#stop flying in the house!<br>- hey

[sbnkalny]

All your base are belong to us! we'll be in row 118,000.- Bye! Barry, I told you,stop Flying in the house! - hey, Adam.- Hey, Barry. - is that fuzz gel?- a little

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[cloudninetonine]

Something funny I thought about in relation to the Player Au is some of the crazy shenanigans the games let you pull and what that would be like for the characters actually experiencing them. Especially when you stop to consider that the games don’t really show Link’s and/or assorted NPCs reactions to various things. Let’s count them off by game, yes?

  * The Original (which I have actually played! Retro-gaming ftw!); you can bomb walls and floors to find secret places that hold everything from shops to fairies to a random moblin who gives you rupees for no apparent reason (I, the player, was confused by that last one. I can only imagine what Hyrule’s reaction must’ve been). You can also accidentally bomb your way into the wrong cave and be charged for “door repairs” by the old man inside it

  * ALTTP; you can buy a bee of all things from a red shield shop in the dark world. Not even the shopkeeper knows why that’s there. And then of course there’s one quest in the game where you have to drag a damned chest across the country only to be given an empty bottle as payment.

  * The Oracle games; bump into Maple enough time in either game and she eventually switches out her broom for a vacuum and in a linked game that gets traded in for a flying saucer! (What the hell Maple?! Where’d you even get those from?!).

In Seasons if you set the weather to winter and go into a normally inaccessible house, there’s a green-haired girl named Holly who says, and I quote, “Hey, you're not Santa!”.

There’s a chest with a single rupee! (Link and Player both would prob be deadpanning and going “are you kidding me...”).

There’s this funny little end-game credits skit in a non-Linked run of Ages where Link tries to teach Ralph how to perform a Spin Attack, and Ralph ends up accidentally doing the Hurricane Spin instead before collapsing from dizziness.

  * Four Swords; you can pick up the pots and throw them, and not just at monsters or to break them but also at the other Links! Which then causes the pot to get stuck on their head for a while as everything goes completely black save the character sprite. Which made this hilarious image pop into my head of one of the colors picking up a pot to throw it at some monster only to completely miss and hit one of the other colors instead. (I’m still not sure which combo is funnier, Blue hitting either Green or Vio, or Vio misjudging his aim and hitting Blue!)

  * Pretty much everything you can do in BoTW. Full stop.

  * Wind Waker; attacking a moblin from behind or using the grappling hook on them nets you some pretty funny animations. The grappling hook is especially so because you actually steal the moblin’s necklace and it’ll actually stare at you for a moment at the audacity.

You can steal a Stalfos’s mace while it’s in pieces and when it reforms it’ll realize what’s missing and try to use one of its own arms as nunchucks.

Drop a bomb into an area with a bunch of moblins and the idiots will attack it, with predictable results.

Drop another and they'll run away panicking!

  * In both BoTW and Wind Waker you can make certain monsters to engage in friendly fire against each other and eventually they’ll start attacking their allies instead of Link in revenge.

  * OoT and Majora’s Mask let you have a bit of fun with the masks. Using the Captain's Hat and the Bremen mask during King of Ikana boss fight is a hoot. (On a slightly unrelated note, the verses books strategy guide for Majora’s Mask is just a riot!)

The fact that in both games you can find cows where they have no business being with no explanation.

  * In nearly every game you can beat nearly every boss (including the big bad!) with either the fishing pole or the bug net!

  * Minish Cap; you can use the Cane of Pacci on nearly everything, including Vaati! Just imagine for a moment what that must look like from an in-game perspective. Throughout the entire final fight, Vaati keeps getting flipped upside-down by this kid who’s probably trying not to break down laughing in the middle of fighting. Player is laughing themselves to tears and is likely the reason Link is having a hard time keeping it together.

Every time you activate a warp marker it explodes for absolutely no reason!

Using the gust jar on a Stalfos will yank its skull off, leaving it to wander around blindly. Even funnier is if there are any pots nearby it’ll try to use that as a replacement, which naturally goes about as well as you’d expect.

  * Hitting the Sheikah Stones in Skyward Sword, Majora’s Mask, and Ocarina of Time all have some comical effects, most commonly being rocketing up and then crashing back down like a badly piloted toy helicopter!

  * Tri Force Heroes; the utter chaos that frequently occurs during co-op. I need not say more.

----------

I won't lie to you, pixie, this post was one hell of a rollacoaster to read but being the daredevil I am I enjoyed every second of it.

I can only begin to imagine half the stuff Guide! Player had probably coaxed the boys into. Some instances leading in happiness, some in confusion and others with said hero with a few or more scraps or possibly being chased. They're a menace, they know it, and they have to use that opportunity to bully those boys (and try and bring smiles to their faces during their darkest hour.)

[cherrytree-irl]

offscreen post: they get their asses kicked (not really)

Sylvan, N, and Linnet arrive at a small, run down house in Virbank City. Sylvan hesitates for a moment, and then knocks on the door.

An unpleasant looking man answers the door. There's another man and a woman standing behind him.

"Who're you?" The man at the door grunts.

"Doesn't matter." Sylvan replies bitingly. "We're here for something you stole." Despite trying his best to sound tough, his voice and his hands are trembling slightly in fear.

Linnet then takes a piece of paper out of her pocket and points to the drawing of her necklace.

"Oho! You want this thing?" The second man taunts, pulling the necklace out of his pocket.

"We were just about to sell that for a pretty penny... you'll have to give us a good reason to give it to you." The woman says.

"Hold on, now." The first man butts in. "I've got a better idea."

The man suddenly grabs Linnet by her shirt and pulls her into the house.

"You're the thing we took this from, right?" The man growls. "How 'bout you come with me? Then you'll have yer precious necklace, and I'll have whatever the fuck you are!"

Sylvan and N yell out in surprise. In sync, they both run to pull Linnet and the man apart; N grabs at and attempts to attack the man, while Sylvan grabs Linnet by the shoulders and attempts to pull her away.

In response to this, the man's backup jump in to fight off Sylvan and N. The second man wraps his arm around Sylvan's throat, pulling him away hard enough to slightly restrict his breathing. The woman grabs N by the hair and yanks him backwards, the shock and the pain forcing him to let go.

Suddenly, a burst of light shoots out of thin air and hurtles towards the man with Linnet in his grasp. Linnet is able to just barely pull out of the way before the lustrous attack sends the man flying across the room, losing his grip on Linnet in the process.

Everyone but Linnet screams in reaction to this, the backup man and woman letting go of Sylvan and N as they run to opposite sides of the room. Linnet smiles from ear to ear, looking out the door at... seemingly nothing.

Then, Linnet points to the man who has her necklace. A strong gust whips through the room and the man is thrown against the wall by an unknown force, the impact leaving him stunned. Linnet runs up to him and takes the necklace, putting it on as she runs towards the door.

Sylvan and N catch up to Linnet, but before the trio can reach the exit, the woman runs up and stands between them and the door.

"You're not getting out of here!" The woman growls.

Linnet makes a shrill cry as she summons a strange, misty ball between her hands. The woman darts out of the way of the attack as Linnet throws the ball towards where she was standing. The trio take that opportunity to rush out the door, as another strange gust of wind rushes past them.

Sylvan slams the door behind them as the three of them run as far from the building as they can befire the adrenaline begins to wear off, hardly having time to ponder the events that just took place.

When they finally stop, all panting and gasping for air, Sylvan says, "We... we did it! We got... your necklace!"

Linnet smiles and twirls around in place.

"Is... is everyone alright?" N asks.

"I... I think i'm okay... are you?" Sylvan answers.

"There's some pain, but... I don't think I'm injured."

"Good, good..."

Then the two of them look to Linnet.

"How're you feeling, pal?" Sylvan asks.

Linnet reaches in her pocket, but realizes she lost the only piece of paper she had with her during the fight.

"Oh, you can't write..." Sylvan says.

Linnet then makes a strange, high pitched call. Or at least, that's what Sylvan hears.

N understands it as, "Can you hear me? I'm okay! Happy!!"

"Oh! Sylvan, she said she's okay!" N says.

"Ah, that's good— wait. Huh?" Sylvan replies, bewildered. "Actually. Hey. What just happened? Like, what was ANY of that?"

Linnet calls out to the sky.

"Brother! Show yourself!" Is what N hears.

"Br—?" N cuts himself off when he sees that, out of thin air, a blue and white dragon Pokémon appears before the group.

"Woah! Is that—?" Sylvan yells, staring at the jet-like dragon in awe.

The Pokémon flies towards Linnet at a high speed. She grabs onto him and the pair spin around in the air, crying out happily.

"Linnet!" N calls out. "This is your brother?"

"Yes!" Linnet replies, in her voice that only N can hear. "Excited!"

Sylvan furrows his brows. "So, you're...!?"

Suddenly, the light around Linnet shifts bizarrely, revealing her true form as a red and white dragon, similar to her brother.

The two Pokémon come closer to N and Sylvan.

Under his breath, Sylvan says, "Latias and Latios..."

Linnet comes up and rubs her head against Sylvan's cheek.

"Thank you! Thank you!" She says, as she does the same thing to N.

"Of course." N replies, earning a curious look from Sylvan.

"She says 'thank you.'" N clarifies.

"Oh! Yeah, 'course...!" Sylvan says.

Latios stares at the two humans from a slight distance. When N meets his gaze, he calmly says,

"Thank you for your help."

"You're very welcome." N responds. Sylvan smiles and nods at Latios.

"We will be taking our leave now." Latios states.

"Aw... yes, I guess we should." Linnet adds. "Goodbye! I'll come visit! Don't forget me!"

"Goodbye, Linnet! Come by anytime! You too, Latios!" N says.

"Oh— yeah, goodbye! See you later!" Sylvan says.

Promptly, Linnet and her brother turn away and fly off, leaving N and Sylvan behind.

"Well, I suppose that's our cue to head home." N says.

"Man..." Sylvan contemplates. "What am I gonna tell Rotomblr?"

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

PLAYING WITH THE BOYS

PART 4; YOUR MONEY DOESN'T MATTER

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of character death, grief, allusions to sex, nothing major.

Summary: Robin hadn't expected to have such a heart to heart with him and now she was unsure of what to do.

Wordcount: 2.8k

Robin was sitting in her kitchen, drinking some water as she waited for Bradley to turn up when her 15 year old sister walked in. 

They'd always been close despite their sixteen year age gap and shared everything with each other. She was only 9 when she'd heard of the man nicknamed Rooster who broke her half-sister's heart and only eleven when the accident happened that stopped her sister from flying anymore. 

"You look nice, why are you all dressed up?" You got a date with a cute naval aviator?" She questioned, sitting down on the bar stool next to her. Amelia was right, Robin did seem a bit dressed up. Compared to her normal office-like attire, she was wearing a black jeans and a dark green corset top with her signature leather jacket over the top. 

"I don't know what you're talking about Amelia," she said, taking another sip from her drink. 

To make matters worse, the doorbell rang and before Robin had a chance to get there, Amelia had sprinted to the door, opening it up. She gawked at the attractive older man in front of her before turning around to look at Robin in shock. 

"Hey Amelia, you probably don't remember me, it's Br-" he started and she cut him off. 

"Bradley Bradshaw," she stated, welcoming him into the house, her mouth still slightly agape. 

He looked like he had cleaned up as well for the night in a pair of blue jeans, his white tank top and a Hawaiian shirt over the top - although that is what he always seems to look like. 

"Hey Rob," he said, a soft smile on his face as he looked over at her. 

She picked up her bag, walking over, "I'll see you later okay 'melia," she said and her sister scrunched her face up. 

"How late is this date going on for?" The girl asked as she looked between her sister and the attractive man in their hallway. 

"It's not a date, I'm catching up with an old friend," she said, not seeing the way that Bradley's face sank at the word 'friend', "And I won't be home too late," 

The two walked out of his door and towards his car and she chuckled, "You still have this old thing," she said, running a hand over the door before jumping into the passenger's seat. 

"We had a lot of fun in here didn't we?" He questioned with a chuckle. 

She sighed, looking away from him and remembering all the times he had held her in the back as the sunset or the time she'd been bent over the hood in the seclusion of his garden. And then all the pain came flooding back in, remembering as she'd watched him drive off into the distance without saying a proper goodbye.

"I don't want to talk about that right now," she said. 

He nodded, understanding her request as he began to drive. Amelia and Penny were watching from the window as the two began to drive off, not looking at each other. 

"How much do you bet she'll bring him home tonight?" Amelia asked, turning to her mum. 

"Amelia!" She exclaimed, shaking her head before looking out the window again, "Ten bucks,"

In the car, Robin and Bradley had made small talk about the mission, nothing deep and the air was tense and awkward. She recognised the road he was taking immediately and sighed. 

"We're going to the hills?" She questioned, one arm resting on the door as she turned to look at him.

He nodded, smiling at her before continuing to focus his eyes on the road. He knew how much she loved the hills and the sight when the stars were out so he was hoping it would be easier to talk to her if she was in a familiar setting. 

She sighed, "You mean the place you took me for our first date?" 

"Well, second date. Our first date was at the small restaurant near the Hard Deck," Bradley stated, turning to look at her before the gravelled pathway forced him to focus on the road. 

"I don't know if I'd call it our first date, but let's agree to disagree," she said as the car came to a stop. 

They were the only ones in the parking lot at the top of the hill and she smiled as she looked out at the stars in front of her. Despite having lived here for the last three years, she hadn't come back to the place that held so much sentimentality. 

She leant her head against her hand, looking out at the night sky, not even acknowledging his presence at the moment. From here she could see everything, the beach, the small cafes and restaurants, the hangars, it was all there. 

Bradley just gazed at her. In the night sky with the moon being one of the only main lights to illuminate her face and he thought she was beautiful. He had missed this more than he would care to admit. 

He wanted to reach out and tuck the hair away from her face and he wanted to brush the pads of his coarse fingers across her smooth skin like he used to do. 

There were many things that she had always loved about him, one being his strange personality. He was stubborn and cocky but around her he showed his soft side. Everyone on base had noticed that, nobody daring to mention it to him despite how obvious it was. 

They made polite small talk, about their jobs, their life, their family. Neither quite knew how to get back into the rhythm they had when they were both friends but were definitely getting there. 

"So when did you move back here?" He asked, leaning back in the chair and looking over at her. 

"Three years ago. Mum had bought the bar, I'd just gotten my job at Top Gun and so I moved in with them again and it's been great," she explained, looking over at him. 

In the moonlight he looked just like the boy from seven years ago and it hurt a bit but she would never admit that to him.

"You uh, you got a boyfriend around here?" He asked, trying to seem cool about it. 

She just chuckled, "No, I've had a few in the last seven years. Didn't work out great," she explained, not going into detail about it, "I'm sure Rooster has been getting tons of ladies though,"

He laughed, looking over at her, "Oh yeah, tons but they didn't stay," he joked. Bradley was lying. He didn't want to tell her that although he had flirted with hundreds of women and slept with a handful of them, he wasn't able to date one. None of them had ever compared to Robin. 

Every time he'd start dating a woman, or at least try to, he'd get scared. They weren't funny like she was or as confident or as annoying. They didn't like to watch cartoons on a Sunday morning like a child or like pineapples on pizza or play the sudoku game that their dad sends them to do any of the things Robin liked to do. None of them compared, not even a little bit. 

The silence was awkward, neither of them knew what to say as they looked out at the sunset. They'd come here before when they were in Top Gun. It was always beautiful and it always ended with them making out. 

"Why's you ghost me?" Robin blurted out, the words tumbling off of her tongue before she could stop them. 

Bradley tensed up, unsure of what to say. How does one tell the girl of their dreams that they were too scared that they would end up like his father. How could he tell her that he didn't want to fall in love with her and have kids only for him to die and leave him in the same way his father did. 

He let out a shaky breath, "What do you mean?" He asked back, turning to look at her. 

Robin's face had gone red, a habit of hers whenever she was nervous or awkward. "I mean, we were doing so well. We spent five weeks together and then the whole next 6 weeks of summer when neither of us had any missing together here," she sighed, "I thought there was something between us,"

"There was," he stated. 

She just scoffed, shaking her head, "Brad, you didn't answer any of my calls, you ignored me for a month so I gave you your space, I know you need it sometimes. So I called Maverick,"

"You called Maverick? About me?" He questioned, a look of genuine shock on his face. 

"Yeah. He told me you had spent the last month at your mother's. So I drove 12 hours, over 800 miles from here to the other side of California to your house," she explained, tears welling up in her eyes. 

Guilt overcame Bradley as he saw the girl he cared so much about get upset over something that he'd done. He regretted it now but he still doesn't see any other choice. It was easier if he broke her heart now then leaving her a widow in the future. 

"You went to visit my mother?" The questions just kept coming as he realised her side of the story. 

"Yeah, and I never made it there because I saw you and some pretty blonde walking down the street, your arm around her shoulders. So I left," she explained, biting her lip as she began to feel the tears welling up in her eyes. 

"I didn't cheat on you," he stated, eyebrows furrowed together as he looked at her. 

He couldn't believe that she had thought he'd cheated on her. They had broken up by that point and anyway, it was just a friend - one who he did eventually sleep with - but at the time they were just friends. 

Robin scoffed, trying to discreetly wipe the tears from her eyes, "Yeah right, why don't I believe you?" 

"I had my reasons, you've got to believe me that I did it so you would have a better life, one that wasn't with me," he explained, taking her hands in his. The soft touch of her hand against his made him melt slightly into her touch, just wanting to hold her forever. 

To his surprise she didn't jerk her hands away, instead keeping them in his. "I would have been happy with you Brad, you didn't try," she stated, looking away from him for a second before looking back into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes guilty and full of regret as he wondered what his life would have been like if he'd just stuck it out. 

Would they be married? With kids maybe? Would they have drifted apart amicably knowing that they'd tried? 

"I just don't understand why, I think that's the only issue here," she said, pulling her hands back and placing them in her lap so she didn't have to feel the sickening sense of comfort she had from his warm touch. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated. 

Bradley couldn't articulate his words properly. How do you tell your ex-girlfriend that you still love her after spending seven years apart? 

He could still remember the day his father died when he was only small. His mother had collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably and he knew at that moment that if he was to be a pilot like his father, he was never going to be able to do that to someone that he loved. 

It was silent after that. There were still so many questions left unanswered and so many things left unsaid but they had time to open up to one another again before the mission.

"I, uh, Maverick told me why you dropped out of being a WSO," he said, breaking the awkward silence by making it even more awkward. 

"If you're here to tell me that it was an accident and that I should get over it, I don't want to hear it," Robin said, a bitter tone to her voice as she looked away from him. 

Around 6 months after they had broken up, she still had no contact with him. She had been flying as the WSO with her best friend, Allana 'Lock' Mahoney, when the plane malfunctioned and the girl panicked. Despite both of their efforts to try to keep it in the air, they began to hurtle down into the mountains they had been training in. They had ejected but Allana had hit a tree on the way down. 

When Robin had found her, the girl's head had been bludgeoned in and there was no chance of survival at all. She was dead on sight. Robin had broken her leg, something that had healed rather quickly but was a physical scar of the trauma she went through. 

"Lock's death wasn't your fault," he stated and she sighed, shaking her head with a frustrated laugh. 

"You don't understand. As a woman in this business, I have to work ten times harder than you do. When she crashed, she crashed because she was a woman who couldn't handle flying a plane," she explained, her voice raised. 

Bradley had never thought about it this way, he'd always been the best of the best and although he knew the prejudice that the girls faced in this business, he had never thought about how it had affected her. 

"I quit because I was scared but I also knew that even though I was cleared for her death, I would never be seen as a good pilot ever again," Robin was tearing up at this point. 

"Come here," he whispered and he nodded, allowing him to pull her in for a hug. 

She treasured the warmth of his touch and how the elated feeling hadn't gone away after all this time. She still found the same comfort in his touch and she assumed he felt the same by the tight way he held her, like he didn't want to let go. 

She pulled back, allowing him to gently wipe the tears from her eyes before she recoiled, sitting back in her seat. 

"I could have really used you then Brad," she said, pursing her lips together, unsure of what to say next. 

"I'm sorry love, for everything," he said and she wanted to think that he was being truthful but she wasn't sure anymore. 

"Please don't call me that," Robin stated. He had always called her that when they were together and even now she could still feel the butterflies in her stomach as he said that.

But she hated it. 

She should hate him more than anything else in the world but she didn't. In fact, she had missed him. She missed running her hands through his hair at night, or the nicknames he'd call her. She missed it all. 

They sat and talked until the sound of planes died out in the distance. They laughed together like old times and for a minute they both saw glimpses of the past and the future that they could have had. 

Bradley swore under his breath as he checked his watch, not realising they'd been sitting there for four hours talking to one another. 

"We've been here four hours!" He exclaimed.

"What!" She reached over, grabbing his wrist and reading the clock face, "Shit! My mums gonna be so mad," Robin looked over at him, a dumbfounded look on her face, "What are you doing stupid, drive!"

He chuckled, starting up the engine and beginning to drive back to her house. 

When they made it back she jumped out, running to the door before turning round and looking at him. He had this peaceful smile on his face, one she never expected to see again but not she had she never wanted to unsee it. 

"Thanks for tonight Brad, I really appreciate it," she said, flashing him a toothy grin before opening the door, waving goodbye before walking inside. 

She sighed, leaning her head against the door as she allowed the giddy smile to appear on her face. 

Amelia raised an eyebrow as she stood at the end of the hallway, looking at her sister, "So he's just a friend?" She questioned, putting the word 'friend' in quotation marks. 

"Shut up," the older girl sneered, still unable to wipe the smile from her face. 

Series Masterlist Part 5

A/N, This is the longest chapter I've done but I hope that you enjoyed it because I loved writing it. My exams have started again so the post may be a bit delayed but I'll try to get them up as soon as possible.

Taglist:

If you want to be added you can message me or send me an ask or just comment, I don't mind

@n3ssm0nique @sparrows-corner @littlewhiterose @serrendippity @clairejpg @marytvirgin @uglyratlmao   @blessupblessup @daniekay7190 @ipractical-joker @sydneejean @storyteller-le @mmkkzz @theforevermorereject

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2!  I hope y'all like it!

Title: Succession Chapter 2

Characters: female reader, Karl Heisenberg, Salvatore Moreau, lycans, mentions of OC

Rating: PG-13 for images of gore, scenes of terror, possible kidnapping trigger warnings

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova has died and you are his sole beneficiary.  You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It’s unusual how your senses come back to you when you regain consciousness after a trauma.  You couldn’t see at first or maybe it was that your hearing arrived before you opened your eyes.  It felt as if a pair of sound cancelling headphones were slowly pulled from your ears.  Then followed your sense of touch.  Blistering cold hit your skin and seemed to seep in and nestle into your bones.  It felt sharp and painful against your cheek as if someone were drawing a scalpel across your flesh.  Pain surged to the forefront and with that, you finally opened your eyes.

It was dark inside the cabin of the plane, the only light being the natural light shining through the damage to the hull.  The window next to you was shattered and you felt cuts along your arm.  The seatbelt had you secured to your seat and it was cutting into your stomach, adding to the all-over pain in your body.  The air mask was still secure over your mouth.  Lifting your hand shakily to remove the mask, you took in your surroundings.

The wind whipping outside the plane was the only thing you could hear.  You listened for the voices of any passengers, whether they be whispers, cries, or shouts for help.  It was as quiet as a tomb.

“Br-Bruce?” you whispered, looking towards his seat.  The darkened plane made you strain your eyes in order to see him.  His body was slumped away from you, his bottom half held still by his seat belt.  You slowly reached for him and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you.  His body slid against his seat before slumping towards you.  His eyes were open.  The air mask was over his mouth.  You pulled the mask from his head to see if he was breathing.  His mouth hung open.  He was dead.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, your body beginning to shake.  He was the only person you knew on this flight.  You didn’t know what to do or who to call out for.  “Hello?” you croaked as you lifted your head to look over the seat before you.  Your throat was scratchy and sore from the cold air.  “Can anyone hear me?  Help!!”  You were met with silence.  

Surely someone had to be alive.  You couldn’t be the sole survivor in this crash.  Reaching down for the clasp of the seatbelt, you pressed the button and released yourself.  You took one last look at Bruce’s lifeless body as you crawled over him and into the aisle.  “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, running your hand over the top of his head.

The plane was a mangled mess, suitcases and bags strewn everywhere from the impact.  Bodies were in the aisle and tossed across seats and hanging over the armrests.  “Is anyone alive?” you asked in a raised voice.

You stepped over bodies and suitcases, holding on to the seats on either side of you.  The wind from outside blew into the cabin, blowing your hair around your face.  You were freezing and quaking from the cold.  The clothing you were wearing was not enough to keep you warm.  Thankfully, you remembered the flight attendants taking coats at the beginning of the flight and placing them in a small closet towards the front of the plane.  Finding the closet, you pried it open, finding the heaviest coat inside, and put it on.

Making your way towards an area that had been split open from the crash, you continued looking around for survivors.  You listened closely for any voices, hoping and praying that someone else had survived.

Panic began to set in once you exited the plane.  Snow coated the ground.  Trees stood gangly and devoid of leaves.  The clouds above were thick and vast, hiding any trace of sunlight.  You looked around for houses or buildings...for any signs of life.

You trudged around the debris, searching for a path or road that could lead to civilization.  The village that you had seen from the plane couldn’t be far from where the plane had crashed.  Maybe you could knock on doors and use someone’s phone to call for help.  Or the black box...every plane had a black box.  Surely someone had been notified that the plane went down or where it disappeared from radar.

You continued walking around the plane, looking high and low for anything.  The snow crushed under your shoes.  You slipped and fell a few times from icy patches under the snow.  Pulling the coat tighter around you, you shoved your hands into the pockets, rubbing your body to keep them warm.

As you were coming back around to where you had exited the plane, a noise came from inside.  Suitcases rustled and fell over and you heard an audible grunt. Oh thank god, you thought, someone is alive!  Perhaps someone finally regained consciousness and is trying to get out and get help.  You ran around the plane and peered inside.

A man was hunched over a body, his clothing tattered and torn.  He was pressing on the person’s chest, shaking the body, perhaps trying to perform CPR.

“Hey!” you called out to the man, your voice filled with hope and relief that you were not the only person that survived.  The man stopped and slowly turned towards you.  

What looked back at you was not the face of a survivor...or that of a human being.  Tousled hair laid in a tangled heap on its head.  The lips pulled back showing a row of jagged teeth.  The eyes were devoid of anything that could be described as a soul.  You listened as a low growl slipped from its mouth.  Its mouth and hands were covered in blood and only then did it dawn on you that it was not performing CPR...it was feasting on the body.

“What the fuck?!?” you yelped, falling backwards in the snow.  You scrambled away as the thing crawled from inside of the plane, advancing towards you.  It let out a loud bark and a snarl, its eyes absolutely feral.

You jumped to your feet, turning to retreat and let out a loud scream.  Two other things just like the one behind you blocked your escape.  They were equally as terrifying...eyes, claws, fangs, and tattered clothing.  What the hell were they??

You broke off to your right and ran towards the trees, hoping to lose them in the forest.  A loud howl sounded from one of them and the other two snarled deep in their throats.  Your heart was hammering in your chest as you ran as fast as your legs could take you.  Adrenaline pumped throughout your body.  You did not risk looking behind you for fear that it would hinder your escape.  

The sound of their feet running in the sloshy snow began to increase and you knew they were getting closer.  Oh god, oh god, they’re gonna kill me!

You saw a flash of something from the corner of your eye before feeling a large form shove into you and send you flying into a hill of snow.  Rolling onto your back, you looked as a fourth monster stood before you, drool dripping from its teeth.  It wrapped its hand around the tree next to it and stared you down.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” you yelled.  The other three that had been chasing you joined up with the fourth and you knew that you were no match for all of them.  Your heart beat wildly and you were frozen with fear, not knowing when they were going to pounce.  One of them lunged forward, its hand gripping your ankle.  As it leered over you, it let out a howl...and you screamed.

“Stop!” a voice sounded from behind the beasts.  All four creatures stopped and turned towards the voice, standing straight and obedient.  They parted and allowed the person to approach.

Person...the thing that approached you was not a person, but also was not like the feral animals that had been chasing you.  Your eyes went wide and your mouth dropped open as a hunchbacked figure started hobbling towards you and the creatures.  A large black cloak covered its body.  As it came closer, you noticed long, thin arms...a humped back with a rippled form...and thin legs that ambled slowly towards you.  The creatures watched the thing walk past them and closer to you.  The face was grotesque, jagged teeth sticking out from under gray lips.  The skin was pale and appeared sickly.  An intense odor of fish and sweat formed around it.  You had to breathe through your mouth to keep from gagging.

“Are y-you okay?” the thing asked, hobbling closer to you.  Panic and adrenaline still surged in your body and you crawled backwards to keep distance between the two of you.  He noticed and stopped, slowly lifting his hands in front of him.  “Don’t be sc-scared,” the thing stammered, “I won’t hu-hurt you.  And the lycans...won’t hurt...you ei-either.”

You looked back at the four monsters that stood behind the hunchback.  They stood still, snarling and breathing heavily.  The wind rustled the hair on their heads.  The thing before you took another step forward and held out his hand.  “My name...is...Salvatore Moreau,” he said, beckoning you to take his hand.  

You stood on your own, falling backwards a few steps in order to keep your distance.  Moreau whimpered and bent forward, taking a step back in order to respect your boundaries.  “I won’t touch...you...I don’t...w-want you to be...afraid of m-me…”  

His words made you lessen your defenses a bit.  He looked like a monster just like the wolf-like creatures behind him, but none of them advanced on you or tried to harm you.  You finally found your voice.

“I was in a plane crash,” you murmured, unsure of what to do next, “I don’t think anyone else is alive…”

Moreau looked back towards the wreckage and then over at the things behind him.  Upon seeing one of them covered in fresh blood, he turned back towards you.  “My lycans...sm-smelled fresh blood...they always run...towards...fre-fresh blood…”

You winced at the man’s deformed figure and his stuttered ramblings.  Who were these things?  Where the fuck were you?

“Can you help me?” you asked warily, taking a step towards him, “is there a phone? Can we call for help?”

Moreau bent forward in a coughing fit and retched.  Green vomit gushed from his mouth and into the white snow.  Steam rose from the vomit and you couldn’t stop yourself from gagging and putting your hand over your mouth.  He heaved a few more times before looking back at you.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “the fish...and my body...they don’t get a-along…”

What the fuck is going on, you thought.  Was this an area that had fallen victim to radiation or poisoning in the water system?  You tried to calculate in your mind how far away you were from Chernobyl...maybe what was going on here was similar to what went on there all those years ago.

“The only...ph-phone is at Alcina’s castle…” Moreau continued.  

The castle?!  The castle that you saw from overhead?!  This was perfect! Maybe you could call for help and find your way to the embassy in this country and let them know that you were on a plane to Moldova.  Surely the airline will wonder why their plane did not touch down at its destination and come looking for survivors.

“Can you take me to the castle, Mr. Moreau?” you asked, the first ounce of hope shining through.

“What the fuck is going on over here?!?!?!”

A gruff voice sounded from behind the lycans and all of you turned towards the sound.  You watched as a man trudged through the snow, making his way over to the motley crew.  He wore a black wide brimmed hat and a long brown trench coat with a tan shirt and brown pants underneath.  A massive hammer sat across his shoulder with one hand gripping the long handle.  The man’s gaze went from each lycan to Moreau...and finally resting on you.

“Well...who do we have here?” the man asked, pushing his way past Moreau.  Upon closer inspection you saw that the man wore a pair of rounded lens sunglasses.  You heard the clang of metal hanging around his neck as he moved closer.  An amused smile spread across his mouth.  You cleared your throat audibly.

“My name is Y/N and I was on the plane that crashed a few yards that way,” you murmured, pointing back towards the wreckage.  Despite not being able to see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze.  It was piercing, searching...as if he could see deep inside of you.  It was equal parts unnerving and exhilarating, although you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

“Is that so?” the man asked, swinging his hammer around and setting it down in the snow.  He stepped in front of you, holding out his hand.  You kept your gaze on his face as you placed your hand in his.  “My name is Karl Heisenberg,” he greeted, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it.  You shivered at his kiss,  not knowing what came over you.  It felt as if electrical charges flowed from his lips and down your skin, making your flesh erupt in goose bumps.

“Poor little pussycat,” Heisenberg remarked, looking you up and down, “the wreckage looks unbelievable.  You must be positively traumatized…”

You nodded your head and lowered your hand back to your side.  A gust of wind shook you to your core and you tightened the coat around yourself.  “Umm...yes...Mr. Moreau here was telling me that there was a phone nearby...we could call for help…”

Heisenberg slowly turned his gaze back towards Moreau.  You looked past him and saw that the deformed man cowered under Heisenberg’s gaze, taking a step backwards as if contemplating fleeing.  Heisenberg turned back to you and flashed you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, my dear,” Heisenberg said, reaching to pick up his hammer, “come with me and we will surely find aid and assistance in the village…”

“We could ask Mother…” Moreau began, taking a step towards you and Heisenberg.

“Shut up, you freak!” Heisenberg snapped at Moreau.  Your jaw dropped as you looked between the two men.  Moreau bowed his head and retreated a few steps.  You felt sorry for the poor man as you looked up at Karl Heisenberg and started to feel disdain for the man.  Moreau was about to offer advice and was met with hostility.  The poor man was not pleasant to look at, sure, but from what you could tell, he was harmless and seemed sincere and ready to help.  You would sooner ask for Moreau’s help than Heisenberg’s help at that point.

“Thank you, Mr. Heisenberg,” you began, “but Moreau was telling me of a phone in a castle not far from here that I could use…”  But as you were about to continue, Heisenberg held his hand up to silence you.

“Forgive me for my brash tone,” Heisenberg interrupted, “but my brother here does not know what he is talking about.  Please, if you would accompany me to my factory, I have a working telephone there that you can use…”

You felt a growing sliver of fear in the pit of your stomach.  The man before you was charismatic and confident, but there was something off about him.

“I think I’ll follow Moreau…” you murmured, moving around Heisenberg to go to Moreau.  A sudden movement and Heisenberg’s gloved hand wrapped around your arm, stopping your retreat.

“Oh, no, ma’am...I insist you come with me…” Heisenberg growled.

You tried to pull your arm from his grasp, but his fingers only tightened.  His grip began to hurt.  “Let go of me,” you said, trying to pull away.  He jerked your body closer to him as he looked down into your frightened face.

“There is no use arguing or putting up a fight, pussycat,” Heisenberg leered, “you’re coming with me…”  And with that, he released your arm and swiftly wrapped his arm around your waist, hauling you against him, and walked back from where he came.

“MOREAU!” you screamed as Heisenberg marched away with you in tow.  Heisenberg turned towards the man and shot him a murderous glare.  “You keep your mouth shut about this…” he spat at Moreau, “...not a fucking word or I’ll kill you…”  The hunchback only nodded and bowed his head.

“STOP!  LET GO!!  MOREAU!” you shouted, wriggling against Heisenberg’s grip on your waist.  The feeble man only stood there helpless, looking down at the snow.  His lycans began their retreat, disappearing into the forest.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Moreau whimper as Heisenberg dragged you off.

[goldandbluesmiles]

Unwavering.

Summary: Bruce has a near-death experience and becomes a guest to some familiar figures.

Ao3

Part of my btafam flufftober2020

Note: Written for a prompt by @bane-rights-writes Hope I did it justice! Also tagging @fictionalguystalker cause they asked. Hope you enjoy!

Unwavering.

That's how they described him.

It didn't matter if he was Bruce, Batman, or even Brucie. A father, a son, a friend, a hero, a businessman and or an airhead. Unwavering, or some synonym, always came up in a conversation when describing him.

Batman was unwavering in his support, in his justice, in his ideals.

Bruce was unwavering with his faith, kindness and dedication.

Brucie could hold a room at the edge while tipsy on champagne.

Unwavering. That's what it was.

The hero was unwaveringly steadfast. The father was unwaveringly devoted. The son was similarly loyal. The businessman was dedicated to a fault. The airhead was always reaching out, whether it was good for him or not. The friend was always there, even when you weren't aware.

Unwaveringly. That was just how he did things.

At least, that was how it had been.

And then Robin fell and Bruce lost his baby.

These days Batman was violent. The hero had started to disappear in smoke. The father had become distant and the son was barely there enough to say a word. The businessman was becoming a mess and the party boy everyone knew had retreated into a shell. The friend had disappeared and Bruce Wayne seemed to be walking empty.

The man knew he had to do something, he knew he was hurting them, all of them. He knew his son would have been ashamed.

He just...The darkness was just so much easier.

xxx

Batman should have seen the hit coming but he was tired and angry and not thinking straight.

Joker goons. All dressed like their psychotic master.

Batman hadn't been paying proper attention, he had slipped, maybe by accident and maybe on purpose but he did slip. When the thug behind him came with a lead pipe, there was no one there to watch his back.

If he had stayed awake, he would have felt that pipe, and many more, beating into him. He would have heard Agent A's voice begging him to get up and then promising to rescue him.

Instead, he was already far far away.

xxx

Bruce woke up slowly, almost like he was emerging from still tar. The first thing that came into view were treetops, a little bit of blue sky peeking through.

Getting his bearings right, Bruce gingerly sat up. Looking around he could see that he was in a place with a lot of trees and on further analyzation a very familiar place with a lot of trees.

The woods behind the lake house.

Bruce remembered running out here once and getting lost. The sun had been setting, the winter evening turning frigid and he had been so scared that he would never find his way back to his parents again.

His father had found him though, had picked him up and held him close and shushed him all the way back to the lake house. There, his mother had also hugged him and they had all sat down to drink hot chocolate by the fire.

It was one of Bruce's earliest memories.

In the present, he got up and started to walk in the lake house's direction by memory. He had taken the path so many times, some alone and some with his boys, that his feet knew where to go by their own volition.

As he neared the edge of the woods, he heard the sweet sound of a child's laugh. A very familiar laugh.

Hurrying so much that he was practically running, Bruce quickly made his way to the edge of the woods and froze.

From where he was standing, he had a clear view of the back porch.

A steady beam of sunlight seemed to be falling on the building. On the porch, there was a small round table for three with lemonade and biscuits. Just off the porch, there was a woman dancing with a young boy, both their laughter mixing together though the child was much louder.

"Mom," he whispered, scarcely believing his eyes and ears, "Jason,"

"Yes, son," murmured a voice from beside him, "It is them,"

He whirled around and nearly dropped from shock.

"Dad," he said softly

Thomas Wayne stood there in all his glory, full head of hair, bushy mustache, vibrant blue eyes and the suit he had been wearing on the night he had died. Not looking a day over, thirty-six.

"Hey, Kiddo,"

Bruce sobbed and practically collapsed into his father's arms. Thomas held him close, gently shushing him and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

"It's alright, Bruce. It's alright,"

"Dad," he whispered

"Dad!" called out another voice

Bruce jerked out of his father's arms just in time to catch a small bundle flying toward him. He hugged his son close to him, holding him so he was being crushed to his chest.

"Jaylad, Jay, my baby," he cried, "You're here Jason, you're here,"

"'Course I'm here, ya big boob. Stop ya whinin' and hug your ma,"

Bruce smiled and still holding on to his boy, he turned to Martha Wayne. His mom gave him a soft look before engulfing him in her arms.

"Oh my boy," she murmured, "How you have grown. Alfred did a wonderful job with you,"

"Yeah," he murmured into her shoulder, "Yeah. He did,"

"Come sit," she told him mas she pulled away

Bruce swung Jason onto his back making the boy giggle and shriek. They all headed toward the table where Bruce kneeled in front of his son.

"I'm so sorry, Jaylad," he whispered, "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough,"

Jason tilted his head in confusion.

"Dunno what you're sayin' Bruce," said Jason, "I'm gonna grab another glass,"

With that, the boy turned and ran inside.

"Come sit," said Thomas, gesturing toward the table

"So, tell us," said Martha as they sat down, "How have you been?"

"That's a long, complicated story, mom," said Bruce

"Tell us,"

He started from his teenage years, narrating his school experience, good and bad, an edited version of his travels, his time as Batman, adopting Dick, adopting Jason. Somewhere between all that, Jason had come back and climbed into Bruce's lap. It was a little awkward considering that Jason wasn't as small as he used to be when he was a young boy but Bruce made it work. He wasn't about to let his son go.

Bruce ended his story before he got to the part about Jason's death. If his boy wanted to ignore it, he would too.

"Colourful life you've had," said Thomas

"Yes, it has been," said Bruce smiling down at Jason, the sunlight starting to make him drowsy.

"I think you still have many years to live that colourful life," said Martha, voice even so gentle

He held Jason close, though the boy didn't seem to notice, staring off into the distance.

"I want to stay,"

"You don't belong here," said Thomas

Bruce could feel his desperation clawing at his insides.

"But I- I really wanna stay, Dad," he said

"Jason," his mother said gently, "Come here,"

Bruce tried to grab the boy but he sprang away from him and straight into Martha's arms. She stood up and took him off the porch, where they started to dance again to a tune only they could hear.

"You have to go back," said Thomas

"But why?" whispered Bruce, "It's so peaceful here,"

"But isn't there someone else waiting for you,"

Someone else.

Bruce

That sounded like-

Bruce, please.

Oh god.

I still need you, B.

Dick

I'm so sorry Bruce. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'll be better.

Nonononono. Dick.

"Go, son," murmured Thomas, "We'll be fine,"

Bruce stood up and bolted from the table. Jason waved to him as he ran by an ad he stopped long enough to give him son a hug.

"I love you," he whispered to him

"Run along, ya big boob,"

Bruce ran back into the forest where he had woken. As he went past the trees, they seemed to disappear, turning into wisps of nothing.

Bruce, please wake up.

The darkness seemed to be growing around him but Brue didn't care. He kept following the voice.

I love you, B.

Out of the darkness that had not surrounded him, a small beam of light appeared.

Dad.

"Dick,"

xxx

Dick had lost track of how long he had been sitting there, saying things as if they would bring Bruce out of his comma. Alfred was hopeful. Leslie had taken off the oxygen when Bruce had started breathing on his own, telling them that it was a good sign. However, it had been five days and the man still hadn't woken up.

Dick had barely left his side alternating between telling him funny stories and begging for him to wake up. After the first day, Alfred had put his foot down and made a schedule for him so he could take care of himself. According to said schedule, it was now time for him to get up and take a walk in the garden.

Not wanting to upset the man, especially when he had so much on his mind already, Dick started to get up, squeezing Bruce's hand as he did so.

Except for this time, Bruce squeezed back.

Dick stilled. had he imagined-no there it was again.

"Dad," he said, "Dad,"

Bruce stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

"Dick,"

Dick could have cried from relief.

"Yes, yes it's me, B," he said

"Dick," Bruce repeated, eyes coming to focus on him

"Yeah," whispered Dick, squeezing his hand, "Let me just call Alfred,"

Alfred was called and came down as fast as he could. He checked the man over and deemed him fit and fine.

"Don't you scare me like that again, my boy," said Alfred

Bruce, who now seemed much more present, smiled, "I'm sorry, Alfie,"

"Hmm," murmured Alfred, "Well, I have some calls to make and I am sure you two would like some time alone,"

Dick sat down and took Bruce's hand again.

"You really scared me, B,"

Bruce looked at him for a few moments and then smiled sadly.

"I haven't been a really good paren have I?"

Dick stilled, "No, Bruce I didn't mean- I mean I'm an adult now and-"

"Dick," he murmured squeezing his hand gently, "I know I haven't been great. I'm gonna change that,"

"You were grieving," said Dick

"So were you," returned Bruce, "I should have listened to you. I'm going to change some things now. I'm gonna talk to Dinah and get help and I'm gonna get better and I will try harder to be a better dad. I promise I will try,"

"Wow," said Dick, tears springing up in his eyes, "Must have been some hit to the head,"

Bruce smiled and pulled him in for a hug.

"You have no idea," he sid into Dick's shoulder

Dick didn't know what that meant and at the moment he didn't care, he was just glad to be hugging his dad again, feeling light the first time in months.

xxx

Batman, Bruce, Brucie Wayne.

The father, the son, the hero, the friend, the businessman and the airhead party boy.

Take him in any form and the man was unwavering in his own way.

He hadn't been for a while though. Not since his little bird fell and he lost a son.

But maybe, just maybe, with a little motivation and a little more help, he could be again.

Just maybe.

[doc-pickles]

i won’t hesitate (for you) chapter eight

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter’s world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

Hey friends... So it's been over a month.... I bet you guys thought this story was done... Honestly for a moment I did too and I was super bummed because I love this story so much. But stepping away from my writing and focusing on myself did the trick and I am now happy to report that I have the WHOLE ENTIRE rest of Hesitate planned out and I'm slowly (very slowly) chipping away at writing to make those plans a reality. Thanks to all of you for being so patient and for wanting me to continue this project!! You're the beeeeeest!! xoxo Nina

-

“Jo… Jo come back to bed, baby. Alarm doesn’t go off for ten minutes.”

Izzie stared down Alex’s still sleeping figure, watching him for a moment before continuing to walk around the room and get ready for the day. Every morning for the past week, Alex would always call out for Jo when Izzie got out of bed for work. She didn’t think he knew, but the words annoyed her more and more everyday.

“Babe, come back,” Alex groaned, rolling on to his stomach and reaching out for the side of the bed that Izzie had just left. “Jo… Jo…”

“I’m not Jo, Alex,” Izzie exclaimed in frustration, prompting Alex to fly up in bed and look from the empty side of the bed to Izzie. “I am not Jo! And I never will be and if that’s a problem for you, then you can run back to Seattle!”

“Izzie no… I’m sorry I,” Alex ran a hand through his hair and let out a groan. “I wanna stay here for the kids but I… I don’t think you and I are going to work out this time.”

“Why would it ever? You’re just the same pathetic man I left ten years ago,” Izzie threw a pillow towards Alex as she walked out of the bedroom. “I can’t believe you, Alex. Actually I can! You’re still not good enough for me.”

-

Deep breaths. In, out, in, out. Good, you can do this. Today will be a breeze.

Jo had found out about her pregnancy a month ago and every day since then had consisted of her trying to keep her breakfast down. Some days were better than others, but today might be the worst. She’d had to break out her elastic banded scrubs this morning because her regular scrubs wouldn’t pull up over her hips. The elastic was much more comfortable, but the thought of her body changing again had sent Jo into a fit of tears on the bathroom floor which resulted in her throwing up for almost 20 minutes.

“Karev! I’ve got an abdominal obstruction and I think we’re gonna need an emergency colostomy surgery,” Owen sidled up to Jo as the two walked into the ER, the older man sending Jo a grin. “But that’s up to you of course. Good luck!”

Jo grabbed the chart outside Trauma Room 2, entering the room with a forced smile. Her stomach had been flipping back and forth since she woke up this morning and she’d thrown up twice before she came into work. Apparently her baby was not happy to be residing in her uterus.

“Hi Mr. Little, I'm Doctor Karev and I’m gonna check you out real quick and we’ll see where to go from there,” Jo tried to put on a happy face as her stomach churned unpleasantly. She grabbed her stethoscope and began her routine check. “You said you’ve been having stomach pain, how long has that been going on for?”

“About three days,” the older man let out a groan as Jo began to palpate his abdomen. “Oh that’s not a pleasant feeling. A little softer dear or…”

Jo looked up as her patient fell silent, watching in abject horror as the man leaned forward and vomited across his lap. Moving as quickly as she could, Jo leapt back but was greeted with blowback across her chest and arms.

“Oh god,” Jo’s stomach flipped a final time before she turned to her left and emptied her stomach onto the floor of the ER. Jo felt as if the whole room was staring her down as she stood next to a pile of her own vomit. It was as if those dreams of going to school naked had come alive, a feeling of horror washing over Jo as she processed what had just happened.

“What the hell is happening,” Owen rushed over, looking from Jo to her patient, who was staring at her in shock. “Mr. Little, I’ll get you another doctor right away. And someone to help you clean up. Karev, follow me.”

Turning to follow Owen, Jo paused as the scent of vomit overwhelmed her senses once again. Stepping around Owen, Jo leaned over the closest trash bin and emptied her stomach again, a strangled cry leaving her as the acid burned her throat.

“You can go home,” Owen was standing behind Jo now, a gentle hand resting on her back as she stayed bent over. “We’ll survive without you. Go home, Jo.”

A heavy sigh left Jo as she nodded to Owen, standing up and heading upstairs for the attendings lounge. She hadn’t even been out of the house for an hour and she felt like the whole day was going down the drain.

Pressing a hand against the growing swell of her stomach, Jo silently begged the little life resting there to just calm down for the rest of the day. Her almost 12 week bump was harder to camouflage, but Jo knew that the closer she came to her second trimester the less her morning sickness would be an issue. She let out a heavy sigh, head popping up as the empty elevator chimed, signaling that it had arrived at its destination and was kicking Jo off into reality.

“I’m looking for Doctor Karev, it’s not a hard question to answer!”

Jo groaned as she turned a corner, not wanting to deal with anyone else today. Her job came first though, so she walked to the nurses station and put on a brave face.

“I’m Doctor Karev, what’s the issue,” Jo looked from the nurse to the woman standing in front of her, feeling as if she’d just been punched in the gut. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jo had never met Izzie Stevens, but the woman was unmistakable.  Her painted lips turned down at the sight of Jo standing in front of her, obviously disappointed that she wasn’t Alex. The perfectly curled blonde hair and full face of makeup didn’t sit well with Jo, realizing with a flash of anger exactly why the woman was there.

“I’m not here for you, I’m here for Alex,” Izzie came around to stand a few feet in front of Jo, arms crossed as she stared her down. “Why don’t you tell me where your ex husband is and we can all get along.”

“Oh I am not starting with you today, you need to take your pathetic ass back to Kansas,” Jo took a step forward, arms crossing to mirror Izzie’s stance. She knew she was attracting attention, she could see Levi frantically grasping for his pager out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You know as well as I do that Alex doesn’t want to see you. You fucked him over and he’s moved on. And I know damn well he’s not going to want to talk to you.”

Izzie stared at Jo for a moment, her lips finally turning into a smile as she began to laugh at her. Jo could feel her blood boiling, her heart rate pounding loudly in her ears as she clenched her fists in an attempt to keep herself planted in her spot.

“Oh please, I’m sure that bratty kid of yours isn’t even his either, stop putting on this picture perfect princess show,” Izzie chuckled, narrowing her eyes as she saw Jo’s face redden. “Oh did I hit a nerve? Serves you right you-”

“You’re a sorry excuse for a mom if you think putting your kids through what you did was the right thing,” Jo’s voice rose and she took a final step towards Izzie, her face inches from the older woman’s. She shouldn’t retaliate, but Izzie had gotten under Jo’s skin and she wasn’t going to let her get the last word.

“And you’re a shitty person on top of that for what you dragged Alex through. So you can talk about your stupid children of the corn and you can even talk about how much you fucked over Alex, but you do not get to talk about MY daughter. If I hear her name in your mouth again, so help me I will drag you back to Kansas by your hair myself you self absorbed home wrecking psycho.”

That set Izzie off, her hands coming up for Jo just as Alex ran up and pulled her away from the blonde. Jo, for what it was worth, was thankful that he’d come when he did because she wasn’t entirely sure that she could have kept her hands to herself.

“Jesus Christ! Don't you dare lay a hand on her Izzie,” Alex’s voice bellowed through the halls as he stared down his ex. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

“Well I came to check on you, but it seems that your washed up ex here has you fooled once again. Are you even sure this one is yours? Or maybe she trapped you on purpose this time,” Izzie sneered, eyes roaming down to Jo’s stomach. The dark blue scrubs were pulled tight against her abdomen as Alex held her, making it clear as day that she was pregnant. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant, I would ha-”

“You’re lucky I’m pregnant,” Jo yelled back, Alex tightening his grip on her as she tried to break away from him. “You’d be out cold right now if I wasn’t you stupid bitch!”

“I don’t want you here Iz, and I really don’t appreciate you yelling at Jo like that,” Jo could feel the anger radiating off of Alex as he set Izzie straight. She could tell that Alex’s firm grip on her arms wasn’t just to her benefit, but his too as he held back his barely restrained rage. “Might I remind you that you’re the one that spent three years lying to my face about the paternity of your kids.”

“Now what the hell is happening in my hospital,” all three doctors turned as Miranda Bailey walked up to the scene, Meredith trailing behind her with a sour look on her face. “Izzie Stevens, I know damn well you’re not standing here right now screaming and threatening to physically attack a doctor of this hospital, and a pregnant one at that.”

“Doctor Bailey, I-”

“That’s enough from you,” Bailey fixed Izzie with a glare, eyes narrowing threateningly as she looked upon the doctor she’d once known so well. “You’re going to turn around and walk out of here and you are not to set foot in Grey Sloan again unless they bring you in a damn ambulance or so help me I will have the police here faster than you can say ‘LVAD wire’. Are we clear?” Watching the situation in front of her play out, Jo could feel the familiar pull of anxiety coursing through her. She’d been able to keep it at bay since Alex had come back home, but the ocean of worry and fear began to crest in her stomach again. Her heart began to beat unsteadily as she brought her hand to cover Alex’s on her arm, her feet feeling more unsteady the longer she dwelled on what just happened.

“Jo? You okay?”

Jo’s eyes snapped up to Meredith, who was looking at her quizzically. She could feel Alex tensing behind her, his grip on her tightening as he looked her over. She could feel herself begin to sweat and her forehead heating up as she leaned her weight against Alex.

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, I’m just a little anxious,” Jo knew as soon as the words came out that Alex would understand what she meant. The nerves in her body were shot and she was pretty sure she’d pass out if she attempted to move out of Alex’s arms. She lowered her voice as she squeezed Alex’s hand, “I just really need to get out of here. Please.”

Alex nodded to Meredith before he began to lead Jo away from the tense hallway, his arms never leaving their place around her shoulders as they headed for the attendings lounge. Her breathing was ragged by the time she sat on the couch in the lounge, Alex’s hand running over her back as sobs began to well up from within her.

“You don’t believe her right? You don’t think I lied to you about Harper or this baby do you,” Jo tried to keep herself composed as she looked up at Alex, but the sad expression on his face made her begin to cry even more. “I swear I wouldn’t do that to you Alex, please don’t believe her.”

“Jo don’t listen to a word that comes out of her mouth. I know you’d never lie to me like that,” Alex wrapped his arm around Jo, bringing her into his side as she continued to cry. “I know you’re not trying to trap me, I know you. You’re a brilliant surgeon, an excellent mother and a fantastic wife, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Jo felt the wave of anxiety crash inside of her finally, Alex’s words doing little to ease her thoughts as she continued to sob loudly. She held a hand to her chest as her mind began to reel from the words that had been thrown at her.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” Jo choked out between sobs, gasping loudly as she tried in vain to calm herself down. “I’m so sorry… Alex I’m sorry.”

“Babe, look at me, come on Jo,” Alex held his fingers under Jo’s chin and waited for her to look up and meet his eyes. “Breathe with me, in and out. You’re not doing yourself or the baby any good by freaking out. Deep breaths, there you go.”

Jo’s breathing evened out as she followed Alex’s instructions, moving a hand down to cradle her stomach as she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. When she was satisfied, she leaned her head against Alex’s forehead and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry it’s just… I wasn’t expecting that today. Or ever,” Jo let a low chuckle out, eyes fluttering open to meet Alex’s. “And I might’ve thrown up on the ER floor earlier but that’s not important.”

“Yeah you smell like fish guts,” Alex joked as he pressed a kiss to Jo’s hair. “Let’s go get Harper and go home. We can put on a movie and relax, okay?”

“That sounds like the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

+

“She picked the movie, I had no say in it,” Jo walked out of the bathroom and looked from Alex to Harper with a smirk. “Come on Jo, you know I can’t say no to her.”

“I know you can’t, you’re a big softie.”

Jo settled into Alex's left side, his hand coming around her to settle his hand against the curve of her stomach as Harper cuddled deeper into his right side. She’d showered and changed while Alex and Harper had set up in the living room to watch Moana upon Harper’s insistence. After their unsettling morning, neither of them wanted to be anywhere else.

“I’m sorry about what happened, if I had even the slightest idea that she would come here I would have told you Jo, believe me,” Alex’s tone was hushed as he kept his eyes on Harper. “That part of my life is over, I’m going to file a protective order for all three of us tomorrow.”

“Alex, I-”

“No, I can’t keep going to work worrying about you two every second of the day,” Alex finally turned his gaze back to Jo, eyes scanning her worriedly. “I… when I went back to Kansas to settle everything Izzie pulled some crazy stuff. Things I didn’t think she was capable of and things I don’t want you or Harper or this little one to be subjected to. So please, let me do this so I can feel like I’m doing something to help.”

Burrowing her head into Alex’s chest, Jo nodded and used one hand to run through Harper’s curls. The little girl meant more to her than anything, along with her sibling still growing in Jo’s womb. Her and Alex could agree on that much, so she would let him do what he felt was needed to protect them.

“Daddy quiet,” Harper poked at Alex and then pointed back to the television. “Watch movie.”

Jo felt Alex’s chest rumble as he laughed at Harper, her heart feeling lighter than it had in years as she enjoyed the quiet evening with her daughter and her… well Alex was definitely something. She wasn’t eager to label things, afraid it would disrupt the sense of peace they’d fallen into, but she had a good feeling about their relationship this time around.

“Mm I found another house for us to look at this weekend, it’s close to the hospital and it has a big backyard,” Jo looked up to Alex, who’s eyes were already on her. “I think we should put an offer in on this one. Trust me.” “I do, I’d trust you with my life,” a knock sounded at the door, Alex prying himself away from both girls who had no problems voicing their displeasure with him. “Sorry girls, I gotta get the pizza and I know neither of you were going to stand up and get it.”

“Just gives me an excuse to cuddle with Harps here,” Jo pulled Harper into her lap, the little girl giggling as her mom wrapped her up in her arms.

Jo and Harper sat in silence for a minute, intently watching the movie playing out. When Alex didn’t return, Jo turned around to see what he was up to, only to find him still standing by the door.

“Alex?”

“She’s taking me to court,” Alex muttered, holding up a small stack of papers. “Izzie served me and she’s taking me to court for child support.”

[sbnkalny]

Count slurp flying in the house!- hey, Adam.- Hey, Barry.- is that fuzz gel?- a little

raymen

[nayutai]

Chasse Á L’amour

» Pairing Incubus!Taehyung x Original Character

» Rating 18+

» Genre angsty horror smut 

» Word Count 20.626

» Warnings explicit violence, gore, mentions of pedophile behavior (not by main characters), mentions of sexual assault (not by main characters), major character death, minor character death, twisted romance, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (pls use condoms)

» Summary Taehyung is an interesting being. He’s spent several centuries fucking for survival but he never takes the life of someone that doesn’t deserve it. He makes it his duty to rid the world of those with enough power to inflict their evil upon the masses. When that darkness strikes close to home, he’s nearly overwhelmed by the pain. However, getting his revenge isn’t the cake walk he thought it would be.

Phoenix hummed and hawed as she stretched out across her bed. The man that had occupied it with her at the start of the night was long gone as she’d told him to be. She relishes in the soreness that spread through her limbs when she finally separated herself from the sheets. Annoying as he had been at the bar, her chosen conquest had been quite the lay just as she’d predicted him to be.

Freshly showered, she settles in at her kitchen table with a bowl of oatmeal and some fruit. Her laptop whirs to life in front of her ready to supply her with an inbox full of people needing help of the supernatural variety. Most of the people that email her don’t actually need her help. For instance, Molly from New York believes she’s got a vengeful spirit on her hands because her makeup products are continuously vandalized even though her husband, who has expressed his distaste for makeup, swears it’s not him. She needs a marriage counselor, not Phoenix. Then there’s Elijah from Colorado. He’s complaining of some sort of creature that eats all his food and leaves the cabinets open. The number 420 and the fact that Elijah chose to write his entire email in green Papyrus font suggests that he has a weed problem not a supernatural infestation. 

An email halfway down her screen actually shows some promise. A young newlywed couple, Malina and Trevor McAvoy, have just moved into a fixer upper that they found in a quiet, little suburb of Detroit. Phoenix balks at the sheer length of the email they’ve sent her but as she skims through it, she can tell that the McAvoys are one of the unlucky bastards that are actually in need of her help. She starts tapping away at her keyboard. Her phone vibrates against her left breast, halting her email session. It’s one of her hunting buddies, Derrick Yates. 

“Hey, asshole.” Phoenix answers jovially. She can practically see Derrick rolling his eyes in the exaggerated fashion that he’s known for. He claims to love her like family but Phoenix is almost positive that Derrick seriously hates her for all her antics.

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t say that, especially since I actually called you with a friendly offer.” 

“You have my attention.” Phoenix closes her laptop so that she can give Derrick her full attention. 

She listens intently as Derrick details the small demon coven that he and his partner Patrick Brewer have been tracking for the past week or two. They’d received reports of the demons wreaking havoc on society and were aiming to put a stop to it. Apparently, they’d followed them to Iowa and stumbled upon a demon hangout of sorts. By their count, there are at least twenty demons milling about the large house they’d found in the middle of the woods.

“So, what exactly is this offer?” Phoenix inquires curiously.

“We’re about to go in guns blazing and fuck shit up. Do you wanna come?”

“Send me the location.” She drops her phone onto her kitchen table unceremoniously, going back to her email to the McAvoys. It shouldn’t take long to help Derrick and Brewer dispatch of the demon nest they’ve happened across and afterwards she’ll head out to Detroit to deal with the vengeful spirit that’s been terrorizing them. 

The door of her trusty Jeep shuts with a low thunk as Phoenix hops out of it in front of the low end motel that Derrick and Brewer told her they’ve chosen to hole up in. She grabs her overnight bag from the trunk and walks closer to the building. Her eyes scan the doors for the number 215, finding it off to her right. 

She knocks seven times. Five long two short based on a code they’d devised years ago to announce themselves. A knock for each letter of their name in a cadence of their choosing. Derrick opens the door with a chicken bone hanging from his lips like a cigarette and a chicken leg awaiting the same fate in his free hand. He’s shirtless as per usual and his olive toned skin is glistening as if he just recently got out of the shower. Phoenix reaches out to twist one of his tanned nipples before he can stop her, enjoying the girlish scream he lets out as the pain grips him. 

“You, bitch.” He grunts out when she slips by him, giggling. His partner Brewer emerges from the bathroom then and immediately pulls Phoenix into a tight hug. 

“Don’t hug her. She just tried to kill me.” Derrick whines. Both Brewer and Phoenix flip him off in response which sends him into a rather creative fit of curses about the lack of loyalty and respect he’s “forced” to endure.

Derrick passes Phoenix a beer out of his highly decorated Yeti cooler despite the fact that he was just cursing her life not even five seconds before. He’s truly a frat boy at heart and looks the part with his curly hair that flops over his hair and his preference for khaki shorts and Sperry’s outside of hunts. 

It’s all business from there as the three of them go over the best plan of action to hit the demon hive. Demons are most active at night although not for the reason that most lore claims. The sun doesn’t burn them like most aware humans count on. Most debauchery occurs at night so they’re sleep cycles follow that pattern. That’s probably the most interesting thing about demons. The fact that they actually sleep when they deem it necessary. All demons were humans once and thus a good night’s sleep can actually help them recharge just as it did when they were still human. 

“I’m not saying I’m a genius or anything but I have the perfect plan.” Derrick gloats from his seat with a shit eating grin on his face. Brewer rolls his eyes which only intrigues Phoenix even more.

“I swear to God if this involves that stupid fucking thing you rigged up I’m gong to shove this beer bottle right up your ass.” Brewer warns as he watches Derrick’s grin grow that much wider. He makes some lewd comment about girth and anal stretching that makes Phoenix groan in disgust while Brewer looks more than a little intrigued.

“Now I have to know what this is about.”

“Wait right here, m’lady.” Derrick looks almost manic as he slides a black case out from under the bed. He pops the latches with such reverence you’d think it was the holy grail he had in there. “Say hello to my,”

“Please don’t do it.” Brewer begs fervently.

Derrick presses on as if he hadn’t even heard his partner say a single word. “…little friend.”

Curses fly haphazardly out of Brewer’s mouth much to Phoenix’s delight. Her laughter is replaced with confusion when Derrick pulls some sort of crossbow-shotgun hybrid from the case. 

“Derrick, what the hell is that?”

“Are you blind? It’s a grenade launcher, you imbecile.”

“It looks like fucking trash.” Phoenix mumbles as she lifts her bottle to take another sip of her beer only to realize that it’s empty. Derrick protests when she reaches for his bottle instead but she downs it anyway.

“Now why don’t you tell her what you planned to do with this grenade launcher?” Brewer pipes up, interrupting his own brooding session. He crosses his arms smugly as he waits for Derrick to explain his genius plan and how his knockoff grenade launcher factors into that. 

Based on the stakeouts they’d done in the previous few days, Derrick and Brewer had observed that the demon house of horrors was most active at around four in the morning. All of them seemed to slink back from their soul stealing then and would congregate together to drink and continue to be merry throughout the day. According to Derrick, that is the time to strike. He’s concocted a grenade of sorts but instead of shrapnel he’s rigged them up to spray a mixture of holy water and frankincense in an eight foot radius. 

“I say we hit ‘em with the grenades hard while they’re all pissy drunk then take ‘em all out” Derrick smacks his open hand on the table for emphasis which earns him a flick on the forehead from Brewer. 

“That’s actually not a bad plan, but why the frankincense?” Phoenix questions. The holy water makes obvious sense but she’s never heard of any hunter using frankincense to disarm any kind of supernatural being before.

“It honestly serves no purpose. I only put it in there because it has a cool name and I like the way it smells.” Derrick promptly explains.

“I’m sorry I asked.”

“You and me, both.” Brewer mumbles as he chugs the rest of his beer.

It takes Derrick one day and half a dozen beers to rig up two more of his contraptions and enough holy water grenades to coat every wall of the house with holy water. Brewer has never seen Derrick pray that much in all the years he’s known him. That night, the three of them suit up and head out to cause some mayhem. 

The forest is quiet as they slink through the woods towards the old farmhouse that the demons have taken over. This far off the beaten path, the sounds of wildlife should be at a pretty decent volume but the present of evil seems to have sent the forest residents packing. That makes their approach a bit trickier as they don’t have the noise to cover the sounds of their movement. As they get closer to the house; however, they realize that the demons themselves are providing the necessary cover for their own demise. Their laughter and joyous noises can be heard quite a ways off as they keep the party going amongst themselves. 

As planned, Phoenix and Brewer split off to cover the left side and the back of the house while Derrick takes the front. Phoenix finds a chick copse of bushes to crouch behind and waits for the first shot. Her cue to send her own grenades flying. Adrenaline is pumping through her veins and it take a herculean effort for her not to jump the gun and get things going herself. The anticipation is nearly too much for her to handle when she finally here the tell-tale sound of a gun being fired. It’s show time.

The laughter quickly changes to anguished shouts as Derrick’s homemade grenades spray holy water on every conceivable surface. Phoenix unholsters the gun on her hip as she waits a second to see if a demon is going to run out of the back door in an attempt to escape. A young female takes the back door clean off its hinge as she tries to get away. Large flaps of skin hang from her limbs from the caustic effects of the holy water. Phoenix puts a bullet in her head before her feet even leave the small back porch. The bullet won’t kill her but it will keep her down until she can be properly dealt with. Phoenix drags her back inside, relishing in the way her skin sizzles like bacon as she comes in contact with the water that covers the floor of what looks like a small kitchen. A hiss brings her attention to another demon off to her left that’s crouched and ready to strike despite the fact that its face is nearly completely burned away. Phoenix puts that one down too. She takes a deep breath in through her nose. The smell of burning flesh singes her nose hairs and she loves it.

Most of the mayhem seems to be contained in the front part of the house if the demonic shrieks and screams are anything to go on. Derrick and Brewer are swiftly moving through the horde of smoking demons with ease. Phoenix is about to jump into the mix to when movement in the hallway off to her right catches her attention. Satisfied with how her friends are handling their own situation she sets off to investigate. 

The door to the room at the very end of the hallway is still ajar. Since Phoenix hadn’t heard the sound of a door closing, she decides to start there. The small bedroom is quaint and sparsely decorated. It also appears to be empty. Whatever had been in this room seems to have disappeared. No sooner has that thought crossed her mind when another blur of motion leaves her barely enough time to dodge what would have been a brutal attack. Spinning on her heel, she comes face to face with a pissed off demon that seems to have made it through their blitz attack relatively unscathed. She’s tiny, probably five foot and a buck twenty on a good day but Phoenix knows better to underestimate her. 

Her eyes looks more like chips of obsidian as the demon hisses. Phoenix is ready for her when she attacks this time. They’re dancing around the room, striking with increasing amounts of force and hatred as they seek the opening they need. The heel of Phoenix’s foot connects with her opponent’s rib cage, sending her flying into the wall. Not one to let good fortune go to waste, Phoenix unsheathes the emergency knife she keeps by her ankle before she’s descending on her pray once more. 

Phoenix grabs her foe by the throat as she struggles to her feet, dragging her up the wall until she’s eye level. To her credit, the demon doesn’t scream once though she does continue to try and strike at Phoenix despite the lack of oxygen she’s currently getting. Phoenix readjusts her hand so that she has enough room to press the blade of her knife against the demon’s throat. 

“Any last words, bitch?” Phoenix teases as she drags the blade across  the demons cheek. A thin line of blood follows in its wake. “No? Okay then.”

With the precision of a trained assassin, she slices through the delicate skin of the demon’s throat. Her victim chooses that exact moment to strike out at Phoenix one last time. She catches Phoenix in the ribs with a well-aimed kick that leaves her gasping for breath as the arterial spray from the demon’s mouth bursts forth from the wound Phoenix has just opened up. Phoenix drops the demon like a sack of potatoes as she frantically tries to spit out the blood. 

She’s vaguely aware of the tiny piss ant gasping for breath right next to her. Apparently, the kick had saved her from the instant death that would’ve befallen her if she hadn’t kicked Phoenix when she did. Despite that, she’s not going to last much longer. She uses her last breath to make one final stand.

“Hinkku….imnum” She sputters out before finally succumbing to her injuries.

It’s as if every muscle in Phoenix’s body seizes up at once. Her limbs are violently flailing around as she slowly starts to lose feeling in her extremities. The force with which her head is banging against the hardwood floor should’ve taken her out already but she can’t even feel it. She can barely feel anything anymore. Derrick’s terrified face comes into view. He must be holding her head up. She’s not sure but he remains in her field of vision so it must be true. The ice that had invaded her bloodstream runs it’s course. Derrick feels like his throat is closing up as he tries unsuccessfully to bring her back around. 

If there’s one thing Taehyung loves, it’s the warmth that spreads through his limbs when he stands in the sun. He hasn’t been human in almost half a millennia but that’s one aspect of his former existence that he’s held on to all this time later. His face is currently tilted towards the heavens as he stands on the balcony of his latest conquest’s spacious mansion, stark naked, soaking in the rays.

He takes a final deep breath before turning to step back inside. A cocky smirk tilts one side of mouth up as he takes in the sight of his handiwork stretched out across the California king bed in front of him. Carlotta had been her name. A bitch in the most extreme sense of the word. Her ivory skin is marked up from his teeth and nails making her look just like the child laborers used and abused in the factories that supplied her multiple businesses with inventory. She’d been on Taehyung’s radar for a while, but when he caught wind of her cutting the pay in half for factory workers to recoup the cost of her brand new private jet, that had been the final straw. 

Nine days, two glasses of champagne, and one very expensive tuxedo had lead to this very moment. Taehyung standing over the lifeless body of an evil business mogul that the world is undoubtedly better off without. He can’t help the demented little giggle that slips from his mouth as he recalls Carlotta’s face when she realized what was happening to her. If he breathes deep enough he can still smell the terror that had bled into her pheromones when his true nature had been revealed. It had made him orgasm almost instantly as the last vestiges of her shit stain of a soul are absorbed into his being. 

Deciding that he’s spent enough time reminiscing, Taehyung moves around the room as he redresses himself. His hand dips into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out the flash drive containing the evidence of Carlotta’s atrocities. He swiftly clips it to the chain holding the gaudy gold cross that he’d insisted she keep on as he’d ravaged her. The irony of it is still just as funny to him now as it was when he’d first noticed it around her neck. Even if he hadn’t taken her soul, there’s no way she’d be going anywhere near heaven.

The scenery is a blur as Taehyung speeds away in the Tesla from Carlotta’s garage that he’d helped himself to. A constant vibration against his thigh alerts him to a phone call coming through. 

“Marcus! What’s u-” Taehyung’s attempts at catching up with his long time friend is interrupted by a sudden plea for help. Everything that follows afterwards is a jumbled mush as all of Marcus’ words run together in his haste to get the story out.

“Slow down, man. What’s going on?” Marcus takes several deep, ragged breaths to get himself together. 

“The B&B got hit last night. I popped in last night and it was…” Silence takes over the line as Marcus trails off, searching for words to describe what’s happened. “Taehyung I’ve seen some fucked up shit and done even worse but this made me physically ill.”

Taehyung has to focus intently on not ripping the steering wheel clean off as Marcus recounts the horror show he’d discovered at the B&B. He has fond memories of the quaint farmhouse that had been owned by a kind human who everyone had affectionately called Mama Dee. To this day, Taehyung isn’t sure how or why Mama Dee’s home had become a safe place for the supernatural creatures of the world to rest and recuperate but she was a saint in their eyes. The turnout for her funeral when her body had finally succumbed to old age had been a hunter’s wet dream as the subject’s of history’s folklore had gathered to show their respects. To know that Mama Dee’s had been the backdrop of something so foul that Marcus was still having trouble getting it out made his blood boil.

“I’m catching the next flight out.” Taehyung didn’t wait for a response as he ended the call and tossed his phone into the seat next to him. His foot pressed the accelerator harder as he pushed the Tesla to its limits.

Whatever happened. Whoever was responsible. Someone would pay for it.

“Open this fucking door, Astinil!” Derrick bellows as he aggressively kicks at the solid oak door of the shaman’s home. He’d nearly killed the three of them as he tossed his knowledge of traffic laws out of the window of his Jeep. Brewer’s fingers are glued to Phoenix’s pulse as her head rolls around on her shoulders from Derrick’s frenzied kicking. It’s growing more and more faint by the minute but for now her heart is still beating. 

The shaman in question finally opens the door, looking less than happy to see Derrick on the other side of it.

“You are not welcome here, Derrick.”

“Fuck, I know that. Do you really think I’d be here if I had any other options? My friend is dying and you’re the only one who can save her.” Astinil glances at the young woman lying limp in Derrick’s arms obviously in need of his help. 

“Astinil, please. I’m begging you to help me. I can’t lose her.” The emotional cracks weaving through Derrick’s words makes the shaman’s decision for him.

“Bring her inside.” Derrick nearly sobs with relief. He’s not naive enough to believe that Phoenix is out of the woods yet but her chances just got astronomically better. He gently lays her out on the sofa in the sitting room. 

Astinil directs Derrick and Brewer to sit in the corner and not bother him as he sets about crushing various herbs with his mortar and pestle. The acrid smell of demon blood is nearly overpowering and he knows that he must work quick. He has no idea how much blood the young woman ingested nor how long the poison has been pumping through her system. 

A few drops of holy oil turns the crushed herbs into a paste. Normally, he’d pour in enough for it to be drinkable but there is no time for that. Less conventional methods have to be used with this one. Brewer has to physically hold Derrick back when Astinil produces a knife from his pocket and slashes Phoenix’s wrists. The shaman quickly covers the wounds with a thick layer of the paste. He utters a prayer as he repeats the process on the other pulse points that he can reach. 

The remainder of the mixture is piled under her tongue. Astinil continues to pray as he uses holy oil to draw a cross on her forehead. Nothing happens. The convulsions that normally accompany such a strong spiritual cleans e are absent and it’s with a heavy heart that Astinil realizes that his efforts are coming too late in the game. Her heartbeat has grown stronger though and that puzzles the healer. He wipes the paste from her skin only to grow even more confused. The wounds he’d created have nearly healed and the surrounding skin looks as if it’s been chemically burned. The same can be said for her forehead when Astinil wipes away the holy oil. The puzzle pieces are all falling into place for him now.

“Is she going to be okay?” Brewer asks fearfully. Derrick had long fallen silent from the shock that the adrenaline had been warding off. He stares unseeing at his friend’s still body.

“She will live.” Astinil answers carefully. Probably forever he adds internally. “Come, you two can sleep in the spare room. We must let her rest.” 

Brewer stands from the stool he’d found to perch himself on but Derrick refuses to leave Phoenix by herself. He stretches himself out on the floor next to the couch, pulling Phoenix’s hand down so he can hold onto it. Brewer’s heart aches at the sight. He knows all too well just how important Phoenix is to Derrick. The thought of what losing her could do to him makes him want to pull Derrick into his arms but he knows Derrick well enough to know that that’s not what he needs right now. With a heavy sigh, he turns to follow Astinil down the hall instead.

Phoenix awakes with a start. Her head is pounding from all of the different scents and sounds assaulting her senses. She has no clue where she is and her first thought is how to escape. The last thing she remembers is running into the demon hive they’d hit but everything afterwards leading up to this very moment is a mystery to her. Not to mention the fact that she feels different. Not banged up or bruised like she would’ve expected be after being so incredibly outnumbered. In fact she feels as though she could do the job over again solo and still come out on top. 

A groan followed my unintelligible mumbling grabs her attention. Her brow burrows as she leans over the edge of the couch to see Derrick curled up in the fetal position on the floor. Stress mars his features even deep in sleep. The faint sound of footsteps approaching has her tensing up. An unfamiliar man rounds the corner, regarding her warily as she draws in on herself. Ready to attack at the first sign that he has ill intentions. He’s tall and looks to be somewhere in his fifties but something tells Phoenix that she’d be a fool to underestimate him. He exudes an aura of power that indicates he’s not to be messed with.

“Come. We have much to discuss.” Whoever this man is, he doesn’t wait for Phoenix to respond as he turns to walk back down the hallway he’d emerged from. As if he just expects her to follow him like a curious puppy which is exactly what she does. 

She barely catches him disappearing through a door near the end of the hallway after taking the time to put her boots back on. The sweet smell of dewy grass and various flowers greets her upon passing through the doorway that leads into some kind of private garden. The man she’d followed is perched upon a wooden bench with his head tilted towards the heavens, eyes closed to the waking rays of the sun.

“What do you remember?” He questions.

“Who are you?”

“Answering a question with a question is in poor taste.” Phoenix glares at his side profile but decides to play nice.

“I remember running into a house full of demons but nothing after that.” He hums thoughtfully. Eyes still shut. Head still facing the clouds. 

“Astinil is my name. Sit and I will fill in what you’re missing.” Phoenix nearly trips over her own two feet in her haste to sit on the bench. She has no idea what day it is or how long she was knocked out. All she knows is that she’s missing something. Something big. She doesn’t realize how big until Astinil retells the happenings that lead to her being passed out on his couch. The longer he talks, the more memories from that night she’s able to retrieve.

“Did the demon say anything that didn’t sound like English?” Phoenix racks her brain, gasping when the mental image of the demon she’d slain muttering something with her dying breath creeps up behind her eyelids. Hinkku Imnum. Astinil hums thoughtfully.

“That confirms my theory.” According to the shaman, hinkku imnum is in fact not English. It’s Akkadian, a language that predates the Bible and was last used by ancient Babylonians. “Literally, it means ‘death to you’.”

“But, I’m not dead.” Phoenix holds her hand to her heart just to double check. She’s relieved to feel the muscle beating as normal.

“It’s a transformation spell. Long ago, demons discovered that if they grew powerful enough they could use this transformation spell to turn people into demons without having to go through all the trouble of bargaining for their souls.” Astinil takes a deep breath before he continues. “In this case, the death is restricted to everything that makes you human when the transformation takes place.”

“No, no, no. I have a heartbeat!” She insists, hoping that this fact saves her from what Astinil is leading up to. The look on the healer’s face is pinched as though he smells something bad.

“And yet, you’re not totally human. Not anymore.”

Marcus is sat on the front steps of the B&B when Taehyung arrives exactly fifteen hours after their phone call. His eyes follow Taehyung’s movement but they look far away. The smell of burned and rotting flesh hanging heavy in the air makes Taehyung wrinkle his nose. Bile rises in his throat but he manages to keep himself together. 

Taehyung is hesitant about entering the house. He knows that all of the beautiful memories he has in this house will be tainted once he crosses that threshold. His hand shakes slightly around the brass door knob before the door is creaking open. It’s worse than he’d thought. He recognizes a few of the faces that aren’t burned beyond recognition. The shells of his friends lay dismembered and disfigured across the living room floor. Without stepping foot inside the house, Taehyung slowly shuts the door, laying his forehead against the wood.

“Do we know who did this?” He chokes out around the lump in his throat. His eyes burn with unshed tears as he waits for the answer he so desperately craves. 

“I’ve heard rumors of Phoenix Emery being seen at a gas station just north of here.” He should’ve known when he saw the brutality of what had gone down that she would have been involved. 

Phoenix Emery has been on Taehyung’s shit list for a while now but tracking her down was no easy feat. The woman is almost as untraceable as the ghosts she exorcises. Every time he stepped foot on American soil, he did his best to oust her but she always seemed to be one step ahead of him. He’d all but given up on taking her out but with this latest stunt she’s made herself a top priority. 

There was a time when Taehyung had considered himself some sort of demonic vigilante. The number of hunters running around with their guns half-cocked and their brain cells half-firing had risen to an alarming number. Stupid as they may be, even the most inept hunter knew how to sniff out a demon. The average human as well although they tend to just blame it on some lame “sixth sense”. However, incubi are the exception to this rule. It simply wouldn’t do for a creature that survives on sex to arouse the ingrained suspicion of every human they encounter. 

While an incubus is low key enough to fly under the radar, Taehyung is the only one bold enough to actually target hunters. He makes sure to go after the most egregious ones just like with his other kills. The ones that get drunk and beat their wives. The ones that use their skills to be morally corrupt contract killers on the side. The ones who make their kills unnecessarily violent. As evidenced inside Mama Dee’s house, Phoenix Emery and the hunter couple Taehyung has heard she frequently works with fall squarely in that third stereotype. All three of them will pay the same price his friends did inside those four walls. He’ll make sure of it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Derrick asks for what very well may be the millionth time since the three of them had piled into his jeep. 

“If you ask me that one more time, you won’t be okay. I’m fine, Derrick, I promise.” Physically that is. 

Phoenix had made Astinil swear that he wouldn’t tell Derrick and Brewer what had actually happened to her. She hasn’t even attempted to try to process it and right now she doesn’t really want to. The irony of it all would be funny if it wasn’t her reality. A hunter whose specialty is killing demons is now some strange demon-human hybrid. Her mind drifts back to her conversation with the shaman as they’d watched the sun rise over the garden. He’d been able to stop the spell from completely transforming her into a demon but it wasn’t within his powers to reverse the damage that had already been done hence her halfling state. Before the trio had left his residence, he’d pulled Phoenix aside to give her a warning. 

Your humanity is dependent on your safety. Should you suffer a fatal injury, you will not die but rather the transformation will complete itself.

Those parting words play on a constant loop as she watches the trees blur past the speeding vehicle. Hunting is all Phoenix has ever known. Both of her parents were hunters as were their parents before them. It’s in her blood to snuff out the supernatural bullies in this world. How can she give it up? How can she just give up her life’s purpose like this?

Derrick’s eyes keep drifting to his friend in the backseat. She told him that she’s fine, but he can see through that bullshit. The turmoil swirling around her mind is plain as day. He’s used to her telling him everything that goes on in that scary brain of her so this new ice out method is both new and frightening. She feels far away even though she’s sat in his backseat and he doesn’t know what to do with that. His stomach is twisting into knots again as he thinks about just how close he’d come to losing her. The feeling of Brewer’s fingers tightening around his own brings him back to reality. He leans over to kiss him on the apple of his cheek when a disgusted noise comes from the back of the car.

“Can you losers keep your lips to yourselves up there? I just escaped death and now y’all are trying to kill me by being in love at 80 miles an hour.” Brewer chuckles, reaching back to flick Phoenix on the knee as she continues to rant. “Just push my lonely ass out of the car before y’all the dicks make an appearance. My virgin eyes do not need to see that.” Derrick can barely contain his laughter. Maybe he doesn’t have anything to be worried about. Maybe Phoenix really is okay

“Virgin, my ass!” Derrick shouts above his boyfriend’s hysterical laughter. “Brewer, get on the mainline and call Jesus. I want this lying heathen struck down immediately.” 

Phoenix flips them both off before going back to staring out of the window. For those few minutes, she was normal. She was simply Phoenix Emery, the girl who can never let her best friends be a couple in front of her without acting like a disgusted toddler. Not the Phoenix Emery that is newly demonic. She decides then and there that if she doesn’t acknowledge what happened then it can’t affect her. It might not the best course of action but it’s all she’s got. Her first order of business? Getting to Detroit to divest the McAvoy’s of their nasty poltergeist problem as well as her $2,500 fee. 

Tracking down the trio of hunters responsible for the death of his comrades had been a little harder than Taehyung had originally expected. Three months later and the only information he’d been able to get on Phoenix is that her kills had gotten more brutal since her and her friends had hit The B&B. He’d thought her two friends would be easier to start with but he’d still only just been able to pin down Derrick Yates and his boyfriend Patrick Brewer. According to the call he’d received the day before from Irene, a werewolf that had frequented The B&B, the two lovebirds are holed up in a motel just outside of Kansas City. Fresh off a kill. During his search, Taehyung had learned that the couple liked to celebrate successful hunts by fucking each other brains out for a few days. Getting his revenge may have just gotten even easier. He just had to get in that motel room. 

It took two whole days of waiting but the door to the two hunters’ hotel room finally opened. Only one of the men emerged from the room, the one Taehyung now knew to be Derrick Yates. From his research, he’d learned that his history with Phoenix Emery spanned more than two decades. The two had grown up in the same circles with both of them coming from households where hunting was the encouraged profession so naturally they’d developed a bond that had seemingly lasted the test of time. Phoenix’s family had even taken young Derrick in when his intolerant parents had kicked him out upon discovering their son was gay. It dawned on Taehyung then that killing Derrick and Patrick would surely make Phoenix surface. A wicked smile took over his face at how everything was lining up as he followed Derrick to a nearby gas station. 

Weaseling his way into the seedy motel room was surprisingly easy. Taehyung got the feeling that Derrick and his boyfriend liked to invite other people into their lovemaking quite often. In less than hour, Taehyung found himself drinking copious amounts of beer and smoking some weed Derrick had bought from some old lady three doors down. The weed had to be laced with something potent as it had Taehyung flying amongst the clouds despite his demon nature which normally afforded him near immunity to such things. 

Taehyung was staring off into space, contemplating just what the hell they were smoking when a large hand groped him over his jeans, bringing him back to the moment at hand. He slowly blinks as Patrick’s face comes into focus mere inches away from his own.  

“Why the fuck isn’t he answering?” Phoenix grumbles as she angrily tosses her iPhone down on the kitchen table. It has been over a week since she’s heard from Derrick or Brewer and it’s starting to grate on her nerves. In their line of work it isn’t too uncommon for one of them to go off the grid for a while but they never go this long without checking in with each other. She goes back to angrily scrolling through her email inbox as she laments about why her best friend is ignoring her. He better be dead or I’m going to kill him myself.

Her laptop pings with a google alert and her heart stops. There is only one reason that she would be getting that ping. Someone she loves is dead and the news has gotten a hold of it. Phoenix had set alerts for exactly three people. Derrick, Brewer, and Betty White. Her hands shake as she slides her finger across the trackpad to click on the notification. 

Ice flushes through her veins as she clicks play on the news clip that pops up at the top of the page. One of Derrick and Brewer’s many mugshots are plastered on the screen over a video of a county coroner rolling two body bags out of some run down motel. The sound of the newscaster listing out all of the crimes Derrick and Brewer had committed over the years melts the ice in her bloodstream as it’s replaced with white hot rage. Phoenix is seconds away from putting a bullet through her laptop screen when her ringtone blares. She freezes at the familiar instrumental tone of Will Smith’s Wild Wild West. The ringtone she’d set specifically for one Derrick Yates. She says nothing as she answers the phone, waiting for whoever is on the other end to speak first.

“Hello, Phoenix.” A voice as lush as the fleece blankets she’s partial to caresses her ear drums but there’s something off about it. A hard edge that’s sharpened by malice. Still she says nothing.

“I’m sure you know about your friends’ demise by now if all these news trucks are anything to go on.” Her grip tightens dangerously around the phone in her hands. 

The now familiar red haze that clouds her vision when the bloodlust of her demon half threatens to overwhelm her tints the world around her a deep crimson. She’s never felt it this strong before but losing the two most important people in her life, the only two people remaining in her life, is a pain she hasn’t dealt with before. Even when her parents had been killed in a plane crash of all things, she hadn’t felt this out of control. This off kilter. Phoenix is so lost in her own head that she doesn’t realize that the other end of the line has fallen silent as well until they start speaking again.

“You and your friends should’ve never entered that farmhouse.” Phoenix laughs bitterly at that one. That fucking farmhouse has been the catalyst to all of her problems. No one wishes more than her that they’d all stayed far away from it. 

“What do you want?” 

“Your bleeding heart in my hands.” The smooth-talking stranger begins. “Your friends had the luxury of going out with a…bang. You, on the other hand will not be so lucky thanks to your brutally impressive track record.”

“Aw shucks, thanks for noticing.” Phoenix smiles gleefully at the frustrated growl that comes from the mystery man on the other end. She’d already figured that he was some demon looking for revenge for his fallen comrades and that demonic rattle rising from his throat is only confirmation. He rattles off an address about a day’s drive south from her house and a date before hanging up the phone.

Phoenix knows this is a trap. She knows that whoever that was killed Derrick and Brewer and is gunning for her next. As she loads up her SUV with enough artillery to arm a small militia, she’s vaguely aware of her eyes shifting from their normal dark brown to the black chips of obsidian that showcase the less human side of herself. It had freaked her out the first time it happened but now she revels in it. Loves the shocked faces of the other demons she snuffed out in her hunting endeavors. Apparently she’s just human enough to not tip off other demons. She’s banking on the fact that whatever supernatural being she’s headed to meet is unaware of her status. It’s her one ace in the hole. 

Taehyung lounges leisurely among the wildflowers growing abundantly in the meadow. It’s been a while since he’s had the time to just stretch out in an empty field and be one with nature. He takes a deep breath, humming joyously at the sweet smell of the flowers. Part of him doesn’t want to desecrate such beauty with the murderous actions he’s about to partake in but it must be done.

He picks up on the sound of a truck approaching from the west. Taehyung isn’t surprised to hear the engine cut out a few hundred feet away as Phoenix chooses to make her final approach on foot. He doesn’t budge from his position in the slightest as he counts her footsteps. A low thud followed by a hiss that sounds suspiciously like a tire being slashed has him raising his head. Sure enough, Phoenix is pulling a knife out of his front driver side tire and walks around the rented SUV to do the same to the back passenger tire. The car is outfitted with run flat tires but Taehyung is sure they’re not built to withstand a blade stabbing through the side wall. He’s intrigued to say the least. 

It’s when she turns to finally face him that Taehyung gets the shock of several lifetimes. Staring back at him is not the hunter that he was here to kill but the woman who’d stolen his heart. A woman whose hand he’d clung to desperately as she walked out of his life.. Something that had nearly ripped him apart. But that was in 1748. There’s no way in hell that the woman he’d loved all those years ago should be shoving knives into his tires today. Her friends’ phones had been noticeably devoid of any pictures of her though he guess that isn’t entirely uncommon amongst hunters. Bile rises in his throat at the thought of killing someone who looks so much like his beloved Arabella but it must be done. He steels his nerves and sets his jaw. 

Her curly hair has been pulled back into a bun and she looks like she’s dressed for a Tomb Raider convention with all of the holstered weapons she’s sporting. The cargo pants she’s wearing do absolutely nothing to conceal her impressive figure. If she wasn’t such a menace to his kind then maybe Taehyung would’ve considered giving her the same treatment her friends had received. Unlike them however, Phoenix seem to find some sick and twisted pleasure from killing demons with as much brutality as possible. She doesn't deserve to meet her end wrapped around his cock as he brings her to a screaming orgasm. No, she deserves exactly what she dishes out. Cruelty.

“What was the purpose of that?” He questions as she returns her knife to the holster strapped to her unfairly shapely thigh.

“Don’t want you running away.” She replies calmly as she places her foot on the back bumper to give herself the necessary boost to climb onto the roof of the now useless vehicle. She mirrors the cross-legged position that Taehyung has taken on. They sit and regard each other in silence until Phoenix just can’t take it anymore.

“You killed my friends. My brothers.” She hates the way her voice cracks. The emotions that she’s been frantically shoving down are catching up to her at the worst possible time.

“It’s what they deserved. It’s what you all deserve for what you did to my friends.” Taehyung grits out. His hands curl into fists as he thinks back on the brutality that he’d seen. The remnants of as his friends laid in blistered pieces around what was supposed to be a safe place. The anger coursing through his veins all but erases the nostalgia that had nearly overwhelmed him.

Phoenix moves into a crouch then. “Well what are you waiting for? Give me what I deserve.”

Taehyung regards his opponent carefully as he remains seated on the ground. There is something…off. Something other than her outward appearance. He can’t quite put his finger on exactly what it is but something isn’t right. Apparently, he’s taking too long to get to the main event as he just barely rolls to the side in time to dodge the knife that would’ve sliced through his torso like butter if not for his quick reflexes. Phoenix is still crouched on top of his useless vehicle. If it weren’t for the blade sticking out of the soil to his left he would’ve never guessed that she’d even moved. That only adds to his suspicions. No hunter he’s ever encountered has ever been so precise and quick in their movements to the point they almost got the drop on him. He doesn’t have the time to dwell on that though as yet another blade is whistling through the air in his direction at an astonishing speed. Once again, he’d barely seen her move.

“That’s it. No more games, bitch.” Taehyung mumbles to himself. He has to get her off of that car now. As long as she’s up there, she has the upper hand and it’s time to even the playing field. 

Taehyung narrows his eyes at Phoenix. She has the audacity to grin at him, taunting him even now. A growl rises from his chest as he launches himself at the side of the car. It rocks violently when he strikes it. The glass from the drivers side exploding around him. He steps back and notices that Phoenix is no longer perched on top of the SUV like a bird of prey. The human-sized dent in the side of his rental tells Taehyung that she should’ve definitely been thrown somewhere but when he walks around to the other side Phoenix is nowhere to be seen.

“What the…” Taehyung doesn’t get to finish that sentence. He’s too preoccupied by the hand grasping a fistful of his hair to slam his head into the side of the car hard enough to shatter one of the remaining windows. 

He hits the ground when the unknown hand releases him. Looking up, every muscle in his body tenses up when he sees three women staring down at him. Taehyung screeches and thrashes around as she pours what can only be holy oil directly onto his face. 

“Huh, so you are a demon.” Phoenix murmurs as if she hadn’t been totally sure what type of being Taehyung was. 

Though agony still holds him firmly in its grip and he’s still seeing more than one Phoenix, Taehyung pauses. Demon. It would explain everything. She shouldn’t have been able to move faster than his eyes could keep up with and yet, she did. She should have been thrown several yards and injured when he’d flung himself at the car he was currently lying next to and yet, she wasn’t. He’d rented the SUV from an armored car company so she shouldn’t have been strong enough to break the reinforced glass with his skull and yet that’s exactly what she did. His vision finally stabilizes at the same time as the blisters on his face finish healing when Phoenix crouches to press the business end of a pistol she pulled from God knows where against his forehead.

As if she can see the gears turning in Taehyung’s head, Phoenix’s irises along with the whites of her eyes disappear entirely until nothing is left but darkness. A smug, toothy grin exposes her teeth in a way that gives him pause. He’s really thrown for a loop now. Taehyung had heard stories of demons that had devised a way to simply create demons but until now he’d thought it was just bullshit to scare humans. As Phoenix continues to stand over him, seemingly amused at Taehyung’s realization, he remembers the one thing that set the made demons apart from the rest. Their eyes would turn solid black unlike the red irises that presented in demons who’d bargained their way into their situation. Everything made sense and yet it didn’t. Phoenix Emery has a heartbeat. Taehyung could hear it from a mile away whereas other demons like Taehyung were noticeably devoid of one.

“What are you?”

She shrugs as if he’s just asked her a math question she doesn’t know the answer to. “I’m someone you shouldn’t have messed with.”

BANG.

Taehyung sits on the balcony of his swanky New York hotel room soaking in the sun’s rays. The sound of the waves beating against the rocks far below provide a serene soundtrack to his chaotic thoughts. A deep inhale fills his nostrils with the salty air tinged with the scent of a small, but busy donut shop somewhere along the beachfront. Everything about his surroundings should relax him but his shoulders are still tense, thoughts still jumbled together.

He absentmindedly fiddles with the bullet that Phoenix had put through his skull. It had been lodged in the soil beneath his head when he finally came to several hours later. He’s been confused ever since his eyes had slowly blinked open to the dazzling sight of stars twinkling down at him. His life had been spared and he has no clue why. She had to know that the bullet wouldn’t kill him. The only surefire way to kill a demon is dismemberment preferably followed up by burning the pieces. She hadn’t done any of that just left him lying on the ground with a hole in his head.

Not only had Phoenix left him alive but she has seemingly gone off the grid. Despite all of his searching, Taehyung hasn’t been able to find a trace of her in the weeks following their meet up in the meadow. He hates the phrase “going ghost” but that seems to be exactly what she’s done. 

He’d tried calling her from her friend’s phone only to discover that she’d changed her phone number. Some arm twisting had gotten him an address but when he’d shown up at the modest brick house it was boarded up. It didn’t look like anyone had been there in a while. The question of why she’d left him alive bounces around his brain incessantly. He can’t rest until he finds out why. 

Despite the hell she’d helped rain down on his comrades, Taehyung isn’t all that sure that he wants to kill Phoenix anymore. Taehyung has always been and excellent judge of character and he had seen flashes of genuine emotion and humanity in her eyes in that meadow. Sure, she killed demons for sport but she wasn’t all bad. In other words, he’s torn on what to do when he finally tracks her down. On one hand, he’d promised Marcus to avenge their fallen friends but on the other he had his own moral code to adhere to as well. He’d promised centuries ago that he would only take the lives of those that were too evil to be allowed to live. He’s not sure you fit that criteria anymore.

He lets out a resigned sigh as he returns the bullet to the pocket on his button up. The mangled piece of metal serves as a daily reminder of his new purpose. Finding Phoenix a second time is already proving to be one of the hardest tasks he’s ever undertaken in his lengthy existence. 

“That pie must be shit.” A hand slides into Taehyung’s line of sight, taking his fork right out of his hand to take a bite of the mediocre blueberry pie in front of him. A gag follows soon after. “That’s awful.”

“Phoenix…” He breathes her name out in shock as if he can’t believe she’s actually sat in front of him in some shitty diner in Phoenix, Arizona of all places. He’d come here for the irony of it all since she’d taken over his thoughts for the past seven months. Now here she is in the flesh. His eyes roam over her face, taking in every detail. She’s just as beautiful now as she was more than 200 years ago.

“I thought we would’ve had round two forever ago but one of us is actual shit at finding people.” She sends him a pointed look as she waves away the waitress that had come to take her order. Her mouth is open to speak again, but Taehyung interrupts her.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” He whispers. If his heart still beat, it would be racing right now. His fingers grip the edge of the wooden booth so hard he can feel the wood splintering. 

Phoenix considers him carefully. Even by demon standards, he looks crazed and out of control. She’s done her homework on him since their first physical interaction. Kim Taehyung is not to be underestimated. Though an incubus he may be, he’s old, wily, and dangerous. His own ignorance and rage had worked to her advantage before but now that he knows her secret she doubts that she will have the same luck a second time around. She really should have ripped him apart and lit him up like a Christmas tree but it didn’t feel right. Her hands had cradled his head in her hands with every intention of wrenching it from his shoulders with the brute strength stored in her arms but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Phoenix recalls the anguish that had flowed through her at her failure to properly get justice for Derrick and Brewer. Her fingers had carded through the bloody strands of his hair with what could only be described as tenderness. She couldn’t understand. Still can’t understand even after all the time that’s passed. Ultimately, she’d left Taehyung lying in that field a bloody mess and she still can’t quite explain why. 

“I know you’ve probably agonized over this for months, but I don’t have the answer you’re looking for because I don’t even know myself.” Taehyung is taken aback. How could she not know? Phoenix Emery never leaves a job unfinished and yet here he sits, alive and kicking. She crosses her arms across her chest and Taehyung can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to her ample breasts as they threaten to pop out of the thin tank top she’s wearing.

“Stop looking at my apple dumpling shop.” Phoenix chastises as she covers her cleavage with her hands. Taehyung’s eyes widen in shock once more. Apple dumpling shop. He hadn’t heard anyone utter that phrase in almost two hundred years. In fact, he’d only ever heard one person use it in his presence. Arabella.  

“I have to go.” Phoenix is a picture of confusion as Taehyung sends his chair toppling to the floor when he shoots out of his chair. He drops a few bills on the table and all but runs out of the diner. His legs don’t stop moving until he’s locked in the safety of his hotel room. 

This can’t be. This just can’t be. Taehyung isn’t naive enough to think that reincarnation isn’t possible. He’s heard of it happening. He knows it’s more common than most probably think but never did he consider the possibility that the one woman he’d given his heart to would ever reappear. Arabella Cardinal had been her name. Part of him had hoped that her soul never found its way back to Earth just so that he wouldn’t have to have to watch as she lived her life without him again. He can clearly recall the pain he’d felt when she’d finally gotten tired of him rejecting her advances not knowing that he was doing so in order to keep her alive. Taehyung would’ve given anything to know her in that way but it was an impossibility that he had no way of solving. 

He had thought that nothing could be worse than having the woman of his dreams reject him for something he couldn’t control but he had been wrong. So very wrong. Watching Arabella meet and marry the local blacksmith who gave her everything Taehyung so desperately wished that he could had nearly been his undoing. He’d wanted to leave. Wanted to get as far away from the happy couple and their growing family but he was greedy. He couldn’t stand not being near her. Hearing the sound of her laughter as she conversed with the other married women at the market had been the only thing to keep him sane when it felt like it would all become too much. It had nearly killed him to leave the small village but people had started noticing that he wasn’t aging. He couldn’t afford to arouse suspicion. An entire century and then some stretched between then and now yet the pain was still just as fresh. Now here she is again to torment him. Close enough to touch and she may as well be a million miles away. 

Taehyung has absolutely no way to confirm that Phoenix Emery really is the reincarnation of his beloved Arabella. He could have this all wrong. It could all be one nausea-inducing coincidence. There’s a feeling deep in his gut though that tells him its not. Phoenix can’t explain why she didn’t kill him all those months ago but maybe he can. His Arabella had been one of the kindest souls he’d ever known but everyone in the village had known that she kept a blade between her full breasts that she had no problem using if she felt she had to. Many a handsy drunk had known the truth of that fact. Taehyung stretches out across his mattress, staring at the ceiling as he mind finds the similarities between  and Phoenix. Little mannerisms that he hadn’t even really noticed until now. He needs to get out of Arizona before he does something crazy. Taehyung hastily collects his things before checking out of his hotel.

“Fuck you.” He hisses angrily at the ground as he steps outside into the heat. A few passerby give him strange looks but he doesn’t care. Only Satan himself is twisted enough to try and torment him like this. Taehyung is opening the door to his rental to drive to the airport when a hand reaches around him to shut it. 

“Leaving so soon? I thought we were going to finish this once and for all.” Phoenix whispers huskily against the shell of his ear. Taehyung couldn’t have stopped the shiver that runs down his spine even if he’d wanted to. Arabella had loved to “sneak up” on his to whisper filthy shit in his ear. He hadn’t been able to tell her that he always heard her coming. Phoenix on the other hand truly did catch him off guard.

“You let me live. We’re even now.” Taehyung mumbles before he yanks the door open once more. Phoenix keeps her hold on the door, preventing him from closing it as she stares him down. Silence stretches between them as all of the background noise of their surroundings fades to nothing. She releases the door form her grasp and takes a step back, allowing him to drive away as she watches after him. 

Phoenix can’t explain this…pull she feels towards Taehyung, but she knows that she doesn’t like it. Her eyes follow his vehicle until he turns off of the main road and disappears from sight. She needs answers and there’s only one place she knows to go get them.

Phoenix is almost nervous to be knocking on Astinil’s front door. The shaman doesn’t seem surprised to see her in the slightest. He doesn’t even greet her, simply turns to walk back into his home and she follows him in. It’s not till she’s seated on his sofa with a mug of peppermint tea in her hands that Astinil finally speaks. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Emery?” Like a dam giving way to a storm surge, Phoenix launches into the tale of everything that happens since she last was on this very couch. Astinil expresses his condolences for Derrick and Brewer’s deaths but otherwise he remains mute as Phoenix presses on. 

“I don’t get it, Astinil.” She all but yells in frustration. “I put a bullet in his head. I could’ve ripped him apart with my bare hands and everything would’ve been over but I couldn’t do it. I just…couldn’t.” 

“And why do you think that is?” Astinil looks like he knows something that she doesn’t and it’s honestly starting to piss her off. Why can’t he ever be forthcoming with information? Why does he always make her work for it?

“I was hoping you would tell me that.” 

“Nothing is ever that simple, Phoenix.” Astinil takes a final sip of his tea before venturing back into his kitchen with Phoenix hot on his heels. 

“Come on.” She whines. “You have to know something. Have a clue at least.” The hope in her eyes makes her look like a small puppy but Astinil is resolute.

“I know you came here looking for a helping hand in find the answers you seek, but your answers are not here. Try Paris.” Astinil gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze before leaving her in the kitchen with her thoughts. She lingers there for a bit as she watches Astinil, who is now in the garden pruning hedges, through the window above his sink.

Well this was useless.

Phoenix hits the freeway and just drives. She has no real destination as she maneuvers through the slower vehicles. A sign indicating there is an airport at the next exit prompts her to finally exit off of the highway. She digs around in her stash of documents coming up with two passports, American and France, drivers licenses from six different states, about two grand in cash, and several credit cards. She drops the cash, all of the credit cards, and the French passport into her backpack before assessing her clothing situation. Seeing as how she’s been practically living out of her car, she’s got enough clothing for at least a month or two.

As she makes her way inside the airport, she still has no idea what the hell could possibly be waiting for her in Paris but she’ll just have to figure it out when she gets there. The flight board shows one flight to Paris, France with a connection in New York City. As if some unseen force is guiding her hand, Phoenix finds herself swiping her card for a one-way ticket to Paris as opposed to the round trip she’d originally planned for. Her brain seems to have taken a vacation and left her baser instincts to take over. She has no idea what awaits her in the City of Love but whatever it is better be worth the $800 it’s costing her to get there.

It’s official. Taehyung is losing his mind. After his realization in Arizona, he’d returned to his villa in France to go back to his own life pre-Phoenix. Everything had been going fine until today. Venturing into the city usually brings him peace as he strolls down the streets. He’s doing just that when he spots someone that looks suspiciously like Phoenix Emery. Taehyung hastily returns back to his home on the outskirts of the city. Sure that he’s just going crazy, he goes back to planning the next corrupt target he’s planning to eliminate. A politician by the name of Jacques Bourdain with a penchant for brutally assaulting the hired women his assistant often supplied him. 

Taehyung is knee deep in surveillance videos when his phone vibrates next to his laptop. He sends it to voicemail after taking a look at the caller ID to see that it’s one of his former hookups Mattilyn. She was a bit too clingy for Taehyung’s liking hence why she’s a former hookup and yet she still finds the need to call him periodically to try and win him back. It’s when Mattilyn has called for the fourth time that Taehyung gets frustrated to pick up.

“What the fuck do you want, Mattilyn?” He barks into the phone speaker. His interest is immediately piqued by the sound of what can only be described as all out warfare. 

“Tae Tae I know you don’t want to talk to me, but a hun-” Mattilyn doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Taehyung picks up on the whistle of a blade slicing through the air right before Mattilyn is cut off. He’s frozen in his seat as the sickening thunk of metal chopping through flesh meets his ears.

Taehyung’s car is screaming down the highway towards the hangout spot that Mattilyn is known to frequent when he hears a familiar voice over the bluetooth speaker. The voice is as smooth as honey even though they’re slightly out of breath.

“Tae Tae, is it? If you’re coming to avenge your little friends, don’t bother. They’re beyond saving.” A loud clatter indicates that she’s dropped the phone to the stone floor but the call remains connected. Taehyung mashes the gas pedal that much harder. He’d thought that he’d been going crazy when he saw Phoenix earlier in the day but hearing her sadistic laughter preceding the striking of a match tells Taehyung that he is still very much in control of his mental faculties.

The lavish bar is ablaze when Taehyung slides into the parking lot. He can practically smell the holy oil used as some sort of sanctified accelerant. It irritates the sensitive lining of his nose to even breathe in the heated air. He looks around for any sign that Phoenix is still here. The hunters that normally patrol this part of the country are nowhere near bold enough to hit and torch a known demon hangout. As he jogs around the building, it dawns on Taehyung that a a particular vehicle is noticeably absent from the parking lot. Mattilyn has driven a flashy purple BMW for as long as Taehyung has known her. He knows for a fact that her body is one of the ones burning along with the bar and yet her car is mysteriously not present. 

Quickly approaching sirens spur Taehyung into action as he hops back into his car and speeds away. Mattilyn’s car is equipped with a tracking device. A safety measure she took after a couple of joy riding teens decided to take it for a spin since she’d been stupid enough to leave it unlocked with the keys still in the ignition. He plans to head straight for his laptop to start trying to track the sports car down. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to go to the trouble. When he reaches the end of his winding driveway, the car is idling at his front steps.

Taehyung reaches into the glove compartment for the nine millimeter that he keeps there for emergencies. He’s still not sure what the hell kind of demon Phoenix is but a bullet will definitely slow her down even just a little a bit. He approaches the BMW with caution, gun drawn and ready to go. The driver seat is empty. Taehyung’s anger only rises as he realizes that she must have went inside his house. The picked lock confirms his suspicions. The lush carpeting muffles his footsteps as he enters his home. 

“Put that thing down and come upstairs, will you? I have some questions.” Taehyung looks almost comical as his head flips around to locate the source of the voice. He spots Phoenix leaning against the banister on the second floor. He doesn’t hesitate to fire a shot in her direction. He misses.

“Now, that’s just mean.”

Phoenix returns Taehyung’s bullet fire by throwing a knife that she pulled from only God knows where with deadly accuracy. Something Taehyung is realizing to be a go-to of hers. She’d aimed for the center of his chest but, thanks to his quick movements, the knife only grazes him. He snarls at the feeling of the sharpened blade opening up a large wound along his rib cage. In the time it takes him to look down at his side and back up again, Phoenix is on him. Slamming her fist into his rib cage.

Fuck she’s fast.

“When you wake up, remember I didn’t want to do this.” She grabs his head in both hands, twisting it violently to the right. Taehyung crumples at her feet. His gun skitters across the floor like a spooked mouse.

Taehyung comes to with a start. The first thing he notices is that he’s restrained. Tied to a chair he notices as his senses come back to him. A glance out of his open bedroom window shows the sun just starting to set over the horizon so he couldn’t have been out that long. He cranes his neck from side to side, working out the kinks. When he lifts his head, he notices Phoenix standing in front of him. She’s turned away from him as she gazes at the various surveillance pictures of the politician Taehyung is after taped to the wall. That’s about to prove very foolish for her. 

The restraints on his wrists and ankles are no match for Taehyung’s superior strength. His fist is flying towards the back of Phoenix’s skull when suddenly she’s not there anymore. He stops short, confused, as he spins around to come toe to toe with the smirking hunter. She knees him in the gut before guiding him back to the chair by his ear. 

“You’re not nearly as fast as you think you are, Taehyung.” She appraises him carefully as he does the same from the chair she’s shoved him into. “Now be a good boy and answer my questions. I’d hate to have to break your neck again.” Taehyung’s glare only intensifies at the reminder of how she’d viciously snapped his neck earlier. 

“I told you to leave me alone and instead you follow me here and kill more of my friends and now you want me to answer questions?” Taehyung spats out vehemently. “Have you ever fucking heard of Google?”

“First of all, I didn’t follow you anywhere so let’s get that straight.” Phoenix begins. “I was told that Paris held the answer to an important question so I came here. Your friends killed a kid and laughed about it when I confronted them. They deserved to burn and I won’t apologize for it.”

Taehyung’s eyes search her face for any hint of her story being a lie but he can’t find one. His shoulders droop defeatedly. He would like to believe that his friends weren’t the type to kill an innocent child but his gut is telling him that she’s being truthful and he hasn’t survived this long by not trusting his gut so there’s no reason to not believe it now. 

“Fine, I believe you. What more do you want from me?” 

“I just want you to answer a few questions.” She takes his silence as acquiescence to her desires and grabs another chair to take a seat in front of Taehyung. “Why do you have so many books on reincarnation.”

“Personal fascination. Next question.” Taehyung handles the question with ease but inside he’s a lot less composed. He’d almost forgot the ancient texts about reincarnation he’d rounded up the second he’d returned to France. 

“Why did you leave Phoenix like your ass was on fire?” She inquires with a tilt of her head that Taehyung would probably find cute if she wasn’t such a pain in his ass. 

“Because I was tired of being there, anything else?” Phoenix doesn’t believe him one bit and Taehyung knows it but what he doesn’t know is why she chooses not to acknowledge his obvious lie. She slouches back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. 

“What’s with all the pictures of Jacques Bourdain?” She lifts a hand to point at Taehyung’s offender wall before folding it back across her chest.

“How do you know who he is? He’s pretty low on the politics totem pole.” He questions with a lift of his eyebrow.

“I managed to get into some swanky party my second or third night here. That fucker groped me at the bar then had me thrown out when I punched him.” Just thinking about his vile hands on her body makes Phoenix seethe. She shoots out of her seat much the same way Taehyung had in that Arizona diner. He realizes then that Phoenix may actually be useful to him. He may as well make the most of her presence since the universes seems so keen on forcing her into his life. 

“What if I told you that I could help you get revenge?” Phoenix returns to her seat, eyeing Taehyung intently.

“If it involves that bastard’s blood on my hands, I’m in.” Taehyung nods once before crossing the room to his computer. He opens his file on the bastard in question and shares his screen with the massive tv mounted to the wall.

“How much do you know about me?” Taehyung questions as he turns to face Phoenix once more. 

“I know you’re an incubus with a dick that’s supposedly the size of the empire-state building but my contacts were pretty much mute on everything else.” Phoenix replies with a not so subtle glance at the front of Taehyung’s slacks. “Looks kinda average to me though.”

Taehyung can’t help but preen at the praise about his cock that Phoenix was obviously quite loathe about receiving. It seems that his recreational romps with a fellow demon here and there has built up quite a reputation for him over the years. 

“Allow me to fill in the blanks for you.” Taehyung turns back to his computer, fingers flying across the keys. Pictures of people that Phoenix has only seen on international news channels appear on the screen in rapid succession. “In terms of the humans I go to bed with, my preferred type are the most immoral shit stains I can find. Modern-day slave owners like Amanda Pine? Dead. CEOs that cut off basic resources to entire populations of indigenous people to steal their land like Jason Blackwell? Dead. Homophobic fashion house owners like Donatello Bianchi that put out hits on the small creatives that they steal designs from while putting up a homosexual front to sell said designs? Dead.” 

Phoenix is admittedly in awe as Taehyung continues to list the names of the powerful people and their heinous crimes that he’s punished them for. Her entire existence until this very moment has been built on the notion that demons are inherently evil and bring nothing but destruction to the world and the people around them. Thus, they have to be put down like rabid animals. Now, now she’s not so sure that that wide-sweeping assumption was correct. 

“This is cool and all but I’m not sure how I fit into that. You obviously have a…system that’s working for you.” Phoenix trails off as she looks over the pictures on the screen once more.

“Jacques Bourdain is straight as an arrow and toxically so. My system as you call it won’t work on him and that’s where you come in.” Taehyung leans back against his desk as he watches Phoenix for a reaction. Her expression is carefully devoid of anything that would allow him to gauge what’s going on insider her head. “If you help me then I don’t have to spend weeks planning a new approach.”

“Let’s do it.”

“How do I look?” Phoenix asks, doing a quick twirl in the red cocktail dress that just barely covered her ass. Sky high platform heels adorned her heels, the red bottoms almost the exact same shade as her dress. Cartier diamond studs from his own personal collection glittered whenever they peeked through the thick curls that seemed to bounce whenever she walked.

“Bewitching.” Taehyung replied and he means it wholeheartedly. The dress is perfectly suited for the luxurious curves of her figure. He’s already enraptured with her from one glance. She should have no problem catching Bourdain’s attention tonight. 

The drive to the nightclub is spent going over every fine detail of their plan. Phoenix is confident and assured as she repeats everything to Taehyung with perfect accuracy. This is just like any other hunting mission to her only this time she’s hunting a different kind of demon. 

According to some intel from one of Taehyung’s contacts, the corrupt politician will be at an exclusive night club called Deux, his current favorite spot for picking up girls. Potential patrons dressed to the nines give Taehyung and Phoenix strange looks as they stride to the front of the line. Taehyung can hear whispered words about how they’ll never get in in passing, smirking to himself. The confused ogling becomes outrage when the bouncer at the door steps aside to let them in immediately. 

“That’s how it’s done.” Taehyung murmurs almost to himself as he follows Phoenix up the narrow flight of stairs. 

He nearly misses a step when the action of climbing the stairs causes her dress to ride up enough for the curvature of her ass to start peeking through. He reaches forward to hold the hem down while doing his best not to stare. Taehyung nearly groans when his fingertips meet the warm flesh of her thigh. All of his centuries spent fucking for survival and this one woman has him flustered like some prepubescent schoolboy without even trying. Unacceptable. 

Bourdain isn’t hard to spot once they reach the top of the stairs. He’s perched in the VIP area like a hawk, nursing a drink as he scopes out which unfortunate young woman he deems pretty enough to make his victim for the night. Taehyung makes sure to disappear immediately as planned, leaving Phoenix to her own devices. He watches with rapt attention as she quickly gains entrance to the VIP section. Taehyung recalls the advice he’d given her when they were deciding on what she should wear tonight. If you look like you belong no one will question if you actually do. Looks like Phoenix had taken him seriously and it is already working in their favor. 

Taehyung grabs a seat at the bar and signals for the bartender. He quietly sips on his whiskey when it comes as he watches Phoenix do her thing. She boldly takes a seat next to Bourdain who looks a bit surprised to see her. They strike up a whispered conversation that quickly turns heated, presumably because of the mention of the security camera footage of him assaulting Phoenix stored on the flash drive tucked between her breasts. Bourdain’s gaze falls to her breasts when she suggestively runs a single finger over her cleavage. Phoenix parts ways with the politician and with a knowing glance exits the club. Bourdain looks deranged as he downs the rest of his drink, the fingers of his free hand roughly yanking through his hair. It’s not long before he’s following the same path Phoenix had taken towards the exit a few minutes prior.

When he reaches the street, Taehyung follows the sweet citrus scent of Phoenix’s perfume. There is an alley a few blocks down from the hotel that the two of them have deemed the perfect spot to give Bourdain what he deserves. Taehyung’s step falters when Phoenix’s scent trail suddenly cuts off before he’s even reached the alleyway. He looks around only to realize he’s standing next to a near empty parking lot.

“Fucking hell, Phoenix.” His steps are quick as he heads in the opposite direction to his own vehicle. Just when he thought that she’d learned to follow directions, the wench has proved him wrong by going horribly off script. 

He doesn’t expect her to answer, but he calls her phone anyway just to say he made the effort. Phoenix picks up on the second ring much to his surprise. If demented killer clowns were ever recorded giggling they would sound exactly like the woman on the other end of the phone call. Blood thirsty and psychotic. 

“Phoenix, where the hell are you?” 

“Jacques wanted to go somewhere a little more private. I’ll be back soon don’t worry.” She cuts the call before he can get another word in. 

“God damn you, Phoenix Emery.”

Four hours twenty nine minutes and thirty eight seconds. Taehyung is seated at the bottom of the main staircase when Phoenix finally struts through the front door of his home like she owns the place. There is a pleased gleam in her eyes that only shines brighter when she smiles at him. Taehyung hates the fact that his anger dissipates at the sight of such joy on her face. Thankfully, he’s able to maintain the scowling expression he’s been sporting ever since he’d last spoken to the woman in question.

“Look I know you’re mad that I didn’t follow the plan but that bastard definitely got what was coming to him. I promise I’ll do everything your way next time.” She has the decency to look almost sheepish as she stands in front of Taehyung’s seated figure.

“What makes you think there will be a next time?” He arches an eyebrow in question. “For one, you’ve already proved that I can’t trust you to stick to the script. Plus, I don’t actually need you, especially considering this is the only way I get to feed.”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure Jacques Bourdain isn’t the first loser you’ve gone after that doesn’t like dick and I’m sure he won’t be the last. Let me help kill bad guys, Taehyung.” She looks almost desperate as she pleads for him to let her stay. “You took away the last bit of good I had in my life when you killed my Derrick and Brewer. You owe me this. You owe me this and more, Taehyung.”

“Fine,” Taehyung breathes out after a moment. “but only on one condition. You tell me what you are.”

“Thought we covered this right before I put a bullet in your brain.” Her eyes become engulfed in darkness just as they had that afternoon in the meadow before returning to their normal dark brown. 

“And yet, you have a heartbeat.” Taehyung points out. 

“The demon that tried to turn me couldn’t get the job done. I’m still human if only just a little bit.” Phoenix replies with a shrug of her shoulders as if they’re discussing the weather. There is tension in her shoulders that suggests she’s not as okay with the subject matter as she’s trying to portray. Part of Taehyung wants to press the issue, but a larger part of him decides to leave it alone for now. She’s human enough to not arouse the suspicions of full-blooded demons which she’s obviously used to her advantage as she also happens to have enough demon blood in her to give her access to some of their more supernatural abilities. 

“We’re not done discussing why what you did tonight wasn’t okay, but we’ll pick that conversation up again tomorrow.” Taehyung rises to his feet and looks over the woman in front of him appraisingly. “For now, you’re welcome to any of the extra bedrooms upstairs. Good night.”

Taehyung is chopping strawberries when the newscaster interrupts her piece on a recent factory fire to report on some breaking news. According to the overly bubbly reporter, the body of Jacques Bourdain had been discovered about an hour ago. The politician had apparently been found parked in his car outside of a known brothel that catered to people in his tax bracket. The reporter on site looked visibly ill. After hearing how both of Bourdain’s hands along with his penis had been detached and placed on the hood of his car, Taehyung could understand why.

“Officials say there was a flash drive was found hanging from the victim’s neck but no word on what that flash drive may have contained. Back to you, Mila.” 

Taehyung goes back to his strawberries as the sound of Mila and her cohost discuss the implications of Bourdain’s death. It’s only a matter of time before the contents of that flash drive come to light. The “beloved family man” reputation that Bourdain had worked so hard to curate would go up in flames. 

“Good morning.” Taehyung turns to face Phoenix as she enters the kitchen and he almost wishes that he hadn’t. He must have stored some clothing in the guest room she’d ended up in as she is clad in one of his t-shirts and not much else from the look of it. “Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your shirt. I realized that all of my bags are still in my hotel and I was not about to sleep in that dress.

“S’fine.” He offers her some of his strawberries which she gladly accepts. She stares at the tv thoughtfully as she perches on one of the barstools and munches away on the juicy fruit. 

It’s a struggle for Taehyung to keep his eyes off of her thighs as she spins slowly on the stool. His grip on the knife is tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. She’s tormenting him and, judging from the way she’s dedicating her attention to the news, she has no idea she’s even doing it. 

“The dismemberment was a nice touch.” Taehyung points out, breaking the silence. Phoenix turns to face him with a pleased smile. 

“A known rapist and abuser like him deserved that and more. I just hope all of his past victims can find peace in knowing he can’t hurt them or anyone else ever again.” She snags a few more strawberries before turning back to the television. She’s practically radiating with joy at hearing the media talk about the brutally gruesome aftermath of her rage. 

“So, who’s next on the hit list?” Phoenix questions when the news program goes on a commercial break. She looks affronted when Taehyung denies her attempt at snagging more strawberries but she stays silent. 

“Next up on the agenda is Johnson Danville. His company has caused a wave of childhood cancer by dumping its waste in a nearby town’s water supply and he thinks he’s above the law because he has enough money to thwart any legal action.”

“What’s our approach?” She’s all business now. Brow furrowed, jaw set, and fists clenched as images of her snuffing out the life of such a horrid man probably play on loop in her head.

“There is no our. I’m doing this one on my own.” Taehyung silences her instant protests with a single raised hand. “Consider this your punishment for not following the plan last night.” The cute way she pouts at his decision makes her look like a child that’s been denied candy. Taehyung is tempted to give in just so she’ll stop looking at him like a kicked puppy. Thankfully, the doorbell rings and saves him from making a rash decision out of his own weakness.

“That should be your bags.” She doesn’t seem particularly concerned about how I found which hotel she was staying in to have her luggage delivered which doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung. He makes a mental note to explore why that is later. 

Phoenix is seated at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him when Taehyung emerges from his room. His steps falter for a second but he gets himself together before she has a chance to notice.  He busies himself with his cuff links as he hurries down the stairs. She can pout all she wants but Taehyung is determined to remain firm in his decision. If she wants to be a part of what he does, then she has to learn that what she did with Bourdain is something that won’t be tolerated. 

“Sitting at the bottom of the stairs like a lost puppy won’t change things, Phoenix.”

“Oh come on. You’re acting like I did something so wrong.” She protests vehemently. “You were going to kill him anyway so why are you so mad that I freestyled a little bit?”

“It’s not about that. It’s about trust.” Taehyung makes final adjustments to his suit in the mirror by the door, staring at Phoenix in the reflection. The puppy eyes she’d been sporting when he first came downstairs have been replaced with indignant anger. “I can’t work with a wild card.”  

Taehyung gives Phoenix one last appraising look before disappearing through the ornate front door. Phoenix finds herself staring at the carved wood for a few seconds. Her first instinct is to go out and kill something to release the rage coursing through her. She races upstairs to the guest room she’s chosen to occupy. 

She hadn’t been able to bring any of her own weapons save a few ceramic knives that she’d been able to sneak through airport security. She’d rectified that as soon as she landed in Paris by securing a few firearms. It’s as she’s tucking her nine millimeter into the waistband of her jeans that she catches sight of herself in the full-length mirror in the closet. Staring back at her is not her own reflection but rather the image fo her mother. She can hear her voice clear as day repeating the mantra that she’d parroted to Phoenix every time she’d done something self-destructive. 

“Your future is manifested through your own actions.”

Phoenix closes her eyes, trying to hold on to her mother for as long as she can. The person staring back at her looks eerily similar to the woman who’d brought her into this world, but there is a pain in her eyes that is deeply rooted in her soul. Before common sense can catch up with her, Phoenix draws her weapon and fires. Once. Twice. Three times. Until the image of her own despair lays shattered at her boot clad feet.

Taehyung returns the next morning rejuvenated and expecting to walk into an empty house. He’d fully expected for Phoenix to work herself up into an enraged fit and leave. The first thing he notices when he steps into the foyer is the lingering smell of a gun that’s recently been fired. The air is still, undisturbed. Taehyung is relieved to not be able to pick up on the smell of blood but he is still uneasy. He draws his own weapon from his waistband. After checking the first floor, he creeps up the stairs. The first room he checks is Phoenix’s. He finds his new roommate stretched out across her bed with a gun on the mattress next to her. He gives two short knocks on the door, startling her awake. 

“Woah, woah, woah it’s just me.” Taehyung shouts when Phoenix immediately draws the weapon next to her. He definitely should’ve expected that. “Why have you been shooting a gun in the house? Was someone in here?”

Her eyes get comically wide as she glances towards the closet. Taehyung can tell she probably didn’t mean to do that when she winces immediately after. His eyebrow raises in confusion. He’s never seen her show so little restraint over her actions in all the time he’s known her. Though she tries to stop him, Taehyung strides over the walk-in closet. The remnants of the antique mirror that had once stood in the closet lay in sad, little pieces at his feet. 

“Do want to talk about this?” Taehyung murmurs as continues to survey the damage. He can almost hear the gears in her brain whirring, trying to find an answer that doesn’t make her sound unstable. 

“My future is manifested through my own actions. I don’t want to mess up again.” He turns slowly to face Phoenix where she stands in the doorway of the closet. She feels small under his piercing gaze but she doesn’t shy away. Taehyung is silent for a long while.

“Okay then. Come, we have work to do.” He slides by her and returns to his bedroom with Phoenix following behind him. Neither one of them can really put their finger on it, but something has shifted. She follows him dutifully to his bedroom.

“Now, before we do anything I want you answer one question.” Taehyung starts as he takes a seat in the leather chair in front of his computer. “What are you?” Phoenix was afraid of this question. It’s been months and she still hasn’t fully accepted the truth of it herself.

A lie is on the tip of her tongue. Taehyung must be able to sense it because he raises an eyebrow as if challenging her to let the lie fall from her lips. Phoenix bites down on her bottom lip as she contemplates what she wants to do. Her mother’s words play again in her head so she takes a seat on the end of his bed and tells him everything. Taehyung has never heard of such an occurrence and if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat clear as day, he wouldn’t even believe that something of this nature could even happen. He is absolutely floored though in hindsight he probably shouldn’t be. The evidence has always been right there in front of him.

“That’s…” Taehyung trails off as he searches for the right words. “That’s definitely something. I’m sure you’ve had a hard time coping with that.” Phoenix laughs humorlessly. He doesn’t even know the half of it. 

A single tear slides down her face and she does her best to keep the rest of them at bay. Taehyung feels a physical ache in his arms at not being able to reach out and comfort her. Arabella had always told him that she felt better about whatever was going on whenever he held her but he has to continuously remind himself that the woman in front of him is not Arabella. So he comforts her in the best way he knows how, turning to his computer to bring up a profile on the next person he plans to eradicate.

Phoenix hums to herself as she steps inside of the modern split-level that Taehyung has summoned her to. The tangy scent of fresh blood caresses her senses like a fleece blanket. According to the text message she’d received about half an hour ago, things had gotten…messy and he needed new clothes to wear. She whistles lowly when she finally sets foot into the kitchen where Taehyung had chosen to take care of business.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill someone in a room with quite this many knives.” Phoenix observes as Taehyung sheds his shirt and drops it into the trash bag she’s holding open for him. It’s littered with bloody puncture marks from obvious stab wounds and yet his skin is tanned and unmarred. She whistles lowly, wiggling her eyebrows when he drops his pants to the ground to drop those into the bag as well. Taehyung makes some lewd comment about his dick being to die for if she ever felt like going full demon which earns him a kick to the knee.

“Duly noted, sensei.” He mutters with a roll of his eyes. Phoenix just snickers, tying up the bag holding his ruined clothes while Taehyung changes into the hoodie and jeans she’d brought for him. Conversation continues to flow easily between the two of them as if there isn’t a corpse at their feet. She glances at the pool of blood around Taehyung’s latest snack, an art teacher by the name of Aleyna with a taste for prepubescent boys. Her throat is slashed clean through to her spinal cord.

She drops to a crouch next to the bloody body on the linoleum. She pulls out the small pocket knife she keeps tucked between her breasts. Taehyung looks on curiously as Phoenix carves the word pedophile into the bare chest of his victim. He’s about to remark on how neatly spaced her letters are when he hears sirens approaching the house.

“Time to go.” He mutters as he grabs Phoenix by the hand. Judging by how close the sirens are, it’s too late to hop in the car and speed away. He remembers Aleyna mentioning something about the home having an expansive basement that was converted into a wine cellar. Hopefully, that means that there’s another exit.

The locked cellar door is no match for Taehyung’s superior strength as he wrenches it open. He can hear the front door being broken down. Aleyna must have had some sort of silent alarm that she’d managed to trip. He curses to himself at the inconvenience of it all. Part of him wants to tap into the renewed power thrumming in his veins and take out the law enforcement team currently sweeping the home, but the more rational part of him reminds him that while his DNA is untraceable, Phoenix’s is not. He can’t risk her getting nicked by a blade or a stray bullet and leaving evidence at the scene of a murder. Taehyung’s eyes go wide when he hears the tell-tale sound of a silencer being twisted into place. 

“What the hell is that for?” He whispers incredulously.

“CYA, my friend. CYA” She whispers back with a devilish smirk as she hands Taehyung the extra firearm she had tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

Thankfully, the wine cellar is equipped with a second entrance as they slip out into the night. Phoenix and Taehyung take down the two officers patrolling at the back before they get the chance to even think about calling for backup. They drag their bodies into the shrubs. The car is a lost cause with all of the police activity going on at the front of the house so they’re forced to make tracks through the woods.

They don’t make it far before things go plummeting down hill. A loud shout has Phoenix twisting in place to fire off a few shots. Unsurprisingly, she hits all of her intended targets, but this time she’s not quick enough to prevent the officers from getting off a shot of their own. Rage floods Taehyung’s entire being at the quickly growing stain growing in Phoenix’s left shoulder. He lifts her into his arms and runs faster than he can ever recall running before. Her slowing heartbeat spurs his legs to move even quicker. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

Over the past few months that they’ve been working together he’s learned just how much Phoenix treasured her humanity. Despite her perceived recklessness, she’s never put herself into a situation that she had any real doubts about fighting her way out of. A few bruises and scrapes here and there but never has she incurred anything as serious as the gun shot she’s just incurred. Taehyung is less than two minutes away from the closest hospital when he hears it. The steady thump, thump, thump that he’s been so used to hearing falls silent. The absence of it is so deafening that his steps falter.

“Phoenix?” He jostles her in his arms expecting, hoping for her to come back around. Her head simply lolls around on her shoulders. 

Taehyung’s heart hasn’t beat in over four hundred years and yet he could swear that the muscle is constricting violently in his chest. When he’d lost Arabella he’d been in absolute agony, but she had still been alive when she’d left him. His knees buckle from the weight of the range of emotions threatening to drag him under. Deep down he knows that she’s not truly dead, but it hurts all the same. They’re close enough to the city now for the sounds of people and cars to reach his ears but none of it matters. He hugs Phoenix’s limp body to his chest. In spite of how they came together, she has become not only his partner in crime but one of his closest friends. Taehyung nearly leaps out of his skin when something touches the back of his head.

“You smell like sex, blood, and adrenaline. It’s awful.” Phoenix croaks out, pushing him away with a pinched expression on her face. Taehyung laughs despite himself. It doesn’t matter if she technically just died, Phoenix can never let him live.

“I’ll shower later. We have to get out of here.” Taehyung hauls them both off of the ground, dusting the dirt off of Phoenix’s jeans despite her protests. She tries to yank her hand out of his when he latches onto it to pull her along, but Taehyung is having none of it.

When Taehyung had said that they needed to get out of here, Phoenix thought he meant get out of the woods and back to his house to hide out. It wasn’t until he told the driver of the cab they hailed to take them to the airport that she realized he meant that they were getting out of the country entirely. She had nothing on her but her American drivers license, forty euros, and a black cat sticker and yet she was sitting on a private jet headed for the Maldives in less than two hours. That was nearly three weeks ago and Phoenix can’t exactly say that she’s upset at that. At first, she’d been positive that she would get bored of not having a clear and purposeful goal for her time but that notion had quickly been squashed. 

These days she spends her days exploring the island with Taehyung or lounging on the private section of beach in front of the massive villa that they’ve been staying in. Today, they’re in search of a small cave that the locals say is home to a hot spring that Taehyung is dying to take a dip in. Phoenix is just about tired of navigating the precarious path of slippery rocks when Taehyung suddenly shouts. She nearly loses her footing but recovers in time to see him dashing off towards the cave she figures is the one they’ve been searching for. By the time she catches up to him, he’s already waist deep in the water.

“You couldn’t even pretend to wait for me?” She asks playfully as she strips off her clothes, dropping them in a pile on top of his. He totally submerges himself in the crystal clear water as opposed to answering her question.

The spend the next half hour frolicking around, dunking each other under the water. Taehyung has just bucked her off of his shoulders when they decide to take a break and just float around. Head tilted back, arms outstretched, Phoenix is almost asleep as she drifts around on her back when Taehyung interrupts her solace.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” His voice is so soft that she almost doesn’t hear him even with her enhanced hearing. Even so, she contemplates ignoring him anyway just to avoid the conversation he’s trying to have. 

This isn’t the first time he’s tried to get her to talk about her emotions and she’s tempted to give him the same answer she’s given him on his previous attempts. No. She doesn’t get the chance to do so though. Phoenix gasps out loud when she’s suddenly flipped upright and lifted out of the water to sit on a large rock next to the hot spring. Taehyung’s hands remain firmly planted on her hips to ensure she doesn’t try to escape. She’d discovered a while ago that Taehyung is actually quite clingy with people he trusts so she’s not surprised when he lays his head in her lap with his arms wrapped tightly around her and threatens to keep her trapped that way until the sun explodes unless she talks to him.

“Taehyung, this is madness. Move.” She nudges him with enough strength to send a human man flying, but he doesn’t move an inch. They fall into a stubborn silence as they both wait for the other to make their next move. As Phoenix expects, Taehyung cracks first.

“If I tell you a secret, will you talk to me?” He murmurs against the damp skin of her thigh. She feels more than hears his words.

“Depends on what the secret is.” Phoenix kicks her legs lazily on either side of Taehyung’s body. He takes a long, shuddering deep breath that intrigues her enough that her legs stop moving.

“The reincarnation books I have in my room. It’s not just a personal fascination.” Taehyung falls silent as if he’s gathering the courage to get to the root of what he’s trying to say. Phoenix had already assumed that there was a deeper reason for the massive tomes that Taehyung hoarded but she’d never felt like it was her place to intrude. 

“I was in love once. It was the 18th century and I met this firecracker of a woman that made more heart beat fast for the first time since being turned.” Phoenix listens dutifully as Taehyung describes the woman that had held his heart in her hands. The more he talks, the more she feels this odd sense of familiarity. As if she knew this woman personally. Her brain connects the dots right as Taehyung gets to the gist of his tale.

“Wait,” She stops him before he can get the words out. “are you about to say what I think you’re about to say? Because if you are, I have an assload of questions.”

“Do I think you’re the reincarnation of my Arabella? Yes. Can I prove it beyond a reasonable doubt? No.” He confirms. Phoenix pushes at his shoulders and Taehyung allows himself to be moved. Judging by Taehyung’s expression, the panic sitting like a stone in her gut is manifested on her face.

“How long have you thought this?” 

“Since I first laid eyes on you in that field. I’d gone through your friends’ phone but they didn’t have a single picture of you. I nearly got up and left when I saw you.” Phoenix snorts as she replays that day in her mind as she often does only this time with Taehyung running for the hills the second he sets his eyes upon her face. 

“This probably sounds ridiculous, but I feel this…connection to you.” Taehyung explains with a sheepish look on his face. “It’s like you’re a planet and I’m a moon being pulled into your orbit.”

She doesn’t have the courage to admit that she feels the same way. Phoenix slips back into the water now that Taehyung is no longer physically restraining her. He says nothing as she moves behind him to wrap her limbs around him. She allows a few moments of silence to pass before she unloads everything she’s been holding back. The disgust she feels at what she’s become. The shame of feeling like she’s let her parents down considering she is now the very creature they dedicated their lives to hunting like rabid dogs. Her fears for the future and the possibility that darkness that is practically inherent in demons could one day overtake her. 

“Do you think I’m evil?” Taehyung probes.

“Well, no, not really.” She answers without missing a beat. Her original assumption of Taehyung had proven to be quite false despite the events that had allowed them to opportunity to build the friendship they have today.

“So why do you think that you’ll suddenly become some sort of degenerate just because you’ve lost your human side? You’re still the same Phoenix Emery as you were before the change. Demons make their own choices and have to live with the consequences of them just like everyone else.” His words hang in the humid air, marinating into her psyche. She’s not entirely sure that she believe him but the thought of being able to hang on to some sense of normalcy give her hope for the centuries to come.

“Taehyung, do you love me?” Phoenix voices into the still air in the double bedroom she and Taehyung share. The villa has four other rooms with single beds and yet for whatever reason they’d decided that this room was perfect.

“If this is a ploy to get me to sing Drake again, I’ll kill you.”

“No, seriously. Do you love me? Since I’m probably the reincarnation of your dead girlfriend or whatever.”

“I care for you deeply and I think your ass is perfectly perky and round, but no I do not love you the way I loved, Arabella because you are not her.” Taehyung responds matter of factly. An inkling of regret is creeping in. Maybe telling Phoenix about Arabella hadn’t been the best idea.

“Don’t get so full of yourself, Taehyung. I’m not looking for you to pledge your undying love for me. I just wanted to know.”

Taehyung stays quiet for so long that she’s beginning to think he’s said all he plans to say. “Phoenix, have you ever been in love?”

“Once. At least I thought it was love but then he made me choose between him and hunting and I hesitated.” Taehyung whistles lowly, flipping over in his bed to face her in the darkness of the bedroom. He analyzes her side profile as she continues to focus her eyes on the ceiling. His lips tingle with the urge to ask her more questions but he remains silent, waiting.

“I last saw him about two years ago. He’s married now with a kid and a dog and a white picket fence. I’m happy for him because I don’t think I could’ve given him that.” She whispers solemnly. Her tone is flat and even but Taehyung can hear the emotions that she’s not voicing.

“Would you do it differently if you could go back in time?” He asks curiously. Phoenix doesn’t turn over but she does glance at him fleetingly.

“Honestly, no. I’m a sadistic motherfucker that like to hunt and kill beings I deem unworthy of living. That’s not the type of person who settles down with 2.5 kids and a dog.”

“Touché”

“What about you? If you could’ve turned Arabella, would you have done it?” Taehyung should’ve expected her to turn his own question back on him but it catches him off guard all the same. A few months ago, he would’ve said yes without a shadow of a doubt. Now? He’s not so sure.

“I don’t know that I would. I’d always thought that I’d do anything to bring her back, but I don’t think she’d be happy this way.” Phoenix hums thoughtfully. 

“Well at least you have me. Annoying but cute.”

“What have I ever done to deserve such a blessing.” Phoenix lashes out with one of the extra pillows on her bed, using it to get revenge on Taehyung for the sarcasm dripping from his words.  There’s no way the fluffy down pillow has any effect on him but it makes her feel better all the same. 

“Sarcastic bastard.” She spits out only for him to playfully stick his tongue out at her with a childish giggle.

“Aw, should I kiss it and make it better?” Taehyung teases. His eyes nearly bug out of his head when Phoenix says yes.

At first, he thinks she’s just kidding until she gets out of her own bed and into his. She slips underneath the covers and scoots close enough to Taehyung for every inch of her body to be pressed up against him. The air in the room feels thick with the pheromones and sexual tension radiating from the both of them. He can already feel himself rising to the occasion but he doesn’t want to read too much into it although a blind man could see that there is only one way to interpret what’s happening right now. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. She’s brought her face so close to his that every word is punctuated by the slight brushing of his lips against hers. Her eyes sweep over his face.

“Research.” Taehyung practically growls when she presses her lips against his. Not kissing her back doesn’t even cross his mind as her tongue traces against the seam of his lips and he lets her in without protest. He explores and plunders her mouth just as they’ve done with the various caves and forests they’ve ventured into during their time in the Maldives, with reverent excitement.

His large hands slink underneath the t-shirt she’d stolen from his dresser and he’s pleased to discover that there isn’t much to be found beneath it other than her supple skin. Their lips remain connected even as Taehyung pulls her body on top of his. He can feel her hardened nipples through her shirt and he’s overcome with the need to feel her skin directly on his. The thin fabric doesn’t stand a chance against him when gathers it into his fists, yanking until she’s totally free of it. She makes some comment about his eagerness that he chooses to ignore in favor of covering her chest in as many marks as he feels fit to create. 

Phoenix rearranges her legs so that she’s straddling Taehyung’s lap. The new change in position means the sizable bulge barely contained by his boxer briefs is now pressed perfectly against her clit. Her hips start moving practically on their own, settling into a pattern of slow, purposeful grinds. Taehyung grabs at her ass with both hands to help her along. Even in the dark, he can still see the growing patch of wetness on the grey material that remains between them. The soft whimpers she makes every time he bumps against her clit could rival even the world’s greatest symphony. Her breasts swing tantalizingly in his face, but just as he goes for them again, she pulls away. 

His protests fizzle out when she tugs on the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips to help her out, reaching down to slowly stroke himself once he’s free of them. The shocked look on her face is definitely something he plans to tease her about for the next few decades, but for now Taehyung is more focused on getting his cock shoved down her throat as quickly as possible. 

“Taehyung, that’s an excessive amount of dick.” Phoenix can’t take her eyes off of the stiff appendage between his toned thighs. She’d always thought that the rumors of him having a dick the size of the Empire State Building were just that, rumors, but she’s quickly discovering that he definitely gives the popular landmark a run for its money in the size department. She’s both incredibly turned on and more than a little hesitant about fucking someone with that much to work with.

“Scared?” The smirk on his face lets her know that he knows exactly what that does to her. She feels challenged and Phoenix Emery never backs down from a challenge. She’ll die trying to prove him wrong and he knows it.

She gives him a firm squeeze when she takes his length into her hand. His head falls back as a groan rattles around his chest. Taehyung gasps at the unexpected sensation of Phoenix suckling on his balls as she continues to stroke him just the way he likes. She licks a stripe up his cock from base to tip, sucking on his leaking head before repeating the process. He hisses when she finally envelopes his cock in her mouth. His hips push forward on instinct to get as much of himself into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth as he can. 

“Fuck your mouth is so good.” He murmurs. She hums around his cock in her mouth, burying her nose in the finely trimmed hairs at the base of his erection. Taehyung has never been to heaven but in that moment he swears he can see God. Euphoria spreads throughout his body as Phoenix continues to bob her head up and down on his cock. It’s sloppy, messy, and delightfully amazing. He can feel his balls drawing up, on the verge of an orgasm when she pulls her head away from his lap.

She walks on her knees until she’s straddling him once more. She leans down to kiss and suck at the tanned skin of his neck, making her way up and along his jaw. Taehyung is only too happy to reciprocate when she presses her lips against his insistently. He could spend the rest of his existence kissing her and it would make him the happiest man alive. His lips are wrenched from hers when she suddenly flips the both of them over so that Taehyung is hovering above her. His cock, still damp with her spit, rests against her pubic bone. He stops her when she grabs his cock and moves it to where she needs him most.

“Wait, but don’t you want me to finger you first? Or eat you out?” He questions. “You said yourself that I have an excessive amount of cock and I have to make sure you’re wet enough for it.”

“If I get any wetter, we’re both going to drown now stop making excuses and fuck me.” Phoenix drives her point home by grabbing his length again and dragging it through her drenched folds a few times before lining him up with her entrance. Taehyung doesn’t need any more convincing than that. He joins them totally with one strong thrust.

One thrust turns into two which turns into two more until Taehyung is sliding in and out of her like a well-oiled machine. He pauses long enough to press her knees into her chest before he resumes his movements. The change in position has his name flying out of Phoenix’s mouth like the darkest of curses. Her nails are digging into his thighs and the pain only adds to his pleasure. The image of Taehyung covered in sweat as he tosses his head back with his teeth bared like some sort of feral animal is one that Phoenix never wants to forget. She does her absolute best to keep her eyes open to commit this moment to memory. The sound he makes when she tightens her inner muscles around him could only be described as a growl.

His hands release her legs in favor of latching on to her bouncing breasts instead. She keens when he rolls her sensitive nipples between his fingers. Taehyung switches gears from his relentless pounding to a more purposeful grind of his hips, making sure to press his pelvis into her clit on every thrust. Phoenix grabs at both of his wrists and pulls in an effort to bring him closer to her. He obliges her with a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. She wraps her limbs around him and holds on tight as the waves of pleasure begin to drag her under. Taehyung follows her over the edge with a harsh bite to her shoulder that makes Phoenix want to cum again. They fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and feelings that will be left to sort out when they wake. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Taehyung sing-songs. He yanks open the curtains to let in the light and isn’t surprised when his actions are met with a creative string of curses that would make even the most depraved demon cower in fear.

“I will rip your toe nails off and shove them in your eyes. Go away!” Phoenix buries her face into one of the few pillows that had managed to stay on the bed during their late night frolic but to no avail. Taehyung is quick to snatch it away from her along with anything else she could possible use to hide away.

She eventually realizes that resistance is futile and sits up in bed. Taehyung is momentarily  distracted by the small bruises and bite marks that have yet to fad away. They’ll be gone in the next few hours and part of him wants to take a few pictures to hold onto for his own personal use. 

“I think we should talk about last night.” Taehyung crawls back onto the bed, pulling Phoenix into his arms just because he can. She twists around in his hold until their face to face. 

“What is there to talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know maybe why?”

“Remember the ex I told you about right before…that?” Taehyung nods his affirmation. There is an inkling of fear that what she’s about to say is going to kill the domestic dream that had danced across his mind’s eye all night.

“When he asked me to choose between him and hunting, I couldn’t do it but just the mere thought of not being with you despite how we ended up together physically pains me.” Phoenix distracts herself by dragging her finger across Taehyung’s chest in a nonsensical pattern. She can’t handle looking him in the eye while she talks about her feelings this way. “We’ve both hurt each other in major ways but, as twisted as it is, I think it was meant to happen this way. Fate and all that other mushy shit, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Taehyung nuzzles her cheek with his nose which she recoils from with protests about cooties. He shuts her up with a kiss that he hopes conveys all of the words he has no idea how to say.

[bluespiderlilies]

Reincarnation | Hashibira Inosuke

⟵ previous (chapter seven). current (chapter eight).  next (chapter nine).   ⟶

❝she stumbled. she fell. she rose. she dragged him down with bloodstained hands.❞

— then she took the throne and wiped her hands clean (syeda n.)

“Caw! Your letters are here!”

You furrowed your brows at the sound of Kemuri’s high-pitched screech, muttering profanities as you placed your arm over your eyes. However, you felt the folded papers fall onto your face, causing you to clench the blanket before getting up.

“Kemuri,” you hissed, rubbing your eyes. “Keep it down. There’s another person in here, you know.”

She merely cocked her head at you before flying out of the window.

“She’s so spoiled. I should’ve never given her so many treats.” You muttered, gathering the letters before walking over the chabudai table.

You looked over at Inosuke, who was sleeping soundly—well, with an exception of a couple snores here and there. It was cute.

Shit. What is wrong with you? You keep calling Inosuke cute.

I mean, not like he isn’t, or anything…

You blinked rapidly.

Shut the fuck up, me. And read the letters.

You sighed, pursing your lips as you unfolded the letter, eyes skimming over the ink kanji.

‘You broke your sword already?! This is why I hate young people like you being my clients! Breaking my fucking swords that I’ve worked so hard on! Bitch! I’m gonna kill you when I see you!

(Name)-chan, I apologize for Hotaru’s behavior. As usual, he’s throwing tantrums like the man-child he is. However, I will reassure you that he will deliver your sword by noon or later. I hope you are safe,

Chief of Village,

Tecchikawahra.’

“Man-child…” You muttered, stifling a laugh. You folded the letter neatly and placed it to the side, opening Shiori’s letter.

‘(Name),

I’m glad you are doing well so far. You even made a new friend outside of the village, so I’m proud of you for that. I know being social is not your strength, but it is good to know that you are trying.

Please, as much as you can, take care of your injuries. I know you have the habit of trying to ignore and suppress the pain as long as you can, but you know it makes it worse. For me.

That reminds me, Hideyoshi wanted me to tell you that he misses you and wants to see you back in the village soon. Mostly since he wants to play hanafuda and shogi with you. But I know that’s a lie since he doesn’t want to admit he sees you as a sister.

I also want to see you again soon. Because I miss you and I need to talk to you about your sword in person.

Stay safe,

Shiori.’

You bit your lip, looking over the ink kanji on the mulberry paper. The sword, again…? What is so special about it? It really confuses you.

With a sigh, you place the letters to the side before getting up. You looked over at Inosuke, who was sleeping—with the occasional snore here and there. Raising a hand, you were about to brush his hair out of his face when the shoji suddenly slid open, causing you to jump out of surprise and retract your hand quickly.

“Good morning! You’re awake?” Kotone beamed, placing her hands behind her back.

“Yes, good morning. Do you need help with preparing breakfast?” You replied, bowing your head politely.

Kotone shook her head. “No, no! It’s already done. Why don’t you wake up Inosuke and join us? We’ll wait for you.”

You nodded, watching her leave the room as her light footsteps grew faint. Once again, your attention shifted over to Inosuke, who stirred slightly in his sleep.

“Inosuke, wake up. Breakfast is ready. If you don’t, I’ll eat everything.”

“Hah?! Yeah, right, woman!” Inosuke shouted, springing up from the bed in a rage. He sped past you, opening the shoji and to the irori.

You almost wanted to snort. Indeed, it was amusing to see him get so riled up over food. It reminded you so much of Hideyoshi and Akane—Akane being another woman you spend your time often, and was older than you by three years. Despite the age difference, the two of you get along with each other quite well.

You miss the village so much—it was shocking to say when you first arrived, you didn’t trust a single person. But now? You were well acquainted with them; but still has trouble socializing with people outside of the village, just like what Shiori had mentioned…

A sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, getting rid of the sad thoughts swirling inside of your mind. You exited your room, closing the shoji behind you and headed to the irori. Just like you had expected, Inosuke was eating as if it were his last meal and the twin women were bickering quietly as they sipped on their green tea.

“Good morning, Kohana.” You greeted, bowing politely beside taking a seat beside Inosuke. She spared a glance, acknowledging your greeting before going back to fighting with her twin.

Indeed, those two were quite peculiar.

Of course, probably not as much as the teen beside you.

“Inosuke, maybe you should try eating with your chopsticks.” You suggested, pointing towards the unused chopsticks laying beside his bowl of rice.

“Huh? I don’t need them! Eating with my hands is faster!” He argued, shoving a bunch of tempura into his mouth.

“…alright, then.” You shrugged, paying no mind to his eating habits anymore. Who are you to tell him how to eat? Although it is improper, you aren’t the type of person to be so forceful unless necessary.

“(Name), aren’t you getting your sword soon?” Kotone spoke up, causing you to snap out of your thoughts.

“Yes. Around noon or later. Why?” You said, bringing the sushi up to your lips.

She waved you off. “Nothing, nothing. I was just wondering. What’s the color of your sword?”

“A mauve-violet.”

She raised a brow. “Oh? Your Breath?”

About to open your mouth to answer her, the familiar, faint sound of wind chimes tinkling entering your ears. You immediately excused yourself, getting up from your spot and towards the front entrance of the Wisteria Household.

“Haganezuka.” You spoke, eyes meeting his mask.

“Katana Breaker.” He growled, stopping in front of you. He raised a finger and flicked your forehead harshly, causing you to hiss out of pain.

“Just give me my sword, please.” You sighed, rubbing the spot where he had flicked you.

“You don’t deserve it.” The man complained, opening the box before he handed over the sheath

“Oh, I know. But I might as well make use of it, no?” You replied, gently taking the sheath from him.

Haganezuka clicked his tongue. He didn’t actually mean it, of course—but you took him seriously. It caught him off guard—yet, in a way, it wasn’t surprising; that’s just how are you are.

You thanked him, bowing out of gratitude before he turned around and left. You looked at the sheath before entering the house once again.

You like Haganezuka—truly, you do, despite his overexessive personality; you admire his passion for swordsmithing, and the amount of hard work and determination he puts in it as well.

His death threats were sort of sad, though. Maybe you could teach him how to threaten others properly.

You stifled a laugh at the thought as you made your way to the to the irori. If Shiori caught you doing that, she’d give you the silent treatment.

“Sorry for suddenly disappearing. My swordsmith came.” You apologized, holding up the sheath to show them that, indeed, Haganezuka had come to give you your sword.

Kotone smiled. “Don’t worry! Do you still want to eat?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s—”

“Caw! Mission in the South! Caw!” Your crow suddenly announced, entering the irori through the window.

You clenched your jaw. Just what was with today, people cutting you off constantly?

“Oh, is that so? Do you have any more details, Kemuri?” You smiled sweetly, grip tightening around the scabbard.

Kemuri let out a stuttering caw before answering. “A house on a mountain where several demons live and devour humans.”

You hummed in response, looking over at Inosuke. “I suppose we should go soon, then. Right, Inosuke?”

The boy merely spared you a glance before continuing to eat.

You grimaced. It was going to be a long day for you, wasn’t it?

∞

“Ah, I think this is the house.” You pointed out, eyes looking over the typical, traditional Japanese house as you approached it.

“I can sense lots of demons in there! I’m going in!” Inosuke declared, steam exiting through the nostrils of his mask before he broke into a sprint towards the house.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted; however, it was too late—he had already entered the house.

“Ugh, fuck. If he dies, it’s not my fault.” You muttered bitterly, jaw clenched as you walked towards the house. However, what caught your attention was two children sitting outside near the bushes, hugging each other and sobbing into one another’s arms.

What the hell?

“Hello…?” You greeted tentatively, standing in front of the younger children.

“Wh-who are yo-you?” The boy stuttered, sniffing as he tried to wipe his tears.

“A demon slayer,” you answered, looking over at them. Clearly, these two were siblings—their faces very much alike, especially their amber colored eyes; they held emotions of fright, anxiety, and concern.

Concern? Hm.

“Are you lost? Separated from someone?” You asked, tilting your head out of curiosity.

“Our br-brother,” the younger girl sniffed, “h-he’s in there. A de-demon took him!”

You nodded. “I see. I’ll try my best to retrieve him. Stay put.”

“Okay.” The boy replied in a small voice, tightening his grip on his sister’s body.

You couldn’t help but let your mind become consumed by negative thoughts; by now, their brother is probably dead. How could he survive in a house full of demons, unless he had some sort of skill or ability?

Though faint, the metallic scent of blood was evident as you neared the entrance of the house; your sense of smell wasn’t the sharpest, but you could still pick up on such things. That sense, however, that was the sharpest was your intuition—it was almost never wrong.

Only once had you been fooled.

You bit the insides of your cheek, closing your eyes and took a deep breath. With that, you opened your eyes, clearing your mind riddled with your disturbing thoughts before you entered the house. Venturing further into the structure, it was made up of multiple rooms and corridors—it reminded you of a maze, almost.

Deciding to not waste any more time, you picked up your speed, dashing through the rooms and hallways. However, at the sound of a beat of a drum, the rooms shifted and turned—you cursed quietly, maintaining your balance as the rooms continued to turn.

It stopped for a moment, now stuck in one of the rooms—it seemed like it was some sort of study, with stacks of books and writing supplies in the shelves. Who exactly lived here before this whole mess?

You opened the shoji, once again sprinting through the halls—you had to find both Inosuke and those kids’ brother. You weren’t too sure about the brother, however; who knows if he is still alive or not. Even so, if he is dead, you would still have to find his body and bury it.

Just as you were about to enter a room, you felt a strong force suddenly knock you out from the side, tackling you into another room. You hissed in pain, you left foot stinging and throbbing; however, you managed to kick the thing that had decided to tackle you from the side.

“Oh~ I knew it! You’re at the age to be eaten. How wonderful!” The demon giggled, crazed obsidian eyes looking at you as drool dribbled down its chin. “You’re injured, too! Now you’re doomed!”

You bit the insides of your cheek, trying to endure the pain of your twisted ankle, not wanting to apply too much pressure upon it.

“Jui~cy girl! I’ve eaten so many of you!” The demon cackled, steadily approached you.

“You’re a fucking waste of space and oxygen. Ugh, how nasty.” You grumbled, thumb pushing out the sword out of the sheath of you gripped the handle.

“How dare you…!” The demon screeched, lunging towards you at a high speed—hands reaching to slice your body.

“Fourth Style: Tides of the Moon.” You mumbled, a stream of waves flowing from the sword as you jumped upwards, cleanly slicing the demon’s neck. You landed on your feet, barely making a sound—however, you winced at the hot, sizzling pain in your ankle, cursing in yourself for your carelessness.

You took out an ointment from one of your thigh pouches, quickly taking off your jika-tabi and dabbing it onto your swollen ankle—the ointment smelling of arnica and chamomile oil. Hopefully, it would ease up the inflammation and pain.

You placed it back in the pouch, rushing to put back on your footwear and stood up carefully on both of your feet. You decided to stay in the room as to not strain your foot too much; however, that was a mistake. Because as soon as you got up, the room shifted—taking you to a new room.

Unfortunately, due to your shitty luck, there was also a demon. Fuck.

The demon looked up, an eerie grin tugging on its lips as its eyes looked over your body.

You felt chills down your spin. How disgusting.

“Hah! Finally! Proper food!” The demon licked it’s lips, his cackles echoing throughout the room. “I don’t have any uses for this now.” He held up a gravely injured boy, carelessly throwing the body out of the window just as the room shifted and turned once again.

You maintained your balance, eyes studying the demon in front of you. Clearly, it wasn’t strong enough to have some sort of Blood Demon Art—it looked like it had only eaten ten or eleven humans so far.

It still angered you, though; how dare he throw that body outside of the window? Though the boy was almost dead, it didn’t mean he had to experience any more pain.

“Eleventh Style: Dance of the Moon.” You closed your eyes, grip tightening on the hilt of your katana as you took controlled breaths, feeling every single fiber of your being growing stronger. Not only did it increase your strength, but your stamina and intuition—as you looked up, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion, your eyes catching every micro-expression and the slightest shift of a muscle on the demon.

The demon makes it look like he’s aiming for my head, when really he wants to slice my stomach. His eyes are also focused on my face, which means he wants to try to slash my eyes before he can prepare his attack.

You dashed towards the demon, swinging your sword in an infinity pattern; with ease, you had sliced the neck of the demon and many parts of its body. However, due to the force of your attack, you crashed through the window, flying out of the house with the body parts of the dead demon under your feet. Thankfully, it managed to break your fall—making you easily land on your feet with little to no pain.

“Oh my God! It’s a monster!” You heard a male voice wail in an high-pitched manner, causing you to look up and blink at the people in front of you.

You swung your sword over your head in a quick, circular motion, cleaning your sword of the demon blood before placing it back in its sheath.

“I know you two.” You spoke up, eyes once again shifting over to the two males in front of you, their eyes lighting up in recognition at the sight of you. “You’re from the Final Selection.”

[thebrotherscupheadandmugman]

Aviary Action! With Wally Warbles!

Before you read: This is a rewriting of the main game Cuphead. Characters, certain dialogue, music, and locations obviously do not belong to me. This is best read with the OST playing over it. 

Before you start reading, I now have a Patreon you can donate to as well if you should want to support where I wish to take this project! Patrons have unique opportunities to help bring this story to life, so please check it out or become a patron if you feel so inclined! Too young or unable to give financial support? That’s perfectly fine! You can also support this project, and my future ones by reblogging these episodes for free! Oh, and here’s a link to all published episodes. Enjoy! 

                                                                                                                                 The brothers flew around, over the mountain and trees in their Aeroplanes, looking for the next debtor. “You sure he's gonna be up here?” Cuphead asked, looking over to his older brother. “That's what Floyd said.” Mugman quickly glanced down at his watch, then back at the skyline. “Just keep your eyes peeled.” “What are we even looking for?!” “Floyd didn't say.” “Swell,” Cuphead grumbled sarcastically.

Suddenly, a loud cuckoo clock chime echoed across the park, causing both the boys to jump and the milk in their heads to spill just a bit. Cuphead and Mugman looked around to find the source, before Cuphead finally pointed to the center of the second isle. A large, red birdhouse with blue wings circled about, above the balloon tree to gather the patrons' attention as it rang. Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! “Think that's the guy?” Cuphead asked.

“Well, they're the only other one up here.” Once the clock was finished announcing the time, it started to fly back towards the side of the mountain, where a few bird nests and a large wooden perch were. “Got the scroll, Mug?” Mugman dug into his pocket and pulled out the list of debtors. The sooner the birdhouse saw it and realized they weren't messing around, the sooner they could get this over with.

As the birdhouse flew back to its perch, it quickly caught sight of our heroes before it could land on it. The door of the clock flew open, and a wooden bird on its own, smaller perch was pushed out. The bird then flew out and landed on the blue Aeroplane, right between the pilot and the propeller. “This here's a restricted area. You two lookin' fer trouble?” “Not...intentionally.” “Hey, I will have you know that we are like a magnet for trouble!” “Cuphead, that's not something to be proud of!” “Keep it down!” The wooden bird snapped before flying atop Mugman's nose in order to look down and read the paper he had. “Statechure business!” “We're here with the Devil's office.” Mugman started, a guilty look plastered to his face. “We've, uh, come for Wally Warbles' Soul Contract.” The wooden bird's eyes suddenly widened, and it flew back into the door of the cuckoo clock, pulling the perch back in and shutting the door behind it.

Not long after that, the door sprang back open. “Cuckoo! No!” The door shut once more, only to spring back open moments later. “Cuckoo! No!” Once again the door shut, only to reopen. “Cuckoo! I don't want to!” The door closed, then opened once more. “Cuckoo! No!!” As the door slammed shut one last time, the orange pendulum stopped swinging, and something stretched out from the face of the clock. The pendulum separated into two legs of a bird, and an orange beak tore out from the clock, freeing the head of a red and blue feathered bird. “Bacaaaaaaaawwww!!” He screeched, glaring at the two, young pilots. “If yer thinkin' I'm goin' down quietly, y'got another thing comin'!!” “Open fire, Mugs!” The brothers promptly began shooting at Wally, although their bullets didn't seem to be doing much.

Something seemed to travel up Wally's throat and after a short while, he closed his eyes and spat out a white egg with blue, green, and red spots. “Hueaeaeahhh!” “Ahh!” The brothers both screamed and scrambled to dodge. “What's th'matter? Don't like my scrambled shots? Hueaeaeahhh!” Wally spat out another egg, “hueaeaeahhh!” Then another. “Cuphead, break!!” Mugman cautioned, maneuvering his Aeroplane out of harm's way. “Why is it every time we get in these planes you want me to break?! I said I was sorry!” The three eggs smashed against the edge of the screen behind the brothers, breaking off into three shells each. “Cuphead, six-o-clock!!” “Ya can't fool me, Mugs! He just chimed for three-ow!!” One of the eggshells hit Cuphead's undercarriage as he spoke, leaving a white cross-shaped mark on the aircraft. “Well, ya can certainly tell which one a ya's th'smart one.” Wally taunted. The cuckoo figured that if the red bogey didn't know aviation terminology, that'd certainly make this easier for him. “Hey!!” Before Cuphead could say anything else, Wally's head morphed to form a giant, white-gloved hand with the thumb pressed over the pinky finger, and the other three fingers pointed at Cuphead and Mugman. “What?” “Get ready to br- dodge!” With the flick of the neck-wrist, the hand fired out three large bullets, one from each finger, and the brothers just barely managed to squeeze through the space between the shots. “Gosh, talk about trigger fingers.” “Nail Birds! Engage blue and red bogeys! Send 'em back to th'taxpayers!”

Four small birds with nails taped to their backs flew onto the scene and headed straight for Cuphead. “Ack! Incoming birdies!” “Focus on Wally! I'll cover you!” Mugman flew in front of Cuphead and began firing at the yellow and pink birds. Upon being hit, each little bird made a squeaky cheep and exploded in a puff of smoke and feathers. “Aauugh, why'd they have to make such a cute noise?! Now I feel bad!” “Ya didn't feel bad before?” Asked Cuphead. “Well, I feel even worse now!!” “Hueaeaeahhh!” Wally spat up another egg towards Cuphead, forcing the child to fly downwards to avoid getting hit. “Engage padlocked bogeys!” Wally commanded once more, four more birds flying towards Mugman. “Mugs, our fire ain't doin' anything!” “Get up close, use your new weapon!” Mug strategized, “I'll give you cover fire, you just watch out for his breakfast!” “Get close, don't get puked on. Got it.” Cuphead gave Mugman a thumbs up, then flew in closer to the feathered debtor. Mugman shifted his focus back onto the incoming birds. “Alright, time to hit the nail on the head!”

With Mugman's cover fire, Cuphead was able to inch in closer to Wally's head, soaring over and under any eggs the cuckoo clock spat out, up until the boy managed to hide right over the top of Wally's head, just outside his field of view. “No joy! I've lost visual, Red Casablanca!” Cuphead switched his weapon, and dropped a mini-bomb right over Wally's noggin. “Yeowch!!”

Inside the birdhouse, a small figure stirred. “Shh, go back to sleep, little one.” The voice of the wooden bird tried. “There's nothing to--” A muffled explosion from outside caused the whole house to tilt and shift, startling the small figure.

Cuphead dropped yet another mini-bomb, hitting Wally right on the beak with it, which caused a few of his teeth to fly out. Then Cuphead dropped another mini-bomb right onto his neck, earning a loud yelp of pain from Wally. “Son of a-” Wally's head morphed into a red factory steam whistle as he cursed. “Twooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!” Out of frustration, Wally began to gobble and flail his wings about, launching out the blue feathers from his body. “Wuh-oh!!” Cuphead saw the incoming feathery bullets and pulled back, trying to fly through the small openings he could find, all while keeping his fire locked onto Wally. However, it didn't take long for Cuphead to become overwhelmed, and a feather scraped against his left wing, causing the Aeroplane to tilt down further than he intended, which resulted in another feather scraping his undercarriage. That was what pushed him up in such a way that allowed for two more feathers to hit his wings, which ultimately pushed him back to the edge of the screen, smashing the young cup between the aircraft and the bordering. “Yeesh. Guess we really ruffled his feathers, huh?” Mugman commented. “Oww!” Cuphead whined as his blue spirit began to drift up towards the clouds. “Hey! Don't you dare leave me here to fight this guy on my own!!” Mugman cried, pulling his straw out from his head. A hand formed at the end of the blue straw to grab Cuphead's pink heart, and Mugman yanked his brother's ghost back down into his body. “'M okay...” The child mumbled woozily. “Shake it off, bro. Just keep a consistent fire, but focus on dodging, don't worry about landing your shots. Okay?” “Yeah?” Cuphead answered after he shook his head rapidly to regain his focus.

It wasn't easy, but the brothers managed to dodge Wally's feathers up until he suddenly stopped to breathe. The bird panted as he caught his breath, and Mugman saw an opening. He released the built-up magical energy from his body, and morphed into a smiling Super Bomb that sailed right for Wally. “Oh nooo!” Wally took in one last deep breath and began flailing about again, launching feathers everywhere. Without so much as an animation for it, the Super Bomb's smile turned into a panicked, anxious frown, Mugman did his best to navigate through the barrage of feather bullets, but he was hit just inches away from Wally, detonating before he intended to. “Son of a gu-- ow!!” A feather grazed Mugman's right shoulder, cuing the preteen to pull back towards his brother. “Well, that didn't go as planned.” “Ya probably....still...” Cuphead trailed off, focusing on dodging whatever was coming his way. Although, Mugman still got the message his brother was trying to get across and started firing again. Cuphead was right. With an explosion that large, Wally still probably got hurt from that.

Once again, Wally found himself needing to stop to take a breather. “Dad? What's goin' on?” A young, sleepy voice asked. Before Wally could answer, Mugman managed to fill enough of his Super Meter to attack with an Ex Move. “Now, Cuphead!” Both the brothers pulled themselves into an aileron roll and fired off one Chomper Missile each, right at Wally. Both the Chomper Missiles smacked Wally square in the chest, causing an explosion of blue and red feathers. The now bald bird gasped in pain before falling out of the birdhouse limply. “Dad, no!!” “Wait, did you hear that?” Mugman asked.

After a few moments, the house fell apart, and a small chick in a nest with four, flapping, wing-like leaves attached to the bottom flew out. “He has a son?!” Mugman shouted. The chick glared at the older cups. “You came fer my dad, huh?! Well, you can't take 'im! He's mine!!” “Calm down, kid! We ain't here ta fightchya!” “R-right! We don't want to hurt you, alright? We just need Wally Warbles.” “Well guess what? My name's Wally Warbles Jr.! So if ya wanna take Dad away, ya gotta go trew me!!” “More like Weirdo Warbles,” Cuphead mumbled to his brother. Junior tried to whistle, but he couldn't do it, so he just shrieked instead. “Ommulon Orbiters! Activate!” Suddenly, five spiked eggs circled out from behind his back, surrounding the chick defensively. “Do yer worst!!” “Look, kid, we don't wanna hurt ya! Now scram before-” “Ya misunderstand. My dad's the brawn and I'm all brains! Together, we bring the pain. Hee hee hee hee!” Junior cackled. “Are you serious?! We have to fight a little kid?!” “He ain't givin' us much of a choice, Mugsy.”

Junior flew towards Mugman and watched in amusement as his invention expanded in a perfect, circular formation, which would surely corner those ugly mugs! “Cuphead, watch out!!” Cuphead flew over one of the eggs, finding himself between it and Wally Jr. Although it might have been a perfect opportunity to strike Cuphead, Junior had already cornered Mugman between the bottom left corner of the screen, and one of the spiked eggs. The young chick grinned maniacally and watched as his attack continued to expand outwards towards the blue Aeroplane. “Oh no!!” Mugman had literally backed himself into a corner, with little to no room to escape. “Mugman!!” The mug tensed up, bracing for impact when he suddenly felt himself shrink down. Suddenly, there was a small opening for Mugs to fly through, and the teeny pilot was quick to squeeze through the gap between an egg and the bottom of the screen. “Curses!!” Junior scowled. However, now that Mugman's form was smaller, he happened to be  more aerodynamic and moved much faster than he expected, so he crashed into a second egg before him. Mugman gasped in pain from the force of the impact and in a puff of smoke, the child grew back to normal size, just as the eggs started contracting towards the ceramic duo. “Ahh! Not good!” “I'll show ya fer hurtin' my brother like that!!” As Mugman scrambled to dodge, Cuphead began firing, not realizing the spiked eggs were drawing ever-closer to his plane. “Ouch! Stop dat! Meanies!!” Junior whined. “Cuphead, get outta there!!” “Huh?!” The cup looked back towards Mugman and finally noticed the eggs slowly surrounding him. “How do ya shrink?!” “I-I dunno, just move!!” Cuphead pulled his Aeroplane into a nose-dive as he spun into a sort of corkscrew, just narrowly avoiding a crushing disaster. “Whew!” Cuphead pulled up beside his brother, and firmly pressed the button down on the plane's stick, firing at the fledgling. “Mug, just shoot!!” “R-right!” Mugman followed suit, trying to quickly come up with some sort of plan to take this little fella down without actually hurting him.

“I betchyoo two think yer so smart, eh? Well, guess what? I'm smartah!” Junior pulled out some sort of raygun from inside his small nest and wasted no time in taking his aim and firing with a small giggle. Cuphead was quick to react and flew up and over Junior's shield of spiky eggs, finding himself past the chick. “Ah!!” Mugman did his best to dodge as Cuphead had, but when pulling up, he'd accidentally tilted his right wing up first, rather than pulling the whole plane up at once, and a pink electrical bullet severely damaged the lower wing, bending and tearing the metal in the sky. “No no no no!!” “Gotchya right where I wantchya!” Junior drew closer to Mugman, expanding the eggs out to try and hit him while he was weak. “Mugman, no!!” Cuphead quickly sped around and angled himself between Junior and his older brother, shooting the chick relentlessly to try and protect Mugman. “Ow! Stop it! Ouch!!” Junior whined, the bullets pushing him back just a little with each hit. Mugman grabbed some tape and stood up in his cockpit, after straightening out his aircraft. “Keep him busy! I'll make some repairs!” “Got it!!” Cuphead nodded. “Hey, bird brain!! Where'djya get that toy?! The dump?!” “Yes! And I'll have you know that I made it from broken radio parts and a toaster!! And a buncha other smart thingies an imbecile like you would never understand!!” “Hah! Joke's on you! I don't even know what that means!” “My point exactly!!”

Mugman tied some rope around his waist for safety and then wrapped some tape around his straw and the control stick, leaving quite a bit of room for leeway. He slowly and carefully inched out across the wing of his Aeroplane, until he was close enough to the damaged area. Mugman got on his knees and pushed the bent metal down back to its original place. He taped the two pieces together and pressed the line of tape across the damaged crack before letting go of the roll, watching it fly across the rest of the wing. The tape swung down across the underside of the wing, until Mugman caught it in his left hand, then raveled several more layers of tape across his wing by repeating this process. “Mugman, incoming!!” Cuphead's voice warned, just as Mug tore off the tape from the roll, Mugman looked up to see yet another pink bullet soaring right towards him. Mugman quickly dropped the tape roll and held on to the wing as tight as he possibly could as he pulled his straw out from his head, and yanked. The tension he created in the line was enough to pull his plane to the right, and just out of harm's way.

As his Aeroplane stabilized, Mugman heaved a sigh of relief before quickly crawling back to the cockpit, and removing the tape from his straw and steering. “Thanks, Cup!” “No, no, no!! This isn't fair!!” The child threw a temper-tantrum and pulled out his raygun once again, but before he could fire it, Mugman skillfully shot the pistol right out of the chick's hand, causing him to drop it out of the sky, and breaking the invention upon impact to the ground. “My invention!!” Cuphead began to relentlessly shoot at Junior once more, until the youngster threw down his arms and began wailing, creating raindrops of tears. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaahh!! Waaaaaaaahh! Daaaddyyy, these kids are meeeaaaann!!”

The boys looked at each other. “What good's zat gonna do 'im?” Cuphead asked. “We already knocked Wally out.” Mugman glanced at the ground below. “Now we just gotta find him and get his contract.” Cuphead then noticed something, and his eyes widened in surprise as three drops of milk splashed from his head. “Uh, Mug?!” Mugman looked back in front of them, only to catch sight of Wally on a stretcher being carried up by two, blue, medic birds. Wally was bald, his wounds had been wrapped up in white gauze, he had two black eyes, one of which was swollen shut completely, and he was noticeably missing a tooth. “Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhaaat?!” Mugman yelped in surprise. “Mister, stop! Yer gonna hurt yerself even more!!” “After ya made m'son cry?! No way!!” Wally growled. “I've worked hard t'keep m'family in tact after th'mistakes I've made! I won't let ya dirty dishes take it all away from me! I won't letchya take it all away from Junior!” “L-look, Mr. Warbles! W-we're sorry, b-but we have no choice!” “Please, just give us yer contract! It ain't like ya got any feathers left ta lose!” The brothers pleaded. “Even without my feathers, you're in for stormy weather!” The feather father, or rather the featherless father, growled, then looked to the only medic he could. “Lefty! Righty! Engage!” Wally hissed out a groan of pain under his breath, and the medic bird at Wally's feet regurgitated a blue and yellow pill capsule into the air. “Does the fighting ever end?!” Mugman brought his plane up to get a better angle to hit Wally with, but just before he could start firing again, the capsule broke apart, and the yellow cap suddenly shot right towards Mug. “Woah!!” Mugman barely managed to pull his Aeroplane down just a tad to gain enough speed in time to dodge the pill. Before the older mug could get the chance to heave a sigh of relief however, Wally suddenly kicked his legs into his own chest. “Pihoo!!” Wally's beak forced itself open as his pupils turned into black X-es and something traveled from his chest, and up his throat. A large red heart pushed its way past Wally's tongue, and out his beak, grinning slyly at the dish pilots as it rose to the air. Cuphead didn't at all hesitate to take his aim at the heart, and start firing. “Mugman, snap outta it!!” Mug shook his head at that. “Right!” Mugman started to fire at Wally, but it didn't seem to be doing anything at all! The red heart suddenly spat out three black bullets at Cuphead and Mugman, then slowly floated back down into Wally's mouth, where Wally immediately swallowed his organ. Mugman was forced to pull his plane back to avoid one of the bullets, as he watched Cuphead steer his red Aeroplane between two of the shots. “Righty! I said engage! Now!!” The blue bird by Wally's head spat out a pill, just as his partner had, and once again, the capsule broke apart and soared towards Cuphead, who pulled into a large barrel roll to dodge. Mugman suddenly got an idea. If one of those medics go down, they'd drop Wally too! Mugman sped his aircraft above Wally's head and switched his weapon. “Here! Have a taste of your own medicine!” Mugman tried to drop a mini-bomb onto Righty, but he had just barely missed, and the bomb dropped to the left of him. Mugman found himself flooded with relief, as he had realized a fall from this height would potentially kill Wally. “Ya think you little cheap chinaware children can just come inta my sky and beat up my boy?! You two got another thin' comin', you puny, tiny, pale little--” Wally's head suddenly morphed into a trashcan as he spoke, sending a pink boot flying towards Mugman. “Ah!!” Mug quickly pulled back, just as the boot soared high in the sky, and Wally spat out rotting fish-bones that rocketed just as high. As gravity pulled the boot down, it just so happened to land onto Mugman's propeller, spinning around and around until it launched into the air for a second time, right as Wally spat out a black boot, and an apple core. Mugman was forced to pull back into a Split S maneuver, twisting and looping his aircraft behind Cuphead to avoid getting hit. As high as the garbage was launched, it seemed to fall just short of hitting the brothers. “You stink!!” Cuphead taunted. “That's the garbage, Cuphead.” Mugman informed, pinching his nose at the smell. “Move closer!!” Wally commanded, and the medics flew his stretcher closer to Cuphead and Mugman. Cuphead switched over to the mini-bombs and began dropping as many as he could onto Wally. The father began to spit out more trash again as he edged closer to the two. Mugman soon realized that he'd collide into Lefty if he didn't move, so he let his plane drop down, only to realize what a mistake that was.

As Mugman tried to move his Aeroplane back to get above Wally, he tapped the edge of the screen, leaving him trapped in the bottom corner. “Huh?! What?! Wait! Th-this isn't fair, I can't move! There's nowhere to go, the projector screen ends!!” The trash quickly began its descent, right towards Mugman. “Just keep shooting at him!” “I literally can't! There's nowhere for me to shoot!” “Shoot his butt!” Mugman sighed but switched his weapon. “Classy. Ah!!” Mugman moved his plane horizontally, one way, then the other, trying to dodge the rainfall of boots, apple cores, and fish-bones, but once there was a break in the garbage, he began firing once again. “Back away from my brother!” Cuphead threatened, dropping more and more bombs onto Wally. “I'd rather have a heart attack and die!!” Cuphead noticed how Wally shifted his legs and zoomed over to his beak just as he kicked his chest once more. Just as his heart was about to ascend from his mouth, Cuphead dropped one last mini-bomb that conked the heart right on the top, stretching the two curves apart and causing it to fall back down into Wally's mouth, just as the bomb detonated.

Wally's head fell limply to the side as his eyes rolled around and around dizzily, moaning just a bit as his whole world rotated ceaselessly. Lefty and Righty grinned and licked their beaks as they ripped off their medic hats, revealing chef hats underneath. They each grabbed the stretcher with their feet and pulled out a salt and pepper shaker, seasoning Wally. “Finally, we got him!” Lefty smirked, licking his beak again. “Huh?!” “We've been after this juicy slice of poultry for years! He'll sell for a fortune once we prepare him!” Righty explained. “Couldn't have done it without ya kiddos!” “Here!” Righty reached into Wally's beak and pulled out his Soul Contract, before wadding it up into a paper ball, and throwing it at Cuphead, hitting him right in the face. “Ack!” “That's what you were after, right?” Cuphead unraveled the wad and checked over the contract to see if it had been forged or not. “Mm-hmm?” He nodded upon confirming the legitimacy. “Take it. Consider it as thanks fer helpin' us find the dinner of the century!” Lefty thanked. “Let's go, we should prepare the oven!” The two birds quickly flew away, landing near the rainbow bridge, freeing Mugman. “They're gonna cook him?!” Mugman gasped in fear. “I think?!” “Wait, stop!!” Mugman rushed to the ground below and frantically landed his Aeroplane, Cuphead following suit.

The brothers chased after the two birds as they attempted to drag the large bird away somewhere. “Stop, don't! What are you doing?!” Mugman cried. “He has a son he's gotta look after!” “What's any of that matter to you?” Lefty asked, tilting his head. “Yeah, ya got his Soul Contract already. What difference does it make if he lives or dies now?” “Yeah!” “And just what do you mean by that?!” Mugman inquired, equal parts worried and insulted. “Yer workin' with the Devil's Office, right?” Righty asked. “Well once you give the Devil his contract, he's as good as dead. His soul will be dragged down to Hell regardless. What difference does it make if he's already dead when that happens?” “Yeah! He's already as good as dead! What's it matter if he dies now or later? At least this way someone will get some sort of benefit from 'im!” “That doesn't matter!!” Mugman shook his head. “All life is precious! It should be protected!” “He's already lived a good life kid.” “So?! All life is precious nonetheless! Age and race doesn't matter!!” “Look, fink!” Righty snapped, “the guy sold his soul to the Devil himself! And that's just what we know about! Who knows what other crimes were committed before any of that! He may be a good father, but that don't mean he was a good person! He sealed his fate ages ago!” “That! Doesn't! Matter!!” Mugman spat back. “All life is precious!” “Just because he made some bad decisions, or maybe did some bad things, doesn't mean he deserves to die for them!!” “Yeah!” “How do ya figure?” Righty asked. “Because! How could he ever change for the better if you end his life?! How could he ever become a good person if you never give him that chance?!” “Well, it doesn't matter now, brats!” Lefty yelled. “He's going to die anyway! What's it matter if it's by your hand, or by ours?!” That seemed to make Mugs lose his nerve. “W-we're not...” “Yes, you are! You're the ones giving his Soul Contract to the Devil himself! You are the ones responsible for that much!” “He...He at least deserves to say goodbye to his loved ones!” Cuphead tried. “Too bad for him! We've been after his hide for years, and we ain't going ta let this golden opportunity slip by!” Righty grinned. “Now then, let's go, partner!” Just as the birds began crossing the bridge, a pink boot whistled as it fell from the sky. Mugman was about to chase after the birds, but Cuphead quickly noticed the whistling, and grabbed his brother's right shoulder to stop him. The boot suddenly clocked Righty right in the head, causing the bird to lose balance and stumble off the rainbow bridge, and right into the shallow waters of Sweetheart's Stream with a shocked yelp. “Woah, woah, hold up, don't panic, I'll getchya out!!” Lefty quickly flew off the bridge and above the stream to help his partner.

The brothers didn't hesitate to rush to both sides of the stretcher, and pull Wally back to the tree by the wooden perch, only to be met with a crying Junior. “D-Dad?!” As soon as the chick caught sight of his father, he pushed his tiny legs through the bottom of his nest and ran over. “Y-yer alive, I-I thought they took you!!” “They tried to.” Mugman informed setting the bird down by the tree trunk. “We just got lucky.” “Y-you saved him!” “He looks bad, Mug.” “I know.” Mugman bit his lip, then turned to Junior. “Do you have a telephone?” Junior stared Mugman right in the eyes and pulled a telephone out from his nest. “Tell the operator you need to take him to the hospital, and give them your address. Okay?” Mugman instructed. Junior nodded and picked up the phone. The mug turned to face Cuphead. “We need to go.” “What? Mugs, shouldn't we stay with--” “Under normal circumstances, we would, but right now, we can't afford to.” Cuphead nodded somberly and joined his brother as the two began walking away. “W-wait, where are you going now?!” Mugman turned his head slightly to look back at the fledgling. “We're going to collect the Soul Contract of Grim Matchstick.” Junior's eyes widened at that. “Grim's a debtor?” His attention was suddenly taken by the phone against his ear. “Ah, y-yes, operator?!” Mugman sighed as Junior talked on the phone. He truly felt bad about leaving this kid all by himself when those two were still so close by. The most they could do is provide a distraction of some sort for Junior, to lead them away, but that was about it. As the brothers started to walk away once again, Junior stopped them. “Hey, w-wait.” Cuphead and Mugman turned around. “U-um, I-I know I p-probably shouldn't do this, b-but you saved Dad, s-so...” Junior felt bad for doing this, but he had to do something for them in return, right? “G-Grim is the security dragon.” “D-dragon?!” Mugman jumped at that. “Yeah. You'll find him in the security castle. Butchya gotta cross both the rainbow bridges to get to it, and the sprinklers fer the second one tend to not work right.” “Okay.” Cuphead nodded. “Thanks, pal.” “You stay with your dad until help arrives. Okay?” “Right.” Junior nodded, hugging his dad's neck as the cup kids ran off.

As the brothers ran past the two birds again, it was evident that Lefty had fished Righty out of the stream, and would probably start searching for Wally soon. Mugman continued to run across the rainbow as he suddenly fired at Righty, causing Lefty to drop the soaked bird back into the water with a splash. “Mug, what are ya doin'?” Cuphead whispered, stopping. “Sh. Just follow my lead,” Mugman whispered back. “Hey! Over here, you two twitty birds!” He taunted. “Catch us if ya can, bird brains!” “Pbthphfhpfhphbphfbpbpt!” With that, the boys ran off once again. “Why you little--!!” Lefty quickly fished Righty back out again, set him on the bridge, then began his pursuit of the brothers.

As the two birds flew past the Mausoleum, our heroes hid inside, knowing that they had successfully tricked the two. “Whew.” Mugman breathed. “Think the coast is clear?” Asked Cuphead. “Not sure.” Mugman shook. “Let's wait a few--” Something behind them suddenly collapsed forward, causing Mugman to jump and nearly run out of the building in fear, but Cuphead outstretched his arm to stop him. “Mugman, relax! Somethin' just got knocked over! Besides, if you go out there, they might spot you!” “R-r-right.” Mugman nodded, horribly shaking as he glanced behind himself to try and find out what fell, but since he hadn't known what the area behind them looked like, that wasn't quite possible. “Relax, we're not goin' in any farther than this.” Cuphead tried, holding his brother's arms to try and comfort him. Cuphead looked his brother right in the eyes until something behind Mugman caught his attention. Something that Cuphead really hoped that his brother wouldn't notice. “R-r-right. Y-you're right.” Mugman nodded, oblivious to the large spider behind him. “W-we'll just w-wait a few minutes, th-then we'll be on our way.” Cuphead wasn't at all listening to what his brother was saying, he was too busy watching the spider slowly creep down towards Mugman. He knew he had to calmly lead Mugs away before he noticed since Mugman had always been terrified of spiders. Cuphead gently pulled Mugman closer to him, and away from the wall, hoping his brother wouldn't notice, but unfortunately, Cup's facial expression alone was enough to tip his brother off. “C-Cups? What's wrong?” Mugman started to turn his head. “D-don't look!” Cuphead stopped. “U-uhh, there's nothing there, I swear! Uh, uhhh, I-I'm just messin' with ya! Hah hah hah hah hah!” He laughed nervously. “You're actin' strange. C-cut that out, it's already creepy enough in here!” Cuphead suddenly noticed that the large spider wasn't alone. Another spider, about the size of a small coin, descended from its web above, hovering all too close to Mugman's left shoulder. There was nothing Cuphead could have said to try and hide it without risking Mugman taking a glance, and he knew it. “Okay, fine...Just whatever you do, don't look to yer left.” Cuphead warned, still trying to pull Mugman away as he crept closer to try and knock the spider away. Of course, Mugman began to sweat at his brother's words. “W-w-w-w-why?” His body began to clink as he shook, slowly turning his head to see what his brother was talking about. Cuphead immediately realized it would have been better to keep his mouth shut.

The second Mug saw the arachnid, the child screeched, and scrambled to get away, but as he turned to make his escape, he caught sight of the larger one that had been less than inches away from his head. Mugman let out a shrill shriek in fear and tried to flee out the Mausoleum's entrance, but three more spiders suddenly dropped down to block him in. Mugman skidded to a stop, falling back on his rear end before frantically climbing to his feet and running deeper into the tomb. “Mugs! Mugman, wait!” Cuphead called, but it was no use. Mugman was in a blind panic now.

After fleeing for what felt like hours to Mugman, he eventually stopped to catch his breath, resting a hand on the wall. The boy looked back behind him, only now realizing he'd left Cuphead behind.  “C-C-Cuphead?” He called, one of his fingers finding something to move. He looked back only to find he'd accidentally pushed a skull and reeled back in fear. “C-C-C-Cuphead, w-w-w-where are you?!” He really messed up this time. “Help!” A voice called. It wasn't Cuphead's, but the voice sure sounded familiar. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded like the cries had been coming from below the staircase around the corner. Against his better judgment, Mugman cautiously took a step closer towards the sound of the voice, until he suddenly found himself at the bottom of the steps. Light from the stain-glassed windows filtered in over a stone urn set on an altar. “S-someone please, save me!” “M-Ms. Chalice?!” Mugman recognized. “Oh! Goodness, me, Mugman, is that you?! Oh, please help! I've been trapped again, open the urn, quickly!” Mugman nodded, and rushed over, jumping atop the altar to try and pry the urn open before the ghosts came out, but it was too late.

Organs filled the air, and ghosts began to moan and groan.  “Ladies and gentlemugs! Get yourselves ready for yet another spooktacular performance from the Specter Syndicate! Boo ha ha ha ha!” Mugman tried to yank the lid off, but it seemed it hadn't planned on budging. Mugman knew there was no way to pull it off before another specter would reach Ms. Chalice. Despite his fear, Mugman lunged forward at a pink ghost with a blue hat, the end of his straw closed up to form a white-gloved hand, and he parried the spook away. Mugman turned around to try and take another crack at opening the urn, but he spotted another spirit from above, going 'woooo' as he glided towards the altar. The mug rushed over and quickly parried that ghost as well, catching sight of yet another hat-wearing specter just below him, and just barely managed to parry-slap him. Mugman soon caught sight of yet another spirit that looked certainly disgruntled and attempted to block his path by spreading out his arms. “N-now just wait a minute! What exactly are you trying to do? W-what will this accomplish?!” The ghost grunted in annoyance, and passed right through Mugman's body. “Ah!” The preteen gasped, turning around and jumping up to parry the spook once again. If this kept up, there was no way Mugman would ever get an opportunity to free Ms. Chalice! “C-Cuphead! W-where are you?! Ah!!” The mug quickly ran up, jumped on top of the altar once more, then jumped across the room as he tried to parry two more spooks, only to miss one. “No, no, no!!” Mugman quickly stood and rushed over to parry the grumpy ghost he missed, heaving a sigh of relief as it disappeared. That was far too close. “Cuphead, i-if you can hear me, p-please hurry!” Mugman quickly tried to parry-slap another specter, but once again, he missed the first time. “I-I need help! I-I need your backup r-right now!” Mugman gasped, rushing to the other end of the room in order to parry another hat-wearing ghost. The boy knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer, but as long as he kept calling for help, Cuphead would eventually find him. “Cuphead! I-if you can hear me, f-follow my voice!!” Mugman heard something behind him, and quickly turned around to find yet another specter reaching out for the stone urn. “No! Stay away from that!!” Mugman lunged at the other, just barely managing to parry the spook away. “Wheeeeee!! Wheeeeeeeeee!! Hee hee hee hee!” The voice of a little girl giggled. Mugman's head followed the spiral patterns the ghost with a bow was making as she danced and twirled about. Mugman jumped at her, but missed the slap, so he waited for his second chance only to miss that as well. As the spook spiraled around and around, and ever-closer to the urn, Mugman grew more and more panicked, especially upon noticing another spirit trying to sneak past him. If he missed her again, she'd reach Ms. Chalice. “Cuphead, please hurry!!” Mugman rushed over to the dancing spook, and successfully managed to parry-slap her, then jumped over to the other ghost and slapped him.

The mug tried to take a moment to catch his breath, but it would seem the Specter Syndicate wouldn't let him have that. Another hat-wearing ghost shimmied down from the top left corner of the room and edged closer to the altar. “Cuphead, please hurry. I can't take much more of this.” Mugs tried to shout, running up to the spirit and slapping him with his straw. Mugman fell to his knees, still somewhat tired from running earlier. Mugman absolutely needed to catch his breath, but he could still hear two other ghosts moving behind him. The child forced himself to get up, and jump over to slap the first one, only to miss the second, and fall to the ground. “No!” Mugman got back to his feet again, but he knew he couldn't make  it to the altar in time. Ms. Chalice was a goner! “Hyiat!” From seemingly nowhere, Cuphead parry-slapped the grumpy ghost, just inches away from the stone vase. “Cuphead!” “I'll get this thing open, you keep 'em off me!!” “Got it!” Mugman nodded, feeling more than ready now that his brother was here.

Two more female specters danced and twirled around the room, and while Mugman got the first one, Cuphead was able to parry the other that he missed. Mugman saw another disgruntled-looking spook above him, and jumped up to successfully parry-slap him as well. Meanwhile, Cuphead tugged, yanked, and pulled on the lid, but with very little progress to show for it. Mugman quickly ran across the room to parry another ghost wearing a hat, only to catch two more female specters on opposite sides of the room. “Cuphead, get that one!!” Cuphead looked up to see the two spooks circling around the altar, and just as Mugman slapped one, he parried the other. “Mugs, I've almost got it, just a little more!!” Mugman nodded, then rushed over to the other end of the room to take out another spirit. Cuphead yanked until his grip slipped. Two more ghosts appeared and Mugman jumped, consecutively parrying them both. “Woah, I-I did it!” “Don't celebrate too soon!” Cuphead gave several more harsh tugs on the lid, just as another female spook twirled around the room, and the second she was close enough to Mugman, he parry-slapped her, just as the lid finally came flying off.

“Victory!!” Ms. Chalice cried, floating out from her stone prison as a twinkling spectral orb, before taking her normal form as a ghostly grail. “Not to mention I managed to find it!” “Ms. Chalice, what are you doing in another mausoleum again?” Mugman asked. “Oh, well, ehehehe.” The benevolent soul scratched the back of her metal head nervously, rather embarrassed by her mistake. “I knew if I rooted around here I could find something special for you! But I didn't know I'd get trapped again!” “Ah, we all make mistakes.” Cuphead waved. “Thanks for saving me a second time. Here!” Ms. Chalice flicked two coins at the brothers, both of which appeared to be exactly the same as the first two coins the Legendary Chalice gave them, only slightly more or less eroded than the other, and with an 'II,' which Mugman realized must have been the Roman Numeral two. “Take this magical Super Art and I'll see if I can find you another!” “Golly! Another? What does this one do?” Cuphead asked eagerly. “This one enhances the connection between the body and soul, allowing you to cross the astral plane to become invulnerable for a short time.” “Good golly gosh!!” The brothers breathed. “Invincibility! That's so incredibly useful! It's sure to come in handy!” Mugman beamed. “Thank you, Ms. Chalice!!” “Consider this a token of appreciation for saving me again! And may we meet again.” Ms. Chalice bowed, before fading away.

“Golly, that worked out better than we thought!” Cuphead smiled. “Speaking of, we should probably shake a leg, those birds are probably gone now.” “Oh, right!” Suddenly, a mischievous spook poked his head out from the wall, and pushed three skulls onto the ground, the sound alone enough to force another shriek out from Mugman. “Eek!! L-let's get outta here!!” Mugman cried, latching onto his brother's wrist as he fled out from the door on the right.

                                                                                                                               Missed the past episodes? Want to check for the next one? Here’s a link to the list of episodes currently published!

[sauveteen]

Burned Out | s.m

hey!! i was talking to my friends about breakups & relationships just...ending, and i think a lot of people don't realise that not every break up is dramatic & loud & has lots of crying. sometimes its numbing and shitty because it takes a while for people to absorb what's happened, and that's an important thing that we often forget. so here's a blurb about that, and i hope my shitty ass past tense doesn't make you click off lmao!

warning: cursing, 2k of angst

You'd be a fool if you said that you hadn't noticed how different Shawn had been acting. At first it was gradual; he would take a little longer than usual to reply to your texts, maybe miss a call or two. Forget your plans to hang out, and reschedule when he did remember. He would talk lesser and lesser every time you met, eyes obviously avoiding yours, the tiniest hints of guilt on your face. But he was Shawn, and he was honest, so you didn't think much into it. Maybe you should've — maybe it would've hurt less that way. But you kept telling yourself, hey, Shawn would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't he?

You think the final blow came when you were sat at your house, your back pressed against his side and his arm shrugged over your shoulder. You were both engrossed in the Disney movie that was playing in the screen (Moana, you're pretty sure), and scarfing your favourite Chinese dishes. You knew you should've asked Shawn about his odd behaviour and confronted him about the fact that he'd been all but dodging you for weeks, now, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Not when he'd finally shown up in all his red faced and curly haired glory, donning his signature pink hoodie and skinny jeans. All the frustration you'd pent up, ready to pour out onto him, had immediately melted away the moment he took you into his embrace.

It was only after he'd placed his box of noodles back onto the table that you realised how he hadn't offered you his manchurian balls. He hated them almost as much as you loved them, and it had become a sort of a routine — where he would pick his out and feed them to you, your eyes not diverting from the screen for even a second. The habit was almost as natural as kissing him when you saw him or him rubbing your thighs whenever he sat next to you. Almost as natural as loving him.

You knew you couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer. Or, in this case, the forgotten manchurian balls in his box of Chinese.

"Shawn?" You questioned, tilting your face up to look at him, "Is something wrong, bubba? You seem....," You trailed off, not knowing what to say, "Uh, a bit off? Are you feeling alright?"

It was almost comical how fast all the colour drained from Shawn's face. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nodded at you, "Uh, s'all good babe."

You weren't convinced, and he could probably tell. However, it wasn't like you to push someone when they weren't up for a discussion, so you let it slide. Again. After dumping the boxes in the trash, you returned to see Shawn pacing up and down your living room, head bowed. You knew him enough to know how that was a nervous habit of his, a tell of an incoming anxiety attack. But he said it was good, and he was with you, so what had gone wrong?

"Shawn, hey," You gripped his arm to steady him, his wild eyes immediately flying up to meet your concerned ones, "Are you sure you're good? Did something—"

"No," Shawn's cold reply cut your question in half, and your eyes widened in surprise as he continued, "No, I'm not good. Haven't been good, actually. Thought you would've noticed?"

"I—uh," You blinked, stepping away from him, "I did."

"And?"

"And?"

"It didn't bother you?"

"Shawn..," You could tell he was getting agitated, and that's not what you wanted. At all. "It did bother me, but I wanted to give you your space. You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Something is wrong," His voice sounded exhausted, like he was straining to get his words out, "And I— God, I've been trying to tell you for so long and I just... I pussy out every fucking time, and it's eating me up on the inside."

You could feel your heartbeat pick up with every word that he uttered, stomach tying into knots in anticipation. What could've possibly gotten him so worried and exasperated? Did it have something to do with his health? With you? Even worse, did it have something to do about the two of you?

Him calling your name snapped you out of your daze, and he continued, "You want me to be honest, right? No holding back, no lies?"

"Always."

"I— I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what anymore, Shawn?"

"This," he pointed between the two of you, helpless eyes brimming with unshed tears, "Us."

You felt your heart plummet. That one word had your entire body shaking in a matter of seconds, your mouth drying out when you tried to speak. Stuttering, you repeated, "U-Us?"

"I've tried... to continue. To pretend like nothing's changed— but I can't anymore. I'm lying to myself, and I don't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You wanted to yell at him, tell him how he didn't know what you deserved, but you found yourself meekly nodding in agreement as he continued, "And— and, haven't you felt different too? Like we've drifted apart. Like our I love yous don't mean the same anymore."

You wanted to tell him that you hadn't. That your I love you had meant the same thing since you first blurted it out one fall morning with leaves in his hair and his hoodie around your shoulders. That even when he was continents away, you never felt the distance between you two for even a second. What you said instead was everything but.

"Y—yeah. I guess."

"It's just—," Shawn tugged at his hair, plopping down on your couch, "Fuck— I still love you. I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, but I don't—"

When you gulped, it was like you were trying to swallow hot nails, "You don't have to explain yourself, Shawn. It's okay."

"It's not fucking okay. It isn't. I don't know why I feel this way, and— and God, you're fucking perfect," He manages a weak chuckle, dropping his head into his hands, "You're literally my dream girl. I know that it's me, and not because I want to let you down easy... but because what else could it be? I've tried to understand and.. it just—"

"Shawn, hey," You were kneeling in front of him now, scooting between his parted legs to be able to look at him better. His face was bowed, hidden from sight, and you nudged his hands away from his face to take it into yours. Softly brushing his curls away from his face so you could see his eyes, you began, "It's okay, baby. Breathe. We'll be okay, come on—," You placed his palm on your chest, urging him to look at you, "Breathe with me."

Shawn took a minute to match his breathing with yours, eventually calming himself down as he followed your exaggerated breaths. You ran your arms over his arms, and he eased up because he knew the drill. Breathe, relax. Breathe, relax. You'd been here a time too many, since Shawn was a generally anxious person who cared too much.

As you waited for him to completely even out his breaths, you found yourself struggling to breathe. Regardless of what Shawn had said or what he was going to say, it didn't change the fact that your demise would be the same. The feeling of being left, just the anticipation made you feel like you'd been punched in the throat. You could feel your eyes watering, but you couldn't cry in front of Shawn. You knew him well enough to know that that would completely push him over the edge.

"How long have you felt this way?"

Shawn gulped audibly, blinking his tears away, "Uh— I don't know, honestly. It's just... it's just different, you know?"

All you could manage in reply was a soft hum, your hands limply falling to your sides. The more he talked, the harder it got to breathe, "I guess, when I returned from the festival circuit— it's like something snapped. I told you I got back on the seventh when I actually got back on the fifth, because I didn't know how to face you. I couldn't."

The seventh of November. The same day you'd finally managed to scrape enough to pay for the ring that you had designed almost a year back. The ring you couldn't wait to give Shawn, asking him Hey, it'd be cool if we spent the rest of our lives together, right? but you couldn't gather the courage to go down one knee and just do it. Now you're here, on your knees, breaking at the thought of the ring never seeing the light of the day. Ironic, isn't it — how Shawn was braving himself to break up with you while you prepped to ask him to marry you? When you were studying phrases in middle school, you had never known that 'not being on the same page' would've described your life so perfectly.

"I'm sorry," Shawn muttered, his earnest eyes covered by a sheen of tears, "I'm so fucking sorry, babe."

"No," You adamantly shook your head, wiping at his face with your thumbs, "How many times do I have to tell you, Shawn? You don't apologise for your feelings."

"It's just that I'm Canadian..."

You managed a weak smile at his attempt to joke, but the both of you knew that that was no time to be joking. What surprised you the most was the fact that nothing led up to that. Nothing prepared you for that. You hadn't fought, hadn't disagreed on anything, hadn't had even let the biggest to things cause a wedge between your relationship.

"I feel so fucking shitty right now. I never knew I was capable of being this sad. I'm a terrible person, aren't I? Do you feel like slapping me? I think you should—"

"A terrible person would've broken up with me over text. A terrible person—," you gulped, trying to find the words to continue, "Wouldn't have worried about how I would feel. You're not a terrible person, Shawn, you're the kindest, most loving man I know. And even the kindest and loveliest of men have the right to fall out of love."

"I haven't fell out of love," His reply was almost instantaneous, and in that moment, you hated him. You hated him, not because he was breaking up with you, but because he was making it that much worse. He claimed you were perfect. Said he was still in love with you. Then why was he so adamant on leaving you? "You're impossible not to love. You're so... you're so you," His hands are holding your face now, and you've never wanted to run away faster, "And I'm going to miss kissing you. And... other things. I fell too fast, and— and I burnt out faster."

"Shawn," Your voice was barely above a whisper as you pleaded, "Please, stop. It's okay. I— please, you.. I'm good."

"You were the best friend I've ever had."

Best friend — not girlfriend, not lover, not partner. You didn't know what to think of it, but there were more pressing matters on hand, and honestly, you didn't think it mattered. Whatever you were, you weren't anymore. You'd just be a distant memory in a year or two, a song on his album, a topic for his fans to discuss on social media. God, you'd never felt so insignificant.

"Thank you, Shawn."

"I love you."

You got up so fast you think you jerked your knee, but you were numb then. Turning your head away from him, you muttered, "The movie's almost over. Uh, I think you should leave."

Your request sounded like a plea for him to leave you for the night, but the both of you knew it ran deeper than that. You wanted to still be friends, but you weren't sure if you had absorbed the fact that Shawn had just broken up with you yet. You think you still haven't. Maybe you shouldn't have been so hasty to push him out, but you had held it in for as long as you possibly could. If he had lingered for a second longer, you would've probably broken down in front of him and begged him to take you back.

You blamed no one but yourself, at the time. You didn't even think about the fact that everything went two ways. Two sides to a coin. You were so in love that just the thought of Shawn purposely doing something to hurt you was revolting.

The break up itself was hard, and you knew you didn't take it well. You knew, that no matter how much you smiled and tried to go on like normal, people around you noticed. Shawn, who still hung around because you'd always been in the same social circles, noticed. That didn't stop him from having a new girl on his arm every time you saw him, or his name flashing across infamous magazines for his notorious ways.

That wasn't the Shawn you fell in love with, and it definitely wasn't the Shawn you still loved.

And even after months of that one fateful night, you didn't know why he did what he did. Maybe he did burn out, but did he really have to burn you down along with him?

would anyone like a part 2 to this because i think i got some IDEEAAAAS!

edit: i AM doing part 2 so just reply/message me to get added to a taglist!

Read Part 2 here!

[roggling]

Eye Opening

Relationship: Plance (Pidge x Lance)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (For slight makeout)

One-Shot

Word Count: 3192

Summary: A few months have passed since Team Voltron has had to destroy the Castle of Lions and now, they have to make a pit stop on planet Grijalva to stock up on supplies. Planet Grijalva has a population of aliens who can read the emotions of any living being and, unfortunately, Lance has had some powerful feelings after Keith revealed something Lance didn’t even know he had. This proves to be a little...problematic.

Lance sat in Red, running his hand through Kaltenecker's hair floof at the top of his head, "I don't think it's gonna happen, buddy."

Kaltenecker's just chewed on Lance-had-no-idea-what-because-there-isn't-any-food-on-his-lion. Lance continued though, "I mean, I've been there for her the whole time, yet she still chose Lotor."

Lance groaned and hit his head against the  back of his chair, "Feelings are so complicated. This is so stupid. Why am I moping over some girl?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

Lance jumped in his seat and looked wide-eyed at an amused Keith watching him from the screen.

Lance stammered before composing himself and asked/yelled, "How much of that did you hear?!"

"Just the last sentence," Keith assured, "We need to make a pit stop to stock up on food and supplies and Coran found a friendly planet just a lightyear away. Pidge already sent out the coordinates and the Lions are flying there right now. Just wanted to tell you."

Lance nodded.

Before Keith left, though, he asked, "What's this about moping about a girl?"

Lance shook his head, "It's nothing."

"It didn't seem like "nothing". You seemed pretty beat up about it," Keith said.

Lance just pouted.

"Is this about Allura?"

"What?!" Lance exclaimed, "Why would it be Allura?"

"You're right. Why would it be about Allura? It's not like you've been throwing yourself at her since we first arrived," Keith rolled his eyes.

Lance crossed his arms, "Forget it, Keith, you wouldn't understand."

"I would actually."

"I don't see how."

"I went through the same thing. Only, instead of rejecting me, she hated my guts for a few hours."

Lance froze and processed Keith's words and he asked hesitantly, "Hold on, you liked Allura?"

Keith shrugged and avoided his eyes, "Briefly. So did Shiro."

Lance nodded in understanding and let Keith continue, "We've all been through that Lance. Just talk to us if you need something. Even if it is weird."

"Definitely," Lance agreed.

"And," Keith added, "If you ever need to talk about Pidge, it's alright too."

"What about Pidge?"

"You know," Keith paused, "about your crush on her?"

Lance rose an eyebrow, "I don't have a crush on Pidge?"

"Really?" Keith asked.

Lance shook his head.

"Oh," Keith said, "I guess I read the signs wrong."

Lance rose an inquisitive brow, "What signs?"

Keith shrugged, "You know, the stolen gazes, the hovering, the invasion of personal space, your habit of borrowing her stuff, the teasing, the fond looks, and constantly talking about girls with her to get her jealous and then watching her reaction."

Lance gazed at him and Keith asked, "You don't see it?"

"The thing is," Lance drawled, "I see it now."

Keith sat in awkward silence as Lance personified the mesh of confusion and realization rolled up together, "Well, I'm just gonna go..."

Lance just sat in a daze. He never really thought about it that way. But now, it's so obvious.

He has been crushing on Pidge the whole time.

Lance whined and threw himself on Kaltenecker, "Now I really have it bad, girl. I like two girls way out of my league."

Kaltenecker moo-ed.

"I mean, Pidge is so smart. She never lets anyone doubt her and she is so strong and determined. She's pretty, too. And Allura is a princess, for crying out loud."

Kaltenecker nudged her head on to Lance's neck and Lance patted her head again.

"At least you're here. You're probably the only girl I love who actually notices me."

Kaltenecker moo-ed.

"Approaching planet Grijalva," Keith announced in the comms, "Remember, Coran said that they are a planet full of aliens who can read emotions. Keep your emotions in check and we'll be fine."

The Lions landed in a distant field and the paladins went out to town to meet with their leader.

Keith was leading the four, using the coordinates Pidge gave him. They were following a faint path that was completely covered by trees.

In the back, Hunk began rambling, "Hey, Keith, do you think they have chocolate? Their planet is pretty similar to Earth."

Keith shrugged, "I wouldn't know, Hunk, I've never been here before."

Hunk continued on, "Because that would be amazing. We will finally be able to make chocolate milkshakes, hot chocolate, chocolate fondue- oh, God, what if they have flour. I can finally make pancakes!"

"Hunk, budddy, pal, as much as I love your food rambles," Lance pointed to a frustrated Keith, "You're pissing Keith off."

Allura just rose an inquisitive brow, "What's a pancake?"

"Pidge are you sure these coordinates are correct?" Keith showed Pidge his map and she leaned over Lance to look at it.

She adjusted her glasses and narrowed her eyes, "Yeah, we're supposed to be in town-"

Suddenly, behind them, a giant creature took Lance's collar in its beak. The paladins screamed in surprise and took in the majestic creature.

It looked like a Griffin, half-lion and half-eagle, in neon colors.

Keith took out his blade and the rest of the team took out their Bayards. They charged, but by then the Griffin already flew away.

"No!" Pidge yelled and aimed her grappling hook. She fired.

The green grappling hook wound itself around the Griffin's tail and Pidge went flying with the Griffin.

Hunk grabbed on to the petite girl first and held down the Griffin for a second, long enough for Keith and Allura to climb up on the rope, before flying off too.

Keith and Allura made it to the back of the Griffin and pulled Hunk and Pidge in. The four caught their breath and they ran to the Griffin's shoulders and called out, "Lance! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, but look! I know why we didn't find the town!"

The team turned to where Lance easy pointing and they gasped when they saw a huge town on the canopy. Each house was carved into the thick blue trunks of the trees. Yellow lights emanated from inside and the pink leaves added a wonderful, warm tone to the town.

They would have enjoyed the view better if they weren't hanging on for their lives atop of a Griffin.

The Griffin circled the town before finding it's landing space. The Griffin landed on a platform and shook itself. It eventually shook out all the Paladins and they landed in a heap on the floor.

The Griffin peered down at them, Lance still hanging from its beak, and made its way to a big building in front of them. It placed Lance on the roof of said building and it squawked loudly.

The Paladins moved toward the building, but the Griffin looked down at them and squawked menacingly and they backed off.

"Lance!" Pidge yelled.

"I'm fine. Just...admiring the view as a Griffin takes me hostage."

Suddenly, the building's door opens and out came a humanoid-looking alien. It seemed to be female and had big, round eyes like an owl. She had webbed hands and her arms almost reached the ground.

She ran to the Griffin and cooed, "Hey, Brokaw. What you doing here?"

The Griffin cooed too and squawked and pointed its head to the Paladins. The alien stared wide-eyed at the Paladins and she approached them, "Oh, Paladins, you're here! Nice to finally meet you! My name's Crohji, Grijalva's Queen."

Keith extended his hand and gave a tight-lipped smile, "I'm Keith. It's an honor to be here, Crohji, but we do have a slight situation."

Crohji frowned and asked, "I sense frustration, is everything alright?"

"Well, your pet has taken one of our Paladins hostage," Allura explained with amusement in her voice.

Crohji turned around and gasped when she saw Lance on the roof. Lance let out a sheepish smile and waved, "Hi!"

Crohji sighed, "Brokaw, would you please explain yourself?"

The Griffin stood protectively in front of Lance and cawed multiple times as if it was actually speaking. Apparently, Crohji understood everything because she came back with a translation.

"Well, Paladins, as you may know, planet Grijalva and it's inhabitants have deep connections with emotion. Our guardian, Brokaw, is the first emotion reader. Her powers are strong and powerful. She felt the Red paladin is in great emotional distress-"

"WHAT? No I'm not!" Lance huffed, crossing his hand and his cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

Crohji ignored him, "and, as our guardian, it is her job to make him feel better. That is why everyone on planet Grijalva is so happy."

Allura stepped up, "Well, how can we help?"

"We will fix it in the traditional Grijalvian way. His friends and family will shower him with honest compliments, and we will know if they're honest, and then we will have a feast in his honor," Crohji clapped in excitement.

"You," she pointed to Keith, "you will go first. I sense a strong bond between you two. Tell him how you feel about your relationship."

"Well," Keith coughed into his hand, "this is getting awkward."

Lance nodded and blushed in embarassment, "Tell me about it."

"Uh," Keith scratched his neck and stepped up, "Well, you are an awesome pilot. The first time we met, you were absolutley horrible, but now, you've really gotten better. We all see it. Um, you're a great right-hand man too. You offer good strategies and you help me out in tough situations. You take leadership responsibly and you really are Paladin material. We need you, man."

Lance smiled ,"Thanks, Keith, that means a lot."

Crohji smiled and pointed to Hunk, "You. You also seem to be close with the red Paladin. Express yourself."

"Man, where to begin," Hunk pondered and stepped up, "You're the absolute, bestest friend a guy can ask for. You always try to break me out of my nervous shell and you know how to have fun. You're my best friend. Love you, bro."

Lance beamed a toothy smile, "Love you too, bro."

Crohji clapped, "Perfect! Now you!" She pointed to Allura, "he has strong feelings for you, Your Highness," Lance turned bet-red and Pidge pouted (though no one saw that), "Express yourself."

Allura fiddled with her hands and stepped up, "Um, I know how you feel about me, Lance, and I regret to say that I don't feel the same," Lance nodded solemnly and avoided eye contact, "You truly are an amazing guy. You are destined for great things. You have brought me up in my darkest moments. I owe you so much and you mean to me more than you realize."

Allura smiled and Lance smiled back, "Thank you, Princess."

Crohji squealed, "Wonderful! Now all we have left is you, young lady," she pointed at Pidge, "his feelings for you are stronger than for any other. It'll be your statement that will make a difference."

Lance smacked his head against the wooden roof.

Pidge was also blushing hard. She cleared her throat and stepped up to begin, "Well, Lance is probably the closest friends I have next to Hunk. He's always trying to help me break out of the shell I build against round me constantly. He proved all my bullies wrong. His hearty compliments and his jokes are what I look forward to. He's my best friend."

Pidge smiled up at Lance and he returned it. Thinking, it was done, Pidge was about to join the rest of the group before Crohji stopped her, "You are hiding something, Green Paladin."

Pidge stopped and turned around, her voice frustrated, "No I'm not!"

Crohji narrowed her eyes, "You're hiding how you truly feel out of fear."

Pidge glared and yelled, "No, I'm not!"

"If she doesn't want to say it, it's fine, Crohji!" Lance screamed from the top of the building.

The Griffin then squawked and took Lance in her beak again.

"What is she doing?" Keith yelled.

Crohji looked down at Pidge, "If you do not reveal how you feel, Brokaw will let your "best friend" fall from that branch."

The team looked up in horror to see the Griffin leave Lance at a branch, him grabbing onto the branch tightly with both hands.

"Are you insane?" Allura yelled.

Keith formed his Bayard's sword and placed it under Crohji's head, "Bring him down, right now!"

Crohji, calm as ever, warned, "If you hurt me, Brokaw will release your friend's grip and he will fall to his death."

Hunk looked up concerned at his struggling best friend, "Hold on, buddy, I'm coming!"

Hunk turned on his jet pack and he leaped up branch to branch, desperately trying you get to Lance before it's too late. Keith and Allura followed closely.

When Pidge tried to follow them, Crohji held her back with the help of two other Grijalvians.

Pidge struggled, "Let me go! I need to help!"

"You can," Crohji soothed, "You just need to reveal your true feelings."

Pidge roared, "Why are you doing this?!"

Crohji lamented, "I lost a loved one because I wouldn't reveal my true feelings. No one should go through that."

Pidge groaned, "This isn't the right way to do that!"

Crohji sighed, "Your friend is slipping he'll fall in five..."

Hunk is only about three branches away.

"...four..."

Lance is hanging on by one hand.

"...three..."

Keith and Allura are yelling at Pidge.

"...two..."

Lance tries to grab on with his other hand but he almost slipped. A tear falls down Pidge's cheek.

"...o-"

"I LOVE LANCE!"

Silence.

The Griffin appeared under Lance and he fell onto its back. His face in awe as he listened to Pidge.

"There..." she whispered defeatedly, "I said it. I am in love with Lance McClain."

Crohji smiled and was about to put a hand on Pidge's shoulder before Pidge shoved her hand away and spat, "I'm leaving."

The teen twirled in her heels and headed for the woods.

"Wait! We still have the feast!" Crohji called.

"I don't care!" Pidge yelled back.

Once the Griffin landed, Lance jumped off and ran after Pidge, "Pidge! Wait up!"

The paladins were going to follow, but then the Griffin held up a wing to stop them and she cawed.

"What did she say?" Allura asked.

"She said," Crohji gazed in the direction the two ran off to, "To give them privacy."

°•○●○•°

"Pidge! Piiidge! Pidgey? Pigeon! Where are you?" Lance called.

"Nowhere." Pidge deadpanned.

Lance followed the voice and found Pidge kicking the roots of a tree in anger.

"Hey, what did the tree ever do to you?"

"Lance, I don't want your pity. You didn't have to come after me." Pidge pouted and crossed her arms.

"You're right," Lance approached her, "I didn't have to... I needed to."

Pidge huffed and turned away, "Why are your showing me affection now."

"Well," Lance began, "After-"

"I won't be your rebound, Lance. I'm not any body's second choice," Pidge spat solemnly.

"Good thing you aren't mine, then." Lance got closer and Pidge backed up against a tree.

"What are you doing?" Pidge stammered, a blush coming up from Lance's intense gaze.

Lance placed his left forearm beside Pidge's head and his right hand cupped Pidge's jaw, "Something I should have done a long time ago."

Pidge bit her lip.

"Pidge, I never realized my feelings for you until Keith shoved them down my throat a few vargas ago. Our relationship was so fluid and easy, I never realized when our teasing became stronger. I never realized how much I treasured you. When you left to go find your brother, I thought the hole in me was me missing my best friend. I now realize that what we have is so much stronger. Keith opening my eyes to my crush on you was almost like Romeo. He was in love and heartbroken with Rosaline, but once he saw Juliet, everything faded away."

Lance smiled down at Pidge, "You're my Juliet, Pidge, just a smarter, badass version of her."

"Don't forget cooler." Pidge teased, her hands wrapping around Lance's neck.

Lance chuckled, "Definitely cooler."

Lance leaned in and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Pidge nodded, "Yes."

Their kiss was like Hazel Grace falling asleep and falling in love: it was slow, then all at once.

The two were fairly inexperienced. The only kiss Lance had was with Jenny Shaybon and that was just a peck when he as fifteen. Pidge hasn't had a first kiss.

This was different. It was Pidge. It was so much better.

She pulled at his hair and he pulled her neck in closer so he can have a better grip and position.  Their lips were clumsy as they moved against each other.

They were short, fluid kisses that would last a second before they would separate and come back together like magnets.

Lance relaxed his hand and let himself smush Pidge, causing her to giggle as he did so. Her hands cupped his cheeks as he planted more short and frantic kisses, each sucking a bit on her lips.

Lance then shifted his head and started to kiss her jaw, but Pidge stopped him and placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away slightly.

Lance got the memo and immediately stopped, instead planting a kiss on Pidge's forehead and resting his forehead on hers, "Too much?"

Pidge nodded.

"No problem, Pigeon. We'll go at your pace."

Pidge smiled and placed another kiss on his lips, this one long and soft.

Their lips popped as they disconnected and the two let out a sigh. Pidge laid her head on his shoulder an Lance hugged her and breathed in her scent. Peanut butter.

"I can't believe it."

Lance smiled, "Can't believe what?"

Pidge moved away and smirked, "That you finally opened your eyes."

Lance laughed, "That I did," Pidge squeaked as Lance wrapped her in his arms and started kissing her cheeks, "But you're going to have to get used to it 'cause I'm never letting you go now."

When the two returned, their friends were waiting for them. Shiro, Romelle, Krolia, and Coran also came in to join in the feast.

Lance and Pidge materialised from the forest with joint hands and he lifted them up, announcing loudly, "I have found the love of my life!"

The Grijalvians cheered loudly, happy to help two people fix their emotional distress, and team Voltron clapped and smiled for their friends. Coran, Hunk, and Romelle teared up (well, Hunk and Coran actually cried).

Pidge was laughing and Lance took that as a cue to pick her up and twirl her in the air and then bring her down to kiss her soundly. Pidge's hands cupped his cheeks and she smiled in to the kiss.

Lance pulled away and carried her with one hand and faced the crowd and pumped a fist in the air, "Now let's eat some food!"

Pidge smiled and shook her head in amusement, "This is exactly how I imagined our getting together to be like."

Lance laughed and joined their foreheads. He then separated and ran to the table, Pidge bumping up and down in his arm, "Lance put me down!"

"Never!"

[got7-texts]

Circus - Yugyeom (98/100)

You can find my post explaining the 100 Day Drabble Challenge here

To view the masterlist of drabbles for the challenge, click here

Prompt: Circus Member: Yugyeom x Reader AU: Circus!AU

Word Count: 1,997,

You hummed lightly as you hung up your clothes on the clothesline, taking care to straighten out your costume so as to not have any wrinkles in it the next day. You were so engrossed in the activity that you barely heard someone come up behind you.

“Y/N, there you are.” You turned around and gave a small smile to your boss.

“Hey Jaebum. Did you need something?” you asked the ringleader, glancing back at him before turning back to your clothes and continuing to hang them.

“Just wanted to give you this,” he said, handing you an envelope which you immediately recognized as your weekly pay. You gave him another smile and nodded.

“Thanks, boss,” you said, jovially. Jaebum tipped his hat to you and then began to walk away but stopped and then turned back to say, “Oh, and if you want some more target practice, the newbie is officially part of the crew so knock yourself out.”

You let out a small chuckled and hushed him, smiling widely. Once you finished with your chores, you walked back over to the main tent to see how everyone else was using their day off. Entering the common area, you saw Jinyoung and Jackson sitting next to each other eating a late lunch.

“Hey guys,” you said, walking over and leaning down to give them both side hugs.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?” Jinyoung asked. You leaned against the table and shrugged. Jinyoung was Jaebum’s right hand man and although he didn’t have a specific act in the circus, he was the genius behind the scenes.

“You know…it goes,” you said, stealing a bit of bread from Jackson’s plate as he smacked your hand playfully.

“Go play with your knives, we’re busy,” Jackson said, sticking his tongue out at you. You raised your eyebrows and looked at Jinyoung with curiousity.

“Oh? Something new? Jackson, are you changing the strongman act?” you asked, taking a seat next to Jinyoung. Jinyoung shook his head.

“No, we have a few newbies. We’re thinking about adding a new act completely,” Jinyoung explained. You hummed in agreement and glanced around.

“So where are they?” you asked. “I wanna meet them,” you stated, excitedly. Jackson chuckled at nodded towards the exit.

“I think Jaebum has them cleaning out the animal cages,” he snickered. You bit back a smile and then stood up.

“Alright, let me go help them,” you said, snagging one more piece of bread. “God knows they won’t have any sympathy from either of you,” you added as Jackson laughed and shook his head while Jinyoung simply smiled lightly and shrugged.

You exited the common area and walked across the fairgrounds, nodding at the groundskeepers, your fellow circus folk, and the other people that scattered the circus area. You had been with the circus for just about five years and you were always seeing people come and go.

You had been a young pick-pocketer on the street and it was actually Jackson that caught you and brought you to the circus. At first you had refused, but after a while, you realized that the circus was like a small tight-knit community. Everyone was different, but everyone loved and respected each other.

At first you were stuck on cleaning duty, making sure the grounds were spotless, cleaning the dishes, washing the clothes, and other mundane activities. But you wanted to play a bigger role in the circus, and so you began to shadow many of the acts.

The lion taming was a bit too much for you. Trapezing was also way far out of your league and there was no way that you would be able to showcase any other personal talent.

It wasn’t until you met the old knife thrower that you found something you enjoyed doing and could potentially be good at. Her name was Dolores and she was just about the most strict, rude, and potentially life-threatening person you had ever met. But she was also one of the best knife throwers around.

After a few years of watching her and practicing, you had honed your skills to the point where you too, were a fairly accurate knife thrower. Of course, you were nowhere near as good as Dolores, but that type of skill would only be gained with age.

And so, seeing your skills and wanting to retire to a beach house far away, Dolores took her leave, naming you the knife thrower to be in charge of the act.

Now, as you walked over to the animal cages, you reminisced about the times when you were still new to the circus. You pulled away the door and walked inside, looking around at the monkeys and horses.

“Yugyeom, get up and help me! Look, even BamBam is helping!” you heard a voice call out. You walked over toward the voices and saw three boys about your age. One was sweeping the floor while another was pouring more hay into the horse’s stables. The third boy was leaning against the wall, watching the other two with a small innocent smile on his face.

“Sorry Youngjae, cleaning is your job,” the boy who you now knew as Yugyeom said laughed, teasing the boy that was pouring the hay who was supposedly Youngjae

“You suck,” the last boy, who you assumed was BamBam, said with bitterness. You walked up and the three of them turned their attention to you.

“Hey there,” you said, sticking out your hand to Youngjae who was the closest to you. “I’m Y/n,” you added, leaning up against the tiger cage casually.

“I’m Youngjae,” the boy said, shaking your hand. “That’s BamBam and that’s Yugyeom,” he added, pointing to the other two. BamBam nodded and you and Yugyeom gave a small wave.

“Are you new too?” BamBam asked, forgetting his work to speak with you instead. You laughed lightly as the tiger, Sheila, sauntered over to you.

“Not really,” you said, sticking your hand into the cage and letting her sniff it. You glanced at the boys and bit back a laugh as you looked at their horror ridden faces. Sheila, however, simply licked your hand and nuzzled up against the side of the cage.

“Okay, that’s terrifying,” Youngjae said, taking a step back and going back to shoveling hay into the horse’s cage. You let out a small laugh and shook your head.

“She’s harmless, don’t worry,” you said, petting her head and pulling your hand away to walk over to the other two. “So are you guys off the street? Or from another circus?” you asked, curiously.

“Youngjae and I got picked up by Jaebum,” BamBam said. “Yugyeom…not so much,” he added, pointing to the other boy.

You turned your attention to Yugyeom and realized that he was much taller than you had originally thought. He had dark hair that fell into his dark eyes and high cheekbones – all of which made him seem more mysterious.

“He’s exaggerating,” Yugyeom said with a small smile. “But yea, I came from another circus. I was working in a different city but the circus got disbanded. Apparently, our boss knew yours so I got recruited,” he explained. His voice was a bit higher than you had expected but it was pleasing to hear – almost like bells.

“Really? What was your act?” you asked, inquisitively. Yugyeom gave a nervous smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I was just a fire-breather,” he said. BamBam scoffed as he brushed away the hay from the ground and rolled his eyes.

“Yea…just a fire breather. No big deal,” BamBam said sarcastically. “Meanwhile, we’re over hear doing the grunt work,” he added, sadly.

“Don’t worry, everyone starts with the grunt work. You’ll move up…eventually…” you said, giving him a small encouraging smile.

“What about you? What do you do here?” Yugyeom asked, crossing his arms.

“Knife thrower,” you said with a nod of your head. “So if you guys get tired of working with the animals, I may need someone to target practice at,” you mentioned.

“At?” Youngjae exclaimed, his eyes going a bit wide. You immediately shook your hands in denial.

“No, no! I meant…with!” you hurriedly said, trying to alleviate his fears. Unfortunately, he was right. “Anyways, I just wanted to introduce myself. I should get back to the main tent, but I’ll see you guys later okay?” you said, motioning to Youngjae and BamBam. “See you at practice,” you added to Yugyeom before taking your leave.

“So, this is the fire bender?” Jackson asked, sitting next to you on the bench as you watched Yugyeom practice in front of you.

“You mean fire breather?” you asked, chuckling slightly.

The big top was loud, preparing for the next big show. You had gotten up early to practice your knife throwing and now you were taking a break and watching the others. The bearded lady seemed to be working on her performance while the ventriloquist was working on his. The contortionist was off to the side while the trapeze artists where flying through the air, trying out new tricks while occasionally falling onto the nets below.

Yugyeom was off to the side, twirling two sticks in his hands and doing an intricate dance, but he had not yet lit his sticks. You watched him closely. You had never had a fire dancer or eater or breather at your circus and you were very interested in what Yugyeom had in store. He was quite young but, as you knew, age didn’t really matter when it came to skill.

“You’re drooling a little,” Jackson said, touching the side of your mouth that was slightly open but you immediately flinched and swatted his hands away. Jackson chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be over there lifting something?” you asked, jokingly. Jackson laughed again and then nodded.

“Yea, you’re probably right,” he said hastily as he nodded over to the entrance and then scuttled away. You followed his gaze to see Jaebum walking into the tent and you quickly scampered back to the target area as well.

Every now and then, you would look back at Yugyeom in anticipation for him lighting his sticks, but he never did. Eventually, he took a break and sat down on the ground, drinking water. You took your opportunity and set down your knives, walking over to him.

“Hey there,” you said, standing in front of him and waving lightly.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” he said, happily, patting the ground next to him. You took his invitation and sat down, drinking deeply from your water bottle. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?” he said, looking around at all the acts. “I can’t believe you guys have a tiger. And a lion!” he exclaimed. You looked over to Mark who was petting Sheila and kissing her head and you chuckled.

“Yea, we’re kind of the best circus ever,” you said, genuinely. Yugyeom nodded. “But to be honest, I’m excited to see your fire dancing. I’ve never seen anyone work with fire before,” you said, motioning to his sticks.

“It’s not really that exciting, just really…hot,” he said, casually.

“Really?” you asked. You raised an eyebrow at him and when he looked at you he immediately turned pink and shook his head.

“Wait, no, not like that. I mean it’s actually>/i> hot. Like sometimes I’ll accidentally burn myself or something,” he quickly said, mumbling lightly. You gave a light laugh and nudged him gently with your shoulder.

“Well, either way, I’m excited to see it,” you said. “Any way I could get a sneak peek?” you asked, smirking lightly. Yugyeom locked eyes with you once more and then slowly nodded.

“Yea…I think so,” he stuttered, slightly surprised. You stood up and brushed yourself off and grinned down at him.

“Great! Meet me here tonight at midnight. I want to see what you can do,” you said, smirking once more and then walking back to the practice range feeling victorious.