#oh yeah & Chase went to Hell & got corrupted into a demon

[dhampiravidi]

"I know I should let you go, but I can't bear the thought of living without you." (And, lastly, a lil' Cass and Caleb heartbreaking au scene :) )

He shouldn'tve said that. That was irresponsible of him, to be saying that to her when she was the one sobbing and tugging at his shirt, pleading for him to go into hiding with her and their friends.

"Cass. Cassia, stop." It was supposed to come out as a hiss or a snap, something mean so she'd want to let go of him. Caleb forced himself to look away, to Ipswich burning in the distance and then over to Pogue, who was waiting by his motorcycle--a blue one. Yellow motorcycles reminded him of the beating that'd landed him in the hospital years before. Caleb locked eyes with Pogue and the two had a silent conversation, the last of many that they'd shared over the long time they'd known each other. Then Caleb looked back down at his girlfriend. "Cassia, I love you. But I gotta go." She'd buried herself in his shirt, right next to the dried patch of Reid's blood. Pogue pulled her out, and all the way back to his bike. She screamed, but she let him. That was the thing about Cass: she always let you be who you were and loved you for it. No matter what.

Caleb watched as Pogue got her on his Ducati, putting the helmet on her head for safety. She'd need it--the apocalypse had just been halted, after all. She sat down first, and Pogue got on behind her, driving towards town. There were still people that needed help evacuating since the fires had touched pretty much every part of town. Ironically, Danvers Manor would be one of the only places in Ipswich that remained.

"You really meant that, didn't you?" Caleb's jaw clenched right as his hands turned to fists. Chase.

"I did, yeah."

"How sweet. Well, the good news is, you won't have to live without her." The demon appeared in front of him, fangs making his shark-like grin even worse. Chase hadn't aged a day, but most of his hair had burnt away. His nails had grown into black claws, his eyes became a blank white, horns broke the skin on his forehead, and patches of scales randomly decorated his body.

"Caleb!" SHIT. Cassia had teleported back, back to where Pogue had been standing. Chase didn't even look at her. He just smiled even wider.

"Say cheese, Caleb. Your girlfriend's watching." There was a sudden, sharp pain, and Cassia cried out like she'd been slapped. But she wasn't the one Chase had chosen. The demon took pleasure in squeezing the weakly-beating heart he'd snatched as the witch girl sank to her knees in disbelief. Caleb stumbled forward, and Chase caught him with his free hand. "You didn't say cheese. Disappointing, hubby," he whispered.

---

Caleb woke with a gasp. He immediately went to feel that his heart was, in fact, still in his chest. It was, but unfortunately, his heartbeat was still racing, and it took a minute or two before he could even breathe properly. He moved to sit on the side of the bed and muffled a scream with his pillow, eyes beginning to tear up. Once he'd stopped trembling, and the afterimage of Chase's grin had left his mind, he went for his cell phone, checking for texts. There was just one.

[Jayn, 15 min ago]: Are you OK?

She must've heard him screaming, or...something like that. After all, her room was right next to his. He texted her back.

[Caleb]: Yeah. Bad dream. I'm OK 🙂

He wondered if she could hear the screaming in the emoji's frozen smile, he thought with a sigh. It was 3 AM, so she might not come to his room, but she'd ask him about it later on during breakfast. Would she tell Cassia?

The echo of her scream was still in his head. He went to their last conversation and stared at the six letters that formed her name. Caleb still hadn't told her (or Jayn) anything about Chase. The other guys hadn't either, because if they had, she would have come to him asking questions. He was the one who had fought Chase and came out with two deaths on his conscience. But that was the thing--Chase was dead. No, the firefighters hadn't found his body, and neither had the Sons. They'd made a pact to keep from Using for three whole days, just so that any bit of the Power floating out there could be definitively traced back to one source. Reid kept his promise, as did Pogue and Ty. Caleb was pretty sure they did it because they felt bad for him, though. His mom, Gorman, sort of Sarah before she cut her losses and left--they all felt bad for him.

Caleb wasn't used to people giving him that look. Sad eyes, no words. He didn't want that from Jayn or Cass. So they didn't need to know. Chase wasn't coming back.

Hopefully, Caleb would convince himself of that one day.

[Caleb, to Cass]: I love you ♥

It wasn't the most romantic way to tell her that he'd fallen for her, but he'd make it up to her later. He put his phone back on the nightstand and got under the covers, eyes open. He'd had enough dreams for one night.

[the-hellhounds]

"How many days has it been?" Baekhyun asks as he laid on the stone floor. Letting the younger guys have the stone beds, he was getting to know them all as time went by.

The cage that held the captive hounds that were being captured by the corrupted hell hound was slowly growing crowded. Each time one would fall, they were brought and thrown into the cage with the others.

"I think it's been months at this point, mate." Chan piped up from his place by the corner next to Mark who stared into the abyss. "I doubt the others will even come looking for us with how he switches back to himself."

Turning around, Kun shakes his head. Not wanting to accept that his friend had been doing such things to the pack. "He'll come to his senses. He can't be far into the void." He says.

"Kun," Kai comes over to him after trying to bust the door with Lucas. Sensing the fear seeping through his skin, he places a hand on his shoulder as he looks him in the eye. "He's already a void. That nogistune is ripping him apart each day."

"Alright, puppies." A clap is heard as the hell hound comes in with a wicked smile on his lips. "Who wants to become a soldier for me?" Showing with his hands to the demonic warriors that appeared behind him, dressed in all black with face masks covering their entire face. Only the eyes showing in a bright green color. The hell hound smirks smug of the chaos he was making with the dark evil spirit of a nogistune inside him.

"Why does this dog eat so much? He eats more than me!" Kyun huffed as he sat with Lisa while they threw slobber filled tennis balls at the big dog that she had claimed was still a pup.

"He is a puppy!" Slapping his arm, Lisa giggled as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriends arm after he let out a sound from the slap. "You just don't understand him like I do."

Letting out a snort as he grabbed the tennis ball back from Love. "I think I understand animals better than you," he says as he throws the ball again for the dog to chase after.

"Have you guys seen Johnny around?" Haechan asks as he comes over with his son waddling in front of him. Minjun holding a teething ring as his baby teeth were still coming in. "I asked him if he went to the post office and he called saying he was almost here. I really need those diapers I ordered for Minjun."

Looking to each other, the couple shake their heads as they hadn't seen the taller hound around.

"I asked him when he came to the house if he could pick up some groceries since we had a little accident inside." Lisa mentions. Kyun only glowering at Love as the dog came back with the tennis ball again. His expensive lamp in the living room gone forever in pieces by an excited dog.

"Well, if you see him. Tell him I'm looking for him, please." With that, the young father leaves the couple as he trails behind his son that waddled off.

Running over with boxes and bags of groceries, Johnny bumps into Haechan that was squat down to see what Minjun was holding. "Hey!" He smiles as he sees them. "I got your stuff." Placing down a couple boxes, he's confused by the solid stare that Haechan has until it changes quickly. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah," Haechan waves him off as he plucks the worm out of the baby's hands. "Just spacing out." He smiles, throwing the worm behind him as Minjun whines. "It's not a gummy worm, you silly puppy." Scooping up his child, he thanks Johnny as he picks up the box of diapers with his free hand and walks off leaving the tall hound wondering why Haechan had spaced out with such a frightening stare.

3 different pov's 😮‍💨 : @badbf-cb ( lisa ♥︎ ) - @fantasyaespa ( ningning ♥︎ ) - @fallenangel-oc ( staci & alya ♥︎ × ♥︎ ) - @multihyuck ( ♥︎ ) - @witch-renjunnie ( ♥︎ ) - @raiden-oc ( 🌺 ♥︎ ) @monsterhigh-cb ( jaemin ♥︎ ) - @livealittleoc-cb ( jay & ace ★ × ♠︎ ) - @k-dislyte ( moonbyul ♥︎ ) - @beaconhillsxbot - @redroom-cb - @universe-of-superm - @ateezmystery - @frathouse-cb - @kimheebby - @league-of-assassins - @angelsxdemons-cb - @dreampodcast - @kavengers-assemble - @dc-heroes-cb [dm for + or -]

[heliosthegriffin]

Infernis Dominus

An aged Cardin Winchester walks down the halls into a well decorated throne room.

The years had been good to him, the graying in his hair natural and he supported a mighty mustache and mutton chops, and even in his more advanced years he still looked as formidable as he did in his prime.

Whether it was due to his aura control, a healthy life style, or duty he was driven by, was impossible to be told and did not matter as he was as well mentally as he was physically. He would continue to serve.

He took to one knee in a bow before a marble and golden throne that was draped in blue tapestry with a pair of golden arcs in the center.

At the center of the throne was a enigma of a man, one who was both boyish, but clearly a man, young but showed age with the strands silver hairs in his golden hair and the laugh lines on his face, blues eyes that carried playful energy and harsh weight, a body that was built to destroy that was covered by heavy armor and held a dreadful sword at his side, but he carried himself with an aura of peace and warmth. Divine, but clearly a Man.

This is Jaune Arc, Lord of the Arc Covenant, Paragon of War, and Master of Conquest.

“My friend, why do you bow? It is only the two of us here.”

Cardin rose up on his feet, and waved off his comrade. “Paah, even if it is only us two I pay my respects to my superiors, circumstance must not be forgotten, otherwise discipline dies and chaos reigns.” Jaune raised a brow. “Hmm, I suppose, but I think its the stick up your ass.”

“If it’d keep you from slouching so much, I’d shove a log up yours.”

Jaune feigned pain. “Oh, such immodesty, is that anyway to speak to your king!”

“If I didn’t know you spent you’re free time in your harem chamber, or playing with those miscreants street rats you’ve taken in, I’d almost pretend to believe you.”

Jaune smirked at him. “To be fair, my wives have taken a quite the likening to them, and my brood has practically adopted them.”

Cardin shook his head in good-nature. “Oh, how are we suppose to remove you from your chambers now.”

“I suppose I shall have to move my throne in there.”

Both men then shared a laugh.

Jaune wiped a tear from his eyes. “How goes Carmine?”

“Oh, you know we’re in a stable, happy, monogamous marriage. No drama, no sleeping order, and no random bastards either.”

“Pfff, I bet you two have great sex too.”

A doopey smile ran across Cardin’s face. “Very.” 

Jaune barked out a laugh.

“Anyway, she’s happy, we’ve got a grandchild on the way soon, so she’s practically move into our’s son’s house, and using her semblance to knit everything, and has more or less got our daughter in law on house arrest.”

Jaune rolled his eyes. “That sounds like Carmine.”

“So how goes you harem, every man’s dream or so they say.”

Jaune sunk into his throne. “Exhausting, I should have never gone above six, but like an idiot I married twelve!” A wide smile broke across his face, and he opened his hand revealing a white orb of aura, where a dozen faces could be spied within. “Its damn tiring keeping up with them, trying to keep track of the hierarchy, and if it’s not a damn orgy to keep them all satisfied, it’s who gets to sleep with who. Sometimes though I have to man up and lay down the law, because at the end of the day I run this show, whether I like it or not.”

He forms another orb of aura, and another till he had twelve floating orbs, each showing a face of one of his wives as he watched them through his aura.

“I soul-bounded each one to each other and myself, I wanted them to know how honest I was about how they had a place in my heart.” With a wave of his hands the orbs shaped together to form a heart with each woman forming a piece of it. He rested a hand under his chin as he look at them. “I have to stop myself from having doubts sometimes, as they can feel it and I don’t want to worry them.”

He pulled the heart towards himself and held it between his hands. He looked at the many loves of his life. “I wouldn’t trade anyone of them,” He crushed the heart between his hands, the last look Cardin got his friends wives was a look of contentment and peace as a wave of aura washed over them.

Jaune then look at Cardin.

“So what do you have for me today? Any news about the battle front?”

Cardin then sighed. “About that, we won.”

Jaune raise a brow. “Excuse me?”

“We have done it, all land on Remnant, all known land in system as been taken by you, Sir. That was actually the reason I come to visit you today.”

“I thought you wished to converse with a long-time friend.”

“That too, anyway we’ve repelled the Grimm, and surrounded the Pools of Darkness with kill nests, any Primordial Grimm have either gone into hiding and we can kill at our leisure, or have been exterminated, the last of the planets in our system have sworn under your leadership, and finally we repelled any attempts by the Brothers and they’re minions to renter the system, not that they’ve tried very hard since you chased them off.”

Jaune smirked and thumbed his sword. “Shame, I was hoping to kill a god.”

“So, I’ve come to ask what next?”

Jaune put his hands on his sword and thought for a moment, looking out at his stain glass windows.

Cardin watch his friend with slight worry.

Ever since they met at the academy over fifty years ago, Jaune’s desire to make the world a better place and to be a hero had guided him. It’s what won Cardin and so many others over, what made him put together a militia when they found evidence of the councils corruption, what put him as the King of Vale, what made him go to war with Atlas and Mistral over the treatment of Faunus, why he put the world under his banner, why he absorbed the relics and dominated their spirits, why he killed the undying witch and put to rest the old wizard, and why he took over the solar system and cast out the gods in a duel.

What would they do with all the power in not only the world, but the solar system.

“Well, I suppose we need to make sure we can hold our territory, make sure we keep the world healthy, make sure that the other planets get along properly, and keep our strength up. Never know when the brothers or some-other gods out there will want some new ‘Congregation’. But, otherwise? I cannot say yet, for I have a pestering idea that I have yet to outline.”

“As you will it then, I shall have it done.”

“As you will then. By the way, come by again soon.”

Cardin nodded. “With Pleasure.”

“No, no, no, I’m going with pleasure!” Then Jaune walked off his throne and into his chambers. “It helps clear my mind.”

Cardin rolled his eyes. “Sure it does.”

-------

Fifteen Years later---

------

Cardin had grown slightly older, but other wise looked the same.

He was looking over piles of documents with his friends and colleagues, Lie Ren and Sun Wukong. Both of them having aged quite well, with Sun looking in his mid forties and Ren hardly touching thirty.

The doors were flung open, a wind knocking all their papers over, as Jaune strode in a broad smile on his face, still hardly having aged at all.

“Friends and Allies, I have decied our next step!”

Ren carefully rose from his seat. “What might that be?”

Jaune ripped Crocea Rexus from his sheath. “I’m glad you asked, we’re conquering hell! For too long have gods unworthy of our faith had control of our souls, no longer! We will liberate them and allow them salvation!”

Sun started clapping. “Yeah lets do this!”

Cardin raised a greying eye brow. “How might we do this though?”

“Oh ho hoh! I’ve been practicing for this question, for the last decade I have been experimenting with dimensional and spiritual barriers, and I have found I can cut them, like this!”

Jaune then took a slash at empty air causing it to twist and contort as space itself was destroyed leaving a hellish red light to fill the room, a large red hand then reach through and pulled itself out.

A gigantic demon emerged.

It then fell in half as Jaune resheathed his sword.

“Pesky creatures they are, so you boys in? I already got my militia going with me.”

Ren shook his head. “Jaune you don’t have to form a militia every time you want to overthrow something. You’re literally the king of the solar system, you have an army at your beck and call.”

“I do If I want to keep favor with the people, and honestly it’s more fun that way.”

Ren sighed in annoyance.

Cardin then got up and called his wife. “Yeah, It’s Jaune. Yep it’s a crusade, Hell, this time. I’ll be back alive or you’ll kick my ass, love you too.”

“I take you’re all accepting?”

“You know it!”

“Someone has to keep you in line.”

“What he said.”

Jaune then raise his sword and rushed into Hell, his Militia outside following as he screamed. “Glorious!”

AN: I am so annoyed, this is second time I had to write this because the first time I wrote it, It got deleted because I had accidentally hit the inspect button and it all went down the pipe.

[mypoisonedvine]

Deliverance (Demon!August Walker x Angel!Reader)

for the shared prompt also being filled by: @penwieldingdreamer @ladyreapermc @hnryycvll @toomanystoriessolittletime @yoursecretsmutblog @onceiwasanun​

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: Explicit

You were never very good at reading people's intentions.  You had always been taught to see the good in people-- wasn't that supposed to be your job?

Well, perhaps it wasn't anymore.  You'd given everything you had to become a guardian angel and you'd lost it all.  Your assigned mortal had trusted the wrong person, so you trusted him, too.  You knew he was troubled but she always went back to him and you gave him the benefit of the doubt because it was easier and it seemed like the heavenly thing to do, at the time.

"Protecting people is not so simple," Mīkhāʼēl explained.  "It requires a discerning instinct."

"But I was just trying to be good!  I wanted to trust him, and believe he could change!"

He sighed and crossed his arms.  "Some people can't be trusted, and certainly can't be changed."

"I thought that second chances were integral to our philosophy," you defended.  "Forgiveness.  Sympathy.  Turning the other cheek."

"And how many times did she turn her cheek before he killed her, huh?  How many chances did she give him?" he barked.  You slumped into your chair in humiliation.  You'd let her die, it was your fault.  "What do you think it is we do here, Angel?  What do you think your role is in all this?"

You shrugged nervously.

"You don't know?"

You looked down.  This was humiliating, and Mīkhāʼēl had always scared you a bit.

"Allow me to make it abundantly clear," he frowned.  "We are at war.  What we do is warfare.  Heaven is not operating against a neutral landscape.  We are fighting, daily, against the forces of Hell.  It is an active, not passive, duty to protect and guide humanity.  It requires the use of force, even violence."

You jumped up in protest.  "Violence?!  But… but that's evil--!"

He grabbed you suddenly, and your words stopped with a yelp.  "Don't you understand?" he hissed. "Good is weak, it is defenseless.  Evil is the only way to protect what is good."

That was how you ended up suspended and stuck in the human world for a week as punishment.  You weren’t sure if you would still be a guardian angel when you got back, but at this point you were just focused on getting back, regardless of what would be waiting for you there.  Being mortal felt very uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” a deep and velvety voice asked from behind you.  You turned with a gasp to see a striking man-- tall, muscular, unnervingly handsome-- looking at you with confusion and sympathy.

“Oh, it’s-- it’s nothing,” you stammered, looking away.

“Well, when I see a beautiful woman crying all alone at night, it’s hardly nothing to me,” he replied, sitting down next to you.  You smiled and rubbed the back of your neck.  

“Oh, well I--” you began, but he interrupted you.

“What’s your name, darling?”

For the first time in a while, you had no idea how to answer.  You figured that he wouldn’t respond well to an ancient name, in a language that didn’t exist-- in a language that never existed.

“Uh…” you mumbled. “Angel.  My name is Angel.” He grinned.  “That’s perfect.”

~

How you ended up in his apartment, leaning against his wall and waiting for him to brew you a coffee, you couldn’t really remember.  Well, you could remember-- he asked you, you said yes, he drove you in an automobile-- but the reasoning behind the actions was impossible to explain.  On every level, this seemed like a bad idea.  And yet, your instincts told you to trust him, that he was safe.  His eyes were so kind, and his touch was gentle and occasional.

You told him you were crying because you’d lost your job but you left it at that.  Somehow he knew the perfect thing to say, exactly how to comfort you.  His hand rubbed your arm and you felt comforted, but you also knew there was more to this than just a stranger being friendly.

“Let me know if there’s anything I could do to help,” he smiled sweetly, looking at you with those eyes that made your whole body hypersensitive.

You found your gaze trailing his body, appreciating one of God’s finer creations.  When it met his eyes again, he was looking at you a little differently, a little more hunger in his expression.

“Is there… something I can do for you?” he asked, his voice a little lower.  He stepped closer, making you feel cornered against the wall, but your heart fluttered.

“Yes,” you answered quietly.

“What is it?”

“I…”

Sex was a tricky one.  Something so pure, so inherently good in its nature, one of the most beautiful parts of creation… and somehow it seemed to be involved in so many varieties of sin.  You shivered to imagine something precious being corrupted by evil.

“I can’t say,” you murmured.

“Just ask,” he cooed.  “If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask.”

“August,” you sighed, giving in to your primal urge, “touch me, please.”

He smiled.  “You are so beautiful,” he cooed as his fingers slipped down your stomach and lifted the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I--”

“Shh,” he soothed, “this will feel good, I promise.”

“I’ve never--”

“I know,” he smiled, “it’s alright.”

His warm fingers delicately traced a line over your underwear and you shivered.  Such a simple touch and you were already melting into him,

“O-oh my,” you gasped.  He hummed lowly and slipped the fabric aside, finding your lips wet and warm.

Instantly his fingers found a spot that made your knees shake and your mouth fall slack.  He smiled and pressed against it harder; your hands flew up to grasp his shoulders.

Just as you felt a mysterious pressure building in your gut, you felt him moving and opened your eyes to see him drop to his knees in front of you.  Before you could ask what he was doing, he was pulling down your underwear to your thighs, slipping his head under your skirt, and licking a stripe right through your folds.

“Ohhh,” you groaned, your head falling back against the wall

"You taste like heaven," he praised as he popped up from between your legs.  

"You have no idea," you sighed as he got back to work.

His tongue did incredible things to you, while his hands roamed your legs and thighs and ass with patience yet insistence.

“Oh, August, r-right there,” you instructed, a hand grabbing his hair and pulling unintentionally.  He moaned against you, sucking harder on your bud until you were sure you were going to reach this clandestine peak any moment now--

He stood up suddenly, pulling you into a deep kiss.  You tasted yourself on him and it made you feel a little dizzy.

He stepped back and you found yourself leaning in to chase the kiss, and you blushed when you realized how needy you had become.  He watched you with heavy eyes as he unclasped his belt and opened his trousers.

"Oh!" you gasped when you saw his cock.  It was… more than you'd bargained for, to say the least.

"I know," he grinned.  "What can I say?  I'm blessed."

You fought the urge to correct him.  That was not the sort of blessing your department provided.

He guided your hand to the member and you wondered why you weren’t trying to pull away.  Your delicate fingers wrapped around him and he gasped a bit, as did you.  It was so hard, and yet it was smooth and soft and hot in your hands.

He moved you by your wrist so your hand massaged his length, his head falling back a bit as his hips began to thrust into your grip.  

“Yeah, stroke it, just like that,” he praised, moving against you a bit faster.

“Is… is it good?” you asked nervously.

“Yes,” he sighed, “so good-- you’re doing so good for me, Angel.”

His eyes shot open suddenly, and he leaned in, caging you against the wall, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered.  “I need to be inside you.”

You gasped, feeling arousal surge into your core.

“I… I don’t think it’ll fit,” you admitted.  He chuckled.

“I’ll make it fit,” he soothed, his voice making the hairs on the back of your neck stand alert.

He carried you to his bed, laying you down after removing your dress delicately, like he was revealing a classical painting from behind a curtain.

His own clothes were shed so quickly that you barely had time to register the perfectly chiseled form of his chest before he was hovering over you, his limbs caging you in, his hips dangerously close to yours.

“You are so perfect,” he sighed.

“I… I doubt that,” you deflected.

His hands ran all over your body, taking a little extra time at your breasts and thighs, the latter of which he spread apart, staring at your sex as he grasped his cock and began to move forward to plunge into you.

“August!” you protested, though you weren’t sure what exactly you would say if he stopped.  It didn’t matter, because he didn’t, roughly pressing the head of his cock into you.  There was a burn, a sting, and you yelped.

“Damn,” he grinned, “so tight.  Fuck.  Really, really fuckin’ tight.”

“August, it’s-- hnng-- it’s too big,” you whimpered.

“You can take it,” he encouraged.  “You’re such a good girl.  Be a good girl and take it.”

He pushed further in and you winced as your body stretched beyond what you thought was possible.  You were so wet, so eager, and yet there was resistance.

“S-slow down,” you begged.

“You’ve almost got it, baby, you’ve almost got all of me.  Fuck, you feel so good.”

He felt good, too, and his words of praise certainly encouraged your body and mind as he pressed the last inch in and buried himself completely.

"Oh god," he groaned as he bottomed out inside you, and you really hated that.

“August,” you mewled.

“Say my name again,” he demanded.

“A-august,” you stuttered.  He moaned and pulled back-- you sighed at the relief, only for him to slam back into you.  You choked and nearly screamed as he did it again, and again, and again.

“So perfect,” he cooed, “so good for me.”

“It hurts,” you whined, your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders.

“It’s gonna feel good, baby, it’s gonna feel so good, just hold on a little longer--”

His hand slipped down and massaged that little bud between your legs again, and your back arched.  The pleasure mixed with the pain and suddenly the two became indistinguishable.

“Oh, oh August,” you moaned.  He laughed a little, darkly, looking down at you.

“Feels good now, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” you admitted, feeling a little guilty as heat burned your cheeks.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “gonna make you feel so good, Angel.”

His cock was pressing against every part of your insides, stretching you in a way that you could finally appreciate-- so fulfilling, so powerful.  He reached deeper into you than you knew you could go, and it nearly hurt but mainly you were focused on the pleasure, on the way you couldn’t help but clench and tighten around him.

“God, baby,” he sighed, “that’s amazing.  You’re amazing.”

All too quickly, that pressure was building again.  You just knew that if he kept going, you could glimpse something so powerful, something that would change everything.

“Yes, yes, oh--” you gasped, “don’t stop, August.”

“I won’t, Angel,” he cooed, “I won’t stop, I promise.”

“I’m gonna-- oh--”

“Go ahead,” he encouraged, “let go.  Come for me.”

Your eyes screwed shut as your back arched; your whole body was alight with a crackling energy that emanated from where your bodies were connected and shot all the way to your fingers and toes, which curled and tightened.

How could this be wrong, when it felt so wonderfully right?  How could this be anything but good?

~

“How was your time on Earth?” Mīkhāʼēl asked.

“Uh, enlightening,” you chuckled.

“Yes, mortality can be quite taxing,” he nodded.  “But hopefully you’ve learned your lesson.  You’re holy again, but you’re on probation.  You need to learn to appreciate your place in all this.”

“And what, exactly, is my place in all this?”

“A pawn.”

You slumped into your seat.  “Right.”

“It’s warfare.  I’m not sure what you thought it was we did here, but you’re about to find it abundantly clear.”

Your eyes went wide.  “How so?”

“We recently captured a demon-- an enemy of God and all that is good in His world.  We need information from him in order to prevent more destruction and corruption.”

“So, an interview?”

He laughed a little, his head dropping into his hands.  “Oh, you really don’t understand the enemy at all.  But you will.”  Mīkhāʼēl looked up and glared at you.  “You’re going to interrogate him.”

“Wha-- me?”

“It’s the safest way for you to see one up close.  He’s restrained, he can’t hurt you unless you let him out.  Uh, don’t do that, obviously.”

“Of course.”

“You need to appreciate how evil they are.  You need to see what we’re up against.”

“O-okay.”

Mīkhāʼēl led you to a level of the heavens you’d never seen before-- a dungeon.  It was dark and damp in a way totally opposite to the rest of this place you’d always called home.  It disturbed you that this even existed.

He took you down a hallway only to shove you into a room, slamming the big stone door behind you.  It was dark, lit only by torch sconces, and you could only barely make out the shape of a chained creature against the wall.

“Angel,” he greeted with a low and gravelly voice.  You froze.  

“...August?”

“One of a few names of mine, yes,” he answered.

You turned, and gasped when you saw him.  He had been tortured thoroughly, it seemed.  Chains wrapped around his body and held him back against the wall where his hulking form cast a shadow over blood-spattered stone.  Cuts and burns littered his skin, and even with a blackened eye and a swollen lip, he looked as beautiful as ever.  He looked less human than before, though.  You couldn’t tell if his skin was redder and darker in this form, or if it was just the dim lighting and blood.  

He looked at you and gave you a weak but devilish smile… literally.  “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, crushed under the weight of what you had done.  Of course it would come back to bite you.

“You’re allowed to say that?” 

You winced.  “I’m not supposed to, no.”

“You’re learning how fun it is to break the rules.”

You looked away, rubbing your arm nervously.  “When we met before,” you awkwardly recalled, “did you… know?”

“Know you were an Angel?  No,” he answered.  “I sensed your purity; I came, I saw, I conquered-- it’s sort of my modus operandi.”

You shuddered.

“This,” he grinned, “is a lovely surprise.  The wings suit you, by the way.”

“You looked better before,” you grimaced.  

“Don’t care for the horns?” “I meant that you’re beaten and bloodied and bound.”

“Oh, so you do care for the horns,” he winked.  “They always do.”

They.  How terrible.  You were such a fool to think that there was anything special or meaningful about what had happened in the human world that day.  

“So,” he started, “you’re here to torture me, yeah?”

“I… suppose so, yes,” you shifted nervously.

“So, what’s the plan?  They’ve got a whole menagerie of toys over there,” he motioned with his head.  You didn’t even want to look at the bloodied tools.

“I want to bless you,” you offered instead.  He hissed.

“Sounds painful.”

“It will be, at first,” you admitted, “but maybe you can be saved.”

He laughed a little at that, but his exhaustion was apparent.

“Or,” you proposed instead, “I could just carve the tetragrammaton into your chest.”

“Ooh, creative,” he sighed. “I’ll take the blessing, thank you.”

As you stepped closer, you could see that he was breathing quickly.  He looked afraid.  Perhaps others enjoyed this feeling of invoking fear in others, but you did not.  

A phial of holy water was tied to the cords at your waist, and he squirmed against the chains as he watched you untie and uncork it.

“In the name of the Father,” you began; each droplet of water instantly steamed as it hit his skin, and you watched his face as each impact brought a strong initial reaction but the pain faded quickly. “And the Son,” another flick of water, “and the Holy Spirit,” one final spray.

He grunted a little but shut his eyes as he fought the pain.

“Still a demon?” you asked nervously.  His eyes were still shut but he laughed a little. 

“That was nothing,” he chuckled.  “The real torture is seeing you right there and being chained up.  The things I would do to be able to touch you right now.”

“You can’t seriously tell me that you got off on being burned with holy water.”

“Got off?  Not even close,” he frowned.  “But there was certainly a physical reaction.  Look for yourself.”

He moved his hips a little and you caught the shape of his erection against his trousers in the corner of your eye before you looked away.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” he smiled, “you’ve seen it before.”

“Don’t remind me,” you shuddered.

His gaze made your whole body feel warm, and tingly, and a bit nauseous.

“I can smell your doubt,” August cooed, “among other things.” “Doubt is a natural step on the journey of faith,” you answered clinically. 

“Yes, it’s certainly my favorite,” he grinned.

“Exploiting people at their most vulnerable-- how twisted,” you shook your head.

“Darling, that’s what you people do,” he grimaced.  “My job has always been to help people do what’s good for them.” “At the cost of what’s good for others,” you added.  He shrugged with a half-smile.  

“If everyone looks out for themselves, they put each other in their place.”

“Please stop trying to explain your Satanic philosophy as if it is logical or right in any way,” you frowned.

“Okay, but tell me this: how does me, chained to a wall and tortured, fit into your Heavenly philosophy?”

You considered that, looking away and trying not to notice him staring at you.  You weren’t sure what inspired you to do it, but you stepped forward and loosened his chains until he was able to let his arms rest at his sides again.  He sighed with relief, and looked down at you.  You realized you were standing too close to him, but you were unable to step away.

He hummed as he scanned your body with his gaze.  “I know exactly what you’re going through,” he purred, reaching out to you.  “You’re beginning to wonder how the proprietors of ‘good’ can do things that are so evil,” he continued, his fingers beginning to trail down your stomach, “and how something so evil,” his fingers reached between your legs, “can feel so good.”

Your head fell back with a gasp as he did that thing with his fingers that made your body melt into his touch.

“You can’t… we can’t…” you mumbled, but couldn’t finish the thought.

“What’s your plan to stop me, Angel?  Will you smite me back to Hell?”

“N-no,” you answered, “then you’d be free.”

“Ah, can’t pull the wool over your eyes,” he praised.  

Like all sin, you weren’t sure how you ended up in the thick of it, but suddenly your ears were filled with the sound of jingling chains as you were straddling his lap, your robe tattered and tossed aside, riding him while he growled and pulled you closer.

“God, you are perfect,” he groaned.

All you could do was moan and throw your head back as his length speared you so perfectly.

When you heard the shifting of metal, at first you assumed it was his chains, or maybe a sconce falling off the wall from the force of him fucking you so brutally.  It wasn’t until it was far too late that you realized it was the opening of the door as Mīkhāʼēl re-entered. 

You tried to jump up and run away, as if there was any chance at plausible deniability at this point, but August held you tighter, wrapping his arm around your neck until you were nearly choking.

Mīkhāʼēl’s look of shock quickly morphed to disgust, contempt, and rage.

“You defile an angel, demon!” he bellowed.  August just grinned, black eyes sparkling in the firelight.

“This isn’t-- I didn’t mean-- he made me--”

Instantly, Mīkhāʼēl’s hand was around your throat, and his eyes burned through you with a hot white heat.

“Do not bear false witness, Angel,” he growled, his voice echoing across the stone.  The place where his skin was on yours started to crackle and sizzle as you felt the holy fire of judgment consume you.

“No, please!” you begged, reaching for him, but it was too late: you were already falling, already tumbling into nothingness, already feeling the emptiness overtake you as you were plunged from grace, to mortality, to exile.

You came to against a stone floor, aware only of the darkness that surrounded you and the ache on your back where you were hypersensitive to your lack of wings.  This was much worse than your time as a mortal in the human world.  You must have still had some holiness at that point-- maybe just the inherent holiness that came with being a part of God’s creation rather than stranded outside of it-- because now you were sore and aching and your sense of balance was all wrong as you tried to stand up.  

“Hello?” you called into the darkness, immediately hating how weak you sounded.

Suddenly the darkness shifted, and there was August, no longer chained, still horned and black-eyed, bearing little burns on his chest from where you had hit him with the holy water.

“Come with me,” he offered, extending a hand to you.  You shied away but he grabbed you and pulled you into him.  

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“When have I ever done that?” he asked, and you were too busy being dragged forward to answer.

Suddenly there was a door, and he was opening it, and you were in some sort of hallway.  The smell of brimstone hit you first, then the heat.  Hungry eyes devoured you from every direction, and you shivered under their glares.

You forced your eyes closed as you stepped forward and repeated a prayer quietly to yourself.  “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.”

"Your god can't reach this place," August informed you.  You opened your eyes, your mantra interrupted.  

"He can do anything," you frowned.  "He could retrieve me if He wanted."

"Well, then he must not want to."

You looked away and crossed your arms.

At the end of a hall was a door, and August motioned to it: “this is my bedroom.  Dinner is in an hour,” he explained coolly.  “Your clothes are laid out for you on our bed.” “You can’t dress me up,” you frowned, “and you can’t make me share a bed with you.”

“We’ll discuss this after we eat,” he replied sharply, 

The dress was… not the sort of thing you were used to wearing.  Black, revealing, heavy with beading and other vain decorations.

You were just thankful it covered the new scars on your back.

August was waiting for you in the dining room.  His table was overflowing with more food than you’d seen perhaps in all your life combined.  Fruits, meats, enough cakes and desserts to kill a grown man.  All this abundance made even more unavoidable the fact that it was just you and him alone in the room.

"The Lord sets a table before me in the presence of mine enemies," you smirked.

“I’m not your enemy,” he corrected. “I’m the only person sticking up for you right now.”

“You’re holding me captive.”

“You have nowhere else to go.  You know I didn’t bring you here, right?  You were cast down.  If it weren’t for me, you’d be up to your eyes in the ‘weeping and gnashing of teeth’ stuff right now.”

“So I’m supposed to just ignore what you are?” 

He stood up and pulled you into him, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“And what am I, exactly?”

"You're an incubus.  You seduce people, feed on their sin.  It's filthy, it's… awful."

"Aww, Angel, are you jealous?” he purred as he leaned down to ghost his lips over your neck. “You shouldn't be.  You're more than enough to sustain me.  Just say the word and I'm yours-- I'll never seduce another.  You're all I need, Angel, you're all I want."  

"Lead me not into temptation," you whispered to yourself as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Stop praying," he murmured against your skin, "He can't hear you.  He's not here.  I'm here."

You felt the heavy fabric of your dress being lifted as the skirt ran up your legs.  And there he was, running his fingers over your slit, gasping at the wetness he found there.

“Oh, Angel,” he moaned right beside your ear.

“I… I have a name, you know,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather not burn my tongue on your language, but thank you for the heads up.”

“You just like reminding yourself that I’m an angel,” you frowned.

“I like reminding myself that you used to be an angel,” he hissed.

Your gut twisted and you felt your eyes start to burn with tears.  You had lost everything for this.  For him.  And of course it was a mistake, the worst mistake you would ever make, but now that the deed was done, you only had two options: keep the thing you’d given up your spot in Heaven for, or run away and be left with well and truly nothing.

The choice, while cruel, was obvious.

“August,” you whimpered.

“Yes, Angel?” he answered with an expectant look.

“Make love to me,” you requested in a weak voice.

“Oh, darling,” he grinned, his teeth sharp and glistening in the light of the fire, "I'm not going to make love to you.  I'm going to devour you."

[poppyknitt]

Forgiveness- A JSE Egos Fanfic: Thanksgiving Special

Recap: Over the last few months, Anti has attacked a few times, but was subdued on his own birthday by Marvin, whose mind had been corrupted by his overuse of dark magic, which is kind of like black magic, but much, much worse, and much, much more controlling of the mind if used to a certain, varyinge extent. Chase, who is no longer stuck as a ghost due to Marvin’s recklessness prior to their “victory”, and now fully functional, seems to have managed to save his kids and ex-wife Stacy from her new boyfriend, who was seemingly very controlling and even a bit abusive of them, whilst still being a ghost. Jackieboyman proposed to his girlfriend of two years, Ava, and seems to be very near quitting the superhero gig, so as to not put his fiancé at risk anymore, but also, so he can be a good father, as she’s apparently pregnant with his son. After celebrating their anniversay on a beautiful cruise ship, Jackie managed to come back to shore within enough time to join the remaining egos, and Seán himself, for Jameson’s birthday! Henrik is still recovering from the wounds he recieved in the battle that took place on Anti’s birthday, but he is thankfully healed enough to be back on the job!

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Warning- Long chapter! I would put a keep reading thing, but I’m on mobile, and you can’t do that on Tumblr Mobile, sadly! (*cough* TUMBLR DEVS, FIX THIS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! *cough*) Also, if you are triggered by any amount of cursing, or the mention of severe, temporarily disabling injuries, I suggest you skip to like, the last two paragraphs. Which may be hard, because apparently there’s almost 100 paragraphs in this fic.

[November 15th]

Marvin opened his eyes, and panicked, as he noticed that he wasn’t in his body anymore. He could see himself, but... it was like his body had gone into temporary stasis. He took a moment to himself, trying to recall the events that lead up to this... Ah, yes! That’s right...

He’d started playing around with the occasional black or dark magic spell about a year back, but had used them so little for the first few months that it barely affected his mental state. As time went on, however, he came to realize that soon enough, simply just using the same old magic spells on Anti as he’d always used wasn’t going to do jack shit to help defend his brothers. So, even though he didn’t want to break the promise he’d made to Jackie and Seán, he started full-on dabbling in dark and black magic, convincing himself it was the only way to keep them safe.

But then, in September... Jackie was brutally struck down by Anti, and Marvin had been lucky enough to pinpoint his location just in time to save his life, and trick Anti into thinking that he was dead. That moment... That was the moment it all took a turn for the worst. The next thing he’d known, his mind was entirely consumed by the darkness he’d slowly been inflicting on himself by using dark magic in the first place, and, by the time october came around, he’d been kicked out of his body, in the sense that he’d lost control of himself, and was being piloted by the aforementioned darkness. He’d been forced to watch in horror as his body tore his brothers down, one by one, until only Seán and Henrik remained untouched by his corruptive new abilities. Each time he attacked one of them, he’d been screaming for them, calling their names out desperately, trying to tell them he wasn’t in control. But... None of them even heard him in the first place... All they could hear in those moments was the evil momologues that his body was spewing.

He slowly started loosing himself in his recollecting trance, his mental state spiraling downwards as he slowly merged into self-deprecation and self-hate type thoughts; the kind he’d only ever read about before he started dabbling in the arts. It wasn’t until he heard a faint, staticy voice calling his name out that he snapped back to reality.

“Mavvy? Mavvy can hear?! Mavvy, say something!” Robbie’s voice called to him.

“Robbie?! Are you here with me?! How are you contacting me-?!” He exclaimed in confusion.

“It work! Mavvy! Calm! Can tell you have many question, but Mavvy not need fear; Will explain!” Robbie’s slightly raspy voice told him. It sounded like the zombie was... overjoyed to hear from him? But... Didn’t he remember the outburst..? Did... Did he not care?

“... Well..?” His voice shimmered hopefully, but it was muffled by the anticipation and fear that hung heavily on his soul.

“Henry left ghost communicator on table! Thought maybe I could contact Mavvy with gadget! Was worried would not work, but very glad it did!” Robbie exclaimed happily.

“... He left what now?”

“Ghost communicator! Jamie and me use ghost communicator for speak to Jackie and Chase when Mavvy was being mean!” He could almost hear the overjoyed grin Robbie must’ve had plastered on his face, “Mavvy come to park, yes? Want speak in person!”

“Uh... Listen, um, Robs... I’m... Sorta not in control of myself anymore, if that makes any sense..? I, uh, may or may not have been kicked out about a month ago... ‘ve no clue what happened between the fight with Anti and today, honestly... I... sorta blacked out. Jackie’s last words to me were pretty painful...”

“Oh! Understand! Is okay! Will just find you instead! Ghost communicator also locate ghost!” Robbie beamed.

“... That’s not a good idea, Robs... Look, just... Give me a few days. I’ll need time to do what I plan to do, but if it works out well, I... Things should be back to normal soon, okay..?” Marvin said softly, his heart heavy in his chest, as he knew it wasn’t true. His brothers... they... they’d never forgive him for what he did...

Yeah, that’s right... yǫu’ll͠ ǹever ҉be ͡fo̵r̛gi̵v͞eń,҉ ̷M̸a̡r̢v͢iņ. ̧Y͟o͘u’r͏e ͜all ̛al̡o͠n̵e͠.͜.͠. ̨I̢ń ͜f͟act̴, I͟ ̸bet҉ ͟th̢at͞ ̸t̢h͢i͢s̴ w͏h͏o̷l͢e̕ thi͝n̛g ̡is ̨all͞ à ͝ĺi̛e̷. R͡obb̧ie ͢d͠o͜e͞sn’͡t̶ w̸a̷nt͠ to t҉al̡ķ.͝ He̷ ̛w͢a̡n͢ts ̸t̶ó lu҉re͘ ̛you int̸o a̸ ̵t̛rap.͡.̨.̵ Y̛ou c̴a͏n̛’͞t t̨r͟ust t́hem̛ ̷a̴ny͟m̀o̡re..͝.̨

He clenched his teeth as the thought came to mind. He had no clue why these thoughts were even there, but they’d been plaguing him since he came to. He couldn’t pin the voice in it, either. The sound was far to glitched and distorted to have any meaningful, recognizable pitch. God, he hated not knowing what was going on.

“Okeh! Will wait! Is fine! Mavvy is okay, yes? Mavvy remembering PMA?” Robbie’s last question almost made Marvin choke in surprise. Okay, yeah, sure, Robbie was probably the most positive of their group, but..? He’d never outright stated such a thing before, so it did happen to take him by surprise.

“H-heh... U-uh... Y.. Yep! I’m... I’m doing fine, Robs... Talk to ya later, ‘kay?”

“M’keh! Hope Mavvy plan work!”

~~~~

“R҉ìs̴e ̵a͟n̨d ͟shi͝ne,̷ m͏y̡ friend.͜ ͢Y̷ou͞’̵v͞e ̧been ̷as͜lee̶p ҉for f̕ar̵ ͞toó ͘lo̵n̢g..͠..͞” A figure stood over the limp, frozen body that belonged to this world’s Anti, the only visible features on its face being a sadistic grin, and its eyes, which held a faint red and green glow. A faint green light began to radiate around Initiative, and he coughed faintly as he slowly got up, and tilted his head to glare at the newcomer.

“Giv̢e me҉ ͢o͠n̴e ̢goo͢d̢ ̶rea͢son ̡n̡o̕t̷ tò t̀ęa̶r̸ y͡o͝u͠r gu̡t̨ś ͡oưt͡ r͏ight̵ ḩe͏re ͜and͟ n̵ow̕, ͏jus̷t fo̢r͠ tr̶essp̨as̷s͡ing ̡i͜n͞ ̕m͜y҉ wo̡rld͠!”

~~~~

[November 22nd]

Marvin managed to return to his body, and gasped desperately for air as soon as he regained control, as though he had been holding his breath the entire time he’d been out of control. He looked around wildly, his emotions and anxieties returning all at once, as his ability to feel, which had been lessened without the help of his body’s input, suddenly rammed back to his mind’s registry all at once. His eyes were wide, as he slowly got a grip of the surrounding world. He... Was this his pocket dimension?! God, he hoped so. Otherwise, he must’ve chosen a really stupid place to pass out for about a month in. Just as he started calming down, he sensed the atmosphere in the mostly pale-gold dimension change to something more sinister, and something inside of him screamed for him to run.

A shrill bout of distorted, maniacal laughter errupted from behind him, accompanied by fast footsteps, which were evidently getting closer, and he took that as his cue to get the hell out of there. As he ran, he noticed a rift in the dimension in the distance, and bolted straight for it, as a knife flew past him, inches away from skimming his flesh. He shot some offensive spells towards the demon he knew was following him, though, he didn’t really pay any attention to what the spells were. He took note that the rift was very clearly shrinking in size, albeit at a slow pace, and sped up a bit.

No͟w’̢s̡ y͟ou̷r ̸chan̕ce,͞ Ma͡rv̡in! Use̢ ̀ơn̢e̕ ̵of͠ the ͘i͠n̸p̀ri̵sonm̧e͞nt ̛spells ̸o͜n͡ ͞him ҉w̨hi̛l̷e͘ ͞he’s d̡o̕wń.҉ ͞Yo҉u wo͏n’̶t ̴ge̷t ́aņo̶the̡r ̢c͟ha̸n̶ce̴ to͢ ͠kȩep̛ h́im ̸con̢t͘ain͢e̛d!

There it was again! Couldn’t that damned voice’s owner just leave him alone?! He wasn’t stupid, he knew they were trying to sabotage him!

No͘w, ̀nơw,̨ Ma̧r̴vi̷n.͏.̸. Th͟e͟r͜e’̵s͘ ņo n͜e҉ed ̶to͠ ̶b̕è so̴ ŗųd̀e. I͞’͝m ̴on͢ĺy ̸try͡ìng͝ ͝to̶ help.

... Shit, they can read his thoughts? Agh, nevermind that! He knew he had to get somewhere less open, and that’s all that mattered!

He got to the rift, and without even so much as a thought about what he was doing, he jumped through, just as it sealed itself. He realized he’d closed his eyes as he went through, and opened them after a few moments of hesitation. When he did, however, he regretted it, because he found that he was in some sort of interdimensional void, falling head-first towards an unseen point, as random objects and such seemed to float around him. He swiftly went over all the spells he knew, searching desperately for one that would bring him home. When he got to the one he’d usually used to travel between his pocket dimension and the real world, he took a deep breath, and cast it so that he would fall straight into the portal.

He set the coordinates to a secluded area in the woodlands of one of the parks he sometimes visited when clearing his head, and grinned to himself when he saw the portal open up. Within no time, he shot through it, and realized he had accidentally set it to drop him directly onto the ground.

He yelped in pain when he slammed into the earth nearly headfirst with a sickening thud, his hearing briefly getting taken over by a shrill ringing sound. His head was spinning painfully, and he figured he’d probably need to get medical attention soon, since he at least had a concussion. He shakily stood up after a few moments of battling his instincts, which screamed for him to stay where he was, as his vision swirled and spun, while he staggered to keep himself standing. He knew it was a long shot now that he was back in his body, but he figured if he tried to contact Robbie through the locator again, he could possibly direct the zombie to his approximate location. He stumbled over to a tree, clutching his chest with one hand, and grabbing onto the tree for support with the other, or, at least, he tried to. He cursed under his breath as pain shot through his arm, and he figured he must’ve landed on it wrong, so, instead of agitating it further, he just leaned against the tree.

“R.. Robbie... C-Can you hear me..?” He wheezed, despite the pain that seared through his chest as he spoke. His vision was blurring again, so, he turned a little, and slid to the ground, sitting with his back propped up against the tree.

A few minutes passed, and he started loosing hope, until finally, he heard, “Mavvy! Did plan work?”

“Y-.. Yeah.. I think I’m... Injured badly, though.” He said, a few weakened coughs interrupting his speech.

“Injury?! Where Mavvy?! Will bring Henry, no worry!” Robbie was clearly very worried.

“Wh- No-! No. No Henrik. Jus- Just come alone, okay? Get- Get JJ to send an ambulance to the park, alright?”

“Why? Henry still mad?”

“Mos.. Most likely, y..yeah.” God, it hurt to admit that.

“Okeh then! Will tell Jamie, then come find Mavvy!”

“Thank you for understanding, Robs.”

“Is not hard!”

After that, everything sort of blurred together, and everything seemed to slow down, as his ears began ringing again. He knew he was close to passing out, but if he had any control over it, he wasn’t going to pass out until he knew he was safe.

S̀e̛e̴ w̸h̴a̸t̕ h͢àp͜p̀e̡ns w̛h͠en̕ ́you̷ ḑon’͝t̸ li͏s͡ten͡? ̧Th͡i͟s̨ ̴who͟l̸e̡ ͏s͝itu͞a̸ti͏o̷ǹ ͜co͟ul҉d h́av̴e b͡e̛e̢n ͢a̕voiḑed ̸i̸f y̛o͞u͟ h͝ad͝ ju͟s͠t҉ list҉ene̴d͢ ̷to̶ ͝me when̕ ͢I̶ ̵t͝o̢ld ̧y͝o̸u ̵t̢o ͘ųśe̴ ̷the͡ i̧np͡ris̵o͠nm͠e̷n̡t̡ spells.̧

He barely even registered the thought in his broken state, as his mind spun wildly, to the point that he couldn’t even tell whether he was thinking or not.

Just as he thought Robbie was never going to come to his aid, he heard the zombie yelling his name. In no time, he was by his side, and with JJ’s help, he pulled Marvin to his feet, and the two of them carried him for a bit. He could hear sirens at some point, and as his vision, which still spun, slowly started to fade, he was placed on a stretcher. The ringing in his ears was so loud by now that the voices of the EMTs and his youngest brothers were muffled beyond recognition.

After that, everything went black, and he woke up surrounded by darkness.

“O͘h de͝a͢r...̷ ͏loo҉ks̕ lik͠e̡ ̀y͡ơu̴r ̵m̴ista̡k̵e̶s҉ ̧en͝ded up ̴p͞utt̴ing͟ y҉ou ͜i͜n͞ a͏ ba͟d ̕s҉i̶t̛uat͢i͏o̧n̸ ̕y͏e҉t a͏gain... I̛t҉’s͟ ͠à ͜shame͡,̴ r̡ea͠l͟l̢y.̧ ̶To ͡t͝h̢ink ̢t̶his ̨co̷u̢ld͢’ve ̶a̛ll͜ ̶b҉èe͘n avoidèd̵ ̡if͝ ̶yo͝u̵’͜d́ ͏júst ļist͘e͢nèd͢ t͡ò ̵m͟e.͘” The voice was all around him now. He looked around, and found a large “screen” was behind him. On it, he could see a human’s face, however, their eyes were impossible to make out. From what he could see, however, it was a face much like his, and by effect, the rest of the egos’.

“What the hell do you want from me? Who are you?” He snapped, glaring boldly at the screen, his eyes seeming to glow dimly in the darkness with agitation.

“A͜h,̛ ̵ah͠,̶ ah, ̧M̧ar̛vi͟n.̡ ̡Ḑo͡n’͠t ̷you ͠thi͟nk ̀y̶o̧u’r͜e̶ ͘ge̡t͠ti͘ng ̶a̕ b͏it ̨too̴ ̴f̕iesty͝? ̕Y̕ou͡ s҉h͡ou͘ld n͘èver ̸q̀uestiòn͘ t̀ho̸s̶e ̨who̴ ̀aŕe onlý ̧tr̸yi͢n̵g ͠t͡o͡ ̷hèl҉p. I͘ thou͡g̛h̀t͏ ͝you’̕d̡ ͘kn̢o̕w tha̴t̵ by͏ ͘n͟o̕w͠.͝”

Ouch.

“Just answer the damn questions!” He spat, having to restrain himself from breaking the screen in front of him. They seemed to consider it, however, a distant, muffled voice calling his name interrupted.

“O͡h͝,̕ d͡o ̕ỳou ̴h҉ea̵r ͏t͟haţ? I ̧t͞h̡ink̸ you̧r̢ f͏rien҉dś are͡ ̡ge̛ţt͝i͞n̢g ̷des͝per̨a̴t̛e͝ to͟ se̸e y͝oư o͡kay̕.҉.͜.͝ I͟ h̢àd b̛e̸s̛t b̕e͟ ́l̕ea͏ving,҉ t͘he҉n͘.̧”

“Hey! Wait, no! I’m not done with y-!” He began to protest, but the screen shut off before he could finish, leaving him in total darkness, and still pretty freakin’ pissed.

~~~~

Henrik watched skeptically from the doorway as Robbie repeatedly called out to Marvin, who was unconscious, and in a hopsital bed. The magician had apparently provided no explanation for his substantial amount of injuries, but if he had to take a guess, it was probably a result of him failing to properly place one of his interdimensional portals so that he didn’t slam into the ground at a ridiculously high speed. Last time it’d happened, though, he’d slammed into the roof of the Egos’ house from about three feet up. Given the amount of bone fractures in comparison to scrapes, it’s probably safe to say that he learned something from that little incident, though.

A few minutes went by, and Marvin finally stirred. Henrik tensed, preparing to see the corrupt, violent magician he’d seen only a month ago, but shockingly, his eyes held a much softer, more human look than they had before. One thing was certain, though- Marvin wasn’t at his full strength, even without his injuries. In the back of his head, he started to wonder if perhaps, Marvin had actually managed to undo the damage he’d done to his sanity.

“Mavvy!” Robbie cheered happily, instantly jumping to gently hug his brother.

The magician hesitantly returned the gesture with the one arm that was actually functional, trembling a small bit as he did so, “Wh...? Oh, hey Robs... Where’s JJ..?”

“Jamie outside hospital! Will go get him! Henry keep Mavvy company, yes?” Robbie looked at him when he mentioned his name. Henrik blinked uncertainly for a second, and rolled his eyes.

“... Sure, why not.” He said, taking note that Marvin looked hurt by the harsh tone in his voice. Robbie grinned, let go of Marvin, and darted out of the room.

Marvin looked elsewhere as soon as Robbie was gone, nervously holding his broken arm with his functional one. Henrik sighed, and walked over to the bedside, staring disapprovingly at the idiot he’d thought had left for good.

“You better have a damn good explanation for the panic you caused, Magician.” His voice dripped with annoyance and a slight drop of hatred; He clearly still hadn’t forgiven him, and had no reason to hide it.

“... I.. Not... Not really... After Jackie and Seán left me alone in Anti’s void, I... I sorta went to my pocket dimension, and my mind just... blacked out for almost a month... After that, I woke up, regained control of myself, and.. well... Found out the hard way that someone freed Anti, and showed him how to access my pocket dimension.”

“That does not explain the broken bones, you dummkopf!”

“... I... may or may not have... jumped through a rift without thinking..?” He laughed nervously.

Henrik facepalmed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and shook his head, “Why am I not surprised?”

“...” A few minutes of awkward silence passed.

“Mavvy! Mavvy still awake?” Robbie practically bounced into the room, breaking the awkward silence. Marvin waved shyly, clearly relieved to see them back.

“Ah! So it is true! You’re in stable condition again. Thank heavens.” Jameson signed, smiling happily.

Marvin appearred to attempt a nod, but stopped, and responded instead, “... ‘S good to see you, too, Jamie.”

“Is everything alright, Marvin?”

“... Y-Yeah. Just... thinking. That’s all..” Henrik could tell he wasn’t telling the entire truth, but he didn’t say anything. He just narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him, since this was a bad time to get worked up over this type of thing, and stress out Marvin further.

~~~~

Ļo̢o͟k at y̢oú.͏.͝.̕ ̸The̢y̸ ͜hav̨e ͞y̵o̡u r͝i̢gh͠t̵ ͢wh͟er͠e ҉t͟h́ey̴ ͟w̨a̢n͡t͏ yo̕ư.͞.̨. ͠We̶akeņe̵d̴, ͠a͜nd ͠eńti̴r҉e͡ly̶ a҉t͡ ̛t̨hei͏r̨ m͞e͢r͝cỳ.̶.. ̧T͠h͏ey̴ c͞oùld̸ wa̢l͏k r̡igh̕t ͟ųp̨ ̢ţo͏ ̷yo̶ú ̵and ̕s̀nap̧ ͞you̸r̀ ͢néck at an͟y̷ mo̧me̸n̷t̢.̀ ͞N͡o̡t̛h̕i̕ng’҉s st͠op͞pi̢ng͜ ҉them̛ fr̢om dòi̡ng̷ it̛.

He internally cringed, knowing full well that it was true. If they wanted to, they could easily kill him right here and now. They could go to Seán or Jackie and get them to help hide the evidence. And the worst part about that was that regardless of who they asked, the answer would, without a doubt, be yes. They all hated him now. And he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for it, either. Henrik narrowed his eyes at him, and he knew he could tell there was something off with him. He felt his heart sinking hopelessly for what seemed like ages, until Henrik finally turned tail and left the room. Robbie came back to the chair by the bedside, and JJ joined him, sitting in the chair next to Robbie’s.

He silently took in a deep breath, trying to prepare himself to say what they were all probably thinking, “... Well, now’s your chance.”

“What?”

“There’s no one else here to see or stop you. You want revenge, right?” He refused to look anywhere but down. Robbie was speechless, staring at him with a look that was some cross between upset, concerned, and confused.

Jameson’s face was filled with worry as he frantically signed, “Marvin, what ever made you think such a thing?!”

“Oh, come on, JJ! I hurt you guys! I.. I accidentally kicked Chase out of his body! I... betrayed you. All of you... And... The worst part is? I didn’t even regret it... Actually, a part of me... enjoyed it..” He trailed off, as tears began threatening to spill from his tear ducts.

“Marvin, listen to yourself! You clearly regret it now! That’s saying something. Besides, I’ve already forgiven you. I know you did not do what you did out of malice; you thought you were doing what was right.”

“Yeah! Forgave Mavvy when he try to heal Henry.” Robbie commented, grinning childishly again, though, there was a more serious, determined glint in his eyes this time.

“... You... wh-why...? I’m... I turned myself into a monster..! Why... How can you forgive me so easily..?” He choked out, as the first tear finally managed to fall.

“Because you’re our brother... And, well, we weren’t mad in the first place..” JJ smiled sympathetically.

Marvin held back a grunt of slightly pained surprise as Robbie practically glomped him, and soon, JJ joined the hug, too. He let out a shaky laugh, which easily could’ve been a sob, as the rest of the tears that were built up began to fall silently.

~~~~

Henrik sat outside the hospital room, his head in his hands, as he listened to the conversation going on in there. God, how could he have been such a dick to Marvin?! It was obvious that he’d gone almost completely back to normal since he last saw him! His mental condition had obviously not fared well after the events that transpired the last time they saw one another, and he just had to go and shove his pain down his throat, didn’t he? Probably didn’t help that he was completely helpless in the condition that he was in. Oh, how he wished he could take it all back, go in there, and hug Marvin until he stopped crying...

——————————————————

Next chapter

Oops, ran out of room! Sorry for the long chapter! I had to try and stretch the writing of this one out as long as I could, so I would end up finishing on Thanksgiving. Of course, I sorta forgot Thanksgiving was next thursday, not tomorrow... Oops..? Anyways, I didn’t get to actually finish this in the way I wanted to. Tumblr’s being picky about the amount of paragraphs, so I kinda had to remove a few things. But god damn, this fic was a total emotional ride to write! Between working Marvin into a more 3-Dimensional, lovable character with a lot of sadness in his poor ol’ heart, and writing the last two scenes, my heart died a million deaths for this one. Thankfully, though, I seem to be unable to cry when I’m not alone, so no tears were shed over the character development!

@antis-loyal-puppet , @chaoticcrimsonrose , @tiny-septic-puppet , @septic-dr-schneep

[irkallanprince]

Never Done

Fandom: Buffyverse Rating: MA Warnings: None this chapter (Sex, Violence, Gore, Death, Swearing overall)

The world at large is aware of the things that go bump in the night and of the mystical warriors chosen to fight them. The bloodline of the Slayer has always been female, but the rules were set into motion in a time when the idea of gender identity wasn’t being explored. How does the Slayer line adapt in modern times?

In part two, Mario Mendoza comes home to an intruder and has a conversation that will possibly change the way he looks at slaying demons.

(LINK TO PART ONE)

Mario Mendoza was a quiet man. He generally kept to himself, and many people in his apartment building thought he was a loner and a shut-in. Which… he was but that was beside the point. Most people wouldn’t get his need for privacy. For solitude.

Most people would be in danger if they got near him anyway.  

He opened the front door and didn’t bother with the lights. He could see a little better in the dark these days having spent so much time in it.  Instead he just went straight for the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting the cap and giving a gulp. He stopped and gazed at the blue light filtering onto the face of his refrigerator for a moment before letting go a light huff of breath.

“Most people can’t sneak up on me these days. I hope you’re aware of that.” He pursed his lips before turning and staring in the direction of the loveseat in the corner of the room. A man sat up, turning on the the lamp next to him and flashed a vibrant smile.

“Sorry. I just wanted to test if your senses were… erm… astute.” He replied in a rather charming English accent. Mario turned his head to the side, eyes furrowing in confusion. There was never any fear there. Mario knew if the guy meant harm he’d have attacked by now, and if he was just playing a long game he could easily take him.

“Well. You got me. I’m super astute. And you are?”

“O-oh. Terribly sorry I just… am fascinated by you really. I’m Andrew Sirk. I am… well, not officially as they no longer technically exist, but I come from a long line of Watchers. Though the Council was destroyed long before I could begin training. Most of my training came from my grandfather and my great uncle. They were lost in the great wars along the way though…” Andrew babbled in a strangely endearing manner.  

“I-I’m interested in starting a new Council from the ground up. No more corruption like before though. They can sod off with their daft old ways. I would go to San Francisco to make contact with Buffy Summers but… she’s such a legend, you know? It’s like going straight to Meryl Streep with a small independant film. Wee bit intimidating, you know?”

Mario just pursed his lips, crossing his muscular arms as he leaned back against his counter, just staring from his kitchen. This babbling idiot wanted to restart the Council. Cool. Why did he come to Mario though? There were a million people (probably literally now) fighting the good fight these days. Mario was just small town business.  

“Cool story. Doesn’t explain why you’re here on my lounge chair in the middle of the night.” He said, crossing the threshold of the kitchen and sitting on the seat across from him. He took another swig from his bottle and stared down the other who was visibly nervous.

“Uh… is this your first time doing this… Watching stuff?”

Andrew laughed a bit and shook his head, wiping his palms off on his jeans.

“Oh no I just… I’m here because… well I’ve done a lot of research on places of interest, people I should contact if I wasn’t going to start with the big names. Following stories and chasing leads really. There’s hundreds, maybe thousands of warrior women out there now, but very few men that aren’t a soldier or a vampire or… whatever it may be. Initially I thought that was all that you were, hearing reports coming from here of a small dark skinned man fighting off the forces of darkness. A demon or something. But a few slayers I have come across have reported seeing visions of this same man. Feeling what he feels. Fighting what he fights.” Andrew stood, fascinated by Mario as he approached. He sat on the couch next to him and studied his face as if he were some sort of new creature he’d never seen before. Mario furrowed his eyebrows and grimaced. He’d been gawked at enough in his lifetime.

“What the hell are you getting at?” He hissed, crossing his arms almost protectively, as if it were a nervous tic. Andrew chewed his lip and looked forward at the coffee table.

“Oh I’m sorry I don’t mean to stare. It’s just… you share abilities with the slayers. But up until now all slayers have been women.”

“Yeah? And I’m a man.” He said, growing short with him. Andrew backed away a bit on the couch, looking down, once again catching a bit of nerves.

“I… I’m not implying otherwise I just… I am sorry if I offended you. This is just new is all.” He avoided eye contact now as if an act of submission to Mario as the alpha male. He wasn’t sure how to handle people like Mario, but he also knew that without a shadow of a doubt the man could kick his ass. So he decided to try and make him feel at ease.

“Look all I’m saying is… I’d like you to be my slayer. Or… whatever the male equivalent of a slayer is. Honestly at this point anyone looking to get into being a Watcher has their pick but you… are extraordinary.” He said with a lopsided grin, finally looking up with his striking green eyes. Mario wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but he’d been doing just fine on his own so far. He wasn’t sure he was looking to change that.  Still, his confused expression must have said it all, because Andrew stood and took a card from his wallet and handed it to him.

“I’ll be in town for a few more days. Here’s my number. I’m staying at the Crescent Palms Motel. It’s bloody rubbish but the next closest hotel is 20 miles away and I don’t feel like paying cab fare so…” He nervously shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Consider it, okay?” He shot Mario a charming smile that once again sent confusing thoughts into his brain. He fondled the card between his fingertips and gave a silent, solemn nod.

“I’ll let myself out.” Andrew said before giving a tiny salute with his fingers and turning for the door. Mario stared at it for a bit after he left, before gazing down at the card. He’d been doing this alone for so long, but it was largely by choice. He knew he could have allies, but he also knew they’d ask questions that he just didn’t want to entertain all of the time. He just wanted a quiet life, and while he couldn’t fight the calling forever, he could at least live it on his terms.

Why was he now questioning if he wanted more?

[kuriquinn]

Fic Prompt/Request: Team 7 ANBU probation

tictocwynn said:

Can there be a part 3 to that team 7 anbu thing with Kakashi and Manako? Totally loving Manako, and [...]

Masterlist & Disclaimer

Summary: They were the three most feared humans alive...and then they met their match.

Disclaimer: This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016- )

Rating: T

Warning: Mild OOC? They’re characters that grew up differently than the canon, so a little bit of change in personality. There is are OCs in this fic (Manako Inuzuka and Kakashi’s children). Don’t like it, don’t read (but I’ve had pretty positive feedback about them, so your loss).

Canon/Fanon Compliance: AU ‘verse. Sasuke left Konoha, but he came back right away or right after training or something. Team 7 went on to become ANBU

Having been placed on indefinite leave three weeks ago, Team 7 has been desperate to return to active ANBU duty. Matters have progressed enough that inevitably all three of them find themselves back in the Hokage’s office trying to persuade their former teacher to put them back on the ANBU roster.

Kakashi, however, has a caveat—a mission with no room for failure to ensure they were worthy of their positions. Sasuke thinks it’s going to be an assassination or protection detail, but when Kakashi’s—mistress? Lover? Partner?—shows up with two toddlers and an infant, a worse possibility emerges.

“Have you told them yet?” Manako asks, not bothering with a greeting. The grey-haired twins take off, vaulting towards the Hokage’s desk, scattering papers everywhere in their haste to clamber over their father’s knees.

“I was getting there,” Kakashi says impatiently, maneuvering the twins into his lap with practices ease, and turning back to his former students. “There’s a Kage summit in Suna in two weeks.”

“And Tanzaku Town is on the way,” Manako interrupts. “We haven’t had any alone time since Peach Fuzz here was born.” She hefts the infant Obito in her arms. “We’re due a getaway.”

“You mean a sex weekend,” Naruto points out.

“Yeah, that.”

Kakashi stares heavenward. “Whatever happened to subtext in polite company?”

“You read porn in polite company,” Manako reminds him.

The Sixth Hokage sighs and turns his attention to his students.

“If you three want back on active duty, you first have to prove to me you can be responsible adults,” Kakashi lectures, patiently removing one twin’s grasping hands from a paperweight and the other’s foot from his laptop keyboard. “You’ve forgotten the importance of following mission directive and completing your tasks as required, without deviation. You need practice.”

“So, you’re placing the health and safety of your children in our hands?” Sakura questions, uncertain.

“If I had to bet on three people to come out of this alive, I’d bet on my boys,” Manako informs her soberly. “We’ll be back in two days, and if you three elite shinobi can’t handle it, you can always drop them off with Kiba.”

Naruto’s eyes bug out.

The last time Kiba babysat, he took them to Ichiraku and they almost destroyed it!

“No way, we can do this!” Naruto declares, as usual, game for anything. “I mean, how hard can it be?”

*

Two days later, Sasuke wonders if it’s possible to go back in time and kill Naruto before he utters that statement.

“This…is not…a child,” he bites out from beneath clenched teeth, trying to prise his hair out of Obito’s chubby fists. The baby has the long strands clutched in a death grip and is wailing as if someone is torturing him with a hot poker.

Beside him, Sakura makes a choking noise in response to Shinzō—or possibly Kuboshi—who has clambered up her back and clutched her from behind. She thinks it might have been meant for a hug, but from the way he clutches her throat and hangs on for dear life she wonders if he isn’t practicing assassination techniques.

Meanwhile, Naruto chases intently after Kuboshi—though it could be Shinzō—who has somehow managed to divest himself of all of his clothing and his diaper, and is cackling in high pitched, demonic whoops of joy. When the tot continues to evade him, the jinchūriki calls up a shadow clone to head him off—only for the toddler to skid beneath his double’s legs, shrieking in delight.

Eyes still tearing from the death grip Obito has on his scalp, Sasuke darts forward and grabs the little nudist around the middle, depositing him unceremoniously in Naruto’s hands.

“Don’t. Let go. Again,” he growls, his eyes flickering between black and red as returns to the task of separating Obito from his hair. The child is momentarily distracted by the swirling tomoe, and Sasuke ponders the merits of using genjutsu on a baby.

That would probably make him a horrible human being, right?

Behind them, Sakura has gotten a hold of her charge, and grips the little white-haired boy out at arms length, shaking her head in horrified awe.

“We are never reproducing,” she croaks with absolute certainty.

Sasuke blinks and glances up from the infant in his arms. “Wait—what?”

“It’s like having three Narutos!” she continues, not hearing him. “Which is horrifying—and possibly illegal. Why were the two most irresponsible and lazy people we know allowed to breed?”

“Forget that—why were they allowed to have twins?” Naruto complains as he tries to maneuver Shinzō—Pretty sure it’s Shinzō this time, he’s the one with the birth mark above his eyebrow, right?—back into a blanket until he can find the little jerk’s clothing.

“It’s like the gods decided to develop a sense of humour or something.”

“I’d just like to know how I ended up with the baby,” Sasuke interjects reasonably.

“Sakura and I took a vote and decided you were the most responsible.”

Sasuke’s eye twitches. “But she’s the one who saves people’s lives for a living.”

“Okay, we figured the baby was the one you were the least likely to set on fire.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sakura sighs. “This is no different from the D-rank missions we got when we were kids. It should not be this hard!”

“We could always bring them to Kiba,” Sasuke reminds them all.

There is a long beat of silence, where the members of Team 7 exchange mildly disturbed looks with the Sixth Hokage’s spawn.

“I have a better idea!” Naruto declares.

“The five most terrifying words ever spoken,” Sasuke deadpans.

“Battle royale!”

There’s another beat of silence.

“I would punch you, but I’m holding a child,” Sakura informs him with cold politeness.

“That is the most idiotic thing you have ever come up with. And you thought it was a good idea to use your stupid harem jutsu on an ancient goddess.”

“No, seriously, guys, it’s genius!” Naruto protests. “We can set them against each other and they’ll distract each other and pass out, and then we’ll only have to take care of the baby, who will go to sleep once he gets tired of yanking out all of Sasuke’s hair. That’s a sacrifice I’m totally willing to make.”

“You are even less responsible than I thought you were,” Sakura grumbles.

“Oi!”

“And Sasuke, you’re being too quiet.”

The last of the Uchiha has an expression of calculation on his face that his teammates have learned either precedes a genius plan of attack or a mad declaration about attempted world domination. Neither one is a good omen.

“The idea does have merit,” he says after a beat, wincing at another sharp tug from Kakashi’s youngest child.

“Sasuke!”

“No, not what the idiot is suggesting,” he dismisses, impatient. “But we could, in theory, try to teach them some basic techniques. I learned Kakuremino when I was about their age. They can practice until they exhaust their chakra and knock themselves out.”

“See? Even Sasuke thinks it’s a good idea!”

“I never said that.”

“You so did!”

“You two agreeing is not the confidence inspiring event you seem to think it is,” Sakura deadpans. “And teaching them to disappear in plain view? That’s not going to make Manako very happy. She’s going to blame us for corrupting her kids.”

“They’re already corrupt. They’re half Inuzuka. Besides, it’s Kakashi’s fault for assigning us this,” Sasuke points out.

“Yeah! He knows better than to leave us unsupervised!”

“Speak for yourself…”

“Besides, if worse comes to worse, we lose one of them, there are still two left, right? They’ll never notice!”

Sakura shoots Naruto a disgusted look. “You’re a horrible person.”

“Tch. Better tell Hyūga to keep her legs shut around him.”

Naruto splutters. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind,” Sakura interrupts, knowing if she doesn’t that a mountain somewhere will suddenly be reduced to ash—babies in hand or not. “Let’s just…see if they have the attention span to learn this stuff, okay? Preferably before Obito makes Sasuke bald.”

Of course she would love him even if he was bald, but she does prefer him with hair. It’s always nice to have something to hold on to.

Naruto sniggers.

As they head toward their customary training ground, Sasuke clears his throat. “Sakura…”

“Yes?”

“What you said before…you didn’t mean it, did you?”

“Mean what?”

“Because you did make me a promise,” he goes on, raising an eyebrow at her meaningfully.

She stares at him uncomprehending for a moment, and then turns red, recalling her comment on the possibility of future children.

“Oh, for goodness sake!”

“Heh-heh,” Naruto turns to confide in Kuboshi—probably got it wrong before, Shinzō is the one without the birthmark—in a conspiratorial voice. “Sounds like someone else is going to be keeping their legs closed—”

WHUMP!

“Ow!”

終わり

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! I’m only able to keep writing as I do thanks to the encouragement of readers like you, so every bit of support helps! 

栗