! You're just too cute! You make me want to gobble you up!—

Out of everyone, he's the one who loves belly boops the most, even more knowing the meaning behind them.

He just founds them so endearing, it melts his heart.

Whenever you boop him he'll pinch your cheeks and start baby-ing you.

Beelzebub

You first booped his belly at dinner, big mistake.

He was enjoying his meal when all of a sudden he feels your finger on his stomach.

And we all know Beel is a calm demon but when it's about food...you better don't try anything funny.

He hates being disturbed when he's eating.

He huffed in annoyance, directing you an angry glance you'd only had seen when the whole custard incident happened.

Tho he saw your apologetic expression and decided it wasn't something worth making a fuss about and continued eating.

He'll later feel bad about it tho, so when he came to apologize you decided to let him know it wasn't something you did on purpose and what it meant to you.

Beel was really happy, he even blushed a little and hugged you enthusiastically.

He enjoys belly boops...as long as you don't do it when he's eating.

Belphegor

It happened for the first time when he was falling asleep in class.

When you booped him he just thought it was your way of keeping him awake, so he didn't say anything at first.

That until he started to notice you would also do it in very random moments: You two would be out shopping or something and then...boop!

He's a bit startled at first, but much like Satan, he'll just look at you weirdly and then move on.

Or at least until curiosity gets the better of him and finally asks you about it.

When you finish telling him, a small smirk appeared on his lips.

He's the only one who kinda makes you regret you told him about the personal meaning belly boops hold to you because of how much he would tease you.

But he really likes them, because from now on. Every time the two of you take naps together; Belphie would belly boop you back before dozing off.

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov  where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[reidgraygubler]

out of the ordinary (chip taylor/reader)

Title: Out Of The Ordinary

Request: no

Couple: Chip Taylor/Fem!Reader

Category: smut/angst

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrative sex, fingering, oral (fem), sex while someone is injured, breeding kink, groping, praise kink, multiple orgasms, hair pulling), swearing, blood and other bodily fluids, graphic descriptions of violence(!!!!), mentions of sexual acts, 68 Kill Spoilers, mentions of a dead partner, mentions of drugs (unknown), guns and gun violence, talks about kids (in the very far future),

Word Count: 9,562

Summary: Reader works at a hotel where she sees a lot of things out of the ordinary… Including a man running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist. If only she knew her day was about to get weirder

A/N: day three of what might have been the biggest mistake of my life. But i had fun! Idk how april does it bc i was struggling. Anyways, here is some chip smut. I didn’t edit this too super well, so please pardon any of the editing errors/grammatical issues. The next ones will/are beta’d and edited… thank you so much for sticking with me on this! Tomorrow is something i had a lot of fun writing!  Here is the masterlist for 7days 7fics! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support! 

{***}{***}{***}

I wish that even though I lived in a small town, in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere, I would see normal things. You know? Things that happen in small towns in the middle fucking nowhere. But, because it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the highway goes right through the middle of our town, we get a lot of… interesting guests. Which makes my job a little entertaining, sometimes. 

Sitting behind a window at a tiny, run-down hotel early morning to mid-afternoon was what I did for a living. 90% of the time I spent my time just sitting there, reading a book/magazine, messing around on my phone, or working on an assignment for my class. That other 10% is checking people in or out of their rooms. 

My day was so close to coming to an end. 11:30… I just needed to be here for one more hour, and then I can go home and go to bed. And, surprisingly, nothing weird had happened. It was a successful day, praise the fucking Lord or whoever is watching down. 

Until, I jinxed myself…I thought I had hit the one allotted out of the ordinary thing for the day. That was until, as I was finishing up this essay, and I heard something from out in the parking lot. When I looked away from my laptop to investigate. And what I saw was not what I was expecting, at all.

A tall man was running across the parking lot, coming right towards the check-in/out window. Now, you might be wondering why this was out of the ordinary. Well, you see, he was running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a face washcloth around his waist. Let’s just say it left little to nothing to the imagination. 

“H-hey! Hi,” he spoke, coming right up to the counter. I was more than happy that there was a counter and window between the two of us. I’m happy he was attractive, in all sense of the words. He was very attractive.  “Do… Do you have a phone… That I could borrow?” he asked, looking at me with actual worry and terror in his eyes and face. I stared at him with a raised brow.

“What happened to the one in your room?” I moved away from my laptop and leaned on the counter beside it. He looked over his shoulder at the room he stayed in. I cocked my head to my shoulder and stared at him. “What room number are you?”

“Uh, that… That doesn’t really matter? Um, I’m running late,” he cringed as he looked back at me. I blinked slowly before looking down at the clipboard with the most recent check-ins. 

“Sure,” I looked right at the last name and noted the time he checked in, “Mister Delacroix?” I slowly looked back at him.

“Chip,”

“Well, listen, Chop,” I paused my words as I walked over to the door to let him in. I was just happy he didn’t correct me when I called him the wrong name. I could have corrected myself, but I was just annoyed that I’d probably have to take care of the mess in his room.

“The owner’s son texted me, telling me that the people in your room had a rager last night… So, if I have to go clean that room and see cum and piss all over the room, and a coke tray on the counters, I’m charging you double,” I looked up at him as he entered the office. He was a lot taller standing in front of me. I don’t know why I thought he was shorter. Maybe its because he was standing on lower ground and I was inside.

  “I… Rager?” He stared at me with a confused crease in his brow. I stared at him before slowly nodding. “Do… Do you know who came over? Do you know who it was?”

“I… Uh, I’ll have to ask the owner’s son. But, by the sounds of it, it was a little rough. I’m surprised you’re still up and walking without a limp,” I chuckled. I slowly looked up and down his body, taking in how he looked. He was slightly muscular, and though he had abs, his tummy was slightly pudgy. Which I could get with. I could appreciate a bit of a tummy on a guy like him. 

“Listen,” he started, his words showing more urgency than before. I looked up, away from his body and at his face. It was probably his urgency that got my attention because I definitely almost went a little lower than the towel. “I need to know-Do you have any clothes? This is slightly distracting,” he looked at me. I wasn’t too sure if he was talking distracting for me, or for him. But I do agree, it was very distracting.

“Uhm,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I pulled my stare off him and went to look for the lost and found box, “There’s not much in here, but I’m sure there’s something,” I glanced at him as I placed the box on the counter. 

“Right, thanks,” Chip looked at me before going to dig around in the box, “Do you know who came to my room last night?” 

“I think… Hold on,” I muttered before rushing to the counter, shuffling some papers to find a random sticky note with some sloppy hand writing, “Christ, I forget he doesn’t speak english,” I shook my head as I stared at the writing. “Some goth chick and her boyfriend, or whatever. Uh, yeah, he told me about it this morning before he left. Like, 6 other people I think,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head, “It sounds like they roughed the place up?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he looked away from the box for a brief moment. I watched as he pulled out a white and red t-shirt (that was left behind by a group of younger women) and a pair of sweat-shorts. “Great, now I gotta go back to that fucking gas station. Fucking fuck,” he muttered to himself as he dropped the towel to the ground. I widened my eyes and couldn’t help but stare at his ass.

“Gas station?” I asked, keeping my eyes on his body as he turned to face me. That was when I got a view of the full frontal package. I swallowed roughly.

“Are… Are you going to turn around?” he looked at me with nervousness in his eyes as he held the pants and shirt close to his body, lower towards his crotchal region. I smirked, raising an eyebrow and cocking my head to the side.

“Nope,” I looked up at him with a smile. When I noticed that he wasn’t going to move to get dressed, I dropped my shoulders before turning around.

“Which gas station are you talking about?” I asked, looking at the ground. I wasn’t entirely sure why I asked which gas station it was he was talking about. There was just one gas station in the whole town, and I knew he was in a bit of trouble.

  From behind me, I could hear Chip muttering strings of profanities to himself. Part of me wondered if he needed help with anything, or if I was just a disposable person in his day. Probably the latter. 

“The one down the street,” his voice was low. I wondered what he was thinking about and what his urgency was all about. “You can turn around. Can I use the phone,” he asked as I turned to face him. I looked at him and held back a laugh. Which, in turn, earned a glare from him. 

“Yeah, yeah, you have to dial 1 before the number you’re calling,” I went to move the phone closer to him, nearly pushing/pulling everything off the counter. 

“Thanks,” he looked over at me before picking up the phone and dialing his number. I watched as he turned away from me. He wasn’t on the phone for very long, and it didn’t sound like it was a good call. 

“I… I gotta go. Can I use your car?” Chip asked as he looked out at the only car in the lot. I followed his gaze at my shitty 2001 Saturn. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking back at him.  

“I can just give you a ride, you know… And, it’d probably be better if you had a partner with you. That phone call didn’t sound good… At all. And, no one will take you seriously dressed like that,” I nodded at his attire. He looked down at what he was wearing before looking back at me. “Back up just in case? No one will notice I’m gone,” I let out a dry laugh. 

“It’ll be dangerous,” he looked at me with worry in his eyes. I shrugged before looking at the ground.

“I could use a little danger in my life,” I laughed before looking back at him, “I’ve been sitting in this stupid office, doing this stupid job since I was 16. The hundreds of people I’ve seen is crazy. This job is boring, I need something risky.” I explained when I noticed he needed more information.

“You could die,” he pointed out. I shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I could die just sitting here. Let me help you,” I stare at him with wide eyes. He looked at the ground and sighed. I could tell he wanted to fight with me, to get me to stay. But I could also tell he really needed help, and really needed to get out of this stupid town and state. 

“Fine, you can come. But, you can’t ask any questions,” he pointed at me. I smiled before closing my laptop and grabbing for my car keys.

“Fine, let’s go,” I looked at him before pushing past him and leaving the office.  

Chip was close behind me, still muttering to himself. From what I did hear, I heard the number 68,000 and then the word dollars. 68,000 dollars??? And he’s in a shit town like this?! What the fuck? What the fuck am I getting myself into? Fuck, this is a mistake… Fuck. 

The ride to the gas station was quiet. Chip must have been thinking of what he was going to say or do when he got there. Let’s just hope it wasn’t Monica there. Bitch is crazy.

“Stay here, I have a feeling what I need isn’t here,” he muttered as he got out of the car. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“W-w-wait, you don’t want me to go with?” I asked as I slipped out of the car too, “Listen, I know the family that owns this gas station. They’re crazy. They’re nuts.”

“I got it. Just… just wait here,” he looked over at me one last time before going in. I stared at the door that he disappeared into before slamming the door shut. I leaned against the side of my car, patiently waiting for Chip to come back out. 

I don’t even know how long he was in there for. But, it was a very long time. Worry took over as I began to overthink things. That dumb bitch probably killed him. 

My worry melted away once he stepped outside with nothing but shame on his face. I raised an eyebrow, watching as he walked closer to me and my car. 

“You look like you saw a ghost or something,” I chuckled as I pushed myself off my car and back around to the drivers’ side of the car.

“No, no it was much worse than a ghost,” he muttered before getting in the car himself. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked towards the doors of the gas station. 

“Whatever,” I shook my head before slipping into the car, “Where to now? Monica’s trailer?” I raised an eyebrow as I glanced over at Chip. I watched as he pulled something out of his mouth and wrinkled his nose. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked over at me before looking around my car. 

“Do you have a plan? Or… Or a gun?” I asked as we got closer to the trailer park. He looked at me with a little terror in his eye. No plan or gun? Seriously? Good thing there’s a gun in my glove box. “You can’t go to these guys with just luck, Chip. That’ll get you killed,” I glanced at him as I reached over for the glove box, pulling it open and pulling out the gun.

“What the fuck! Where did that come from?” he asked, watching as I placed the gun on my lap. I glanced at him as I pressed down on the gas, speeding down the highway. “Jesus! Slow down,”

“You’re the one who fucking lost $68,000 to fucking Monica! You go in and get her money-”

“It’s not her-”

“It’s her money now, Chip. Jesus, she stole 3 of my bikes when we were little,” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Chip looked at me again and nodded. “You’re lucky you have help,” I muttered as I kept my eyes on the road. 

“You know this bitch?” Chip stared at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“She’s my, like, second cousin. My Dad’s niece’s kid,” I shrugged before shaking my head, “She’s a cunt. A fucking cunt,” I scoffed as I remembered my childhood with her. Chip was silent as I pulled into a driveway and parked the car. 

“Oh good, looks like there’s a metal baseball bat in the yard,” I smiled at him. Chip looked at me with wide eyes, actual terror sitting in his eyes. I watched as he unbuckled his seatbelt and rested his hand on the latch to my car. He stayed still for a moment before turning to face me. I could tell that there was a moment of hesitation. I don’t blame him, do be honest. I hesitated to bring him here. Taking him here is basically signing his death warrant.

“Stay… Stay here… If I’m not out in an hour… Call the cops,” he looked at me before slipping out of the car. I watched as he walked up the driveway, picking up the metal bat, and walked towards the door. I almost got out of the car and went after him, but I didn’t. I’ll listen to him. He must have a plan worked out if he didn’t need my help yet.

I swallowed roughly, watching him knock on the door and wait for it to swing open. And when it did, a familiar looking guy stepped out of the trailer. It was obvious he was sizing Chip up, mocking him as he spoke. Chip looked over his shoulder at me, silently pleading for help of some sort. I shrugged, pretending like I didn’t understand what he was asking for. 

A bell ringing came up the driveway and passed me. A familiar blonde riding a bike rode up the driveway. 

“Oh, you again,” Chip spoke out loud at the blonde woman. Amy… Of course. Of course she shows up. She’s probably the one who told him where that bitch, Monica, even lived. I was just happy she didn’t even see me when she rode past me. I didn’t want to be a part of any of that bullshit.

Then he was pulled into the trailer. 

“Fuck, this… This isn’t going to be good,” I muttered as I slouched down into my seat in the safety of my car. I wished there was something more that I could do to help him. Because just sitting here for an hour and waiting to call the cops won’t help me or him, specifically Chip. Fucking around with Monica and her… I don’t even know what to call the people she hands out with. 

I grabbed for my gun again, pulling out the magazine and looking at how much ammo I had. Just as I put my hand on the handle to get out, a loud bang came from near the trailer, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat. I sat, frozen, paralyzed in my spot, staring at the trailer. They’ve just killed Chip. Or, Chip just killed them 

“I don’t know what… What do I do…” I whispered to myself as I stared at the door from the safety of my car. I wasn’t prepared for this at all. What I should have done was follow my own advice to Chip and come up with a secondary plan… I can’t exactly go in there guns blazing… Unless, that’s exactly what I do. They won’t expect Chip to have a partner with him. 

Okay, that’s it… That’s my plan… Bust into the trailer, and just go for it… But, I think… Should I wait the hour Chip told me to wait? What if he’s in trouble? Who am I kidding, he’s totally in trouble. 

{***}{***}{***}

I just wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. Because, the next thing I knew it  was morning and Chip was still in Monica’s trailer. Chip was still in danger.  

I quickly fumbled my way out of the back seat and into the front. It was even worse as I rushed to get out of the car, my body nearly falling to the ground. When I was finally out of the car, I recollected myself, hyping myself up as I walked towards the trailer. 

 I had my gun tucked into the back of my pants as I walked. I didn’t want to be quick, but I also didn’t want to be slow. Chip could be in danger, and it was a little bit my fault. He’d be out of that situation if I hadn’t fallen asleep.

My fist carefully knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer sooner rather than later. When the door flew open, Monica was standing in the door frame, looking down at me with slight disgust.

“We don’t want girl scout cookies,” she looked down at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Good thing I’m not a girl scout, Monica,” I took a deep breath before pulling the gun out from my pants. I lifted it up and pointed it right at her chest. “Where’s Chip,” 

“You want him?” Monica asked, cocking a hip as she leaned against the door frame. She wasn’t even bothered by my weapon being pointed at her chest. It was like she was used to it. “He brought you as back up? Oh that poor boy?” she looked down at the gun. I took a deep breath as I stared at her.  

She knew I wasn’t going to use it. She knew me well enough to know that I just had this stupid gun for looks, and that I wasn’t going to shoot anyone. But, what she doesn’t know is that I’m not afraid of her anymore. She may have tormented me when we were kids. But I’m taking it all back now. 

“Where’s Chip and the money, Monica,” I spoke, my voice low as I spoke. I slowly cocked my gun as I stared at her. 

“Oh, you know about the money too?” she asked before looking into the trailer at her friends and, I’d assume, Chip. “Did you hear that? This slut knows about the money,” she spoke, looking at everyone. I swallowed roughly as she looked back at me, “Is she replacing that other slut we killed last night?” 

“Just go! Get out of here!” I could hear Chip yell from somewhere in the trailer. Monica stared down at me, watching me as my hands shook with the weapon in hand. 

“Too afraid to use that gun?” she mocked in a whiny tone. I blinked slowly as I moved my finger to the trigger. Everything happened so fast, when I opened my eyes, Monica was stumbling back, her hand over stomach where blood was spilling out. Blood was being coughed up as she fell against the couch, looking up at me with wide eyes. “You actually did it,” she coughed, staring at me terror in her eyes. 

“I’m not scared of you anymore, Monica,” I spoke as I stepped into the trailer. I smiled as I looked down at her, cocking my gun and pointing it down at her again, “You terrorized me when we were kids… But not anymore… No,” I took a deep breath before as we made eye contact.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whimpered, looking at me, struggling to move as I got closer to her, “Listen, you can take Chip, and… and the money and go… I’ll leave you alone now…” 

“Sorry just isn’t going to do it, Monica, not this time… Not ever,” I shook my head, “You can burn in hell for all I care,” I scoffed as I stared at her. Blood was dripping down the sides of her lips as she pleaded with me, but at this point I didn’t care about anything she was saying. 

Chip called my name, causing me to look over at him. They really did a number on him. I wonder if they would have gotten this bad had I actually called the cops and did something last night. 

My hands and shoulders dropped as I looked at him. I didn’t even bother with the others around me, I’d take care of them after. 

Or, so I thought… One of Monica’s friends stood up and charged after me. I stumbled back, fumbling to cock the gun before pulling the trigger at him, getting him right in the head. He fell to the ground with a thud, a slab of meat just on the floor. 

“Anyone else?” I looked at the others around me, really feeling my sudden anger and annoyance come through for everyone. The people around me backed away from me. I looked back at Chip, appreciating the way he was looking up at me. Just as I went to my knees to help him, the sound of a shotgun being cocked came from behind me. I froze as the barrel of a gun was pressed right to my head.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sweet Heart?” a woman’s voice asked from behind me. I took a deep breath as I dropped my gun to the ground. I looked back at Chip and noted how the adoration he had in his eyes slowly turned into terror and fear. “Where’s my money, Chip?” the woman asked. There was a certain fakeness in her words that scared me a bit. 

“I… I don’t have it!” Chip shouted as he struggled to stand up. I cringed as Liza pushed the barrel into my head a bit more. I swallowed roughly as I looked at Chip. 

“L-liza? H-h-how did you… How did you find me?” Chip exclaimed as he looked past me and at the woman.

“I told you, Chip, I always know where you are,” her fake sweetness really struck a chord in me, pissing me off more than I was before. “Now… Where’s my money?”

Someone from the sidelines jumped to their feet and instantly charged at Liza. It was terrifying how quick Liza was to turn and shoot the gun at the man. I quickly moved away and grabbed my gun from the ground. I felt a little bad for moving behind Chip, using him as a shield from this new woman.

“You’re so quick to move on, Chippy,” Liza spoke as she looked back at me. I appreciated that Chip actually covered me instead of cowering away like I half expected him to. “First the whore from last night and now her?” 

“I’m not a slut or a whore,” I stared at her. She cocked her head as she looked over at me. Yet, again another one of Monica’s people came after us, only to be stopped by a different person, their arm being sliced off in one swift motion. If you blinked you would have missed it. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of the three girls shouted front he couch. Liza turned to face the person behind her before saying something else. 

“What… What do we do, Chip,” I whispered as I tugged gently on his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at me before lifting his finger to his lips. I stared at him for a moment, watching as he thought of a plan. The level of chaos in the building was starting to stress me out. I wasn’t expecting two terrifying people to show up at an already terrifying place. 

“Go have fun with that one, Dwayne-y,” Liza pointed towards one of the girls on the couch. The guy looked over at the girl before grabbing her and pushing past Chip and I. I fell against the wall and blacked out for a moment. 

When I came too, Liza was standing in front of Chip, talking to him about something. It was eerily quiet in the trailer now, other than Liza and Chip’s voice. My guess was Liza took everyone out. But, why’d she keep me alive? Chip probably bargained for my life. I’m honestly just a bystander in this whole thing, wasn’t I? 

“You can let him run away… you can hunt him down, and kill him… Or… Or you can discipline him.. Teach him to heel or whatever he’s supposed to do,” Liza cocked her head as she looked at Chip. I took a deep breath, looking at the ground and noticed the gun on the ground right behind Chip. “So, Chip, what option do you want?” her tone was filled with that sickening sweetness, and it made me want to beat the shit out of her. 

“Violet said there’s always another option,” Chip spoke softly as he looked at Liza. I carefully moved and grabbed the gun. 

“Oh, she… She did? Well, I don’t see her here… Because she’s dead, Chip,” Liza scoffed. I took a deep and shaky breath before moving around the chair and aiming the gun right at Liza. “Oh, look who’s got the balls now,” Liza looked past Chip and at me. I stared down at her, feeling nervousness in the form of bile rise up my throat. “Are you gonna shoot me? Baby’s gonna sho-” her statement was finished short by a bullet to her head. I closed my eyes and looked down at the ground. 

“Jesus Christ!” Chip shouted as Liza’s body fell to the ground. I took a deep breath before looking down at him. “She’s dead!” 

“She was going to fucking kill both of us, Chip!” I shouted back, looking at him with wide eyes. Chip looked up at me as he stumbled to his feet. 

“Okay, okay,” Chip looked down at me, placing his hand on my shoulder to steady himself. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “$68,000… My clothes, and then we fucking ditch this fucking place,” he pointed towards the door where the creepy man from before dragged a girl. I swallowed roughly as I looked towards the door.

“Here,” I handed him my gun before nodding towards the door. Chip looked down at me, a slight glare in his eyes before he took a step forward. I followed behind him, staying close to his body. He pushed the door open and immediately fired the gun, killing the guy instantly. 

“I’m never going to sleep again, holy fucking shit,” I muttered as I looked at the horrors in front of me. He fucking ripped the girl a part. 

“Stay here for a minute,” Chip muttered before stepping away from me. He didn’t seem bothered by everything. I was impressed that he was able to step into the room more and move stuff around. One he found what he was looking for he came back beside me.

“Let’s fucking go,” he muttered, holding a shoe box under his arm. I looked at the box as I followed behind him. I could kill him right now, and take that 68grand. I could start a new life on my own… 

“Yeah, let’s go,” I looked down at the ground, “Shouldn’t we clean up the place first? Our fingerprints and DNA is all over the place,” I looked around the trailer and at all the dead bodies. Is it bad this didn’t phase me at all? 

“You’re right. Hold this,” he muttered as he shoved the box into my hands. I looked down at it with wide eyes before looking back at Chip. He had a bottle of straight whiskey in his hand and was splashing it around the room, going into the other rooms before coming back. “You think this will be enough?” he asked, looking down at me with a certain exhaustion in his eyes. I tried to look past all the injuries he had earned, but it was hard when they covered his whole face. 

“Hopefully,” I shoved the box back into his arm before leaving the building. I waited just outside as he lit a lighter and tossed it to the floor, causing the whole building to be engulfed in flames. 

“Where to?” Chip asked as we walked back to my car. I looked over my shoulder at the blazing trailer and shrugged.

“Somewhere away from here. But first, we should get you a first aid kit,” 

{***}{***}{***}

We drove for a long time. A very long time. I think we both wanted to make sure we were away from Monica’s trailer before we rested for the night. Which also meant we had to wait a long time before Chip could get the proper care he needed. It wasn’t fair to either of us that this was the case at the moment. I wasn’t ever expecting this to be what happened to me the other day when I woke up. I was just happy that after the second day of driving, he was actually okay.

“I’ll go get a room, you stay here,” I looked over at Chip. It looked like he was asleep, which I was expecting, so when he lifted his head and looked over at me I was a little confused. 

“No, no let me,” he mumbled as he fought to get his seatbelt undone.

“Chip, you look like you just got out of Fight Club… Let me go get the room,” I placed a hand on his to stop him from moving anymore. He looked up at me with a little bit of terror in his eyes, “I’ll be right back, I promise,” I kept my voice low as I spoke to him. 

“Okay, you’re right,” he mumbled before moving his hand away from the buckle. Chip rested his head against the head rest before closing his eyes lightly. I sighed deeply before sliding out of the car and towards the entrance of the hotel lobby. 

I kept my voice low the entire time as I spoke to the front desk manager. It was hard when I also looked like I just got out of a war and the manager kept looking at me like that was the case. When they finally handed me the room key, I let out the deepest sigh of relief and returned out to the car. 

“We have a room… Two days…” I looked over at Chip as I drove to a parking spot near our room. 

“Two days… Nice, nice,” he murmured and nodded. I looked over at him and watched as he slowly unbuckled. 

“You go into the room, I’ll grab the food and first aid kit,” I handed him the key before we both got out. Chip nodded before leaving and going towards the room. I made sure to be quick as I grabbed the stuff from the back.

“Should I shower?” 

“No, no, let me clean your wounds up first,” I nodded towards the bed. Chip looked over at the bed before going to sit on it. I was relieved when he laid back on the bed like nothing mattered in the world. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

 “Are you going to play nurse with me?” he asked, looking at me with a playful smirk on his lips. I laughed and nodded as I approached the bed. 

“Unfortunately, I think I’m all you got,” I laughed as I sat on the bed beside him. He sat up and moved closer to him. We were both quiet as I pulled out alcohol wipes and gauze. I looked at his face, trying to figure out where to start. Thankfully the swelling in his eyes went down, but I cracked an ice pack to help. 

“This is gonna sting,” I looked at his face as I lifted the wipe to his face. He winced as I began wiping the wounds on his face.

“Are you okay?” I looked up at him as I carefully placed butterfly band-aids and regular band-aids over the wounds. He looked back at me, a certain softness in his eyes. I was happy that he’d probably just need a few band-aids on his face instead of gauze and stitches like I’d thought. We both didn’t want to go to the hospital… 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered as he tried to not move away from my touch. I frowned looking at his face. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he added. I looked down at his hands and nodded. 

“Did you want to go to the hospital and tell them the truth?” I raised an eyebrow as I shifted closer to him with an alcohol pad. He cringed as I pressed it to the open wound on his hand. “Sorry,” I cringed as he flinched.

“You’re right, though… I don't think I could make up a believable lie in the hospital,” he looked at me, watching me clean the injuries.. 

“Was it worth it?” I asked, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Chip shrugged a bit like he wasn’t too sure what I was talking about.

“Was… Was what worth it?” he asked, trying not to furrow his eyebrows. I laughed lightly and shrugged.

“The 68 grand that you risked your life for, Chip,” I laughed as I grabbed a bandage and picked it open, “Is it okay if the band-aid is pink with butterflies?” I held it up to show him the design. He swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, it was worth it,” he whispered, causing me to look back at his face. I furrowed my eyebrows when it became my turn to stare at him. “Because if I didn’t lose the $68 thousand... I probably wouldn’t have met you… And you saved my life,” 

“Oh please, don’t compare me to Violet,” I laughed and shook my head. I felt a little bad for bringing up his dead friend, but I personally felt like he was comparing me to her. Just a little bit. 

“I’m not,” he looked taken aback by my sudden statement. I shrugged, not entirely believing him. He knew that too. I looked at him, noting the cut and bruise across his nose. Who knows how long that was going to take to heal, but I hope it didn’t hurt him too much. “I’m being serious,”

“That makes me feel better,” I smiled as I began cleaning up the first aid kit we had bought when we pulled into a new town, “I should probably let you go your own way, come morning. I don’t want to get in the way of you while you’re trying to flee everything” I laughed as I clicked the first aid kit shut, “I’ll let you have my car,” 

“Please stay,” he whispered, watching as I stood and walked across the room. I almost didn’t hear him. But I was preoccupied with my thoughts, trying to figure out how I’d get home if I had given him my car to leave. I was 2 days away from home… That’d be a long way back. “I probably would die if you didn’t come with me,” he added as I turned to face him.

“I’d be pretty useless if I came with. Is your life always like that, Chip?” I asked, placing my fists on my hips. He stayed quiet. “Because if it’s always like that, running from danger and shooting guns…”

“You’ll go back home, I get it. What happened the other day was-”

“I never said that,” I cut him off, “Yeah, what happened the other day was terrifying, Chip. But, I don’t think I’ve ever had such an eventful day in my entire life. I just don’t think I would be able to do that again. That parts gotta go,”

“Consider it gone,” Chip shook his head, watching as I slowly walked back over towards him. I looked down at him, appreciating the way he looked back up at me. “Forgotten. We can… We can buy a house in… In Iowa. Have kids, have a family. Get as far as we can from that place,” he moved his legs and allowed me to stand between them. 

“Iowa?” I scoffed, wrinkling my nose at the thought of moving to Iowa. “And… You want to have kids? After everything that happened? You want to bring kids into this world?” I sighed deeply as I looked down at him. I left out the part of how we just met 4 days ago. He doesn’t even know me. 

“Yeah, but if you were their mother, I think they’d be pretty safe,” Chip laughed as he reached up to grab my hand. I stared at him, feeling my heart swell in my chest. 

“You don’t even know me, Chip,” I laughed lightly. He furrowed his eyebrows before shrugging. “And you already want to have kids with me?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think it matters. You saved my life,” he pointed out. I bit my lower lip as he brushed his thumb across the back of my hand. 

“Yeah,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I stared at him, “You saved mine too, Chip,” I smiled at him, “I think Liza might have killed me if it wasn’t for you,” I laughed lightly out my nose. And, it was true. She probably would have killed me after she knocked me out...

“Well, good thing Dwayne was easy enough to take care of,” he returned the laughter, “Can’t believe I dated that bitch,” he sighed as he looked up at me. 

“Yeah, I was about to say…” I smiled softly. Chip smiled as he carefully tugged my hand so I would fall forward slightly. 

“Kiss me,” he whispered as I braced myself on his shoulder with one hand. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking down at his lips. The cut on his upper lip had thankfully stopped bleeding. 

“Is that a good idea,” I pulled my hand off his shoulder and gently held his face. He wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. “Chip, I’m serious,” 

“I am too,” he begged as he looked at me, “I could di-”

“You won’t die tomorrow. You’re safe now,” I smiled softly as I looked at him.

“So, what’s stopping you from kissing me,” he asked, pointing out the fact that there was indeed nothing stopping me from kissing him. 

“Why you gotta be like that?” I asked, moving my hand up his face. I carefully brushed the wound on his temple before carding my fingers through his hair. 

“Be like what?” Chip asked as I pushed my hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his head. 

“You’re so… nice. You’re not like other men, the ones who look at women like objects,” I laughed and shook my head, “You wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” 

“You do know I killed, like, bunch of people yesterday,” he asked. I smiled and nodded. He pulled his hand from mine and rested both his hands on my hips. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair…” I sighed deeply and cocked my head, “You won’t regret it, will you?” I asked, my voice hardly a whisper.

“Regret what? Kissing you?” He asked, his thumbs playing with the hem of my shirt, just barely touching the skin of my hip. I nodded lightly. “Why would I regret kissing you?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy regret kissing me,” I whispered as I looked away from him, “The last guy I dated… He dated me as a joke… It wasn’t till after we… Well, we did a little bit more than kissing, did he tell me that it was all a joke,” I whispered before looking down at the ground.  

“Nothing about me asking for a kiss is a joke, I promise,” Chip replied, his voice causing me to look back at him. He lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder. “We don’t even have to do anything… You don’t have to ki-”

“I do… I do want to kiss you, Chip,” I whispered softly, “I’m just scared, that’s all,” I stared down at him.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he smiled softly, running his hand down my arm before grasping my hand. I swallowed roughly before moving to straddle his legs. He took a sharp breath as I adjusted myself on his legs.

“Sorry,” I cringed as I tried to get off his legs. Chip looked at me before resting his hands on my hips, keeping me in place on his lap. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, bringing a hand back to my face. I stared at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips.  

After a moment of just staring at each other, I moved forward, closing the space between. Our lips connected, and it was the softest, gentlest kiss ever. Although my lips were still dry, his lips felt dry, drier than the sand on the beach. The blood that was on his lips dried slightly, but it didn’t bother me at all. 

Chip placed his hand on my lower back, moving me closer to his body. My arms wrapped around his neck, my body willingly moving closer to him as if it couldn’t get enough of him. I could tell that he craved me too, his other hand moving hastily around my body. 

“Is this a good idea?” I murmured against his lips. I was careful as I pressed my forehead to his, feeling a small smile tug on my lips. “You’re like… Seriously…” I stopped myself from saying ‘seriously injured’. 

“I’m okay. I’m fine with it if… If you’re fine with it,” he whispered, his hands going back to the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes and let a deep breath of air out my nose. A small smile grew across my lips as his hand finally slipped up my shirt and up to my bra. “Please tell me your fine with it,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. I swallowed roughly and nodded, our noses brushing together as my head moved.  

“Yeah, yeah it’s… I’m fine with it…” I nodded, taking a deep breath before opening my eyes, “I’m more than fine with it,” I whispered as I looked at him.  

That was when he kissed me again. It was different than before. Because, before it was gentle and soft, like he didn’t want me to melt away. But also it was soft because we both had mild- not so mild injuries, and I knew he didn’t want to hurt me. The differences between this one and that one is, fervent and passionate, it took my breath away.

Chip’s hand on my back fiddled with my bra as he tried to unclasp it. I couldn’t help but laugh as he began to struggle. It was clear he was getting frustrated with the struggle, so when I went to help him, he let out a sigh of relief. 

“Sorry,” he muttered as he fought to pull my shirt off. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, it’s okay,” I whispered before lifting my arms in the air. Chip smiled before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it somewhere behind me. I sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air hit my bare chest. Chip was careful as he pressed his lips back to mine, then on the side of my mouth, before trailing down my neck. It was gentle, and soft, but it was enough for me to notice him sucking soft spots on my skin. My hands went back to his head, carefully pulling at the hair on the back of his head.  

My head tilted to the side the further down my neck he went. A small gasp fell from my mouth as he attached his lips to my breast. My fingers gently pulled his hair, causing him to hum lightly. It was hard not to react to him and his touch. I needed him more than I needed air.

“D-don’t stop,” I whispered, my words wavering with each syllable. It was so hard to concentrate on anything as he placed his lips around my nipple. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to arch my back into him more. 

Chip stood up, causing me to latch on to him so I wouldn’t fall, before turning around to put me on the bed. I looked up at him, my breathing picking up slightly as he stared down at me. His lower lip was pulled between his teeth as he looked at me.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I whispered, lifting a hand to his face. He could hear the worry in my words as I spoke, letting his lower lip fall from his mouth. “Your lip is bleeding.” I left out that it was only bleeding a little bit, but it was enough to notice the red. 

“It’s fine,” he whispered, bringing his hand to rest on my cheek. His thumb brushed against my lower lip. My body shivered slightly before I opened my mouth slightly. He smirked before slipping his thumb between my lips. I swirled my tongue around his thumb as I stared at him. 

“Good girl,” Chip hummed, resting his other hand on the mattress by my head. I swallowed roughly before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to my face. He moved his thumb from my mouth and looked down at me.

“Please don’t make me ask more than once,” I whispered, releasing my hand from his shirt to lift it to his face. He flinched away slightly as my hand barely touched his face. I could feel my face soften as I looked at him. “I won’t hurt you, Chip. You’re safe now,” I whispered as I moved my hand from his face.

“I know, I know,” he shook his head before lowering his face to mine, lightly pressing his lips to mine. I hummed, wrapping my arms around his neck again. “You won’t have to ask more than once,” he murmured against my lips. He looked down at me before pressing his lips to mine again, slowly kissing down my neck and chest. 

Although he was quick to move down my chest, he was slow once he got to my hips. 

“Hold on,” he stepped away from me, rushing to the bathroom real quick. I sat up, resting back on my hands, as I waited for him to come back. 

“What… What are you doing, Chip?” I asked, my patience starting to wear thin as the seconds ticked by. I swallowed roughly as he stepped back out of the bathroom.

“Cleaning my face a little bit more,” he looked at me with a small smile on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows as he came back to stand between my legs. 

“I-I’m confused,” I looked up at him. Although, I really shouldn’t be confused. I’m the one who said ‘Please don’t make me ask more than once.’ and he obviously wanted it as badly as I did.

“You know,” he smiled as he lifted my hips a little bit before pulling my pants off my body. I suddenly couldn’t control my breathing anymore, and I was left trying to control myself. “Wouldn’t want to get blood everywhere,” he looked up at me as he dropped my pants to the ground.  

I stared at him watching as he lowered to his knees between my legs. He was gentle as pressed his lips to the soft skin on my inner thigh. I took a deep breath, trying so hard to regulate my breathing. My elbows and arms gave out, causing me to lie back hard on the bed. 

“So beautiful,” Chip whispered before blowing softly at my core. I gasped and pressed my head into the bed beneath me. My hands and fingers got knotted up in his hair again, slowly pulling his head closer to my body. 

Chip laughed at me before peppering butterfly kisses over my pussy. I gasped, tugging lightly on his hair. He looked up at me before grasping both of my hands and holding them down on the bed. 

“Ch-chip, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I whimpered pulling at his hands. He hummed before licking a stripe right up my cunt. I swear, I couldn’t even breathe. He squeezed my hands as he kept licking at me. After a moment, his lips attached around my clit, sucking softly at the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” I cried out as he pulled a hand from one of mine. I didn’t even notice that he pushed a finger into me. My free hand went over my mouth as a moan fell from me. Chip obviously enjoyed that sudden reaction, causing him to moan too. The vibrations from him caused me to moan again. 

“ ‘m so close. Please, Chip, so close,” I moved my hand to his hair and pulled on it a lot harder than before. It was like I couldn’t breathe, the wind being knocked from my lungs like I was punched in the gut. “Fuck, Chip,” I moaned, my hips jerking at him. He pulled his hand from mine and placed it firmly on my stomach, holding me down. 

“You’re doing so good, Princess,” he murmured against my body. I cried out when he pressed his lips back on me. 

My mind went fuzzy and my vision turned white. I could feel my toes curling against the rough, scratchy comforter beneath me. My hands gripped his hair and the blanket so tightly I was sure my knuckles would blanch. And the only thing I could say was his name as I came.

My chest heaved as I tried to breathe. When I opened my eyes, Chip was back over me. He smiled, clearly enjoying what had just happened. 

“That was… That was good,” I laughed lightly. Chip returned the laughter before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed following after him as he pulled away from me. 

“That was, like, barely the pregame,” Chip laughed as he looked down at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and smiled softly. “If at all the pregame,”

“Well are you going to get started on the actual game or just leave me alone?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I stared at him. Chip laughed again before standing up right to rid himself of his jeans. I quickly moved so I was lying up by the pillows. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked once he was back over me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m positive. If I wasn’t… I wouldn’t have let you eat me out the way you did,” I laughed as I brought my hands to his face, “I appreciate you cleaning your face a bit before you did that though. I don’t really want the staph infection or STD,” I laughed harder than I should have. But that in turn caused Chip to glare at me.

“Well, now I don’t think I want to have sex with you,” he looked away from me before sitting up right. I stopped laughing before sitting up to look at him. 

“C’mon, Chip, I was just joking.” I moved so I was closer to him, “I’d love to get a STD from you,” I bit back my laughter as I looked at him. He glared at me again. 

“Shut up,” he muttered, looking down at the bed. I smiled before lifting a hand to his face.

“You’re the one who wants to fuck the girl you just met 4 days ago,” I pointed out as I moved to straddle his waist. He looked at me as I sat on him. “But, to be fair, I also want to have sex with the guy I met 4 days ago so it’d be a little hypocritical of me to judge you,” I shrugged. I tried really hard not to look at his cock, but it was right there… It was obvious that he was painfully hard. “Use me, Chip,” I swallowed roughly as I looked up at his face. His eyes were scanning my face as his hands were resting on my hips. I could feel his fingers digging into my skin, and I was more than happy to let that happen.

What he did next surprised me. He lifted my hips up so I was hovering over him, before slamming me on his cock. A shout came from my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my face into his shoulder as I tried to breathe properly after the sudden intrusion. 

“Fuck,” I panted before looking up at him after a moment. My muscles clenched around him as I slowly got used to his size. Chip pressed his lips to mine before carefully thrusting up into me. My hips slowly moved, meeting him at the perfect spots. His lips hardly left mine, and when they did it was only for a few moments.

“Gonna fill you up,” Chip mumbled as he pressed his lips to my neck, “Gonna put a baby in you,”

“Please! Don’t stop, fuck,” I cried, rolling my hips against his. My mouth opened around his shoulder, my teeth carefully sinking into his skin. “God,” I whined looking back up at him, “Do it, please, do it,” 

“Yeah? You like that?” Chip groaned as he brought a hand to my chest. I let out a shaky breath and nodded as he massaged my breast. “Being filled with my cum, carrying my child,” he looked up at me. I pressed my lips together and nodded, feeling myself get closer to the edge. 

“Fuck, Chip, please,” I placed my hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer to my face. I pressed my lips to his as he pulled me closer to his body, my chest pressing against his. 

My breathing grew raged as he picked up his pace. His hand dropped to where our bodies met, his finger encircling around my clit. I was pushed right to the edge, calling out his name as he called out mine. His hips faltered slightly as he filled me with his essence. 

My head dropped to his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his chest. It took a while for either of us to move, the intensity of the moment catching up with us. Although, the last few days in general were catching up with me. 

“I gotta clean you up,” Chip finally whispered after a moment. I swallowed roughly before I struggled to get off his lap. 

“You really do want to have kids with me,” I laughed as we finally broke a part, “I mean, yeah I want kids too. But not for a while,” 

“I told you, we gotta get to Iowa first,” Chip looked over at me as he got off the bed. When he noticed that I was a little nervous about that, he came over to my side, “We don’t have to go to Iowa,”

“No, no, I know… It’s just… The thought of leaving… And going with you. The other day was terrifying, with everything th-What if I just left?” 

“I know you're nervous. You have every right to be nervous. If we leave, we can get as far from that place as possible. We can find a safe place and be safe… Together,” he knelt on the ground beside me. I looked down at him and nodded, “Besides, you had the most boring life in that stupid motel,”

“True, true,” I laughed and shook my head, “You’re not going to, like, murder me… Are you?” I looked at him as I carefully grasped his hand.

“No! I wouldn’t do that! After the shit I just said to you with my cock in you? You think I’d kill you?” Chip nearly fell back on the ground, causing me to laugh again. I smiled and nodded.

“Okay, I… I guess if the worst thing you’ll do to me is get me pregnant… Then I think I’m safe.” I looked at him with a small smile, “And that’s not even bad,” I shrugged as I looked at the bed in front of me.

“I won’t murder you if you won’t murder me,” he spoke, lifting his hand and showing me his pinkie. I looked back at him and nodded.

“Promise,” I whispered before interlocking my pinkie with his. 

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[dolliedarlin]

Hi I’m one of the anons who’s obsessing over the P.A series!!!!! For some reason my brain has been full w diff things that could happen IDKKK! Hope u don’t mind if I dump a few....

TW: this is A bunch of rambling and some grammar errors LMAO sorry

Idk y I c y/n having a stalker💀 this prob sounds rlly weird but hear me out. (To add drama, also I Lowkey wanna c Mina,Sero and kiri get mad idk y-)

Since we all know y/n is the baddest most sophisticated b*tch (sorry idk if I’m allowed to cuss or not LMAO) her Ex lover is still obsessed w her and thinks that they are soulmate even tho they obv aren’t. I feel like y/n knows he stalks her but she ignores it until it gets worst. Like he found out where she lives. (He finds out where she lives while she’s sick which is now loll)

Anyways I feel like Mina would be over at y/ns place and since she’s getting better they are In her living room talking abt who knows what and y/n gets a knock on her door she goes to open it and admittedly closes it looking shocked. Mina being a pro hero is  supposed to be able to read body language. Mina ask her if everything is Alr and y/n OFC (stupid a**) says yes. Mina didn’t want to keep pressing the issue so she dropped it until it became a reoccurring thing with y/n and it’s not just her that noticed. She (y/n) is extremely hesitant to open the door and when she does she opens it a little bit. (And then idk her EX does crazy like breaks into her apt and scares the sh** outa y/n) THIS IS WHERE MY BIG IDEA STOPS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 that was a lotta rambling my apologies

Have a great day dollie!

oh no! please don’t feel bad, it’s always fun for me seeing what you dolls would want to happen next

although i don’t plan on bringing any psycho exes into ‘the p.a’ series, as a writer and an avid daydreamer, i can’t help but play around with this idea 

warning: there are brief mentions of violence ; this is not a part of ‘the p.a’ series but is just a little thought that i just couldn’t help but try my own hand at also ; i didn’t edit this either 😂 so kindly forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes 

continuing on from your idea...

⏤mina, having the sneaking suspicion that something bad might happen to you that night, notifies the rest of the group later on that day

⏤usually, bakugou was in charge of you during the night and always sat in a chair beside your bed on high alert, ready to serve your every need...

⏤BUT!

⏤now that mina told them about your suspicious behaviour, all of them were put on high alert. 

⏤they all agreed to keep you unaware of their intentions by having bakugou take care of you like usual but they made sure that when on the night patrol, they were close by with their radios on and constantly being hyper aware of the shortest route to your residence from wherever they were situated - just in case of an emergency 

⏤naturally, they trusted bakugou with keeping you safe but that didn’t mean that they had no worries for you at all 

⏤seeing as you usually feel asleep before bakugou switched with the sero, who took care of you in the late evening, you were under the impression that you were alone at home 

⏤your current condition disallowed you from comfortably staying awake so you were constantly tossing and turning in bed, brows furrowed and sweating more than usual

⏤”what is she dreaming about?” bakugou utters in frustration as he continues to wipe away the vastly accumulating sweat rom your wrinkled brows

⏤he wasn’t frustrated at you no no, he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t make you comfortable no matter how many wet towels he uses to cook your forehead or wipe your sweat clean off your skin 

⏤as the night progresses, you eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, far too exhausted to continue stressing over your ex with the added burden of your fever on your body

⏤nevertheless, bakugou continues being on high alert at all times except for when he momentarily leaves to room so as to go to the toilet 

⏤this was the perfect opportunity for your crazy ex to sneak into your room via the window bakugou left ajar so as to help cool you down better 

⏤your ex was a creepy and disgusting man - someone that you had grown to dislike the more you got to know him and naturally left as quickly as you were able to 

⏤what followed was harassment to the highest degree, thankfully you were able to protect yourself due to your self defence training and quirk, however, it didn’t take away the shuddering feeling of being watched constantly

⏤you grew paranoid and extremely fidgety over time and eventually filled for a restraining order. unfortunately, that didn’t work and left you to deal with the situation yourself

⏤you were naive enough to think that you had shaken him after a particularly horrible beating he took from you in self defence. he had come at you with a knife but you were able to disarm him and send him limping home with a dislocated arm, a black eye and a bruised ribcage 

⏤over time, you got busy with work and slowly forgot about him, it wasn’t until today that you were reminded of his crazy obsession with you and were thrown into a panic 

⏤believing that you were alone at night and in your most vulnerable state, you didn’t feel safe and sought to deal with the situation however you could, even in your dreams

⏤all attempts were in vain, however

⏤bakugou, returning from his momentary break to the toilet came back just in time to see your creepy ex hovering over your sleeping figure. as if you sensed the unpleasant existence stalking you, your body stiffened under the blankets and you began to breathe uncomfortably, beginning to sweat bucket-fulls once more

⏤not wanting to disturb your sleep as rest was the top priority for you, bakugou crept up from behind the unknown figure and instantly went for his neck, choking him into silence as he dragged his thrashing figure outside, far away from you all the while sending a emergency signal to the rest of the squad 

⏤in no time at all, the rest of the squad arrived and had your crazy ex cornered. at this time he had already been tied up by bakugou and was ready for a quick chat 

⏤”what the hell were you doing with our yn?” kirishima began, sharp teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw 

⏤silence 

⏤”speak up, we can’t fucking hear you,” bakugou spat as the others glared on from beside him, their eyes piercing through the moonlight and darkness of the night 

⏤”y-yn isn’t yours - that’s the first thing,” your ex finally cracked, giggling creepily in between 

⏤”you’re right,” sero began, “yn doesn’t belong to anyone so why were did you break into her house,” it took everything in sero not to lash out but they needed answers

⏤”wrong again!” your ex sang, “she doesn’t belong to you, she belongs to me! i’m her boyfriend!”

⏤”yn doesn’t have a boyfriend,” kaminari spoke up

⏤”that’s right! and if she did, we would have known,” mina agreed

⏤“that’s because she doesn’t know it yet, we broke up but we’ll get back together again soon” the tied up man giggled to himself, “it’s only a matter of time before she realises her mistake and she comes back to me,” 

⏤the team of heroes didn’t know what to say, they were so shocked and appalled at what they were seeing and hearing that they couldn’t bring themselves to utter a single word of response, they only listened further

⏤”i hoped she’d come back soon, anyway...but i was getting impatient so i had to try and convince her a little more. she’s been ignoring my love for her all this time, she can’t continue rejecting me for long...” he laughs, “i bet she misses it”

⏤“miss what...?” bakugou didn’t want to know but it had to be said

⏤”i bet she misses being with me. she’s so beautiful and so soft to the touch, she always smells good too and she has such a lovely voice - i want her all to myself, she doesn’t deserve to be anybody else’s”

⏤it was then that the team of heroes just about lost their minds. the creep before them didn’t say anything explicit but the madness in his eyes and the harrowing smile he was displaying was off putting. they dread to imagine what a lowlife nasty sob like him put you through but they saw flashes of unforgivable scenes that sent all of them into insanity 

⏤someone so precious to them didn’t deserve any such treatment. you may not have disclosed anything to them strict on being professional but if this man was willing to break into your house...they were fearful to think about what else he was capable of

⏤he deserved a beating from that act alone, actually, and a beating he got

⏤they could’ve killed the guy - they were more than tempted to and it would have been so easy...but he deserved to suffer in jail for his crimes against you so they held back no matter how painful that was for them 

⏤the very next day, under their authority and recommendation, the man was locked up for as many years as they could tally up and seeing as they were heroes, they were able to look into his past documentations and found you had filed a restraining order for him under harassment, assault and a number of other things they grew all the more furious at the more the read

⏤they would prefer it if you didn’t realise what they did that night but the media couldn’t let the story of 5 high class pro heroes sending a singular, beaten man to jail for life

⏤your creepy ex’s battered photos were all over the news and you were so incredibly grateful  

[enhyupn]

the perfect date! four

masterlist | previous | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned, jealousy, arguments + there might be grammatical and spelling errors in this 😞

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i should really make a masterlist BUT!!! okay i’ll edit this properly soon my eyes aren’t working rn since i’m on the road also it’s taking a while to get to the actual date 😩 Bit so wait for that everyone

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush @penghoons @min-arya @sunooflowerss @badroseee @cha-raena @ghjasksdk @strawr @jaypen @nanachuu @nikisboxysmile @softkons @kisshoons-main @enha-woodzies

you had felt as if your feet were about to fall off by the time you had reached the gate of your well loved home. with heavy breaths you could see the outline of a figure standing almost a meter away from you. a scowl on your face when you saw the almost semi-permanent smirk placed on jay’s face as he stood proudly in front of your home. you let an exasperated sigh out as you lean against the cold metal gate, not able to find the energy to open it up. the lack of daylight surrounding you only really added to your draining energy. you roll your eyes before fixing your school blazer into it’s proper appearance and adjusting your school bag to fit comfortably on your shoulder. you look up once again, your eyes meeting the blonde dyed boy’s eyes. a smile placed in his eyes, something that showed you that had been waiting for you.

your mind couldn’t help but remind you that this was one of the few moments where you had really taken the time to look at jay’s face. your time in middle school didn’t really give you any opportunities due to the fact you were so shy and bashful in front of the boy that you couldn’t even properly look at him. you just so barely properly spoke to him and exchanged messages to even form some sort of connection. you never really questioned until then why he had a crush on you in middle school, a time in your life where you had thought you were going to be alone forever. as much as you wanted to question him you knew you’d accidentally expose your own past crush, something you desperately didn’t want to explain.

“are you gonna greet me or are you just gonna keep staring at my face?” he teased, letting out a hearty laugh. you shook your head, not approving of his statement. you unlock your gate as you send him another glare. the wind added to the already dramatic yet heart warming scene, loose cherry blossom petals from a nearby tree flying around you almost romantically.

“i was not” you murmured as you had gotten closer to him, the sound of the grass lightly flattening as you walked over it with care. you might of even stepped on a bug in the process, none of the surrounding light exposing itself onto the lawn meaning your vision was very little. “as if i’d willingly do that”. the boy only laughed in response as you leaned against the wall, very eerily close to him. you eyes dart to the small space in between the two of you, unexplainable heat rushing to your cheeks. the boy sends you a look with his eyebrow raised, unsure what the problem was. “anyways, what was that call even for?” you manage to shift the attention back into your words.

“hmmmm” he pretended to think, the joke only causing you to snort quietly to yourself. his head suddenly twists towards you, the previous view of your sad looking garden not doing him any justice in your conversation. from your point of view, your eyes only widened in surprise when you had realised just how close your faces were together. his nose was almost touching yours and, if you wanted to, you could of even touched foreheads together. “i don’t know”.

“what do you mean i don’t know?” you move your face back, jay not noticing the small movement from your sudden bashfulness. “who calls saying i’m at your house, come home quickly before i break in without a reason?” you continue, hands flying around you as you try and theatrically explain his excuse.

“maybe i do?” jay laughed in between his words. you roll your eyes at his playfulness, a small smile forming on your lips when you looked down at your feet. as much as you wanted an explanation, hearing jay finally for the first time in years joke around with you simply just felt better.

“veeerry funny jay” you spoke breathily, leaning further against the wall of your home. you knew your parents were waiting for your arrival, probably sitting in their room asking themselves when you’ll eat your dinner. however, you weren’t entirely really sure if they knew about jay’s sudden visit outside your door. with a quick sigh out you turn to him once again, the boy only mirroring your action with a grin spread across his face. “how did you know where i live? or remembered my number?”.

“jake, for both of your answers” you seem raise an eyebrow at the mention of your best friend’s name, suspicious on what had happened between the two of them.

“you two are buddy-buddy now?” you tease, your fingers wiggling in front of his face playfully as you let a squeaky laugh out. jay lightly swatted your hands away, a low chuckle escaping him mouth as he turned away from you to look at the bland scenery in front of him.

“not exactly, we just both relate to things i guess” he replied quietly, the sound of crickets chirping and wind slightly breezing through following the sound of his voice. your lips morph into a small smile when you had listened to his words.

“that’s nice to hear” you sigh out blissfully, your head nodded in agreement while turning to the front of you too to look at the same scenery his eyes were trained on. “no more fighting then, i suppose?”.

“can’t promise that one” jay awkwardly let out, his head replaying the memory of earlier that evening. he bit his lip in guilt, feeling yet again apologetic about the whole situation. “hey i’m sorry—”

“—it’s fine” you interrupt him abruptly. you had already predicted what he was about to say, knowing jay’s personality you knew he would feel incredibly guilty about it. you knew it wasn’t either of their faults, from every way you’ve looked at the situation you understood that the two of weren’t the best with handling any sort of feelings they felt. “you two were just emotional, plus i wasn’t giving you enough attention today too”.

“give me attention?” he laughed, a growing blush scattering across his face. his brain almost blew up at your slightly affectionate comment. “why would you say it like that?”.

“oh shut up” you nudge him lightly, biting your lip in slight embarrassment when you had realised what you had said. “you know what i mean! i haven’t seen you in forever and of course you would wanna catch up with me”. you glance at him while your feet tapped slightly, “right?”.

“how cocky of you to think i missed you” jay jokingly rolled his eyes. you could tell from his playful tone that he was just teasing you, although it didn’t stop you from lightly elbowing him in the side.

it felt nice, talking so freely with the boy you’ve probably spent a good chunk of your life thinking about and as well as even missing. the brain of middle school you would of never even thought this would of happened, with you thinking then that the two of you were on two completely different levels (with jay being on the significantly higher level, even during those middle school years). you wish you could of told your younger self that those times spent silently admiring your school crush wasn’t a one sided thing as much as you had thought.

“don’t go thinking i missed you either too then!” you pout. the action setting jay’s brain into haywire, you had such an affect on him but you were the only one who couldn’t realise it.

he abruptly swivels his head forward, not wanting you to catch his embarrassing slip up. your own action caused him to clear his head completely blank, not having any snarky comebacks for your reply.

“remember the jeju day trip in middle school?” jay changed the subject, it caused you to raise an eyebrow before taking a glimpse at him.

you didn’t really understand why he had brought it up, it wasn’t anything significant. you can vaguely even remember the day, the only real memory you had of that day was your aunt dressing you up for it. she had wanted you to look your best, you can’t really thank her for anything since that whole night was truly just unmemorable.

“no” you paused to rack your brain in hopes to find anything to add to his question. “why? was there something worth remembering?”, yet another pout formed on your face from his puzzling question.

“the plane ride there?” he mentioned, trying to jog your memory in hopes to find what he was trying to say. “do you seriously not remember?” he laughs unexpectedly, his voice only sending your heart beating rapidly.

“n-no” a stutter had caught up to your words. you had no idea why he was still giving you this affect. i mean you’ve gotten over him over the course of his absence, right?

“well, remember earlier today, what i told you in front of sunghoon and jake” he rambles on, completely ignoring your embarrassed state. you glance back at him, noticing he was awkwardly playing with his fingers with tinted red ears. you smile to yourself, the boy setting your cheeks on fire with small actions that you didn’t think would even affect you.

“yeah, what about it?”

“i said i had a crush on you” he continued, his words only sending butterflies to your stomach as you tried to put on a calm smile. you only nodded silently, unable to find the correct answer to reply to him with. “on the plan ride to jeju, we sat beside each other” you watched from his side his hands ran through his hair, “you were so talkative and just so bright— happy? something like that. i remember only wanting to talk to you that whole day after we got off the plane, my friends kept teasing me about it and wouldn’t stop asking why i kept glancing at you throughout our whole trip”.

“you’ve liked me since then?” you let out; quietly questioning his comment, your hands cupping your mouth in realisation at your slight mixup of words. “i mean— you started liking me then? up until whenever you’ve stopped liking me? you get what i’m trying to say—”.

“who said i stopped liking you?”

if words could kill, his would of definitely made you drop stone cold onto the ground. you open your mouth, and without surprise nothing came out due to your speechless state of mind. did he really just— was he being serious? that’s all you could think as you blankly stared at his face, eyes slightly widening as a small smirk laced through his lips. you would of comically checked your pulse in front of him as a way to ease this tension but you were too star struck to even move an inch. what was going on?

“h-huh?” only a noise came out of your mouth, desperately yelling at yourself to just even let out a single word. jay only seemed to find humour in this situation, chuckling at your frozen state as he straightened his back. with a step forward he looked back at you, his face being illuminated by the cheap porch light in front of your door. you could only gulp at his figure, somehow looking more like a pictorial pose than a casual pose regular people would normally do.

“you heard me” with his head whipping back to the front of him. he placed both of this hands behind his head, an audible yawn coming out of his mouth to express his drowsiness. “it’s getting late isn’t it?” he had professed quite randomly, a completely different choice of topic than your original one.

“well, yeah...” you replied, your words sounding confused. if someone had asked you what the two of you had been talking about that whole evening, you wouldn’t of been able to tell them anything.

“i should get going then” he stretched his arms gently, an action now raising your eyebrow in suspicion. with your arms crossed you watched as he took a step further away from you, his figure almost disappearing in the darkness of your garden.

“you’re just not gonna explain your last sentence?” you nervously informed the boy of his previous words. the boy only continued his walk down the small pathway in front of the two of you, a laugh being heard even with the distance.

“what do you mean explain?” he taunted, finally reaching the cold metal gate you had earlier made in contact with. the creak of the gate caused you to flinch in shock, you watched as he swiftly made his way past your gate, his feet stopping as he closed it again. staring back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “the explanation’s right there”.

“but—”

“see you tomorrow y/n” he put a stop to your attempt, a small smile dancing happily upon his face as he took off on his journey home. “sweet dreams!” you could faintly hear him as he made his way deeper down your street.

“what— what was that about...” you spoke hesitantly. your words coming out quietly unable to really understand what had happened, something that was happening far too often that day. you understood what he said definitely, but at the same time what did he say? he said the explanation was there but as much as you wanted your brain to believe his words, you couldn’t allow yourself.

you stood there for a good few minutes, your brain trying to come up with reasonable answers; ones that weren’t pointing towards the conclusion that jay park could possibly like you. as in like—like romantically! there was no way you were going to let yourself believe in something as unbelievable as that. letting out a loud sigh you finally make up your mind to go inside your house, not having the energy to even try and make up an excuse to your parents on why you were arriving home so late.

with your hand on the door handle you felt a surprising quick vibration coming from your right pocket. you sweat instantly on the spot, your brain instantly scattering the word jay in the blank spaces in your mind. cautiously, you dipped your hand into your pocket, bracing yourself for a very awkward message from the blond boy.

park sunghoon (3-A) added you to “booth @ festival”

you sighed happily at the notification, until you had realised the previously mentioned boy was also in this group chat. your eyes drifted at sunghoon’s contact name, the formality of it almost begging you to change it into something more casual.

sunghoon: Meeting tomorrow at 7:30AM sharp, please be there on time.

jakey: sure! no promises though

jakey: the bus run’s on it’s own time sometimes

sunghoon: I can excuse that.

jay: why do you type so stiff

you couldn’t help but agree at jay’s off topic tease, sunghoon’s way of typing seemed very formal for a group chat with your classmates. a quiet giggle escaped your mouth as you walked into your house, “i’m home!” you informed your family as you raised your voice one step into your home.

sunghoon: What do you mean?

jay: ok nvm

y/n: i’ll be there!! see you three tmr 🤍

with your hand forcefully taking your shoes off, you lazily typed your reply with one hand with little to no attention on your screen. you felt your heart race rapidly when you realised, out of habit, you send a white heart to the group of boys. cursing to yourself you threw your shoes onto your shoe rack, the position of them awkwardly almost falling off the shelf they were on. you swiftly typed out a reply, trying to explain your small accident without further embarrassing yourself.

y/n: i didn’t mean the heart .

jay: sureee you didn’t

y/n: shut up

jakey: this is like the third time you’ve done that

y/n: STOP IT PLEASE FOR MY OWN SAKE

sunghoon: I think we should stop embarrassing Y/N.

y/n: thank you sunghoon

y/n: ummmm anyways goodnight!

you groaned loudly, knowing it was more than likely that jake and jay would tease you about it the following morning. you felt yourself dramatically falling on your bed, your face being engulfed by your bed sheets as you ran your hands through your head in frustration. the only thing stopping you from screaming your embarrassment out was the fact someone in the room beside you scolded you for making noise so late in the night.

“sorry!” you replied back, your face warm from your burst of energy. “can’t wait for tomorrow” you sarcastically whispered to yourself, bringing yourself to sit properly at the edge of your bed.

in the whole course of a day, nothing had gone to plan. first jay showing up? jake confessing to you? sunghoon (kind of) walking you home? all of this just on day one, you couldn’t even imagine what day two was going to be like.

“cannot wait!”

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Chapter 14 (Witcher of the Night)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 13.1 (PREVIOUS CHAPTER)

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: NSFW. 18+ Geralt tried his best to resist. With Destiny sitting on her throne, utterly anticipating for how the witcher would react to your rut. She won the game this time because Geralt of Rivia was a lone man who couldn't say no to a woman who was thirsty for what the Djinn has held her in, especially when this woman was you.

Warnings: Size kink? Cockwarming? Insecure reader. Unprotected sex but no worries because it's Geralt? The long awaited smut. Smol tittie reader? (Respect to the big tittie committee, please do donate some to us!) Frustrated Geralt and reader. Wet Geralt? He's in the tub okay! 😂💕 Loss of virginity. NSFW. 18+. Explicit words. They’re both in a rut on this one. This is basically just smut before the plot shifts.

Words: 7.8k

A/N: STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM NOW WE HERE 😎 GET WRECKED, MIDGET! Also, SCREAM FOR ME, BB'S! I know y'all are waiting for this moment to shine! xD I've realized that the next smut after this is more explicit than Chapter 14. So, get ready for that as well. Most GIF’s are from (demivampirew) 💕

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi 

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Geralt's touches nearly pacified the scathing heat surging through your body. Your head that was nuzzling in between his neck helps soothe the pain. Howbeit, with Geralt; he was feeling rather tormented especially when the simple intimacy was winding the witcher up in a very hellish way.

The tip of your nose brushing against that part of his neck that had him turning rigid was driving him insane. Just your nose perched in the curvatures of his neck made the tent even more bigger, thoroughly agrestal and waiting to be unshackled from its pound.

Your satisfied sighs, breath that brushed and tickled his skin had received a deep timbre of warning from the man whom you were precariously desiring for. The way your breath touched his skin made his jaw clench so tight as he brought you up stairs, surrounding you in his rugged arms that you also wanted to kiss, wondering how strong it looks like once he was disrobed.

You never had seen Geralt in the raw. The way his clothes strains on top of his Herculean body was enough vision that he was utterly jacked; shredded and a man whom made your reticence plummet down the sewers like it has never been there before, the sexual longing and curiosity filling the void of lechery that has been furtively hidden and was now growing in absolute masses because of how one man can ruin that sobriety you have been holding dear.

When you were gently dropped down to your feet, torrid kisses and passionate touches were expected; but the way he'd stepped away to tell you that you needed a bath to take the heat away had your head turning hotter from how he wasn't dealing with your ache just like the way you wanted him to.

It was better if he joined, you asked him that but his silence was enough of an answer that he wouldn't despite of how you've noticed the wolf that rested in between his leather pants, waiting to be released from its cage and find relief in between that hollow cave you've been dying to be visited at.

"Midget..." the white haired witcher was belligerent as he seethed, giving you a frown because of how uncooperative you were becoming; turning hostile as much as you can get.

Geralt took a step closer, his actions appearing to be quite the contrary of his words when he'd tried to grab onto the hem of your sweater before you immediately jerked away; maddened for your wishes to be dismissed like he wasn't feeling the same way. You were desperate now. You understood and knew what relief that the pain needed to take.

"Stop touching me! I'm not going to undress myself in front of you, Geralt! I want you! Not a bath!" you loudly snapped, voice definitely ear-piercing by how you wanted to be followed; shaking the tranquil night away from your antagonism.

The way you've jerked away from him had dropped down more frustration to himself and to you as well. You've wanted nothing but to be in his arms, kissing him, touching anywhere you haven't touched, exploring the deepest depths of him that you haven't discovered. Geralt lowly groaned, his mouth in a tight lour that simply tells you he was utmost pissed-off from your resistance.

"Cease the mulish act even just for tonight!" he barked rather furiously, teeth gritted together with his eyebrows tightly curved in a way that alarmed you that he seemed to also be in pain; struggling with the appetite he seemed to be famished with, the cravings he desired standing before him whom also had the same wishes in her mind.

"Oh! now, I'm the one stubborn?! Why don't you do it for yourself too, Mr. stubborn-pants!? Why don’t you cease the mulish act even just for tonight, huh?!" you sent a snark, glaring back at the infuriated witcher. His eyes were burning in aggravation and midnight, dilated in a process of telling you he was in mania. Carnal manias. Geralt emitted a feral growl; in distress for himself, what was happening to him and also to your inflexible decisions.

"---and also cease the fucking crabbiness!" he snarled out loud.

The heat stirring below your belly wasn't helping his exasperation towards the situation at hand. His enraged demeanor stirring a strong prurient desire that sat between your legs, making you cross them together as you've continued your narks; trying to get under his skin. Literally or figuratively.

Your nose was flaring and so was his, emotions riling up your mind as you truthfully snapped the grudging feelings out in the open; freely for Geralt to hear and react upon.

"Stop caring like you're actually fond of me when you're not!"

"You're in pain!" the white haired witcher was quick to bark, hands on his sides and tightening them into tight fists as he mindlessly raked your ungraceful form; dilated pupils and your legs crossed like the heat was starting to pool down your pants. You were aroused alright.

Hence, Geralt knew that, sensed that. He could smell you from afar and the scent that naturally dripped from you was far more better than the Lemon and Peony he'd been thoroughly accustomed with.

It was heating him up; a lot more than he ever felt, if that was even possible.

You've given him a black look, teeth clenched together as you were hopping mad. The words that came out of your mouth seeming to be a sudden slip of your tongue.

"It's all your genie's fault and I'm blaming the Djinn again for even letting me fall for you hard because apparently, in your oh-so-silent witcher perspective; all that I’m feeling had magical or supernatural explanations! Thank you for letting me realize that, sir! I really needed that subtle rejection!"

The witcher blinked, his stance thoroughly livid. Back tense and piping warm as his heated gaze was solely on your enraged, elfin self. Your candor stirring and kindling with the fire that was sipping through his veins, wanting nothing but to strafe your lips with passionate kisses he'd fantasized about, exploring fascinating chasms and cavities that has never been traversed yet.

You were hot under the collar, completely seething as you've given him the most nasty lour you could. Still, being pigheaded from what you wanted, trying to furiously explain to him that you needed a different kind of relief that involved intercourse and not a lame bath. He couldn't help but try to soothe his displeasure by fluttering his amber eyes shut, controlled breathing slipping through his flaring nose as he lowly seethed.

"You need to calm down!---Stop shouting."

Your indignant self was awakening something barbarous within him, violently rousing the thirst that has been there from the start and he was certain that if you push harder, he may never be able to control.

Not anymore.

Severe profanities tripped out of your tongue, the profound sensations and feelings consuming you too much; more so difficult to handle as the clock ticks by with Geralt who stood maddened and raging with such desire that he appeared to be in denial about. His glowing amber eyes piercing through the piety of your soul, begging nothing but to corrupt you in any way despite of his refusal to accept.

"Don't go all alpha-shit on me, Geralt! I'm shouting because I'm in pain! I'm fucking frustrated, sad, weirdly thrilled, very infuriated because of your foolishness and I don't even know the fuck why!"

Your sudden impiety had the witcher cocking his head to the side, feeling his leather pants grow tighter by how you've spat those words with such a harsh tone when he shouldn't be feeling things by being cursed back by a midget who he'd seen to be vindicated and a little bit demented for his sanity.

"I know you're in pain!" Geralt fumed, heavily swallowing the discomfort from his thrilled, angered excitement for what was about to come.

You've growled, sounding rather a bit dinky for the latter like a kitten who was livid and trying to scratch a big dog. If you were trying to be intimidating, then it was totally a failure because it only got him more charmed than he ever was before.

"You don't know that, Geralt! Because, it's not happening to you!"

He angrily shook his head, heavily marching to where you stood till he was looming before you like a lion to its prey, utterly intimidating as his gaze was smoldering your core. The dampness of your panties making you wary of Geralt's effect on you when he isn't even doing anything but be mad. It was nutty to even feel aroused from his lambasting; getting thrilled and excited by his livid state? You were probably going bonkers.

"It is!" the enraged, white haired witcher roared, peering down at you as your feet ceaselessly stepped backwards till your spine hit a wooden; storage cabinet that was a lot higher than you, he trapped you in between his presence and the cabinet. Nonetheless, still galvanized for his fit of pique.

You were spitting false assumptions to his face because you never know what forbidding and rapturous sensations you were giving him. Hence, it was like you both were sharing each other's anger and frustrations. Your breath hitched when his abrasive, thick fingers caught your hips as he thoroughly hunched down to your level. The haze in his Aurum eyes making you catch a breath as a spark of flame utterly triggered the enthusiasm.

"I can feel what you feel and it's driving me fucking insane!"

Before you even know it, his rough padded fingers brushed onto your heated skin; oblivious of his ardent fingers that has slipped under your sweater, swiftly hauling you on top of the cabinet with ease as it felt a loud thud from his abrupt, hurried gestures.

"Geralt!" you loudly shrieked when he carried you; eyes bulging out of its eye sockets, not due to fear but utmost jubilant that you were ceasing yourself from grinning back at the glaring witcher because your carnal self was loving where the crossness was heading. Yet, you still chose to kindle with the raging fire that he had in him, stirring the witcher up more than you could ever do; bringing it out of him for you to succeed.

"That's bullshit! What are we? soulmates? a freakin' soulmate AU? Feeling what I feel like our hearts are connected? Some fantasy fanfic where you magically become my destiny when I somehow teleported in your world?!"

You were now in-level with him; close enough, but he still had the leverage to look down on your face. The gaze in his eyes intensified, to the point that it was telling you how much he wanted to ravish you in so many ways.

With the way how you were smart mouthing him and the desperation in your sentences was working him up more than how those women in the brothels do. Just one word from you could wind him up in sinful ways.

Geralt tightly kept his pretty mouth shut, his gaze too penetrating as you could feel your heat twitching and moist to the point that you were soaking in ways you've never known it would despite of how you've not used your fingers in this one. Which explains how Geralt's presence was too overwhelming for a midget's heart and vagina.

Your words were obviously a conflict to how you've uncorked the lock of your legs, slightly unfastening them open till Geralt took a brooding step close to fill in the gap. The proximity rather fatal for your palpitating heart and raging fire that surrounded you both.

His fingers teased and witlessly glided along your imperfectly pouched belly, making you softly gasp from his touches as you've both shared heaving breaths. Your eyes connected with his in a way that got you wanting to hyperventilate from the choking tension you both have given to each other. You couldn't help yourself but shiver from Geralt's languid thumbs that brushed along the tubby curvatures of your waist; along the parts that has given you self-doubt because it was a body flaw that was quite difficult to erase.

Your mind wasn't thinking straight. It was in a whirlwind that no any other man could give with only his eyes staring straight into your soul. Tantalizing, wild and unchaste. The small stumble of words was enough to give Geralt the upper hand, knowing that only one touch was enough to make you feel like jello as he stood in between those unlatched legs of yours, waiting to be taken in any way that won't make you form any coherent words nor make you remember your own name.

"Stop...stop staring at me like that. You don't even like me that deep; for you to know what I'm feeling right now,"

You've avoided looking at him in the eye, your abashed state still passing through every now and then because it was what makes you, yourself. The timorous tone of your voice sounded titillating in the witcher's perspective as it stirred him up even more, wanting and urgently waiting to be free from the leather constrains that his pants locked him in.

His tender, teasing touches heightened your senses as it was the only thing you focus on as it brushed against your skin like a pencil to its paper, light and delicate. You were heedless of his other hand that moved under your sweater, his rough thumb and index finger giving you a spark of tingles when he'd lightly held your chin, ushering you to stare into his glowing amber eyes that captured your heart since the night he saved you.

The dimples of his nose caressed your plump cheeks, nuzzling the side of your face that gave such delectation of shivers through your spine; his breath was warm and impending as it fanned your ear, turning your body stiff as he gravelly whispered so closely to your ear.

"You don't get to decide nor tell me that you know what I'm feeling when you're uncertain of the verity," he apprised, taking a brief pause as you could feel the tickling tip of Geralt's nose nestling between the back of your ear, ponderously breathing in your scent that makes him feel like he was in paradise.

You could feel your heart thumping out of your chest, the hurried heartbeat of your heart ringing in your ears as it felt like molten lava pouring down on you both when Geralt seem to finally give in to your wishes.

He was a man, an amorous one, indeed. Hence, a tiny woman whom he was smitten with? Begging for a nooky? Well, why would he even be too obstinate to reject such bliss?

Your eyes immediately fluttered closed, teeth biting the insides of your cheeks as you were utterly thrilled. The voices who had been whispering inside your head has died down from the moment you both have shared the peeve out of the boiling kettle. Breathing turned erratic, thoughts quickly moving down south as Geralt heavily breathed against your ear.

You knew you were done for when he'd fondled with the hem of your sweater; those thick, sleek fingers of his, slithering higher and higher till you could never think straight; towards a place no one has ever did just yet and you were gladly letting him explore you in places you have never been touched.

His name clouded inside your head like a bell ringing from a church. Geralt's comforting warmth seething through your senses as you've felt him plant one soft kiss on the back of your ear, igniting a sensual whimper out of you that got him heavily breathing. The witcher's mind pooling with debauched thoughts for you.

And so, he let the palpable sensations control him for once; maybe not once, if he was given the chance again, letting his emotions get the best of him as he finally let go and like a warning, he rasped; "---you are asking a lot from me that not any other person could seek for a witcher,"

"---Yet, here I am; standing before you, succumbing to your wishes and trying to think of ways to help you overcome your struggles despite of knowing the repercussions, midget."

Based on how he'd let his gorgeous head fall in between the crevice of your neck, tempestuously giving your skin starved, open mouth kisses; those adorable fangs you've adored having its way as it was giving your neck a delicate bite every once in a while, you knew you were in for a delightful night.

The Djinny-Djinn-Djinn would surely be worth it.

Warm water pooled just below the lower parts of your bodies. Bare bodies submerged beneath till it stopped before your chests. Awning whatever it is that was needed to be sheltered. The abrupt reserved demeanor dawning on you every now and then when you were reminded why you've acted the way you were before, like a desperate animal that was needed breeding. But, the pain that stung in your chest was enough reminder that it was a needed reason for Geralt to just do it.

You have covertly imagined how Geralt would be crafted. Heedful to be expecting a brobdingnagian man molded like one of Michael Angelo's fine pieces or a painting made by Vincent Vann Gogh; utterly a prepossessing sight which needed to be reminded for yourself that you still needed to breathe.

Geralt of Rivia's birthday suit could wholly take a woman or man's breath away; you were gawking and he'd caught your sly peepers, gaping at the lofty man who was undressing while you sat in the end of the tub has got him humming in interest.

The vision of himself who was stripping his clothes off brought you in hell and also in heaven. He had his back turned away as he peeled his black tunic off him in one go; the gesture sucking all of your breath in your lungs, giving you a harsh whiplash when you've seen his wide shoulders and his sinewy upper body in the flesh, your heat pulsing with just the image of the witcher who was shedding his clothes off in idle; the zeal growing much more impatient as minutes pass by.

You were going to get wrecked tonight.

Your faint clearing of your throat resonated in the room when you've seen his fingers move through the front of his pantaloons, never wanting to snap your head away because seeing him strip fascinates you in so many ways; marveling at the sight of his chiseled, stark naked form. Your alter ego asking God how he was perfectly imperfect with those disfigurements that has wallowed up his fiborous back.

It was a wide-reaching scar; like a Megalodon shark has sunk its teeth along his shoulders and ribs. The mark made you give him another once over before he pulled his pants down straight off, making you snap your head away due to the blush that wanted to burn your face. Your fingers itched, in a way that it was pleading for you to brush your soft fingers against the scars that obviously appeared to be painful. You couldn't help but gnaw on your lower lip because of the despairing feeling that suddenly crept up your chest from how he was thoroughly scarred, imagining what happened to the witcher when he had it.

You were weak-kneed. The batter of bath water slightly swaying you when he'd finally walked in the tub. But, your shyness was simply manhandled by the witcher himself when you've heard him hum in amusement, a small grin curving his luscious lips when you seemed to be stilled from hearing him sitting beside you. Those buff arms on either side as you could feel his ardent gaze on you, forbearing your abrupt timidness that you were slowly trying to process the idea that he was bathing together with you, thoroughly stark naked as you were also the same way. 

Geralt was silently hoping you weren't thinking about leaving him alone after all of that, bearing with his raging boner has been quite a torture.

It took minutes after before he literally hauled you over his thick, slightly unlatched, brawny legs. You were tormenting him in ways he could never imagine as his hardened girth twitched under the warm water. There was a bashful squeal that erupted out of you when you were manhandled by the strong witcher, sitting you in front of him as you were greeted with his hirsute chest that gave your cunt a thump. He was also welcomed by your perky, right-sized breasts and a glowing cicatrix with the image of his medallion that rested in between the valley of your chest; while his, shone beneath the moonlight seeping through the opened windows.

Your diffident self was immediately forgotten with just one touch of Geralt's fingers brushing over your mark. The scorching heat now seemed to be blistering with one thing in both of your minds.

Coition.

"Thought you had other ways to help me?" you skittishly questioned in between torrid, passionate kisses you were sharing with him. Those calloused fingers of his rested and raked behind your nape, eager fingers slipping through your locks as yours fell on his thatch of hair on his prominent, wide chest; tenderly caressing over the medallion he wore.

Only a low, hoarse and short grunt was said. The way his mouth moved and brushed along the soft pillows of your lips was utterly enticing, perfectly molding against yours in a fervid way. His warm, febrile tongue slipping inside your mouth of its own volition; making you catch your breath as he'd lapped your stilled tongue. His vigor seeming to be over the top as you tried leveling with his fervor as well.

His torrid kisses was enough to make you forget your own name. What more if he was finally pummeling inside of you?

"I do." Geralt gruffly murmured, his succulent lips trailing from your side of your lips before you've took his face in between your palms, urging his vermillion to give you more passionate kisses that you were greedy for.

He'd willingly gave you another, his lips falling in between yours as you've given him another scalding smooch that unconsciously made you mewl when you've felt the tip of his tongue brushing against your lips and teeth. An unconscious nibble of his lower lip got the witcher growling beneath his chest, his other hand tightening around your hip while the one raking behind your hair, pushing your face further to his. Those simple touches making you struggle for breath; momentarily breaking away to look into those diluted, darkened amber eyes.

"Doesn't seem like it, Rivia. You're falling for the bard's suggestion," you grinned like a Cheshire cat, heaving breaths as you sat on his lap. Your forehead delicately falling on his temple when you've licked your swollen vermillion from all the bites it took.

His hot breath fanned your lips, nails tenderly scratching along the skin of your nape as he ceased his ministrations to admire the small, naked woman in his arms. He never imagined for this to happen so quick; like it was even meant to be because of how right it felt. Geralt was sure you'd be all faint-hearted once the effects of your scar dies down; if it ever would. Then, you were back with your abashed self; entirely blushing to even realize that he had finally bed you all night.

As long as you could remember everything. He was alright.

Your heart was palpitating; feeling overwrought for the words that wants to be frankly said. You beseeched, "I also thought---you...you didn't want me?---"

You've fidgeted with the medallion that rested upon his chest, his hand on your hips leaving to take your chin to cease you from saying anything further as he slightly moved his face away from yours. His features soft and understanding, "I didn't say that. Never. " pause. "---you are certainly unaware of how much I want you, midget. Too much that it's frightening and utmost perilous,"

Those lips of his that you've been kissing simply lifted into a small beam, making your heart flutter and feel ways that you could never fathom. You carry a torch for those scars that laid upon his face. Some were miniscule, difficult to notice unless you were staring up close and some were deep that probably held some menacing experiences.

Your delicate fingers glided down the pockmark he had that rested on the side of his ribs. The wonders in your head being filled by the experience your hand can get. Geralt let you, his scars never fazing him nor you as well. Just a touch for your curiosity to be quenched.

You've heard him inhale a deep breath, the simple action making his chest vibrate beneath your fingers as another hum slipped past through. Both hands grabbed onto your hip, ushering you closer to him in a proximity that weakened your legs. His hardened cock; feeling it veiny, protruding and thick, resting in between your damp folds that made your breath hitch as you've finally felt how he was gifted within his pantaloons.

Hence, it made you bite the insides of your cheeks. A question inside your mind as to how it would fit inside your damn vagina.

Geralt noticed you stuck in a daydream that he ought to withdraw yourself from, you've felt his breath glazing along your collarbone, languidly puckering his pillowy lips along your skin with every pass of his breath. The honeyed sound that leaves his lips whenever he pecked, sending jolts of heat up your spine as he took his wondrous time to worship the body you somehow have been insecure about.

He knew your low self-esteem; probably even have his own issues as well so that was why he could understand. If he would focus on how you've tried covering yourself up when he firstly sat in the tub, those eyes of yours demanding for him to not be ashamed of what sat in front of him. Geralt instantly knew and the white haired witcher planned to glorify all night, if you'd let him.

"That scent. Hmm. Your tangy scent makes me forget of what and who I really am," the latter roughly whispered, his lips on your skin; savoring your salty, sugary and rich taste against his tongue as he brushed his lips through the depths of your chest, ending in that glowing Cicatrix that made you audibly gasp before his sweet lips.

"Geralt---" you salaciously and softly whimpered, his name sounding raunchy when you did so. Irritable pain punctured through the symbol, like a spear being stabbed through your chest for a hundred times with no explanations why it was making you suffer like this, "The pain---It's not helping---It's just turning worse---I can't take it anymore,"

As the pain tripled, Geralt halted his smooth kisses that he'd wanted to give on the mount of your perky breasts. Your eyes demanding for him to satiate each other's cravings, aggressively, passionately or whatever could quench the lust. You were begging.

"Take me," you've raised your hands and grabbed onto the side of his pretty, white head. Peepers dazed and overflowing with obscurity, "---Claim me. Over and over, I don't care. Just take the heat and pain away,"

Geralt of Rivia was no angel nor any knight that honored the dignity of one deprived woman. He was a hunger-stricken man who yearned for all of what you could offer and if he had the chance to honor your chastity to be corrupted by the witcher himself; he wholeheartedly would.

That was what he would just do. Corrupt you in so many ways till his hunger would be sated. But, he doubted it would be slaked.

From the moment you were in pain and also pleading to be ravished, it didn't take him two darn seconds to continue his onslaught on peppering your breasts with searing kisses that gave you a shiver, his wet tongue hiking down a trail around your areolas before taking your nub in his god-forsaken mouth, suckling on your nipples like a starving man.

"U-Ugh, shit." you've quietly moaned in the back of your throat as you’ve taken a sharp intake of breath, utterly lewd for anyone to hear as you held onto Geralt's wide, muscular shoulders; giving them a gentle squeeze while your eyes fluttered in exstacy. The image of him who suckled your teat was utmost impure for your once chastised thoughts.

A moaning mess was what you've become, the slight hitches of your mouth whenever he'd licked your nub after his rough suckling made his stone hard girth twitch beneath you. One shift of your hips was enough for the witcher to be grumbling a grunt from the action that has made his cock feel your moistened heat which started to grind onto him mindlessly.

"Geralt," you've whined in the back of your throat as your hips moved in its own accord, his thick girth that rested in between your cunt being rubbed by its own and you were stroking in a way that could get the little nub finding the release it wanted.

He was sucking through your neck, making you whimper as his thick, calloused fingers went straight to knead at your teat that needed attention, his hands seeming to be larger than your breasts but he certainly didn't mind as he was loving the feeling of them that rested beneath his palms. Geralt lowly grunted beneath your ear, sucking on a spot that got you sighing as another lewd plaint slipped between your lips, mouth slightly opening. The coil starting to build up in between your heat.

His fingers ceased you from continuing so, making you whine in complaint as you were already feeling an orgasm approaching. Though, he may want you gushing around his girth and not through bathwater or humping him in the middle of the tub.

The hunk of a witcher passionately kissed you one more time, fervently devouring your lips like he would chump them for his sate. You weakly moaned in between his assaulting lips, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you feel euphoria surround yourselves by whatever natural deed that was happening from the both of you. 

He grabbed onto the base of his reddened, swollen cock; lining the bulbous head on your seeping entrance. The water from the bath and your position would probably help you for your first time. Geralt went on in kissing you, never breaking apart as he'd dragged his leaking tip to your wet mound and throbbing clit, flicking his tongue inside of your mouth as he'd lowly hummed out of his chest, vibrating your breasts as it was closely rested together with his, sending ripples through your soul.

His girth pressed along the insides of your heated cunt before ceasing on your entrance, it took only one tight grope of Geralt's hair for him to deeply groan, letting him take control and delve inside, his size ginormous filling every depth and fissure that ignited a kittenish moan which certainly made him whimper once he was abnormally tightly snuggled inside.

Geralt felt like he was over the moon; your grip bringing himself into a delirium that made his mind shake, choking in his own breath when all he could ever think of was you, alone. Y/N. His midget. The way your mouth tasted. Your warmth. A solace that only you could give. More, he wanted and more of you he would take.

You hold him like a vice; your mound choking his girth from how delightful you felt around him. The idea of being sexually connected with Geralt in this way was totally a different feeling, bringing you in rhapsodies of pleasure that you didn't know existed in your life.

He was fully sheathed inside before you even know it. Too distracted by his kisses that you don't feel any ache from being filled to the brim; expecting the unexpected from that experience. His hardened cock that has slithered inside you felt uncomfortable at first, though it seemed to have no problem with slipping in because you were too aroused and wet. Good. Geralt didn't want you feeling anymore pain and only hoped for your pleasure.

You've took your time to adjust, wiggling your hips every now and then; making you slightly wince because it had a pinch of ache when you tried to move. So much for feeling no pain. Your squirming got the witcher humming in displeasure; speechless and observant of what you were feeling. Geralt patiently waited despite of the howling feeling inside his chest; wanting nothing but to begin his corrupting, yet he respected your adjustments. Both of you were throbbing in each other's hold, before you've shakily got on your position, firmly on your knees, hands on either side of his shoulders as he was intensely staring into your eyes; all darkened, piercing and libidinous like a hawk while he waited for your next move.

Your hips got the best of you, wantonly stroking in a way that made the both of you whimper in sheer gratification for trying to get comfortable with the way he fits inside of you. The way you'd slowly lift yourself up before tormentingly coming back down, his jutting veins that rubbed you in the right way as your mouth went ajar when his length and size stretched you in pure exaltation.

Geralt's focal point was on you and your mound that choked and clasped around him, intently eyeing how your face contorted in such rapture that got him adoring the coltish mewl that emitted out of you, the way you've concentrated at the blurry image of his meaty girth that has been swallowed by your pulsing heat, he knew he would beg for another round.

Your wanton pace was torturing him; more so than hunting a beast in the continent that was difficult to find. He hoarsely groaned in the back of his throat, doing his very best to not turn you around and have his way with you. You bit your lip out of loving how he filled you to the rim, uttering out another weak, sensual moan that got the witcher feeling the pining rather agonizing while he silently watched you take your time.

But, he couldn't take it anymore. He was close to sputtering out profanities from how it was growing more intolerable as minutes go by.

"Fuck." he suddenly spat, sounding like a throaty whimper as you languidly sunk back into his twitching girth for a couple more times, his amber eyes blazing with the need to brutally ravish.

"---You are planning to give me an early death,"

Which got the witcher abruptly grabbing onto your waist, pulling himself out of you as you were suddenly turned around in the bath, your back hitting the edge of the tub as you loudly shrieked, whining for the lack of being filled thereof and also for the slight pain that his prompt actions got you.

"Well, that...that hurt." you honestly whined at the witcher, curious peepers gazing up at him as he moved in front of you, his fingers taking in your knees as he spread them widely apart. The water splurging around you as he'd move, seemingly fascinating to see how largely built his body was, before feeling his robust fingers on your waist, pulling you closer to his body; your back slightly slanted before gasping when he'd fervently entered, starting to consume you again and again.

"N-Nevermind. The pain--Ugh, probably's---Ugh, fuck! Geralt!---worth it," have been coyly moaned out loud, your face scrunched out in utter ecstacy as Geralt began to avidly pummel inside you, his girth violently ravishing your soaking mound with sharp thrusts of his hips.

His body was making you feel tiny compare to his gargantuan built. The way he situated himself above you, a hand tightly clasped onto your pinguid hip while the other rested on your side, his sweaty and earthy scent choking you as he drove you instantly to heaven.

The rousing sounds of his low grunts and hushed whimpers was enough to take you on edge. You've never...ever can tell how it was music to your ears as it also does the same to Geralt, your moans and mewls were bringing him to utopia, his heavy weight thoroughly crushing your bones apart no matter how he was helping himself up.

You didn't know you had a kink where you've wanted his body crushing you down; apparently, it was a new fact that you knew would instigate the fire and excitement. A size kink, then.

He went on with his ceaseless, wild, hammering of his girth. Your arms closely embracing him tight in a way that tells him you didn't want to let go; only wanting him to surround you in his warmth forever. Your palms gliding down his wide back till you've brushed your fingers along his own scar that you've handled oh-so-delicately, urging Geralt to utter a lewd audible grunt. He was congenial to your mushy touches; new to the gentleness he was receiving rather than ruthless force.

Thusly, it was entirely spiffing as it came with the freedom of impaling you till you were thrashing against his arms.

Your orgasm was quickly building up as you clenched around him, feeling his lips giving your neck wet, open mouthed kisses as he deeply whimpered. All-consuming changing his strokes as he pummeled yet again, holding onto your legs to surround himself better as he thrust brutishly, hitting a spot that loudly made you gasp, curving your spine as your breasts brushed against his fleecy chest, his medallion seeming to be in contrast to the heat that your mark has been giving.

This was what the voices inside your head wanted. The question is, why? For what reason?

"Geralt!" Your mouth was scrunched in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed together in a frenzy as you gripped onto Geralt's hair a little more tighter than you intended to, earning a low murmur of your nickname as he deathlessly shove and shove his hips, reaching you both in a place that'll give you what you needed and wanted.

A mind-wrecking orgasm.

One last drive of his hips, hitting the spot that uncoiled the havoc burning down below. You've seen the stars, maybe even the whole universe as you've obscenely moaned out with your mouth ajar, your orgasm making your eyes roll at the back of your head as you shuddered against his hold. Though, Geralt didn't stop there when you've continued to milk him whole. The swashing of bath water resonating the whole room and your amatory whimpers of delight came with his as he tries to reach his peak.

His thrusts turned sloppy and you knew he was close to coming. Your body was writhing against his, your cunt utterly sensitive as he nailed you over and over with his mouth-watering girth. Your body squirmed below him, moaning his name like a chant as it was the only word you could ever form.

You could feel another burst of bliss that spread through you as Geralt took one last sloppy thrust to your mound, lately realizing that he had slipped a hand between you both, urging you into another orgasm as he flicked and rubbed your clit; your second orgasm letting you emit a rather loud, noisy moan that would get any porn star shunning away because of how sensuous it sounded.

That last moan really got the witcher spewing out his load inside of you, also sending a witless guttural grunt when he came after you, ceasing once he rode out the orgasm with several sloppy thrusts before you've feebly and shakily reach out to grab onto the side of his sweaty and wet face as he slowly came to a stop, ushering him to look at you.

You've felt his come spread through you, summery and utterly pleasurable for the glow of your Cicatrix to be twinkling against the candle light. You were trying to catch your breath as Geralt also does to do so.

Your half-lidded eyes met his still diluted ones, the glow inside of it thoroughly comforting to your debauched form. The afterglow of sex making you feel spent but slightly quelled from your carnal gluttony.

You could feel his breathing turn even in less than a minute; the vulgar act washing away from how quick he seemed to got a hold of himself as your fingers brush against his temples, delicately wiping away the drop of sweat with your finger as the simple gesture was enough to make Geralt lean onto your touch.

He'd slightly turned his head, his nose nuzzling against your cheeks as this newfangled closeness was making him feel relaxed than he can ever get; having such a type of blessed peace that he may never imagine it to be, "Don’t worry," he huskily reassured, his thick fingers unclasping the hold he had on your waist, leaving a slight bruise that you obviously didn't mind.

You've heard the water splurge, his fingers lightly grasping your chin, turning you to look into his earnest eyes that was filled with sudden pique within it, "I'm---" his whole explanation was quickly cut off with a coaxing, soft tone of yours; doleful of what he wanted say. 

"Shhh. I-I know,"

A breathless, depleted midget laid beneath the witcher. His soft cock still inside your sensitive mound but paid no heed as you warmed him up. His face etched of bliss, though it appeared emotionless. Well, what man would be glum when he had a lay?

Geralt contemplated whether or not to pull out of you as he'd raked your naked body that stowed beneath him, those divine looking bites that rested upon your neck and even on your chest when he'd worship your body that no one ever had. Even so, he wasn't satisfied. Well, when did the witcher even been?

"Hmm." he fascinatingly hummed, eyes burning your skin as you watched him admire your midget of a body that he somehow find utterly exquisite. 

His enthralling amber landed on yours, his eyes darkening as it was keen for more. More he wanted to take and have because of the ravenous hunger utterly palpable. The Cicatrix that was engraved on the valley of your breast still gleaming beneath the candle light; his impassioned self seeming to be shared with you as the cravings were still there, strong and unwavering.

"I may need you one more time, midget." he roughly admitted, the tine of his nose brushing against yours in a sweet caress.

The latter has his eyes fluttered closed as he sighed, his salmon colored lips dangerously close to your swollen ones as he continued to rasp, "---or maybe all night," he leaned in close to leave a soft peck to your lips that he couldn't get enough with. 

"---and the weeks after,"

He consumed your lips once again, zealously keeping the sweltering heat going as he breathlessly snogged with you. Those needy fingers of his snaking to grip along the side of your neck; his kisses growing impatient and demanding as the sound of your lips smacking together was the only thing running in your mind, the urgency quickly building up again like it never even left.

The way he began to torridly kiss you felt like you were struggling to breath. His desire in having you again feverishly lighting you up as you've instantaneously break the kiss, panting before him as he chased for your lips before you had a finger laid between them, your face in flames while you got flustered, those rough fingers ceasing from kneading your taut breast on his other hand, "Maybe---maybe, a bed is nice to be ravished on? you know, with a mattress or something soft?"

You were completely flushed. Nose scrunched as you felt your heart pounding; waiting for his answer to your suggestion. Your mind was scolding you all through out as he held his silence, aware of his semi hard on that seemed to never want to leave your cunt as he tried and hinted for another nightly ravishing between you both.

Never in your life; even back in earth that you would actually get to experience sex in the making. The idea of you and another man going at it disturbing you before because you were worried they would despise your body and how you actually looked like, entirely bare. Yet, here you were, having your virginity taken by an attractive, hot mutant who slaughters beasts for a living in their dimension.

Fortunately, you were lucky in this department because of how magically you've met him and how gloriously you've been dicked down.

You wouldn't get to forget this once the effects of the Cicatrix finally comes to its halt or probably the morning after you've slept with Geralt. Your ribald suggestions for moving in a much more comfortable place while being rode off to Neverland will probably horrify you if the idea was taken into deliberation.

"I think I may have to agree, midget." Geralt gave a soft nod of understanding, intensely staring into your eyes as he has seen the same salacious look he has been giving; simmering down his worry about the thought that you weren't in the same page as he also was.

Perhaps, beasts aren't the only thing he butchers at night and in daylight.

Geralt only wanting this to be a one time opportunity? Oh, heck no. IT’S A PRANK! He never gets satisfied! LMAO JK 😂💖 FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! Please do! Heehee! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, bb’s!)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​​ @vania-marie​​ @spookypeachx​​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-starfleet​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernatural​​ @missjenniferblog​ @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @silverkitten547​​ @angelofthor​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a--1--1--3​​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​

[radiantroope]

Ruins || Pope Heyward

pairing: pope x reader

mentions: john b x reader if you squint, jj, kiara

requested: no

summary: pope forces you to come clean about your feelings and his reaction isn’t what you hoped.

warnings: angst, a swear word or two, underage drinking

word count: 2.4k+

author’s note: don’t ask where this came from, i was in an angsty mood. there’s a lil fluff but it’s mostly angst. finally felt the urge to write and this was the result <3 i also haven’t edited this yet so sorry for any grammatical errors

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

Pope Heyward was your best friend in the whole world. Sure, you had Kiara, JJ, and John B — but Pope was your person. He was a breath of fresh air when you broke the surface of the ocean’s waves. He was a cold glass of water on a hot Summer's day. He was your anchor when you felt like the weight of growing up was going to crush you.

The two of you had grown up together thanks to the close friendship of your mothers. You realized your feelings for him ran deeper when you were thirteen. 

It had been a day of surfing for the Pogues. Your board glided through the water effortlessly and you tried out some tricks you'd learned over the years. Though, the end of your board tipped a little too far and you were sent tumbling into the water. Everyone had laughed seeing you wipe out, until you didn't immediately resurface.

"Y/N!" Pope screamed, only seeing your board floating on the water.

The Pogues laid on their boards and paddled as quick as they could towards the lonesome object in the water. You would've thought Pope was in the Olympics with how quickly he moved through the saltwater, as if his life depended on it. Just as he reached the board, you broke the surface, desperately gasping for air.

"Y/N," Pope breathed, sliding off his board and helping you back into your own. The sea water momentarily blinded you and you were slapping the water trying to find it. "Breathe, you're okay," he muttered as you straddled your board and coughed harshly.

Once you had finally caught your breath and your coughing had subsided, you looked at your best friend. He was wading the water with one hand on your board, the other rubbing over your back in a soothing fashion. The utter fear in his eyes made your breath hitch as he stared up at you.

"You scared the hell out of me," Pope said through a small laugh but the concerned look never left his face. His hand lingered on your lower back and made goosebumps rise on your skin. He removed it only to grab your hand and squeeze it gently.

You smiled softly at him and returned the squeeze, whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm okay."

Pope gave you a small smile and brought your hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss on the top of it. After that, everyone decided to call it a day. You're incident had given them all a scare and they weren't going to risk something happening again.

That was three years ago. You'd gone three years harboring these feelings for your best friend that you couldn't shake. John B and JJ were no strangers to your feelings. They saw the way you looked at Pope, longing and desperate. A look that was never returned — instead given to the other girl of the group.

That's where you were now, sitting on the edge of the HMS Pogue as John B drove it through the marsh. The sun had started to set and you all decided to head back for the Chateau for some much needed dinner. You'd managed to scrounge up some money picking up shifts with Heyward and decided to order pizza.

Your sunglasses were pulled down over your eyes and you couldn't tear them away from the scene in front of you. Pope and Kiara sat at the back of the boat, shoulder to shoulder. The stunning brunette girl kept giggling at whatever Pope said, playfully slapping at his chest. Pope's eyes were fixated on her, a shining smile adorning his face that grew wider each time Kiara laughed.

Your jaw was set tight — lips pursed. Your eyes tore away from them when you felt a kick against your foot. JJ was laid out on the deck, leaning his weight on his elbow. He'd been watching you glare daggers into the other two for the last ten minutes.

"You okay?" JJ's voice wasn't audible, he simply mouthed the words. He knew the answer but he was hoping you wouldn’t lie to him for once.

The nod you sent him caused him to give you a look that said, I know that's not true. You looked away, instead watching as the Chateau came into view. You stood and moved to other side of the small boat to tie it off.

John B got up to assist you as you watched JJ, Pope and Kiara exit the boat. The curly haired girl shrieked as Pope hoisted her in the air and went running up the dock with her over his shoulder. You felt your chest tighten and looked down to focus on the knot your shaking hands attempted to tie.

"Y/N, maybe you should tell him," John B suggested, knowing the others were far enough away they wouldn't hear him. He was the only one you’d explicitly told how you felt.

"And ruin everything? Yeah, I'd rather let heartbreak eat away at me than be humiliated when he says he doesn't feel the same way," you scoffed and grabbed your backpack off the deck.

"How do you know he doesn't?"

You were standing on the dock now, typing the number of your favorite pizza place into your phone. You looked at John B incredulously and let out a humorless laugh, "Did you completely miss what happened all day? He's practically in love with Kiara, JB. He barely said a word to me cause he was so transfixed on her. I'm not going to let my feelings complicate things within the group."

Your snappy tone and the way you walked away with your phone to your ear signaled the end of that conversation. John B's lips turned down in a frown as he watched you go. He could see the pain in your eyes and it upset him that you were so hurt. The truth was, even he didn't know if Pope reciprocated your feelings. It really did seem like that boy was putting all his eggs in Kiara's basket.

You placed the order as you made your way into the Chateau and towards John B's bedroom to change. One large supreme, one large hawaiian, and two large pepperoni and jalapeño. When you got to splurge on eating out, you did it right — even if you didn't finish it all, eating cold pizza in the morning while nursing a hangover was heavenly.

You closed John B's door and changed into a sports bra and a hoodie. You put on a fresh pair of undies and slipped your jean shorts back on. When you stayed at the Chateau, you typically slept on the pullout with Kiara, but your things were kept in the Routledge boy's room, which he didn't mind. Seeing all of his friends things everywhere made him feel like he wasn't so alone, distracting him from the fact that his father was no longer there.

Twenty minutes later you were all crowded in the living room digging into the boxes of pizza littering the coffee table. Moans of satisfaction left each of your mouths and everyone thanked you for generously splurging on the feast. You waved them all off, insisting it was no big deal. It was rare for The Pogues to ever have this opportunity unless Mr. Carrera gave you scraps at The Wreck that would've been thrown out anyway.

You'd been nursing your second beer of the night for almost an hour while JJ and John B were well into their sixth. Kiara was on her fourth and Pope had barely taken a sip of one. You don't know if it was because of the alcohol but seeing the curly haired girl across from you offer a bite of her half eaten slice of hawaiian to Pope, that without hesitation he bit into, made your blood boil. Your brow furrowed and you averted your gaze your crumb ridden paper plate.

"Pope, stop! Just let me have a bite!" you heard Kiara whine, knowing the boy was offering her a bite of his supreme but pulled it away whenever her lips got close — something he used to do with you.

You downed your beer in record time, catching the attention of a curly haired brunette boy and a shaggy haired blonde. You got up from your spot on the floor and walked into the kitchen, slamming your empty can on the counter. You grabbed a new one from the fridge and exited the Chateau without a word to anyone. You weren't usually much of a drinker so it was a bit surprising to them all.

The hammock that was gently blowing in the wind was calling your name, despite how many nights you remember being curled up under Pope's arm on it. You flopped down and cracked open your beer, staring out into the darkness around you. All you could hear was the gentle sound of moving water, crickets chirping happily in the grass and leaves brushing together in the wind.

You didn’t want to be mad at Kiara or Pope. It wasn’t their fault you had these feelings that wouldn’t go away. It’s not their fault you couldn’t build up the nerve to tell Pope how you felt or how much it bothered you that he was always all over Kiara. But when you saw them together this overwhelming sense of rage filled your body, rage you’d never before experienced. Sometimes you wished you couldn’t feel anything at all and maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Hey,” you were pulled out of your daze by Pope’s voice.

You could see him walking towards you in the dark and you tried to muster a smile. He didn’t sit himself on the hammock beside you like he normally would, instead he stood in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. You took a sip of your beer and averted your gaze to your lap, feeling scrutinized by his amber colored eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and bit the inside of your cheek as you mumbled out, “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You’ve been acting weird all day,” the sharpness of Pope’s tone caused a pit in your stomach. He was always so calm and gentle with you, despite an outburst, but now he seemed upset. “You’ve been mean to Kie all day and everyone’s noticed.”

You couldn’t stop the roll of your eyes when he mentioned the other girl. To him, it’s all about her. Your jaw set tight and you didn’t answer him. Anything that came out of your mouth in that moment was only going to make everything worse.

“You swore you’d never lie to me,” Pope stated, a desperate tone to his voice now. “That’s our golden rule. You swore.”

Memories flashed in your mind, back to when you and Pope were only eight years old.

“We have to promise, no matter what, we won’t ever lie to each other. Lies tear friendships apart and I never want that to happen to us,” Pope’s voice was so innocent but his words were so powerful. His big doe eyes stared into your own as he held his pinky out to you.

“I swear i’ll never lie to you Pope. You’re my best friend in the whole world,” you sealed it by wrapping your pinky around his own, toothy grins on display.

The founding principle of your friendship was honesty — something that transcended with the other Pogues when you befriended them. Pogues don’t lie to Pogues. But you weren’t lying, you were just protecting yourself, him and your friendship with the others. Though, something about his words sparked something in you.

“I’ve been acting weird because you’re too god damn oblivious for your own good,” you desperately tried to keep your voice calm and level. “I’ve been mean to Kie because watching you throw yourself at her is ripping me in two and you don’t even see it.”

Pope stared at you, not knowing how to react to your confession. He blinked and waited for you to continue, knowing once you started you couldn’t stop.

“I’ve tried so hard to not let my feelings interfere with our friendship but I can’t pretend anymore. I cant pretend I haven’t been in love with you for the last three years, probably more, and that I don’t wish I was the one you were cuddled up with on the boat or sharing your pizza with. Watching you fall in love with someone else is more painful than anything I’ve ever known, Pope, and you’re blind to it.”

Hot tears were now running down your cheeks. You searched your best friend’s face for any sort of reaction. He had this look in his eyes that you couldn’t read and the pit in your stomach grew. He doesn’t feel the same way.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Pope’s voice trailed off as he hugged his arms around himself tighter.

Everything came crumbling around you as you fought back the sobs in your chest. You got up from the hammock and tried to make your escape. He reached for your arm but you shrugged him off. She was giving you this look that said I’m so sorry, but you didn’t want his sympathy. It’s not his fault your feelings were one sided. You just couldn’t help but feel like you’d just ruined everything.

You burst back into the Chateau, tear stains on your cheeks and hot, fresh tears blurring your vision. You walked past the other’s who were still gathered in the living room. You tried to gather your things from John B’s room as fast as you could, shoving them into the backpack you kept in the corner.

“Hey, hey,” John B’s voice was gentle as he came up behind you.

“I told you! I told you it would ruin everything!” you wailed and fought against the boy’s grip on your shoulders.

You just wanted to leave but John B wasn’t going to let you in your current state. He pulled you back and collapsed on the floor, back against his bed as you fell into his chest between his legs. You curled into him and sobbed against his neck. Ugly, throat tearing cries left your mouth.

John B squeezed you close with one arm and the other held the back of your head. He shushed you gently and whispered empty promises that everything would be okay. He made eye contact with JJ who stood in the doorway, an uneasy look swimming in his cerulean eyes.

Deep down the three of you knew that everything was going to change.

tags: @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks @letsgofullkook @queenk00k @jjmbanks @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids

[dreamcatcherfication]

Caught in a Lie

I know this fic was meant to be angsty, but I didn’t mean for it to get this angsty.

Hello and welcome! Today’s fic is based off a request you can find here, or you can just read on and be surprised. I realized that I write most of my Cathy/Kat interactions as them fighting or being really emotional, so please ignore me reusing that dynamic. I didn’t really get to edit this, so please ignore any incoherency, I’ll try to go back soon and fix everything. I don’t have much else to say except watch out for the trigger warnings this time around and please enjoy the fic! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my nuerological processing unit is broken. 

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Blunt talk of sexual abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of assisting sexual abuse, just a lot of talk about sexual abuse

Ever since starting their show and appearing in public, the queens had become used to historians’ obsessions with them. Most wanted to know how they came back and if there would be others. A good amount were more interested in the truth of what happened during their first lives. But a few of them were intent on tearing the queens apart. Many historians were confused as to why the queens got along, and they didn’t like it. How could it make sense that the six widows of the same man would become their own family?

For almost a year now, Cathy Parr had been keeping a secret from her predecessor. It wasn’t meant to be anything notable, simply an action she was taking to ensure Kat’s safety. The same historians who picked and prodded for any piece of information they could get would come after the survivor for her knowledge. How did she get along so well with Kat when she allowed Elizabeth to be sexually abused? How did the queens think so highly of her when she was anything but perfect? Why did Kat act the way she did around the other queens?

They weren’t questions Cathy should be answering, but she also didn’t want the historians to move on and start asking Kat. So she answered the questions as vaguely as possible while also making sure Kat learned nothing about what was going on. The teen wouldn’t be able to handle it, Cathy knew, so she made her decision to keep things a secret. 

That’s how things went for a long time, and there was nothing remarkable about it. Cathy lied to Kat to keep her safe, and Kat went about living her life. The world was in a perfect balance, and each queen was living her life the best she could.

But these things were not built to last, and it was Kat who would learn that the hard way. She hadn’t been expecting it, much less prepared for it, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. It started with a message on her social media that attracted her attention. Kat should’ve known to ignore it, but she couldn’t help her curiosity as to why someone was messaging her what looked like an entire essay.

Skimming the essay, Kat missed some of the padding from the person who wrote it - a historian, Kat deduced - and skipped right to the point of their message. We’ve been talking with Katheryn Parr, Kat noticed how they used the old spelling of her name, about your past with sexual abusers. Kat’s breath hitched, but she moved forward, ignoring the pit of dread settling in her stomach. 

It seemed so implausible that you two could hold a strong relationship after her marriage with Thomas Seymour and assistance with his abuse of Queen Elizabeth. It’s even stranger her friendship with Anne Boleyn, but both of them have confirmed that the past has been resolved. Kat adjusted her grip on her phone and kept scrolling. Miss Parr has told us multiple times that you know about the questions we ask her, but you do not wish to speak with us. I don’t quite believe a woman like her, so I’m reaching out to you directly so that you, Miss Howard, are fully informed on the events going down. Katheryn Parr is claiming that you are uncomfortable speaking to us about your past, but I would like to fact check that with you Miss Howard. Please respond to me -

The message went on, but Kat had lost interest in what the historian had to say. Cathy had been talking to historians about her? Kat hadn’t heard anything from Cathy… “It’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Kat mumbled to herself, tucking her phone in her pocket. She’d go clear it up right then with Cathy, who was in the room next to hers.

Walking to Cathy’s door, Kat prepared her words. She wasn’t going to believe a historian over her friend, but she wouldn’t let herself be surprised by anything. Slowly pushing the door open, Kat peeked her head inside. Cathy was on her bed, sorting through a mess of papers. “Hello Kat,” she greeted amiably and returned to her sorting.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Kat started, making her way inside the room.

“Sure,” Cathy shrugged. She took a break in sorting her papers and looked up. “What’s the problem?”

Sitting down on the bed, Kat made eye contact with Cathy, watching her. “A historian messaged me on Instagram today.”

Cathy groaned, “That’s a tactic they haven’t tried before.”

“Yeah,” Kat muttered. “They were saying a lot of weird stuff. That you were speaking in my place during interviews and saying that I didn’t want to talk about my past. Weird, right?” Kat asked hopefully. She saw the hesitation in Cathy’s eyes and her heart dropped. “Right?”

Opening her mouth, Cathy sat silently for a couple seconds. “Kat - I.” She went silent again. “It was for your own good.” She reached her hand out, but Kat pulled back.

“What do you mean, ‘for my own good?’” Kat scrunched her nose.

Taking the hint, Cathy leaned away from Kat. “They were asking invasive questions. How could you stand being around me after… what happened in your childhood,” the writer explained.

“I was sexually abused,” Kat stated bluntly, “You can say it out loud.”

Cathy awkwardly laughed without humor. “I know, I just thought you would prefer -”

“I don’t,” Kat stood up. “Our show is about telling our stories, if I didn’t want to tell it, I wouldn’t be on stage every night. Please don’t make decisions for me Cathy.”

Looking down, Cathy sighed. “It’s for the best Kat. They weren’t nice people, they would’ve hurt you.”

“Then they would’ve hurt me,” Kat shot back defiantly. “It’s not up to you to decide whether or not I face these people. I’ve been hurt before, and I’m still here.”

Still, there was a cloudiness in Cathy’s eyes that told Kat she simply didn’t believe her. “I know you’re strong, I do Kat, but you have to understand I was only doing it to make things easier for you.”

Holding herself back from stomping her foot, Kat felt her nostrils flair. “Nothing is ever easy for me. But you know what Cathy? I learned to live with it. So don’t control my life just because you think it’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m only -” “No.” Kat turned away from Cathy. “You’ve been lying to me. I believed you over that historian, but it turns out they were right.”

Letting her eyes drop, Cathy murmured, “I wanted to help you.”

Spinning around, Kat glared at Cathy. “You help me by talking to me, not by lying to me.”

Kat waited, her eyes boring into Cathy’s skull until the other queen looked up and their eyes connected. There was hurt in Cathy’s eyes, but she was trying to hide it. Kat couldn’t find any pity in herself for her fellow queen. “I’m sorry Kat. I won’t do it again.”

“You won’t be coming anywhere near my life any time soon,” Kat spit, turning heel.

“What?” Cathy jumped out of her bed and followed Kat to the door.

Stepping into the hallway, Kat faced Cathy one last time. “You’ve been lying to me long enough. I’m not giving you the opportunity to do that again.” She was about to leave before pausing, eyes settling on Cathy’s face, growing more pale by the second. “And for the record, I would have told them it was because I trusted you.” 

With that, Kat was gone, out of the hallway and disappearing to her own room. Frozen in her doorway, Cathy’s hands slowly fell to her side. She wanted to give Kat another apology, but it wouldn’t come out of her mouth. She should’ve seen it from the start. She was just trying to help her friend. And now she had ruined everything.

Pacing in her room, Kat had to dig her fingernails in her palms in order to restrain her urge to lash out. It wasn’t common for her to get angry, but this was an exception. Kat hated being coddled, treated like a little kid. She was more than that, and she could handle herself.

Stopping her pacing, Kat’s gaze drifted to her phone, still lying on her bedside table. Approaching it, Kat picked up the dark screen and turned it on. Going back to her social media, she reread the message. It only made the rage in her chest burn brighter, a reminder that some random historian was more honest with her than one of her closest friends.

In a moment of anger, Kat pulled up a note and started furiously typing.

For years I have had to live with what people have done to be. I was sexually abused as a child and people like to avoid talking about it. They use filler words, thinking it will make me feel better. It doesn’t. It only makes you feel better. I experienced it, I lived it, and a few pretty words aren’t going to protect me.

I learned recently that people have been trying to reach out to me in order to understand my feelings on what happened. Obviously I don’t like talking about my abuse, but it’s still a reality I lived through. Historians had been blocked from reaching me by Catherine Parr, who took it upon herself to protect me.

I have been lied to for longer than I know, and it’s because of Catherine Parr. She thought that she could make decisions for me and that I would be okay with it. Out of the goodness of her heart, she betrayed my trust and completely ignored the point of our show. I tell my story every night on stage. But when someone wants to approach me personally, she believes it’s her duty to make sure I won’t get hurt. Catherine? I’ve already been hurt. You can’t do anything to change that, so stop acting like you’re allowed to be the angel who saved me from everything bad. You’re not. You’re a liar.

Everyone knows about what happened with Thomas Seymour and Elizabeth. You watched on silently as he sexually abused her. And despite all the pain that came with confronting that, Anne and I forgave you. I would think you learned that this isn’t your story to tell. You did nothing then, and you think doing something now will make up for it. It won’t, and I don’t want it to. I wanted to move on from everything, but clearly you aren’t ready.

So fine. If that’s how it’ll be, then fine. Catherine Parr, I don’t want to see you or hear from you. If any interviewer wants to talk to me, they come to me and not Catherine Parr. She holds no say in my life, and I’d like to keep it that way. Because Catherine Parr is a liar. And I’m sick of people lying to me.

Setting her phone down, Kat let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t intend on publishing the rant, but she needed to get it out. Her words were harsh and came from somewhere deep within her, but she didn’t want anyone to see them. She was going to keep playing the role of the charming girl with the bad past, not the young woman who was done with being coddled.

Collapsing onto the bed, Kat closed her eyes. She was about to let the tension leave her body when a short smacking sound caught her attention. Sitting up, Kat looked around until she spotted her phone on the floor. Picking it up, Kat went to turn it off when she noticed a small mark on the corner of her note. Posted, it read in small italics.

Hands starting to shake, Kat dropped her phone on the bed. What had she done? What had she done? The post was online, and people were going to see it. No one was meant to see it, but now it would be online forever. Even if she figured out how to delete the post, people were probably taking screenshots the second it appeared.

Curling into a ball, Kat hid her face. This was a mistake, a big, big mistake that was going to cause so many problems. If Cathy had lost her trust, then all the queens would lose trust in Kat. In one moment, Kat had managed to tear them apart unknowingly.

On cue there was a shout from the queens’ living room. “Katherine Howard, explain this right now!”

Gulping, Kat glanced down at her phone. Kat closed her eyes, and for the first time in 500 years, she prayed.

---------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thenicestnonbinary @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom @frogs-in-clogs @timetoriseabove

[thenightgazer]

The Finding of Almagest

The elder son of Sparda wants to seek solitude inside a small local library. He finds himself trapped in an insightful conversation with the librarian as they share the stories of the stars.

(A/N) : My first DMC fanfiction! Took me long enough to finally made it. English isn’t my native language, so feel free to send me private message if you find grammatical errors! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the journey of our favourite brooding devil and his friendship with a local librarian! xD

Special tags : @queenmuzz for encouraging me to finish this fic❤ @voldemortimaginarynose96 for her nonstop support 🍫 and @drusoona for bombing me with Vergil screenshots! 💜

You can read this fic on my AO3

 –

“The meeting of two personalties is like the contact of two chemical substances, if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”

-Carl Gustav Jung

For a second in eternity, Vergil could finally rest his head between the familiar smell of stack of old books.

He just finished his latest mission; a pack of Empusas attacked a local church and brutally murdered the reverend and most of the nuns. 

When Dante received the call, he casually laughed and said, ‘That sounds like a wicked slasher horror movie!’. Nonetheless, the owner of Devil May Cry still sent Vergil to do the mundane mission, much to his annoyance. The church paid him and that’s good enough. Vergil never really agreed about demon hunting business since the brothers came back from Underworld, mainly because his brother’s incapability of running the business neatly but that’s the only best thing they could do to make a living— a normal one.

Normal life, huh?

The words already lost its meaning since he was attacked in the graveyard when he was eight years old.

But now he has a second chance— a family to reunite. For that reason, Vergil decided to throw away his pride and stubbornness to make things right. In order to do that, first, no more raising or opening something leading to Hell for the sake of power.

Second, catching up his long-lost time to bond with his son, Nero. 

For the love of Sparda, the hybrid demon tries his best to be a proper, competent father of a twenty-something grown man with anger and abandonment issues, which is challenging as much as it’s…. unbelievably exhausting. Not that he hated their bonding moments. It just sometimes confuses Vergil, this humanity contexts. He still has a lot to learn and catch up.

Third, try his best to make a normal life.

Which is one of the reasons why he ended up in this small, rustic local library in the town.

If anything about living as a human that could make Vergil at least enjoy his humanity, that would be a book to read. He is still and always an avid reader, even though there are not much books in the Underworld or Mundus curse was powerful enough to made him senseless about anything but The Prince of Darkness orders.

Before the memories of his time as Nelo Angelo stings his head again, he chooses to focus on his reading.

There is one larger library in the town, but this library suits him best. It doesn’t have too many visitors, much to Vergil’s benefit because he appreciates seclusion. He likes this place particularly because the library has rare collections. Perhaps this place is like a heaven on Earth for Vergil, now as he reads a rare edition of Paradise Lost. 

His mother was the one who introduced him to literature, but Vergil’s love for reading bloomed since he meet the Redgrave City librarian— the same man who gave him William Blake’s anthology, which is now Nero’s possession. 

A subtle smirk curves in Vergil lips, remembering how angry and nervous his son when Vergil came back from Hell and Nero wanted to return the book. But Vergil declined, said that it belongs to Nero now and to take care of it with honour. Instead of thanking his father, the boy challenged him for another duel. 

You said you won’t lose next time, old man, Nero had said to him. 

And of course, that time, Vergil won. Which lead to another demand of challenges from his wayward son.

“Cuppa?”

The sound of a woman distracted Vergil.

Another best feature from this library; they serve free-refill coffee. The best coffee Vergil ever tasted since his return from Hell. The fact that the library doesn’t often have visitors might be the reason why they willingly serve free drinks to attract more visitors.

“Thank you,” Vergil said as the woman refills Vergil’s cup.

“You’re welcome,” the woman replies in polite smile.

She always has that kind of smile. Vergil noticed it since his first visit. Always speaks in a-matter-of-fact tone with pleasant but business-only smile. She almost never speak unless necessary. 

Dante had brought him fake ID and licenses from Morrison. Vergil isn’t obnoxious enough to not aware about human ways of bureucracy. His time as V taught him a little too much about it. It just hard for him to believe that Dante made him an obviously fake driving license while he possessed the Yamato, which is more convenient than any vehicles.

“At least,” Dante mocked. “It’s way better than your previous not-so-clever alias.”

Which resulted in another jabbing and broken properties.

What a way to show brotherly love.

Luckily, the younger twin was considerate enough to keep Vergil’s original name at those ID cards, even though it irritates Vergil because the main trouble of having an ID is that your identity would easily revealed. Vergil doesn’t need anyone knows that he’s son of Sparda. That legacy always left him more troubles.

So when the librarian lady asked his name to register his library member three months ago, Vergil, much to his dismay, showed her his fake citizen ID.

“Vergil?” she repeated his name.

“Correct.”

She looked at him suspiciously, “Just Vergil?”

“Yes.” He sensed that the librarian didn’t believe him. He would’ve just go and never return if she declined him, but she just shrugged and wrote his name in her notebook.

“Please wait for a moment,” she smiled while walking to back office.

Three minutes later she brought him his library ID card.

“Two weeks for returning the books. No more than three books to borrow for a week. Rare collections are for read here only. We sell secondhand books too— right there before the reading corners,” she pointed to the bookshelves which has ‘FOR SALE’ sign. “Please contact me if you need some help for searching books or recommendation.”

She handed him his ID card which Vergil accepted.

“Happy reading, Mr Publius Vergilius Maro.”

Not that old joke again, he lamented his parent’s choice of name. How dare this woman-!

“Pardon my rudeness,” she apologized in furtive manner. “The name was just the first thing popped into my head when I heard your name. I mean no offense at all, sir.”

Vergil thought probably she was just one of those people who wants to make some meaningless conversation. Or she was just always like that to new customer to break the ice. But in truth, he was intrigued by her audacity to tell him a joke. He, Vergil, whose entire demeanour screams stay back or die. Moreover, she still able to stayed calm and gave him apologizing smile. But her nervous fingers spoke different meaning, like it begged him to end her misery of being intimidated by his infamous deadly glare.

“None had taken,” he finally said, remembered to show some politeness. A devil he might be, but he’s a man with courtesy. “Thank you for your assistance, Librarian.”

She nodded politely and gave him final apologizing smile before she returned to her work and Vergil walked to his reading corner.

The two has never really spoken since then. Just her offer of a cup of coffee and him thanking her. He sometimes observes her talking with another customers, giving some book recommendations to them, and he think her choices of book are quite impressive. It took him almost three months to realized that this woman is unbelievably brilliant. Her love of books is tangible, as shown when she cleans the bookshelves, organizing books, the way she hands a book to a customer and her anger when her co-worker unintentionally scratched the book.

Somehow it reminded him with the Redgrave librarian. The man who taught him to cherish the splendor of the books.

He turns his attention to a passage from Paradise Lost :

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…

Such a truth spoken by Satan.

The deeper Vergil digs inside his head, the more he doesn’t want to know what happened in the depth of his memories. His familiars might had gone, but it doesn’t mean he is unbothered with his own dark side of his mind. Ever since his first slumber in Devil May Cry after his arrival from the Underworld, he only slept for no more than a half an hour. His sleep was dreamless, followed with the instinct to stay awake like he used to be in the Underworld. He ended up restless for the rest of the night. Sometimes he would read Dante’s little collection of books, anything which doesn’t include inappropriate contents. He just want to distract his unsettling memories, mostly about his regrets and unanswered questions from the past.

He didn’t know where was that librarian after demons attacked Sparda Manor. Had he survived? He wouldn’t know for sure. He didn’t have time to think about it that time. He needed to save his mother and brother, but instead he was left—

Stop, he urges himself. Mother tried to save me too.

Vergil doesn’t even realized he gripped his book a bit too hard.

Maybe I need something lighter to read.

He close the book and stand up to return the book to its shelf. He never moved too far from his favourite reading corner for an introverted man like him; the farthest corner between rare collection bookshelves. Here he could read in peace, musing without any interferences except the librarian’s offer of coffee, which he eventually get used to.

“Hello again, Mr Vergil,”

There she is, standing on the ladder and organizing books. She barely sees Vergil’s figure, but it’s easy for her to recognize the presence of the only rare collection’s visitor, who is none other than Vergil himself. She knows other visitors would leave this corner immediately because of Vergil’s intimidating demeanor. None of them would stay to read or just searching for book.

Vergil returns the book to its place. His icy eyes sneakily lingers to the figure of the librarian. She looks busy storing the books, humming a song which Vergil doesn’t recognize.

“Done with Milton already?” she asks.

How did she know?

“You looked rather enjoy it before I offered you to refill your cup,” she continues. “It makes me feel guilty, as if my presence ruined your mood.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Vergil turns his sight to another row of bookshelf. And more importantly, why doesn’t she just shut her mouth?

She finishes her organizing and starts to climb down from the stair. Vergil could not help but admiring the way she seems pleased with her job. She cleans her hand with a napkin, folding it and put it back inside the pocket of her brown midi skirt. She suddenly turns her attention to Vergil, who is quickly pulling away his gaze, pretending to be busy searching for book.

“May I give you some recommendations?” she offers with careful and awkward gesture, like she’s afraid she would disturb the menacing man in front of her.

Despite his annoyance of her presence, he remembers her passion of books. He noted her excellent choices of book. She seems reliable enough. Maybe she really could help.

“At the current given moment, I prefer to read something lighter, but enough to give me an insight.” Vergil answers dismissively. “Not necessarily fiction, actually.”

A little challenge to show your competency.

The librarian goes silent for a moment. Her eyes wander to the bookshelves. There, Vergil silently notice, that the librarian always has that kind of eyes; a pair of beautiful brown eyes, but a blank, void stare.

The truth? Her eyes slightly bothers him. Every humans, even demons, always has something to tell from their eyes. But the ones that librarian possess doesn’t tell him even a thing.

“Right!” she exclaims, pointing at a book in the row next to Vergil. “How much do you know about astronomy?”

“Beg your pardon?” The hybrid couldn’t believe what he just heard as he turns around to face the librarian.

“Astronomy. A branch of science that studies celestial—“

“I am fully aware of what astronomy is,” Vergil declares. “All of those books, why do you choose astronomy?”

“Because,” she takes the book she pointed before. “You seem to enjoy ancient texts. Your top borrowed books were all classics. You see, we don’t have many visitors and it’s noticeable that you’re the only person who consistently lingers at this section. It’s not hard to tell that you fancy this section the most. I thought classics and ancient knowledges would suit you the best. Therefore…” she shows him the book she recommended. “You might like Almagest.”

Almagest. Vergil remembers the copy of that book in Sparda’s private room in the Manor. He didn’t really paid attention to that book, although he did actually pick up that book and observe it delinquently rather than taking it seriously. He was still a child after all. He didn’t even think about reading it until now.

He receives the hardcover book from the librarian’s hands and observes the book. His fingers flip the pages carefully.

“Almagest is one of the most influential text all the time. The very source of ancient Greek astronomy that was accepted for more than 1000 years and becomes one of the basis of modern astronomy. Unfortunately, we don’t have the original version of Almagest… but the one you read now contains both the original and translated texts. You won’t find any difficulty to read it, just in case you’re not familiar with ancient Greek. The book also contains star catalog. Ptolemy’s catalog contains about 1022 stars, including the stars positions arranged into 48 constellations. The Ptolemaic constellation… as we know it in the present. Andromeda, Ursa Major, Sagittarius…” the librarian explains while observing Vergil’s behaviour cautiously, looking for some approving signal from the hybrid. “A rather quite insightful reading, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Vergil sternly states. His eyes still fixates to the book, studying the graphs and tables, admiring the beauty of ancient Greek text and the planetary model. “Although, indeed, quite like a page-turner for stargazer.“

“I believe that astronomy is more than mere stargazing,” the librarian continues. Her tone is almost enthusiastic. “It is concerned with the formation and development of the universe itself. The universe always expanding, getting further from us while we are still standing here, wondering what happened outside the Earth…”

Vergil glances at her. The librarian’s eyes scanning through the books, but she seems out of the place. Caught in her own muse. The fusion of the magnificence of bookshelves and the librarian’s state of wonder somehow makes her look ethereal.

She looked pale, mysterious—like a lily, drowned, under water.

“There is Demon World,” Vergil sighs, closing the book in satisfied gesture. “The one human still trying to figure out in which system this world could be.”

“Oh, I wonder that too!” she quickly agrees. “They published a lot of researches about that. None of them actually make sense, more like a pseudo-science—Oh, pardon my twaddles! Are you going to borrow that book or should I recommend another one?”

Vergil shake his head, “This will do. Thank you for your recommendation.”

The librarian sighs in relief, “Anytime, Mr Vergil. I shall continue my work then.”

There it is again. The blank stare. The unsettling mix of pretty smile and void eyes. Something is off, but what? What does it means? She is nothing but a mere human. Why am I troubled for something nonsensical like the voidness of her eyes?

Yet he knows that if she turns her back and leaving him, he would never get his answer.

“On second thought, Librarian.”

The librarian tilts her head, “You changed your mind already?”

“On the contrary. I need some enlightment about Almagest and your knowledges regarding astronomy,” Such a buffoon, Vergil Sparda. “I believe your help will suffice.”

The librarian seems pleased with Vergil’s request. She nods in excitement, happy that someone needs her help and ideas, “Certainly.”

She excuses herself to get more coffee for both of them whilst Vergil returns to his usual desk and rest his head, processing to clear his brain from any irrelevant informations when suddenly a glimpse of his experience as V comes up.

This life’s dim windows of the soul

Distorts the heavens from pole to pole

And leads you to believe a lie

When you see with, not through, the eye.

There was a time when he, as V, memorized that poem at the center of Redgrave City. He was exterminating demons along with his familiars. He did his best to save any last survivors as much as he can. Between his own survival agenda and his unnatural obsession to defeat Dante, he truly realized the tremendous gravity of crime he did all this time for his pursuit of power. All he wanted that time was just a chance of redemption. He saved the humans compulsively, again and again. Like he would never get atonement at all.

That was the time he learnt that every humans and demons has stories in their eyes. Whether it’s hunger, glutton, joy, fear, sadness, painful memories. It was all reflected in the eyes. Their desires were always transparent like an open book. Even his mother once said that eyes are the window of the soul. Vergil used this wisdom to analyze his enemies. To find out their true intention. But at that time, as V, he used the knowledge to understand humanity and self-introspection. To accept his own emotions and weaknesses.

It all make sense now why the librarian’s existence intrigues Vergil.

It’s her eyes, Vergil contemplates. Ones that didn't tell me its stories.

He quickly lifts his head when he hears the little steps of the librarian approaching him.

“I am sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologizes while placing a tray of pot of coffee and a book on the desk, careful not to place it too close to the Almagest. She fills their cups calmly, enjoying the coffee’s delightful smell. Though Vergil noticed her awkwardness for being around him.

It’s clear that the librarian feels a degree of burden from accepting the challenge from this mysterious, brooding tall man who visits the library almost every week. She’s aware of how intelligent this man could be. How he would challenge her intellect and make her arguments invalid. Even his name is enough to convince her that the man in front of her will be her most peculiar customer to handle.

However, their discussion regarding Almagest is running smoothly. Though not an expert of astronomy herself, she’s capable of explaining Vergil’s questions regarding the Almagest and astronomical trivias. Her eyes might not tell him anything, but he can sense her true passion in astronomy. She doesn’t speak unless Vergil ask her something he’s not quite understand. He notices the librarian silently reads The Fall of the House of Usher. She shows no difficulty switching her reading and tag along with their discussion. 

“I am sure not an expert of Almagest, but I hope I can still give you some enlightment,” says the librarian before she sips her coffee.

“You already are,” Vergil admits. He scans Ptolemy’s equant model and memorizing the librarian’s explanation. From all chapters of the book, he found the star catalogue to be the most interesting part.

Young Vergil was astonished with the stars. Back to his childhood at Sparda Manor, when the night falls, the twins used to sneak out from their bedroom and climb the roof to stargazing. They were too young to truly acknowledged the beauty of the night sky, but Vergil enjoyed that moment. It was hard to find the right time to get along with Dante and made him sit still without bugging him any further. Dante would occasionally pointed on something in the sky, pretending he saw a meteor. Vergil would replied with sarcastic remarks as always, saying that he acts foolish or something. Then it would lead to another brotherly fight.

“The star catalogue is certainly the most enticing part of the book,” Vergil mutters, sipping his coffee as he inspects Ptolemy’s star chart.

“Indeed. The star map is ancestral to the modern system of constellations. Now there is another 40 officially recorgnized constellations and two trillions galaxies.”

The librarian adds new informations for Vergil, including the brightest stars of the constellations and best months to find it. He returns the favour by telling her more details about Greek mythology, which is inseparable with Ptolemy’s star mapping.

“It seems to me that ancient Greek gods has a fancy preference to placed their fallen heroes in the sky, if not, curse them into something ridiculous,” the librarian contemplates.

“Not all heroes,” Vergil refutes. “Cassiopeia mocked the Gods by boasting her daughter being more beautiful than all the Nereids. She was chained in her own throne as her punishment. Then Poseidon condemned her to circle the celestial pole forever.”

“More like a good example of what being a narcissistic could do rather than a tribute for her.” She mumbles. “It’s interesting to note that both Cassiopeia constellation and narcissistics have a similar trait.”

“Which is?”

“They are all easily spotted and visible all around the year.”

Vergil tries so hard not to burst in laugh. “Are there any constellations visible all the year aside from Cassiopeia?”

“There are Draco, Cepheus, Ursa Major and… Ursa Minor. There,” She points the picture of four constellations. “Together with Cassiopeia, they are circumpolar constellations of northern sky. These constellations circling Polaris, the brightest star of Ursa Minor. Commonly known as The North Pole Star. The big bear Ursa Major is the largest northern constellation. It also contains the most prominent asterism in the night sky, oftenly confused for the constellation itself. Cassiopeia is always easily recognized for its clear W shape, like she was being chained on her throne as you mentioned it earlier. While her husband and worst father ever to sacrificed his daughter to sea monster, Cepheus, is not widely known in spite of its size. Cepheus and Draco are two of the largest constellations in the sky but their stars are not as prominent as Ursa Major.”

“And these constellations remain invisible from southern locations?”

“Sadly, yes. But the south has its circumpolar constellations too. There are Centaurus, Carina, and Crux. You won’t find Carina and Crux in the Almagest. It was Argo Navis before French astronomer de Lacaille divided it into the three smaller constellations; Carina, Puppis, and Vela. As for the Crux, it was originally considered to be a part of the Centaurus before 1679, and the smallest of 88 constellations, if I’m not mistaken…”

“If you are not mistaken.” Vergil emphasises sarcastically.

“Which means I am certain that I mentioned it right.” she evades.

The librarian tries her best to not let her laughter comes out when she notices Vergil’s permanent frown gets more crumpled.

The librarian seems to enjoy driving the half-devil to the edge with her dry wit. She finds it funny to see Vergil grunts in annoyance, or his slightly amused grin whenever she said something peculiar. Maybe because the man in front of her right now is always covered by mysterious cloud. That his face is always solemn, imperceptible. He looks sullen, like he never laughed for his entire life. He really needs a bloody lot of kips, she thinks, taking note to Vergil’s darkened eyebags as she compares with her own eyebags, which she thought were quite dark already.

She was going to continue her explanation regarding the southern circumpolar constellations before an unexpected thought spills out from her mouth, “You are haunted, Mr Vergil.”

The atmospheres shifts abruptly. The hybrid’s shoulders stiffens as he glares to the librarian as a warning to not cross the line. His frightening stare sent chills down to the librarian’s spine that she almost choked on her own coffee.

“What’s with the sudden impudent commentary of yours, Librarian?” Vergil doesn’t try to hide his vexation.

“Uh… well…” the librarian chuckled nervously as she hides her face behind her novel, shielding herself from Vergil’s intimidating glare. “You always look like you are either staring to nothing or focus on your book. There is no in-between.”

“You’d be disappointed to know the fact that a lot of people do that. Every time.”

“True,” she agrees. “But you are different. You have the eyes of a man who still try to adjust the new world. Most of people are haunted by the past… but you are haunted by the present.”

She shut her mouth almost immediately, realizing Vergil does nothing but giving her threatening look to stop analyzing him. It was her only detriment; to be innocently curious about everything, silently observing and analyzing things. Most of her ideas are boxed inside her head. She never said it out loud. But this time she couldn’t help but spilling her thoughts. That she finds Vergil interesting.

“I will forgive your impertinence,” the blue demon closes the book and shifts his position to relax his previously tensed shoulders. “Only if you explain why do you think I’m haunted by the present.”

“Well,” she grins and bluntly explains, “There are two kinds of people who willingly to spend the rest of the day staying here; a keen of literature or a misanthrope. I dare say you are both, but I think you are here because you are overwhelmed with the outside world. You are adjusting something you had never experienced before. That adjustment, whatever it is, haunts you. It confuses you, what happens now and how you would react about it. Like the moment when you were unfamiliar with our registrative custom, which was odd because you looked like it was your first time registering something. Honestly? I thought you were making up your name. You looked terribly confused back then, as if you didn’t recognize your own name. You seems… detached from reality.”

I must not let my guard down anymore, Vergil makes a mental note as he feels defeated, even though he won’t admit that everything she said was the truth.

“Pause,” The librarian let out a gasp as she notices Vergil’s inconvenience, “Is it really okay if I continue? I don’t like being psychoanalyzed and I’m completely understand if you want me to stop.”

“You are too late for that. You already talk a little too much.”

“But you said you will forgive me only if I keep talking!”

“If you explain your impertinence.. not chattering like a mockingbird.”

“That’s harsh! Besides, how could I explain if I am not allowed to keep talking?”

I’m done playing words with this woman, Vergil slowly growls in frustration. He never thought that having conversation with a human could be this infuriating. “Then let’s settle the matter. Tell me your thoughts and be done with it.”

“Fair enough,” she seems satisfied, enjoying Vergil’s defeat and curiousity. “For the record, you are the one who asked me to talk. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.  Where was I…? Oh, yes, detached from reality. You speak about humans differently. You treated your surroundings like a bystander. Like you distinguish yourself from reality. It make sense, actually. To understand something, we must separate ourselves from it.”

“I get your point.”

The librarian looks puzzled, “Did you?”

“Of course.”

“Was that mean I was right about you?”

“Even if you are right, I won’t bother to tell you.”

“No… it just…” she taps her fingers slowly. “It’s hard for me to express my point of view, particularly to strangers. Moreover, to make them understand.”

“You’ve done well to the customers.”

“That was different. It’s for business.” She waves her hand nonchalantly. “My point is, maybe this library is the right place for you to adjust yourself. I don’t have any slightest ideas of what you’ve been through, but you deserve to find your peace. Other customers will find you too scary that they will leave this section as fast as they can—I mean, look at yourself! But what I see is just… a man who wants a little solitude from this noisy world. And I believe everyone deserves their own place in the sky… like the stars. No matter how insignificant they feel about themselves.”

The elder son of Sparda found himself stunned by her words. He never thought a human could possess the ability to see people in such illuminating way. She doesn’t flatter nor mock him, just simply stated her intuitive opinions about him. She but a stranger, seeing right through his psyche. The same odd woman who is now obliviously reading her novel like she had already forgotten of what she said earlier.

“You saw a lot, Librarian. That’s an exceptional gift.”

“Compulsive observation isn’t counted as exceptional gift. More like a curse, but thank you. Of course I could be wrong. Maybe you are just another introvert bloke who’s happened to passed by and read something here. Who knows?” 

They now surrounded by a soothing silence. Both of them are preoccupied with their own thoughts. Vergil contemplates the librarian’s words about his adjustment with the present. He never really paid attention about that, but it turns out to be the very reason why he still fear any kind of human contacts. He lost so many years that he almost forgot how it is to be alive.

When he saw Dante and Nero for the first after he re-emerged, he couldn’t believe that everything around him was real. That everything was not a mere illusion anymore. He spent mindless and controlled under Mundus’s cruel illusion for years that the line between the real and the fake were blurring. He was blind and chained. Far too long that his soul was decayed.

And to think he still has a chance to make things right… to be truly alive in the present…

Yet there is still one thing that holds him back. There is a part of him which screaming in agony, searching for validity of his confusing emotions. A part which he hides it deep in his mind palace. The one he refuses to share. For he is afraid that he won’t get any enlightment. That he could be the old Vergil who was obsessed with power. The part that granted him moral codes and compassion.

His doubt on his humanity.

“I used to hate humans,” Vergil finally confesses. “I used to think that they are all weak and useless, and I loathed myself for being a part of human.”

The librarian gives him a curious look, her lips curves into a playful smile, “You stop hating them now? Why, you are right about them anyway.”

The hybrid cannot hold his surprise. The lady in front of him… a mortal human, confirmed Vergil’s confession with ease. As if she herself isn’t human. But that can’t be true, you are a human, right? Vergil tries so hard to not bluntly asking something obvious which could make him look like an imbecile. She doesn’t seem surprised at all by Vergil’s unusual confession.

“It might sounds strange, for I myself a human. But you are right about humans. I could understand why you hated them. Easily corrupted and manipulated, they destroy themselves for something meaningless. But humans are truly fascinating being.”

“Fascinating being…” Vergil murmurs dismissively.

“I think you know it as well as me,” she peeks over her book to meet Vergil’s intimidating, yet calming gaze. “They stand on the grey zone. They are unpredictable, complex being. While most demons only want power and human flesh to consume, humans only desire self-actualization. To be a better version of themselves. That could lead them in many ways. To do things differently. Isn’t that interesting, to think that all the humans in this world are never really the exact same individual? Humans are unique, Mr Vergil. Each of them. Their ability to endure is transcendent.”

“Humans are selfish being.” Vergil objects. “Their desire of self-actualization is misleading. Some humans want to be demon so much that they become something worse than the demon itself.” Including my former self. “They crave for something more. Their greed is boundless.”

“Indeed,” she admits. “I won’t defend that fact. Humans are biologically and inherently selfish. The same goes with human emotions. Though oftenly fallacious, it’s important for human survival…”

“Sounds like a creature of flaw.”

“No one’s perfect, Mr Vergil. Everyone’s flawed. “ the librarian took notice of skepticism in Vergil’s statement. “Yet you stop hating humanity.”

“I try to embrace the fact that I’m part of humanity.”

“Why?”

“… because I have a family to protect.”

“There,” she gives him understanding wink. “Unlike demons, humans have connection to each other called compassion. Their instinct to protect their beloved ones. Their need of security and sense of belonging. Without all of it, humans would ended up just like beasts. That’s what distiguished us from demons. But not all demons. They said Dark Knight Sparda fought for humanity and became a human as well. It seems to me that every humans and demons have choice to be the better or the worst version of theirselves… to be a demon, to be a human… to conquer or to protect.”

“Without strength, you cannot protect anything,” Vergil adds, more like talking to himself.

“Fine word, Mr Vergil.”

“That’s what happens when you’re responsible for lives other than your own.”

“Which means you are not fighting alone. You have someone to protect you.”

You’re gonna need some help… and someone to keep an eye on you, Dante’s voice echoed inside Vergil's head. Had Vergil dismissed him, he would ended up alone again in the Underworld. The fact that Dante was willingly throw himself to join Vergil made him feel secure. That he’s protected.

Why did it take him so long to realise that he was always saved by humanity?

“Ah… that remind me of something…” The librarian seems out of place again. Her unusual pale face is suddenly turns deadpan. But that statement just left hanging in the air as the librarian went back from her reverie. Leaving a trace of voidness in her eyes.

“Your eyes, librarian,” Vergil addresses after he saw the voidness again. “Those eyes spoke nothing.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve seen thousands stories behind every eyes.” The hybrid knocks his fingers on the Almagest as he feels the urge to tell her the truth. That he was enchanted (or bothered?) by her unsettling eyes. “But yours telling me nothing.”

“Oh… well, what am I supposed to do with that information?” she closes her book abruptly, startled by the statement. “They said eyes are the window of the soul, am I right? Was that mean I have no soul?”

“On the contrary,” Vergil disproves. “You have a wanderer soul. A mind of philosopher.”

She flustered as she breaks her eye contact with Vergil. “Well… thank you?”

“You are welcome.” he says softly. “It just… nevermind. Forget everything I said about your eyes. I must have mistook it for something else.”

He lied, of course. His intuition never betrayed him. There’ll be another time, Vergil thought, realizing it’s futile to contend with the librarian. This was their first real conversation since their encounter three months ago and both of them need some time to open up. He won’t rush it. Not that now he really wanted to at least make an acquaintance with a normal human. Moreover, the one who could keep up with his mind and antics,

The librarian seems uncomfortable with Vergil’s appraisal. It was odd, since she thought Vergil isn’t the kind of person who would’ve easily praise someone. Little does she know that Vergil would only compliments people who’s worth his time and energy. She avoids Vergil’s inquisitive eyes, tapping her wristwatch, ”I hate to end our discussion, but apparently we’re closed.”

Vergil surveys at the winter sky that soon will turn into dark, velvet blue from the window beside his desk, “Very well then.”

“You may borrow it as long as you want,” the librarian points at the Almagest as she cleans the empty cups.

“Would that be okay for you?” Vergil doubtly glances at the book.

“Just please don’t report me to Mr Steiner,” she chuckles when she mentioned the library’s owner. Vergil remembers an old man and his occasional visits to the library and checking notes at receptionist table. “A kind one, that man, but his wrath was horrendous.”

“Won’t your colleague complain about this?”

“Nate? He’s off duty today. Worry not, he rarely checks Rare Section.” She stands up, about to lift her tray. “Oh, and please take a great care of it. I’d lose all of my wages if you somehow decided to broke it.”

“I won’t,” he reassures. “Although it is not wise to trust a stranger, Librarian.”

“Righty-ho,” she winks mischievously. “Yet I believe this stranger will keep his words.”

“And how would this stranger keep his words if he doesn’t even know the name of the very person who made him promised?”

“Ah… Mr Vergil… I did mentioned my name in our earlier discussion!” she giggles as she grips her tray in excitement. “But yes, I didn’t precisely tell you that it was my name.”

“I don’t like riddles.”

“Ha! Then let’s play a riddle, shall we? It should be easy if you listened carefully to my explanations regarding constellations!”

It is surely futile to contend with this peculiar woman. As much as he dislikes to accept the challenge, he ultimately agreed to prove his competency. He won’t lose to everyone, let alone this scallywag librarian. He folds his hands on the chest as she prepares to give him clues :

“I am visible in the Northern and Southern hemispheres

I am prominent in the summer night sky

I belong to the Hercules family of constellations 

My closest neighbour constellation is Cygnus

The meteor shower appears annually in April

I have one of the brightest star in the sky.”

The hybrid goes silent, recalling his recent discussion with the librarian. He remembers the librarian briefly mentioned this constellation— a small constellation, but its brightest star is the fifth brightest star in the sky…

The process of recall also brings him to the second passage of Georgics, which originally was a Greek tale of tragic story between a musician who attempted to retrieving his dead lover from the Underworld. He managed to get through all of the obstacles only by the play of his music instrument and softened the heart of Hades, the ruler of the Underworld.

This pattern of memories immediately leads him to his answer.

“You are heavily associated with the musician Orpheus, who took his own life after his failure to ressurect Eurydice, his beloved wife. Then Zeus placed you, Orpheus’s most cherished instrument, amongst the stars,” Vergil smiles in victory. “The lyre… Lyra.”

Lyra smiles slyly, “Touché, Mr Vergil.”

“Just Vergil is fine.”

“Very well then, Vergil.”

Lyra excuses herself to wash the cups, but Vergil insists to follow her to receptionist table. He waits her to finish the washing and packing her belongings while reading the motions of Venus and Mars from the Almagest. He occasionally asks her something concerning the part he read on and she’ll answer his questions from her office.

“Your choice of word was interesting, Vergil.” Lyra shouts while drying the cups.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said Orpheus took his own life,” she recites. “But let say God doesn’t exist, then it’s absurd to say that he took his own life. Taking it from who? If his life was truly his…”

The hybrid demon sighs frustratedly, “It’s a figure of speech. Do you always take things too literally?”

“Blimey, Vergil. I was just joking!” the librarian appears in the office doorway as she wears her gloves. Her blue oversized sweater is now covered with black babydoll coat. Vergil makes a mental note of her elegant, classy appearance as the two of them heading out of the library. Clearly she is a type of person who prioritize comfort in clothing rather than fashion, but she is nonetheless still an attractive woman. 

“Your whimsical sense of humour could drive one to insanity,” he remarks, but there is no offensive tone in his voice. He does enjoy her quirky humour, though he won’t admit it.

“Oh, Vergil…” Lyra smiles mysteriously while locking the entrance door. “You have no idea what insanity is.”

Or maybe I do have the idea.

They continue their conversation until they walk pass the crowd of the street. As the conversation goes on, Vergil mentally noted Lyra’s favourites and her quirks; she has too many favourite books, but she will always re-read The Hound of Baskerville and The Silence of the Lambs. Vergil was never stand too close from her to notice her slight limp on her right leg— too subtle that normal human eyes couldn’t spot it. He wonders how she got that, but he doesn’t ask. Instead he tells her his favourites and that he prefers classics, but he’s open for something new.

“Wait a second.”

Lyra jogs to a patch of blooming snowdrops as they’re passing a playground. She picks the flower, making a small bouquet from it, and quickly returns to Vergil, who’s waiting for her in confusion.

“Galanthus nivalis,” she hands him the bouquet. “They say snowdrop represents a friend in adversity.”

“Also consolation and hope,” Vergil adds. He touches the petals with one of his gloveless finger delicately, as he recalls the language of flowers his mother taught him once. The twins were regularly helped their mother gardening as she told them the story behind every flowers.

Lyra lifts her eyebrows, “Never thought you’d familiar with floriography.”

“As a librarian, I think you know it better than me to not judge a book by its cover.”

“You got a point there," she scans through the snowdrops on Vergil’s firm hand. “My mother once told me, if I find myself lost, pick flowers.” 

“That was an exquisite wisdom.”

“It is,” she grins. “That’s why I picked you these snowdrops. You seem lost. You should start picking more flowers.”

“Only if I lose myself,” Vergil pledges. “At the moment, I think I already have my answers. You’ve been very helpful.”

“No worries,“ Lyra continues her walk before she turns her back to Vergil again. “I’ll take my leave here. It was a pleasure to meet you, Vergil.”

The hybrid doesn’t respond. He doesn’t like the idea of her walking all alone in dark alleys. There is a part of him which urging him to escort her until she’s safely arrived at her house. The world is full of danger. It could be anything; demons, thieves, serial killers, even natural disasters. “I could… you know… escort you home.” Vergil almost bite his lips, curse himself for his reckless offer. 

Lyra shake her head, although she noticed the visible concern from the man who stand still in front of her. “It’s very kind of you to offer me escortion, but I still have to stop by my friend’s house.”

Her face determines her reluctance to be escorted that Vergil couldn’t find better excuse, “If you say so.”

"Well… normally I would say ‘goodbye’ to strangers because I don’t plan to meet them again. But this time I’ll say ‘auf Wiedersehen’, means ‘until we see each other again’”.

“Bold of you to assume that we will see each other again.” 

“As a librarian, I have a duty to remind you that you still have a book to return.”

Vergil couldn’t help but chuckles as he’s amused with her perfect comeback. Her laughter is strong enough to make Vergil reciting a poem that revolved around his head regarding her presence :

“The sun descending in the west

The evening star does shine

The birds are silent in their nest

And I must seek for mine.

The moon, like a flower,

In heaven’s high bower,

With silent delight

Sits and smiles on the night.”

The librarian stands speechless. The pupil of her eyes dilates in awestruck, not aware of the hybrid’s delicacy of making those void eyes now full in adoration.

“That was… splendid.” she blurts. “I’ve heard that somewhere… Shakespeare? Wordsworth? Oh, no no no… hmm… Blake?”

She smiles in victory as Vergil gives her a confirmation nod. She remembered Vergil’s book list, “Your favourite, of course.”

“Do me a favour,” Vergil says seriously. “Be very careful on your way back home. Our world is a savage world.”

“Of course.“ She nods in beam. “Though I assure you, I’m penniless and too troublesome to be kidnapped.”

“I can see that.“

Lyra waves her hand playfully as she takes her leave, “Auf Wiedersehen, Publius Vergilius Maro.”

The blue demon couldn’t help but rolls his eyes.

“Word of advice, Vergil,” she shouts before she disappears into the crowd of the boulevard. “Ad astra per aspera.”

To the stars through difficulties. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Vergil waits until he can’t see Lyra’s figure anymore. He somewhat feel guilty for leaving her defenseless, alone in the street. Yet he trusts his intuition, that she is capable of taking care of herself. It doesn’t stop him to think that he will escort her if she allows him, though. Being around her is just… different. It’s different from what Vergil feels when he’s with Dante and Nero. Definitely not the same way when he’s around Devil May Cry crews. Even this is the different kind of feeling he once had for Nero’s mother, a long time ago.

The blue hybrid looks up to the cloudy night sky.

According to Lyra’s explanation, winter is the best season for stargazing. There are so much observable astronomical events in this season, not to mention the appearance of Winter Triangle and Winter Hexagon, the two major asterism that dominates the winter night sky. 

“The Winter Triangle formed by Betelgeuse in Orion, Sirius in Canis Major, and Procyon in Canis Minor,” Vergil recalled Lyra’s voice when they discussed asterism. “While the Winter Hexagon are much more complicated. There are Rigel in Orion, Aldebaran in Taurus, Castor and Pollux in Gemini, Capella in Auriga, and the two from the Winter Triangle: Sirius and Procyon. Sometimes both asterisms appear simultaneously.”

One of the perks of being a half-human and half-demon is enhanced senses, including advanced vision. The sky isn’t clear, for the clouds are too dense, but Vergil can easily spot the Winter Triangle without difficulty. The stars are shining brightly that it reflects back in Vergil’s blue eyes. There is Sirius, he spots the second brightest star as viewed from Earth. He remembers Lyra mentioned that Sirius will continue to be the brightest star in the Earth’s night sky for the next 210.000 years.

He’s not sure that he would live to witness that phenomenon. Even Sparda didn’t live that long. Yet the fact that he would someday die doesn’t bother him. He is no longer interested in searching for power anymore, now that he realized that his true power lies within his humanity. He becomes more convinced after his conversation with Lyra. That humanity is flawed, but worth to defend. It makes him the man he is now.

The thought of the librarian gave him a moment of serenity in the darkness of the street. Gently, he slips the snowdrop bouquet Lyra made for him between the pages of Almagest. The token of their friendship. Her offer for his adversity. That remind him of a poem his mother once recited for him, when he was helping her at the garden of Sparda Manor :

“Now— now, as I stooped, thought I

I will see what this snowdrop is

So shall I put much argument by

And solve a lifetime’s mysteries.”

“Interesting.” He mutters to himself as he summons the Yamato, cut the space to open a portal and walks towards Devil May Cry office.

–

Here's the source of recited and mentioned poems and lines :

Paradise Lost by John Milton

Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

Auguries of Innocence by William Blake

Georgics by Virgil

Night by William Blake

The Snowdrop by Walter de la Mere

[cordoniantrash]

Once Upon Another Time: Chapter Nine

AU: In another time where the brothers Beaumont did not reach Cassandra in time, the waitress turned lady went back to New York to rebuild her old life. After finding an unexpected souvenir, she set off and joined her long lost family. Four years later, a newly divorced King of Cordonia arrives in New York in hopes of reuniting with his beloved. Instead of Cassandra, all he found was a postcard with the word Edgewater written on the back

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Plus a masterlist if you guys are interested. Also in AO3.

Hello and welcome to my longest chapter to date! Also the opening of the “second act”. Chapters from this one onward are gonna be pretty long, so... brace yourselves I guess? Huge thanks to @thequeennefertipi for being my beta and for sticking with this story. 

Segue: If you guys like the Miraculous Ladybug, she’s written an amazing fanfic about Chloé Bourgeois, which can be found in her writing blog and in her AO3!

Anyways, feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Spelling and grammatical errors are mine.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege. Title for both the series and the chapter titles, plus the epigraphs are from Sara Bareilles’ discography.  

Pairings: Liam x MC

Warning: brief, non-graphic depiction of violence, long post

Words: 9994

Chapter Nine: Wicked Love

Wait until you see

How mighty the truth can be

Like an ocean of light

It's a sky filled with fireflies

 Liam could still catch snippets of the revelry inside even though he had closed the double doors that lead to the balcony. Placing both hands on the railing, he allowed his composure to bleed away from him. That did not ease his heavy heart. Liam heaved a sigh as he closed his eyes. 

“You know, I thought you’d have a few more years before you’d try to escape anniversaries.”

Liam tensed. Taking care to mask his emotions, he turned and met his father’s eyes. 

“You should be resting, father.”

Constantine’s small smile vanished. A part of Liam, the little boy that still yearned for his papá, for just a moment, just a little more time, for just a scrap — mourned its loss. He mentally shrugged off the heartache, a part of him surprised at how easily he could do it. Must be all the practice he’s been getting.

“Liam—“

“The festivities can survive without me for a few more moments, father. Besides, Madeleine can handle it.” 

“I know that. We both know that. But that is not why I sought you out.”

“Father—“

“No, Liam. King or no king, a son must still listen to his father.”

Liam’s hands curled into fists. A multitude of words seemed to have stuck inside his throat, all of them yearning to be let out. To let his father know how hard this year had been. How much it hurt. He wanted to scream and lash out. Let the world know how he felt. Why should I listen to you when you blocked me at every turn? Why should I even look at you when you’ve hurt her and driven her away? When you made a mockery of our choices?

“If this is about having an heir again—“

Constantine shook his head. “You’ve made your stance clear enough. I’ll give you the time you asked for. But that does not mean the people would as well. You can’t play the newlywed card forever,” his father took a few steps in his direction. “Liam, it may not look like it, but this truly is what’s best for you. For our kingdom.” He placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Fairy tales are all well and good, but you must think of what’s best for Cordonia.”

He gestured towards the ballroom. Towards Madeleine. 

“Remember, you are Cordonia. And your future is here.”

His father let go of Liam’s shoulder. With long strides, he reached the doors and opened them. With a glance over his shoulder, Constantine imparted a parting blow.

“It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

-

Liam woke up with his left arm asleep. Eyebrows furrowed and vision still foggy from sleep, it took him a moment to see what caused his arm to go numb. What he first thought to be a dark mass turned out to be Cassandra’s head. Liam glanced down and saw a smaller body cradled between them. Somehow during the night, his arm had served as a pillow for both Lucas and Cassandra. Liam smiled, all thought of his discomfort gone. Slowly and with a gentleness he vaguely remembered from his mother, he wrapped his free arm around his family, holding them close. He thought of the memory that came back as a dream. Of his father’s words. He looked at Cassie and Lucas again.

It can work out. I’ll do my hardest to make this work. 

I won’t lose my family again.

----

“Does Lucas like castles?”

“Hmm?” Cassie looked up from the article she was editing. And stared. Liam, still looking through his phone, took a seat next to her. That wasn’t what caused all thoughts to flee from her mind. The father of her child and the love of her life, the King of Cordonia was wearing glasses. Cassandra’s brain seemed to have short-circuited. 

Liam with glasses. No, Liam wearing glasses. Full rimmed glasses that showed off his eyes. And framed his face. Good god, was he more handsome than he was this morning? 

Why is it suddenly warm in here?

“Cassie?” 

Cassandra blinked. Her brain scrambled to remember what was happening. Liam’s face seemed closer than before. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. Concern was shining through his eyes.

His eyes, warm and brown and showcased through his glasses. Beautiful.

Focus!

“Are you all right?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh yeah. I’m–I’m fine,” her eyes darted around the room, finally settling on the old grandfather clock against the wall. “Oh, look at the time! It’s almost lunch! I’ll go alert the staff.”

Cassie quickly closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table before moving to stand. Liam laid a hand on her arm. 

“Are you sure, you’re all right?”

“Uh yeah. Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she paused long enough to see Liam hesitate. 

Oh.

She sat back down, took his hand in hers and smiled, “I’m not getting second thoughts, Liam. I just got, uh, a bit distracted, that’s all.”

Liam let out a breath. And smiled. It took all of Cassie’s willpower not to jump him right then and there. She moved to stand up again, this time dragging Liam with her.

“How about we talk about destinations over Sunday roast?”

-

Aunt Clara had the staff set up chairs and tables in the solarium. Far more personal and intimate than the rooms they’ve previously eaten in. As she and Liam stepped aside for one of the staff members, Cassie was suddenly hit with the thought that this might be her Auntie’s own little way of fully welcoming Liam in. Cassie smiled. 

“So… what were you say—“

“Mommy!” a little blur ran into the room and crashed into her legs. Surprised, Cassie stumbled back. Liam’s hands were suddenly there to support her. 

“Careful,” Liam said over her shoulder.

“Sorry Mommy!” their little terror said before zooming out again. The staff, all too used to Lucas’ hijinks, calmly stepped aside, indulgent smiles on their faces. 

“Okay, who gave him sugar this time?” Cassie demanded once she straightened up. Briar who had followed into the room shrugged and smiled, looking over her shoulder.

“Who indeed?”

Eyes wide with realisation, Cassie whirled around and glared at Liam. 

“You!” she gasped, jabbing a finger at him. Liam quickly stepped back and raised his hands, a placating gesture that she barely noticed. And to think she was swooning earlier! 

“I just gave him one cookie — “he quickly closed his mouth when she scowled. Cassie ignored the small burst of satisfaction at the sight. 

“You deal with him when he crashes from his sugar high.” She said as she crossed her arms.

Liam nodded quickly, his eyes wide. “Of course. Anything you need.”

Cassie’s heart melted. No! I’m annoyed! I should be annoyed!  She opened her mouth, ready to launch into a speech when her aunt’s voice stopped her.

“Am I interrupting?”

Cassie turned her head towards the doorway. From the corner of her eye, she saw Liam do the same. 

“Auntie!”

“Not at all, my lady, “Liam answered smoothly. A glance told her he had quickly regained some composure. Shit! I must look like a mess, came her flustered thought. 

“Well, if you say so…” her aunt trailed off. She shook her head. “Actually dear, can we pop into the study for a bit? I need to talk to you about something.”

At Cassie’s frown, she smiled reassuringly. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

“I’ll go take care of Lucas,” Liam piped up beside her. He gave her shoulder a brief squeeze and took his leave with a smile to her and her aunt. 

Cassie spared a moment to watch him walk away. 

“He’s not going anywhere, you know,” her aunt’s words snapped Cassie out of her trance. Clara was wearing a teasing smirk when Cassandra looked at her aunt’s direction.

“I know that,” she mumbled as she turned and walked to her aunt’s side. “Did something happen?”

“In a manner of speaking,” her aunt replied as they walked towards the stairs. She smiled, the reassurance familiar as it was welcome. “I meant it when I said it’s nothing bad.” 

Her aunt walked into her study, making a beeline towards one of the display cases near the far wall. Cassie followed, confusion turning into apprehension. She could feel her heart beating hard in her chest. Small, hesitant steps brought her a little closer. 

Aunt Clara now stood in front of a familiar set of jewellery. The Edgewater Jewels, one of her family’s sources of pride, glittered in the midmorning sunlight that streamed into the study. Whoever holds the jewels holds the very essence of Edgewater, her aunt used to joke. But Cassie knew that it was a saying that had been passed down from generation to generation. There was a reason most of the jewellery Gran left her were coloured gold and blue. It was part of their heritage. And it was usually entrusted to the heir of the estate. Which also meant heir to the title and all the holdings and responsibilities that come along with the honour. 

Cassie felt her eyes widen as she turned to her aunt. 

“Tell me that’s not what I think it means.”

Aunt Clara’s smile was small and sad. Like Gran’s all those years ago. But unlike her grandmother, who tucked her head and hidden away during a confrontation, Aunt Clara held her chin high and looked Cassie in the eye. Apprehension caused butterflies to flutter in Cassie’s stomach. Her gaze fell to the jewels, still glinting after centuries of use. 

“Can I at least tell you why?”

“Auntie—“ 

“I know you said you’d think about it. And I respect that, love. And I would have given you all the time that you need, but circumstances rarely go the way we want them to, you know that,” her aunt took a step towards her. Cassie felt rooted on the spot. “Please understand that I am not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do. What I want – what I’ve always wanted, is to protect you and Lucas. And short of prohibiting you to go, this is the best way I can think of.”

Aunt Clara was now standing in front of her. She gently took Cassandra’s hands. “Even if it’s just by name, I’d like you to be the heir to Edgewater.”

----

 The Duchy of Krona

“My lady, the media have been sending emails asking for an update on our monarch’s location,” Justin told her as she stepped out of the car. Suppressing the urge to sigh in exasperation, Kiara quickly composed herself and turned to her secretary. 

Be careful around that one, Olivia had told her. Since then, she had felt like she was walking on eggshells around her own secretary. It was an inconvenience, but better safe than sorry, as the old saying goes. Keeping her face blank, she took care in choosing her next words.

“Justin, I already told you to take care of that.”

He bobbed his head, making a great show of being contrite. “Yes, my lady. But they’ve been calling and asking nonstop—“

“Then tell them again. The King is currently engaged in an important diplomatic summit in Europe. And this time, remind them that due to the sensitive nature of such events, we can’t broadcast the specifics until His Majesty’s return.”

There was a flash of frustration in Justin’s face before he schooled his features. Frustration and something darker. Beneath her calm façade, Kiara felt cold. Olivia told her she and her network are working on discovering what’s really going on. But their investigation had yielded nothing substantial just yet. At least, not on that front. 

It couldn’t come soon enough.

Kiara swallowed her sudden fear and turned away, towards the main estate of House Amaranth. But it gave us an edge over Madeleine. 

She set a brisk pace, quickly reaching the entrance and the line of staff members that await her. Justin at her heels. Is that even your real name?

Kiara took another deep breath. No use in engaging in multiple fronts, as Olivia would say. If he is a player, he will soon make his move. But right now, it’s my turn.

-

Adelaide was the first one to greet her in the sitting room. The usual sparkle that the older woman used to exhibit had dimmed. Like a paper doll, she thought with a pang of pity. Kiara felt for the Duchess. We are not the only ones that Madeleine’s schemes had hurt. A pity it must end this way. 

Kiara stood up and offered a curtsy. “Your Grace.”

Adelaide offered her a smile that echoed her old one. “My lady. Despite current circumstances, I must say, I’m glad you came calling. Tea?”

Kiara smiled and nodded. This is my element. I can do this. And I will do this well.

“Yes, please.”

-

If the duchess seemed off when Kiara arrived, she was downright ashen when they finished their tea. A paper doll that’s about to be set alight. Oh, how I hate that it came to this!

Adelaide’s teacup rattled slightly as she set it on the table. She seemed to sag into her chair. Kiara kept her hands clasped together on her lap. She did not want to know if it trembled.

 Silence reigned between them. Kiara could hear the faint ticking of a clock. Unbidden, her gaze went to the window. Summer finally came. But why do I still feel cold? God, I wish Hana’s here.

“If — “Adelaide’s voice cut through the chasm between them. Kiara turned to face the duchess once more. “If what you say is true, my house will be in ruins,” she barked out a laugh. Kiara stared. Its cynical edge was so different from what she had previously known from the older woman. “More than it already is.”

Despite her training, Kiara longed to comfort the older woman. She’s always been kind to me, even before all this happened. Instead of the comforting hand that she wanted to extend, Kiara reached into her purse and pulled out a sealed envelope. Still keeping her silence, she slid it towards Adelaide’s direction. 

“I’m afraid that years of evidence proves its validity, Adelaide.”

The Duchess of Krona stared at the envelope in front of her. 

“Has the king been told?”

“… not yet.”

“But are you going to tell him?”

Kiara hesitated. “He has to know.”

“I suppose you want me to stop Madeleine’s campaign in exchange for his majesty’s continued ignorance?”

Kiara kept her face carefully blank. It may be diplomacy’s last tool, but I’ve never truly liked blackmail. And it was blackmail, no matter how much they’d like to sugar-coat it. 

“Nothing so drastic, Adelaide. I simply ask for a private audience with your daughter.”

“But you’re still going to tell Liam.” Defeat was written on the duchess’ shoulders.

Kiara softened her tone. “He has the right to know, my lady. And this would worsen if he found out that this had been hidden from him,” Kiara hesitated before going off the script that Olivia and Hana helped her write. “Liam is not his father.”

Adelaide looked up and met Kiara’s eyes, hesitation and cautious hope in her gaze. “He’ll see that you and your house have been unwitting accomplices. The fault lies with Godfrey.”

Adelaide hesitated. “And my daughter?”

Kiara sighed; her face the very picture of uncertainty, despite the satisfaction growing in her chest.

“That would depend on whether we meet and talk, Adelaide.”

The duchess straightened in her seat.  

“Very well. You’ll have your meeting.” She moved to stand up. “I do hope you succeed. For all our sakes.” 

----

The Royal Palace

Hana quickly tossed aside the papers she had been reviewing when she saw her phone light up. Ignoring the quizzical looks that Olivia and Leo sent her, she quickly seized her phone and opened it.

“It’s Kiara!” Her two companions paused in their respective tasks. “She’s in!” Hana announced into the room. 

“Good,” Olivia said, a smirk blooming on her face. “And the secretary?”

Hana scanned the message, “she sent him off on another task. She and Madeleine would be alone.”

“What happens now?” Leo asked as he began to pace the room. “Was the bastard there?” he spat out.

“She didn’t say…” Hana trailed off. 

“That would mean he’s still in his estates in the UK,” Olivia quickly cut in. Yesterday’s revelation had shaken them to the core, Leo most of all. Despite being her stepson, Leo had spent more time with Eleanor than Liam. She had practically raised him even before she had married Constantine. She was the woman he recognised as his mother. And to find that her killer had walked free for years… Katie and Olivia had barely stopped him from going after Godfrey. To say the last twenty-four hours had been fraught would be an understatement.

The older Rys grunted in acknowledgement before starting another round of agitated pacing. Like a lion in a cage, she thought before turning her attention back to Olivia. 

“Should we tell Liam now?” she asked softly.

“We should have told him as soon as we confirmed it,” Leo grumbled before Olivia answered her.

“And we will tell him. Preferably in person,” Olivia retorted. Hana opened her mouth to agree with the duchess when her phone rang again. She stared at the screen, apprehension filling her. 

“It’s Liam,” she announced. Olivia and Leo froze. 

“Answer it, Hana,” Leo said urgently. The unanswered question hung in the air. Does he know?

“Put it on speaker,” Olivia quickly added.

With fingers that trembled slightly, she answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Hana!” Liam’s voice seemed to cement them in place. Faintly, they could hear a child’s laughter in the background. The three of them looked at each other, wide-eyed and on the verge of panic. Her heart was beating so fast, she was half afraid it would burst out of her chest. For one brief moment, Hana scrambled for a scrap of composure.

She managed a soft “Your Majesty” before another voice snapped her out of the stupor she was falling into. 

“… Lucas!”

Hana straightened. “Was that—?”

“Hmm? Oh yes! That was Cassie. Would you like to say hi?”

“Oh! Oh, um—“she cast another wide-eyed look around the room, their conversation before weighing on them. Olivia hesitated, but Leo took a step forward. Before either of them managed a word, Liam’s voice unknowingly interrupted them. 

“Lucas, don’t—“Hana and the others could just make out the sound of a splash. A scuffling sound followed. 

“Liam?” Confusion mixed with the apprehension inside her.

There was a pause. The three of them barely breathed. 

“Hana, are you still there?” Liam’s voice sounded harried this time. “I’m so sorry, but I have to cut this short. Cassie’s got Lucas inside. Maybe you two can talk some other time? Maybe later?”

“Oh! That’s fine. What happened? If I might ask.”

Liam’s voice was tinged with amusement when he answered, “He crashed his bike into the lake.”

Hana smiled. 

“That’s not why I called though,” Hana suddenly felt cold. All too aware of the vacant seat that Kiara used to occupy. Does he know? The anxious thought circled her mind once more. And judging by the way Olivia and Leo hung on Liam’s next words, she wasn’t the only one. 

How do you tell one of your closest friends that you’ve uncovered the culprit behind his mother’s death?

“Can you book a flight to London tomorrow? Cassie and I need your expertise on something.”

-

“I think it’s a bad idea,” Olivia insisted. Hana completely agrees with her. Across the table, with arms crossed and agitated, Leo glared at the both of them. 

“He’s my brother,” Leo insisted. “What we found here should come from me, Olivia. You know that.”

“For the last time, I’m not saying you can’t tell Liam, I’m saying you can’t go!” Olivia snapped as she stood up. Hana could feel a headache forming around her temples. 

“Besides, we don’t know what Liam and Cassandra need me for,” Hana added before her companion’s agreement turned into a shouting match. 

“That’s obvious, he’s planning on bringing her and my nephew back here.”

“You don’t know that,” Hana countered, taking care to soften her tone. The last thing she needs is for this to escalate.

Olivia shook her head, “He’s got a point.” Leo opened his mouth, intent on driving his point home and getting his way. Olivia fixed him with a glare and added, “Which is why Hana has to go.”

“Olivia—“

“No.”

“But—“

“We need you here,” Olivia went on. “Abdicated or not, you’re the last adult Rys in the palace. You lend some legitimacy over our orders, so unless you want to tell your brother how you’ve disregarded his instructions, you will stay here.”

Leo scowled. He glanced at Hana, silently asking for support. Hana pursed her lips and shook her head. He slumped in his seat. 

“Besides, Rashad’s also going on a business trip. People won’t think it’s strange that I boarded a plane with him.”

Leo scowled as he looked out the window. 

Hana and Olivia shared a glance, a question between them. A moment passed, and Olivia shrugged. My move then. She glanced at Leo’s still sullen form. Compromise it is.

“I won’t tell Liam until you could, Leo. I promise.”

----

Leo kept looking through the window even after Hana and Olivia had left. Yesterday’s events played on a loop in his mind. It’s been decades, I thought I’d gotten over this. 

But Leo could still remember the sinking feeling of watching the woman he’d known as his mother gasp for breath. Could still recall the frantic rush to her side, the way her hands had gone limp, the flashing lights of the ambulance, the cold sterile hospital. He could still remember, with frightening clarity, how Liam, still a little kid really, looked so lost when the doctors announced that there was nothing they could do. The way his little brother curled up in his arms, shaking and sobbing when it finally sunk in. The funeral and the empty years; years that Eleanor Rys should have lived if not for some heartless bastard and an innocent little goblet.

And to find that the bastard who did this to her was under their noses this whole time? That he had been one of Constantine’s cronies? Rage could hardly describe what Leo had felt. He wanted to get out there and catch him. Make him pay for what he did. 

Katie had been nearly reduced to tears before he had agreed to stay and wait. Leo had agreed reluctantly, remembering his past sins. But his urge to do something, anything at all, remains bubbling under the surface, just waiting for the smallest push. Liam’s phone call had been the prime opportunity. But Olivia’s threat and his past regrets kept him again. Liam missed four years of his son’s life while he had gallivanted around the world. The least he can do is stay in Cordonia and do what Liam wanted them to do. 

This doesn’t mean I still can’t make Godfrey pay. I’ll –

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Before he could stand up and open it, Bertrand Beaumont had stepped inside the room, head held high and nose in the air. Leo resisted the urge to correct his posture. 

“Your—“

“Bertrand, please. Don’t call me that.”

“Oh. Of course.”

The older man nodded and adjusted his cuff. Posture perfect and correct. Leave it to Bertrand to disguise awkwardness with a dignified response. 

“I came here as fast as I could,” Bertrand said as he stepped into the room. Remembering the discreet conversation he had with Liam about the Beaumont’s finances, Leo kept silent. Bertrand dislikes showing weakness, especially among his peers.

“You’d want to see Maxwell then?”

At Bertrand’s nod, Leo stood up and walked towards one of his oldest friends. He clasped Bertrand’s shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring smile. It didn’t seem to work. Leo tried not to take it personally. 

“Let’s go then,” Leo paused just beyond the threshold. “Although, word of advice? Go easy on him.”

Leo wants nothing more than to find Godfrey and make him pay, but he’ll be damned if he lets Liam down again.

-

“Let me get this straight, you knew where Lady Savannah was this whole time and you didn’t tell me?” Standing with his back against the wall, Leo heaved a sigh. What part of go easy did you not understand Bertie?

Maxwell opened his mouth once more to answer his brother and winced as he did so. Leo saw him rub his bruised jaw. Bertrand, still pacing and getting red in the face, did not stop his tirade to listen. “What on earth possessed you to do such a thing? Of all the—”

Leo thinks he saw the moment Maxwell snapped. The younger man stood, squared his shoulders, and whirled around to face his brother.

“I had to help her, Bertrand! She was pregnant with my nephew!”

Leo suppressed the urge to whistle. I really shouldn’t be part of this conversation. He glanced at the closed door behind Bertrand. But I can’t walk out without disturbing these two. 

“I—your what?”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bertie so speechless! Maxwell, emboldened by his brother’s response, continued.

“Savannah was pregnant with your child when she ran away. She said you rejected her!”

“I — “Bertrand seemed to have completely lost his composure. He reached out and clutched the back of the chaise lounge. His knuckles were white. 

I really shouldn’t be here…

Leo looked away from the brothers. The late afternoon sunlight illuminated the courtyard below. He felt a smile creep onto his face. The twins were out and about. Sabrina, his eldest by a whole ten minutes, was busy drawing the various blossoms in the flower beds. Mother loved those flowers too…

Leo shook his head, half hoping the physical act would also shake off his thoughts. He immediately sought his youngest, a reflex he had developed as soon as they started toddling around. Samantha was bending over the fountain, no doubt looking at the pennies on the bottom. He wanted to name them after Eleanor, but he knew that Liam deserved that honour. Besides, they are named after her, in a way. Middle names are the same thing, right?

A sudden noise interrupted his thoughts. He turned to look at the Brothers Beaumont again. Bertrand was sitting in the lounge. Maxwell looked uncertain. 

Leo opened his mouth to suggest drinks, but a knock interrupted him. All three of them turned toward the sound. 

Leo stepped forward. 

“Come in.”

The door opened and a woman wearing a nondescript suit poked her head in. It took a moment for Leo to put a name to the face. 

“Agent Mara, what is it?”

“Sir, someone’s looking for you at the gates. She said you were expecting her.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Leo stepped forward. At the corner of his eye, he could see Bertrand and Maxwell carefully turn around, giving him as much privacy as the room could afford. Gratitude for the brothers bubbled in his chest.

“Who is it?”

Mara hesitated. 

“Well?”

“She-she told us her name was Cordelia, sir. Cordelia Foredale.”

----

East Wing, the Royal Palace

“How’re your knuckles?”

Drake grunted as Savannah, who did not wait for his answer, grabbed his right hand and inspected his yellowing bruise. 

“Are you talking to me now?” he said, immediately regretting his words. Savannah had all but ignored him after he punched Maxwell. A glare was the answer he received. Drake sighed.

He can’t help but feel like everyone was blaming him for one thing or another. Bastien was ignoring his calls, a sure sign that the older man was annoyed at him, while Olivia was pissed at him (nothing new but this one was on him, he’ll readily admit that). He knew he abandoned his assigned duties, so their reaction was a bitter pill that he had to swallow.

Hana and Kiara were keeping their distance, but he knew that they sided with Maxwell, and Leo’s accusing stare was directed at him and Maxwell both. So he can live with that. What stings the most was that Savannah was mad at him and his nephew (he has a nephew!) was wary around him. 

And Liam’s out of the country, probably getting cosy with Angeles…

The pain in his knuckles snapped him from his thoughts. Drake was almost glad for it. 

There’s a very big chance that Cassandra will come back into their lives. Drake doesn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, the very thought of her sent tingles down his spine (he ignored them as he had four years ago), and on the other, she’s probably coming back with Liam. Try as he might, that old, buried and suppressed pangs of jealousy had reared its ugly head once more. 

There was a mention of a little boy too. Their boy, if he got that right. Drake refused to acknowledge the knot of emotions he felt at the thought.

I could really use a drink right now.

“Done.” In a flash, Savannah had stood up and walked away from him. Drake could make out Bartie’s head as it poked out of an open doorway.

He inspected the bandage on his hand.

“Thanks, sis,” he said into the empty room. 

----

Meanwhile, in Fydelia

To an outsider’s perspective, it did not look like a stand-off. Just two ladies having tea on a balcony. Sophistication at its finest. From a young age, they have been taught how to disguise negotiations as pleasant small talk. How silence can answer a question as well as any given answer. They had been taught how to be graceful swans on the outside, never letting slip the machinations that lurked underneath their perfect façade. 

A pale delicate hand calmly picked up her teacup, raised it to her scarlet stained lips and took a dainty sip. Kiara’s well-trained eyes observed the movement and catalogued it in her mind. It seemed like her hostess would insist on some juvenile power play right off the bat. Kiara took in Madeleine’s demeanour; shoulders back and chin lifted. Smug despite her courtly mask. 

She thinks, because I came to her first, that she has the upper hand, Kiara thought, amused at the thought. Whatever pity she might have felt for the mother, unfortunately, did not extend to the daughter. Adelaide might have been an unwitting victim in this scenario, but we all knew that Madeleine’s actions are her own. She knew what she was doing from the start. And for whatever reason, she made herself believe that she can win in this hopeless endeavour. Kiara took another moment to study the Countess by taking a sip of her own tea. Let Madeleine think she has me on the ropes. What exactly were you hoping to accomplish from all of this?

 “I do hope the tea is to your liking, Lady Kiara. I seem to recall you favour the more traditional favours?”

“The tea and the service is, as always, perfectly adequate, my lady,” Kiara demurred, taking silent satisfaction with the way Madeleine’s lips twisted at the insult. Ever the perfectionist.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I find myself tired of courtly games lately,” Madeleine said, annoyance clear in her eyes. Whatever happened to patience Madeleine? Kiara’s quite certain that amusement was clear in her eyes. 

“Well?” Madeleine snapped. For a moment, Kiara remembered all those uncertain hours under her thumb. Of all the times the woman before took genuine pleasure at breaking Hana apart at the seams. You’ll never see so much as the shine off the crown if I had anything to say about it.

Kiara raised an eyebrow. Madeleine’s own sculpted eyebrows started to furrow. What? Did you think I came all this way to hand you your imagined victory?

“I came to do you a favour actually,” Kiara answered coolly. 

Madeleine scoffed. “And what favour is that exactly? From where I’m standing, you and yours are the ones who need a favour,” Madeleine barred her teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “Has the King gotten so desperate that he sent one of his lackeys to grovel at my feet?” She leaned back, comfortably rearranging herself on her chair, the picture of smug satisfaction. “Well, tell him, he has to be the one doing the grovelling. The satisfaction would be sweeter when I personally reject it.” 

Kiara calmly sipped her tea, letting Madeleine have her brief moment of glory. Well, a supposed moment of glory, she amended in her head. 

A moment passed. Uncertainty entered Madeleine’s eyes. 

“Are you done?” Kiara asked calmly. My turn.

Madeleine opened her mouth to retort, but Kiara did not give her a chance. 

“If you want the continued existence of your House and holdings, you will cease this meaningless smear campaign at once.”

Anger flashed across Madeleine’s features. She opened her mouth once more. Kiara forged on, smoothly reaching into her bag and taking the same envelope that she had presented to Adelaide mere hours ago. She laid it on the table with a flourish. 

“And what’s this?” Madeleine asked, her anger temporarily curbed. 

“Why don’t you take a peak?”

“If this is some hare-brained scheme of Liam’s—“

“Just read the contents, Madeleine,” Kiara said, her voice curt. 

The countess snatched the envelope up. Her face paled at what she read. Madeleine’s porcelain hands held a small tremble when she set it down again. 

“You have already hurt your standing in the nobility’s eyes when you started this campaign. And while free speech is a right that is encouraged in this kingdom, I doubt you’ll be thrilled if we use that self-same right to reveal what your father did to Queen Eleanor all those years ago. Treason is a heavier stain on one’s reputation than mere rumours, is it not?”

Madeleine did not answer. Her eyes were still fixed on the envelope’s contents.

Kiara allowed herself a small smile, “luckily the king and his brother are generous enough to give you a warning.” She leaned forward, now on the offence. “But let me make myself clear. Continue in this ridiculous charade and the court, not to mention the entire world, will know just how many skeletons your father hides.”

“I had nothing to do with this!” Madeleine interjected.

“Perhaps,” Kiara allowed. “But with your well-known outbursts and the campaign, do you think the world will care?”

“They will if they know what’s good for them. The media—“

“Has grown tired of you,” Kiara finished. “After all, all you’ve ever given them are rumours. Were you ever planning on following the story through? Or did you just expect the media to fawn and fall at your feet like when you were still on top?”

“I—“

Now for my gambit.

“Face it, Madeleine. You’ve lost your crown. Do you really want the whole world to see you lose your dignity and your House?”

Green eyes set in a paper pale face stared at her. And for the first time since meeting her, Kiara had the genuine pleasure of seeing Madeleine speechless.

“And we don’t want that, do we? After all, this would mean the total collapse of House Amaranth. All those centuries of prestige reduced to mere rubble by you.”

“Now see here—“

“I really don’t think you have any bargaining chip left, my lady,” Kiara directed a smile at Madeleine’s direction. 

“W-what do you want from me?” Madeleine asked, voice cracking. Her whole body was shaking. A stone statue crumbling before Kiara’s eyes.

“I tire of this courtly game,” Kiara countered. Madeleine flinched. “I think you know exactly what we want, Madeleine. Redact your statements, issue a formal apology and stop your hopeless campaign once and for all.”

“My reputation—“

“Is already in shambles. Imagine what would happen if this got out.”

Kiara stood up, smoothly plucking the folder from Madeleine’s hands.

“My people will be in touch,” she said as she walked out. She paused at the entrance of the balcony. “See? I am doing you a favour.”

 She spared a moment to glance at her fallen opponent. Madeleine barely moved, except for a tiny nod. Her head barely moved, but it was enough. She had accepted the deal. Defeat seemed to be settling on the Countess’ shoulders. Kiara whirled around, a smile tugging at her face.

Checkmate.

----

The Royal Palace

Leo strode through one of the palace’s corridors, Agent Mara a step behind. Questions without answers whirled round and round in his head. Why here? Why now? What now? What does she want?

Leo scowled as he entered the lower levels of the palace. Old stone, centuries-old and cool to the touch, replaced the gilt and glamour of the upper levels. Leo repressed a shiver. It was always cool down here, and it will get colder the farther they descend. Harsh fluorescent lights replaced the torches used centuries ago, but they remain along the walls, a reminder of the Palace’s real age. It was older than it looked. 

Generations of constant rebuilding had changed the façade of the one above ground. It is only when you get down to the lower levels, to the underbelly, that you remember that the Palace stands where an old medieval keep once stood. There had even been stories, mere fancy really, that Kenna Rys, their mythical ancestor, had once used the old keep as a base during one war or another. Liam’s always the one who paid attention to those.

At the thought of his brother, Leo’s mood turned sombre, more contemplative. 

First, we discover Constantine’s secrets, then Liam finds out he has a long-lost son, then this whole business between Drake and Maxwell, I find out fucking Godfrey’s behind Mother’s death and now this? It’s barely been a month!

Another agent greeted them when they reached the end of a corridor. Leo knew from growing up in the palace that they had her inside an interrogation room. Leo could feel his heart beating hard. He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants before taking a deep breath and nodding to one of the agents. 

They opened the door.

Leo gulped. 

He took a tentative step. And then another. 

He was standing at the threshold.

Taking another deep breath, he squared his shoulders and stepped inside.

-

Leo had been told from a young age that he looked like his mother. That the only thing he had inherited from his father was his blue eyes. 

Beyond hazy recollections that were carelessly dismissed in favour of more fond memories of Eleanor and baby Liam, Leo had next to no memory of what his birth mother looked like. When he met her again after twenty-odd years, her hair was more grey than blonde, her hazel eyes were surrounded by crows feet that made him wonder if she had been happier during the years she kept away compared to the years she had spent with him and his father. She had constantly looked down when he met her again, all those years ago. Had barely raised neither eyes nor voice when he had proclaimed a dead woman to be the mother he preferred. She had just nodded and asked in a small voice to see the occasional picture of him and the twins. Aside from lukewarm emails and the occasional promised picture, she had stayed away, as she had for most of his life. Leo preferred it that way, if he was being honest with himself.

After meeting with Clara Harper, Leo could see some faint echo, the barest hint of resemblance on their features. Unlike his, no – their — distant cousin, Cordelia held none of the iron spine that defined his—their – relative. If Clara was grace, poise and eloquence, able to command a room, her distant family member was the silent one. 

But, Leo conceded, she had been high spirited once. During their father’s social season. She had enough charm and energy once. At least enough to secure her place as Constantine’s bride.

Looking at the woman sitting opposite him, Leo couldn’t help but wonder if Constantine was the reason Cordelia retreated into herself. He won’t be surprised if that was the case. 

His birth mother rose from her seat when she saw him enter the room. She was a short woman. The few pictures he saw growing up featured a delicate, petite woman, more doll than human. A perfect accessory for this father to dangle on his arms. Now, she seemed to fold into herself, as if trying to make herself smaller. 

“Leo,” she breathed. “You came.” A tentative smile bloomed on her face. There was a touch of relief in the curve of her lips. 

“I did,” Leo stepped further into the room. “I wasn’t expecting you’d come here.” Wasn’t expecting you’d want to come back.

“Yes – well, the email you sent me— “she abruptly stopped. Her eyes darted around the room. Wary and watchful. Fearful too, Leo saw with a pang. Damn you, old man. 

“It’s fine,” Leo assured her. “We’re safe here.”

“I wouldn’t be sure of that,” she muttered. “Can we talk somewhere more open? I don’t do so well underground.”

“I— “Leo furrowed his eyebrows. Cordelia had no problems underground, nor was she claustrophobic. “All right.”

-

They ended up on the banks of the little lake, just past the gardens that Eleanor so loved. It somehow felt wrong to take her to the place that Leo had always associated with Eleanor. 

The late afternoon sun was on its way to twilight, but there was still enough light that the path lights hadn’t been lit yet. 

He glanced at his birth mother. Silence mixed with awkwardness hung in the air between them. He cleared his throat. 

“You aren’t really claustrophobic are you?”

She shook her head.

“So… why exactly—“

“I thought it would be safer this way,” she answered in a rush, her voice coming out stronger than it had before. 

Suspicion rose within Leo. 

“Why?”

“You never know who’s listening,” she said lightly, expression turning pleasant. “Will you walk with me? Just around the lake.”

“Who would want to listen?” Leo asked even as he walked along with her. “We’re at the heart of the palace. That was the safest we can be.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?”

“I — “Leo thought of Kiara’s secretary. 

Cordelia nodded, interpreting his expression.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though.”

“I thought it would be safer to talk in person. Emails and phone calls can be easily traced.”

“Right,” Leo mumbled. He glanced at Cordelia again. “We –uh – found Edgewater on our own…” he trailed off. 

Cordelia smiled, “I know.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed.

“I saw the pictures from the state dinner. It’s been years but I still know how Cousin Clara looked like.”

“Oh.”

“I hope she’s well?”

“Last I saw her, yeah,” Leo looked around. The shadows were getting longer. “She found your diary, by the way.”

Cordelia startled, “She did?”

Leo nodded then added, “Liam and I read it.”

“So… you know.”

“Is that why you came here?”

She hesitated, but she nodded.

“Is that why you left?”

“Among other things.”

“Right.”

“How did he manage it, by the way?”

“Manage what?”

Leo shrugged, “all of it? How did people not know what was happening?”

“Simple,” Cordelia said as she looked up. “Panem et circenses. The people were placated because he provided them with bread and entertainment. Constantine spearheaded casinos, increased the economy, and kept all the bloodstains behind closed doors. That was his greatest genius, really.”

“And no one noticed?”

“He was quick to silence those who did.”

A moment passed. They have reached the other end of the lake now. Cordelia had stopped walking. Leo turned to face her. The afternoon had finally fallen into twilight.

 “Speaking of, did you come across the Severus clan when you read it?”

“Is that the one where he ordered a whole line killed?”

“… yes.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“There’s a group that formed right after you were born. They called themselves The Sons of Earth. Have you heard of them?” At the shake of Leo’s head, she continued. “I’m not surprised. They were just starting out when I left.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Cordelia turned and looked Leo in the eye, “because I fear that Constantine’s actions have caught up with us all.”

----

Edgewater the next day

A three-hour flight and an uneasy night spent in London, Hana was finally afforded her first glimpse of Edgewater. Her research into the Countess’ family revealed that the estate had been in their family for almost as long as their line had existed. A part of her relished the chance to visit a historical site with such deep and tangible roots (their collection of art and other artefacts alone would be enormous! Hana felt giddy just thinking about it). Another part was almost jumping up and down in excitement at the thought of seeing her first true friend once more. It was almost enough to drown the small part of her that wonders whether Liam already knew the truth. The presence of Bastien at the entrance did not help soothe her nerves. 

The car slowed to a stop. Bastien walked over and opened the car door, offering a hand as he did so. Hana hesitated for a moment, doubts swirling around her mind, before taking Bastien’s hand and stepping out of the car. 

One of the staff members must have been waiting on the other side of the doors as it swung open when she had finally righted herself. She could make out a line of staff through the doorway. Her promise to Leo rang in her mind once more.

With one final glance around the lush grounds and the impressive estate (Georgian, she noted with interest), Hana took a deep breath and stepped forward, through the threshold and into Edgewater.

Hana would be the first to admit that she had always viewed Cassandra through rose-tinted lenses. She was Hana’s first true friend, the woman who helped her stand up for herself. Cassie was the adventurous sister she had always wanted. And for a few short months, they had been sisters in all but blood.

Now, four years and a whole other set of separate experiences later, Hana once again meets Cassandra. Her hair’s shorter, Hana thought absently. The face that stared back at her was slightly more mature than the one she remembered. Hana only had the chance to observe those things as Cassandra, who spotted her as soon as she entered, broke into a smile and all but bounded over to give Hana a big hug. Hana hugged her tightly back, a smile blooming on her own face. It was the reunion that she had envisioned all these years.

“Hana! I missed you so much!”

“Oh, Cassie! I missed you too!”

-

Lucas may look like the spitting image of his father, but Hana can’t help but see the Cassie in him. He was an inquisitive child, bursting with questions and with enough energy to drive Hana dizzy after a time. 

He had been a little hesitant when they had finally been introduced. He had been head peeking behind Liam’s legs when Cassie and Hana had reunited (At last! After four long years!) but he had warmed up to her when Cassie introduced her as a dear friend.

“Do you like cookies?” the little boy (the little prince!) asked Hana during a rare moment of silence. He stared at her with Liam’s eyes and with Cassie’s smile. The perfect little blend of her two dearest friends. She thought of the discoveries done in Cordonia, both before and after he arrived in their lives. Her heart went out to this little boy. Your grandfather’s actions have hurt so many. He unknowingly hurt you too…

“I – yes, I like cookies.”

He beamed at her, and Hana returned it with a smile of her own. How could she not?

“Me too!” he held out a chocolate chip cookie with a noticeable bite at its side. “D’you want one?”

Despite the apprehension that took root inside her, Hana let out a laugh.

“I’d like that very much.”

-

“So you’re telling me—“

Hana nodded. Cassie clapped both hands to her mouth as she gasped.

“Hana!” she squealed.

Hana blushed and quickly hushed Cassandra while she looked around the empty garden.

“But this is huge!” Cassie protested.

“It’s not a big deal,” Hana said softly, almost mumbling.

“But you and Kiara!”

Hana smiled despite herself.

“Oh, you got it bad,” Cassie teased.

Hana suppressed a snort. “Like you’re one to talk.”

Cassie laughed, loud and whole-bodied. Hana’s restraint lasted for one second before she gave in and joined the laughter.

A throat clearing behind them put a stop to their revelry. They both whirled around to see Liam smiling at them both.

“Is he down?” Cassie asked.

“After putting up a good fight, yes.”

Cassie raised her eyebrows, her smile quickly turning into a smirk. “You didn’t bribe him, did you?”

Liam scoffed, his smile turning bigger, “I’ve been schooled in diplomacy since birth, Cassie. I don’t need to resort to bribery just to get my son to take a nap.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow, “uh-huh…”

Now this feels familiar, Hana thought, amused.

“… fine. He will definitely ask to sleep in my room later. I might have promised to build a pillow fort with him.”

Cassie laughed, and Hana couldn’t help but join in. The day was devoid of the heavy clouds one usually associates with London. There was a pleasant breeze, bringing with it the perfume of the blossoms scattered about the garden. Halcyon days, Hana thought with a heavy feeling in her stomach. So rare and so brief. And I might have brought disaster with me…

----

Edgewater, night time

Aunt Clara’s office was bathed in shadows. The moon, barely visible over the top of the trees, did not offer much in the way of illumination. Not tonight, anyway. The fireplace was cold and empty, and only a couple of lamps kept total darkness at bay. Despite the hindrances that the dark might have presented, Cassandra was able to navigate her way through the room. 

A few portraits of their ancestors were displayed on the walls; Auntie always liked landscapes better. Cassandra could almost feel the weight of their stares. It made the humid air feel heavier than it should be. 

Her eyes landed on the jewels. It had been taken out of the display box for its cleaning. Now they were placed on the desk, in a bed of soft cloth, under the watchful eyes of one Clara Mills-Sinclaire. Her portrait looked nothing like her Aunt Clara, of course, but the way they lifted their chin and stared defiantly at the world echoed each other. Nestled on her ancestor’s head was the same tiara on the desk before her.

Cassie looked down at the jewels once more. Such a small thing, to carry so much history. Cassandra looked up at the portrait again. You didn’t run when the responsibility fell on you. She thought of her son, asleep and snug in his father’s arms. Cassandra wants more nights like that. Her family together. She eyed the jewels again, resolve building itself inside her. I don’t want to run anymore.

With trembling hands, she hesitantly reached for the tiara. Carefully, feeling the weight of her ancestors on her, she lifted the tiara and slowly, delicately placed it on her head. It was lighter than she had expected. Moments passed, and she chanced a look at a nearby mirror. Cassie stared. The tiara had fit her perfectly. 

----

Cordonia the next day

Still flush from her victory over Madeleine, Kiara strode through the corridors that led to her office. That’s one obstacle out of the way. Although, I suspect Liam would want a chat with Adelaide…

A glance towards her secretary’s desk told her that Justin, or whatever his name actually is, hasn’t arrived yet. The morning sunlight made the room glow. Outside, the sky was clear, and she had removed a thorn on their side. Things are looking up and Hana’s set to come back with Liam and Lady Cassandra in the evening. Perhaps they will bring their son with them…

With a smile, Kiara opened the door to the office.

She froze.

Leaning over her desk, papers and other state documents in hand, was her secretary. He looked up as she entered, face twisted in a snarl. 

For a moment they stood still, surprise making them freeze in place. 

Kiara stood still, rooted on the spot, heart thundering in her chest. Justin held her gaze, something dark and sinister in his eyes.

Then time seemed to move once more, faster than it usually is.

Kiara tried to step backwards, perhaps hoping to gain more ground before the predator pounced. 

But Justin was faster.

In a flash, he had leapt across the table, scattering papers and other knick-knacks as he did so. Kiara faintly heard a glass scatter on the floor.

Before she could do more than stumble back, Justin was on her.

Something flashed silver before pain erupted on her side. Something heavy collided with her head. 

The world seemed to blur. Sound seemed to fade.

The last thing she saw before her face met the floor was a pair of angry dark eyes, and a smile that resembled a snarl.

----

Gatwick Airport, England

The walls were too white. The room was too bright. Liam resisted the urge to pace. A hand on his back made him tense. A whiff of jasmine caught his attention.

Tension bled out of his body. Her arms wrap around him. He could feel her warmth on his back. Her head barely reached his shoulders.

“Breathe, Liam.”

He did as she asked. He’ll always do as she asked.

He gently turned around and wrapped his own arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. For a moment the world seemed to quiet down.

“Better?”

Liam leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Cassandra’s lips.

“Much.”

They both looked up as the PA announced their flight was ready. Reluctantly, they untangled themselves from each other. Liam scooped up his son’s sleepy form from one of the lounge chairs. His movement caused Hana to wake up from the nap Cassie suggested. He glanced around the private lounge. All their bags were already on the royal jet.

His eyes landed on Cassandra. He saw her spare one last look through the lounge’s window, a faraway look in her eyes. She pocketed her phone, grasped her trusty messenger bag (the one she had since before they met) and took a deep breath.

Liam crossed the distance between them and reached for her hand. She took it and laced their fingers together.

With one hand holding the love of his life and the other supporting his sleeping son, Liam walked towards the boarding gates.

----

The Dowager Queen

The setting sun caused shadows to stretch across the tarmac. Inside the tinted limousine, the Queen Mother heaved a sigh. The day had been taken a turn that none of them had expected. At least Liam’s finally coming back.

To be honest, Regina was a bit hurt that Liam had not deigned to inform her he was travelling out of the country or the reason behind it. Even an informal email would have done. Or any form of message really, however impersonal it may have looked.  She was probably the last person to find out he had gone. I can’t say I can fault him for that. Not after years of passive non-action from my end.

But still…

Regina firmly reigned her thoughts in. She will take what she can salvage from their relationship. After all, she got along with Liam better than she did with Leo. She already made the mistake of being cold towards Katie when they first met and that resulted in her not meeting her grandchildren when they were born. She won’t make the same mistake this time.

But then again, it helps that Liam chose a more competent lady than Leo, circumstances aside. Lady Cassandra could have done well in court, had she stayed all those years ago. Had Constantine not let his paranoia rule him.

No matter. I’ll gladly welcome Liam’s long-lost son and his lady love. It’s the least she can do, really. Besides, Regina liked the idea of more grandchildren. Thank goodness Leo was more flexible in that matter. She had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with his twin daughters.

Regina smiled. Such precocious children! She had already made plans to introduce darling Sabrina to Joelle. Such talent should be encouraged and fostered. And from what she and her staff had gathered from the English Ambassador, Liam’s son – Lucas — was also a bright boy. Regina looks forward to meeting him in person this time.

The shadows lengthened as the sun sunk lower. The royal jet should be near now. Shadows and the twilight had always reminded her of her late husband. Shadows especially.

Oh Connie, so much has been lost because you were afraid. We could have seen our grandchildren grow up together. Your son would have had more time with his own son.

Four years ago

Constantine had been more stubborn than usual. It was so unlike him to get worked up on courtly intrigue, since he usually left such things under her purview.

“But the media’s focused on the engagement right now. I don’t see any harm in letting her come back. It was a misunderstanding at most. I’ll even take her under my wing—“

“No.”

“But Liam—“

“Would be better off if he focused on his own engagement tour. Bringing her back would only distract him.”

She looked at her husband in astonishment, “have you seen how he is right now? Constantine, your son is falling apart! Bringing Lady Cassandra back would do him good. It’s not as if they can change the engagement now—“

Constantine slammed his fist on the desk. Regina jumped, then froze. His eyes were cold with a fury that she had only heard of years ago. Fear churned inside her.

“I said no, Regina! And that is final!”

She had not tried to change his mind since. Not even when she saw how Liam struggled with juggling the crown and his own heartache. And while a part of her felt reassured that Madeleine was chosen as queen once more, it is becoming quickly overshadowed by concern as she watched cracks appear on Liam’s mask. She had tried to offer whatever comfort Liam would accept from her. It helped salvage her relationship with her stepson.

It did not help her relationship with her husband on the other hand.

But she dared not oppose Constantine too much. She knew the fate of his previous wives all too well. And she won’t be any help to Liam or to anybody if she joined that exclusive club. She knew what she married, after all. Or at least some part of it. She dared not look further, dared not put a toe out of line. Scared to peer into the shadow and see what lurked within.

The approaching jet snapped Regina from her musing. She smiled. As the jet landed, and the doors opened and she stepped out of the car, Regina resolves that she’ll do better this time. After all, this is a chance she dared not waste.

#

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Always Be My Driver - A RoD Rom-Com [Colt x MC/Logan x MC]. CH 3

Book : RIDE OR DIE

PAIRING : Colt x MC/ Logan x MC

SUMMARY: Emma and Colt have been childhood best friends since forever, they were both inseparable. In middle school they became something more but when Colt had to move with his mom away from LA all the way to Miami, things started to change between them. A small misunderstanding leads to the end of their relationship. Years later they meet again at the most unlikely place. Will Emma and Colt be able to mend what has been broken between them? Or will it continue to crash and burn?

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 3500 ish..

Chapter Summary: Now that Colt is back and spending the whole summer at the shop, will things get better between him and Emma?

A/N : So this chapter was sort of inspired by an episode of FRIENDS. If you’re a big fan of the comedy series than you know why. 😬 Also this is a dialogue heavy chapter. Plus I hope you can look past my grammatical errors, which must be a lot cause I haven’t done much polishing.

Warning/Triggers : Pretty safe PG-13 stuff... for now.. *Evil laughs here* But just to be safe make sure you’re 18 and above before you read this series.

Catch up with the series HERE

Dear Diary,

This past year has been awesome. I met the most amazing guy, who I am so in love with and best part is he loves me back. Made a few awesome new friends along the way, got in to the perfect school, kept up good grades, won a lot of races.. you get the whole idea.

But see here’s the thing, just when you think things are perfect, life somehow manages to find a way and kick you in the gut. Yes I’m talking about a recent visit of a certain someone from my past. Colt Kaneko. As if meeting your ex boyfriend who you haven’t seen in like forever wasn’t weird enough. Now we have to live under the same roof for the entire summer.

That’s not even the worst part, the worst part is he acts like I don’t exist. The only time he talks to me is when he has something snarky to say other than that he completely ignores me. I mean it’s not like I care. This first time I noticed this was when Colt came walking into the garage asking for a sharpie. I offered to borrow him mine, I tried to be the mature one by offering him an olive branch and you know what he did?! He gave me the look and said he’d just buy a new one from the store. I literally had on right there in front of him and he just.. He is acting like I was the bad guy and was responsible for us breaking up.

Logan doesn’t know about our history at least the part where we dated. He already can’t stand Colt, why should I stir the pot hot on something that happened when we were kids. It’s not like I’m still in love with Colt Kaneko.

I’m not in love with Colt Kaneko.

[[MORE]]

A few days later..

Okay Emma this is your chance, just walk up to him and ask him what’s his problem. You’ve tried to be nice but if he is gonna be a jerk about it..

“Colt.”

He turns around then raises an eyebrow at her.

Why are you being such an asshole to me?

“The customer with the broken tail light wants to know if his car is already fixed?”

“I’ll be out to see him in a minute.” He answers flatly.

“Ok, cool I’ll let him know.” Well that worked out great.

****

A week later..

Colt slumps on the couch in the backroom reading the latest edition of top gear while Mona sat across him busy texting on her phone when Toby enters. “Hey Colt, Mona. Ximena and I are heading out for lunch. Wanna come?”

“I just ate so I’m gonna sit this one out.” Mona replies and shift her focus back to her phone.

“Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do here anyway.” Colt responds then tosses the Megazine on the table.

“Anyone saw Logan and Emma?”

Logan and Emma walks in with their face flush and hands entwined, Emma giggles at something that Logan whispers in her ear. Colt rolled his eyes at the sight and pretends to scroll on his phone, anything to avoid looking at the two.

“Oh. Hey didn’t notice you guys were here.”

“Great timing we were just looking for both of you. Where have the two of you been?” Ximena asks raising an eyebrow at them while folding her arms.

Emma and Logan gave each other coy smiles. “We were at the loft.. getting some workout done. Gotta stay healthy these days you know.”

“Right…” Ximena answer in a skeptical voice. “So we’re about to go out for lunch. You two want to join us?”

“Oh that sounds awesome. What do you say babe?” She turns and beams at Logan.

“Yeah sure I could use a bite to eat after all that workout.” He replies emphasizing on the word followed by a grin.

Colt gave a sarcastic eye roll again. “I think I just lost my appetite.” He mutters under his breath but it was enough for Mona who’s sitting near him to hear. She raises her eyebrow but doesn’t say anything at least not yet.

“So it’s settled.. Oh I call shotgun!” Toby beams excitedly and heads for the door, the others follow behind. “Colt, aren’t you coming?” Ximena asked.

“Nah.. You guys go ahead. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do anyway.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have anything better to do a few minutes ago.” Mona pressed.

“Yeah, well I do now.” Colt retorts giving Mona glaring look.

“Alright if you say so..” and left with the others leaving Colt and Mona behind. Colt grabs the TV remote from the coffee table, surfing the channels to avoid having a conversation with Mona.

“So, What’s the deal between your and korean barbie?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb Colt, we both know you’re too smart for that. Now spill the beans or I’ll find out myself one way or the other.” She demanded with her arms crossed.

“Honestly Mona it’s none of your business. And why do you care so much?” He seethes.

Mona snorts a laugh. “I don’t.. But I like knowing things because knowing things gives you leverage. So talk junior.”

“We were friends and now we’re not. End of story, now leave me alone.” He abruptly stood up and starts walking towards the door.

“Colt,wait! I don’t know what went down between you and Emma but that was a long time ago, you were just kids and she’s been trying to reconcile since you got her.” She heaves a sigh. “All I’m saying is you’ve been friends before and I’m sure there were more good times than bad. Emma is a pretty good friend, hell don’t tell her I said this but she’s a great friend. And a friendship with her isn’t worth losing over some silly fight you had as kids.”

Colt gave Mona a thoughtful look. Who knew Mona had a soft side. I hate to admit it but maybe she’s right? He shook his head and without a word walks out, closing the door behind him.

****

A few nights later..

“Emma, oh thank God. Listen what ever happened we can fix this okay. Just talk to me please.” Colt pleaded his voice cracking.

“Colt, I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to hear excuses. We’re over for good. I’ve changed my number so don’t bother trying to contact me you won’t get through. Goodbye Colt, I hope you’ll be happy there.”

“Emma, wait!”

“How could you?”

She turns around and sees.. “Logan?”

“How could you lie to me Em, I thought we promised each other no more secrets.”

“Logan, what are you talking about?”

“I think we need a break and probably shouldn’t see each other for awhile.”

“What? Logan no wait!”

Emma wakes up covered in sweat trying to catch her breath. Logan lying next to her with her head on his chest, she could feel his chest gently rise and fall as he breathes.

She heaves a sigh of relief. It was just a bad dream.

The sound of thunder rumbling, echoes through the night sky and catches her attention.

Great as if the nightmares weren’t enough now there’s rain and thunder outside.

She closes her eyes and tries to go back to sleep but between the rumbling noise of the thunder and thinking about the dream of Colt and Logan, it just made her insomnia go into overdrive.

This is so frustrating! I can’t sleep! maybe I need some milk or a late night snack.

She gently moves Logan’s arm, careful not to wake him. She puts on a pair of bunny slippers and slip out of the room, slowly closing the door behind her before heading down stairs.

*****

The whole place was extremely quiet since everyone was asleep, the only sound she could hear was the loud continuous sound of thunder crashing in the background. She opens the door to the back room and sees Colt bending down in front of the microwave.

“Colt?”

Colt jumps at the sound of Emma’s voice with one hand pressed to his chest. “Christ! Emma you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing down here at this hour?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She said and saunters over to the island, taking a seat on the stool. “What are you doing making popcorn at this hour?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Why would anyone make popcorn?” Colt replies in a flat voice. “So what’s got you up at this hour? Prince charming a loud snorer or something?”

“I’ll have you know he sleeps like a baby.”

“So he cries in his sleep a lot?” He grinned.

Emma rolls her eyes at him. “This was a bad idea, I’m going back to bed.” She got off the bar stool and turns toward the door.

“Em, wait.” He stops her before she could leave. Emma turns back to face him. “What now Colt?” Her voice flat when she answers. This better not be another snarky comment about Logan.

Colt nervously rubs the back of his neck. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Look if you want, you can watch the movie with me and I’ll even share my popcorn. It’s.. melted butter and caramel.”

Damn it, that’s my favorite! Emma crosses her arms giving him a skeptical look. “What’s the catch?”

“Why’d you think there’s a catch?”

“Uh… I don’t know maybe cause you’ve been sort of a jerk and Ignoring me since you’ve got here?”

“I wasn’t being a jerk. I was just… Look do you want to watch the movie or not? Decide before I change my mind.”

Well I can’t sleep so might as well, nothing wrong with watching a movie right? “Ok fine. Only because melted butter and caramel is my favorite.” She replies and saunters over to take a seat on the couch.

Colt joins her a few seconds later handing her the bowl of popcorn.“So what are we watching?” She asked while nibbling on a piece of popcorn in her hand.

”The Conjuring.” He murmured while looking through the options on the screen.

“The what?!” She belted sitting up right from her slouched position. “There’s a real scary thunderstorm out there and you want to add to the terror by watching a horror movie?”

“It adds a cool effect to the experience Em.” He emphasized then gave her a questioning look. “You’re not still afraid of some silly storm after all these years?”

Emma throws her body back on the couch, her eyes focused on the popcorn that she keeps stuffing in her mouth.

Colt snorts a laugh. “Really Em? I thought you’d outgrow this silly fear by now.”

“I’m not afraid anymore but that doesn’t mean I like it either. Not everyone can be as cool as you Colt.” She said and gave a sarcastic eye roll.

“There first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.” He grinned.

“Can we just get this over with already? But I'm warning you if some scary shit goes down I’m jumping right at you.”

Colt shrugged. “Fine, whatever.”

The movie played on for about thirty minutes and the two watched it in silence sitting Five inches apart from each other. There were a few awkward moments in between like their hands accidentally touching while trying to grab some popcorn, both quickly shy away as they did..

As the movie progressed and got scarier Emma started to move closer to Colt closing the gap from three to two inches, her hands nervously fidgets with a lock of her hair. Colt noticed this from the corner of his eye and grinned. Damn it, she's still cute when she gets flustered. He subtly shift his body closer to her and clears his throat. “So um, how long have you been with Logan?” He bit his tongue and cringed as soon as he heard the words come out from his mouth.

“A little over a year now.” She answered. “It was at Billy’s party during senior year.”

“Billy? As in big bully Billy? Shouldn’t he have graduated by then?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“The very same, he got held back for failing a few classes. Anyway Logan was there to deliver a car to Brent. Long story short that’s how we met.” She explained and stuff a few more popcorn in her mouth.

“Hey remember that one time you kicked Billy in the nuts?” Colt recalled grinning.

Emma chuckled. “How could I forget, he was going to punch you for calling him a wuss and I guess.. My self defense instinct just kicked in.”

Colt gave a half shrug. “I could have taken him you know..”

The two shared a look before eventually bursting into laughter at the memory of that day. And there it was the sound Colt didn’t realize he missed so much until that moment. It was the sound of her laughter.

Their laughter slowly fades and there was a minute of silence before Emma decides to broach the question back. “So uh.. What about you? Do you have someone special waiting for you back in college?”

Colt gives half shrug.“I don’t really do relationships. I mean I’ve dated a bunch but nothing serious.”

“Oh. Yeah sure I completely understand.” Change the subject Emma you just made progress don’t blow it.

The two continued to chatting and laughing at stories basically ignoring the whole movie. “I really miss this you know... just talking to you.” She confeses giving him a sincere smile. “I miss talking to you too.”

A piece of popcorn got caught on Emma’s long rose gold hair and Colt reaches his hand out to take it. “You um. You have some popcorn stuck on your hair.” He said, his fingers brushed against her cheeks and there was this intense gaze between them for a moment, Emma could feel her cheeks start to blush. Shit Em look away before you do something stupid. Emma tilts her head down, averting her eyes from Colt. “We um—. Should get back to watching the movie.”

Colt blinks and shakes his head. “Yeah totally.” He agreed but there was a slight disappointment to his tone. He leans back on the couch, looking at the TV then back at Emma.

“Hey, so there’s The Conjuring 2 if you want to watch it after this?”

It was well after 2am, the rain was still heavy outside and she found the first movie one scary as shit but somehow Emma didn’t want their time together to end so soon.

“I’d like that.”

The two continued to chat as they watched the movie, both making snarky comments when a character in the movie was being stupid, sometimes debating about what the whole thing was about.

“What’s with the Nun, is it a ghost or something?” Emma asked curiously.

“It’s not really a ghost, it’s a demon. They actually already did the origin story about it.”

There was a sudden loud sound of thunder outside the building at the same time a frightening scene from the movie appeared, Emma instinctive moves right next to Colt, her hands clutching onto his arm while she buries her face in his chest.

Oh.my.god did I just bury my face in Colt’s chest? Damn it, why does he smell so good. Well this just got awkward. Maybe he didn’t notice.

She tilts her chin up and sees Colt looking at her cocking an eyebrow. “Sorry.. Reflexes” She said in a shaky voice. “Do. Do you mind?

“It’s alright.” He grinned.

Emma sits right up and raises an eyebrow at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just..I think it’s cute that you’re still afraid of a little thunder after all these years.”

“Shut up, Colt.” She said then playfully swats him on the shoulder before leaning back right next to him. Colt wiggles his arm from behind her back and wraps it around her shoulders just like old times whenever they would watch a movie together. “If you’re gonna lean on me at least give my arm somewhere comfortable to rest.”

It wasn’t long before the two eventually fell asleep laying on the couch. Colt had one arm wrapped around Emma as she lay her head on his chest.

They wake up a few hours later as the sunlight pierce through the window hitting their eyes. Colt slowly rubs his eyes and lets out a yawn, when he finally opens them he sees Emma fluttering her eyes open. Both still feeling half asleep.

Shit! Did we just fall asleep on the couch together? Damn, I forgot how cute she looks when she’s tired. Okay, play it cool like it’s no big deal.

“Morning.” He smiled.

Shit, did I just fall asleep in Colt’s arms? He’s so warm and comfortable to sleep on. Not that Logan isn’t.. Oh shit he just said good morning to me. Is he freaked out? He doesn’t seem freaked out. Play it cool Emma.

“Morning.” She sheepishly smiled back.

“Ahem!” Mona croaked.

Emma and Colt’s eyes go wide open when they realize they weren’t alone. They turn their heads to see Mona grinning with her arms folded, Ximena with her hands on her waist and Toby munching on some fruit loops.

They both sit up with a jolt, the other three continue to stand and stare. “We um… Anyone hungry?” Emma nervously chuckles, getting up from the couch. “I could really go for some omelettes and bacon.”

“I need to use the bathroom.” Colt mentions and excuses himself from the bathroom.

“So this is going to be a whole thing now?” Toby murmurs to the other two ladies.

“Apparently…” Mona replies with a grin. “Now let the games begin.”

*****

It was quiet around the table as the five ate their breakfast, so quiet that Mona could hear the sound of Toby’s teeth crushing the fruit loops in his mouth from across the table. Colt was seated in front of Emma and Mona between them, her eyes move back and forth at the two, who were awkwardly trying to avoid looking at each other for a second there they failed but quickly move their gaze away.

Ugh… Watching these two is more depressing than that finally episode of Game of Thrones. I wonder what’s going on in their heads?

What were you thinking Colt? Last night was a mistake, you weak son of a bitch! It only takes one smile.. One smile and suddenly she’s all I can think about. Who am I kidding I’ve been thinking about her since that night at the sideshow and that was before I knew who she was. It’s like we're magnets and there’s this strong force trying to pull us together.

He quickly tries to get a glance at her and it’s as if she could read his mind, she tilts her head up and gazes back at him. They both quickly avert their eyes mere seconds later. Colt shakes his head.

No You can’t do this, she broke your heart Colt. There’s a reason why You have all these walls up and You don’t plan on letting them down anytime soon. Just get through this summer as friends and nothing else. After that you won’t have to see her again.

Emma you’re such an idiot, falling asleep with Colt Kaneko, even if it wasn’t intentional and you didn’t do anything wrong but still! Why, after everything that’s happened between us, last night hanging out, it somehow still feels like home when we’re together. No! No! Get yourself together Emma you have a boyfriend who’s sweet and kind, who loves you and would never break your heart. OMG! I forgot about Logan, he already hates Colt’s guts. I can’t imagine what he would do if he found out and not just about falling asleep on the couch thing but about our history. I haven’t told him yet about the part where we dated at least and I don’t know if I should, Colt’s only going to be here for the summer then he’s back to wherever he came from. We can get through this few weeks as friends. Hmm.. Honestly I’m surprised Colt hasn’t said anything to him, since he seems to like getting into Logan’s skin.

“Morning.” Logan announces himself as he enters. He glares at Colt before taking a seat on the empty chair next to Emma.

“Morning beautiful.” He grins and kissing her on the lips. She could see Colt roll his eyes from the corner of her eye but pretends to ignore it.

“You’re dressed early today?” She smiled

“Boss needs me to get somethings done today, thought I get an early start.” He pauses to look at her. “Why aren’t you dressed? You’re usually the one who gets ready before I do.”

“Yeah.. Umm… I decided to take it slow today. Bacon?” She offers Logan a piece on her fork and he takes a bite, moaning as he did. Colt merely oggles at the site, if he keeps it up at this rate he is going to get a headache before noon.

“Aw how sweet, I’m not even pregnant and I suddenly got morning sickness just by looking at the two of you.” Mona said in a sarcastic tone.

“You jealous Mona?” Logan sneered.

Okay time to stir up some tension. Mona pretends to clear her throat. “So Colt, I heard you slept well last night. How bout you Emma? How did you sleep?”

Emma slightly chokes on her orange juice and tries to kick Mona under the table but hits Colt instead.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Colt bellowed and quirks an eyebrow at Emma.

“Sorry.. Hrk.. reflexes.” She apologizes trying to compose herself, her eyes fixed on Mona with a glare.

“Babe, you alright?” Logan asks in a concerned voice, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Yeah… I’m fine… totally..” I mean I fell asleep in the arms of the boy I once loved but other than that totally fine. Emma replied trying to hide how nervous she was. “I um.. need to get ready. I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Sure. I’ll be missing you till then.” Logan leans in to kiss her but she quickly gets up before he manages to. At the same time Colt gets up from his seat and walks out the opposite way.

Logan looks curiously at the group that were still seated at the table. “Did something happen while I was asleep? Everyone’s been acting weird all morning.”

“You’re reading into things too much pretty boy, nothing happened.” She answers trying to hide a grin on her face. Not yet anyway.

****

********

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