#(also yes the demon race is still alive in this AU)

[therabbitthatpostthings]

(Part 1) (Part 2) Final part to the Giyuu's Secret Family AU story thingy. This has single handily made me attached to the OC even though I still won't give her a name. Might draw her one day.... She/Her Pronouns.

Shinobu and Mitsuri seemed enraptured in Lady Tomioka’s tales of her friendship with Giyuu. The man she described was different from the one they had come to know. Telling these stories also helped calm her down and let Shinobu slip out to send word to the Master of her return. It was strange that the thought of love was so unbelievable but, here (Y/N) is, a blushing mess while just thinking of her husband.

“How cute..” Shinobu thought.

(Y/N) didn’t seem to mind, the dark and brooding Giyuu had disappeared a long time ago and now was her loving husband and father to their son. And Giyuu loved his son and wife so much. They both came from less than happy backgrounds. No village or home to return to or at least that would welcome them. Their families were destroyed and they hoped to forever be the loving parents for Hiroshi. That’s what (Y/N) loved most about Giyuu, he was hopeful. Hope was something she lost long ago but, if Giyuu believed in it, then she would believe in him.

Even when things got troublesome Giyuu still had hope and looked out for her. On one of her more troublesome missions, (Y/N) had believed the threat was over and she could sleep the night away. She fought valiantly and the village rewarded her for it. To her surprise she is awoken in the wee hours by a large crash. Just outside her room was Giyuu fighting a demon he chased from his location. Fighting with injuries and reopening wounds slowed her down but she managed to help kill the beast. She could barely stand from then on and the days following Giyuu would carry her back home, stopping at a Wisteria House along the way.

“You don’t have to take care of me Tomioka.” She said quietly as he rebandaged her leg.

“You say that all the time.” He stated. 

“I just… I don’t want to be a burden.” She replied.

“You aren’t.”

His tone had a slight tinge of annoyance. Hesitantly (Y/N) spoke again, “I don’t understand why you would care for me this much.”

“You ask me ‘why’ a lot. I care about you, isn’t that enough?” 

“I haven't done anything remarkable to be cared about by you. Or anyone for that matter.” (Y/N)’s voice trailed off. She clutched the edge of her robe, not trying to maintain eye contact.

“You are alive (L/N), that’s all I need.”

“What..”

“I don’t need you to do grand gestures, you talking to me everyday is enough.”

(Y/N) was at a loss for words. She couldn’t hide her blush as Giyuu finished and looked her in the eye. She quickly turned her head to the side. Her heart was racing and emotions washed over her like a waterfall.

“I like having you around.” He said softly.

This only made her blush deeper. She wasn’t even sure of her own feelings when she blurted out, “I-I would stay by your side if you asked me to! You're one of my only friends, Tomioka, so I won’t be a burden anymore! I promise!”

(Y/N) continued on with her stuttering. Giyuu felt a slight twinge in his chest. Looking at her, he could only think of one thing.

Burden…

A feeling he knew all too well. That wasn’t (Y/N) though. She could never be a burden to him. She made time to talk with him. Go out to dinner. They trained together, fought together. She made him feel lighter. (Y/N) was no burden. She was an integral part of him, one he couldn’t lose. Not again.

“-I know I can’t do much but I’ve already made it to Hinoe! I can get better, I can-”

Giyuu gently and slowly pulled (Y/N) in for a hug. He was somewhat awkward at it but it felt too good to hold her close to him. “Would you really stay by my side if I asked?”

“Y-Yes, of course.”

“Then stay by me, please. Stay alive (Y/N). That’s all I want.”

“I will,” She smiled to herself hugging him back. “I’ll stay by you Giyuu.”

(Y/N) remembered how they stayed up talking until they both fell asleep. How that became a routine and she practically lived at Giyuu’s estate. Giyuu’s not an openly affectionate person so it wasn’t a challenge to keep the relationship a secret. Despite (Y/N) only becoming stronger she was still not yet a Hashira so the thought of her dating one never crossed anyone’s mind (aside Masato). She giggled to herself as her face flushed again.

“Are you okay (Y/N)?” Mitsuri asked.

“I’m fine! I was just thinking of how we were years ago. I was so shy around Giyuu, it’s embarrassing!” (Y/N) laughed.

Mitsuri couldn’t help but be endeared to (Y/N). “Now I have to know! How did he propose?” Shinobu popped back into the room, intrigued to know as well. (Y/N) face heated up again, remembering the night.

It wasn’t very often that Giyuu and (Y/N)’s days off crossed with each other but today was a lucky day. Looking back on it, she suspected he asked the Master for the day off. (Y/N) had been suspicious over the last couple days, starting with her Master being a lot happier these days. Actually Giyuu seemed happier too. Instead of staying in like normal, he suggested going out. After a good breakfast, the two left to walk around town and shop. It was a very calm day. It almost felt normal. As the day shifted to the evening they ate a hearty dinner and slowly made their way back to Giyuu’s estate. The sun was slowly starting to set as Giyuu turned to a clearing in the trees.

“What are you doing?”

“I think we should go this way, it’s a longer way back.”

(Y/N) smiled and took Giyuu’s hand, “Why the sudden change?”

“Just thought it would be nice.” He said as you two stepped off onto the clearing.

“Giyuu if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to lead me somewhere.” (Y/N) teased. A small light peaked through the clearing and you both came upon a clearing. There was a garden surrounded by two small ponds and wisteria trees overlooking them both. It was a gorgeous sight to see, especially with the full moon illuminating the area. Giyuu lead (Y/N) across the path to the large gazebo on the far side of the garden.

“Did you set all this up? It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) smiled.

Giyuu’s face was redder than it’s ever been before. He couldn’t look her in the eye as he took both her hands in his. He stood there in an embarrassed silence, grateful (Y/N) wasn’t rushing him.

“(Y/N),” He started slowly, “If I asked, would you stay by me…always?”

“My answer never changed, Giyuu. I’d follow you anywhere.”

Giyuu felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He finally looked up to see (Y/N)'s smiling face. She’s beautiful…

“I love you. The chances of us dying grow greater every day and I know one day I may go somewhere you cannot follow but, I’d rather come to that day knowing I had you with me. I feel happy around you, like I was given life again. I want to give that happiness to you. I want to marry you.”

(Y/N) was stunned. It was like the world stopped and they were the only ones that were alive still. Giyuu started to worry as (Y/N) hadn’t replied. She started crying!

“I-I understand if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I just wanted to be with you- we don’t have to-“

“Giyuu! Of course I’ll marry you!” (Y/N) pulled him into a kiss. Giyuu recovered from the shock and kissed back. They pulled away and he rested his forehead against hers.

“I don’t think I believed in love until I met you.” (Y/N) smiled.

“I don’t think I was really living until I met you. I promise to always make you happy.”

—

“I think because we knew this life would eventually take us both that we should cherish what we have right now. We’re alive right now, let’s be happy and in love too. It’s a selfish wish, especially considering Hiroshi but, I can’t regret my choices now. I can only be better from here on out.”

“That was so beautiful!” Mitsuri cheered in full tears. “I’m so happy you and Tomioka found each other!”

“Thank you, I’m happy I met him.” (Y/N) smiled.

“I’ll go get you something to drink,” Shinobu excused herself. She barely made it two steps out the door before being bombarded by a frantic Tomioka at the door.

“Where is she?! Where is (Y/N)!?” Giyuu’s eyes darted around looking for his wife.. Uzui and Sanemi were close behind with bags in hand. 

“She’s stable. She’s talking to Mitsuri right now, calm down. You’ll worry her if she sees you so scared.” Shinobu said calmly. Giyuu tried to slow his breathing but could barely muster the confidence. He quickly moved past Shinobu into the room. (Y/N) and Mitsuri both jumped in their seats at the sound of the door slamming open. All composure left Giyuu as soon as he saw his bandaged wife. Giyuu pulled her into a tight hug.

“Giyuu, I-I didn’t send for you yet.” She said turning all her worry to her husband.

“The news came from Master.” He finally let go of the breath he was holding in. “I was so worried (Y/N).”

“I didn’t mean to scare you dear.” She smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. Giyuu settled on the bed, refusing to leave or even let go of (Y/N). A stark shift from the man that didn’t even want anyone to see his wife. You would think Giyuu was the one injured with the way she suddenly doted on him. The Hashira stood idly by as (Y/N) tended to her very worried husband. The same husband that hardly showed any affection last they all met was now clinging to her side. Both of them noticeably wearing their wedding bands as well.

“We brought food!” Uzui declared. “We were eating when we got the news. We might have left Muichiro behind.”

Sanemi and Uzui soon left after that, along with Mitsuri. They each waved their goodbyes to (Y/N) and she thanked them again. To Giyuu’s disapproval Shinobu informed them (Y/N) would stay the night. Regardless of his protess, (Y/N) agreed. “I couldn’t let Hiroshi see me like this.”

“I’ll tell Master Yamato that Hiroshi is staying the night then.” Giyuu stated, earning a look from (Y/N). “I’m not leaving you.”

“Giyuu I am fine.” (Y/N) reassured him.

With Hashira gone Giyuu spoke in a softer tone. “I know, but I want to stay with you.”

Knowing she couldn’t argue, (Y/N) gave in. Shinobu came back soon after to lend (Y/N) clothes. The Butterfly girls helped her to the bath while Giyuu stayed, still worried.

“It’s so strange seeing you affectionate Tomioka.” Shinobu smiled, handing him a set of sleeping clothes.

“Are you teasing me?”

“No. I just wanted to say, I’m happy for you. You and your family.”

#shitpost #shitposting #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tomioka giyu x reader #tomioka giyuu #writing fanfics at 3 am #cringe- #no beta we die like men #Giyuu Secret Family AU #demon slayer oc #kny oc #might give her name #*puts on list of other demon slayer oc's* #I named her #her name is Seiko- Tomioka Seiko

[shiroboom]

Arknights x Tekken AU doodle 😋 (i forgot that i have this au lmao)

Let's start with the Mr. Mishima himself!

So in my Crossover AU, G-Corporation is a pharmaceutical company. A company works for medical stuff and also seeking a cure for Oripathy (rock cancer). G-Corp is currently having partnership with Rhodes Island and sending Kazuya as a representative of the company also works as an operator too!

As an operator, Kazuya is an operator who has a habit that is not being able to get along with others even with the doctor themselves 😂

He has this habit for a long time since he became the CEO of G-Corp. Sometimes he's also a bit strict towards the doctor which made the doctor a little reluctant to invite him to go on a mission with other operators

Ah btw he's a "Sarkaz" (A race that has demon or devil traits). He's a guard class and his archetype is fighter/brawler. 😆

I'm thinking about his codename though 🤔 Is "Oppressor" a good one??

Old Concept :

And Last one 😉

The Sankta Woman

Jun is a female Sankta (a race with angel traits) with Oripathy disease who is looking for a cure. Rhodes Island is the only place for her to stay alive with her incurable disease. Previously she had asked G-Corp for help but was flatly rejected. So her meeting with the CEO surprised her. Her relationship with the CEO was quite complex. Even it's just a "close friend".

Ah as an operator, she's a supporter with bard archetype :)

Old Concept :

And yes it's done! Actually I'm interested in continuing this AU further.

I've been thinking about other tekken characters with the races in arknights 😆💜

For example: Jin is a hybrid sankta, He has an angelic appearance like his mother but when he uses his arts abilities, he will grow a Sarkaz trait such as horns like his father (Devil Jin).

He suffers from split personality because his mother had Oripathy, so he also got infected when he was still a baby, this Oripathy attacks the nerves of his brain which makes him have a split personality until now.

And there's more, maybe Heihachi with Oni race and Kazumi has Sarkaz race same as Kazuya's. I still have a lot to say but maybe that's it for now 😂

Please stay tuned for more!

#tekken #kazuya mishima #jun kazama #arknights #fan au

[pettyeti]

Character Details: Etienne

𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒔

Name: Etienne (True Name: Haruhisa no Kaifu) Nicknames: Eti, Haru Age: 36 Nameday: March 1, First Sun of the Second Astral Moon Race: Raen Au Ra Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Bisexual Profession: Warrior of Light (Retired), occasional mercenary.

𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔

Hair: Inky black with blue highlights. As he gets older, his highlights turn blue-gray. Eyes: Ice blue. Right eye is serpentine and glows slightly. Colloquially, people refer to it as a "Demon Eye." Skin: Tan. Tattoos/Scars: Following the events of Pandaemonium, Etienne was gifted "tattoos" by his Azem, Selene. These aren't actually tattoos, but serve as conduits for him to channel Ancient magics for brief periods of time. Eti didn't acquire many scars during his time as a WoL. It was only during his final confrontation in Ultima Thule that this changed, having received a pretty dire stab wound on his stomach (thanks Zenos.)

𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚

Parents: Chihaya no Yatsurugi (F) [Deceased] Born to the noble family of Yatsurugi. Chihaya was reclusive and quiet by nature, preferring to remain hidden from the public eye. She was known to suffer from severe bouts of melancholia which progressively got worse as she aged. Chihaya loved her son dearly, and Etienne was all but attached to her at the hip as a child. Sadly, she grew more and more apathetic until she withdrew from Etienne completely. Gyokusei no Kaifu (M) [Deceased] Head of the Kaifu clan. Etienne's relationship with his father was resentful at best. Gyokusei saw potential in him, but believed he suffered from the same "laziness" his sister had in abundance. He hated how timid and sensitive Etienne was, and would often push his son to the very brink in order to mold him into someone deserving of his birthright. Despite everything, Etienne still loves both his parents. He just doesn't enjoy talking about them. Siblings: None Grandparents: To be continued.... In-Laws & Others: In-laws are deceased, but if Noelle and Hemlock (Vrai's Moms) were still alive they would like him <3 Etienne's only surviving family member is his aunt on his father's side - Sayo no Kaifu. Etienne visits her once a year and they have a good relationship.

𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔

Abilities: A master martialist, Etienne possesses impeccable stamina and strength. He's particularly adept with daggers, katanas, and greatswords, and hand-to-hand combat. (NIN, SAM, DRK, MNK) Thanks to Perfect Alexander's weapons, he also has some mastery over time magic. While he can't alter the flow of time itself, he can perceive it differently, allowing him to move at speeds that should be impossible. Hobbies: LOVES FISHING. Gardening, painting landscapes, and writing poetry. Will talk your ear off about Korpokkurs. Genuinely enjoys training and fighting.

𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔

Most Positive: His honesty. Etienne will never, ever lie to you. He would rather count every grain of sand in the sea than resort to deception. Need an honest opinion? He's your man. Need a straight answer? He will give it to you. (He's not book smart at all, but for good friends he's emotionally intelligent and highly empathetic. He speaks so little because he listens veeerrry intently, and he considers every. single. word he says before it leaves his mouth.) Most Negative: Destructive and cruel. When his melancholia is at his worse, he gets EXTREMELY cold and ices people out. Impossible to read, he shutters his emotions until he inevitably explodes on the battlefield or in his room.

𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔

Colors: Black, white, grey, and (light) blue. Smells: The ocean. Faint floral scents (hyacinth). Polished steel. Incense. Clean linen. Textures: Silk. Sand. Flower petals. Serpent scales. Feathers. Pearls. Drinks: Tea (green, chamomile)

𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔

Smokes: Yes. Owns a kiseru and smokes kizami. Only smokes after particularly stressful days. Drinks: Rarely. Only enjoys wine. Drugs: Somnus (VERY rarely.) Mount Issuance: Unicorn and Ixion. Both are Azem's creations and so hold an affinity for Etienne. Been Arrested: No.

Tagged By: @thefreelanceangel and @desertdragon

Tagging: If you see this, you are tagged. Yes, you.

#tag game. #etienne. #long post

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 57 (Final)

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find your relic.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

AO3

You’d only been to the ancient Sanctum a few times, with strict access to the library for your studies and nowhere else, and normally you would be excited to visit the unofficial headquarters of the Mystic Arts.

But now, as you followed Wong to the room of portals that would lead to the Nepal sanctum, your stomach twisted and your heart raced. You couldn’t even enjoy the fact this was where Strange had gone on his near-disastrous pilgrimage. The idea of the Ancient One kicking him out on his ass was an entertaining one, though you were still glad she eventually trained him. As irritated as you were about a lot of things regarding the former surgeon, he and Wong both had taught you nearly everything you knew.

Plus, you’d seen the scars on his hands. As arrogant and egotistical as he appeared, Strange had suffered to get where he was. Not unlike yourself. Not unlike Bucky.

The Orb of Agamotto hung within the circular room where other sorcerers consulted with it, verifying that the magical Earthly shields were still intact. Past them were three doors leading to the other sanctums, including the one in Kathmandu.

You and Bucky followed Wong through, the familiar feeling of displacement shifting your stomach and throwing you off balance for a moment. Neither Wong nor Bucky were as unsteady as you were. It had been something you were embarrassed about, but according to Strange during one of your lessons, it simply meant you were more sensitive to spatial displacement.

As Wong led you both through the ancient stone hallways, past the commons where other sorcerers were in training, doubt crept along your nerves. Someday, possibly sooner than you were prepared, all of these people were going to follow you. Look to you for guidance, for teaching. For protection.

How were you supposed to become the next Ancient One if you couldn’t even walk through a portal without getting dizzy?

This wasn’t going to work. The idea was crazy enough to begin with. The Ancient One had to be wrong. You were going to step into her office and nothing would happen. You would make a fool of yourself; you weren’t any more talented or skilled than any other sorcerer. Just half a year ago, you’d had no idea demons and magic were even real.

And now, you were expected to carry on the mantle as one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth? How was that even possible? How could you ever be worthy enough to—

Wong opened a door using a complicated series of hand gestures, and as soon as you stepped through, your panicked mind fell silent. Energy thrummed along your skin, setting the hairs upright.

“Here it is.”

Wong’s announcement was unnecessary; you would know this place in your dreams, even though you had never been.

It was a simple room with a single large, circular window pointed towards the mountains over the city. Potted plants perched on most available surfaces that weren’t covered with books, scrolls, and odd knickknacks.

There was only a single writing desk pushed to the side, humble and unobtrusive. The rest of the room was empty space with a single well-worn green rug in the middle. But the plants made everything seem alive and verdant. It felt very much like a place the Ancient One would spend her time. It was a reflection of her, in a way. Quiet, but hidden with secret truths.

“Take a look around,” Wong said, but you were already moving. Slowly and with intense focus, you circled the room, reaching out and feeling, not with your hands but with your mind.

Odd and powerful energy pervaded the room, muted by spells but still apparent to you. They were coming from the artifacts that were laid out, seemingly casually, on the shelves and desks.

Most of them seemed as plain and unimportant as the room itself. A cracked vase with the lip stained red. A golden helmet that was varnished and faded, but two glittering horns jutted from the temples. A knobby staff with a smooth, grey stone fixed at one end, as modest as any walking stick except for the melodic hum that emanated from the stone. You had a feeling neither Wong nor Bucky could hear it.

But despite all the weird, wonderful oddities in your reach, you were drawn elsewhere. You approached one corner of the room where lay a pile of old scrolls and their cloth wrappings, and moved them aside with care to reveal what was hidden underneath.

It was a sword hilt. Just the hilt. There was no blade, not even a piece of broken metal. The metal was dulled with time and flaked with rust, the pommel grey and dirty.

You reached out and hesitated. Fingertips inches away, something stopped you. The knowledge that once you took hold of the relic, everything would change.

You glanced over your shoulder at Bucky.

He was watching you with close attention, as was Wong, but when he caught your eye he gave a small smile of encouragement. He supported you, even though he had to know what this meant, or at least had a good idea of it.

Not every sorcerer found their relic within the Ancient One’s study.

Comfort and warmth, so strong it could only be described as love, flooded across the bond and washed away your fears. You returned his smile, even if it was shaky, and you held on to that feeling as you turned back to the hilt.

You closed the distance, wrapped your fingers around the relic, and lifted it.

It was surprisingly heavy; that was your only observation before it began. The hilt thrummed in your palm, vibrating so fast you nearly dropped it.

The rust flaked away from the metal, leaving it polished and silver. The grey pommel was shaken of its dirt, and you realized it was white bone, the metal wrapping around it to form the grip and crossguard.

The thrumming didn’t stop, but you couldn’t let go even if you wanted to. Your fingers seized around the metal, energy teeming up your hand and arm. When it reached your right shoulder, all the way up to your pentagram, the sigil burned in a way it hadn’t done since the ritual.

Bucky must have sensed your panic because he rushed forward, but you backed away from him fast, instinct screaming at you to put a safe distance between you now.

It was a good thing you had; the energy from your sigil exploded down your arm, through your hand, and into the hilt. A burst of red light shot outward, forcing you to turn away from the blinding beam.

When the light dimmed and you could see again, blinking away the after images, you stared at the sword. That’s what it was now. A glowing red blade, seemingly made entirely of light. The energy that came from it was purely of the demon realm, scorching and sulfuric.

“What…” You choked the words past your dry throat. “What is this?”

There were only a handful of times you’d ever seen Wong shocked. So, that was three powerful sorcerers you’d rendered speechless in the span of a day.

“The blade of Hell, or so it is spoken. None in the history of the order had been able to unlock its powers, rendering it anything more than a broken hilt.” He leveled you with a somber stare. “It is called Daemonio Vexatur. Which means—“

“—to become a demon.”

Wong raised a brow.

“Rough translation, but yes.”

“So, it’s a demon sword?” asked Bucky, eyeing the glowing blade. He was understandably wary, and honestly, was accepting what was happening better than you were. You were still stuck on the fact that you were holding a glowing-freaking-sword in your hand.

“Yes. And no,” Wong said in traditional teaching-fashion. “A demon cannot wield it, but it takes demonic energy to power.”

“Oh. So that’s why my sigil and my entire arm feel like they’re on fire.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and he took a step forward, protectiveness sizzling along the bond, and you gave him a hurried smile.

“Kidding. Sort of.” You smiled wider through your clenched teeth. “It is really uncomfortable.”

Bucky’s dark look told you he didn’t believe you, and with what you imagined was coming from your end of the bond, you didn’t blame him. Holding the sword was like holding on to a live wire that was also burning. There was a molten jolt connecting the hilt to your sigil, and you were just hoping to not get incinerated in the process.

And just like that, the connection was gone, and the relief of your arm no longer being on fire was dimmed by the disappointment as the sword was extinguished, leaving nothing more than a gleaming hilt.

“What happened?” You frowned, eyeing the relic as if searching for an on switch.

“It will take time and training to effectively control your relic.”

“How long?” You looked up when Wong didn’t answer immediately, catching the serious dent in his brow.

“It’s hard to say. No one in living memory has wielded the blade, and it was believed no one ever would.”

Wong gave a heavy sigh.

“So of course, you would be the one to wield it.”

You returned your gaze to the relic and turned over the hilt in your hand, admiring the metal and bone. You wondered if the bone was from a demon, a safe bet considering.

“So.” You carefully put down the hilt and turned to give Bucky your best serious face. “How does it feel to have a wizard girlfriend with a lightsaber?”

Wong rolled his eyes. He knew you well enough by now to know what you were doing, but he didn’t comment on your attempts to over your fear with humor. He muttered something about reporting to Strange as he left the office.

But Bucky…

Worry and fondness conflicted across the bond, struggling to coexist. He stepped forward, the green cloth tunic he’d found in one of the drawers of your room stretched unfairly tight across his chest. It was the largest he could find in a hurry, and it was nearly enough to distract you from your own anxieties.

“I think…” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, drawing you into an embrace that you melted into easily. “That I’m scared for you. I’m confused as hell what this means, and I’m guessing this isn’t going to make your life any easier or less complicated. But… I’m also proud of you.”

You could sense the pride easily, but Bucky was trying to bury the fear that was close to terror. He truly was scared of what this meant. You were too, and the Ancient One’s words weighed heavily on your shoulders.

There was a questioning feeling tugging at your thoughts, and you remembered too late that Bucky could sense the same anxiety, even if he didn’t have all the details. So you smoothed out your tumultuous thoughts and covered them the best way you knew how.

“You say that to all the wizard girlfriends.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“That is what swords do.”

Bucky pulled back far enough to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but when he touched his horns to yours it was with such gentleness that you nearly forgot to breathe. But breathe you did, drinking in his familiar, soothing scent and allowed the tension to drain from your muscle.

“We should head back.” Bucky said after a moment of intimate, comfortable silence in which you finally relaxed. “Got a bastard to catch.”

You reluctantly let go first, knowing he was right and you couldn’t stay here forever. Turning toward the sword hilt, you reached for it and paused. You took a small detour and picked up an old, ratty cloth nearby and carefully wrapped the relic within. Until you had a better grasp of how to wield the sword, it was probably a wiser idea to not handle it directly. You had no idea if it was sentient like Strange’s cloak, and it would be better not to accidentally set it off. Slicing off your own leg was a poor way to convince anyone that you were the next Ancient One.

On your journey back down the halls toward the portal door, Bucky said, “So… what are you going to name it?”

He smiled at your sideways glance.

“All cool swords get a name. It’s kind of a universal rule.”

Maybe you didn’t know Bucky as well as you thought you did, because you had no idea he was such a damn nerd.

“Yeah? You’ll have to bestow all your sword knowledge on me.”

“Is that a sexual innuendo?”

“It is now.”

Bucky’s smile died on his lips when you were no longer at his side. He paused and looked back where you had stopped at the threshold to the portal room.

“What if I can’t do this?” The doorway before you was no longer just a doorway. It was an insurmountable hurdle, and your feet wouldn’t budge from the floor. “What if I fail?”

Bucky approached slow and steady, his expression gentle and fond.

“You won’t. You’re too stubborn to fail.” A warm hand softly cupped your cheek, his human one, and you leaned into it. He laughed silently at your predictable need to be touched, but his expression faded into something more serious. “But on the very slim chance you do, then you get back up and you start again. Just as you always have.”

Your stomach fell. Bucky couldn’t understand what failure meant in your case. You didn’t even know what it meant, but you could guess. If you failed to be the Ancient One everyone needed… then there might not be any second chances.

Bucky wrapped you in his arms one more time, undoubtedly sensing his words of encouragement hadn’t hit as effectively as he’d wanted.

“Whatever this means, you finding that relic… Whatever happens when we find Zemo...” Bucky’s voice was deep in his chest, a rumbling sound that never failed to comfort you. “I’ll be here.”

You returned his embrace, gripping him tightly as you pressed your cheek against his chest.

“I know.”

And you did, too. Bucky would be there for you. Not because he was compelled to be, and not out of a sense of duty or guilt to protect you. He would be by your side by choice.

And that fact made Zemo’s escape, the Ancient One’s words, and your own self-doubt a little easier to bear. Because you and Bucky would weather it.

Together.

“When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful.” –David Bowles

#branded #demon!bucky x reader #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

[cinnaminsvga]

intermission • vi | moonlight

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jungkook) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none!! it's just jungkook being a cutie!! → words: 3.7K → a/n: this intermission chapter was actually written by @jincherie!! i'm posting it on her behalf since she's currently on hiatus. she had this chapter mostly finished a few months ago and we were waiting to post it until we were both more active (lol) but yeah... things change i guess... anyway see you guys next year (i wanna say /j but really... is it really /j...)

— • masterlist | prev | intermission vi | next • —

Jungkook's strength has never been making friends.

In his mother’s words, a “pleasant and sweet boy” though he might be, that didn’t help much when it came to meeting someone new and the storm of butterflies in his stomach would grow so strong that it froze his limbs and caught his tongue. He’s not too good at first impressions.

A “pleasant and sweet, but terribly shy boy” is actually more along the lines of how Jungkook’s mother describes him, now that he thinks about it. That’s probably a little more accurate.

The sprawling complex he lives in is full of kids, and Jungkook knows each and every one of them. He might be challenged in the social area, but his mother is anything but. She says he takes more after his father, and since his father is usually relaxing inside and reading or drawing when Jungkook sees him at home, he figures that makes enough sense.

Every time someone new moves into the complex, Jungkook’s mother goes to greet them. Of course, he is graciously asked (read: forced) to come along too, just in case they have any kids around his age. This is how he normally meets the other kids on the block. It’s fine, he can’t complain. He has to admit it’s nice meeting all the new and different people that come through. His family is probably one of the ones that have stayed in the complex this long.

When the house next door is emptied of the family he knew, it’s a while before the next one comes in. By the time Jungkook peeks out his window one morning, woken by the telltale sound of a truck beeping as it reverses, and finally sees some movement in the house next to his own, his mother isn’t home. She’d moved into the hospital just a few days earlier, looking ready to pop with the little brother he’d heard so much about in her belly. He’s excited to meet his little brother, and now as he stands on his tippy-toes to get a good look from the window, he finds himself a little excited to meet the new neighbours, too.

It only has a little bit to do with the great, big, fluffy dog they have. Just a little.

It takes a few days for them to move in fully. Jungkook watches from his window every now and then, seeing all sorts of different cars come through. This family has lots of helpers, he notices. By the time they seem to really settle in, Jungkook doesn’t see much of them. Actually, to his disappointment, he doesn’t see anyone around at all. He still hears the dog, glimpses it every so often, but realised that they probably walk it in the mornings before he wakes up.

His mother is home before long, his baby brother cradled in her arms. The first thing she asks as she steps through the door is, “Have the new neighbours moved in? Have you met them yet, Kookie?”

This is perhaps the first time all week he hasn’t cared about the neighbours-- he’s transfixed with his brother. It stays that way for a few days, until the allure wears off when the tiny baby won’t stop crying at night. Perhaps his little brother is something best loved from afar for now, Jungkook surmises.

Back to the window he goes – except this time, there’s actually something to see.

There’s a child! A combination of nerves and excitement bubbles within him as he sees a kid in the backyard playing with the dog, throwing a Frisbee for the massive puppy to leap up and catch in its mouth. The kid looks a little…. feral. Like the baby from that one funny caveman movie he watched with his parents. They’re rolling around with the puppy, uncaring of the way grass and dirt get on their clothes and tangle their hair-- they laugh the whole time. It takes a second for the sound to reach him, but when it does it makes his heart do something funny in his chest.

Ah, the neighbour's kid is a girl.

It’s you.

Jungkook has always been a little more shy around girls, but has never known why. To meet you, he’s going to need his mother there for backup. This is probably the first time he’s outright wanted to go meet one of the neighbours. It’s a little embarrassing, so he elects not to think about it too much.

He thought he would have to pester his mother more to get up and go greet them, but it seems she’s a little sick of being in the house so much because she jumps up the second he mentions it. His baby brother is graciously asleep when they make the trip one morning to the house next door, nestled in his mothers arms looking like an angel wrapped up in fluffy clouds. Jungkook wonders if you’ll like his brother as much as he does. If you don’t, then he doesn’t know how good of a friend you’re going to be.

The doorbell is different, it’s the first thing he notices about the house. Your family must have changed it when you moved in. It’s a bubbly, fun tune now, and he doesn’t even realise the smile it brings to his face. His grip on his mother’s hand tightens, but he misses the fond look she casts over him.

When the door opens, Jungkook thinks his nerves just might eat him alive. He’s so stiff he’s worried he might turn to stone and disintegrate into dust on the spot.

It’s you who answered the door.

You don’t look as wild and unkempt as you did that day he saw you from the window. Actually, your hair is in two cute little buns on top of your head and there isn’t a spot of dirt or grime on your overalls.

The way your eyes light up when you see him and his mother, as well as the baby held to her chest, is enough to make him forget to breathe for a moment. When he remembers, he feels like running his head into the pole of the awning.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mother greets, that big smile on her face that normally wins everyone over. “We’re from the house next door! We wanted to come say hello and meet you. Are one of your parents home too?”

“Hello!” Your response is instant, and the smile you return is so big Jungkook can easily see the gap where you’re missing a tooth. It seems like you’re beating him, he hasn’t lost that one yet. “Yeah, my mama’s home-- you should come in! She said she wanted to meet you guys! Oh, also, we have a puppy! She’s big, and actually maybe she’s too old to be a puppy but… she’s cute. I want you to see her!”

You’re rambling, but you don’t seem to realise. Jungkook couldn’t get a word in edgewise if he wanted to, but he finds himself more than happy to simply listen as he and his mother follow you into the house.

Your mother isn’t as wild as you, but he notices the same little sparkle in her eyes that you have in yours. He wonders if he and his mother have their own matching sparkle. That would be cool.

Right away, his mother hits it off with yours – two socialites of a feather, it seems. You fawn over his baby brother for a few minutes while they talk (he knew right then that you were a good one), before grabbing him by the sleeve and insisting on showing him around. You get a full tour in, and miraculously Jungkook finds it in himself to ask a few questions as you go.

“S-so, you like it? Here?” Every time he opens his mouth the words don’t come out how he wants them, but he can’t do anything now. At least he only stuttered once.

“Yes! It’s so much better than my old house! There’s so many more kids here, and they’re all so nice too!” You’re more than happy to blabber on, a hand thoughtlessly carding through the long, fluffy fur on your dog’s back. Jungkook’s own hand is doing the same (the fur is just as soft and fluffy as he imagined). “There’s more room for Poopie to play, too.”

Jungkook still isn’t quite used to the name of your pet, but something more important in what you said is taking hold of his attention. “Wait, you, uh… you’ve met some of the other kids?”

“Yep,” you say, gaze off in the distance as you try to summon them all from your memory. “Not all of them, but some! Um, I think one of them is named…. Chanyeol…? He lives down the street. Then there’s-- …”

A queasy feeling fills his stomach. He thinks it might be disappointment. For some reason, he thought he was going to come in here and be the first kid you met, that he was going to tell you all about the complex, maybe show you down the street. If you turned out to be a real good egg, then he had even planned to show you his secret place. But now that he thinks about it, it’s a bit silly to think that none of the other families would have come to greet you by now. You’ve been here for more than a week, after all.

He had a good time when visiting you, but for some reason after that day, he finds himself hanging back a bit. He wants to go out and play with you and the other kids, but when he sees you getting along with them so well he’s reminded of that queasy feeling from that day and he stays inside. Which, oddly enough, makes him feel even worse. He feels like no matter what he does, he’s losing progress with you. Maybe you won’t even want to play with him at all, you might think he’s boring after having so much fun with the other kids.

“You gonna go out and play, Kookie?” his mother catches him staring out the living room window one afternoon. She’s bouncing his brother on her hip, the demon baby sated for the time being. “There’s still plenty of time before dark.”

“No, I’m okay,” he answers, hating himself a little bit for it. Why was it so hard to say that yes, he wanted to play, but also that he didn’t. He thinks his mother would be able to help, but he has no idea how to tell her his woes. “I think I might draw a little.”

“Okay, sweets.” She comes over and ruffles his hair. “But if you do decide to go out and play, just let me know so I know where you are, okay?”

He nods, and she leans to kiss his hair before wandering back into the depths of the house. Maybe he will do some drawing, he ponders. It might distract him from the sight of you getting along so well with all the other kids.

Jungkook’s strength has never lain in being outgoing. This proves itself over the months when his attempts to grow closer and befriend you turn out unsuccessful, without fail.

You’ve made a good space for yourself amongst the kids of the block. You’re nice, caring and understanding, and never mean – sure you pushed Chanyeol off the seesaw once, but that was because he was being mean to Suzie. He didn’t do it again afterwards, and peace was maintained in the playground in the park at the end of the complex. Your friendship is sought-after, and with the beginning of the school year looming so close he’s running out of time to establish a friendship between the two of you.

When he spends an afternoon riding his bike at the end of the street, looping around and through the park, it’s definitely not just because you’re sitting there with some of the other girls on the block. When he summons all the knowledge stored in his brain from watching those bike tournaments and attempts to do a little trick, it’s definitely not because he thinks you might be watching. If you happen to see and think he’s cool, then it is what it is. It’s not like he’s actually trying to impress you or anything.

It goes okay, for the most part. His legs are a little tired though. He probably shouldn't attempt the trick he’s thinking of next, but he swears he sees you glance his way and he feels a surge of confidence flow through him. He attempts it.

He botches it.

The bike clatters to the ground and he rolls a bit, but his knees take the brunt of his meeting with the concrete path.

Lucky he wasn’t trying to impress you, because that was pretty humiliating. Lucky you probably didn’t see, either. His knees burn and he feels tears prick at his eyes, probably not just from the pain. He feels so embarrassed, so dumb. He’s touched his bike five times since he got it for his birthday last year, why did he think he would be able to do awesome tricks on it? Dumb, so dumb. He flees the scene before anyone can notice what happened, and completely forgets his bike.

He’s made it all the way home before he even realises it, his vision blurred from the tears that just won’t stop falling and his knees still singing in pain each time he bends them. He almost goes inside, craving a hug from his mother and her gentle hands on his wounds, but then he realises she would ask what happened, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to tell her. It’s too embarrassing. He’s so embarrassed.

So he bypasses the front door, going around the side and slipping through the gate. There’s a tree that lines the side of the house where his window is, and it’s so tall it reaches well above the roof. Without pause, he climbs it, hands finding familiar grooves. He halts, hissing at the sudden sting – it would seem he’s scraped up his palms, too. His eyes burn with the added humiliation and he darts up the tree, making quick work of the climb until he reaches his special spot.

The roof of his house is mostly slanted, but there’s a flat bit at the very top on one side of the house. This is where he likes to go. No one ever looks for him here, plus the view is always very pretty. He doesn’t appreciate the sunset right now, though. He feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

The whole way home, Jungkook held in his cries. He didn’t want anyone to hear and tell his mother. But now, in the embrace of his little ‘safe haven’, he lets them out. He buries his head in his arms and sobs, the pain of moving his palms only making it worse.

He doesn’t know how his little body can handle so much embarrassment, let alone so many tears, but for the moment he doesn’t think about it and surrenders himself to his woes.

He must be up there for a while before his crying ceases. By the time he lifts his head, the last of his tears drying against his cheeks, the sun is just beginning to disappear beyond the horizon. It’s pretty, how it casts light around the shadowy silhouette of the city buildings in the distance. He kind of wants to show it to you. That thought is quickly shut down. He’s going to ask his mother if they can move cities so he doesn’t have to face you again.

Alas, the world just doesn’t seem to be working in his favour today. He hears the rustling of the tree before he sees it. By the time he looks over to investigate, you’re already clambering onto the roof, an oversized fanny pack bursting at the seams with whatever you’ve shoved inside slung over your shoulder.

“Hey!” You greet with a smile, apparently oblivious to the dumbstruck look on his face. “Man, it took forever to find you! If I didn’t see you from the window in my room, I never would have known where you went!”

That was the idea, he laments. He hadn’t wanted to be found.

“Anyway,” you say, plopping down a foot away from him, safely away from the edge of the roof. You swing the fanny pack around so the zip is at your front, and rip it open. Immediately, a tsunami of bandages and band-aids flow forth, fluttering to the tile before you. They’re all sorts of different sizes, but one thing is common across them all – they all have pikachu’s face plastered on them in one way or another. “These are my special band-aids! My mama uses them when I hurt myself, and they always make it heal really quick! I didn’t know how big your owie is, so I brought them all.”

Jungkook is still stunned into silence as you sort through them, organising the chaos at least a little. One of your buns has come loose, he notes. One pigtail, one bun. You look a little more like that wild child he first saw from his window. The knees of your overalls are smeared with dirt, too. He wonders if it got like that while you were looking for him. It makes him feel a little warm inside.

And a little warm outside – his cheeks are starting to burn. He doesn’t remember scratching them too, but maybe he did…?

“Let’s see…” you’re practically just holding a conversation with yourself at this point. He surrenders his leg without protest as you grab it to inspect his knee. “Yep. That’s a big ‘un.”

His whole face has lit on fire. Even his ears feel hot. Is that normal? Probably not. He’d have to ask his mother to take him to the doctor. Maybe he’s dying.

He notices how close you are suddenly, realises this is the first time you’ve been fully alone together (without Poopie), and suddenly he can’t think. Like, at all. He may as well not have a tongue because he can’t remember how to use it anyway.

Somewhere amongst the bandages you’d shoved some tissues. You pull them out now, gently clearing the dirt away from the wounds on his knees. You’re talking as you do it, but his brain is full of static. Your hands are even tinier than his. Is that normal? Wait, no-- they’re the same size. What is he doing…?

Is he going to get in trouble for being alone with a girl…? His mother hasn’t told him about the birds and bees like she said she would yet-- is that what this is? Will he turn into a bird if he gets any warmer? Jungkook doesn’t want to be a bird.

You are placing large plasters over his knees when he finally tunes in to what you’re saying. “… -that last trick was pretty cool, too. It would have been even cooler if you didn’t fall.”

Jungkook squeaks, “You saw that?”

You nod, apparently unaware of his utter humiliation. “Yeah! You’re pretty good on a bike. Can you teach me sometime? I want to show my dad.”

He makes a noise that sounds enough like an affirmation that you accept it, a big grin on your face. For a few more minutes, you finish patching him up.

“There! All done!”

Pikachu stares back up at him from his knees, looking a little wonky because of their shape. The band-aids are a bit wrinkled, but you look so proud of yourself he forces himself to ignore it. He looks up, the words of thanks he took so much courage to summon dying on the tip of his tongue as he sees you.

The setting sun changes the colour of your eyes a bit – it’s pretty, he finds himself thinking. Immediately afterwards, he blushes. Even more embarrassingly, he finds himself unable to help but observe that the sun suits you, actually. Bright, persistent, a little bit sparkly. In the sun’s last reaching rays of afternoon light, you look a bit like you’re glowing.

Of course, Jungkook is used to his silence, but it seems you’re only just noticing it. You seem to misunderstand it’s cause. “Oh, do they hurt?”

Your words tear him from his reverie, and the startled look on his face doesn’t exactly help his case. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise they were that bad-- oh! I almost forgot the next step! My mum always does this whenever I hurt myself.”

Then, without a second spared for him to prepare himself, you lean over and plant a kiss on each of his bandaged knees.

Jungkook thinks he might explode. The entire neighbourhood is going to see him take off and zip through the sky like a rocket. His earlier thoughts of moving cities and changing his name come back full force.

“There, they hurt less now, right?” But you’re still grinning, still bright as ever with shining eyes hoping for a certain response. Despite himself he takes a moment to assess the level of pain he’s feeling – oddly enough, it does feel a bit better.

There’s no way he can manage to say that, though.

Instead he nods, wide-eyed. You let loose a sigh of relief, muttering about how you didn’t know what you’d do if that didn’t work. He swears he catches the slightest warmth in your cheeks, but doesn’t know whether it’s a trick of the sun.

“Thanks,” he finally manages, his voice just shy of a whisper. You hear him anyway and flash that gap-tooth smile his way.

“Of course! This is what friends are for!”

You think of him as a friend? Jungkook can’t help the dumb smile that rises to his face. He likes that. Friends. As the two of you stay on the roof until moonlight begins to filter through the tree and your parents are calling your name, he thinks he’d like for things to stay that way.

He’d like to be friends with you. Always.

#btsghostie #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #i dont even remember how to tag HAJDHASJ i havent posted a fic in so LONG #anyway yall thought fox rain was dead but i guess she lives for one day... next chapter is gonna kill me tho but im excited!! #see you sooner than later i hope lmao

[harbingers-appointed]

I am absolutely thriving with everything I'm learning about your AU ! I also have a couple of questions :)

You said the MC's soul was sent to hell while they were comatose, does that mean their physical body still remains in the mortal realm ?

If there is a Hell, is there also a Heaven ? And would Fuboo be God then ? Since YB is her son/creation...

Also, I suppose MC has an influence on Don's rebellion ? Whenever it is to stop or encourage it...

And how many of YB's subjects are currently doubting him and his rule ? And for what reasons would they think this power has "corrupted" him (a funny notion coming from demons) ? Is he a strict, unfair, too ruthless ?

As King of Hell, is YB the strongest of all demons ? Could Don or TK stand up to him ? Can he even be killed ?

Sorry if I'm asking too much 😅

I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying my little idea~ !♡ but oh wow there are a lot of questions so bear with me while I try my best to explain some answers!

Alright so as for Mc's soul being sent to hell, yes that does mean their physical body remains "alive" though some of the demons may argue that. You will have to be careful in who you trust since there will be different explanations given for why you've ended up where you are...

"Heaven" or a "eternal paradise" will be mentioned. Some of the demons will deny its existence completely, while others will admit to It being real- but never having seen it... I dont want to spoil everything yet. (; also I don't want to base this AU completely off of standard Heaven and Hell concepts, but there will be lots of similarities and references (such as the 9 circles for example.) But also my own take of what demons are and why they exist.

Considering this Au is under my control entirely, I like to think I'd be the New GOD (: I get to write whatever sick ideas I want and none of the characters have a choice on my decisions. ( However, credit is due to Fuboo for making the original game and characters of course!)

Yes, Mc's decisions will determine what happens with Don's rebellion. I am not sure how many "branching paths" I'd want. But I like to think if MC hears tell of Don's secret plans and they are devoted to YB, they would have the option of telling Yb... You can imagine where that would go. On the other hand, perhaps Don witnesses some of the ways Yb is treating MC and how Mc is struggling, wanting to be free. Perhaps he feels empathy towards You, or maybe you're just an opportunity to get to Yb since he clearly is obsessed with you.

I imagine that 1/4 of his subjects aren't pleased with his way of ruling, but most are likely too uncaring to ever consider rebelling or they have old fashioned views. As for thinking on why he is corrupted? I like to think that Yb has been their ruler for forever and yet all the Demons are still trapped in Hell and most don't know why. YB had become less caring in recent millennia, apathetic even to the struggles of his race. His great age and being the "First Demon" or "Orginal" demon leading some to believe just because he is old doesnt mean he has their best interests to heart. That he has changed because of his age(like growing crazed, or senile), and is not that "all knowing and kind ruler" he used to be(or was he ever~?). I want to make it clear that "Demons" is a loose term in this AU and are not inherently all "Evil". Though it is up to MC to come to their own conclusion on this. They will still do some "evil" things, but they are not humans so how is it fair to hold them to the same standards of "good and bad"?

YB's power is up for debate, in a head to head fight against Don for example Yb would have the upper hand. Don was by his side when he originally "fell" so they both know each others history pretty well, tactics, fighting style and such too. If Don wanted to win against YB he would need to sway more of the demons on his side and find a way to dampen his HellFire abilities/lower YB's defenses.. (The blue flames I like to think would be able to completely kill a demon permanently and is an ability only the King can possess). YB could be "killed" in a sense, but it would be difficult. Someone more worthy would have to be able to claim his powers- as for how? Well, you'll just have to wait and see... As for Tk vs YB? They wouldn't last In a fight with him. However Tk's knowledge and connections is where their strength lays. (Tk knows more about YB in recent times such as what YB has in plan for MC, while Don knows more about how he was originally... just for anyone whi asks what the difference between their knowledge is)

Alright I think that's an answer to everything (;

Sorry I can't give 100% solid answera right now, as I am still coming up with ideas for the AU. (Also it wouldn't be fun if I gave everything away...;))

I Absolutely love getting asks so don't be afraid to ask questions! Keep in mind some information may change as I develop the AU more (: I really think this would make a fun interactive story hahaha, I'm kind of bursting with ideas.

#y0urb0yfriend #your boyfriend #yourboyfriend #yourboyfriendgame #DemonKingYbAu #DkAsk

[luminari-mc]

please expand on the dream if you’re comfortable?

I shall! I'll put everything under a cut however cause I ended up writing as much details as I could remember. Also it kinda feels like it could be an AU to me? You be the judge!

So huh, yes. The depressing dream feat. MC, Mammon and Lucifer:

--------------------------------------

So... I'm not sure if I was supposed to be myself or my MC in this dream, but based on how I was speaking throughout it, I'm gonna think it was the latter so I'm gonna refer to my point of view as MC's.

Basically the human world was supposed to meet its end very soon, probably because of an impending doom/apocalypse that was fated to happen ever since the beginnings of time probably. MC was with Lucifer in the human world, both awaiting the world's fate, and Lucifer had explained that no humans could be saved from this apocalypse since it wasn't allowed. So they were trying to spend as much time as possible with each other before it eventually happened, because Lucifer couldn't go against ancient rules and save one human when the rest of them would go extinct. All other people had either left the area, or were hiding in their own homes. Nobody was outside, it was just MC and Lucifer.

MC then sees that Mammon is like, super pissed and totally not as lovable as he was before because he's practically threatening them with the sharp edges of his wings (and I'm pretty sure a knife) not to try and get away from him. They fly away for a while, passing buildings and then neighborhood houses, and during their flight, MC attempts to soften him a bit but it doesn't really work because Mammon simply ignores them.

At some point, when they were hanging in a park, a strange but loud noise resonated from somewhere nearby, and it scared MC so much that they started begging Lucifer to leave the park. Lucifer was pretty unresponsive, his eyes wide open and staring in the direction where the noise had come from, before finally deciding to move at the last second while MC was already making their way out of the park. Suddenly you have a demon-form Mammon flying down adn trying to snatch MC from the ground, pretty aggressively might I add. MC was surprised and afraid of his behavior because no matter how much they asked him what he was doing, he would just try again and again to get them, so they attempted to avoid him by crouching near the ground. But right as Lucifer was about to get to them, Mammon snatches them and flies away.

They land in someone's backyard. Theres a bear. Don't ask why, it's not relevant to the story but that's how you know it was a dream I guess.

Once they land, MC still tries to be affectionate with Mammon because they can see he's upset about something. Later, Lucifer arrives, and he's able to tell Mammon to chill. All three sit on a bench, at that point it's a bit of a blur on what they do precisely, but none of them dare to speak, it's just the silence and pretty soon, thundering sounds in the distance echoing from the sky that settles between them. MC is really deep into thinking about how the human race's doom, and therefore their own, is going to happen in a short bit (they and Lucifer were literally just waiting for it to happen earlier), and MC tries to convince each of them to let them stay alive. Even if Mammon is unresponsive, you could feel how hard he was trying not to cry and to give in to the temptation.

Disgusted by how things have to be, Mammon goes and walks away a bit, while Lucifer keeps MC by their side. They wrap their arms around him and ask him "if it's really not possible for them to become a demon?" so they can stay with him. Lucifer hesitantly wraps his own arms around their frame before saying "is that what you'd really want?", and unfortunately that's where the dream stopped.

#as my friend said 'that's the most horrible cliffhanger you could have gotten' #and i gotta agree with them #like what happens next? maybe next dream? probably unlikely lol but I want to know what they all do :( #also I have to mention how weird it was to be in mc's shoes during this because I could see everything from a 1rst person POV #and I actually could feel the brothers' emotions? by seeing their facial expressions and the way their jaws clenched #especially when MC kept asking if it wasn't possible for them to be kept alive so they could stay with them or to become a demon #I just really loved that dream and the plot behind it #vel's anons #vel's asks #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer

[jungkookiebus]

Hellblazer Final | jjk

Genre: demon!au, smut, some angst, fluff (???) Rating: 18+ Pairing: demon!jungkook x FemConstantine!reader ft. Beezlebub!Hobi (briefly) Word Count: 5.9k Warnings: dom!jungkook, mentions of suicide (brought up previously), oral (f receiving), lots of bodily fluids, light breath play, unprotected sex, ass play, there is a blood ritual of sorts (use of a knife to cut hand for said ritual), more of Jungkook’s body parts warm up (yes, his cock does it again).

“You're quite alone. I'm... well, I'm just like everything else around here. Just like you, really. Just another dream becoming a nightmare.” -John Constantine, Prime Earth

You awoke again, not even realizing that you had fallen asleep. This time he was gone. The space beside you was cold and vacant. You sat up, groaning, because you felt like you had the shit beat out of you. But for some reason, you had never felt better. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you softly slipped down off it. You kept a steadying hand on the bed because being in bed for months did you no favors but you had a nagging feeling that the short amount of time you seemed to be here, he was healing you a lot faster.

The room was warmed by the fire and you noticed the spear was gone. Looking around, this room wasn’t unlike others, minus the grey cast, and there was no clear indication you were even in Hell. Except for the feeling. Hell had a way of feeling different.

Trying the door handle, it gave way easily, swinging open with no sound at all. The hallway beyond was just as dark and lit with candles that were melting around the twisted metal. The soft, grey glow barely illuminated to the middle of the hallway. The floor was lined with expensive rugs that protected the black, shiny wood beneath. Hideous portraits and scenes lined the walls. Many seemed to be sneering at you from the darkness. There were no sounds, which made it all the eerier. There was no draft, no distant conversation, or the occasional scream. One end of the hall curved towards the right, so you decided to take that direction since the other way was lined with doors that seemed to stretch on for forever. There were many illusions in Hell because you had encountered them. You didn’t think the House of Satan would be any different. Moving slowly, you kept to the carpet and tried not to look at the pictures on the walls. As you made the curve in the hallway you saw it open wide on the left into what appeared to be a very large room. From where you were you saw bookshelves lining the walls and you heard what sounded like a very large fire burning. You approached even slower as you looked around the corner. The room seemed to be a large sitting room and library with a very large fireplace. The sculptures on it were ornate; large golden serpents twisted amongst the branches of an apple tree and above that in stone was a visage of purgatory. Someone was sitting on a long leather couch, back to you, and engrossed in a book. He appeared to be in a suit, hair meticulously done, and slicked back with an undercut. When his hand came up to turn the page you recognized a very familiar tattoo you had seen on numerous occasions. You stepped into the room with a little more confidence now.

“Hello, Bee.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice came out in a croak.

He turned around smoothly as if he expected you to be there and narrowed his eyes at you.

“He let you out?” he chuckled.

“I woke up alone, so I walked out.”

He clicked his tongue and whistled before turning back to his book.

“He won’t be too happy about that,” he said as he crossed his leg over the other and picked the book back up closer to his face.

“Bee, what’s going on?”

He sighed as he sat the book back down on the couch.

“Why do I engage you ever, Hellblazer?”

“Because you’re my favorite Prince,” you said jokingly.

He had up until you met him, been your favorite. He was the only one you could hold a civil conversation with when it came to your dealings in Hell. He didn’t seem to hold as much disdain for you as everyone else did.

“Sit down.”

“And where is everyone?”

“You say that as if you live here and this place is usually bustling with life. I can assure you that this place is just as hopeless as it looks. Abandon all hope and whatever else.” He said it flippantly and with a wave of a hand as if he were bored of the subject. “Hellblazer, there is a war happening. He’s taken the General for his own and is using his military power to control his armies.”

“Heaven won’t stand a chance against him.”

“That’s the point.”

“So, why am I here?”

He screwed his face up as he looked at you like you had grown an extra head.

“How should I know? I thought maybe he was just playing with his food.”

You hadn’t thought of that. But why keep you alive and heal you? There must be some reason he was doing all of this.

“Not all of Heaven can be taken out of a celestial being.”

“Excuse me?”

“If he does what I think he’s gonna do, then you’ll see.” He winked at you as he picked up his book once more. “You’ll probably want to get back to his room before he gets back.”

You tried to bore holes into the side of his head with your eyes, but you knew he wasn’t going to relent and give you any more information. Huffing, you stood from the couch, and left him to his reading. When you rounded the curve this time, the hallway didn’t stretch into infinity, but made a ninety degree turn to the left a few doors down from his room. Yet another illusion to throw off any would be intruders. You slipped back into the room to find it just as you had left it.

With nothing to do but wait, you fell back on the bed and resigned yourself to staring at the velvet drapes of the four poster bed. Just when you felt yourself slipping into sleep, the air pressure in the room changed as the door was opened. You sat up suddenly to see who was in the room with you when you saw him. He was adorned in golden armor, it looked so thin yet impenetrable, as it laid over itself almost like a dragon scale pattern. The breastplate was adorned in filigree and gems that caught the light of the fireplace and made him shine in the dull light. The golden spear was grasped firmly in his right hand and planted on the floor.

“I see you feel better,” he finally spoke. “Are you hungry?”

Your stomach growled at the suggestion of food. He laughed as he pointed behind you and beyond into the room. You turned to see a table laden with food that hadn’t been there before.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, turning back around.

“I told you you’d be better off in Hell,” he said as he moved to place the spear in its place by the fireplace. “You should eat.”

You got up from the bed and walked over to the table. There were several types of roasted meat, vegetables, pastries, breads, and some other things you didn’t recognize. Grabbing a piece of bread, you popped it into your mouth and turned back around to see him now in his standard black suit, sitting in a chair by the fire and a leg thrown over the arm of the chair. He looked casual, but you could also tell he was on edge. You gestured towards him and then to the spear.

“’War’ things?” you asked as you threw up one hand in air quotes.

He studied your face before speaking. “This is a lot more serious than you think, _____.”

“So, what happens then?” You grabbed a few more things off the table before walking over and taking the chair across from him.

You had woken up in a simple, long black shirt and you didn’t feel the need to change it in your wanderings. Not that you had any more clothes packed away for Hell. His eyes shifted to your thighs as you sat, the shirt moving ever so slightly up your legs. He licked his lips and you grabbed the hem, pulling it down and placed your food on your lap.

He looked at you now if you had just asked a ridiculous question.

“Heaven falls.”

You shuddered. There had always been a balance between good and evil and even though evil peeked through a little bit more, it was never enough to be of concern. You had never lived in such an imbalance and honestly it scared you.

“How can you be sure?”

“He lost his best asset.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Don’t I have to be?” He produced a glass of wine from somewhere and started to sip the red liquid slowly.

“Are you scared?”

The question caught him off guard as his eyes flashed to yours. The dull light of the fire burned in his eyes and at first you thought he was going to be angry with you. He took a few more sips, face turned back to the fire, but he hadn’t answered you yet, so you decided to wait. You took small bites of the food in your lap, but you were slowly losing interest.

“You humans are so sentimental when it comes to relationships,” he started.

Maybe angels didn’t have feelings quite like you did, but you guessed that he felt something.

“In the infancy of Heaven, none of us felt anything. We were meant to protect the human race and that was it. No feelings, no opinions. Just blind trust that He would tell us the right thing.” He swirled the wine in the glass absently, leg still casually thrown over the arm of the chair. “But we soon discovered that He didn’t have our best interest in heart and Lucifer was just the first to say something. I felt like a coward as I stood by, Lucifer defying Him in such a way. I agreed with him, but I was too afraid to say anything and then…” He trailed off looking solemn as his hand stilled, head hung low, and bottom lip jutted out in almost a pout.

You held on to the plate tightly, engrossed in a story that was known to millions, but you were here hearing it firsthand.

“He made me banish him,” he said softly. His voice was mournful, laced in regret. “I remember the look in his eyes when He told me to send him out of the gates.” He lifted the glass and emptied it. “I betrayed Lucifer because I was too afraid to say anything. He put up a fight too. It was a thunderous event. Days afterwards, the skies were black, and Heaven remained dark. He assured me I had done the right thing, but I knew I hadn’t. It just took me this long to defy him myself. The fact that Lucifer was willing to take me was just fortunate.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking. “What would you have done if he didn’t?”

He shrugged without looking at you.

“Why did you mark me?”

At that, he looked at you again. He swung his leg off the arm and sat forward, elbows on his knees as he still held the glass in his hands. He stared at you pensively, searching your face again.

“I’m protecting you.”

“From what? Why?” In your moments awake at the Vatican, the Pope had instructed you of your new mark on your skin.

“I’m protecting you from the aftermath this war might, and will likely, have. When Heaven falls, Earth will be swarmed with demons and they’re not going to be merciful. People will be taken as slaves, killed, and made to live in a waking nightmare. Hell will extend to Earth because Lucifer wants to expand his kingdom. It’s nothing personal against humans.”

“Then why?”

He pursed his lips together, eyes flitting to the fire, and they shined brightly. He switched the glass from hand to hand.

“That one is a little harder to explain.”

“Then try. I’m just a human after all.” You said it with some disdain. He acted so casually as if basically wiping out humans was just something he did every once in a while.

“I get your apprehension about me.”

“Yea,” you said, getting emboldened and a little angrier, “you’ve brought me here twice and just dumped me at home with no explanation, completely confused, and then dying in the middle of the fucking Vatican. I’d like some type of answer as to why I’m marked by two denizens of Hell now without so much as ask-“

You were cut off by the shattering of the wine glass as it hit the floor. He came forward, dropped to his knees in front of your chair, swiped the plate off your lap, grabbed your face, and pulled your lips to his.

He didn’t answer because the answer scared him.

Your body relaxed further as he kissed you, pain washing out of your muscles, and relaxation settling in its place. It was almost as if being with him was like morphine, dulling any anxieties you had, and it confused you so badly that you were pushing him away. His lips were flushed red and his eyes looked large and almost innocent.

“I don’t understand…,” you trailed off as his hands came to rest on the tops of your thighs.

“Fuck,” he said sitting back on his heels and running his hand through his hair.

Your breath caught as he did so, profile turned to you and face illuminated by the grey fire. His features were in sharp shadow and he was even more devastatingly beautiful.  A whisper of fine, shiny dust emanated from around him. It was iridescent and only eye catching if you looked hard enough, but now that you could see it you couldn’t take your eyes off it. It was heavier behind him where his wings once were, floating outwards and dissipating into the room.

“Not all of Heaven can be taken out of a celestial being.”

Heaven still fell from his shoulders in the form of the beautiful remains of who he once was.

His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “At first, it was mild curiosity. The Hellblazer,” he laughed. “A human who sold her soul to the Devil, banishing demons, and had even killed herself once.”

You hated when anyone brought it up. It was a blot to who you were as a person, but it always seemed to be the subject of conversation when you were around a demon. Why were you so special that Lucifer himself spared you? At times, even you couldn’t explain it.

“I wanted to experience you for myself. You were like a beacon in the night. You lit up the darkness and your whole entire being seemed to call to me.”

He seemed to struggle internally on what to say and what not to say. He still didn’t seem to want to look at you, but he sighed and dropped his hands to his knees, head hanging in defeat before he looked up at you.

“I’m not sure how to explain it, ­­­____. I want you. I want every part of you. I want to protect you. I want you to be mine. I want you stay here, but I can’t make you.” He looked up at you pleadingly, stooping to a level he never thought he’d be at. “I can remove the mark.”

Your hand immediately flew to your heart and he followed the action, face falling as yours brightened. But now, your mind was turning, flowing through thoughts and images of your life. You essentially had nothing. You were only trying to redeem yourself through failed exorcisms, wading through life having wished your suicide worked all those years ago. Here, around him, you felt a little less empty. Could you be happy in Hell? Sometimes where you were already felt like Hell, so what could it hurt to go a little deeper?

Your eyes found his and they shone brightly in the muted tones of the room. The soft halo of color around him accentuated his form and he seemed to glow a little brighter. You fell a little deeper the more you looked at him and soon you were slowly leaning towards him. Instinctively, he rose up on his knees just a little, not wanting to assume what you were doing. Your hair fell into your eyes as you leaned a little closer. His hand shot out to catch it and tuck it behind your ear, stunning you into stopping. His hand froze against your cheek as he stared into your wide eyes. Your heart thrummed painfully in your chest. You tried to breath calmly through your nose, but your tense body was giving you away. He stayed still, gauging your reaction, that much you could tell. Everything in your body was pointing you in the right direction, towards him. It was as if your skin was magnetized and it only knew him. You leaned your face into his palm, feeling the heat of his skin against yours and it almost seemed to burn coldly. He closed the space between you, lips connecting with yours gently. He sighed as you reciprocated, bringing his other hand up to your neck as he deepened the kiss. As much as you felt reborn and empowered around him, something was missing. Your whole body seemed to ache with a loss you couldn’t quite place and with a pleasure that only he could stir inside of you. He let go of your face in favor of shoving his hands under your thighs, lifting you as he stood. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he put your legs around his waist, hands sliding to your ass. All the while he was kissing the curve of your jaw and drawing your earlobe between his teeth. You moaned and leaned into him, nestling your face into his neck and kissing the skin there. He breathed heavily against you as he walked and sat you on the edge of the bed, leaning over you so your fell to your back as he continued to kiss you. His hands were all over you body as if he didn’t know what he wanted to touch first. His fingers grazed over your nipples beneath the shirt and he felt them harden under his touch. You moaned, arching your chest upwards towards his but he moved with you and kept his distance. You broke the kiss and grasped at his biceps.

“Please touch me,” you said breathily.

He moaned as he grasped your waist, sliding his hands upwards, pushing your shirt up passed your breasts. You held your arms up as he moved the shirt upwards, pausing to wrap his lips around your nipple and suck it into his mouth before pulling it off the rest of the way.

“Please stay with me,” he whispered back gently into your ear.

His hand was hot on your hip, just above the waistband of your underwear. The other skated up your side causing chills to spread across your skin.

“I will.”

His lips found yours as he ground himself against you.

“Take these off,” he said, snapping the band of your underwear. He stood up and began discarding his clothing to each side of him. He suit jacket hit the floor, followed by his white button down that was thrown somewhere to his left, and this time you let your eyes wander over his tattoos without fear. Many were old, from the time of his creation, to more recent ones after his fall into Hell. He wrapped his inked hands around your calves and pulled you to the edge of the bed, dropping until he was eye level with your dripping cunt.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he said before licking a stripe up your center, causing you to moan. He kept your thighs apart, arms wrapped around them, and his hands grasped firmly against your thighs. “Fuck, I’ll make you mine.” He flicked his tongue over your clit, and you shuddered, hips stuttering against the bed. “You’ll be even more beautiful, even more so than Lilith.” His mouth covered your clit as his eyes met yours in a heated stare. His eyes blackened until the whites were almost gone. Your body heated so hot from the inside out you thought you were about to combust. He leaned back a little, mouth wet and almost dripping. “All of Hell will know who you belong to.”

He dove back between your legs as if some life saving potion were there. You cried out as his tongue teased circles on your clit before dipping down to explore more of you. He was being selfish. He wanted all of you and he wouldn’t feel complete without it. He lapped at you sloppily, pulling you harder and harder into his face. You ground your hips against him, and he moaned. His fingers were digging into your skin until you were sure you’d see bruises tomorrow. Your fingers were in his hair as you began to fuck yourself against his face, feet digging into his shoulder blades. His lips heated up against you and they brushed wetly across every part of you. Even now, you could feel his pout. His left hand now firmly held your ribcage and then he was inched forward and grabbed your breast fully in his hand. His palm heated instantly, causing an entirely different sensation than what you expected. You rutted against his face even harder and soon his teeth were brushing over your sensitive clit, before moving downward to dip his tongue inside of you, his nose stimulating you now. His moans were low, deep, and came from the back of his throat and they seemed to pulse up through your body. His lips warmed even more as he lapped lewdly now. Your hips circled on his face and you dripped down onto the bed no matter how much of you he tried to swallow. Your orgasm struck forcefully, his tongue inside of you to catch every drop. With your body twitching on the bed, he leaned forward, placing kisses against your stomach and kissed the curve of your neck gently.

“I can make you feel whole again,” he said against your skin.

Your entire body was flushed with sweat, totally spent, and muscles now melting into the mattress. But his comment sparked something inside of you. Could he feel it too?

“How?” you asked. Your fingers skated across the scars on his back and then up to his neck where you held on tightly, looking him in the eyes.

“I can give it back to you.”

You didn’t think you’d ever see stars again, agreeing to come to Hell, but his eyes held thousands. They were no longer completely black, but a soft chocolate, reflecting a strange milky way.

“Give me…what?” you whispered, falling into the void that was his gaze.

“Your soul.”

The ache in your chest blossomed and overcame the pleasure you had felt. Now the ache you felt had a name, had a face, and you were looking straight at it. That explained how you felt around him. He heightened everything inside of you that you wanted to have, but he also emphasized the large hole inside of you too; the thing you didn’t really try to think about and what it cost you.

“But…if I get it back won’t I just di­-,” he cut you off with a kiss to the side of your mouth.

“I won’t let you die. I’ll bind your soul to mine.”

Nothing about what he said should have lit the type of fire inside of you like it did. You were hungry for more. For more of him. You turned your face to meet his lips fully, pulling him against you. He was rutting his hips against you, his cock nudging your entrance. You pushed your hips upwards and he moaned as he entered you the slightest bit.

“Make me yours,” you said hotly.

His eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back. He pushed against you a little more forcefully, fully pushing inside of you. He sat up, hand at your throat as he began to thrust a little harder. He didn’t press as hard as he had before, but just enough pressure to make it pleasurable. He watched the pleasure flit across your face as you grabbed his wrist. He brought his other hand to your neck, pressing his thumbs up into your jaw. You were practically drooling as he fucked you, building up that pleasure inside of you as his cock warmed.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he moaned as he pressed into your skin a little harder. You were wet around him, dripping even more onto the sheets below you. He released his grip on your neck, but you kept your eyes closed as he continued to fuck you. Producing a knife, he made a quick cut in his left palm, dropped the knife and dipped his pointer finger into the blood. He pressed it against your skin and your eyes flew open at the hot, wet feeling. Your eyes found his and you could tell he was concentrating, but it didn’t make you afraid. You found yourself falling into the feeling of him once more as he continued to draw across your skin, skillfully sliding into you all the while. It only took a few minutes before he was leaning over you, his hips slowing to a more languid pace, brushing against your clit softly as he pressed against you, careful not to smear the blood.

“Are you ready?” he asked as he kissed your temple.

You nodded, looking at him squarely as he came into you view over you. He looked at you hard for a moment before pressing his hand right over your heart. Pain shot into every nerve ending. It felt as if fire ants crawled across your skin and bit every inch. Flames licked at your toes and you wanted to scream but you couldn’t. He was holding you to the bed as your body begged to move, begged to die. You were hoping the death would be quick. Anything had to be better than this. Soon, your body would shut down as it went into shock and maybe the pain wouldn’t be so bad. The flames began to die out, ice taking its place as a dull chill crept across your skin. It pricked at your fingertips, becoming uncomfortably cold as if you had stuck your hand in ice for too long. You became sleepy, but this was a different kind of sleep. It was almost as if everything were quietly shutting down together. If this was how dying felt it wasn’t so bad. The last time you tried, you hadn’t been able to actually die. It was almost as if you and all the friends you loved laid down together in each other’s arms, sleeping into the beyond. Slowly, your heart began to skip a beat here or there. Your lungs tried just a little harder to draw in air. Your heart skipped every third beat. Your eyelids got heavier and your breathing got shorter. Your body felt heavy as if someone had laid a weighted blanket over you. Your heart beat one more time and then stopped.

Everything came back in a blinding white light. Warmth flushed over your body like a warm river and the feeling came back to your fingers and toes. Your skin no longer burned but felt soothed as if someone had rubbed a healing balm over your entire body. You breathed in deeply and exhaled even longer, life coming back into your lungs. Your heart beat softly in your chest.

What you couldn’t see nor feel, was currently happening before his eyes. He watched with rapt fascination and desire as the same tattoos he bore slowly etched themselves across your skin. Your name spelled out slowly in red lines, also in Hebrew, but it wasn’t your Christian name. Hellblazer. Lucifer’s mark disappeared from your skin as another of his own sigil appeared over your heart then another, upside down, etched itself over the other, signaling the binding of souls.

Your eyes flew open as you inhaled as if coming up for air after being held under the water. The room came into focus in blinding color. Now fully a citizen of Hell, you could see it for its true beauty. Emerald stone fireplace, golden fixtures, dark as midnight velvet curtains, and the fire that burned was the truest red you had ever seen.

He slammed his hips into yours and the pleasure shot back into your limbs causing you to fall instantly into an orgasm.

You finally felt whole. The pull to him even stronger now. It was so strong you were sure he could be millions of miles away and you’d still be able to find him. Fire and passion burned inside of you, in your soul, and you were finally able to feel. The bond even affected him as he shuddered against you, but he kept pounding into you with a force that only hinted at his need for you. He pushed his hands underneath your back and up to your shoulder blades, pulled you upwards, and had the both of you flipped in seconds. You were dazed as you planted your hands on his chest, still sitting on his cock as he adjusted himself beneath you. He slowly ran his hands up your sweaty thighs, fingers tracing over the new lines on your skin. You looked down at your arms, the dark markings too out of focus for you to see what they were right now. Any noticeable scar you had, of which you had many, was now gone. Where there wasn’t a tattoo, your skin was porcelain white and clear of any flaws. Your breathing felt clearer now and the pleasure you felt building up inside of you just by sitting here caused you to shudder. He hissed as you squeezed around him and his fingers dug into your hips.

“Fuck me, baby girl.” He sounded desperate as his head fell back and his eyes closed. His skin shone with sweat and you could see him for the full ethereal beauty he was. He did have a little of Heaven in him still. Dark with light. Good with evil. A demon and an angel. He would never be one without the other.

You rolled your hips against him and he tensed and relaxed all at once as he got what he wanted. He grew hotter inside of you again and your thighs slid easily alongside his as the heat between you built. He sat up, legs still off the side of the bed as he held you close to his chest. You draped your left arm across his shoulders as you braced yourself on his right knee, rolling your hips into his, his hot cock brushing against your g-spot with each circle of your hips. He kissed your throat, bit the skin on your collarbone, and then drew your nipple in his mouth once more. He had handfuls of your ass in both hands, assisting you as you fucked yourself on his cock. He dipped his fingers between your legs from behind, catching the juices that now coated him at each thrust and he traced his fingers around your asshole before pushing one wet finger inside. You hissed, inhaling deeply as he pushed in slowly.

“Keep fucking me, baby,” he said as he kissed the side of your neck.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as your right arm now crossed his back. Your cheek rested on his shoulder as you moved your hips. He moved his finger in rhythm with the bounce of your hips and soon you were moaning harder as you bit into his skin. He pushed another wet finger inside, stretching you in the most pleasurable of ways, pressing against that thin layer of skin that separated him from your g-spot. You clenched hard around him, his hot body pressed against yours, as pleasure ran hot inside of you, coming hard around him as you gushed around his cock. It dripped against his fingers as you made a mess of his lap, fingers still moving slowly in your ass.

“All mine,” he said before licking at the salty sweetness of your skin.

The space between you was wet, but he paid no mind as he pulled his fingers from you, grabbed your ass again and started to use your swollen cunt. You could barely keep your eyes open as you focused all your strength to your thighs, helping him as you clutched at his shoulders, face still nestled in his neck. His breathing quickened and his thighs tensed beneath yours. The bond between you only amplified his pleasure as yours seemed to mix and meld with his. Your orgasm flowed into his nervous system and pleasure flowed outwards from him in waves. He came hard with the memory of your soul binding to his, the same fire burned under his skin. He filled you up and then some, his cum even warmer than his cock as you physically felt it spill out around him, mixing with your cum as well. His fingers on your ass loosened, not even realizing how hard he was holding on and you relaxed on his lap and fully into his chest. His chest rose and fell softly as he came down. He wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer as he grew a little softer inside of you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded into his neck, holding on just a little bit tighter. He laid back again and this time you let your head fall against his chest to hear his heartbeat beneath you; the same heart now connected to yours. Your life was in his hands now, and his in yours.

“I’ll bring down Heaven for you.”

You melted into him, tired, but fulfilled. You finally felt redeemed. Your soul was still in Hell where it belonged, that much you weren’t going to argue, but you had come to terms that this would be permanent for you. You had gained back what you wanted and more which was hardly fair. But when it came to a side you felt as if you were on the right side of the line. A second heart beat in time with yours. A second soul twisted out and grasped onto yours like vines. You were two, but one. A Prince and a human, side by side in this new age.

Far away, on Earth, and nowhere near the clutches of a place that was slowly crawling to the surface, the Pope sat at his window looking out into the night. Over the horizon of the lights of Rome, thunder rumbled, and lightening began to streak across the sky as a storm approached. He felt the change on the air as it charged with electricity. Whatever was happening was going to be catastrophic to humankind.

“It’s in your best interest to do that now. There’s going to be a war soon and Earth will suffer just as many consequences. You’ll want to find yourself on the right side.”

The Prince’s words plagued his thoughts during the day and his dreams at night. Guilt rested deep into his heart; his faith tested. In his hand he held the brooch, the symbolism of his betrayal. Whether Heaven or Hell won, he had chosen his side.

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[invidiasaunder]

Doom (”Hell AU”) scene

- Do you really think so?...

There is something wrong with how confused this strong, dangerous and even frightening creature looks, which is now gazing with hidden pain at its own hands. Following the other's gaze, the Marine does not hold back a heavy sigh, it was only necessary to understand - he was aimed at claws unusual for the human race, disfiguring the already painfully pale fingers.

- Really. - Seeing other people's torment becomes unbearable. To stand like an statue, among other things, too, and not having come up with anything better, the Slayer casually pats the head down dejectedly, as if in an absolutely idiotic attempt to support. The palm accidentally touches the root of the curved horns: - You proved to me that you retained not only self-control, but also a relatively sober mind. So why would I consider you disgusting?

- Because I'm a demon? - Skeptically responding, the fallen one clasps his hands in disgust and looks up, making no other attempts to study the body modified by Hell. The cruel truth hits where it should and an awkward silence hangs in the air: From the fact that I am a monster? Freak? Besides, you are unlikely to understand what this is, Flynn, and it is not your fault. Fortunately, of the two of us, only I am doomed to shy away from my own reflection.

- You're not a freak. - Trying to protest, the Soldier immediately purses his dry lips, as soon as he heard a bitter laugh from the side of the deceased comrade. Okay, who is he kidding? The old friend really looked ... not very good. To put it mildly: - Okay, listen. What they did to you is cruel, but personally I don't find you disgusting. In fact, your new look has its advantages.

Skepticism in someone else's gaze burns almost physically, and the Slayer feels drops of nervous sweat flowing down his temple. It was necessary to blurt out this. And now what to say? “You have become bigger and stronger” sounds so childish that even from the very thoughts a bashful blush lights up? - For example ... for example ... For example, your eyes.

- My eyes?

Obviously bewildered, the demon looks puzzled at the interlocutor, expecting a worthy explanation, and, unexpectedly for himself, the person realizes that in these red coals, bordered by a black shadow from the protruding cheekbones, there really is something attractive. Thought is striking in its suddenness and simple, ingenuous truth.

“When I look into your eyes, I see a flame. - After thinking, the Marine continued: - But, it does not burn me. Warms like a fire in a small hearth. Home association, or something like that.

- Did you have one? .. - The fallen man asked quietly, but as soon as he noticed the heavy look of the interlocutor, he immediately bit his own tongue with force and continued even quieter: - The eyes of other demons are also burning.

- They are burning. - The harshness in someone else's voice makes you tense, but not even a few seconds go by when a person, not without due effort, drives away unpleasant memories and clasps someone else's head with his palm before carefully looking into the face. The unexpected closeness puzzles even more - unable to withstand a direct gaze, the demon looks shyly at the floor: - They burn with rage and hunger. Thirst for blood. Hate. Yours could not be overshadowed even by the veil of her power, I still saw in them only the pain of the strayed Night Guard, and not the insane anger of a hellish animal: - Sighing heavily, the Slayer removes his hand from someone else's face and straightens up before confidently ending: “This is what sets you apart from them, Marauder. To hell with your looks if you remain yourself inside.

"Can you ... can you get your hand back?"

Having asked faster than fully realizing the meaning of his own request, the demon immediately lowers his gaze back and clenches his fists tighter, as if the pain from claws digging into his palm is nothing compared to the expectation of a natural refusal. Or contempt in the eyes of others. Both seemed unbearable, and their own vulnerability provoked an irritated groan. You can't. You can't open up that much. Hadn't he already got enough knives in his back? So, why does it still behave like a stray dog, which naively raises its head under the caress of a passerby's hand, even if, after a fleeting warmth, it is destined to remain in cold solitude again? A pathetic, disfigured creature, and it made me want to howl.

- If you want to..? - The confusion in someone else's voice is better than mockery, and a tight lump of doubt weakens its merciless pressure on the chest, or even disappears completely without a trace, one had only to feel the palm returning to the sharp cheekbone. Not daring to look up, the fallen one still feels a slight surprise when, instead of the coolness of the already familiar metal of rough gloves, the dead skin collides with someone else's, alive and hot. - So? Hmm. You see, you are not at all disgusting to me.

Strength, both moral and physical, is only enough to nod weakly, but this light, almost weightless movement is saturated with silent gratitude through and through, which does not go unnoticed. Emboldened by the reaction, the Marine thoughtfully strokes his sunken cheek, re-examining every detail of someone else's appearance, which now did not repulse at all with its ugliness caused by the association with the hated race. On the contrary, there was something special about this pale, almost milky-white skin, mottled with a web of pitch-dark veins, in those crooked horns that resemble an old helmet, because of the weight of which the demon always seemed to look sullenly. The initial shock and disgust in front of someone else's appearance, which later turned to polite ignoring, were now replaced by sincere interest, and the person not without surprise notices that the look of a comrade, defamed by Hell, can be called in its own way ... beautiful.

- Beautiful?

Startled with surprise, the Slayer with vague guilt notices a confused look opposite, belatedly realizing the spoken thoughts aloud. There was no time to come up with a worthy excuse, and therefore a confident nod follows and a direct, sincere answer: - Yes. I think you are beautiful.

Beautiful. Wonderful. Unique. In all the worlds there is no second person like you. You shouldn't consider yourself a monster unworthy of life, because this face is far from the first place that defines you in my eyes.

Tears have always been and remain the prerogative of the living, but old pain is replaced by a light, emerald glow, and the demon presses against someone else's hand, listening to the native voice of his comrade who has accepted his curse. Rough from scars and dry air, the palm awkwardly strokes the disfigured face, and with every touch, the unbearable melancholy subsides, ridding him of his snake venom, which did not allow him to rest or forget about the punishment deserved by betrayal. The time will come, the time will come to pay for all the sins of his past, but not now, when quiet, warm words forced him to flatter like that same abandoned dog, in front of which they decided not only to stop, but also to take him home. From the very depths of the chest, a barely audible rumbling unexpectedly escapes, puzzling both those present, but the gentle laugh that followed helps to relax again, for the first time in many hundreds of years feeling completely safe.

- You are so wonderful. I'm so glad I have you.

#Doom #Doom Eternal #Doom AU #Hell AU #Marauder #Doom Marauder #Doom Slayer #Doomguy #Doomrauder #Maradoom #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Slash #Flaff #Drama #Praise #Game #Gaming #Writing #Write #Game fanfiction #Game fanfic

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Guardian of creatures; AU! Queen x oc female x reader Chap. 3

*Author’s note*

Wow just two days of writing and here we go with the next chapter. Now here you as the reader finally learn the truth about the owners of the BEWITCHED nightclub, as well as it’s star employees.  More of a background will happen in later chapters but for now I hope this will do for you all enjoying this series.

Warnings: Objects coming alive, some swearing, graphic mythology.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@kinole009x​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@dancingcoolcat​

@queendeakyy​

@klausidiot​

@geek-and-proud​

____________________________________________________________

Chapter 3

Monsters are real!?

Hissing, deep roars, flashing lights, and something scaly. That was what was flashing through your mind like a film.   You also remember hearing faint voices of Serafina and John talking to someone, but the last thing you could recall seeing was two eyes staring down at you.

The hypnotic, enticing yet warm yellow eyes staring down at you.  You also remember feeling something smooth and scaly wrap around you before everything went black.

Finally you find the strength to open your eyes and you let out a loud, breathless gasp.  The kind of gasp you make when you’ve been underwater for too long, the kind where you’re so desperate for air it didn’t matter whether a fly flew into your mouth or not.

The first thing you feel is a cool rag at the top of your head and you take in your surroundings.  You’re in a large bedroom.  The walls were a mix of purple and grey pattern wallpaper.  One strip of the wall was a beautiful dark shade of purple, and the other was a grey with a floral design, then another strip of purple, and the pattern continued around the entire room.

The bed you were lying in was the softest thing you had ever felt.  It was like sleeping on a cloud and the blankets were the softest of silk. Or was it Satin? Whatever it was, it was soft.  Much better than any bedsheets you’ve ever slept on.  After removing the damp cloth from your forehead you turn to see a beautifully hand-carved dresser.

Through the blackwood, you could see that engraved onto it were what appeared to be wolves.  Wolves running alongside the entire dresser.  You continued to look around to also see a large wooden wardrobe to your right and a small purple loveseat just at the foot of the bed.

Two Elegant candelabra lights were also on both sides of the room as well as one more right above you.  Slowly you get out of the bed to feel the soft yet fuzzy texture of the carpet beneath your feet.  The fuzzy points of it tickled your bare feet but one thing was screaming in your mind.

Where the hell were you?

Sneaking towards the door, you open it up to reveal a grand hallway.  The wooden walls and low lighting gave it almost a haunting quality to it (and it didn’t help that it was still dark out).

Quietly as you could, you sneak down the hallway hoping to find a way out.  As you walk, you can’t help but notice some of the pictures that hung along the walls.

In normal homes you’d see pictures of family members, paintings by famous artists or paintings of family members themselves.  But this house—well one picture was of what appeared to be an evolution of some kind of human-serpent like creature.

Another picture was of the ocean but under the waters of the picture were terrifying creatures with sharp teeth, claws, webbed-like hands and tails like a fish.  After what felt like forever of walking down this dimly lit hallway, you finally arrive at a grand staircase.  A split staircase with one set of stairs (that you were in front of) and another set of stairs across from you joined together on a grand landing and then continuing downward to the main floor of the mansion.

The carpets were blood red and floral designed as well as some other intricate designed patterns that you had never seen before.  You hold onto the railing as you quietly sneak down but of course the floor creaks beneath your foot.

You quickly take back your foot and quickly look around, your heart racing with anxiety.  You then try your luck at a different part of the staircase and you thank God above that you didn’t hear a creak beneath your foot this time around.  Cautiously you walk down the steps when you hear the strangest sound you had ever heard.

It sounded like a mixture of animals, it had the light cooing sound of a dove, but it had the deep resonance of an owl.  You thought you also heard the purr of a cat mixed in there too.  Slowly you turn your head around and you were frozen in fear to see the wooden shape of some sort of snake.

Half it’s body had lifted from the column that stood by the top of the staircase.  It’s head tilted curiously at you as it’s wooden forked tongue occasionally came out. You and this wooden snake didn’t break eye contact with each other for even a split second, it’s unblinking eyes staring straight at you.  You feared if you had blinked once, you’d be dead in an instant.

Suddenly all along it’s neck began to spike up into some sort of frizzled up wooden mane as it let out a demonic hiss/roar like sound.  You yelp as you suddenly felt yourself falling backwards along the staircase.

The loud roar like hiss soon began to call up an alarm as the lights began to flicker on and off, the sound of an organ began playing but you saw no one was pounding on the keys and a few suits of armor started to come to life.

You let out a terrified scream as you scramble yourself up and tried to flee out the backway but you hear the sound of the locks clicking, telling you that it had locked itself up.  Keeping you trapped inside.  The suits of armor continue to come towards you so you now run to our left and you soon arrive at a very large den-like room.

Thinking fast, you shut the door and pull a chair towards it and lean it against the doorknob so that nothing could enter inside.  As an extra measure, you ran towards a giant desk and hid underneath it trying to control your breathing.

“Oh my god, oh my god oh god oh god!” you whimper fearfully. Slowly you peek over the desk just to see if anything is trying to break down the door.

Unaware of a dark green tail that was slowly slithering towards you.  Slowly feeling around your ankle you feel something cold wrap around your ankle. You look down and see a dark green snake tail wrapped around your leg.  It then begins to tug at you hardly but you quickly grab onto the desk and try to hold on.

It’s a tug of war as you scream and beg for the tail to let you go.  You kick at it with your free foot but it does little to deter the snake tail. Soon coming through a second door that you had no idea existed, John and Serafina are there.

Serafina grabs you while John shoots out a purple light from his hand down onto the snake tail which reals back and vanishes from sight. You scream up at Serafina as you try to escape from her grasp.

“(Y/n), sweetie it’s okay. It’s just us.” She tried to assure you.  But you let out another terrified scream.

“Well that’s one way of saying thanks.” John said in a sarcastic tone.

“John behave!” she snapped at her husband.  Wait, you then noticed that her low, southern accent wasn’t there.  She sounded British. Was she faking the accent when you first met her? She turns back to you and says softly, “I know you’ve been through something traumatic but……”

“Traumatic!? TRAUMATIC!? You call that traumatic!?” you yell at her.

“It’s a lot to take in but please just let us……”

“What were those people!? Who are you!? Are you both gonna kill me?!”

“What no. No we’re not gonna kill you.”

“You guys are gonna kill me. You’re gonna chop me up into little pieces and serve me up in a pie!” you panicked.

“Sweetie no one’s gonna chop you up and bake you into a pie.” Serafina assured you.

“Then why did the house attack me!? Why am I here? Why—” suddenly your voice goes quiet.  You can still feel yourself speaking but no voice is coming out of you.  You panic once more and mime out a scream as you rake your hands through your hair.

“John Richard Deacon!” Serafina snarled.  You stop screaming for a second to see John lower his hand as he said.

“Well how else were we gonna get them to stop overtalking you?”

“Uhh not with magic. And like civilized people with compassion and reassurance.” Magic? Did she really just say magic?

“Yeah like that was going so well just now.” John sassed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“John I’m serious. Give them back their voice, and try to be empathetic about the situation. You were the exact same way when we were told of this.”

“That was a different story.”

“Not really.”

“Yes it was!”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was!” I tapped Serafina’s shoulder and she turned to me and sighed softly.

“Sorry love. We didn’t mean for things to go out the way they did but—we had to make sure the curse on you was fully gone. That’s why we brought you here. To our manor in Cold Spring.” Cold Spring?! You were in Cold Spring New York?!

You then feel a warmness coming back in your throat and that’s when John said to you.

“Try not to go screaming at the top of your lungs again. Otherwise your voice will be gone for a week.”

“John!” Serafina warned.

“Who are you guys?” you finally ask.  The two young owners of the Jazz club looked at each other when John said.

“That’s—a long story.”

“At this point I don’t care. I want the truth!” you tell them.

“Come with us.” John said as he walked out of the room. Serafina held out her hand for you. Her red eyes giving you a sense of calmness and maternity.  You give her your hand and she helps you stand up and walks you out of the study room.

You now stand before a grand library filled to the brim with books.  Shelves so high you swear they touched the ceiling, you also notice that there is a giant globe at the center of the room, a few display tables with some pretty interesting and freaky stuff.  Like one was a mummified hand or a golden statue of a cat.

As you walk through the library with curiosity that’s when Serafina asks you.

“What’s your knowledge of witches and wizards (Y/n)?”

“Not much. I mean I know about the Salem witch trials that happened a long time ago. But other than that……pointy black hats, broomsticks, and are said to be green skinned, old and ugly.” You say as you look at some of the books and items in the display cases.

“Well, I think they’re a little bit more than hats and broomsticks.” Serafina said as she sat down on one of the red velvet chairs.

“And they’re not ugly. That’s just a stereotypical characteristic.” John said as he came up and stood over Serafina’s chair.

“Well I don’t know. I’d classify your mother as one of the ugly bitches if I could.” Serafina teased.  

“Can’t argue with that.” John chuckled.

“Wait.” You say as you turn to them. “Are you saying—you guys are witches?”

“The technical name for a male witch is a wizard. Or Warlock but that’s only reserved for the most powerful of wizards. But—yes. We are.” John replied.

“Does that frighten you?” Serafina asked.

“That depends. Are you both good or are you bad?”

“Well, it all depends on what you mean by ‘bad’. I’m nice but not that good.”

“You always degrade yourself love. You’re the best potions brewer I’ve ever met. You can name every single ingredient of every potion known to any wizard and witch. And you don’t even need a spell book. Not to mention your knowledge of magical creatures.” John said as he lowered his head towards Serafina’s and pressed against it lovingly.

“You’re one to talk Mr. Honor’s degree. You were the top wizard of our class in everything.” Serafina said as she gently poked John’s shoulder.

“A school? You mean to tell me there’s a school for wizard’s and witches?” you ask.

“Yes.” Serafina say breaking her eye contact with John to turn back to you. “There is only one school where wizards and witches go to become the best they can be—”

“But it was a long time ago when we went. I can barely recall it’s name.” John said as he turned his head away from Serafina.

There was a look in his eyes that read out—anger? Regret? You didn’t know but it you did know that it seemed John didn’t want to talk about it anymore.  You see Serafina take John’s hand and stroke the back of it.

“Look, it’s been a long night for all of us. I think it’s best if we all go back to sleep, we’ll continue this discussion in the morning with the others.”

“You mean…….” Serafina placed her finger over her lips in a shushing motion.  

“Come now dear, I’ll take you back to your room. John, you can go downstairs and apologize to you know who for the shock you gave.” She sat up from the chair and placed an arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the library.

“If I end up a ghost after talking to him, I’ll be coming for you first.” John told her.

“Please I know what you would do to me as a ghost.” Serafina called out back to him.

The two of you walk back up towards the room you were just at, every now and then you watched as Serafina ordered the suits of armor to go back into position, silence the piano, and shoo the wooden snake back against the column pillar.

“Do you and John always fight like that?”

“What married couple doesn’t? John and I can go at each other like dragons but through all our fights, we’ve never loved each other any less. Trust me when you’ve been with someone for over 1000 years you learn to compromise through your fights.”

“1000 years!?” you exclaim. “You’ve been married to John for a 1000 years?!”

“Technically we got married in 1465 so it’s only been 500 when we legally became husband and wife. However we were childhood sweethearts back in 1020. So we’ve just counted our relationship from when we first met.”

“So do witches and wizards age slower? Or are you guys immortal? Sorry if it sounds to personal. It’s just that you don’t look a day over 24.” She chuckled softly.

“Thank you dear. Well it goes both ways. You can form a spell to keep your immortal looks, but typically wizards and witches do age slower than muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“Oh that’s what we call humans back in England. Muggles, people who can’t do magic.” You nod.

Finally you arrive back to the bedroom and Serafina guides you back to the bed.  As soon as you get into it, she tucks you in gently and adjusts your pillow.

“There we go. Comfy?” you nod. “As I said, we’ll explain everything in the morning. But for now rest is the most important thing you need right now. Goodnight (Y/n).”

“G’night.” You tell her.  She then leaves the bedroom and with a snap of her fingers the lights go off and the door softly closes behind her.

Okay. So witches and wizards are real. The owners of the jazz club your boss wanted you to look into and expose are a witch and wizard. Just when you thought they only belong in storybooks, you find out witches exist and are real.

You could only imagine what else could exist in this world.

Morning came and you awoke to the smell of pancakes.  You open your eyes and saw the sun’s rays coming through the windows in an elegant way, kinda like a hanging halo of light.

You get out of the bedroom and follow your nose till you stand before a grand kitchen.  Inside you see the Blonde Siren sitting with Brian at a booth table.  The blonde siren had basically every kind of breakfast meat there was on his plate.  Bacon, sausages, ham, etc.

While Brian had some toast, two pancakes, and a tall glass of what looked like red wine.  What really caught your attention though was the way the both of them were eating.  Even a sip of the wine, Brian handled his breakfast with a high degree of grace and decorum (like those high aristocratic people), while the Blonde Siren was eating away at his food like a starving animal and—were those fangs in his mouth.

“Honestly Rog, must you eat like an animal?” asked Brian.

“Must you eat like you’ve got a pole shoved up your arse?” retorted Rog.  Was that his real name? It sounded more like a nickname or something but what was it short for?

“Honestly I can’t see how you can devour animals like that. It’s quite sickening to watch at times.”

“You know what else is sickening? Listening to you complain while I’m trying to eat. Seriously Brian, you elves go on hunting parties, and yet you can’t stand the sight of me eating other animals? That’s very hypocritical of you.”

“I never once participated in a hunting party and you know it!” Brian exclaimed.

“I swear do you two ever stop arguing with each other. It’s like watching two children fight over a toy.” John said as he came through the back door entrance of the kitchen and headed back to the stove.  He then turns his attention to you and says, “Ahh I see that my wife’s cooking has woken you up.”

When Brian and Rog look up, their eyes widened in shock as they look around trying to pretend their conversation didn’t happen.

“I was just…..I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Nonsense, come sit. Eat. Regain your strength, you need it. Also I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. I get a little testy when I’m woken up after a battle.”

“It’s okay John.”

“Now we have a selection for breakfast, do you prefer vegetarian or the regular breakfast selection?” you tell him what you prefer and he shows you the selection they have for your preferred breakfast.

After getting your breakfast made, you go towards the table where Brian and Rog sat and take a seat across from the two men.  As you take the first bite of food Rog speaks up.

“How—much of that did you hear?” before you could answer that’s when John speaks up as he snapped his fingers and soon the plates began to clean themselves up.

“We told them Rog. Well the partial truth about what Serafina and I really are. So they know to an extent of what creatures really exist.”

“I see.” Brian said.  

“Serafina said she wanted to talk about it with you guys as well. Are you guys wizards like John?”

“Thank Poseidon no. I don’t know what I’d do if I were one of those stuck up, pompous, egotistical……”

“Watch it stallion! You forget Serafina is a witch so insulting me means you’re insulting her.” John warned.

“Oh I would never put Serafina with the likes of you. She is something extra special.” Is he sure he’s not in love with Serafina.  Cause the way he praises her is.  You feel Brian touch your arm as he explains.

“Roger here comes from a Scandinavian race known as the Nokks.”

“Neck, Nokken, Nixy, Nix, there’s a shit ton of ways to spell our name.” Roger waved his hand nonchalantly. “Just depends on where you come from is where the pronunciations differ.”

“Anyways. His kind are nothing more than horny hound dogs that seduce women and lure children away with songs or beautiful music.” John sneered as he took a bite of a piece of toast that had cheese on it.

“I NEVER ONCE LURED A CHILD TO THEIR DEATH!! I could never stomach something like that.” Roger first snapped angrily before softly speaking with solemness.

“But you don’t deny the way you are with women.” Brian said more as a statement than a question.

“Is there anything wrong with that?” Roger asked as he turned to the curly haired man who held his wine glass in his hand with purpose (was that even possible?).

“You have always loved your beautiful women.”

“Beauty should always be praised and treasured, wouldn’t you agree Elf Lord?”

“Elf lord?” you ask.  At that point Brian sighed heavily and set his glass down and said to Roger.

“Thank you for that.” Roger merely grinned cheekily at him. Brian then turns to you and pulls back some of his hair to reveal the pointed ears of an elf.

“Back during the middle ages, long before people started over populating the land with their cities and towns. Brian here was known as the High Elven lord of the West. Skilled fighter, wise ruler, protector of the forest, and Seer of the stars.”

“I…..I thought elves like you know—worked up at the North Pole and were……and don’t take this the wrong way Brian but uhh…..I honestly thought you’d be shorter.” At this point Roger began to laugh hysterically as Brian pinched the bridge of his nose groaning.

“I don’t know where humans got that idea that elves were supposed to be as short as dwarves and worked far up North were hardly anyone can survive.”

“Oh man! That is probably the funniest thing I have ever heard! How come you never told us that’s what humans perceive you as?” Roger said through his laughter.

“Because I knew you would react this way!” Brian shouted.

“Oh Trident’s spear. You are never gonna live this down mate.” Brian groaned as he dropped his head to the table.

“Now, now Roger don’t tease him like that.” Serafina’s voice soon spoke up.  You look up and coming from the back entrance was Serafina.

She walks up to John and the two of them share a kiss with each other and you see as John wraps his arms around her.  You also couldn’t help but notice that in Serafina’s eyes she seemed—sad.

“How you’re awake, how did you sleep (Y/n) dear?” she asks you.

“Better. And the breakfast is delicious.”

“Thank you. John always prepares the best meals.” She said as she looked up at her husband who looked down at her and gave her a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Flattery will get you anywhere my love.” She rested her head against his collarbone when Roger spoke up.

“As lovey dovey as this is, it still makes me sick to my stomach seeing you to act like that in front of me.”

“Which is why we do it.” John sassed at him with a glare.

“Darling, behave yourself.” As they continue to argue, your mind then transitioned back to last night when you met Jarod.  When you saw all those creatures with fangs, and then that one man.

The man with the long, crazed black hair, the yellow piercing of his eyes, and the scales all over his body.

“(Y/n)?” Brian’s soft voice calls out to you.  You snap out of his and he asks you, “What’s on your mind dear one?”

“I—I was just thinking about…….what happened last night. With Jarod.”

“It’s my fault. I should’ve fought back! He never would’ve touched you had I just not been afraid to reveal my powers.” Serafina snapped at herself.

“My love you were in the right mindset. We all agreed to never show our true selves before the eyes of humanity.” John said as he held her closer to him.  Roger whose eyes showed pure sympathy at Serafina now turned to you and you saw them shift into anger as he explained to you.

“Last night you had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting one of the fae Princes, Jarod. Son of Queen Titania of the Faeries.”

“Fairies?”

“No not fairies, faeries. There’s a HUGE difference.”

“What is the difference? Aren’t they all the same?”

“Not in the slightest.” Brian now took over saying. “See, you humans think of fairies as tiny, miniature versions of yourselves. That fly about with pixie dust trailing behind them, and in some cases mending and taking care of the earth?” you nod. “Well there’s not like they are in your books.”

“They are dark, evil creatures. In touch with all things beyond morale and humane.” John then spoke up.

“Faes can take the form of humans, far past the human standards of beauty, and lure humans to be their pets of sorts. Draining your life force or forcing you to bare their children till you’re nothing but a withering whisp of your former self.” Serafina stated grimly.

“And all you have to do in order to form that contract with a fae, is tell them your name.” Roger finished.

Oh shit! That means…….you had told Jarod your name. Does that mean he’ll be coming back for you? Or send in more faes to kidnap you?

“It’s alright though (Y/n). They won’t be coming back for you though.” Brian assured you.

“How do you know that? I told Jarod my name, how could I be so stupid!? I’ve put you all in danger! I could get you all killed!”

“No, no, no, no, no darling no. You are not a danger to us because you’ve been freed of the contract.” Serafina said to you as she came up and cupped your face in her hands.

“What? But he said that I had to tell them my name. And I did…..”

“You did do that yes, but the way to free a human from a faes control is if the fae that knows your name dies, the contract is no longer valid. Jarod is dead sweetie, and Titania isn’t stupid to try and come back for you.” she strokes you cheek assuringly.

“Was it……was it that man with the long black hair that killed him?”

“You saw him?” asked Brian.

“It was fuzzy. But—I remember seeing a flash of scales, and—hypnotic eyes staring straight down at me. And his voice—it was…..soft and warm. Like honey. Yet……”

“Struck the earth like an earthquake.” They all said together. Okay that was creepy that they all said it together in a chorus-like monotone.

“Yeah. Who was he?” they all went quiet.  Serafina walks away from you and stands before a window looking outside.

“He is an ancient creature that has been around since the beginning of time itself.” She started off.

“A great race of creature, the like of which no one had ever seen before. A creature that can see the past, and the future.” John spoke ominously.

“His race is said to have been Gods themselves. No other creature would dare challenge the likes of his kind. Except one.” Brian said. You notice his eyes briefly flicker towards John before turning back to you. “Now he is the last of his kind.”

“The last of a supreme race of mythical creatures. All fear yet respect him. For he is law of the world, seer of all, and shaman of life.” Said Roger as he fingered the table, tracing an infinity symbol.

“Freddie Mercury, the last of the Nagas.” They all finally chorused out once again.

You feel a sudden cold chill in the air as that name was said. A shiver ran up your spine and your heart almost stopped.  Just hearing that name made something in you feel—afraid, but at the same time comforted.

“What’s a—a Naga?” it sounded so foreign to you and even through all your love of fantasy genres of books, not one book ever spoke of a Naga before.

“They are a hybrid like creature. The first ever to roam the earth. Their upper bodies are human, whether man or woman, but their lower half is full on snake. The biggest Naga ever said to exist was over 60ft long from his human head to her snake tail.”

“They are gifted with all things magic, and cannot be effected by other magical creatures. Which is why the faes let us go when Freddie came to save our arses.” Roger said as he took a bite out of his food.

“But make no mistake. Nagas are neither good nor bad. They stand on a neutral ground, only observing the world around them. But it’s always wise to never, ever anger a Naga. Less you end up their next meal.” Serafina said.

“God knows we’ve all nearly been on Fred’s menu at least once since meeting him.” John said.

“I haven’t.” Brian said.

“Don’t go bragging Elfling.” Roger snapped.

“I’m over 4000 years old Roger!”

“Yes and I have been around since the oceans and seas formed. Which makes me older than you!”

“Enough! Both of you!” John snapped.  You sit there in silence for a moment before John asks you. “You alright poppet?”

“Yeah I just…….”

“It is a lot to take in over breakfast.” Brian said. “We don’t expect you to accept it all right away.”

“Will I ever see Freddie?” you ask them.

“He’ll see you when he wants to see you. But now isn’t the right time.” Serafina tells you as she picks up the empty plates from the table and uses her magic to clean them up.

“When I do see him, he won’t……eat me. Will he?” you choke out.

“So long as you don’t give a reason to.” Roger said as he stood up and headed out of the kitchen.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“We’ll tell you when the time comes. For now let’s just get you properly dressed. Brian, why don’t you take (Y/n) to your room and have a change of clothes ready for them.” Serafina said.

“Of course Serafina.” He stands up from the booth and comes over to you extending his hand. “Come with me dear one.” You look up at the Elf Lord and take his hand.  He helps you out of the booth and escorts you up towards his room.

*3rd Person POV*

“I really hope we’re doing the right thing.” Serafina said softly as soon as the Elf Lord and human were out of range.

“It’s what has to be done my love.”

‘He’s right. I thought you of all people expected this Serafina?’ Freddie’s voice soon entered into their heads.

“That was before the faes came into play. Freddie must it be them?”

‘Yesssss. I have seen it with my own eyes. This is the human that will lead us to salvation. To our bright future.’

“It’s just……”

‘That’s why the next part of our plan will come to place; you and John will teach them everything you both know. Turn them into a magic wielder.’

#queen #queen band #queen fandom #queen imagine #queen imagines #queen x reader #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #freddie mercury #roger taylor imagines #brian may imagine #brian may imagines #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury imagines #freddie mercury x reader #john deacon imagine #john deacon imagines #john deacon x reader #john deacon x oc #brian may x oc #roger taylor x oc #freddie mercury x oc #bohemian rhapsody #au!queen

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

COFFEE SHOP AU PT4

SEGMENT TWO

Now let us visit the manor shall we, I should also point out the way the manor is positioned in this au is very Edward Scissor hands like, you know high atop a hill overlooking the town, just personally feels more fitting to me anyway like, Hat wants to stay away from most people but watches over them like the evil overlord he is, just my thought though shrugs.

Cruentus had ran, he didn’t stop until he was inside Hat Manor, back pressed to the door, was he breathless? Hyperventilating? At this point the hellhound could barely tell the difference, head in hands and sliding down the door, he damned God, he damned him because if this was some kind of trick to torment him…

Could even God be that cruel?

Knees now to this chest and arms around his waist he shivered, snow falling where it had collected on his coat, leaning his head back he couldn’t believe it, was his baby Lulu, his pup alive…no…no he was dead, had he become so absolutely sleep deprived he was imagining his son?

The oil lamps and their flickering lights made the lobbies deep red paper shimmer…akin to blood oozing from the walls…if it was appearing like that, there was a chance Black Hat was not in the best of moods himself…this house seemed to express his masters moods after all…no it was not oozing…the way it appeared to spill, meant he was bleeding emotionally.

It was selfish, but sometimes he wished he didn’t know how Hat felt, sometimes he wanted to just ignore him, Acylius had never blamed Hat for his impending death, but as a Father who lost his son…on bad days, really, really bad days, there was a part of him that did, even though he knew Acylius would have been miserable and unhappy without Black Hat.

It was his own selfish want to have his pup here and be his Father…but in all honesty, when it came down to it…when Acylius had told him to let him go, even though they knew what would happen when he left that day, no matter how much he wanted to stop him, reach out and beg him not to go…

Cruentus could not have denied that soft smile of his son who stood before him a soldier…no…a king who was willing to die, to turn the tide and save the Elderichts, change what the world had done to them as well as give the Legion demons their own freedom, to not always be eternally bound or the less fortunate ones who were sold off…after all not every Legion demon had been born rich and with privilege.

He remembered, his sons hands on his face, telling him it was alright and that he was ready to die, that he’d accepted it the moment he’d seen Hat standing there in the rain, that if the happiness he’d had with Amadeus came with this price, every single time he would be willing to pay it…what if this was Acylius…

Would fate be so cruel as to make his son pay it again just for being with Black Hat?

Or would Acylius even end up with Black Hat this time…he could try and play matchmaker, after all he had a friend or two who would treat Acylius as if he were as precious as the universe itself…

No these were desperate thoughts.

Cruentus knew that if Acylius wanted Black Hat.

There would never be anyone else for him…

Didn’t mean he couldn’t maybe try and put out something tempting on the table, after all Caspian was always a kind soul who wanted to look after Acylius and had held a candle for him even if he had never outright said anything, he’d never been blind to how the glass demon was practically always humming a happy tune at the prospect of seeing him.

He let his head fall back against the door, this was all too much, his world felt like it was spinning, it might not be him, reincarnated Acylius would mean there was an entirely different life bound to him, he would be Acylius but different in so many ways.

Was it the Acylius they’d known finally spat out of purgatory?

That fucking place had a habit of playing games with people and leaving gaping holes in their memories and placing bets on how long it took them to remember if they ever remembered at all.

Then the last question was it even Acylius? Hope could be a cruel thing after all.

The idea of going to bed was unbelievably tempting, go to sleep and pretend this was all a very real dream of his son, but he knew at this hour everyone else had already retired apart from a few scientists who were lost in their work coming up with the next dastardly thing to sell to villains.

Perking his ears up he stilled, eyes closing he listened, as suspected scientists were busy with their work but he was not searching for them, his hearing focused on Black Hats office, his room, his study but there was nothing there, no grumbling, pacing or turning of a page, not even a scrawling of his quill signing paperwork, just Acylius’s old grandfather clock that ticked in his office.

So if Amadeus was not in the manor…

He lay on his side and listened there, the mourning room Black Hat had made for Acylius ran along the complete under side of the manor, Amadeus, had made it into a museum with glass cabinets including little plaques.

As much as Hat seemed obsessive, he had earnestly tried to move on as Acylius had asked of him, he’d had short term relationships that just didn’t last, he’d found happiness in many ways, but nothing had ever lit that spark in the short demon as Acylius had, no matter how much Amadeus had tried, it was clear that his mourning might never end, much as a swan who mated for life and there would never be another to fill that space.

He would be lying to himself though if he denied ever visiting Hat’s shrine to his son, he was the only other person who had access to it and that was just because he was Acylius’s Father.

Ah yes there he was, that heavy forlorn sigh, slightly ragged and in pain, if the bleeding walls were not a clear sign alone that it was a low day for his friend then that would have said enough.

Cruentus would have shadow travelled to him but Black Hat had enchanted the place to stop fools from trying to break in.

Making his way to the entrance, he went down the spiral staircase with black iron bars decorated with gold leaf decorations as vines twisted around them, his palm open as a fireball lit the way, down at the bottom a blue walk way carpet in a hue only Legion demons could see, so of course it would just so happen to be Acylius’s favourite colour, he’d wondered what it looked like on many occasions as to both he and Hat it appeared only gray.

Of course his son had tried to describe it as being close to the sea only more divine.

Grand oak doors greeted him at the end, opened slightly still, he closed his hand, snuffing out the fire and made his way in quietly, his heart was racing, how was he going to tell Amadeus about the man he’d met, the possibility Acylius was back, well first he had to find him in this place it wasn’t exactly small after all.

Black Hat was currently sitting on the bed he’d shared with Acylius, fingers brushing over the covers, recalling how once upon a time it had been infuriating how much Flug moved in his sleep until he reached a day where sleeping without some part of the blasted tree draped over him was nigh on impossible.

Of course he’d slept since Acylius’s death, but it’d never been peaceful, sometimes he only rested because he could imagine that disapproving look…which if he’d been alive he’d have also been picked up and carried to bed whether he wanted to or not, in the end he’d always been thankful that the tree had because he just knew, he just always seemed to know when he was exhausted or needed to just rest.

Flopping back he sank against the pillows, a faint scent of his doctor still lingered on the linen, staring up at the four poster canopy he wondered if the Flug he’d met was simply a doppelganger, sometimes these things happened, a creature taking a face when no longer in use and sometimes those memories attached to it would bleed into their memories.

He closed his eyes, hands to his chest, sighing solemnly, wouldn’t it be wonderful just to have him here for one more night, to say good bye in a way that would be soft and tender…his dear tree had entered this world in pain and left it in the same manner.

When Amadeus opened his eyes again he found Cruentus staring down at him he let out a more than undignified scream hand to his chest only to then slap Cruentus’s face, the Hellhound of course had no reaction, after all it was a more you bastard for making me jump but I’m not actually angry at you but how dare.

“Sir if it is time for you to rest I can fetch you a hot coco or single malt, all depends on what you wish for, tonight.”

Hat recomposed himself and sat up; damn it, only his tree and the damn hellhound could sneak up on him like that.

“Sir, you and I both know your heart is not in your chest.”

Cruentus smiled, biting back a laugh.

As Amadeus watched the hellhound’s ears express just how funny he’d found making him jump was, he could not be mad, no it only added to the sad longing of just wanting to be beside that idiot who was down at that wonderful little café Amongst The Stars.

Of course Acylius had learned to express with his ears from watching his hellhound father, he even wondered sometimes if he’d picked up on it to himself and even how to control and hide his emotions with them, but what he missed most was seeing them wiggle every time Flug was happy, it had taken Black Hat so long to realise they always moved like that when he entered the room…

Did Acylius ever know just how much his heart fluttered at the sight of him?

He could not recall if Flug’s ears had moved like that when he saw him today or yesterday, he’d been too lost in just seeing him, trying to grip onto reality, it was a phenomenon to just see Acylius walking and breathing, being alive.

It left him in a wonderful dreamy daze, he could barely take his eye off him, Amadeus so desperately wanted the barista to turn around and smile at him like he used to…that was probably a heartbroken and desperate wish…but still if it took wishing on every star for a moment he would ask each and every one of them until it came true.

He like Cruentus knew there was the very real possibility of another life attached to this man; still the question they both wondered was he reborn or spat out of purgatory?

Could this Acylius even be a man he could love or love him?

What if Acylius felt nothing for him…no he would not despair, one could not know the answer to something if they did not at least ask or try to find out.

Hat blinked as snapping fingers brought him from his thoughts

“Hey now, what’s on your mind, Gremlin?”

Cru asked softly only for his hear to lay back as the anime dark blue cloud of oh dear I done bad hovered over him as he was on the receiving end of one of Hat’s famous dark looks, of course only Acylius was allowed to call him Gremlin.

He tilted his head though when Amadeus didn’t do anything and watched him flop back onto the old bed, yelping as he was pulled onto it with a black tentacle wrapped around his waist and plopped onto the other side, the tentacle immediately disappearing afterwards. (The side where Hat used to sleep as Amadeus was currently taking up the side where Lulu slept.)

“Acylius is on my mind, what else…I have something very important to tell you Cruentus.”

Oh so Black Hat did know about the coffee shop?

“What is it sir?”

“I think…I am not sure, but Acylius might be alive, reborn, back from purgatory or pulled from wherever Legion demons go when they die, but I also want to call him a doppelganger. As much as I want it to be him…we cannot trust it at the same time…though his scars…can someone match them that perfectly?”

Cruentus lay there listening to him, staring up at the canopy; it was embroidered with silver stars that glowed in the dark, no matter Flugs age, his boy had always loved lights and things that’d glowed, heh he remembered hearing him asking Amadeus to open his mouth one night, how in awe he’d been of his glowing fangs…that was his pup alright.

“I saw him my way home, he was putting out the rubbish…I’m numb and yet feel everything at once, still my thoughts and feelings have come to stand still as I process it all, I can’t tell if we’re just finally losing it and starting to just want him back we’re imagining him there.”

The Hellhound didn’t face Amadeus; he thought he might just break down right then and there, how could he tell him, Acylius had remembered something from his childhood at this moment when it was clear he’d not said a thing about Black Hat.

No he would tell him tomorrow…but would that be a good idea, should he mention it…would Black Hat understand if he told him he’d been afraid to as the last time had been the final step into Acylius dying…yes, he would probably understand.

He would never tell him though and Acylius would never forgive him for making Hat feel that guilt when it was never his fault, when Acylius wanted to do something he did it, every step had always been his decision.

He would lie, a white lie, a simple one of he just wanted to make sure.

Closing his eyes and settling against the pillows Cruentus shared a moment’s silent until he felt Black Hat move beside him, he cracked open an eye and watched him turning on his side to face him.

“I understand completely, but we need to find out, carefully though mind you, if we rush his memory back it could genuinely do more harm than good…but I am willing to wait even if it only leads to heartache for us, we will regret it so much more if we don’t even try to be there and he remembers us.”

Cruentus only nodded to show he was listening, after all that was a good point.

Black Hat propped his head up with a hand, looking up at the star canopy in thought, a small hopeful smile creeping across his features

“If this Acylius and I are compatible, then I will gladly work on wooing him, learning all about him and his new life and new him, because no matter what he will always be my husband.”

(Send me messages if you want me to ever write their secret wedding, you can do it on anon btw <3)

“Is that not perhaps sir, a little obsessive and possessive?”

Cruentus returned, turning his head to face him only for Hat to look down at the still laying flat Hellhound with a brow raised

“So you are fine with the idea of him calling someone else Father…yes I know if it makes him happy and he is happy you would let him while your heart silently breaks, but I am not good like you…or even like he was , but Acylius always knew that.”

Cruentus’s brow furrowed, tears stinging his eyes, the idea of someone else being called Father or Papa…the notion was agonizing, but Hat was right , if Acylius was happy he’d let him go…no matter how much it hurt.

“You won’t make him be with you though, if he comes to realise he does not love you in this life?”

That was when Amadeus’s whole demeanour changed, sitting up his form turned completely to shadows covered in eyes and open maws, all moving, gnashing teeth and slit pupils focused on him, the one set in his skull was bloodshot and vibrating as Black Hat barely held his temper

“I trust you know me better Cruentus than to assume…I would ever do anything like that rat Vincent.”

The Hellhound was not afraid, but he himself knew it had been a cruel comment to make, looking up at him with bright yellow eyes he stayed still as the darkness of the room pressed in tightly around his body.

“I am sorry Amadeus, that was a truly uncalled for comment, I know you would never force Acylius to do anything he did not want, forgive a hurting Father who wants only what’s best for his son, but punish me if you see fit…”

He place a hand on Amadeus’s arm where fangs were but the maw did not open or try to bite him

“I know how much it hurt you what Vincent did that day, how much you still blame yourself no matter what Acylius said , you could never accept the fact that it wasn’t your fault it was Vincent’s…how he took advantage of the situation.”

A tentacle covered in razor sharp spikes whipped through the air as Black Hat let out an inhuman screech, only stopping a breath away from Cruentus’s face.

“I could never hurt you…Acylius would never forgive me if I did so.”

The shadows coiled back in, washing away as he returned to his old small form, after all he’d never grown the height the world saw him as was all for show, he really was still that four ft five Gremlin Acylius had loved so much, he was just too tired and emotionally drained to keep up that façade right now.

“Not even if I deserved it?”

Cruentus asked softly, oh Amadeus really was suffering; it was not often when he resorted back to his root form to rest.

Looking down and pulling his knees up to his chest his face hidden by the brim of his top hat and answered him quietly

“No, not even then, now go make my tea.”

He used a tendril to push Cruentus off the bed; a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the hellhound fell unceremoniously onto the floor and heard the somewhat pained groan of

“Yes sir.”

End of segment two of three

Segment one

#paperhat #Black hat #Acylius flug #Coffee shop au #Present day #Cruentus #So AU ALL THE AU XD #Vincent did a very bad thing

[lynne-monstr]

Writers Month Day 23: Poison (tka, yuhuang)

king’s avatar shadowhunters au requested by @thorndykechristopher

summary: yu wenzhou is a warlock with a very slow spell casting speed due to a childhood injury. huang shaotian is the shadowhunter assigned as his bodyguard. Their first mission together is an unmitigated disaster but it all works out in the end.

ao3 link

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With a loud, foreboding clang, the door slams shut and every window in the warehouse seals up. By the time Yu Wenzhou is able to coax his stubborn magic to his hands, it’s too late.

He’s trapped. They’re trapped.

He turns to glare at his latest Shadowhunter bodyguard, poised between Yu Wenzhou and the door with his blade raised. “I hope you’re happy now.”

Not for the first time, he laments the day Huang Shaotian roared into his life like a typhoon, loud and obnoxious and with no respect for Yu Wenzhou’s quiet life. He’s an accomplished fighter, that’s plain to see, but Yu Wenzhou has had doubts about his overall competence from the beginning. This mess of a trap has only confirmed what he suspected.

“Me?” Huang Shaotian points at his own chest with the hand not holding his mundane sword, as if Yu Wenzhou could be speaking to anyone else.

“I told you not to bring anything with adamas to this place. The warlock who owns this place hates Shadowhunters. All her worst traps are sprung by adamas.” Yu Wenzhou regrets not physically searching his new bodyguard before allowing him along on their first outing together.

He should have known better to think a Shadowhunter would listen to a warlock. It always took them a few months in his employ to learn basic respect. This one in particular seems more interested in listening to his own voice than following orders.

“Wait, wait, wait. That’s not what you said, Yu Wenz—excuse me, High Warlock Yu. If you’d said that, I would have done it. I know how to listen, I’m a great listener. You said not to bring my seraph blade or my stele and look,” he twirls in place, showing off his empty thigh and back holsters. And incidentally, a very nicely shaped backside. “I only brought the sword you gave me. See, do you see? You might be very smart, but you’re also very wrong.”

The unexpected compliment throws him but he brushes it aside. “You must have missed something because look around, the trap is sprung. We’re trapped here.”

“I didn’t miss a blade. I did what you said,” Huang Shaotian insists. After a beat, he presses his lips together in thought and pulls out a necklace from beneath his black tactical gear. “My necklace had adamas in it. Maybe next time tell me why you want me to do something, instead of treating me like an idiot and leaving me in the dark. Do you treat all your bodyguards like this?”

Yu Wenzhou searches his memories and feels a flush of embarrassment. The Shadowhunter is right. He’d specified seraph blade and stele in his preparatory instructions, not adamas. Huang Shaotian followed him to the letter. Unfortunately, he’d been chattering non-stop during their preparations, something about why everyone called him the Sword Saint. Yu Wenzhou had tried to tune it out as he went over his part of the plan but he had reluctantly learned that the ridiculous nickname was one Huang Shaotian gave himself. If Yu Wenzhou hadn’t been so irritated at nearly being late, he might have been charmed.

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Yu Wenzhou says. He pauses and adds, “My apologies, Huang Shaotian, it won’t happen again,”

It’s not just lip service. Yu Wenzhou is far from perfect but he doesn’t make the same mistake more than once. And as it turns out, Huang Shaotian is sharper than he appears at first glance.

“Apologies later. I don’t plan on dying here so let’s concentrate on not dying.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he sheaths his sword and stalks off to prowl the edges of the room, searching for weaknesses.

The warehouse is large, an old storage facility gone to seed. The weak overhead lights flicker as they open the boxes and search for anything they can use to escape. Most wards this strong are anchored by a physical object but Yu Wenzhou doubts the object is within the bounds of the wards. A powerful enough warlock could keep the object with them and the warlock who set them up was more than powerful enough.

For the sake of thoroughness, Yu Wenzhou, examines each of the sigils on the doors and windows with exploratory tendrils of magic. It confirms what he already knows. The spells used to seal the room were perfectly cast. The only curiosity is the strange variation in part of the magic. Some kind of clause for breaking it, though the terms for fulfilling it are vague.

Something about The Kiss to End Life. Talk about needlessly dramatic.

The occasional banging and tapping comes from where Huang Shaotian is probing the physical defenses of the room, chattering to himself while he works. His voice echoes off the metal walls and for a brief moment, Yu Wenzhou is struck by the horrifying thought that Huang Shaotian has managed to replicate himself into multiple copies, all of them speaking rapid-fire nonsense. Thankfully, it’s nothing but a flight of fancy and perhaps a sign that Yu Wenzhou is stretching himself too thin lately.

From the frustrated look on Huang Shaotian’s face, there won’t be any forcing their way out.

Eventually, they both give up on the main room and branch out. The only object of note is a table in the center of the largest of the secondary rooms. It probably functioned as an office when the warehouse was in use. On the shabby, dusty desk is a single vial of liquid.

Huang Shaotian brings the vial to his nose and sniffs. And curses.

“What is it?” Yu Wenzhou asked.

“Poison. Really bad poison, ugly poison. Nasty stuff.” Huang Shaotian frowns. “You ever heard of Death’s Kiss?”

Yu Wenzhou takes a step backwards before he can help himself. “Yes.”

“I figured as much. It’s deadly to warlocks.” It’s hard to say whether the amusement in his voice is a threat or merely the type of dark humor common to a race of people whose life expectancy doesn’t often exceed twenty-five. “It isn’t much better for Shadowhunters,” he adds with a laugh, and that settles that question.

The quirk about the wards tugs at his mind. The line about the kiss to end life isn’t difficult to decode. If one of them drinks the poison, the wards will come down.

Yu Wenzhou is suddenly grateful he held back that particular bit of knowledge from Huang Shaotian. He has no intention of sacrificing his bodyguard to save his own life but he can’t say for certain whether that courtesy extends both ways.

He’s still pondering the implications when Huang Shaotian picks up a folded piece that had been placed under the vial. “Looks, there’s a note.” He wrinkles his nose when a plume of dust rises up into his face. “Ugh I hate old creepy buildings almost as much as this old, stupid language.”

Yu Wenzhou peers over his shoulder and is surprised when he can’t read the writing. He’s been around for a millennia, there aren’t many languages that are a mystery to him. This one isn’t unknown to him, but in this case, his knowledge doesn’t help. “That’s a Shadowhunter language.”

Huang Shaotian nods. The crease between his brows deepens as he reads. “Oh wow, this warlock really doesn’t like you,” he says. “Is she your ex or something?”

“Or something.” Yu Wenzhou would prefer not to dwell on their history. “I might have embarrassed her when she made a bid for High Warlock of Guangzhou about fifty years ago and failed miserably.”

“I’m no expert on women but I think she still has a grudge. You should send her flowers or something. Or jewelry, that’s what they do in the dramas I—I mean, my friend—the dramas my friend watches.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, the note says that if I force this poison down your throat, the wards will drop and I can walk out of here alive.”

Yu Wenzhou goes from trying not to laugh at his bodyguard’s antics to springing backwards, his magic rushing to his hands.

Any spell powerful enough to fight off a Nephilim will take time to cast. Time he doesn’t have. Ironically, this is exactly what he needs a bodyguard for.

The sad part is that he understands why Huang Shaotian would betray him. From day one, he made it clear this assignment was a punishment from his superiors, and that he’d much rather be killing demons than playing babysitter to some stuffy warlock with slow magic, and how could a warlock even have slow magic anyway? The fact is, he has no real reason to be loyal.

Killed by his own bodyguard. Life has always enjoyed laughing at Yu Wenzhou.

Except Huang Shaotian doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t attack, he doesn’t even draw his sword. His eyes dart between Yu Wenzhou’s faintly glowing hands and his defensive stance. “What are you doing?” His nose wrinkles in a way that could almost be called cute except that he’s a trained killer by birth. “Wait, wait, wait, you don’t think—do you think I’m going to kill you?”

“You wouldn’t be the first who’s turned on me.” It’s both an answer and a warning.

Surprise fades into alertness, like Huang Shaotian is suddenly considering the need to defend himself against Yu Wenzhou. “Did you get your own note? Are you trying to kill me? Most people say it takes at least a week for the talking to make them want to do murder. This is a new record.”

Against all odds, Huang Shaotian laughs, warm and amused, the same way he does when he’s talking to himself and breaking Yu Wenzhou’s concentration. The edge of an angry black rune flashes against his collarbone in the flickering light. Who knows, maybe to a Shadowhunter, a fight to the death is amusing. They’ve always been a strange breed. Yu Wenzhou considers being offended but decides he has bigger things to worry about.

Luckily, the unexpected diversion works to his favor. He’s nearly halfway through his silent casting. Halfway towards being able to defend himself. Each passing second feels like a year but he’s slowly closing the gap.

Between them, the vial of poison sits innocuously on the table.

Something settles in Huang Shaotian’s gaze, though whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is too soon to tell. Yu Wenzhou braces himself for the worst. His magic may not be ready to use yet, but he trained extensively in mundane martial arts for exactly this type of situation. It’s not enough to defeat an armed Shadowhunters but it doesn’t need to be. It only needs to be enough to keep him alive until his spell is ready.

“You’re a powerful warlock, right? That’s what everyone says. The High Warlock of Guangzhou is scary strong, it’s too bad his magic is so slow.” When Yu Wenzhou doesn’t answer, Huang Shaotian makes a hurry up gesture. “Well, are you good at magic or not?”

“I am. What does that have to do with anything?”

Huang Shaotian’s eyes are bright, like he’s found the flaw in the neatly laid trap they’re in and is excited for the opportunity to burst it wide open. “If the wards came down, could you get us out of here? Both of us?”

Yu Wenzhou looks at him strangely, not sure where this is going. Because the wards can’t come down. The only option is the poison. Whatever Huang Shaotian is seeing is beyond Yu Wenzhou and that makes him uncomfortable.

He answers anyway. Huang Shaotian has earned his honesty, at the very least. “Yes.”

“Okay.” And with that, Huang Shaotian grabs the vial of poison and drinks the entire thing in one large swallow. “Don’t leave me behind, okay,” he mumbles, before staggering to his knees with a crunching sound that makes Yu Wenzhou wince.

He stares in shock. A tiny part of his brain is impressed; it’s been centuries since anyone managed to truly shock him.

The wards trapping them fall. There’s no outward physical difference but Yu Wenzhou can feel it humming against his skin, a pressure value suddenly released.

“Yu Wenzhou,” Huang Shaotian’s voice is barely more than a rasp, the poison already ravaging his body. “A little faster if you don’t mind.” Huang Shaotian sways forward, and it’s enough to break Yu Wenzhou out of his stupor.

He rushes forward and catches him before he can crash face first into the concrete floor. “Huang Shaotian, what did you do?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart. I saved us. I did my job, now it’s your turn.” His forehead is drenched in sweat, his normally sharp eyes glazed. There's a faint smile lingering on his lips.

If he was a warlock he’d already be dead. As it was, he doesn’t have much time left.

Yu Wenzhou turns his concentration inwards, letting his eyes fall shut. The incantation to his previous spell is still unfinished and it’s only minor work to take the building power and twist it into a new form. The magic quivers beneath his skin, eager to be used but still too wild to be controlled. He takes a breath and calmly, quietly, coaxes it to do his bidding.

It’s harder than it should be. There’s an unexpected, persistent thread of worry and fear clouding his mind. His eyes keep glancing down to where Huang Shaotian is slumped against his chest. He’s shaking now, tremors swelling into convulsions as the poison spreads. He looks nothing like the fierce, loud Shadowhunter who told Yu Wenzhou off for keeping mission-critical knowledge from him.

He nearly sobs in relief when his magic finally flares to life in his hands. Mustering this much power for two different spells in quick succession has left him exhausted, but there isn’t time for fatigue and so he ignores it. He wraps his arms around Huang Shaotian’s back, pushing as much magic as he dares into him. It’s not an antidote and it won’t save him but it will hopefully keep him alive until Yu Wenzhou can fix this.

By the time he waves his arms in the familiar gesture of a portal, Huang Shaotian is unconscious. Even in sleep, his face is creased, like he’s still in pain.

Yu Wenzhou gathers him into his arms and takes them home.

.

Huang Shaotian has never been hit by a mundane car but if he was, he imagines it would feel like this. And by that he means really crappy. He aches so deep down even his bones hurt, and his head feels slow and fuzzy.

That’s alright, though. Pain means he’s alive.

The last thing he remembers is drinking poison like an idiot—and hasn’t Su Mucheng told him a million times that the biggest threat to his own safety is himself—and then nothing but agony. There’s a vague impression of strong arms and being carried and he really hopes he hallucinated that part because it’s not quite the impression he wanted to make on his first mission of his new assignment with stupidly good looking High Warlock Yu Wenzhou. His hot but stodgy boss aside, he has bigger problems. Like figuring out what happened.

Opening his eyes is a struggle, but it’s one that he wins. Of course he wins, he always wins.

The room around him is thankfully dim, but even the small amount of light makes him wince. Through the haze of his slow brain, recognition filters in. He knows this place. A rush of relief sweeps over him. He’d been pretty sure Yu Wenzhou had saved them but it’s nice to get confirmation he’s not in enemy hands. Tense muscles relax and he lets himself sink into the comfort of the very soft mattress under him.

A soft mattress. This isn’t his room at the institute (not that his room there has an uncomfortable bed, but it’s the firmer kind of mattress he prefers). This here is his room in Yu Wenzhou’s home. He tries not to spend too much time here if he can help it, but he needs to learn Yu Wenzhou’s habits well enough to fight alongside him, well enough to protect him, and that’s easier to do if they’re living under the same roof.

He blinks the haze from his eyes, taking in the weapons rack in the corner, the books on art and history and weapons lining the bookshelf, arranged by color because he likes the horrified expression on peoples’ faces when they realize.

The opposite wall is a bright, cheery blue when the lights are on, but right now it looks like a dark shadow in the poor lighting. He likes the way it stands out against the soft gray of the rest of the room’s walls. The room is decorated with photographs of far off places he’s never seen, and the occasional mounted sword. The night table next to the bed is clean except for the knife he sleeps with and a photograph of him and his friends.

He wonders if they know he nearly died. He can’t hear Su Mucheng chewing anyone out so he thinks maybe they don’t. He suddenly feels very alone in this empty room.

And then the dark lump of blankets at the foot of the bed shifts and he realizes it’s not a lump of blankets at all, but High Warlock Yu Wenzhou, sprawled forward in a chair and sleeping with his head on against Huang Shaotian’s bed.

That can’t be good for his back is, strangely, the first thing that crosses his mind.

He must still be woozy, because Yu Wenzhou pulls himself up with excruciating slowness. A popping sound echoes through the room as he twists towards one side and then the other. Once he’s straightened his glasses, he looks straight at Huang Shaotian and says, “As a matter of fact it’s not, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with magic.”

What the hell is Yu Wenzhou doing sleeping by his bedside, holding vigil like they’re friends or something? Like he’s worried. They barely tolerate each other. Surely Yu Wenzhou has better things to do with his time (and his back) than keep watch over someone who’s basically his employee.

And perhaps more urgently, “Please don’t tell me you’re a mind-reader, too. Have you been listening to my thoughts? You should ignore the ones from 3pm yesterday. And also the ones right before bed and in the shower, I take no responsibility for those, I’m still a young guy, you know. Not all of us are old and boring because we’ve been around for a thousand years.”

Yu Wenzhou laughs, he actually laughs. Huang Shaotian’s been here for nearly a month and he’s never heard him laugh before. It’s a nice laugh. A warm laugh. “No mind reading, Huang Shaotian. You spoke out loud.”

“Oh. You can just forget all that, let’s pretend it never happened.”

“Okay,” Yu Wenzhou says.

It’s annoying to try and see in the dark and so Huang Shaotian leans over and taps the fancy alarm clock he bought himself that also doubles as a light. He bites back a hiss when his body protests the movement. And yeah, he can take a hint; no more moving until he feels a little less like he nearly died. Which he did—nearly die, that is—so that’s probably a good plan on his part.

When his eyes adjust, he blinks just to make sure he isn’t seeing things.

At the foot of the bed, Yu Wenzhou looks the most rumpled Huang Shaotian has ever seen him. His glasses are askew on his face and his clothes from last night’s failed appointment are dirty and wrinkled. Even his hair is astray, sticking up on the side of his face that was laying against the bed.

He looks unkept. And worried.

And that, well…Huang Shaotian’s not sure what to do about that. He can handle an angry Yu Wenzhou and a powerful Yu Wenzhou and even a condescending Yu Wenzhou, but a concerned Yu Wenzhou is new territory for them.

Huang Shaotian deals with it the same way he deals with everything. He runs his mouth. Sue him, it’s a tried and true strategy and he’ll fight anyone who says that his words aren’t as powerful as his seraph blade. Patting the side of his own hair, he says, “Um, High Warlock Yu, your hair is…um, you might want to take a look at that. You can’t expect anyone to take you seriously looking like an escapee from an evil hair salon”

Yu Wenzhou lets out a small huff and smiles. “You saved my life, Huang Shaotian, you can use my name.”

Oh fuck, is this going to weird now? Huang Shaotian has just gotten used to the way things are. He talks and his hot boss glares. It’s a good routine and sure, it’s annoying that the guy clearly thinks Huang Shaotian is an idiot, but he;s used to being underestimated at first glance. “Alright. Yeah, I guess I did save your life, Yu Wenzhou. Don’t go getting weird on me, now. I just did my job.” He pauses and tries again “Your hair really is a mess, did you know?”

Yu Wenzhou tilts his head, the hint of a smile spreading on his lips. He doesn’t fix the half of hair that looks like a hedgehog stuck its snout in an electrical socket, and it’s very distracting. “I find it difficult to tell when you’re being sincere and when you’re backtalking. Do you do that on purpose?”

This isn’t the conversation Huang Shaotian expects to be having at—he looks over at his cool alarm clock that can simulate the sunrise and notes the time—nearly four o’clock in the morning. He laughs, a little uncomfortable. “I think you’ve got it wrong, High War—I mean, Yu Wenzhou. I’m an open book, I say exactly what’s on my mind. Anyone will tell you the same.”

“You have a lot of people fooled.”

He’s right, but Huang Shaotian is in too much pain to lower his guard enough to admit it. He grew up in an entire Institute filled with attractive people, it takes more than a nice smile to get him to crack. “What do you want me to say?”

Thankfully, Yu Wenzhou doesn’t press him. He merely nods and asks “How are you feeling?”

“Like I drank poison.”

Yu Wenzhou laughs. “You’ll make a full recovery. I had the antidote in my potions stores and we got it to you in time. The residual aches should fade in a day. Let me know if they don’t, or if they get to be too much.”

“You’re not going to dock my pay for using up your pricey potions, are you?”

“I don’t pay you. I pay your Institute.” Yu Wenzhou presses his lips together, eyes scanning over Huang Shaotian as if physically checking him over. His voice is soft when he asks, “Why did you do it? You could have been killed. What were you thinking?”

It’s the same question Huang Shaotian has asked himself more than once. Like a coward, he takes the easy way out. “I was thinking it’s my job to keep you alive. I was thinking it was our only way out. And I was right. Don’t try to tell me I’m not because I am.”

“It was my mistake that got us trapped. It was my responsibility to fix it.”

And fuck, if Yu Wenzhou goes on like this, Huang Shaotian might actually start to be attracted to his personality as much as his stupidly good-looking face. “Yeah, it was. But you seem like the kind of guy who learns his lesson pretty quick. So don’t do it again and we’ll call it even.”

Yu Wenzhou frowns, and inwardly, Huang Shaotian groans. He’s too tired for wherever this conversation is going. “You still should have waited for me. You know my magic is slow. What if I wasn’t ready in time and you died?” By the time he’s finished, Yu Wenzhou looks angry. Angry like he was when he thought Huang Shaotian didn’t follow his directions, which is…more than a little strange. It’s not like he wouldn’t get a new bodyguard if Huang Shaotian kicked it.

“As if you’d care. You’ve hated me since I got here.”

“Do you really think that little of me? Do you think because I’m a warlock I don’t value the lives of the people around me?”

And shit, shit shit, he’s going to cause a diplomatic incident after his first assignment to the High Warlock. Only he could manage that while barely able to move. Ye Xiu is going to have him cleaning stinky ichor off blades for the rest of his life if he doesn’t fix this. “That’s not what I meant, High Warlock Yu.”

He struggles to sit up and a lance of fire races through his chest. Gasping, he falls back against the pillows, his vision going dark at the edges.

“Don’t move, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

When his vision clears, Yu Wenzhou is standing at the side of his bed, a hand hovering over Huang Shaotian’s chest.

His bare chest, Huang Shaotian realizes, when he looks down to see his runes on stark display. No point being embarrassed about that now. Besides, it’s not like he has much body modesty left. Showering in the Institute barracks saw to that a long time ago. It’s just that there’s something about Yu Wenzhou’s refined demeanor that makes him feel so much more exposed than he ever has standing bare-ass naked in the same room with a dozen other Shadowhunters.

No point worrying about that now. Yu Wenzhou has seen what he’s seen and it’s a small price to pay for not being dead. He puts on a smile, the one he knows for a fact irritates people. “I already hurt myself, remember.”

“How could I forget.” And that strange, fond tone is back. Huang Shaotian isn’t sure what it means but he kind of likes it. Or maybe it’s the residual effects of the poison rotting his brain.

Yu Wenzhou withdraws his hand back to his side, but not before Huang Shaotian notices the tremor in his fingers. “High Warlock Yu, are you—”

“I told you, no titles.” His voice has a worrying rasp to it that wasn’t there while he was seated.

Huang Shaotian has seen enough. He pats the empty strip of bed beside him. “Stop being a stubborn bastard and sit down before you fall down, Yu Wenzhou.”

“I’m fine. It’s been a long night, that’s all.” This close, the tight lines around Yu Wenzhou’s mouth are obvious. As are the tremors which have reached his shoulders, He looks like he’s one deep breath away from collapse.

The sight of him sleeping slumped over Huang Shaotian’s bed replays itself in his memory and he wonders whether part of the reason he stayed was because he was too drained of magic and strength to leave. He suddenly gets the feeling it took much more power to keep him from kicking the bucket than Yu Wenzhou has let slip.

Luckily, he’s spent enough time in the medical wing of the Institute to know how to get his way with stubborn Shadowhunters. He’s betting it works on warlocks, too. “If you fall down, I’m not scraping your sorry ass up off the floor, you got that? Or do you want me to injure myself worse after you spent all this time and magic on me?”

It works like a charm. With a faint nod, Yu Wenzhou sits. The bed dips with his weight. Immediately, some of the color comes back to his face.

Huang Shaotian thinks about all the teachers who lectured him about how Downworlders are different, are inferior. He looks at Yu Wenzhou who, despite his own exhaustion, rushed to his side when Huang Shaotian was in pain, and thinks those old lessons might be more than a little bullshit. If he’s learned anything in the last ten minutes, it’s that he’d drink poison for Yu Wenzhou again.

He thinks that might be a bit much to say right now. “You can stay here the night, I don’t mind,” is what he says instead. “Wouldn’t be the first time I shared a sickbed.”

Yu Wenzhou gives him a tired smile but doesn’t commit either way.

They sit like that, nearly close enough to touch, until he hears Yu Wenzhou’s breathing calm down into something approaching normal. “Hey, about what you said before. About how I should have waited for you to be ready before downing a poison shooter like a fraternity stud in a dive bar?”

Yu Wenzhou nods. “I don’t recall phrasing it like that, but yes.”

“You’re wrong. I didn’t need to wait. I’ve been watching you for weeks. You started casting the moment I read that note because you thought I was going to kill you. Wrong, wrong, wrong, you were so wrong all night, Yu Wenzhou. And by the way, but I won’t be offended this time that you thought I’m that type of person but if you do it again I’ll be very sad. But what I mean is that I drank the poison when I did because I knew you were almost ready with your magic.”

Yu Wenzhou’s breath hitches and he can practically see him wondering if Huang Shaotian purposefully read the note aloud to facilitate his plan.

“I didn’t plan it like that,” he answers the unasked question. “But once you went on the defensive, I saw the opportunity and I took it.”

“You’re very good at that.” Yu Wenzhou says. In the next breath, he lists to one side, barely catching himself from tumbling head first into the night table.

Huang Shaotian’s hand is already reaching out to steady him, but his help isn’t needed and he lets it drop back to his side. He keeps a closer eye on Yu Wenzhou, just in case.. “I’m not just good, I’m the best.”

Yu Wenzhou’s normally sharp gaze is dulled but his words are as sharp as usual. “Your first week here, you said you noticed holes in the protections on my home.”

“I did but you didn’t want to hear them. You said, ‘Huang Shaotian, you’re here to guard me not to poke holes in wards.’”

Yu Wenzhou nods his head. “I’d like to take you up on your offer.” He scoots forward so that he can lie down. It’s strangely intimate but Huang Shaotian doesn’t feel uncomfortable. “If I were to ask you what you noticed? Would you tell me?”

Huang Shaotian can feel his own exhaustion dragging him under, but still he answers. “Will you listen this time?”

“Yes,”

“Good. Okay yeah, we’ll do that,” Huang Shaotian mumbles, and lets himself lapse into tired silence. Beside him, Yu Wenzhou’s watches over him until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

He doesn’t realize at the time that Yu Wenzhou isn’t just answering that specific question. He’s making a promise.

Over the next several days, once they’re both recovered, Yu Wenzhou listens to his assessment of the ward placements. It’s only the beginning.

Because he doesn’t just listen to him when they’re working, he does it all the time.

Yu Wenzhou listens to him chatter about his seraph blades while he cleans them. He listens when Huang Shaotian complains about how bitter Yu Wenzhou’s coffee is on mornings when he’s so groggy he drinks from the wrong mug. He listens to him sing while he does the dishes, even when Yu Wenzhou argues it could be done faster with magic. He listens to him yell at the television when they’re watching trashy dramas.

He listens to everything. And he never stops.

#the king's avatar #yuhuang #tka fanfic #yu wenzhou #huang shaotian #tka sh au #ha i actually write something in this verse #thanks for the prompt this was super fun #lynne writes fic

[kitkatwinchester]

Okay! So!  SOMEHOW, I have had yet to share the links to my favorite fics that I bookmarked from the Irondad Big Bang, and that is a CRIME, because the work that these authors and artists put in and the way they came out is BEAUTIFUL!!! Plus, it breaks my rule of “share any story you bookmark”. So! I’m gonna fix that. 

That said, I want all of them to get credit, so I’m going to put all of them on one post so that stories don’t get overshadowed by the most recent post or anything, because they ALL deserve ALL of the credit, because these stories are AMAZING!!! 

To avoid this post being too long, I’m not gonna put warnings or anything, just the summaries and number of chapters, so make sure you read any and all tags before you actually start the stories, just in case! :) 

These aren’t ranked or anything. I’m just putting them in alphabetical order. :)

P.S. All artists are credited in the stories--they deserve recognition too, because their art work is beautiful, so make sure you check them out with the links provided!! :D <3  

Come, My Darling, Homeward Bound by @i-am-irondad Chapters Posted: 7/9 Updates: Sunday and Thursday 

Peter and Morgan have been imprisoned in an eleven-by-eleven foot shed, for almost five years. Morgan celebrates her sixth birthday, still under the naive impression that the shed, is the only place that exists. Peter is weighed down by his guilt of allowing her to live a lie.Set after Homecoming (Not an Infinity War or Endgame Compliant)

Friendly Fire by @jolinarjackson Chapters Posted: 9/12

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

Great Power, Greater Responsibility by @starjargon Chapters Posted: 15/16

King Anthony Stark isn’t a proponent of the debt-slave laws, but he’s not exactly opposed either. However, when he acquires a boy who needs his protection, he suddenly finds a reason to take a stand. And for the first time in his life, to care about someone else.

Ohana by @jen27ny Chapters Posted: 7/8 Updates: Sundays and Wednesdays

“HYDRA?” (The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a chill runs down his back. He dismisses it, thinking it’s because of the cold metal bedframe.) “Yes, HYDRA. Our home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Tony recruited Spider-Man during the debacle of the Sokovia Accords, he never thought it would lead to anything else but a mentorship; giving the boy a suit and a few pointers here and there. He never dreamt that Peter would charm his way into Tony’s life, claiming a spot right next to Morgan. For a while, it looked like the universe finally gave Tony a break.

Until Spider-Man suddenly disappears.

For two years, Tony doesn’t stop looking for him, doing everything in his power to bring the boy back. But to no avail. It’s like the earth opened up and swallowed him, leaving behind nothing but a Peter-shaped hole in Tony’s heart.

Then, during one mission, they meet a HYDRA agent who can stick to walls and has a very familiar face.

once upon a Reality by @the-reverse-mermaid​ Chapters Posted: 4/4

A supernatural stranger appears in Tony’s house to make him a deal: Peter has been taken, but if Tony can locate him in each of a series of fiction-based alternate universes, they can have each other back.

Along the way, they work a couple things out.

(Crack taken seriously, pretty much; based around the children’s story, “The Runaway Bunny”, featuring 6 different AUs)

no matter what (you keep finding something to fight for) by @rejectedmarvel​​ Chapters Posted: 3/24 Updates: Wednesdays and Fridays

Since the apocalypse graced the world, Tony Stark was no stranger to pain it unleashed. It was a second skin at this point, a looming presence weighing him down as he tries to make his way through a world gone mad. Tony likes being alone, not being too close to anyone. He can’t lose anyone else, never again.

But in this new world, the universe seems to keep sending people his way. Now, stumbling into the care of a wise-ass kid with Bambi eyes and a messy mop of brown curls, Tony is thrust into a new side of the apocalypse. Now on the race to a possible cure and the bubbling friendship with this kid, Tony may just have to face his many demons to make it out this journey alive.

Or

~ The Last of Us AU ~

North Star by @unfathomable-universe​ Chapters Posted: 5/13  Updates: Mondays and Thursdays 

They came in the middle of the night.

The signs were all there. His mother sewing their valuables into the lining of their coats. Photos and papers being burned in the fireplace. His father not returning from work that evening. Later, Peter would realize that the signs were there. Later, Peter realized his parents intended they escape.

They did not escape. They were arrested.

---------------------------------

An Irondad au of the book Between Shades of Grey by Ruta Sepeteys

The Lightning Strike by @booksxtvxsupernatural​​ Chapters Posted: 1/1

The day Thanos snapped his fingers, Peter was far, far away, surrounded by strangers, and with no hope of getting home. He could do nothing as the last infinity stone slid into place on a gauntlet covered hand, and could do nothing as Thanos disappeared from the face of the Earth.

He could do nothing as one by one, the heroes fell around him. He could do nothing as Tony Stark fell to his knees and crumbled before his eyes, cradling Peter's head in his hands.

No, Peter could not do anything then. But he could do something now. And maybe that would be enough. To bring everyone back, to save his aunt and friends and hero, he would stop at nothing. Time and space be damned.

This time, he would be right here, and he would fight to the bloody end before he let the universe take anything else from him.

That would have to be enough.

Let me just say: my comments on these people’s stories are...LONG as ALL HECK, because there are MANY EMOTIONS that come with these stories. I have to warn you of that now. For most of them, you’ll definitely want a box of tissues. 

Thank you to these amazing writers and artists for contributing to the Big Bang! I’m really lucky to have been able to read your stories, and for those that are unfinished, I’m so excited to see how your stories continue and eventually finish off!! You’re all amazing and I love you all!! <3 <3 

#writing #fan fiction #tony stark #peter parker #and then some #ironman #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson fanfic #irondad big bang 2020 #these people are seriously so talented #i'm honestly jealous lol #go give them love and support!! <3 <3

[ruensroad]

I LOVE YOUR FICS AND YOUR ART. GIVE ME SOME OF YOUR TALENT. If you're still taking requests, could you do *checks the prompt list nervously bc too many choices* either 13, 76 or 135 ??? Xicheng if you could, please please ?

Ahh, thank you so much! I’m so glad you’re enjoying everything :D

And I did Xicheng with 13 here!

This is a modern AU that I’ve had for a while, though I’m not sure if I’ll ever get around to writing it properly. Basically, Jiang Cheng comes from a family of empaths/psychics and has been cursed blessed with the strongest psychic ability in his entire family since his great-grandmother. Wei Ying - adopted because he too has some ability - convinces Jiang Cheng to use his gifts for the good of other people, so they both join the police force. Wei Ying is a medical examiner, given his gift of talking to the deceased is strongest when he’s literally talking to the dead body. In his mind, they sit up and talk to him and he can get a clue as to how they died, etc.. Jiang Cheng, who’s abilities are more far reaching and less dependent on physical remains, is a cold case detective. He takes on the case of the missing Nie Mingjue, and he quickly realizes that the man’s ghost is currently, and rather aggressively, protecting Lan Huan, a musician and artist. This takes place much farther along in the story, but honestly have fun imaging what you want! These prompts just worked too well for this AU I had to do it. ;v;

Prompt is from this list here.

Prompt 76 & 135 | “I think you need stitches.” & “Sing to me, please.” | Xicheng

“Fucking hate being right,” Jiang Cheng muttered as he slumped into the wall, ears still ringing from the close-quarter gunshot. Of all the nights to rush in without a vest… ah well, nothing to be done about that now. He was alive at the moment and functional enough to get back to where he left Lan Huan. Probably. Hopefully. That was what mattered.

(He was resolutely ignoring the way Nie Mingjue’s spirit was starting to solidify as the ghost stared at him in worry, which was never a good sign.)

“Don’t look at me like that.” Okay, so maybe he was looking. Sue him. Gasping, Jiang Cheng stumbled at the top of the stairs, grip shaking but solid enough on the rail. He was still vertical, at least. Progress. “I’m not going into the fucking light or whatever.”

I’m too pissed off to die, he didn’t say, didn’t have to, since Nie Mingjue could hear it anyway. The ghost looked more grim, but nodded once, even smiled a bit.

“That’s what I thought too. He proved me wrong.”

“No shit.” He perhaps shouldn’t waste precious energy on gesturing to a spirit’s general everything when no one could appreciate the joke but himself and the fucking dead guy. (And Wei Ying wondered why his sense of humor was so damn terrible. At least his dead people were remnants of lives, spirits, incorporeal. Wei Ying had the actual bodies to talk to which, yikes). “Fuck. Just tell me Lan Huan is safe.”

“He’s safe.” Nie Mingjue looked confident of that, which was more of a relief than it really should have been.

There had been no time between nearly being kissed and a red dot appearing on the wall between them. He didn’t know if Lan Huan had remained in the practice room, or had gone to the lobby for his brother, but as long as it was nowhere where the gunman had gone, Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

He stumbled again, this time bracing a wall with a blood slicked hand. He was losing traction and quick and blindly fumbled for his radio once it became clear to him he was not, in fact, going to make it back to Lan Huan. Feeling it broken and barely there between his fingers was hardly a surprise. Nothing had gone right today, after all. Why should this?

“Tell me he’s close,” he grit out and leaned heavily on his arm, the room starting to spin.

Nie Mingjue looked less confident that time, but remained just as determined as ever. “I’ll bring him.”

“He’s not a fucking empath, it doesn’t -” Jiang Cheng bit off a curse and lost balance, barely managing to slide down the wall instead of face planting right into the floor. The spirit was gone, disobedient as he was, which was fucking typical. “…doesn’t work like that, fucking fuck.”

Though perhaps Lan Huan had heard the gunshot, or would come looking for Jiang Cheng when he failed to return. The man was fool enough to put himself in danger like that for others. If he didn’t feel so damn fond about it all, Jiang Cheng would try to talk himself out of feeling such things for a hopeless, and rather helpless, beautiful being like Lan Huan. He’d nearly gotten the man shot today just going in to kiss him, for god’s sake. And he expected to get away with more? Ha!

His world was the unseen darkness between every human, after all. His eyes could see the demons people chained to their backs, saw the sorrow they hid behind smiles. Perhaps that was why he felt for Lan Huan the way he did - there was no mask there, not when he was with Jiang Cheng. That was what made it so hard to walk away from him too, captivating as he was, like a moth drawn into a flame after a long night in total darkness. Maybe he was just that lonely, maybe just that in love. It didn’t matter. Lan Huan didn’t belong in his world and he didn’t need some nosy ghost to argue that point at every turn.

A nosy ghost who’d actually made good on his word, somehow. He felt the impression of Nie Mingjue’s hand on his shoulder, a rush of energy sparking under his jacket, then Lan Huan was breathlessly racing up the stairs, eyes wild and frantic. When he spotted Jiang Cheng slumped against the wall he practically stumbled over himself to get there faster and more slid in front of Jiang Cheng then settled nicely. It was the most graceless he’d ever seen the man and he hated that it only made his feelings worse, damn it all.

“Detective?” A cool hand pressed to his forehead and he grunted in response, willing himself with all he had left to not burrow into Lan Huan’s welcoming touch. He had his pride.

“Pride means nothing if you’re dead,” Nie Mingjue pointed out somewhere looming over them, because of course he had something to say about this too.

You were shot in the face by the love of your life. Do I really want to take relationship advice from you?

“Point taken.”

“Detective!” Lan Huan sounded far more distraught now and Jiang Cheng realized, belatedly, that he had yet to answer him proper.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he grit out, trying to sit upright. The wound immediately pulled and he could feel the blood seeping between his fingers. At least he still had enough blood to bleed, something good to think about. “But I think he got away.”

“Who cares?” Lan Huan had gone a deathly pale, eyes wide and horror-filled at the sight of blood. Jiang Cheng was once more confronted by the knowledge this man literally knew nothing of practical matters, probably hadn’t even thought before racing up here. Useless man.

Jiang Cheng smiled at the thought, his body slowly relaxing down into something numb. “I also think I was shot,” he tried for something lighter. Well, lighter for him.

Amazingly, it got him a laugh. Hysterical on the edges, true, but there. “I’d have to agree.” Lan Huan’s hands fluttered over him, uncertain, and Jiang Cheng decided to take pity on him. Grabbing a slim wrist, he shoved Lan Huan’s hand under his jacket and over the wound, hissing between his teeth at the immediate pressure change.

“Push on it here, don’t let up,” he instructed, eyes fluttering a bit. Bad sign number two, that. With his other hand he gripped Lan Huan’s shoulder, grounding himself, and focused on staying conscious. “Do you have your phone? Call for an ambulance. Officer down.”

“I don’t,” Lan Huan whispered, voice trembling in fear. “But A-Zhan is downstairs, I believe he’s on the phone with your brother.”

Which meant the cavalry was due any minute. “Help me…” he flapped a useless hand. What were words, really? “Flat? I need to be flat. Keep pressure though.”

Lan Huan nodded curtly, but seemed far more himself with a clear goal in place. He got Jiang Cheng to the floor and propped up what Jiang Cheng instructed him to with the jacket Lan Huan literally ripped off of him. Hello strength kink, you can fuck right off.

“If you survive, you should actually accept his date,” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

You can fuck right off too, Jiang Cheng huffed, groaning as Lan Huan pressed into his wound again. “Fuck. Definitely was aiming for keeps, wasn’t he? Do you think I’ll live?”

Lan Huan panicked all over again, but still tried for him. Ridiculous, ludicrous man. “I think you’re going to need stitches,” he said, a trembling smile in place, and Jiang Cheng rasped a laugh. “A band-aid too. Maybe three.”

“Fuck, don’t make me laugh,” he cursed, but kept on a smile. If this was how the light found him, or hell pulled him under, there were worst ways to go. Hell, he was already looking up at an angel.

Shit, glad that wasn’t out loud.

“I’m not an angel,” Lan Huan laughed, pale but somehow sweet in his worry. “And that was out loud.”

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and willed the embarrassment to die quickly. He was not spending his last breaths mortified out of his mind. Fuck that.

“But if you are dying, why not just tell him what you really feel?”

You are nosier than your brother, Jiang Cheng spat at him, but it wasn’t nearly as harsh as he wanted, and forced his eyes to blink open. It was already getting harder than it should be.

“You are though,” he said, voice wrecked, but sure. He splayed his fingers weakly and Lan Huan’s free hand gripped him tight, trembling and still so cold, and he smiled even more to feel it. “An angel, I mean. To me.”

“An angel of music?” Lan Huan was still trying. Jiang Cheng probably was dying then.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng accepted that corny angle and was pleased to see a blush overtake Lan Huan’s face, though his eyes were also filling with tears. And that… that wouldn’t do.

“I hate hospitals,” he murmured, feeling like he was drifting away, but yet tethered to where Lan Huan was holding him. “White and sterile. Beeping machines, hate those. Drive me insane.”

He did his best to grip Lan Huan’s hand back when he felt it shake, but he wasn’t sure he was successful. “Come with me?”

“I’m not leaving your side,” Lan Huan told him, all stubbornness, and for once Jiang Cheng could believe such a thing. It was a relief to hear, especially as he lost the fight against his eyelids.

Trapped in darkness, he clung tighter to that spot of cold against his hand, the soft patter of tears falling on his face.

“Beeping,” he said again, focusing hard on that particular hate. “Distract me?”

A soft sob, half laugh, half tears, and a trembling kiss pressed under his left eye. Numb as he was, he felt something in him start to fly and hoped that didn’t mean he was leaving. Not yet. “Anything you want.”

Anything. A dangerous prospect, if a simple one. He smiled and squinted best he could, wanting to see those dark eyes that had haunted him throughout this entire mad case, especially if it was the last he’d see. He managed the vague shape of Lan Huan’s handsome face, his eyes two black pools of worry, somehow warm even in their darkness. Perfect.

“Sing?” The way mother used to when she rocked him to bed. The way A-Jie did when she tucked in A-Ling, a soft kiss to his temple. The way Wei Ying danced around his kitchen with a laughing A-Yuan, singing and wild and utterly happy. “Sing for me, please?”

His mind was already slipping, his hold on the world stretched too far for him to reach anymore, all save for where Lan Huan pressed into his wound, and where his other hand wrapped around his.

Where his lips rested on his own, brief and wet and heartbreaking. “If I had my way,” he heard the words, in his own head, in his own heart, and for once had no idea where they came from, “I’d sing for you for the rest of my life.”

#ruenwrites #writing prompts #ahhHHHHH #I've wanted to write this AU #FOREVER #AHHHHH #screams into the void #okay I feel better now #xicheng #jiang cheng #lan xichen #nie mingjue #modern au #jiang cheng being pestered all day by dead people is my jam tho #like #you think you have problems #i have a case i'm working on and you're not in it #'but i'm dead' #good for you asshole I'm clearly getting there #psychic detectives au

[multific]

Full Moon

Shawn Mendes x Reader

Halloween!AU

Summary: Being in love with someone is one thing, but being in love with the most feared and A well-known murderer is another.

Warnings: mention of murder and everything that has to do with it (blood, corpses, etc.), obsessed behavior, and slight abuse and mention of sex and sexual acts. If any of these subjects makes you uncomfortable, affects you in any way, upsets you or anything else, please do NOT read. This is your final warning!

 Shawn considered himself to be a normal twenty-one-year-old. He goes to college every day, he pays attention during classes, well most of the time. He likes to play hockey, he has many friends and he goes to parties almost every weekend.

He was also very popular among girls, his handsome face and well-built body was what most women wanted for themselves. But Shawn didn’t want any of them for more than a night.

Yes, he was a player. He was the kind of playboy who had a different girl every other day. He just didn’t care for any girls.  All he cared for is a good fuck and then he left without looking back.

About a month ago everything changed.

He and his friends went to a bonfire Halloween party. The party itself was great, the music was Shawn’s type and so were the women.

He laid his eyes on the freshmen, noticing a girl, she had long black hair which was curled, she had every curve right and her dark skin looked silky. And soon as the girl and Shawn’s eyes met, he knew he won her for the night.

He talked to the girl and all she needed was a solid five minutes of sweet-talking and Shawn was already in her pants.

They went into the near woods and he fucked her against a tree.

It was one of the best times, he ever had, and he was thankful that the girl didn’t want more, because as soon as they finished, she left without a word.

Shawn wanted to go back to his friends or find another partner for himself, but he heard a muffled noise a little further in the woods.

He walked that way. He expected to see another couple making out or having sex, but what he saw, changed not only his life but him as a whole man.

He saw a woman around his age or maybe a bit older dragging a bag into a hole. At first, he thought it was a prank, but when the large bag started to move and make noises, he realized, that there was a human in that bag. Shawn hid behind a tree to observe the situation. As the bag wiggled and cries came from it, the woman picked up a shovel near the hole and with one movement, she smashed it against the bag. A loud noise came from it and the bag stopped any movement. Shawn knew, whoever was in that bag just got hit in the head, with the edges of the shovel at that.

Soon blood stained the bag, and Shawn realized, he just witnessed a murder.

The woman dragged the bloody bag into the hole and said only one sentence.

“Try and steal other’s men now, bitch.”

Shawn’s eyes became round as the moon that evening. He had to admit that this was the most dangerous situation he ever seen, his heart was pounding out of his chest as he watched from the dark as the woman covered back the hole. He intently watched the females back and started contemplating, should he tell others, should he call someone, should he capture her and bring her to the police? He didn’t know what to do.

In the end he picked his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911, but before he could press the green button, he took one last look at the woman. She was now looking beside herself and Shawn could see her face.

She was the most beautiful human he has ever seen. Unconsciously he locked his phone up and stared at the woman as she just stood there looking up at the sky with a wicked smile on her face. She spoke up again, talking to herself.

“Idiotic whore, no one messes with my friends, no one.”

Shawn now understood the situation. The person in the bag, who was now underground, either flirted or stole a friend of hers boyfriend. And in exchange, she killed her.

She was a maniac. A psychopath. A dangerous person who deserved to rot in jail.

And yet, Shawn found her to be gorgeous, found her voice to be the best melody he ever heard.

He became obsessed.

He never talked about the incident to anyone as Shawn went back to his normal everyday life.

***

The next week he saw the news of a girl saying that she disappeared and there were no traces left behind. The police suspected that either her uncle or a serial killer killed her.

A few days later he saw an article about a serial killer.

The news called the killer Full Moon, since they killed when it was full moon, creative huh?

Shawn realized that the girl he just saw, the killer that they are looking for, he saw her.

He could never forget a face like that. He wanted to see her again, hear her voice. He wanted to be with her, help her, anything.

That’s when his life took a huge turn.

HE never touched another woman, not even when they throw themselves at him. He didn’t care anymore.

All he wanted is that woman.

He didn’t care that she was a killer, he loved her.

His obsession, it turned to love. At least, what he thought love was.

He did research.

He read every single article that was written about her. He ever read the police statements.

He read many books about serial killers in general and he even watched interviews with them.

To the people around him, nothing changed about Shawn. But when he was at his home, his true obsessed self came out.

And after half a year passed, he decided, he wanted to see her, he needed it.

Shawn thought of ways to make her come out, as he discovered, she not only killed women but men too. She didn’t care about race or gender, and there wasn’t a typical profile that she killed. That’s why she was so well-known and dangerous. No one could catch her since she didn’t seem to kill out of anger, but rather, for fun. And it wasn’t like she killed only blondes, no she didn’t care.

Shawn had tried to find her through the girl that he saw her kill. He looked up on the girl’s profile to find the guy and he even looked on the college’s website in hopes of finding her. But nothing. Either she was really good at hiding, which she was, or she didn’t go to that school.

Little did Shawn know that luck was on his side.

One night, it was raining cats and dogs outside. He knew that night was supposedly a full moon. He was walking around town to catch the tiniest glimpse at his obsession.

But as the rain started, he needed shelter, the closes option was a church as he ran in.

He entered the holy place and sat at the bench. Although his family was religious and brought him to pray many times, he just never actually believed in it.

He looked at the huge cross right across from him and then up at the ceiling.

It wasn’t the biggest church, but the sound of the rain echoed through the whole place. Then he noticed burning candles. He thought that the priest might be there somewhere.

Then he heard a loud thud that echoed through the church. He slowly stood from the bench and went to the direction of the sound. He figured that the priest might have fallen or something. But he didn’t call out.

He walked further in and surely enough, the priest was lying on the floor in his office. Since the door was open Shawn saw that the priest was still alive.

But when he moved to help him, a figure blocked his view of the holy man on the floor.

It was her.

She was there. Right in front of him.

Shawn heard the priest moaning in agony and the woman stabbed him in the throat to silence him. Shawn took a step back but his slightly wet shoes made a squeaky noise against the marble floor. Alerting the female of his presence. Shawn closed his eyes only for a millisecond but as he opened it he saw the woman quickly walking towards him with a large knife in her hand. As a defense, he put his hand out in front of him. Sure, he was taller and more muscular than her, but she had experience in killing. And without hesitation she would do it. As Shawn put his hand out, she slashed in creating a big cut right across his palm, the wound was deep and it hurt like hell for him.

But before she could strike again Shawn instead of defending himself, just stood still. Awaiting the knife to slice right into his chest or neck to kill him. But it never came.

He looked at the confused female in front of him.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to defend yourself? Come on! Give me some fun, Pretty Boy!”

Shawn couldn’t help but melt at her voice, the same voice that he heard eight months ago.

“I know everything about you.” he didn’t know when he found his voice

“Great most people do.”

“No, I’m different. I-I love you.”

She let out the most horrifying, scary laughter, but to him, it was like an angel giggling. The whole church got filled with her laughter.

Tears appeared in the corner of her eyes as she stopped laughing. To any other viewer, her laugh would be compared to a demon’s, but in Shawn’s eyes, all he saw was sparkles and her beautiful smile.

“Love?? And they say, I’m insane?!” she laughed some more and it made Shawn smile a bit. “Did you hit your head or something Handsome?”

“N-no. I just. I saw you eight months ago in the woods, and ever since, I wanted to meet you.”

“You saw me?” she looked at him like he had two heads. How did an average guy like him manage to sneak up on her, see her and he didn’t even call anyone.

What level of fucked up was that?

“Well, then Pretty Boy, I can’t let you go now, can I?” a smirk was now on her face, she debated where to stab him, in the throat would give her that wonderful view of her victim choking on their own blood while she watched as the life left their eyes. Or in the heart? Immediate death and the nuisance that is him would be gone in a second.

Or…

Shawn spoke up before she could decide.

“I don’t care if you kill me.”

“You really are not normal.”

“I’m happy now, I managed to meet with you, and I not only spoke to you, but I was able to see you laugh. I can die happy now.”

Her twisted mind began to work quicker than ever. There was a man standing right in front of her, who would do anything for her. She can use that to her advantage.

“What’s your name?”

“Shawn.”

“Well then, Shawn. Let me tell you this. I won’t kill you, but in exchange, you’ll have to follow me wherever I go. No questions, you’ll do as I say. You’ll be my personal little pet.” a sinister smile displayed on her face as she looked him in the eye. And he saw it lit up with….joy?

How sick was this man?

“Really? Thank you! That’s more than I ever wished for!”

“Do you have a house?”

“Apartment.”

“Great, let me just display that guy for the police, I know they like to take nice pictures. And after that, take me to your place, and there better be some food!” she said as she pointed at the dead corpse behind her.

Shawn only nodded and she left to finish her art.

“Come here and drag him out.”

“WAIT. Don’t get your blood on him.” she said. Shawn completely forgot about the cut on his palm. He wrapped a cloth around his hand and did as he was told.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked as she walked around the priest. Shawn only stood there, watching her. Then she abruptly stopped and looked up at the cross. “I know.” she said with a smirk.

“Clean your blood up.” She said when her art was done.

***

Back at his apartment he cleaned and bandaged up his wound. He could barely contain his excitement, his love, the woman that stole his heart was right there, in his kitchen eating his dinner. But he didn’t care, all that mattered was that she was finally there, and he was her pet.

“Now, don’t get cocky, Pet. I can still kill you.”

“Right.” he said as he sat down in front of her by the table.

“But if you can please me, I won’t kill you.”

“P-please?” Shawn heard the slapping noise before he felt the pain on his cheek.

“I said no questions!” she yelled.

“Sorry.” he said.

“You will do as I say and if you can fuck me right, you get to stay alive. Aren’t I generous?”

“You are.” he said as he looked her in the eye. Hers was full of insanity and mischief.

She stood from the table and grabbed his neck. Slightly applying pressure, she slowly started to suffocate him.

“Don’t fail me. I’d hate to slice such a pretty face off.”

***

He delivered.

Oh, he delivered so well. Everything was perfect about his body for her. From his muscular built to his length and girth. The way she rode him, stretching her to perfection, reaching points she never felt before. 

Four hours.

That’s how long they have been at it.

Four hours and he convinced her that she can use him for more than murder and to achieve her art. The art of death.

Shawn was in a state of bliss as she slept beside him. He couldn’t believe what he just did with her. His heart was pounding so hard, he felt like he would get a cardiac arrest. He even earned to know her name. Her lovely name, Y/N. He didn’t know if it was her real name or a made-up name. But he didn’t care, at least he knew what to call her. Full Moon would have been weird after some time.

***

Falling in love was with a murderer was Shawn’s biggest sin. Not only could the fact that he volunteered to help her be bigger. Not only the fact that he killed for her, numerous times. Not only the fact that he ran from the law to be with her.

And he truly fell in love. Two weeks after he met her. It wasn’t obsession anymore, well maybe a bit of that too, but the main feeling in his heart was love.

But someone like her did not feel love, she felt possession. He was her property now, her only toy to play with.

She was a psycho, a killer, a murderer, and he loved her.

 Taglist: imreadinggoaway fleursirvart  v-2bucky ehsebastian  crunch-time-sports pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmiler smexylemony greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd thisismysecrethappyplace sincerelyfan theoneanna aestheticsandmarvel rororo06 castellandiangelo avengers-r-us destynelseclipsa castellandiangelo  spilledinkindumpster celebsimagines capsiclesdoll firstangeldragonranch 

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Feedback means EVERYTHING to me, so please take the time and tell me how you liked my story. Thank You~

A/N: A little something for Halloween. Hope you liked it!

#shawn #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes smut #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes x reader #mendes #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x chubby reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes halloween #halloween au #halloween fanfiction #spooktober #spooktober fanfic #AU #AU fanfiction #college au

[floatingpetals]

Boys in Blue || Pt. 6

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, language, floof

Word Count: 4500+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: Thank you for everyone who has been so patient for this part! It’s a longer part and I wanted to make sure I got it right. I also think I needed that break to get my brain working right again. I hope you all enjoy!! Let me know what you think! 

The gif is mine.

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Series Masterlist

Y/N sat back, her brows furrowed, and her mouth wide open with shock. She wasn’t sure she heard him right and even if she did, where the hell did they get that idea from?

Bucky and Steve were staring at her with wide eyes, confused and touch hurt. How did she not know she was their girlfriend? It wasn’t like they just assumed they were dating. They had talked about this before. Bucky and Steve shared a look, the same question. Right?

“What did you just say?” Y/N asked quietly. Steve swallowed loudly.

“Um… That I was going to kiss my girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that. Wh- I’m not your girlfriend though.”

Now Steve was really confused. He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“Yes? You are our girlfriend?” He said uncertainly, his voice wavering slightly. Y/N clambered off his lap to stand in front of them both with her pointer fingers up as she tried to grasp the conversation.

“Our?” Y/N squeaked, turning to Bucky with comically wide eyes. “I’m sorry what?! No, I’m not!”

“Yes! You are! You agreed to it!” Bucky countered back, equally getting worked up alongside Y/N. She blinked, completely stunned.

“What?! When the hell did I agree to that?” She cried. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that!”

“How-how do you not remember? It was when we went to Uncle Julio’s forever ago.” Steve replied.

“The place you said the beans tasted like they were from a can and that Steve thought the salsa was too spicy,” Bucky added. Y/N vaguely remembered the restaurant. They had gone to a few since.

“Right.” Y/N said slowly. “They had really good margaritas though.”

“Right,” Bucky nodded. “And that was the same night when we asked you what you were looking for in relationships.”

Y/N paused. Now that she thought back, she did remember that question. At the time, she thought it was a little odd that they had asked that question, but she didn’t have an issue with it.

“I vaguely remember that. It was cause of something Maddie said about her husband, right?”

“It’s what led up to it, yes,” Steve nodded. “I suppose the two margaritas you had to even be able to stomach the food helped, but you told us everything you were looking for.”

“Someone smart, confident, faithful, funny, honest, someone you feel comfortable enough with to wear sweats and no makeup around,” Bucky listed off the traits she had said so long ago, counting with his fingers. Y/N’s face burned.

“Wow, I sure said a lot.” She mumbled, looking at the feet.

“Yup. You were pretty open. Now I’m understanding why.” Steve shrugged. It was slowly dawning on him that maybe, just maybe there was a loss in communication. He let out a heavy sigh, falling back into the cushions. “After probably the best monolog ever, Bucky asked you if you were willing to give us a shot.”

Now she remembered. She must have blocked absolutely mortifying that memory from her brain. She had only known them for a month at that moment in time, and she laid out her heart for them. It wasn’t hard with these two. They were so easy to be comfortable around, neither demanding she acted like someone she wasn’t or judging her on who she was. They accepted her with open arms. When she did finally stop her rant, she downed the rest of the margarita and turned to Bucky, who had been wearing the blissful grin on his face. At the time, she thought he was one of the most handsome men alive and was completely thrown by his next question. It was so out of the blue, it must have been why it never registered.

“I-I mean, yeah. You asked, but I thought-.” She thought he was joking. “I thought you were joking!”

“Right, but you laughed and said ‘Sure why not!’ We thought it was weird how you played it off, but not once did you say you assumed we were joking!” Steve stated. Y/N turned to him with a panicked look in her eye.

“B-but we’ve not been dating!” She tried to deny. It was feeble, her brain was racing through every memory she had of the past two months. And so far, the facts were stacked against her.

“Technically, we thought we were!” Bucky pointed between Steve and him. “Do you really think we eat out every other weekend?”

“Or willingly without complaint hold your bags while you shop?” Steve added. “Or take you out to lunch whenever we get the chance?”

“Yeah, but… You’re together!” Y/N reasoned. They shared a perplexed look and shrugged.

“Well yeah we are, but we figured you’d figure it out when you agreed to date us,” Steve said slowly. His mild amusement was slowly melting away when the severity of this conversation hit him. She had a clue they were a couple already, but she didn’t know she was apart of their relationship either.

“Guess we should have talked a little bit more about this after the margarita’s left your system,” Bucky muttered. He too was quickly concluding that this supposed relationship was only that to them. Y/N hadn’t the slightest clue that they were quickly falling for her and how absolutely happy she had been making them both the past two months. It was all one-sided, and clearly, they were to blame.

“That explains all the hugs and the kisses on the cheeks.” Y/N uttered, unaware of their sinking turmoil. Steve nodded numbly.

“We figured you weren’t into PDA at that much, so we kept it as minimal as possible until you gave us the clear.” He replied softly. Y/N finally looked up, her heart cracking in her chest at the sadness written across their faces. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with our PDA either, so we kept our hands to ourselves as best we could.”

“That’s why you acted like you were worried I see.” Y/N whispered. “You were worried it was going to make me upset?”

“Yeah, you never said you hated it, but you never initiated it yourself. We thought since this was such a new and different kind of relationship for you, you’d need time. Now it’s become clear, you didn’t even know we thought the three of us were in a relationship.” Bucky said with a dejected tone. On any other given day, Y/N would warp him up in her arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. However, right now, she was still reeling from the latest development.

“So, you're telling me, that for the past two months, you both assumed I knew we were dating? And neither of you thought to double check with me and make sure I was up to speed with you both?”

To both their credit, Steve and Bucky winced and at least looked embarrassed. They had been both so excited, thrilled that she agreed at the time, neither thought to question it and run her off with their doubts.

“Not that it’s an excuse, but in the past the few women we’ve asked if they’d be interested in giving us a chance, they stop talking to us altogether. You called us back the next day. It’s why we assumed we were dating.” Steve sighed, his eyes closing shut.

Y/N stood there in silence, letting his words sink in. Both men shifted uncomfortably, but neither said a word. They weren’t going to dig themselves into a deeper hole than they were already in. This wasn’t something small that Y/N could just look past and move on. They missed and theoretically kept key details of their relationship from her.

“I-I have no idea what to say.” Y/N rubbed her temples, her voice cracking. Steve deflated and Bucky had to turn his gaze away to hide his shining eyes. There was something incredibly upsetting about seeing a grown man seconds away from bursting into tears.

These really were some of the happiest two months of his life. True, he and Steve were happy with their relationship. They both knew where they stood and loved each other fiercely. Though they always felt like something was missing. He loved having Steve’s bigger and stronger body to wrap up around him at night to fight away the demons he crossed every day in his job, but there were days when he craved a softer and gentler touch of a woman for him to pamper and hold.

Steve felt the same, his heart aching for another that might cement them further. He loved Bucky with his whole heart, but when he met Y/N the day Bucky pulled her over, he knew she was the missing piece to the puzzle. And because he let his past experiences rule his fear, she was most likely going to slip from their fingers.

Y/N head started to throb, her stomach in knots. This was such an informational overload. It was all starting to come together, specifically why they acted the way they did around her. But this didn’t mean she was okay with how they handled things.

She could understand them being excited, happy that she ‘agreed’ to date them. But what about discussing their limits, or even what they would tell people? It wouldn’t exactly be a conventional relationship; Y/N didn’t even know if she was slightly on board with dating not just one, but both men. She needed time to think, to sort through everything that happened the past two months.

Rubbing her arm, Y/N began to chew her lips and looked back at Bucky and Steve.

“I… I think I need to take a break.” She muttered. She swore she could see their hearts shatter in their chest, the crestfallen expression causing her stomach to turn. “I’m not saying I’ll never call you again. But I need a break, to think about everything.”

Swallowing thickly, Bucky nodded slowly and bit back his tears.

“Right, of course.” He let out a shuddering breath. “We can understand that. Neither of us meant to keep anything from you. We honestly thought you knew.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Y/N smiled kindly, “You didn’t do it intentionally. I just… I need to figure things out.”

Both men nodded quickly, clenching their fists at their side. Y/N sighed heavily and grabbed her purse. Steve rose, smoothing the wrinkles in his uniform. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the sight of the fabric stretching across his chest and quickly averted her gaze.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

Y/N winced at his defeated tone, cold realization settling in that he really was having a godawful day. She had to push aside the guilt she felt. Once she knew where she stood in this whole mess, she could possibly make up for kicking him while he was down. Following him to the door, she gave Bucky a tight-lipped smile over her shoulder. He watched sadly from his spot on the couch, digging his nails in his thigh.

Y/N paused at the door, Steve standing to the side to let her leave. His eye’s cast to the floor, his face void of any emotions.

“I’ll call you guys when I’ve had time to think.” She whispered. Steve nodded mutely, his eyes flicking up briefly to her face before returning to the floor. On instinct, Y/N’s hand lifted to squeeze his arm but froze before her hand touches his skin. Her breath hitch in her throat and she quickly pulled her arm back. “Bye Steve.”

He mumbled a goodbye, watching her disappear down the hall before shutting the door softly behind her.

~.~.~.~

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.”

Y/N groaned, glaring at the half empty glass of wine in front of her. Maddie shot her a glare and situated Lexi on her other hip.

“Don’t groan. I need to make sure I got everything right.” She tutted. “So, the two hotties with the bodies are in fact dating each other.”

“Right.”

“And they are open to an open relationship?”

“I think so. At least… They’re open with me.” Y/N said, her brows furrowing. She hadn’t really thought to ask that question before she fled. “They haven’t really seemed to be with anyone else. Just me.”

“For the sake of the argument, let’s say they’re just wanting to add you to the mix. Nobody else.” Maddie waved off to continue. “For the past two months, they’ve thought you were in a relationship because you inadvertently agree to it.”

“Well.” Y/N skewed her face in disagreement, but Maddie bulldozed right over her.

“Like it or not, you didn’t turn them down. Regardless on who knew what, they thought so. And from what you’re telling me and what I personally saw, my god I’m one jealous bitch.”

“What?” Y/N squawked. Maddie sent her a flat, unimpressed expression and took a sip from her sparkling water.

“Oh please,” Maddie grunted and set the glass down. Lexi cooed and reached out to grab the glass. Unfazed, Maddie pushed it to the side and continued talking. “They treated you like a queen. Bucky and Steve were both at your beck and call, 24/7. They made sure to work out their schedules so they could take you out to lunch almost every week. They wanted to be around you all the time, I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve looked over to you and seen you with that dopey grin on your face because they’re texting you. Not to mention, the very first encounter with you was you immediately yelling at them both. Let’s not forget that.”

“How can I when all you do is bring it up every damn day.” Y/N grumbled, taking a sip from her glass.

“Point is; They care about you. A lot. And honestly, I’ve never seen you happier.” Maddie explained. “This is probably the most unconventional relationship ever, but you have to admit. Having two men that care about you, treat you uh-mazing, and just want to be with you is pretty great. But the bottom line is, what do you want?”

Y/N grew silent, staring absently at the empty wine glass in front of her. That was the heavy question, wasn’t it? What did she want? Letting out a loud painful groan, Y/N buried her face into her hands.

“I don’t know!” She whined. “Maddie tell me! What do I want?!”

“I can’t tell you that!” Maddie exclaimed. “That’s for you to decide. At the end of the day, you have two choices. The first is you tell them you can’t be in a relationship and hope for the best. Chances are, they couldn’t look at you any other way than they have in the past two months, it’ll be too hard on them both and they’ll have to stop talking to you. It wouldn’t be fair to you, or them. The second is you pull your head out of your ass and tell them you’re falling in love with them both and you want to make it work.”

“I’m not falling in love!” Y/N denied with a scoff. Maddie rolled her eyes.

“Keep lying to yourself, princess. You get all starry-eyed whenever one of them calls, I see how much happier and less stressed than you usually are with them. Don’t believe me yet? Then answer me this; Does your heart skip a beat when you see them?” Y/N was reluctant to answer, but she eventually nodded with a pout.

“Do you feel like somethings missing when you go home at night and they aren’t there?”

Another reluctant nod.

“Do you think about their needs before you think about yours?”

Y/N thought about the brownies that were probably sitting uneaten back at their shared apartment that she knew she didn’t have to bring, but Steve would have loved. Yes, she supposed she did. Maddie was beaming now, wagging her fingers in front of Lexi’s face as she waited for the realization to settle in her best friend.

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re in pretty deep.”

Growing silent, Y/N let Maddie’s words sink in. Everything she was saying made absolute sense, and there was no real doubt in Y/N’s mind that she felt something for the two men. Somewhere along the way, Y/N found herself falling for them both despite constantly fighting those feelings. She was never going to act on them, at the time she didn’t think they’d ever be comfortable with the idea of sharing her. There was no way Y/N could ever ask them to choose, or even choose between them herself. I guess I worried for nothing, Y/N thought sheepishly.

“Now answer me one last question. Can you see yourself going forward in life without both of them there, by your side, loving you the way you deserve to be loved? And knowing they’ll make you the happiest and luckiest woman ever?”

No, she thought instantly. She couldn’t. Maddie saw the certainty flash across Y/N’s face and laughed. She walked around the island and patted Y/N on the back.

“I think you have your answer then. Now get out of my house. It’s bedtime.”

Y/N barked a laugh, ducking her head to hide her giddy grin. Stepping off the stool, Y/N turned to Maddie and hugged her tightly, careful of the tiny human in her mother’s arm.

“Thank you, Maddie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” She murmured and let Maddie go. Maddie snorted.

“You’d probably be the town crazy lady with twenty cats that yells at people to get off her lawn.” She stated. Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned down to gently squeeze Lexi’s leg. The little girls squealed a happy giggle, chewing on her tiny fist between her gums.

“You’re mommy’s a bitch, you know that?” Y/N cooed. Lexi beamed, completely unaware of what was going on, but happy to get all the attention. Maddie, however, scoffed and poked Y/N in the side harshly.

“Out. Quit stalling and go back to your men.”

“Alright. Alright.” Y/N groaned. She walked out of the kitchen and through the living room where Jason and Robert were cuddling on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. “Bye, you two.”

Robert barely paid her any mind, too engrossed by the cartoon on the tv. Jason smiled widely with a mouth full of popcorn and waved at Y/N over the back of the couch. She made a face of mock disgust and rolled her eyes.

“Always the charmer Jason.”

Shaking her head, Y/N let herself out the front door and walked back to her car, toying with her keys. There were a few ways she could go about this. She could go home and call them tomorrow or she could call them now. It had only been about an hour and a half; she knew they’d still be up for at least another few hours. Gripping the steering wheel, Y/N let out the tension she was keeping in and started the engine after finally coming to a decision.

Twenty minutes later Y/N walked up the stairs and stopped in front of the door. Y/N took in a deep breath and knocked sharply, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. She heard heavy footsteps coming up to the door moments later and the lock flicking loudly. The door slowly opened, and Y/N smiled hesitantly, playing with her purse strap.

“Hey.”  

“H-hey.” Bucky leaned against the door, his eyes wide in surprise. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at him in a tight tank, loose grey sweat pants and bare feet. Blinking rapidly, Y/N shook her head and tore her gaze away from his chest and tried to ignore the adorable stray curl on his forehead.

“I um… I know it’s late, but I couldn’t wait. Can we talk?” she asked nervously. Bucky looked her over, his eyes were soft and unperturbed. He could tell she was nervous, waiting for him to reject her and send her away. The corners of his lips turned up and he pushed off the door, reaching forward to take her hand in his. Y/N let out a breath of relief and let him pull her into the apartment. Shutting the door softly behind her, keeping her close before he led her into the living room.

“Have a seat. I’ll get Steve.” He said gently and strode down the hall. Y/N sank into the cushions, trying to relax as she strained to hear Bucky letting Steve know she was there. A few minutes later, Bucky walked back to the living room with Steve trailing behind. Steve paused, a flash of uncertainty going across his face before he blinked. She bit her cheek and smiled meekly.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Steve nodded carefully, his guarded eyes flicking over to Bucky. “Didn’t expect you to call back anytime soon let alone show up.”

“Yeah well,” Y/N laughed breathlessly. “I had a great helper who made me see I was overreacting a bit, again.”

Bucky and Steve chuckled softly, knowing exactly who she was referring to. If this conversation went how he thought it might go, Steve made a mental note to send her a thank you basket. Y/N looked back to her hands, a frown on her face and her heart in her throat.

“So, I know you’ve thought we’ve been dating for the past two months. I didn’t really have a clue, but it still doesn’t take away from the fact that you thought we were.” Y/N started. “A little unconventional yeah, I’ll admit it, but now that I’ve had time to process the idea, it’s not something I’m opposed to.”

“We didn’t mean to-,” Bucky said. Y/N shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile.

“No. I know. I’m not upset about it, honestly, I don’t think I ever really was. Maybe a little blindsided but not upset.” Y/N snickered. “It’s a little unconventional yeah, I’ll admit it, but now that I’ve had time to process the idea, it’s not something I’m opposed to.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, surprised by her admission. Steve was equally astonished, glancing at Bucky from the corner of his eyes. He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach, not ready to get his hopes up just yet. But it wasn’t every day someone admitted they were willing to try out their unusual relationship. Y/N went back to staring at her hands, picking at her cuticles with an unsure expression.

“I mean, it’s not ever something I envisioned in my life. I definitely didn’t think I’d ever fall for not one, but two men like you two, but I can’t seem to find it in myself to be upset about it either.”

“You’re falling for us?” Bucky asked breathlessly. He walked around the coffee table and carefully sank into the cushion on the couch. He crossed his leg and tucked his ankle under his thigh, his knee gently brushing against Y/N’s thigh. Y/N nodded, her cheeks burning.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re both sweet, thoughtful, freakishly considerate.” Y/N giggled. “Maybe a little oblivious and lacking in the communication department, but everybody has faults.”

“If all we have to work on is talking more with you, I think we can both agree we’re up for that improvement.” Bucky teased, winking over to Steve. The other sent him a tight-lipped smile, his fist clenched tensely at his side. Bucky frowned and tilted his head towards Y/N all while he kept his eye on Steve.

“I do have so many questions, and things are going to be a little weird for me to get used to, but I mean the only difference between then and now is that… Well, now I know we are in fact dating.” Y/N let out a heavy breath. Steve’s gaze snapped towards Y/N, his lips parting as a soft gasp slipped through. Bucky let out a breathy chuckle and threw his arm on the back on the couch, brushing his thumb against Y/N’s shoulder. She smiled softly at the soft caress and leaned into his touch.

“You still want to date us?” Steve asked breathlessly. It was almost like a dream, part of him couldn’t believe it. He was one hundred percent certain that he was still laying in bed beside Bucky, struggling to contain the tears from heartbreak before he fell asleep. This had to be a dream, right? Yet, when Y/N looked up and locked eyes with him, he could see the certainty and touch of worry. She nodded slowly and bit her lower lip.

“Of course, I do. I could never choose between either of you, not that I would ever want to either.” Y/N said firmly. “I can understand if you’ve lost a little of the trust since, you know, my freaked out early, but I really do want to make this work. Just thinking about-.”

Y/N didn’t have a chance to finish her rehearsed speech. In a flash, Steve was across the room taking up the empty seat beside her on the couch and pressing a desperate kiss to her mouth, effectively cutting her off. She squeaked against his mouth, startled at just how fast the giant man was, but melted instantly in his tender hold and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck.

Reluctantly pulling away, Steve pressed his forehead against hers with his eyelids tightly shut and couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across his lips. Y/N’s head swam, his hot breath fanning across her face. There was a gentle tug from the side, a soft hush stopping her whine before Bucky took his turn to kiss her. He was more controlled, surer. As if he knew at the end of the day Y/N would be back, that she felt things for them both. He brushed his tongue against her lower lip but pulled back with a wicked grin before she could return the kiss. Y/N inhaled sharply and pouted as her eyes flutter open.  

“So, we’re all in agreement?” Bucky whispered huskily. “From this point on, we talk about everything, don’t hide any secrets and we’re officially exclusive to each other?”

Y/N nodded numbly, still scrambling to get her wits about herself. Steve chuckled; his chest lighter than before. He cupped her cheek and turned her face back to his. Y/N blinked, melting at the intensity in his blue eyes.

“We should probably talk about what all this means.” Y/N muttered halfheartedly. She really did want to clear things up, but the longer she sat sandwiched between their two bodies, the quicker she felt her self-control slipping out the window.

“We can talk about logistics later. Right now, I just want to hold my now official girlfriend and longtime boyfriend.” He shushed, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. Bucky giggled, actually giggled and buried his face to her neck. He took in a deep breath, savoring her comforting smell and nodded.

“I think we all deserve that. Talk later, cuddle now.”

Y/N giggled and found herself being scooped up, back into Steve’s lap with Bucky pressed up beside her. She wrapped her arm around Steve’s neck and leaned back against Bucky. He kissed up her neck and rubbed soft circles to her arm. She sighed, letting her eyes slip shut in content. They were right, they had all the time in the world to talk later.

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