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sapphiresnowqueen · 4 years

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The Dreemurr Fortune: Prologue

Asriel Dreemurr was stolen from his bedroom at some point during the night on November 11th, 1921. He was just seventeen, just about to step into his role as an adult Dreemurr. The family was famous and rich, partially due to their restaurant chain, and partially due to their real estate and construction company, and also just because they were famous for being rich and rich because they were famous.

Toriel, the mother, was a sort of sex symbol and had spent her youth modeling, whereas Asgore had been born into the Dreemurr family and had always been a business man.

It was thought that Toriel couldn't get pregnant, so they adopted a young girl when they were ready to have kids, and then the shock came about a year and a half after that, when Toriel found out she was, in fact, pregnant…

Asriel Dreemurr was the cute little darling of the family, with his fluffy white fur and his bright green eyes, he was quite an attractive young man. Beloved.

He got to be about 17, and that was the last anyone saw him. It was thought that he had disappeared from his room, kidnapped, perhaps, but regardless… after two years they had to have a funeral for him. Had to accept that he was gone forever.

Only he wasn't. Asriel wasn't dead, wasn't even lost. He was happy. The heir to the Dreemurr empire had been stolen from his bed, yes, but it's much more complicated than that.

A young, mysterious woman by the name of Chara, had ordered his kidnapping. The heir to the Dreemurr fortune, stolen from his room, less than a year before his eighteenth birthday. The family would certainly pay a lot of money to get him back. And Chara was counting on that.

Chara wasn't just a common criminal, it would take more smarts than that to execute a kidnapping of a member of the richest and most protected monster family in the country-hell, possibly the world. And Chara was smart enough. Bold enough. Had the means to do it.

Chara was queen of the Underground. At just 22 years old, she had a total of 3 years experience under her belt being leader, too. She had successfully identified the leader of this Underground society, seduced him, murdered him, and took his place. All while she was nineteen, too. And the Underground was thriving under her rule, more than it had ever been.

The City Under The City, as it was nicknamed. Chara ruled all.

All she needed was something big, something nobody could ignore, to really set herself apart from her predecessors. And Asriel Dreemurr that was just that.

She had sent a few of her people to get him with a perfectly planned course of action to achieve this. The Dreemurrs had 24 hour security patrolling their Manor, but these patrolmen were humans and monsters- and humans and monsters make mistakes. Sometimes pay attention to one thing, while a more serious thing happens right behind them.

Chara had racoons released at their fence, distracting the guards that were patrolling around the western side of the Manor, where Asriel's bedroom was.

In the dead of night two women, two of Chara's most trusted underlings, climbed up to his window, and shattered it to get inside.

Asriel woke up to the sound of shattering glass, but was promptly gagged, sedated, and carried off with a cloth bag over his head. Never to be seen again.

When he regained consciousness he was in a dark room, tied to a chair. He couldn't move his arms or legs.

It was only natural that the pampered Dreemurr heir was scared.

The lights came on, revealing an extravagant throne with a silver base and a red cushioned seat and back, black accents and details all over. And in that throne? Perhaps an even more impressive woman.

She had a vibrant, fire engine red pixie cut, which complimented her lightly sun-kissed skin, her eyes were red, like nothing Asriel had ever seen before on a human, and her cheekbones were high, very defined. But perhaps what got his attention the most was her lips. Painted black, she had a defined cupid's bow, and her lower lip was bigger than her top lip.

She was strung across her chair, sitting sideways with a pair of very toned, almost muscular legs positioned over the right armrest of the chair. She swung them back over to be in front of her, and then rose to her feet.

She was very fit all around, actually. Muscular legs, toned arms, a pear shaped figure, all graced her medium build. And she was tall. Probably aided by the black heels she wore, but she towered over Asriel, especially with him tied down to the chair like this.

To say he is intimidated would be an understatement.

His fingers twitched. If his mother wasn't so insistent on him keeping his claws trimmed down he might have been able to tear through this rope and set himself free.

"I never intended to show you my face, Asriel Dreemurr." She began.

Her voice was low, but so, so melodic. It made Asriel's ears twitch.

"I intended to extract payment from your family, and then perhaps execute you publicly. All without you ever knowing what's happening. And yet, I've found myself in quite the trouble…"

She walked towards him as she spoke, gently feeling his soft, fluffy ears when she reached him.

"You're too cute to kill." She grinned, revealing some razer-sharp fangs similar to what you would see in a vampire movie.

Asriel was frozen. He couldn't speak, he could barely breathe.

"I've grown lonely, Asriel… pathetic, isn't it? My self imposed social isolation has created something it was intended to destroy. A weakness."

Chara cringed at her own words.

"And so, I've decided, that if I'm to have a weakness whether I isolate myself from connection either way, I will choose the weakness that minimizes my negative emotions. I will choose to have an attachment rather than a longing. What I'm getting at, is… I will not kill you, nor will I extract money from your family, so long as you stay with me."

All this information at once overwhelmed Asriel. But after a few moments of silence, it became clear to him what he needed to do.

"Would you be surprised if I said I would rather stay here?"

Chara looked surprised. So it could be assumed that, yes, she would be further surprised to hear Asriel say that.

She had expected it to be a long, tedious process to get him to choose her over his family.

Asriel looked down at himself. Even his pajamas were lavish, silk. His fur was finely groomed and conditioned. He had never known hunger or poverty. But it was all at a price. A price too high for him to pay, it seemed.

"My parents expect me to inherit their fortune when they die. And in less than a year I am to start taking control of some of the businesses. My image is constantly prioritized over my sense of self, I…" he shook his head, a fear tears made the fur underneath his eyes wet.

"It is so much pressure. I've considered death before submitting to the future they want for me. But this seems like another option. A way out." He looked up, his green eyes meeting her red ones.

"I will give my life to you if you promise me protection. Promise not to hurt me, and instead shield me. I would rather be a nobody, hidden away from the public eye, than be a Dreemurr. I want to be Asriel."

The desire to disappear was something Chara could relate to. Was that not her desire at nineteen? To disappear from the consequences of her delinquency and seek power, rather than poverty?

She pulled a knife from a holder underneath her dress, and simply cut Asriel free.

"I believe we've come to an agreement, Asriel."

She had such a dazzling, enchanting smile. And she couldn't wipe it off of her face as she extended a hand to Asriel and helped him up out of the rather uncomfortable wooden chair.

Asriel was taking a leap of faith. Anything, he thought, would be better than becoming another Mr. Dreemurr. And if that anything consisted of such an attractive young woman? He would gladly accept his fate.

Still, a thought lingered in the back of his head for his sister.

Frisk deserves the fortune, the power. She's always had such good ideas about what to do with the fortune and how she could benefit the community. She's a business woman at heart. Always has been.

Asriel knew that Frisk would miss him. But this is just something he had to do.

Chara rarely appears in public. But she made an exception today for the very public funeral of her beloved, and definitely not dead, Asriel.

Her hair had grown out into a bob, and she wore regular sunglasses, and dressed in a black dress. The funeral was indoors, so she looked slightly overdressed with her big black coat and the sunglasses still on. But she didn't want anybody to look at her. She just wanted to observe. Get to know Asriel from the point of view of people who didn't really know him, she supposed.

Nobody really knew Asriel, except for her. And it proved true in the speeches all of these people gave. Vague, and sometimes completely false information about Asriel, was spread and celebrated at his own funeral. Chara was disgusted.

That is, until a young Latina woman took the stage. She was about 5'8, curly brown hair that fell just above her shoulders. Asriel's sister, Chara guessed.

"I'd like to start this off by saying thank you to everyone who came here to celebrate my brother. He's a good person and a better sibling." She began.

Chara immediately took note that this woman spoke of Asriel in the present tense. She suspected denial.

"He's brilliant, isn't he?" She smiled sadly.

Chara prepared herself for another series of false statements. But this woman didn't seem to have much of anything false to say.

"I was two years old when Asriel was born. I don't remember it. In fact, I think my very first memory was when he was two. He was such a pain… always wanted to take my toys away from me, always wanted to pull my hair, poke me… It was like he lived to make little four year old me miserable. That… that never changed. He's always loved to irritate me. But our most tender moments consisted of him being very raw with me. Very, deeply honest." She had to dry a stray tear on her cheek.

"When he was twelve Asriel told me he wished that I would take over as the primary heir instead of him. I laughed at him. Why would anybody ever turn down such an opportunity, y'know? But he always listened to my big ideas and plans for charities and thought I would be a better heir. Over and over I mimicked our parent's words, that I'm a woman, that I'm adopted, that I'm their darling and they never want me to have to work a day in my life, that Asriel was meant to be the heir."

Some people were notably uncomfortable, squirming in their seats. Sweating.

"When Asriel was fourteen he told me he'd rather kill himself than become another Mr Dreemurr."

There was whispers in the crowd. A man in a black suit came and grabbed the woman's arms, beginning to pull her away from the microphone. But she got two more sentences out, tears in her eyes…

"I know that wherever he is, he's happy to not be just another rich man giving orders. That's the last thing he ever wanted to be."

It seems Chara may not be the only one here that truly understood Asriel.

But she's the only one to know that these people are having a funeral for a young man who is very much alive.

#Undertale #ut #chara #frisk #undyne #alphys #sans #Papyrus #Mettaton #asgore #toriel #Asriel #grillby #papyton #chasriel #sans x frisk #1920s #20s #au #alternate universe #Undertale au

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mllemaenad · 4 years

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AHHHH.

I usually like bard types in stories. I’ve a fondness for storytellers and musicians, and sympathy for anyone who’ll wander into a fight with the firm intention of talking their way out of it. I also appreciate that it’s sort of ... traditional for the bard to try to seduce anything that moves, so I’ve been trying for tolerance. But. Apparently Dandelion is responsible for all the Codex entries and ...

The fair-haired Ves stood apart from the rest of Vernon Roche's unit, and not only in that she was the only woman in an elite formation of hardened cutthroats and swashbucklers. Her girlish face and shapely body would stand out even if a uniform did emphasize them. For there is something in soldier women that attract a man's gaze, and Ves was no exception. The reader should not, however, be mislead by this description - one does not earn a Blue Stripes membership with good looks, but with skill, determination and, at times, ruthlessness. Anyone disregarding Ves would pay dearly for misjudging this young woman.

– Ves

I know from experience that magicians are not above lusting for power. Among sorceresses alone, there are many whose ambition leads them pull strings, moving kings and other mighty forces of this world. To command the elements in spectacular fashion, summon genies, bend fate, dictate royal proclamations, or at least to force others to eat chicken with cutlery. That is why magicians such as Síle de Tansarville, known as the Koviri Loner, stood apart from the others. Lady Síle was not known to interfere in politics, at least not visibly, instead dedicating her days to research. Strict, calm and collected - unlike other sorceresses, she did not display her feminine charms. Nor did she flirt with men, jiggling her posterior before them at every occasion. Though -and I must remain true to myself here - the world would undeniably be a much poorer place without typical sorceresses.

– Síle

I have known the sorceress Triss Merigold for a long time, for she is one of the Geralt's closest friends. The young, pretty, talented, auburn-haired mage from Maribor hardly reminded me of the giggling flapper of years past. Her knowledge, abilities and loyalty had brought her far.

– Triss

Could you just ... stop for five minutes, please? I don’t see anybody wasting time describing which parts of all the male characters jiggle.

This is for Geralt:

Behold our hero: subjected to mutations and rigorous sword and sorcery training as a child, he has become a superhuman monster slayer. Always penniless and often disdained by those whom he protects, he wanders the world seeking work. Fate has little mercy for him, piling obstacles in his way, yet he trudges on. He has more scruples than a beggaring bum has fleas. Doubts haunt him even when a band of ruffians, knives drawn, approaches him on the highway. Is he a good man? I do not think so. Does he try to maintain his humanity? I believe he does.

You must know that Geralt of Rivia died once already, or at least everyone thought him dead. During a massacre in Rivia, he sought to defend nonhumans and fell to overwhelming odds. Placed in a boat, he floated into the mist, into a realm where he finally found peace, but not for long. Because of forces mentioned later, Geralt returned just in time to defend the witchers' ancient home fortress, and then embarked on a mission to recover the secrets stolen from it. Along the way he took part in a Scoia'tael uprising, shattered a powerful criminal organization, and killed the Grand Master of the Order of the Flaming Rose. All the while his fame as a lover grew. Well, that's Geralt for you. As if all this wasn't enough, he then foiled the attempted assassination of King Foltest of Temeria and became one of the monarch's most trusted men.

– Geralt

I couldn’t even guess at his physical appearance from that. Not even the white hair and the cat eyes came up, and those are bloody plot relevant things.

Also, Roche commented on Triss’s backside the entire way from the boat to the town, while she was exhausting herself keeping up a magic shield for them.

They’re making it very hard for me to like these people.

#the witcher #the witcher 2 #dandelion #dandelion critical #vernon roche #triss merigold

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akelyokikagu · 6 years

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Step by Step - 1

Step 1 - One Favour Okita was comfortably napping on the bench when Kagura arrived. She sat just beside him, closer than she usually would, and waited for him to greet her first. She knew he wasn't sleeping, anyway.

She shouldn't be asking him for help. It was a bad idea but there was no one else to turn to for this.

As she grew older Kagura was confronted to the very specific female wars upon meeting the girls in the park. All of them had grown beautifully with the dangerous habit of throwing a shade or two in between smiles and sweet voices. Kagura was a strong warrior, she packed punches and kicks that could destroy a spaceship but this was an art nobody taught her and she could only bear with those poisonous words with an uncomfortable laugh.

It wasn't always like this. Before, they were all good friends she liked to chat with— innocent girls babbling about adult life, first love and TV shows. Stuff like that. Now she could feel their envious eyes piercing her back, the obvious tinge of jealousy as they talked about how exotic Kagura was; as if she didn't belong here. And then all became even worse when they fawned over him.

Okita Sougo, a full-time rival and part-time friend and most importantly, the prodigy of the Shinsengumi. He was surprisingly popular with girls of her age if she believed her friends Okita was handsome, young, mysterious and rich. They yearned for him and despite Kagura warning them of his sadistic tendency they either loved it or thought themselves of being able to 'heal' his lonely heart. Because Kagura was considered to be the closest female to Okita, even if they just spent their time bickering and sparring her friends saw her as a rival. An eyesore to their love.

So it came to this. They would be slowly slipping a sentence or two on how Kagura should find someone for herself. Someone who would suit her— a foreign alien prince, perhaps? Of how Amantos and humans hated each other and how everything would be complicated if she were to fall for Okita. That they heard Okita, a countryside samurai, loved the elegant Yamato Nadashiko1 type of woman with long and dark hair. The epitome of a Japanese beauty which meant everything Kagura wasn't.

She hated Okita Sougo for everything. For existing and annoying her, first and turning her rate female friends into she-monsters but most importantly, for making her feel like that. She always acted as if it didn't matter to her but their words hurt; a lot. She knew she was an Amanto, a Yato at that but Earth already became her home and many Earthlings became her friends and family. And there was him.

Okita Sougo.

Nearing the end of her fourteen some madness took upon her and she sneaked into this man's room in order to find his most shameful secret. Little did she know that his collection of magazines would only curse her. She disliked how he liked women very different from her, both in appearance and personality. It felt wrong. Her stomach churned for a long time before realising that as strange it sounded, Kagura wanted his attention. She was his one and only rival after all, why should his eyes stray away from her?

She didn't understand why she became like this, so weak. She used to ignore all negativity thrown at her because she trusted her heart above all and embraced her pride but nowadays she would avoid Okita just so she wouldn't think of their words.

She didn't want to be an outsider. Earth became her home, her friends and family were mostly Earthlings and this was to the point she considered herself to be a human— both a human and a Yato. It scared her that the girls might have leaked some truth along with the jealousy. The idea of being rejected hurt but the idea of being rejected by Okita was terrifying. She was scared to find out why.

But today this fear will be no more. She couldn't spend her time avoiding Okita and get injured by silly words— she was a woman now. These past days Kagura had visited many women for advice: her best friend, her big sister, one courtesan and one stalker, they all helped her in devising a plan.

Seducing Okita. This was what she was going to do, as Sacchan put it there was no better way of learning about these weird feelings with the concerned. They had always been better at actions rather than words and if she succeeded all her female friends would also shut their mouth. Problem solved.

Kagure walked out from her closet with an expensive dark blue qipao with golden pattern Tsukkuyo gave her. It hugged the curves of her body as well as showing off her legs with a higher slit than usual. Her hair was let down for once while she plunged her little finger on a pink pot. Her finger swiped across her pouty lips, now coat pink and glossy.

For her eighteenth birthday a lot of people gifted her nice things. Perfumes, creams, makeup, dresses and such— womanly things. She never used them before because it was not only a hassle but since she was out to play or spare it would only become a waste.

Kagura stepped confidently out of the Yorozuya and walked toward the park and her favourite bench. She could feel eyes on her as she made her way but instead of being overwhelmed Kagura felt like her pride inflated. She was the queen of Kabuki-Cho after all.

"Have you had enough of avoiding me, China?" He asked in a lazy drawl as he removed his eye mask. He glanced at her outfit without saying anything but Kagura noticed a hint of irritation on his face.

"You're just missing me."

"That's right, I've been itching to crush your face on the floor. Hijikata-san had to do for now, shouldn't you take responsibility for his face? It's even uglier than before."

"Why am I brought in this?" Kagura raised her voice. This man could make her blood rise in more than one way. "Isn't that just because you're a sadistic asshole?"

"Big words shouldn't be used by brats like you."

Again. He always sternly told her she was a brat, the same way he did four years ago— what was wrong with him or his eyes?! It was very obvious she grew up into a beautiful woman.

"I'm not a brat," she mustered through all the embarrassment and insecurity. "Everyone says so."

"Well, it's true you're less of a shrimp now but inside you're still the stupid brat we know."

"Fine!" Kagura stood up abruptly and glared at him. "You know, I wanted to ask you first but since I'm just a brat for you I'll go look for someone else!"

She was about to dash away and go back crying in her closet but surprisingly, he caught her. His hand held her wrist as Okita's frown became more apparent.

"Where do you think you're going, China? We didn't even fight yet."

"You can go fight someone who's not a brat!"

"Why are you so sensible today?" He demanded, this time gentler. "And what did you want to ask me?"

Kagura looked away.

"Oi."

"China?"

"The cat's got your tongue or somethin'?"

Kagura still refused to look at him, all the bravery she had collected just spilled out. This was a stupid idea from the very start.

"I just wanted you to go and die. That was my request," she finally answered coldly.

"So you're going to ask someone else to kill me?" Okita's brow rose up along with the right corner of his mouth. "You don't know how to lie, China."

What is he doing?! It didn't take a genius to understand she didn't want to speak, any normal man would drop the subject and let the lady go. Okita Sougo; however, was the king of the Sadists planet and he couldn't do that, could he? It would be too kind of him.

"Policemen shouldn't be harassing beautiful maidens like this Kagura-sama."

"I don't see any maiden," he pulled her closer until she was sat on the bench again, with him standing before her and blocking any escape route. She could simply destroy the bench or him altogether but Gin-chan couldn't waste more money or else there wouldn't be any food left for her and Sadaharu. "And," he caught her attention again, "you shouldn't leave people hanging you know?"

"You'll let me go if I tell you?"

The infuriating man smiled widely, the side of his index connected with his mouth. "That depends on what you're going to say."

Kagura waited. One, two, three minutes passed as Okita continued to grin at her. He wasn't going to let her go.

"Fine," Kagura crossed her arms. "You can't laugh at me Sadist, if you do I'll kill you!"

"Hn."

"I wanted to, I wanted you to teach me." She looked away again, suddenly finding the lonely stone behind the bench interesting.

"Teach what? Glasses and Boss taught you how to read and write already, right?"

"Not that," she shook her head, not knowing where or how to start. It all seemed so clear in her mind until it was really happening. "A maiden has to get experience until the day I find my mate, so…"

"So?"

"I wanted you to teach me. Hand-holding, kisses, sex, stuff like that. Don't laugh! I'm going to find someone else anyway," and then a soft, pained mumble, "cause' you're too dumb."

"Wait." Okita rubbed the bridge of his nose in a tired manner. "What did you just spout China?"

"You heard it already!"

His hand slid from his face to the length if her arm and finally, caught her shoulder with a great strength. "Why me? No, nevermind, who are you going to ask if not me?"

"This Kagura-sama has plenty of suitors you know?" She tried to slap away his hand but he wouldn't budge, this damned man. "Now go away Sadist." "I never said I'll let you go if you said it," he corrected her with the grin she both loved and hated. At the moment, she was hating it. "Since when are you so serious China? Don't tell me you've fallen for this handsome policeman, since when does these kinds of words mattered to us?' "Since I decided so," she replied. She knew that he didn't really mean what he said, the same way she spent years insulting him without ever hating him but somehow her heart would sting and her stomach knot if he mocked her. She was angry at herself for becoming like this and not exactly knowing *why*. She was scared. And she wanted to leave. Quickly. "You're acting as if I'll be rejecting you," Kagura mildly wondered why this sounded like one of these *shojo* confessions, "I accept." "I knew you would ref-" Kagura stopped talking. She blinked once. Twice. "You…" She doubted his words, this could be just another prank of his but he sounded and looked so serious. And his hand, he should remove his hands from her shoulders it was so warm, "you're not joking, right? Did you hide a camera somewhere?" She looked right and left, finding no apparent cameras. "A recorder?" "That's mean China," his hand finally relinquished of its grasp on her shoulders but instead of removing it altogether Okita slid it again to reach her hand. His calloused fingers were wrapped around her hand, "I said I accept it, I'll teach you but under two conditions." Okita took her silence as an approval, appreciating how bashful she had just become, "first you must not try or experience with another man or woman. It is the same for me. And for the second rule everything happen in my room," he glanced at her, "do you agree?" The first rule was easy to accept, Kagura didn't like when he was with someone else, anyway. The second rule was surprising, she thought they would go to a shady Love Hotel— they were in Kabuki-Ho, after all— but perhaps he didn't want to pay every time. "Okay." Kagura couldn't believe her request went so well, she didn't expect anything would be easy with him at all. "It's a deal then," Okita nodded, "let's go then." "Wait— *right now*?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, "of course dumb China. Why else would you go out looking like this?" His head motioned to her dress and her hair, Kagura wondered if he disliked them so much that he wanted her undressed already. She thought the blue suited her. "Don't you have a patrol?' "Well, criminals can wait," he deadpanned as usual. Okita was mysterious sometimes, Kagura had always been able to read him well but there were moments she couldn't understand him at all— for example, despite looking so cold and assertive why was his hand so warm and gentle? "I can't stay too late, just so you know." "Don't worry about that," he laughed, "I will go easy on you for now." Kagura wondered what it meant, as they walked together toward the Shinsengumi with their fingers tangled.

The ideal Japanese woman, full of virtues. ↩

#fanfic #gintama #okikagu #smut coming kek #not sure on when i'll update with uni #okita sougo #kagura #english

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megsblackfirewrites · 6 years

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My Golden Obsession: Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Jesse and Jack sat side by side in the audience. Gabriel was wearing the standard jumpsuit orange, his head shaved completely bald to make him look more like the intimidating Reaper that everyone was expecting. Jack had heard rumors for months that they had caught the wrong man, that there was no way that someone as sweet as Gabriel could possibly be something as horrible as the Reaper.

But Jack knew better. He’d seen what Gabriel was capable of. The bodies buried under all of the property that Gabriel owned on the outskirts of the city showed that. They were even more brutally tortured than the victims that had been put on display. It brought his body count up to unprecedented numbers; he was an incredibly talented and prolific serial killer. He needed to be brought to justice; Jack just wished that he had been caught sooner, before he killed Ana Amari. Before Jack had fallen in love. Before Gabriel’s actions could affect Jesse for the rest of his life.

The judge walked into the room and took her place at the podium. She knocked her gavel against the podium and started reading the charges out.

“Gabriel Reyes, you are charged with innumerable counts of kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, assault with intent to do harm, first-degree murder, manslaughter, and desecration of human remains. How do you plea?”

Gabriel rose to his feet, ignoring the hissing from his lawyer. “Guilty, your honour,” he said.

Gasps rang throughout the courtroom as everyone that had come to support him was shocked into silence. Gabriel turned his head slightly and regarded the terrified faces. He lifted an eyebrow before he looked back at the judge.

“I am guilty of all charges, your honour,” he said. “I am The Reaper. I have hunted the streets of Los Angeles and left altered human bodies for the police to find. I accept all responsibility and only ask that I be allowed to tell all those listening why I have done this. Perhaps it will help the victim’s loved ones find some closure.”

The judge looked at him for a long time before she motioned to the witness stand. “Allowed.”

Gabriel bowed his head before he walked towards the witness stand. His lawyer looked ready to murder him, clearly expecting to be able to argue for Gabriel’s innocence. Jack was proud of Gabriel for not trying to worm his way out of his punishment, but he seemed arrogant and proud of what he had done. It was so strange to see him like that, so self-assured in his righteousness, like no one would ever doubt him for doing what he had done. It wasn’t the Gabriel he was used to and it worried him; was this the real Gabriel?

Gabriel settled down in the witness stand and the mic was adjusted in front of him so that he didn’t have to yell. Gabriel looked his audience over before he looked straight ahead over all of their heads. Like a kid giving a speech in class; focus on something other than the audience.

“My first victim was my wife, Catherine Reyes,” he said. “We were married at twenty-two, both young and stupid, but happy. Our first house was purchased by my parents and presented to us as a wedding gift; it was more than we could have expected and a little out of our meager price range, but we made it a home. When we were twenty-five, we adopted a child from Santa Fe, determined to give him a happy life away from the monsters that plagued his family.

“Jesse was my pride and joy. He was scared of us at first; not surprising, all things considered. It took a while to earn his trust, but the first time he called me ‘Papi’, I knew I would do anything to keep him safe. I did everything to help him adjust to his new surroundings and he became my little man.

“I thought everything was fine; my family was happy, my job was taking off, and Jesse was excited for everything in life. It wasn’t until he was almost ten that I realized that the happy little life I thought I had was nothing but a veneer. A badly applied one at that.

“One night, I found Jesse’s door left open just a small fraction of an inch. He was crying in his room, whimpering softly. I went in to see what was wrong, but he just sobbed harder when I asked what was wrong. I managed to calm him down, thinking it was just a nightmare or a bully at school. But he said something that chilled my soul.

“‘Momma keeps making me sick’, he said. ‘She won’t stop touching me’.”

Silence fell in the courtroom and Gabriel took a breath. Jesse was shaking in his seat, but he lifted his jaw stubbornly, refusing to cry. Hanzo held onto his hand tightly, his eyes hard as Jack held Jesse’s other hand between his hands. They were there for him as the secret Gabriel and Jesse had kept from the world was told. He needed to be reassured that it wasn’t his fault. No matter what Gabriel said in his defence, Jesse was not the reason Gabriel started killing.

“I hoped that Jesse was just misremembering things. No one wants to think that their spouse is doing that to their children, but Jesse had never lied about something of that magnitude before. I had no reason to disbelieve him, but I wanted to be sure. So, I set up a camera and reassured Jesse that if anything happened that I would come running.

“I regret not hiding in the room the next night. What I saw through that camera still fills me with uncontrollable rage. Catherine crept into his room late at night and…. And she molested him. Jesse came to us as a four-year-old. Catherine had been molesting him for four years, almost nightly since he was six.

“My first thought was divorce to get Jesse away from her, but then I was terrified that he would be awarded to her simply because she was his mother. Then I was terrified that she would come after me for everything, leaving me with nothing to support my son if I’d managed to convince the courts to let me have sole custody. There were so many terrifying scenarios that I came up with that I resolved to do one thing. Kill her.

“And I did. I made her pay for four years of hurting my baby. After her, I got a taste for killing, but did my best to resist the desire. Until an older woman started hitting on my ten year old. And then again a few months later, someone else hit on Jesse. Again and again, elder women went after my son, each of them trying to seduce him while I was standing there watching, listening to them be disgusting wastes of flesh. Each one of them met their end at my hand and some of them were put on display for the world to see.

“Most of my victims had come after Jesse in some manner, but others I found in other ways. I took justice into my own hands and went after those that hunted on the weak and innocent, those unable to protect themselves. Rapists, human traffickers, abusers of all kinds; I made them pay for what they did. And I made sure the world never forgot them.

“Jesse came of age and left to pursue his dreams. I didn’t need to follow him; I knew he would be safe. He was a big boy now and had someone to watch his back. I wasn’t worried. So the Reaper went away, but the itch was always there. Always desiring to have another person under the blade to pay for what they had done in this world. And my answer came in the form of a beautiful cop that captured my heart and soul completely. I had someone else to protect and care for, but my obsession turned me from doing the best for society by removing undesirables to...to fulfilling my own twisted desires. I wanted to see flesh part and blood to flow out of wounds and to watch someone die; that’s what it turned into.

“That is why I admit to what I did. I cannot continue to walk the streets. I am a threat to everyone, including the ones I love. Especially the ones I love.”

Gabriel locked eyes with Jack and Jack closed his eyes. Tears gathered on his lashes, but he nodded sharply, approving of Gabriel’s decision. He wasn’t so far gone as to think that he could still safely walk the streets. He knew he was a threat. Good. Good.

“Gabriel Reyes, you are sentenced to three lifetime sentences of twenty-five years,” the judge said, “with no opportunity for parole. Case dismissed.”

The courtroom was silent as Gabriel got to his feet. No one cheered. No one booed. They just watched as Gabriel calmly followed the police out of the courtroom and to the truck waiting to take him back to prison. Jack swallowed heavily and tipped his head back, letting his tears fall down his face.

Gabriel sat down on his cot and glanced around at the bare walls. Solitary confinement; they always said it was worse than torture. He knew he’d go mad soon enough; maybe he’d be one of those people that the newspaper talked about killing the guards as they tried to escape.

He laughed at the idea, not caring if he did look mad. How arrogant he was to think that he could get out of here on his own. He was in solitary confinement for a reason. He would be kept under lock and key forever. No one would ever let him out.

He may as well get used to seeing white. White walls, white beds, white…well, everything. He sprawled out on the cot, staring up at the white ceiling. This was already torture and it had barely been a few minutes. Hell, his tortures were less cruel than this. At least his victims didn’t….

Wow, he really was fucked in the head. He laughed again, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. Jack and Jesse were so much better off without him. They wouldn’t have someone ruining their lives from the shadows. They wouldn’t be forced to feel connected to someone like him. Yes, it was better this way; he was safely behind bars, Jack and Jesse were safe and capable of looking after themselves, and they had each other.

He let out a long sigh before he buried his face in the pillow. He knew he wouldn’t be here long; he’d get a knife in the gut from one of the prison guards within the month, he was sure. How many of them had been directly affected by his murders? They would take justice into their own hands, just like he did, and rid the world of one more monster.

He laughed as he fell asleep. Now, wasn’t that just poetic justice?

#reaper76 #serial killer AU #tw: child molestation #mentions of child molestation #you have been warned

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