#rip to my follower count but sacrifices need to be made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icanhearcolors · 8 months

Text

Close Encounter pt. 3

Hello beautiful people! I have so many ideas for a camp / long rest scene but we gotta collect the companions first so please enjoy the obligatory Gale and Lae'zel chapter.

pt 1 | pt 2

Word count: 3.8k

You must be seeing things. You blink and rub at your eyes but when you open them again nothing about the morbid scene in front of you changes. There’s a mind flayer on the ground ten feet from you.

You turn to signal as much to Astarion, who must have fallen behind on the way up the hill, and jump out of your skin when you realize he’s standing an inch away- if that.

“Good Gods you scared me!”

“You should be paying more attention. What if I were a blood thirsty vampire trying to sink my teeth into your pretty neck?” He teases.

You point to the clear blue sky with raised eyebrows. The sun is mercilessly beating down on you both. The waves of heat are visible if you squint hard enough, and sweat slicks your clothes to your skin.

“I’d say under normal circumstances that would be unlikely.”

“True. And yet,” he grins, leaning down and snapping his teeth so close to your throat you feel his breath kiss your skin. Some self preservation instinct kicks in and sends you flying before you even process what’s happening. You jerk so hard you surely would have hit the ground if he didn’t catch you by the arm, cackling with self satisfied laughter.

You rip your arm out of his grasp and glare.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“Aw come on, it was a little funny.”

“Can we focus please? There’s a mind flayer up ahead.”

The amused look is wiped off of Astarion’s face, replaced with surprise and then accusation.

“Why didn’t you say something?!”

“I’m saying something now aren’t I?” You hiss, returning your gaze to the twitching mass of purple amidst the wreckage up ahead that you believe to be a mind flayer.

“It looks injured. I’m gonna talk to it” You decide, more speaking your thoughts out loud than anything else.

“I'm sorry, did you say you were going to talk to it?! It doesn’t even have a mouth- get back here!” Astarion protests, but it falls on deaf ears.

You step toward the mind flayer, its tentacled face limp. This thing knows more than anyone how to get the worm out of your skull, and it is dying. Before you even decide to do it, your feet are carrying you forward. Astarion follows reluctantly behind.

The mind flayer is a disturbing looking creature. Purple in hue, covered in a film of viscous slime, oozing wine-colored blood. You turn to Astarion, a curious look in your eyes. You wonder if there are creatures even a vampire wouldn't drink from.

“I would rather starve.” He answers the question you hadn’t even asked yet, his nose wrinkling as he glares down at the monster.

That answers that.

You turn your gaze back to the mind flayer, and notice its one visible orange eye is rolling in its socket. You resist the urge to put your knife through the twitching pink flesh of its brain. You need information more than you need revenge. You take a few steps closer, just a foot from it now, and when you glance back at its face you see that orange eye is now focused unblinkingly on you. You can’t look away. It looks pitiful, the poor thing, mangled by wreckage and its own crushed armour. When it comes to creatures who consume the life forces of others, miraculous things can happen when they feed. Perhaps you could find someone to sacrifice to this dying creature. No- it only has minutes to live, you need to sacrifice yourself. It’s for the greater good. This mind flayer has powers beyond your understanding, and you are but a lowly mortal.

“Tav?” A voice somewhere very far away echos.

You ignore it. The fledgling that’s taken up residence in your brain would have turned you into a mind flayer within a few days anyway. Wouldn’t you rather save a life than create a new one? Your mind made up, you take another step towards its welcoming embrace.

An arm catches you around the waist. Someone pulls you backwards, away from the mind flayer. The tadpole in your brain wriggles violently in a way that causes splitting pain inside your skull. You wince and fall back into something, someone.

“It’s in your mind” They whisper, or shout, it reverberates in your pounding head regardless.

You wrestle with your battling emotions, the real contempt and the imposing compassion. The influence of the tadpole lessens now that you have been made aware of it, and you tamp it down to a dull throbbing at the base of your skull. You’re still connected to the mind flayer. You feel its disgust and hatred toward you. Similarly to what happened to you on the path with Astarion, your consciousness is ripped from your body and thrust into the mind of the dying monster. It is fantasizing about your subjugation. It wants to whip you and your companion until the skin is ripped from your backs while you bow before it. The rage you feel destroys whatever vestiges of influence the thing still had over you, and you use it to dive intentionally into the mind flayer’s intellect, searching for answers. You see through its eyes flashes of its story, its rebirth from man to monster, its care for the pool of tadpoles that now live in the brains of the ship survivors, and you feel its fear.

It is terrified of death.

You feel it’s consciousness slipping away quickly like sand through your fingers. Its brain is shutting down and misfiring. You have no idea how to pinpoint the information you’re looking for in the hurricane of foreign memories flashing before your eyes. Still, you are in control here. The mind flayer’s tadpole was meant to kill you, but as you stand over the dying illithid, holding what’s left of its life hostage in your hands, you realize that along with a time bomb in your skull it has gifted you a fraction of the power it wields. A sick sadistic pleasure fills you when you realize you could bend the mind flayer’s will to your own, just as it had done to you. The feeling terrifies you.

You let go of your grip on its thoughts and are flung back into your own body once more. The creature's eyes are unfocused and dim. With an angry shout you lift your foot and drive the heel of your boot into its squishy head.

It jerks, and then falls still- dead.

There is still an arm around your waist you realize, once you've come back to your senses.

You look down to find a pale hand, fingers splayed across your abdomen. You glance up at the owner of that hand, and find Astarion looking at the mess of a mind flayer carcass with a comically shocked expression. He glances at you, then back at the body.

“Perhaps I should do the talking from now on darling.”

You roll your eyes and step out of his hold, striding toward the path again, but as you turn Astarion grabs the strap of the supplies pack flung across your shoulder and uses your momentum to turn you back around again.

“Well hold on just a second! What was that?”

“What was what?” you bluff.

Astarion drops the strap of your bag to cross his arms over his chest.

“Oh so we’re going to pretend I didn’t just watch you offer your brain up for a snack, change your mind, practically pass out, then wake back up again moments later and squash the mind flayer’s head like a cockroach? Great. Carry on then.”

You shrug, nod, and turn on your heel.

“I was obviously being sarcastic!” He shouts, jogging to catch up with you.

“Are you mad at me for killing a mind flayer?”

“Quite the opposite, I quite enjoyed the little show you put on. I just want to know why I had to restrain you from letting that thing snack on your skull. If you want someone to take a bite out of you darling I guarantee you’d have much more fun with me.”

“I can’t imagine how being exsanguinated would be fun in any way,” you deflect. He takes the bait and smiles.

“No need to imagine it when I can show you,” his voice drips with a dark promise that heats your blood. Intrusive thoughts bombard you with images of him following through with that promise, and you dig through your pack for a bottle of water, taking several long sips. He tosses his head back and barks a laugh at your nervous reaction.

“This is fun. I’ve spent two hundred years hiding what I am, smiling with closed lips, hoping my charm or the dim lighting of a tavern was enough to distract whoever I was talking to from the fact that my eyes are crimson. There’s no reason to hide what I am with you, you already know. It’s nice to just be as I am.”

You stop so suddenly it takes Astarion a second or two to realize you’re no longer next to him. He tosses you a worried look over his shoulder and turns around to face you.

“Did I say something wrong?”

A warm feeling you’re not entirely familiar with but could get used to fills your chest. You’re honored to be the first person Astarion has been able to be himself with, even if that person is a relentless flirt with fangs. In a way, you feel the same. You have a lot of experience pretending to be someone you aren’t too, and Astarion seems to be bringing out a whole new side of you. Whether that's a good thing or not has yet to be determined. You have a feeling he wouldn't want you to make a big deal about this, so you say the first thing that pops into your head.

“They’re not crimson." You clarify when he gives you a confused look, "Your eyes I mean. They’re brighter than that, like this.”

You hold up one of the poppy-red colored health potions.

“What?” He asks in a low tone that you can’t quite decipher. The purple runes on the boulder you both stopped in front of begin to glow, but you don’t perceive any magical threat from them, so you return your attention to the vampire.

“Your eyes… they’re bright red. Startlingly so.”

Astarion places a hand on his chest. He looks absolutely devastated.

“Please tell me you’re lying,” He begs.

“I… I’m lying?”

“Oh this is bad. Really really bad.” He begins to pace a short line back and forth. You’ve never been so confused in your life.

“Do you not know what color your eyes are?”

He stops pacing and looks at you incredulously.

“Of course I don’t! I haven’t been able to see my reflection since this happened!”

He pulls down the collar of his white undershirt and reveals two perfectly spaced scars on his neck. A bite wound.

You nod, still confused.

“Right… that makes sense.”

“I can’t believe no one told me my eyes were bright red. I'm going to have to throw away an entire wardrobe.”

Your concerned expression drops instantly, and you close your eyes, pressing your fingers into your temples.

“For the love of- please tell me you aren’t freaking out right now because your eyes don’t match your outfit.”

Astarion doesn’t appear to hear you, he continues to pace, muttering to himself.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What?” You shout, and he finally stops pacing, startled to a stop.

You genuinely can’t tell if this is an elaborate bit, or if he’s being serious.

“You were enslaved for two centuries and the worst thing that has ever happened to you is that you found out your eyes were a slightly lighter shade than you thought they were?”

Astarion doesn’t break your stare, he holds your gaze and without any discernible hint that he’s lying or telling the truth he says,

“Absolutely.”

You shake your head in mute disbelief, and reach into the bag you took off one of the dead passengers from the beach.

“What are you looking for?” Astarion asks, peering over your shoulder.

“Holy water.”

“Now wait just a minute-”

“Ahem”

Both you and Astarion leap into action at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you.

Astarion whips the short bow off his shoulder and knocks an arrow so quickly you would have missed it if you blinked.

You follow suit and pull your knife from your belt, turning to face the newcomer.

Your knife arm falls to the side, forgotten, when you take in the sight before you.

The glowing purple runes of the boulder were now spinning around a black hole, and sticking out of that void is a man’s arm.

An impatient and strained sounding voice, as if the owner is somewhere far away and has to shout to be heard, echoes out of the hole in the stone.

“I seem to be interrupting something, but I could really use a hand… anyone? Please?”

You sheathe your knife and step forward, glancing back at Astarion. He nods at the hand, his bow aimed at the swirling sigil. The unspoken message is clear. If anything goes wrong Astarion will shoot.

Comforted by that thought, you sidle up to the portal, an impulsive thought taking hold of you.

What if you gave him a high-five?

You slap the hand.

Astarion snorts behind you, and the owner of the hand wags a finger at you.

“Perhaps I should have clarified. A helping hand please? I’m not sure how much time I have left before this portal closes, or what will happen if it closes while my arm is on the other side of it.”

With that in mind you abandon any notions of using magic to calm the sigil and just grip the hand in both of yours, pulling with all your might. There’s a terrifying moment when your grip slips, and you’re pulled partially into the portal as the owner of the arm falls back, but you regain your footing and try again.

This time it works, and a man launches through the portal a moment before it seals closed.

He lands half on top of you. Raising up on his arms, he looks down at you in wonder.

“You did it! I can’t believe that worked.” He laughs, sounding relieved.

“Ahem” Astarion clears his throat, much like the strange man did earlier.

His bow is trained on the stranger’s chest, his face passive, but in his eyes you see something darker than you’re used to seeing from him.

The stranger scrambles back on his hands, standing quickly and dusting the dirt off of his robe. It looks expensive, the fabric is a thick rich purple overlaid with brown leather around his shoulders..

Astarion shifts the bow into one hand, and reaches the other toward you, eyes never straying from the man you just saved. You take his hand and allow him to pull you up, dusting yourself off as well. The man waves awkwardly at you both.

“Um. Hello. I’m Gale of Waterdeep.”

He lunges forward to grab your hand for a shake, but quicker than a snake strike Astarion’s bow is drawn again and aimed at his eye. He stumbles back, hands raised, and clears his throat nervously.

“Thank you for the rescue. My apologies, I’m usually better at this.”

“No need to apologize.” You place a hand on Astarion’s shoulder and he reluctantly lowers the bow.

“I’m Tav. My friend with the trust issues here is Astarion. Don’t worry, he warms up quickly. Are you okay?” you ask Gale.

“You were on the nautiloid weren’t you?” Astarion asks before he can answer, and now that you take a closer look you can see that yes, Gale does look familiar.

You study him for a moment. His shoulder length brown hair is swept back, revealing a silver earring in one of his ears. Your eyes travel down to his well kept beard, and further to a fragment of a tattoo that starts at the base of his throat and ends somewhere under his robe. He looks remarkably put together for someone who just fell out of the sky.

“I was about to ask you the same. Back on the ship, you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region were you not?”

You and Astarion both nod.

“This insertee that we speak of, the parasite - are you aware that after an excruciating gestational period it will turn us into mind flayers? It’s a process called ceremorphosis, and let me assure you: it is to be avoided.”

Astarion side-eyes you, his eyes seem to convey a message.

I don’t like him.

You give him what you hope is an admonishing glare in response.

Be nice.

Gale doesn’t seem to notice.

“You don’t happen to be a cleric by any chance do you? A doctor? A surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?” He asks with a hopeful lilt to his voice and a flourish of his hand.

“Oh yes, Astarion here can knit with the best of them. Can’t you Astarion?”

The vampire twirls an arrow between his fingers and levels Gale with a bored look.

“Define ‘needle’.”

Gale to his credit only eyes that arrow for a few moments before moving on.

“Well that’s not exactly what I had in mind. We’re most certainly going to need a healer, and soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?”

You nod and smile at the charming, if not a little long winded stranger.

“I say the more the merrier. Astarion?”

Astarion turns to you, a bit taken aback.

“You’re asking my opinion?”

“Yes.”

Astarion looks at you, then at the grinning stranger in the purple robe, and sighs.

“Fine. You can keep the wizard, but if he has an accident I’m not cleaning it up.”

Gale furrows his brow.

“What is that supposed to mean? And how’d you know I was a wizard?”

“Because you smell like a library-” You clap a hand over Astarion’s mouth and immediately regret it when his eyes light up with what you know is the urge to bite your hand.

You pull away before he can make up his mind one way or the other.

“Ignore my pale friend here, he gets cranky when he’s hungry, we should get going.” you say to Gale in an overly cheerful voice, who is now looking at you two with thinly veiled suspicion of some sort.

“You two seem close.”

You laugh, a bit hysterically.

“Would you believe me if I told you he tried to kill me an hour ago?”

Gale looks the pale elf up and down. He's still deftly twirling an arrow in his hand.

"I would actually." He says.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, I was just prepared to do so if you didn’t answer my questions.”

“Oh okay, you should have told me that sooner Astarion that makes all the difference.”

You begin trudging along the path before you, unlikely companions in tow.

Astarion nods, his expression serious.

“I knew you’d see it my way.”

Gale walks in conflicted silence for a moment before curiosity seems to get the best of him.

"So if he tried to kill you, why are you traveling together?"

Astarion addresses the wizard before you can.

"Strange times make for strange companions Gale of Waterdeep."

The sun lowers steadily in the sky as you walk. It feels like walking is all you know how to do at this point. Gale and Astarion bickered for a little while over Astarion's refusal to call Gale anything except his full title "Gale of Waterdeep" but even that had died down as the heat and exhaustion caught up with them, too. Your legs burn and the temptation to turn in for the night plagues you, but you know the wilds of the sword coast are no place to sleep, and you repeat the mantra that has pushed you along these last few miles.

One more step. One more step. One more step.

You're brought out of your thoughts by a hand on your shoulder.

Astarion holds a finger to his lips and tilts his head toward the rocky hill in front of you. He hears something. Someone.

"Zorra was right. Yellow as a toad, and twice as ugly." a masculine voice spits.

"The thing's dangerous. Leave it for the Goblin's to kill." pleads a feminine one.

You reach the top of the hill. Shock freezes your blood when you see the thing they are arguing about. It's your Githyanki ally from the nautiloid, suspended in a tiny cage several feet off the ground above two tieflings. Your tadpole squirms as she meets your eyes, and this time instead of swapping minds, your minds seem to connect. She stares at you intently. Her lips don't move, but you hear her next words all the same.

You again. Get rid of them.

Well. The Gith are not exactly famous for their manners so you suppose the abrasiveness is to be expected.

"And if it escapes? How will you- oh. It appears we have guests."

The man catches your eye as you step into view.

You raise you hand in greeting and nod toward the trapped Githyanki.

"Oh she'll escape alright. The Gith are horribly tenacious creatures. Incredibly dangerous too. We have some experience with them. Why don't you leave her to us and we'll take care of it."

You lie through your teeth. Astarion and Gale nod along, but the three of you make a rather odd little group. Astarion looks the part of a Baldurian noble high elf, except his pupils are red and there's dried blood on his hands. Gale, the human wizard, would have no reason to have any experience with the Gith. And you, well you look like you just fell from the sky.

The tiefling hesitates. He's obviously suspicious of the three odd strangers who have appeared seemingly out of nowhere and offered to solve his problems, but the desire to no longer have the problems wins out and he nods, turning to his companion.

"She's right. Let's go. We need to check out that blast."

Your curiosity is piqued, but you want them gone as quickly as possible, so you don't ask about the blast. They take off down the path.

You turn to Lae'zel, suspended in what appears to be a goblin trap.

"Enough gawking!" She barks, "Get me down."

Maybe you're gaining some confidence out here in the wilds, maybe it's Astarion's influence, but the next words out of your mouth shock you.

"Say please."

Astarion laughs.

Lae'zel is less amused.

She rears back as if you just insulted her.

"Never."

You shrug, turning back to Astarion.

"Those teiflings looked well fed. I'll bet you there's some sort of civilization near by."

"I'll make that wager." He turns towards you, hiding his face from Gale, and gives you a devilish watch this smile.

"What say you Gale of Waterdeep?"

"If you say 'Gale of Waterdeep' one more time I will incinerate you."

Astarion winks at you before rounding on Gale, hand over his heart in mock betrayal.

"That's rather rude Gale of Waterdeep. I thought we were friends."

"Free me from this cage before I slaughter you all like the chattering animals you are!" Lae'zel hisses.

You look up at her with a frown. She sighs deeply.

"Please" She mutters.

Recognizing that's as good as you're going to get, you raise your hand, aiming for the ropes that tie the base of the trap to the rest of the cage.

"Ignis!"

Flame shoots from your hand and snaps the flimsy ropes. The bottom drops out of the frame and with it an angry Githyanki.

She lands in a crouch and stands slowly as you approach. You have to admit the move is pretty badass.

"It appears the tadpole hasn't scrambled all of your senses. Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people possess a cure for this infection. I must find a creche, you will join me."

How curious. You know a fair amount about the Gith, and you're quite sure lending a helping hand to others is not written in their doctrine.

"And what exactly is a... creche?" Astarion asks.

Lae'zel turns her withering stare to him.

"It is many things. A hatchery, a training grounds, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear: When infected with a ghaik tadpole, we must report to a caretaker for purification."

Gale crosses his arms.

"A simple thank you for saving your life wouldn't be amiss"

Lae'zel glares at the wizard, and he takes an intimidated step back, raising his hands.

"Or not."

She smiles, satisfied with that response.

"You might as well suggest a wyvern bow to worms. The cure I offer you will suffice as thanks."

It seems almost too easy, a solution to all your problems stands before you.

"I'm not so sure about this." Astarion mutters, and Lae'zel scowls.

She doesn't get a chance to respond, however, before the sound of pounding footsteps somewhere further in the distance has you all pausing to listen.

That's when you hear the screaming.

--------

Tag tiiiime

If you asked me to be tagged and I didn't include you please let me know, and if you didn't asked to be tagged and you are ~ You're stuck here now and I'm not sorry :b

@aoirohi

@tamwritesstuff

@smaranshakthi

@perseny

@stronglycoffeescented-blog

@hadesbabygurl

@y2cade

@screechingphantommaker

@whoopsitsloobis

@coratatum

@rando-no-5

@usuallyunlikelyfox

@kamartsu

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate iii #reader insert

261 notes · View notes

insurrection-if · 3 months

Note

This will be hard to do I think :). Can you describe the romanceables' routes in a few words?

Ah, ‘a few words’?! ∑(; °Д°) My worst nightmare, haha!

Apologies for not cutting this all down further, and for the quality of what’s below, but I hope this is satisfactory! ദ്ദി(˶‾᷄ᗜ‾᷅˵ ᵕ) I tried to rush this to force the word count down as much as I could, but my poor wordy habits die hard (and not at all)!

Onto the main romances . . .

Akil: Forbidden. Challenged. A false betrayal to old ideals, corrupted loyalties. Learning to accept. Declaring his own path, following his heart before his mind. A tenuous tomorrow . . . unless he makes a better one for you both.

Kamiko: Fearful. Guarded. Bridging the divide, a new kind of strength. A new meaning for sacrifice. Quiet, devoted, a love built by trust. The shadow to your light.

Sigmund: Deceptively Slow, Suffocatingly Quick. Loyal, Sacrificial. Safer apart, but you're his. He wants you to be. Fears—and knows—he doesn’t deserve it.

Imka: Nervous. Startled. Helpless. Falling too quick, caring too much. Learning to be bold, to be herself. Learning to love herself like you do.

Elouan: Scarred. Wanting. Pleasant, but cold. Burning up within. Real love for the first time. Forgiving, or Forgetting.

Jae: Flighty. Teasing. Scared to Commit, Scared to be Yours. Looking past the present, washing down the past. She’ll be with you, sticking through hell and tomorrow. Bird without a cage.

Niccolò: Clumsy. Genuine. Flawed, imperfect, real. Peeling back the layers of the self, loving every bit. Facing eternity, immortality. And then, facing chaos before the end. What it means to be a human who loves.

Mutya: Grounding. Pinning. Unwinding, unraveling. Letting loose, standing firm. A pillar to lean on, one to support. Opening up to the vulnerability of love and hurt.

Fyodor: Star-Crossed. Soulmates, artificially made. Broken pieces forced together, ripped apart. Unstable. Glorified. Putting all his hopes in a dream, and learning to love the reality.

And for the others . . .

Dearil: Unwanted. Tearing up stitches, reclaiming what was lost and never his. Desperate to keep, bound to ruin.

Curadora: Wrong place, wrong time. Covert. Watched. Reunited, yet slipping from her grasp, pulled apart by the need for a new age and new people. Wait for her, please.

Retriever: Fast, messy, reigned back, and broken free. Hesitant on the outside, drowning within. Now or never, before the final piece of him meets the fall.

Lempo: Saccharine. Selfish. Unbound. Escaping the world, and oneself, together.

Bones: Regret. Recovery. Letting go. Pushing and pulling, the madness of love.

Mishka: Humanizing. Bitter. Eternal. First Love, Only Love. Doomed.

Thank you for this interesting ask! (´∀`)

#ro #minor ro #c: akil #c: kamiko #c: sigmund #c: imka #c: elouan #c: jae #c: niccolo #c: mutya #c: fyodor #c: dearil #c: curadora #c: retriever #c: lempo #c: bones #c: mishka

32 notes · View notes

echoedcrosshairs · 1 year

Text

Those Who Fight Together - part 7

Summary: Undescribed Jedi female nicknamed Reaper in 3rd person is rescued from being Dooku’s apprentice and needs to blow some steam with an old love 🖤Smut with a Plot🖤

Warning: NSFW, Crude Language, Killing, PiV, Oral (both), alcohol, emotional turmoil

Word Count: 8k (I’m sorry 😣)

Part 6 Part 7.5 Part 8

Masterlist

If you want the angst of 6.5, let me know and I’ll finish writing it

The boys left early, something about needing to clean the shop leaving you alone with the two people who were closes to you. Although after one two many drinks, you could definitely see Wolffe's guard lower and his eyes stayed locked on you for the rest of the night. Even if your dress you still went toe to toe with the boys whether it was who could take the hardest punch or who could lift the heaviest thing. You felt free and content here with just being here with them, except when Wolffe tried to stand up that the night was over when he fell back into his seat laughing.

"I've missed this," you said putting one arm around him helping him up.

"I've missed you."

"I missed you too," a sad smile broke out, "and you," you said to Cody as he grabbed Wolffe's other side.

"You should be with us, fighting and having fun."

"You don't need me anymore, but I will never be far."

"General... he's looking a little Green," Cody said noticing the expression on Wolffe's face, "I'll be right back," he said carefully stepping away to get a bag.

"I'm fine, just realized what I said."

"Don't worry about it, doubt you'll remember it," you laughed try to defuse the tension.

"I love you," he said knowing this was probably one of the last chances he got to say it.

"I got him if you wanna go check on your men," Cody volunteered, pretending to not hear what what he just said.

"I'll see around Cody, haze him later for me," you jested pulling your arm away.

You said goodnight, leaving them to get back to the barracks. The alcohol rummaged around in your system, making you feel a little light headed. Maker, what is that stuff you groaned, never again. You found the boys sitting at the table, each of them silent but stern looking at each other.

"Can this wait til morning?," you said trying to put off whatever was coming.

"You should have stayed there with them," Crosshair said looking at you, his blood was ice, "You don't belong here," he said standing up, his legs wobbling a little bit but he put himself in front of you, "Tech doesn't want and neither do I. I will... never love you," he said bumping his shoulder into yours, hoping the comment was enough to keep Tech out of your wraith.

Tech fiddled with his googles, chest tightening but followed after his brother who barely made it out the door before slumping against the wall. Tech felt empty, noticing the double meaning of what his brother had said, the sacrifice he made for him, his chest tighten even further barely being able to breath.

"Anyone else?" Ask trying to keep the breaking out of your voice, no one spoke, "I'm going to sleep in a hotel tonight."

When you got to your room you grabbed the med patches and placed them on your neck. Fumbling out of your dress you opted for your robes, stashing your sabers and grabbing a handful of credits before stumbling your way out of the ship.

"I'll go with you," Hunter offered waiting by the door.

"I want to be alone."

He gave you a nod seeing the pain in your eyes, "be safe."

"Where's the fun in that" you answered sourly.

The walk to the nearest cheapest hotel was sobering. You wanted nothing more then to rip the skin off your spine and regretting. I am the Collector, good nor bad, my duty is protect knowledge. And that is it.

"What happens now?" Echo asked looking to Hunter.

"We'll wait for her to come home."

"She's not coming back," Hunter heard Crosshair said from the other room.

"She'll come back when she's ready," Hunter affirmed looking between Echo and Wrecker who stared at her empty room.

"Why did you have say that Crosshair, you know it's not true" Wrecker asked knowing his brother could hear them.

There was no reply just silence. Echo blamed himself he should have stayed with her or tried to talk Crosshair out of it. Why I didn't try to go after her? Echo loosened his jaw when his teeth began to hurt, he looked at Hunter who was also trying to hide what he felt but Wrecker didn't bother to try.

"I'm going to be in her room right," Echo let out heading towards the room, Hunter caught his wrist with an eyebrow raised, "I don't know how the rest of you feel, I love her and I don't know if she's coming back," he said staring at the floor but it was enough of an answer that Hunter let him go.

Hunter understood how he was feeling all to well. Hollow, wondering if they just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to them. Why didn't he tell her. Hunter left Wrecker standing there and headed towards his hammock to think. He noticed Crosshair laying in his staring at the ceiling emptied of any emotion and that Tech was gone.

"Don't know, don't care," Crosshair said before Hunter could ask, rolling over to face the wall.

Hunter felt a speeder move in the distance, he knew who it was. He turned and left, knowing his brother was probably going to something stupid to distract himself. Wrecker was still disoriented about what had happened and trying to make sense of it, he never got to say how to felt because out of all them he apparently seemed to be the gentlemen.

"I'll be back in a while, keep anyone else from leaving," He told Wrecker who was sitting by the ramp.

"Tech?"

"Yeah.."

It didn't take Hunter long to find him even on Coruscant with the thousands of machinery. Tech was still sitting on the bike overlooking a busy speed way race. Hunter noticed the emotions playing out on his face, he pulled up next to him and sat. An inner war sieged in Tech between his heart and his brain, he did the most logical thing to be able to protect his brothers but his heart called it a betrayal. He pressed his fingers to the bride of his nose and his leg bounced but he remained silent, waiting for the war to quiet.

"So, why couldn't you tell her yourself?" Hunter said disrupting his train of thought

"I didn't want to see the look on her face," Tech said bluntly, "Did I ruin it for everyone else?"

"I don't know where she is to ask her, so I can't tell you. I think it would have been better coming from you. Crosshair... crossed a line."

"Crosshair has always been-"

"That doesn't make it any better."

"What do you think I should do given the situation?"

"I'd start by finding her and telling her what's going on in your head so she at least knows why."

"And if I can't find her?"

"Hope your songs cross again," Hunter said starting his bike and headed back towards the ship, "Regrets are hard to live with, I hope she comes back so I can fix mine."

Tech followed him back to the ship and his equipment. He made a sludge worthy cup of caff, it was disgusting but he downed it. He could feel Hunters smile behind him when he walked passed. Tech sighed to himself with the amount of camera footage he would have to hack into and comb through but he did find her ... and he watched her leave the hotel and heads towards the ship yard knowing it was about to be to late.

The squad rushed getting out and arrived to where Tech had last traced her location. They look to found a ship lot. They found Wolffe and Cody already there. They walked towards them and then they heard it.

Echo looked up, to see a ship with a scythe crossed with a yellow saber spray painted on a ship entering the air, "Found her."

"Where's she goin?" Wrecker asked confused.

"Far away from us," Crosshair scowled.

"Do you know where?" Hunter asked looking at Cody and Wolffe.

"Right like I'd tell any of you," Wolffe said side eyeing them.

"She's going to meet with Count Dooku to see about bargaining to get her Master's saber back," Cody said, shock hitting them all at once.

"Like Sith's hell," Echo said turning and trying to go after her before Cody threw his arm around his neck to stop him.

"Should be really be going alone?" Wrecker asked.

"She wanted too. With how mad she is, I wouldn't worry," Cody said holding him a little tighter against his struggle, "Honestly, I really wouldn't want to be the next person who pisses her off."

"I agree that she shouldn't have gone alone but you shouldn't have told them. I was already wrong trusting them. I'll go after with her," Wolf said growling.

"We'll bring her home, Wolffe" Hunter said looking up watching the ship make the jump, "this is our fault, let us fix it."

"Why would I trust you because you lot are the reason she left alone?"

Hunter pulled out the one of her two sabers, she didn't take with her hoping it was answer enough.

"I love her," Echo deflated, Cody let go of him.

"Fine, but I'll bring her home." Wolffe gritted out, annoyed.

"How do you know where to find her? Given that ship was most likely recently acquired given the crudeness of the paint job, there most likely isn't a tracker on it due to it being recently acquired."

"Wouldn't you like to know," Wolffe glared at him.

"It's been well documented that both the Jedi and the Sith can create connections through the force, allowing two Force individuals to bridge their minds together allowing the transfer of memory, location, visual stimulation and emotions across the galaxy. Although I don't see how that is possible because you are neither and a clone," Tech stated, "So I am also curious about this."

Wolffe smiled remembering the fond memories of silent communication they had when fighting and the secret but obviously transmissions, "I think right now she rather have me tracking her down then either of you," he stared at Tech and Crosshair.

"She definitely loves you more then any of us," Crosshair scoffed.

Wolffe got in his face staring into his icy demeanor without fear, matching it with his own, "I thought she did too until last night and then I found out last night she was at some sleazy hotel alone. I hope she does love me more because at least I would have gone after her"

"Isn't that calling the quacta calling the stifling slimy, you just let her go too" Crosshair said taking the tooth pick out of his mouth with a smirk.

"It shouldn’t take her long. I was wrong to ever let her in the first place," Wolffe said pointedly and turning, "Plus would you know of love anyway?" he paused to give him a sideways glance, "the only thing you seem to be capable of feeling is rage and lust. She's the best woman I've ever had, down for anything and that wasn’t even enough for you" he added chuckling starting to walk away.

"We'll bring her home, Wolffe."

"You won't like it if I have too," Wolffe said with Cody tailing him, Hunter could hear them taking about a diplomatic search and rescue convoy.

"Hunter, mounting our own search would directly impede the speed of any future orders thus interfering with our task and our mental focus during said task?" Tech pondered out loud.

"We are loyal to each other, first, and she is one of us."

"You misunderstand, I'm an not implying that we don't go after her but I'm asking how do we get her back."

Crosshair shoved him, "We can't go after her, our loyalty is to each other and to the Republic not some rogue consorting with the enemy."

Tech looked at Echo seeing what he understood to be betrayal and confliction, Hunter's jaw was set tight noting the truth to the statement and Wrecker was sad and Crosshair was nothing but rage. All Tech felt was guilty, he knew letting Crosshair 'be the bad guy' was the wrong thing to do and he wished desperately that he could go back and change it but knew he couldn't. He blamed himself for letting it happen and then it getting so out of hand. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment letting his mind clear.

"I have to, this was my mistake."

Crosshair growled grabbing Tech by the armor, "Dank Farrik... I looked her in the eye told her how I felt while ripping her heart out not once but twice," Crosshair composed himself pulling away, "She's better off with the regs. We're bad luck."

Your dress robes trailed behind you, it made your skin prickle with unease, it wasn't very battle appropriate but you were here as delegation and had to work as such. It made your stomach twist being inside the walls of Castle Serenno, while good nor bad you didn't often deal with those who practice the darker arts. The droids open the door to a luxurious room with Count Dooku sitting at a short table plastered in food and finery, the service droid moved to pull out your chair so you could sit.

"How are you enjoying my hospitality?" Count Dooku asked breaking the silence first.

"It is an absolute marvel, Count."

"Rumors have spread saying that the Tome sent their best Collector for these negotiations," he said raising an eyebrow while he took a drink.

"A rank of formality-"

"A rank you yearned mercilessly cutting down those who stood in your way-"

"Only when diplomacy failed but an intelligent man such as yourself already has his eyes set on his feasible price or he wouldn't have agreed to this delegation so we don't have to worry about that."

"Indeed I do," Count Dooku said studying you, a slow cat like smile spread across his face, "You must be my apprentice for a time, that is all I ask for your masters saber in return but while in my employ you must use the saber's provided," he said flickering the droid over with the box, using the force to push it towards you.

The wooden box was lined with red satin, laid two near perfect replicas of your saber design except with a mild curve in the end like the Count's. They had an energy all their own, bold and daring. You picked them up, clicking them to ignite and one started as a faint red but faded to your usual yellow and the other was bright red, intellect and rage.

"Am I to assume you accept the proposal? And it will be Master, we can train a little later today."

"I do accept on the terms however I will not terminate someone I care for while in your services, if you find this acceptable, Master."

I am the Collector, Good nor Bad, you mentally repeated to yourself, This is a task I must preform to keep the secrets of the old ways out of the hands of anyone who would use them for harm. There was a different type of power in the red saber that was in your hand it was like nothing you've ever felt before, it was intriguing.

If you like chapter 6.5 about being Dooku's Apprentice, please leave a comment -> it will hurt

You stood besides Dooku talking plans about building a garrison of droids here as a strategic move because of the planet's location to everything. The door flung open and five men walked in, guns drawn. They started at the finery of Sith regalia you were dressed in, the red leather top and side slit red satin pants but with you regular belt accenting your curves and the two new ignited sabers in your hand in a defensive stance. Their faces riddled with disgust seeing you at Count Dooku's side, protecting him. You watched as Echo's jaw fell but closed it immediately. You turned them off and returned them to your hips, placing your hands behind your back.

"I can not harm them, but I can however keep them distracted while you leave, Master."

"The infamous Squad 99?" He asked

"Yes."

"The pleasure is mine" giving a small bow, "but I have other matters to attend too, keep them busy. The box with the saber will be on their ship. Until we meet again, Apprentice," he smiled followed by a small procession of droids leaving you the rest of the small convoy.

You could feel their eyes bore into you, "Either you turn those to stun if you aim at me or I will actually use force," you declared.

"Give the order, Hunter. She is the enemy," Crosshair said with his finger on the trigger waiting to blast, lowered by still aiming at your feet and you saw the blaster was in fact not on stun.

Your hand twitched for your saber, something was different about him, the bags under his eyes darker and he felt... colder. Hunter stared at you, how you stood a little more taller, stronger and bolder, wondering if Crosshair was right all along.

"Cody said to trust her," Wrecker said.

"General?" The droids asked turning to look at you.

"I trust her," Hunter confirmed, they all aimed at the droids instead besides Crosshair; his trigger finger twitching.

"You tin cans are so dead," you laughed at the droids, "good luck."

You turned to walk out and let the boys take care of the droids. As you did you heard blaster fire coming your way without thinking your hand slipped to the red saber and reflected it back. Your heart dropped when you saw Crosshair duck out of the way.

"He's mine to deal with," you shouted the orders at the droids.

"Roger Roger" they moved out the way, shooting at the rest of the squad instead.

He fired again, "So Crosshair not only did you rip out my heart, you've decided to go against your sergeant and against me," you hissed, more of 'her' Dooku made coming out, "You can kill me here or die. The choice is yours, put the blaster down and walk away or we fight and the force decides," your hand going to your other saber letting its yellow light illuminate the ground.

"I've never been one for following orders," he said rapidly shooting shooting.

Tech watched the exchange, watching you easily deflect the shots methodically stepping closer to him knowing what was about to happen if he didn’t intervene. He shot the closes droids out of his way, jump rolling towards Crosshair stunning him before it could go any further but not before one of his own blast was reflected and grazed him next to his neck.

"CROSSHAIR!" Hunter yelled ripping his Vibro Knife into the head of a droid.

Echo watched stunned as you stood over Crosshair, holding the red saber over his unconscious body, noticing the tiny tremble in your hand with a single tear escaping down your cheek. He watched your hand moved closer becoming just a couple inches away from his heart.

"Cover me!" Hunter yelled slinging his blaster back and barreling towards you.

Hunter's hand cover yours pleading, allowing Tech to slap a patch on the wound "You don't need to do this."

"It would be peaceful" your tone emotionless still staring down at him, your heart ripping again that one of the men you love just tried to kill you.

Hunter clicked the saber off carefully waiting to see if you'd strike. His heart was racing, he didn't know if this was his Reaper that stood infront of him or his enemy. He looked to see that all of the droids were dead before taking his helmet off.

"You left us," his voice showing his defeat.

"YOU never responded to my transmissions... you never came for me. Do you realize the things I've had to do to get this saber back? That YOU could have prevented" You exclaimed getting more and more angry.

"Sorry it took so long, I figured they would have gotten you by now," Wolffe glared at them walking in with Cody and what looked like a full battalion behind them battling the droid forces outside with both Master Plo and Obi on their heels.

"Good thing we brought some back up. Your doing?" Cody smiled, pointing towards outside.

“Perhaps the sharing of information could have been beneficial,” Tech said with Wolffe glaring.

“It’s not hard to figure out that her nick name is the frequency, quite the coincidence that their the same length,” Wolffe growled watching Tech blink and type in the numbers and stare at all of messages.

"Better late than never I suppose," you said removing your hand from Hunter's, "What's the situation?" You asked voidly.

"Them, General Plo and I will head to the front to assist while General Kenobi and Commander Cody escort you and the memory crystal, which we already retrieved, back to Zetabed."

"General Kenobi, do you think you could go in my stead? I wouldn't mind cleaning up some of my mess"

"Unfortunately due to how valuable the asset is I've been tasked with escorting it Zetabed and the incident on Mithril with the beheading of Master Zallo. However It would be a shame to let such an opportunity pass for you practice your combat skills."

"You did what you had too, in war there are sacrifices that have to be done for the greater good. I am glad you and the information is safe," Master Plo added.

The sound of blaster fire somehow relaxing you, it almost turned into music. Cody noticed the familiar demeanor and the glint of battle twinkling in your eyes. He gave Wolffe a knowing look which got an eye roll and a smirk. They pressed the seal on their helmets because they knew it was going to be a race to the front lines. You bowed to the Masters, running out the door with your boys and the squad behind you ready for a fight but that was stopped quick when you got outside to see one of the pack was standing there with a crate, you opened it to find your armor.

"Don't mind if I do," you smiled undressing, slipping into your blacks and equipping the armor.

"Warning, karking hell," Cody said staring upwards.

“Wooza,” you heard Wrecker say probably staring at the new tattoo that covered the sides of your thighs and trailed around your torso stopping under your breast.

"Oh come on, it's not like you haven't walked in on worse," your eyes were drawn to the saber you left in your room on the marauder at the bottom of the box, it felt like a distant memory in a life forgotten.

You held it pressing it against your forehead, greeting it like an old friend before returning it to the box and took the matching saber off your belt and also placed it in the box questionably opting for the new ones. It wasn't the time to feel the pain of last holding both of those. You slung your blaster holsters back on, kissing the beautiful matching blaster set before putting them in the holsters.

"To those who fought," you said.

"To those who won," Cody added.

"To those who lost," Wolf repeated.

"To those who became the spirit of battle; eternal glory-"

"May your name be forever sung-" Hunter cut in.

"In the eternal song of those of Mandalore," Tech finished fiddling with his goggles, realizing the deep sentiment of the children's war chant and wondered who she was mourning.

"To War?" She said smiling at Wolffe.

"With you? Always, these tinnies don’t stand a chance” Wolffe watched the newfound skills, graceful and disastrous. The yellow blade dancing tirelessly deflecting and red blade mowed down clankers with controlled arch's and simple wrist flips that caused the blade to completely spin. Wolffe and Cody quick to catch up.

"It seems she's picked them," Crosshair groaned finally sitting up.

"She's been with Count Dooku for almost two months, she’s probably trying feel something familiar again-" Echo tried to defend pulling Crosshair up.

"Given she is using the red saber, even though hers were available and with the regs, don't defend her. The person you loved is gone, move on," he said cracking his stiff neck and pulled off the red soaked patch. He grabbed his rifle, "Orders?" He asked Hunter.

"Commander Cody has ordered us to the front lines so let's go," he said charging after her, hoping Crosshair was wrong.

"Let’s shred them," you smiled knowing the metal carnage that was about to ensue.

"Alright boys, the General's sick of looking at all this metal. Let’s put on a show," he teased into his coms.

It took about three seconds before you heard the 'Woof' come from the pack, several troopers switching to tossing bombs letting metal pieces flying in the air. It made your blood and heart race. You danced a few steps with a twirl but not stopping your hands it was a perfect symphony of destruction.

"You know I've thought a lot settling down recently," you purred deflecting a shot aimed at Wolffe, "on a battlefield," you laughed, finding a small shred of normalcy.

"I think you should look up!" Wolffe laughed.

You looked up to see a seppie ship burning, "He should be just about done. Gregor, how is operation Present going?"

"You are free to hand over the Present!" He called over the com.

Wolffe tossed you a red little button from a pocket, "Happy Birthday."

"Oh my maker, I've always wanted one of these!" You said wiping a theatrical tear, "Best birthday present ever!" you said pushing the bottom. You watched the burning ship lit up explosions happening everywhere. The ship was eventually going to crash somewhere on the planet... but given how many bombs were going off there wasn't going to much left to worry about when it entered the atmosphere.

"She's perfect!" Wrecker hollered.

"To bad who you knew is gone," Crosshair said taking his anger out on the droids. She's not her anymore. She killed a Jedi. She's not Reaper anymore, "Agh" he slipped out rapidly firing at droids each hitting their mark.

Echo watched her, Cody and Wolffe, "There so... in sync," he mumbled.

"They fight like we do. Together," Tech observed.

"She's with who she belongs with. Let it go!" Crosshair called.

"Enough." Hunter ended.

"It's not like you loved her, either Hunter."

"Enough!"

Crosshair rolled his eyes, it tore him apart but the sooner she was gone the sooner they could move on. Echo watched in pain the distance that she put between them, wondering if she even cared that they were there. Hunter's throat went dry, he never voiced that he loves she didn't know she's uses the force so shouldn't she feel it? Wrecker was jealous, unabashedly jealous switching to taking droids out with his fist. Tech was happy that she was alive but it still didn't fix the hole in his chest because they found her on accident.

You stopped Cody and Wolffe, two bounty hunters appeared in front of you. You rested one hand on your hip letting it stick out a little with the yellow saber still ignited and the other pointed at the ground.

"Aren't you handsome," you said to the taller hunter, "and you.. well the things I would do to you," you said to the hunk of muscles that was obviously the main hunters partner, "so how much is the bounty? And who?"

"A couple thousand credits to bring you alive to your Masters old apprentice, now make it easy on us."

"Ventress," Wolffe sneered.

"Shame, I would have loved to take you boys home with me but I don't associate with people who take orders from her," You raised the hand with the red saber, the rage and anger boiling up as the power you wielded rose the two men into the air, a cynical smiling spreading while it suffocated them "Where ever are my manners," you said stepping forward to let your finger trail down their cheeks, "I am Death, and I will be the last person you see."

Their eyes were locked on you as their necks snapped and they went limp and you dropped them, "If she's going to send bounty hunters after me at least give me a challenge or come after me herself, how sloppy" you scoffed stepping over their bodies, finally on the front lines.

"I told you she's gone," Crosshair said still shooting.

"Reaper..." Cody said looking at the carnage and how easy it was

"What? It was quick."

"It was still harsh."

"War is ugly, get use to it," you said rushing forward, your sabers dragging behind as you pushed into the front lines.

You jumped your way through several groups of troopers using clankers as stepping stones towards the approaching modified destroyer droids you helped design with an amazing fatal flaw. Their heads.

"What the HELL, was that?" Echo yelled.

"I don't know," Hunter said looking down at the two dead bounty hunters.

"They were no longer useful?" Tech interjected with dry humor.

"She's became who Dooku wanted ," Wolffe said also looking down the two men.

"And I hope she's still in there.." Echo said looking back up.

You jumped down in herd of droids, spinning slicing through them like a small precise tornado. It was almost a single person dance.

"Looks like your having fun!" Cody said once he caught up.

"I'm finally starting to feel like some version of me."

"You are always you, but how in balance you want to be is up to you!" He said taking out the droid he noticed sneaking up.

You stared down at the red saber, it’s power "You're right," you clipped the red saber back on your belt, until you got your anger under control it was to much of a temptation.

"Welcome back" you heard the smile in Cody's voice.

"Thanks Commander!"

Knowing you were one saber short he backed your flank. Wolffe looked relieved when he caught up and saw the red gone. Thank the Maker he thought.

"We've been ordered to head back and let the boys and rest handle what little is left."

"Maybe she isn't as gone as you thought she was," Tech noticing the change in her fighting style and the bright red light was no where in sight as they made their way to them. He heard them say to join them "this is going to be fun," Tech muttered.

"So what trouble do you think you'll be in?" Cody asked once they got to where the ships were.

"None, any offense is pardoned already."

"Dutchess Death," you heard the transdoshan say coming out of the shadow with a grin.

"Finally a bounty hunter worth my time, how are you Slicer, you handsome lizard."

"Not here for-s a bounty, just here to say good-s luck but I will be seeing you soon and-s Count Dooku offers you one more present," he hissed, tossing a small bag at you before melting back into the shadows.

"Who the hell was that?" Wolffe asked lowering his blaster.

"Part of my mess," you opened the bag, inside was a small long range communicator with an ear piece and a data key and placed in your belt pocket.

Obi and Plo arrived with the squad behind them, "Impressive fighting," Obi said breaking the ice.

"Count Dooku may be a monster but he does know how to weld a blade, I do not like the man but I can appreciate talent when I see it," you peaked to see if the look on there faces changed but it didn't.

Wolffe tucked his helmet under his arm and so did Cody, “I think you should talk to Gregor when we get back," Wolffe said.

"At the end of the day, with whatever decisions you have to make you have to be able to live with them. Remember what I said earlier," Cody added.

"Thank you-"

"We are making a slight detour before heading back because I obviously forgot it was your birthday, perhaps a quick banquet?" Obi offered.

"Maybe just a stop at 79's for a shot? It’s already been an exciting day.”

"Very well then," Obi smiled, "We'll meet you there."

He took commander Cody and the rest of the his assault force in the ships and took off, you tried following Wolffe and Plo but got told to be with squad 99. They were still waiting you entered the ship without a word heading straight to your room, the masters saber and your other two were on the freshly made bed. The ship was eerily silent, there was an occasional footstep going past the door but no one entered. You sat on the floor and crossed your legs trying to mediate. Count Dooku taught you about using the strength of your rage and anger to fight but the other things you had to do haunted you. He was smart, wise and cunning but also one of the most cut throat and merciless person you've ever met and that’s what everyone saw you be. Duty comes first no matter what. You couldn't get yourself to focus and leaned your head against the mattress.

"Fark," you mumbled, your heading spinning.

A small quiet tap came from the other side of the door that you almost hit it besides the anxiety you could feel from the other side of the door.

"What is it?" You called your hands on your sabers quietly unclipping them.

"It's me," you heard Echo's voice, before he opened the door.

"Enter," you said flatly putting your saber back.

"Worried about Crosshair trying something?" He asked looking down the movement of my hands closing the door behind him.

"Any of you really," you admitted.

“Everyone is out there trying to figure out what to say-”

“If there wasn’t anything left to say when I left, there isn’t anything left to say now.”

“I still lo-“

“Don’t, I don’t need your pity. I just want to be alone,” harshness lathering across the words.

“Come home, please,” he felt like he was suffocating, “No matter what you did, your one of us. Remember that,” he left taking just a few steps away from the door before sliding down the wall sitting on the ground, he wasn’t an often an emotional man, but several cascaded out in silence. He knew everyone heard the exchange and no one had a word to say

“Where’s home?” Hunter heard you whisper.

Tech read each message, each one worse then the last. The plans for each attack that was carried out, ways to stop it and found the part where she left like she was no longer herself wondering if there was still a place for her in the galaxy and he stopped breathing. He didn’t realize the grip his hand on the datapad until it broke. He started breathing again, his leg shaking.

“You can stay here or have a drink. I don’t care,” you said as soon as you landed on Coruscant and the ramp was lowered.

“Apathy won’t help you heal-“

“It’s not apathy- it’s emptiness.”

“The generals got summoned for a briefing so your stuck with us until we leave,” Cody said once you arrived, getting you out of your head.

“I’ll drink ANYTHING except what ever we had last time,” Wolffe said remembering his own rules that he broke and the amount of sick he was after.

“I’ll take ten of whatever we had last time, I obviously didn’t have enough of it,” you laughed, it was short but not humorous and they noticed.

You sat at the bar for once, “strongest you got,” he started at you, usually the life of the party but saw the hollowed husky in your eyes.

“For you? A glass,” he said pouring the vile stuff into a medium glass.

“You can tell?” You asked.

“Everyone can.”

You looked at the liquid chugging half of it, making a gagging sound remembering how disgusting and how disgustingly strong it was. Cody started at you, worried, not a single joke or shamelessly flirting with some random brother or picking a fight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I made the same mistake of giving them the benefit of the doubt. I should have-“ Wolffe started.

“There’s a lot of things we should have done but now, it’s how we should move forward,” Cody the wise asked.

“I’m not sure there’s a forward for me,” you said taking another drink, “I wonder if it’s time to hang them up and retire somewhere.”

“Retire?” Wolffe asked.

“You should see my pardon list for this mission and then ask me that.”

“Reaper,” Wolffe said reaching out putting his hand on hour shoulder, “I did, I know you would never do such horrible things without cause, whatever was on that memory crystal was far to important.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better. Although that minor genocide charge was completely unfounded, that one plant ate children. If anything that was a public service,” the humor was dry but they still laughed which let you genuinely smile.

“I’m just glad your home.”

“What is up with everyone and that word home. No where is home,” you said starting to get mad finishing your drink, “I don’t need a home, I need three basic things, drinking, fighting and fucking.”

“Two out three isn’t bad,” Cody took a drink knowing where this was going, “Us clones don’t really have a home either, the closes thing we have is Kamino. We go ship to ship, place to place, battlefield to battlefield. Home is just as easily a feeling of being where you belong not just a place.”

“I definitely don’t have that either,” you said finishing the drink, “anymore,” your face puckered.

Cody got called over by a group a guys, he didn’t want to leave you alone but Wolffe gave him a little nod to go and figured this was about to be a personal moment with an idea about where it was going to go.

Wolffe scooted a little closer and put his hand on your leg, “You’ll always have a home with the 104th waiting and with me. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“I learned a lot and I guess that’s what is eating at me.”

“It’s how you use what you learned that is important,” he said telling him no to another drink, “Well… you had two of the three things you need? I think we have time for the third.”

You stared at him the seriousness in the offer, “If I recall you didn’t want to cross that line again.”

“I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, but I can’t undo them but I can be at peace with them and try to fix what I did wrong,” he said staring at you waiting for a response.

“What did that datapad ever do to you?” Hunter laughed looking at it sputter on the floor, then the expression on Tech’s face, “You read the transmissions didn’t you?”

“Astute observation,” Tech gridded out with an eye roll picking up the datapad and putting in his bag grabbing another one switching over the luckily viable memory board.

“Tech-“

“Hunter, now is not the time. There is nothing I can do to fix what I did nor undo what happened because of it even though could have been prevented. Due to my clouded judgement, finding those should have been obvious. Crosshair might be right, maybe she should stay with them because I can’t focus on obvious.”

“You know why you can’t focus, the regret and guilt you try to hide. Do you really want to feel like this forever?” Hunter asked, hoping once again Tech would make the right decision.

You watch Wolffe whisper something in Cody’s ear receiving something between a scowl and a smirk, “Alright, alright. I’ll cover, go.”

It had been forever since Wolffe wrapped his fingers around yours, getting a couple howls from the boys watching. “Get it Commander,” both of you laughed, He smirked as you both walked he kept looking down your hand in his. That home is what home is, he wanted to say but not ruin it.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked feeling his busy thoughts.

“Trying to remember the last time,” he admitted.

“How about you focus on this time?” You winked pulling him into the hotel room you booked for the next two hours.

You kissed him, pulled back to look at him to see if their was any regret this time and there wasn’t. He pulled you back in, quickly peeling off your armor like a day hadn’t go by since he last did it and you took to undoing his. Your hands traced his blacks, feeling the crisp cut muscle underneath your heart pounding loud enough that your ears hurt.

“Are you sure?” You whispered barely able to hear yourself

“Yes.”

You stripped yourself of the blacks and he did the same, kissing you towards the bed. You tried push him down to be on top but he didn’t budge until you laid down. He kissed up your leg starting at the ankle stopping at the inner thigh and switched to the other one.

“Wolffe,” you let out as his mouth got closer to where you wanted it.

“Don’t rush me,” he mused, kissing up both of your hip bones, “or I’ll go slower,” he said kissing back down his mouth finding you.

“Oh… Maker” you moaned, his mouth remember the perfect spot.

A shiver shot down your body at being touched, you felt a drop of you suddenly leak out just for him to lap it up letting his tongue push against your entrance before going to stop. His tongue circling you with a slight pulse, your hands grabbed his hair no longer be to hear the moans over the sensation of him.

The pain in Wolffe’s cock was almost unbearable, it was trying to slowly pump itself into the bed to make the ache stop he locked himself tight to get it to stop. He’d almost forgotten what your arousal did to him, the taste of it causing a frenzy. He stroked the spot harder with his tongue watching your hips tremble as you about to come on his face. Wolffe didn’t miss a single drop that poured out the entrance he desperately wanted, letting his tongue explore the part it could reach enjoying your amazing taste. He pulled his tongue out and kissed your pretty pulsating clit. You looked down to see him grinning but you were barely conscious, the sensation had to be stronger then the ecstasy of spice.

“Aw, are you tapping out already,” he said moving up to see the pleasure across your face.

“Wolffe… put it in me right now, please,” you begged, head still reeling.

He couldn’t control himself anymore, every inch of his being screaming out to obey. He almost came right there in you, feeling your cushioned soaked walls grab ahold of him. “Maker you feel so good,” he moaned gently starting to stroke his cock with your pussy. You let your legs spread a little wider hoping he would get the idea and he did.

He rolled his hips faster into you. It felt like a fever dream that he was going to wake up from any second and you would be back with them, with him never getting a chance to say or show how he felt. He used that spite to go faster as he heard every plea escape your lips for him. Every stroke your walls tighten on him little by little trying to coax the orgasm out of him.

You moved your legs, locking his ankles down with yours, adjusting your hips so they would be more in line with him. He let out a groan so disgustingly hot that you knew it would be on your mind for the rest of the day. His strokes unintentionally matching the panting of your breaths for him. Every nerve in your body was on fire feeling the tip of his dick rub into the clot of nerves with his long but fast strokes. Your core tighten and your fingers dug into his muscular back, your heart physically feeling like it was shaking as your body wound tight getting ready to release. He growled as the tidal wave took you, causing you to clench around him and milked him into coming with with you.

“Crink,” his voice hoarse and the rest of his body still shuttering, he switched from being on his hands to his elbows resting his head on your chest trying to not squish you until the shaking stopped.

He pulled out of you careful, another moan escaping at the sensation and laid down gasping. Your hand down his held tight, your ears burning and grey spotting your visions. Wolffe was dizzy, his head reeling from the sensation but he managed to smile that the sensation hadn’t change meaning the connection between both of you was still there. He looked down to see a little cum coming out, “Still?” Before he could wipe it up your hand let go of his and swiped it up with your finger and stuck in your mouth, a moan escaping both of you.

“How about you put that cock in mouth so

I don’t miss a drop?”

“Maker,” he moaned putting his legs on side of you and pointy his still hard dick towards your mouth.

Your head still burned but you moved your head to where he could pump the load that was waiting to come out down your throat. It took a little coaxing to get him to start going but it didn’t take long to get the message. You wrapped your arm under his leg to play with his choobies to keep them from smack into your chin.

Wolffe’s knuckles were turning white from his tightly he was grabbing the head board as he used your mouth for his pleasure. He made the mistake of looking down, your lips wrapped down him, a little bit of saliva running out, and the desperation in your eyes for him to come. He exploded in the back of your throat mid thrust, your name spilling from his lips. You swallowed every dropped of the his warm creamy delicious cum. He stayed there until his felt cock finally start going soft before he rocked himself back on his heels feeling like his heart was going to give out. He notice arms still shaking clenching the head board, dropping them and they started tingling.

You both were gasping, but you removed your arm letting him collapse next to you. Even gasping both of your breaths falling into sync. It was silent but your mind was finally silent except for one gnawing thought. What or who were they doing in their free time tonight and for the last two months.

His hand once again slipped into yours, “Definitely a shower before we go,” he said kissing your neck deciding he still had a couple more left in him.

Tech listened to everything his eyes squeezed shut, he probably looked like a degenerate standing outside an occupied room but it felt like a stab in the heart it that froze him in place and almost made him bang on the door to get it to quit but noticed it finally went silent. He understood they left one of there own behind for two months and it was the deepest betrayal of everything they stood for but they never stopped looking or trying. Did it have to be with him? He quelled the anger rising, letting out one harsh breath. He was the most logical choice, it obviously had to be him. Admitting three little words when he saw her again could have prevented all of this because what he feared already happened anyway. He opened his eyes and left her to enjoy herself for the time being, she needed this and Wolffe probably as much as Tech probably needed her right now.

53 notes · View notes

kitkatscabinet · 2 years

Note

i just saw your writing for the dylan x reader who’s always reading and just my heart was so happy-

so can i request either kaitlyn or dylan from the quarry with a crush who sort of sacrifices themself for them. like one of the monsters is chasing either character and reader sees it and causes a distraction before leading the monster away and towards them.

i am a weak hearted person who just cannot do angst so maybe eventually character and reader reunite and character calls them an idiot and asks them why they would do something stupid like that before reader confesses it’s because they’re in love with them

thank you <3

Pairing: Kaitlyn x reader

Word count: 1170

Genre: Fluff, a little angst kind of ruined by the tone of writing

Thinking back on it later the moment you had decided to sacrifice yourself for the group (Kaitlyn) was really the moment things went tits up for you. It was also the moment you proved yourself to be a giant fucking self-sacrificing idiot just because you had a crush on a pretty girl. With the lodge compromised by some giant guy with a shotgun you had been forced to make a break for it, intending to meet Ryan and Dylan at the radio shack. Unfortunately, God had decided he had favourites and you were not one of them as before you could reunite Dylan’s voice boomed over the PA system screaming at you to get indoors. Running up to the nearest cabin you were thwarted by the fact it was locked. You weren’t exactly sure what you were running from but Dylan’s urgency paired with the inhuman shrieks filling the area had you really unwilling to find out.

Turning to face Kaitlyn you noticed her panic as she tried and failed to get the door open, Abi and Nick were so focused on getting inside they didn’t notice what you did. Whipping your head behind you at the sound of a much closer shriek you felt your guts heave at the sight of… some sort of feral creature that definitely wasn’t friendly. Sparing one last glance at the competent woman you had fallen for over the Summer, you made a split-second decision. Darting down the stairs and in the opposite direction of the creature you made a mad dash into the woods, screaming and attracting its attention away from the group still trying to get inside. Things unfortunately went to your plan as it started chasing you instead and you swore aloud when you realised it was at least 3 times faster than you. The only reason you hadn’t been ripped to shreds was your massive head start.

You didn’t dare turn to look behind you in fear of tripping but the sound of snarls and breaking branches alerted you to the fact that you should definitely keep running. You pushed past the oncoming stitch as you ran fast enough to make road runner proud, your internal monologue pretty much consisting of variations of fuck mixed with other words. The sound of a gunshot alarmingly close to you had you faltering and ducking on instinct, in turn leading you to rumble down the side of a small hill that had appeared out of nowhere. Like a cheese roller putting their body on the line for the prize, you flew down the side accumulating mud, scratches and bruises as you went. Eventually landing on your back you were incredibly winded and unable to get up straight away, straining your ears you found no indication you’d been followed this far. Catching your breath, you waited a few more minutes before getting up and trying to make your way back to the lodge, or anywhere you knew the geographic location of. Hands roaming over your pockets you swore as you realised you had lost your phone somewhere, because of course, that was exactly what you needed. Grinding the palms of your hands into your eyes you forced back tears and started moving slowly forward, the light provided by the moon was nowhere near enough to provide sufficient vision, but you refused to give up and die so you walked. The stinging pain became more and more apparent as your adrenaline faded, and you were pretty sure your ankle was sprained and your ribs may be bruised, but you pressed on. The promise of seeing Kaitlyn again, of finally confessing your feelings the only motivation you needed.

Outwardly Kaitlyn was livid, she swore when she got her hands on your dumbass there would be hell to pay. Inwardly she was panicking beyond belief, mind filling with unwanted questions and scenarios. Where were you? Were you ok? Were you even still alive? That last one hurt the most to think about and she forced all thoughts of you from her brain, focusing all her mental energy into helping Dylan and Nick.

Hours passed and Nick had turned into what was apparently a werewolf causing Abi to have to shoot him and some girl in an eyepatch had shown up after killing Kaylee Hackett in an attempt to cure her werewolf boyfriend. What bothered her the most was that there was still no word from you, no one had seen or heard you since the radio shack incident and she was growing increasingly frantic about it. But following Ryan’s leave she had to step up even more as group leader, that was how she found herself making her way to the scrapyard to fish for parts.

Sighing in defeat at their lack of progress outside of almost getting mauled by a werewolf Kaitlyn kicked the ground in agitation as her and Dylan made their way back to the lodge. A rustling from the bushes had her raising the shotgun in alarm, finger hovering over the trigger as she readied herself for whatever was out there. Instead, she found herself drooping in relief as you stumbled out onto the path in front of her and Dylan. That relief morphing into panic once more as she took in your form.

“Oh my god, what the fuck happened to you!” Kaitlyn yelled, taking in the various splotches of blood and mud you were covered in.

“Oh that” you scrunched up your nose, deciding the best way to answer “I fell over” you ended up shrugging before wincing as the movement jostled your aching ribs too much. Near shoving the gun at Ryan to take, Kaitlyn quickly closed the ground between you and threw her arms around your waist in a hug “You idiot” she yelled, burying her face in your torso. “Never do anything that stupid again do you hear me” she half yelled, still refusing to let go. As giddy as you were at the affection you couldn’t stop the wheeze escaping your lungs at the sudden rush of pain caused by her desperate squeezing.

“Hey, Kaitlyn, I love you too but you gotta let go. I’m pretty sure you just cracked my already busted ribs” you attempted to joke. Startled at how quickly she jolted back from you and the astounded expression on her face you rewound the previous conversation, choking on your spit as you realised what you’d blurted out. “Wait I mean uh…” you tried to backtrack, but it was too late, Kaitlyn certainly wasn’t going to let you off the hook for that.

“Hey, no takebacks” she yelled, “you said it so now you’re stuck with me.” The smile on her face had you clocking on to her meaning and you would have pulled her into another embrace if it weren’t for Dylan awkwardly clearing his throat as the both of you were rudely reminded that he was there. Pouting, you began your trudge back to the lodge, entwining your fingers with hers for the road.

#the quarry kaitlyn #the quarry oneshot #the quarry #the quarry requests #kaitlyn ka x reader #kaitlyn ka fic #kaitlyn ka

171 notes · View notes

cottoncandyjester · 2 years

Note

I feel like Antonio’s darling is just gonna tell him to be with Ernesto at this point. Man pick one at least

Thankfully toni has such loving and supportive brothers to help him

Warning this contains: a bit of angst, cannibalism, toxic behavior, semi good ending? Implication of mutilation

The excuses were too much, every planned date cancelling because of how busy Antonio was. When he wasn’t following Ernesto around every waking moment he was out doing a few hitman assignments, you barley saw him and when you did he would usually fall asleep within the next few moments.

After weeks of this you found yourself no longer wanting to spend time with him, the thought of being rejected. Toni hated not being able to see you, he yearned for you just being with you made him happy.

“Why are you avoiding me? I thought you wanted to spend time together” Toni mumbled out as he held your wrist preventing you from rushing off.

“I can’t compete with Ernesto, Antonio! I’m your partner yet I have to beg to even get a second of attention from you! If you want to be with me you’ll make that apparent but it’s like I’m with a damn robot. If you love spending with with Ernesto so much why don’t you fucking marry him” after yelling at him you ripped your hand from his tight grip leaving Toni there confused and conflicted.

Toni loved you, you made him feel like he can almost do anything. He was a bird in a cage and you were the key, his beautiful key. He wanted to rush after you he wanted to hold you and tell you that he wanted you more than anything in this world, but no one leaves the mafia so easily.

“Yo Toni! There you are, Ernesto needs you, dumbass!” fritz said as he wondered what was Toni doing in an empty hallway. Toni looked at fritz, eyes blank of emotions. “Tell him I’m not coming.” He said bluntly before walking off leaving the male in shock.

Toni wasn’t much of a drinker but he needed to numb his mind and smoking his stash wouldn’t be enough for him. He knew jinx had all the alcohol he would need, after making a quick stop in the kitchen he walked towards the medical bay the sound of screaming echoing through the halls before Toni entered the room only to see jinx eating. His mask was on the ground while he sat ontop of a large male handcuffed to the bed screaming in agony as jinx bit into his stomach the sight being far too normal for Toni, he’s slaughtered more people he could count no matter the age or person.

Toni walked towards the medicine cabinet opening a compartment which was filled with various bottles of alcohol. Toni grabbed a bottle of whiskey, sitting on the floor and opened the bottle taking a swig while watching jinx feast until he finally held the male’s heart in his mouth gulping his down and licking his lips his split tongue making Toni almost shiver as he watched jinx start to lick himself clean while walking over and sitting beside Toni.

“You’re drinking~ oooh you’re sad~” jinx teased as he trailed his tongue up his arm cleaning the blood from the feasting. Toni chugged the bottle down, ignoring jinx and his teasing. He didn’t care if he got in trouble, he didn’t care if Ernesto screamed at him he just wanted to feel nothing.

It wasn’t long til Toni was laying on the ground, surrounded by various bottles hair frizzy and out of its usual neat braid. Toni stuck his tongue out obtaining the last drips from the bottle before he sat up, face red and flushed as he shook the bottle. “Jinxie, it’s empty” Toni whined out.

Jinx would’ve found this behavior amusing but he knew the consequences of such disobedience. He kneeled infront of Toni, brushing the hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. “You should sober up, you know Ernesto won’t like his knight to be like this” jinx purred out. Jinx helped Toni up holding him to prevent him from falling but instead of falling down Toni tripped causing jinx to fall back on the bed.

“I-it’s not fair. Why can’t I be selfish? Why do I have to sacrifice my life for his?! I want to protect everyone but..but..I want to live! I want to feel love! I want to..I want to…I want to..” Toni was getting choked up, tears rolling down his face as jinx laid there in shock unsure of how to comfort him.

“I don’t want to die jinx..I’m scared. I just want to be with my love, I choose them! I choose them forever!” Toni sobbed out, jinx pulled Toni close allowing him to sob into his neck. Jinx knew what he had to do to help Toni, they were brothers and brothers help each other. “Just rest Toni, it’s okay” jinx mumbled out as he rubbed Toni’s back as he cried himself into a drunken slumber.

Jinx knew he had privileges that the others didn’t, the ability to leave and come back like a stray cat but for Toni if he didn’t serve Ernesto it could mean death. For the first time in a while jinx felt a surge of guilt, he had to fix this.

When Antonio woke up he had a pounding headache, he was still in the medical bay with a note on his chest. Toni took the note off and noticed it was from jinx.

“Hope you didn’t die from alcohol poisoning teehee~ got a surprise for you in the kitchen you’re welcome, love jinx”

Toni knew that with jinx it could either be something great or deeply horrible the last surprise jinx got him was puppy though he forgot to poke holes in the box and it led to a very depressing moment and a surprise funeral.

Toni walked towards the kitchen expecting something deeply horrifying only to find Ernesto sitting at the table drinking coffee and smoking a cigar, with him sat sully. Jinx was sitting on the kitchen counter with Toni’s phone in his hand.

“Ah toñito! Morning! come sit” Ernesto cheers out with a wide grin seeming to be in a good mood. Toni did as he was told feeling like this was a trap of some kind. “Sir I want to apologize for rebelling I will take any punishment you see fit” Toni said calmly, head down as he awaited his punishment.

Ernesto simply chuckled before taking a long puff from his cigar “jinx helped me understand that I overwork you, you aren’t a baby anymore. So there is going to be some changes, you are going to be working solely on your assassin duties. It cuts your pay but I’m sure you are okay with that, no?” Ernesto explained.

Toni knew His missions only took up a mere 25% of his day and with a little work he was sure he could finish them faster, gaining even more free time. Not following Ernesto around frees Toni to do almost anything he wanted! He wanted to be happy but a bad feeling creeped up inside his chest.

“Then who will be protecting you?”

“Jinx of course, he is almost as strong as you so it only makes sense plus he has so much free time that this will be good for him” Ernesto cooed out as jinx hopped off the counter handing Toni his phone back.

“Sully and me snagged you a date! It’s in an hour so get going, Don’t screw it up lover boyyy~” jinx purred out as he stood behind Ernesto. Toni felt his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn’t sure how sully and jinx managed to convince you to go on a date with him but he was excited at the thought of you forgiving him. As much as he wanted to ask more questions he didn’t care, he stood and gave a bow before rushing off to get ready for his surprise date.

The two men in the kitchen grew silent until the sounds of footsteps vanished. “Didn’t know you were such a good liar, boss” jinx said with a coy tone now sitting across from Ernesto.

Ernesto leaned back in the chair, cold eyes glaring at jinx “didn’t know you were so nice, willing to take not only his role but his punishment. You should savor your last week of sight and walk im sure your parts will absolutely sell on the black market to replace the money that boy lost me” Ernesto sneers out with a sigh

Jinx couldn’t help but stare down at his legs, fear swirling inside of him but with a harsh gulp he stood up and took a dramatic bow “shall we be going my king? I’ll let the driver know that we will be going soon” Jinx cheers out before turning and skipping out the room.

Jinx was glad he was wearing a mask to muffle and hide the tears, he was just glad that Toni could be happy and in love again even if it costed him his own freedom.

#yandere ocs #yandere imagines #yandere #mafia ocs

14 notes · View notes

koorinohebi · 2 years

Text

She looked at herself in the mirror then, her right hand to her heart as she stared at the reflection before her. Wearing the Survey Corps’ symbol-- having followed a regimen of training to prepare her and the rest of the unit for battle; for the fight to come against the titans where surviving wasn’t even part of the reassurance; for the slaughter of not only the enemy but surely of her so called comrades…

“What am I giving up my heart for exactly?”

In Commander Erwin’s impassioned speeches, he often talked about it, what he said was worth giving up their hearts and lives for-- Humanity and its survival. Against those abominable monsters that prowled the lands, ensuring that people survive was paramount. I won’t say that I don’t understand that rationale. In order for change to happen, humans have to exist otherwise no one will experience the changes, no one will document it… nothing happens if humanity perishes.

But what about us? Last I checked, I was human too… just like everyone else that we’re protecting.

The way every scout was treated like a tool, nothing more than cattle. It was just that this time, they were getting reared to be fit for a massacre. I don’t think think that I’m mistaken in making the comparison, nor am I off about it. The body count was proof enough. Each expedition left them with fewer and fewer troops. No matter how plenty they were when they left the Walls, they would return a mere handful. It was lucky if they had their dead in wagons, but most of the time they could hardly salvage anything. The girl knew that their efforts were necessary in order to cater to this so called ‘greater good’… but just how many more was required to die for a species that could hardly protect its own without the help of sacrifices? Sacrifices that often got berated by those good for nothing assholes from the Military Police Brigade…

In a way, it made her sick to think that she had to throw her life away for people like them. She can’t exactly choose which part of humanity she gets to protect. And she wasn’t like the Commander who inspired people to rally for a cause. What’s more, the young scout was surrounded by people who had a purpose. Kiomi can’t be like Eren who was obnoxiously driven by his desire to rip apart every titan he sets his sights upon. She couldn’t be like Mikasa who was so devoted to the former it was creepy. Zaiachi had no dreams like Armin did… unlike everyone else, she didn’t even have a home to return to.

She’s heard it said once, humans needed something to propel them forward. Usually that came in the form of dreams, goals, desires, hobbies-- ambition… something which she lacked.

No home to return to. No family that she knew. She had no real goal, no real hobby, no dreams, no real ambition… not that she was allowed to selfishly dream or want for anything. Being part of the mission to save humanity… selfishness was something that she couldn’t afford. Although in the first place, she didn’t even have the memories that could have told her what she was like-- what she could have wanted. There was nothing like that for her, and sometimes she envied others because of it.

In the end, all that she had was a tag that had random symbols on it. ‘ʞ1-0⨊1’ it read, faded as it was. Didn’t know what it meant, couldn’t make anything of it so she simply tried to make the most of what it looked like to her-- Kiomi. Her last name? It wasn’t her own. Just something random strewed together in order to create the semblance of an identity. Unlike everyone, the only thing that she really owned for herself was the skin that clung to her flesh and bones.

Give up my heart… The girl thought to herself silently as she stared at the mirror a moment longer before turning away. How does she do that when she didn’t have one to begin with?

“Oh well, I guess there’s always enough time to figure that out.” For now, it was time to meet up with everyone else.

Maybe being a scout will show her. Perhaps one day, even she can develop something that’ll give her enough reason to offer whatever sort of heart forms in that chest of hers.

#⩤ Verse Intro : Attack on Titan ⩥#⩤ Event Horizon : Crossovers ⩥#⩤ To each their own devices : Kiomi ⩥#And with this. I officially have an AoT verse.#Verse details? That'll come eventually.#aot #shingeki no kyoujin

2 notes · View notes

the-lady-writes-what · 2 years

Text

Barbatos x Female (cis/she/her) Reader

The demon butler helps to motivate you as you do research in the library. Be careful not to make too much noise.

Content: exhibitionism, tail riding

Minors Do Not Interact

Mammon tugged on MC’s sleeve. She easily brushed him off and continued making her way down the corridor. That didn’t stop Mammon from following after.

“Hey, hey, come on! I was only kidding. You’re not really going to let me go in alone, are you?”

“Mammon,” MC sighed, “I have homework to do. I need to finish this project and I can only do that in the library. If you’re that scared going alone, take Beel or Asmo with you. I’m sure they don’t have anything planned this evening.”

“Fine! I was going to share the loot with ya, but if you’re gonna be a stick in the mud, more for me then!” Mammon stopped following you and stormed down the opposite side of the hallway.

“How magnanimous of you,” said MC and continued to her destination.

Libraries in Devildom operated much like those on earth. Finding the section of books she needed was just a quick question to the librarian. It was a little difficult focusing on the question at hand when the librarian’s six different eyes kept moving around in their sockets. Eventually, MC was led to the right direction. The one thing she missed about libraries on earth was that they had electric lights that made perusing a lot easier. Lamps and candles were fine for aesthetics, but surely devils didn’t want to develop bad eyes when reading by gas lamp or candlelight. MC found herself tucked away from all the other students with the least amount of candlelight to read by.

“Do you need any assistance?” A familiar voice asked.

MC turned her head. Standing behind, and a bit to the side, was Diavolo’s butler, Barbatos. MC furrowed her brows. What what Diavolo’s butler doing so far away from his master? The devil seemed to have read your mind as when he spoke, he answered your question before it fell out of your mouth.

“Lord Diavolo wanted to know how your classes are fairing and if you needed any help. A human without magical knowledge or ability must have some difficulty in some of the classes.”

“They’re not very easy for someone like me, but it’s not entirely awful. At least, nobody’s asking me turn into an animal or sacrifice as newborn baby. I’m trying to find a book for a research paper but my eyes--”

“Mhmm, yes. Humans don’t have the best eyes, do you? We demons are used to seeing in the dark. The lamps are mostly decorative to some. Next time we host more humans, we should have more accommodating light fixtures,” said Barbatos.

“That would be helpful.”

“Allow me to help you in any way I can. Since you’re having trouble reading in this light, let me pull what you need from the shelves for you,” offered Barbatos.

“That would be wonderful, but don’t you have to tend Diavolo?”

“He’s a grown demon. I trust him to behave himself for a short while. Besides, I'm merely following his orders in helping you.”

MC read off the books she needed for her research paper. A table was commandeered to help stack the tomes while they looked for others. In the dim atmosphere, it was harder to keep a respectful distance. MC counted on both her hands how many time she accidentally stepped on Barbatos’ shoes or bumped into his shoulder. He was polite and merciful of MC’s human flaws. Either that, or he was behaving himself in not ripping her apart, verbally or physically.

Compared to demons like his master, Barbatos had a slender figure. His long fingers and eyes that captured every detail, MC was inexplicably drawn to him. Demon or no, beauty was in the eyes of the beholder, and MC liked what she saw. It was like being around forbidden fruit. She could look all she wanted but couldn’t touch. She could only dream of what those slender fingers could do to her once Barbatos removed those gloves. Speaking of which, Barbatos happened to glance at her from the corner of his eye.

“Are you feeling well, MC? Your face is darker than before. Do you feel warm?,” said Barbatos.

“I-I’m fine. Really.” MC chuckled at her own embarrassment and failed to hide it from Barbatos’ perceptive eyes.

“Do you need to sit down?”

“Um, no. No, thank you. Let’s get these last couple of books and I should be finished gathering resources,” MC answered.

“Very well,” said Barbatos.

MC stood at Barbatos’ side. The lighting made his features appear darker and somehow more erotic in the candlelight. Her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting and she drank in Barbatos’ face. He was handsome like so many other demons, but it was his quiet reservation that sparked curiosity within her. What kind of man--er, demon--was Barbatos like in the bedroom? Demure and sweet, whiny, demanding, sadistic? Being in Devildom for so long, it made her wonder what bedding a demon would actually feel like. But when it came to her imagination, none of the devils she’d met thus far plagued her naughty thoughts more than Barbatos himself. Heat rose to her face and made it hot the longer she stood by him. As much as she tried focusing on the task at hand, MC couldn’t help but glancing at Barbatos within the tempting arm’s length space between them.

MC tore her eyes away to look at the bookshelf. Her eyes had adjusted enough to where she could make out more letters on the leather-bound spines with a little focus and some squinting. As long as she focused on finishing in the library, she could get to writing about her paper and daydream about Barbatos some other time.

It was in that moment as she read through the various titles when MC felt something slither up her leg. It was cold and slick and wrapped itself around her leg at the top of her thigh-high sock. She shuddered and opened her mouth to scream. Barbatos clapped his hand over her mouth as he leaned into her ear.

“You’re free to enjoy yourself, but, please, keep the noise down. This is a library after all,” he whispered.

He slowly removed his hand, though MC missed his touch in its absence. MC glanced down to find Barbatos tail grind itself against her leg. Barbatos’ tail was long and smooth. It left a trail of slime like drool on your skin as it snaked its way further up. MC squeaked in surprise, almost jolting out of her skin. Barbatos stood next to her and blocked the view of her from others who might see his tail sliding under skirt. The forked tip of his tail reached the hem of her panties, then slowly, gently, pulled it aside.

“B-Barbatos...”

“Shhh, remember. This is a library.” Barbatos taunted.

MC shuddered and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The forked tips lapped at her sensitive folds while the large muscle of the tail squeezed her thigh like an iron manacle. MC hunched over and clasped both hands over her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her. Barbatos slipped one end of his tail into MC’s cunt while the other flicked her clit back and forth. He stood there and watched MC take him deep inside her folds.

“Are you enjoying yourself, MC? Do I make you feel good?”

Unable to speak, MC nodded her head. Tears from stress trickled down her face. Her breathing quickened as Barbatos stroked the inside of her walls with his fat tail. She could vaguely imagine what his cock would feel like, only less slimy and more rigid. His tail pumped into her throughly, reaching spots her fingers could never get to. The tip rubbing her clit worked faster as Barbatos moved his tail in and out.

“You’re leaking,” Barbatos husked. “Are you going to come soon?”

Again, she nodded.

“Do try not to scream. We wouldn’t want anyone to notice what we’re doing back here. If you draw too much attention to us, I'll have to punish you later.”

With his words combining with the hard, quick thrusts of his tail, MC screwed her eyes tight. She huffed and panted into her hands as she came undone. Barbatos’ tail was so thick that it plugged up her juices threatening to spill between her legs. Barbatos, being the clever demon he was, reached between MC’s legs with a handkerchief. He moved quickly and subtly that no one would have noticed cleaning up her cunt and wiping down her inner thighs. Barbatos pressed himself against MC’s side as if to tell her a secret. He cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered into her ear.

“After dinner, come find me at the palace. For such a good job at keeping quiet, I'll reward. Do not keep me waiting, MC.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #barbatos #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #female reader #female mc #Barbatos x Reader #Barbatos x MC #Barbatos x female reader #Barbatos x female MC #smut #obey me smut #18+ only #minors dni #minors do not interact

533 notes · View notes

valwentinefics · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Could I request a Zemo x reader fic where he overhears the reader making a joke with Sam and Bucky, “I wonder if any rich people out there would want an Avenger trophy wife”? Thanks <3

A/N: Thank you for the request! I’ll let you guys decide if he’s manipulating the reader or if he’s just ooc. I decided to make the reader very poor and selfless so it would fit better and kept her power ambiguous.

Trophy Wife - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, describing poor living conditions

Word count: 1169

Y/n was poor. She rejected all the money and fame she could have gotten from being Avenger, not wanting to profit off of a job that had previously ruined a country, even if that happened before she had joined. Instead, Y/n considered herself nothing more than a concerned citizen taking action to help, even if that meant she had to eat cup noodles for every meal in a water damaged studio apartment.

Now she sat on Zemo’s couch, a cup of tea nestled in her hands as she looked around the home. It was nice, not overly showy but was visibly upper class. Y/n couldn’t believe this was how she was living now, pulled around by a rich guy. Truthfully, she could get used to the perks that came with being around the Baron.

“I still can’t believe I can say I’ve been in a private jet.” Y/n said out loud, getting the attention of Bucky and Sam. “I mean just a few days ago I was poor as fuck, living off of dollar store cup noodles and sunny d. I was able to eat a steak yesterday!” She laughed, only earning a concerned look from the three men at her living arrangements, Zemo now no longer staring into his cup and instead at Y/n inquisitively, his head tilted slightly.

“Damn Y/n, you lived like that?” Asked Sam, “Like, you’re not exaggerating?”

Y/n laughed. “God, I wish I was. But no, I actually lived like that. I should invite you guys around to my apartment sometime, you can meet the rats that live in my walls.” Her words caused Bucky’s never ending stare to morph into serious concern and Sam’s jaw to drop. Zemo showed indifference, grabbing her empty cup she had placed down and going to the kitchen to wash it. “That’s a joke, it’s actually mice.”

“How do you live like that?” Asked Bucky, “If you need a place to stay, I don’t use my bedroom much.”

“It’s hard to hold another job when you’re an Avenger and it just feels wrong to get money from it. Unlike you two I became an Avenger right out of highschool, I didn’t have savings like Sam and I wasn’t in anyone’s will like you Bucky. All my money comes from the occasional government mission that I allow to pay me. But don’t worry about me, I'm an Avenger, I’ll make do. I don’t need any help” She smiled at the two.

“Alright, but you need anything you call me. God, I can’t believe you live like that. Do I need a tetanus shot just because I’ve been standing close to you?” Joked Sam, easing the tense concern that filled the air.

Y/n giggled. “No don’t worry, I’m safe. But being with Zemo has made me start thinking,” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should really say this. “I wonder if any rich people out there would like an Avenger trophy wife?” Sam let out a laugh, about to say something when an unexpected voice interrupted.

“I would.” Spoke Zemo from his place in the kitchen, popping a turkish delight into his mouth.

All heads turned to the Sovokian Baron, earning a casual shrug from him. Y/n felt her cheeks turn red as she processed his words. Bucky’s fist clenching as he shot a glare to Zemo. Sam looked between the two, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

“No, no, no this is not what’s going to happen. I need some air, I’m going for a walk.” He headed to the door, followed by an awkwardly silent Bucky. “You two, don’t do anything weird while we’re gone.” Sam tossed on his jacket, muttering about the situation under his breath as he headed out with Bucky in tow.

The room became consumed by silence soon after, the only sound being made was from the wrapping on Zemo’s turkish delights as he tossed another one into his mouth. Y/n couldn’t keep his eyes off him, thinking of his words. She hadn’t really realized how attractive he was before now. Not a hair out of place, his long jacket slung over his shoulders, the air of casual confidence he gave off. She wasn’t sure why she liked him, the man that caused a rift within the Avengers, who had caused so much pain to those she cared about. She almost felt guilty for it. Almost.

“I meant what I said.” The sokovian accent filled the room after a few moments, Y/n’s eyes snapping to his instead of looking at his body. “About an Avenger trophy wife.”

“And why would you mean that? I thought you hated us?” Y/n asked, confused.

Zemo walked over, his steps slow and back straight as he approached, looking like the royalty he was. “Because you’re not like them, you’re not a supremacist. You live in squalor because you believe it’s the right thing to do. You don’t show your power to the world and become a glorified image, you try to remain human. You’re humble, altruistic.” He paused right in front of Y/n. She turned her head away from him, looking out the window, his words making her cheeks painted red.

“You flatter me Zemo.” She spoke nervously, not used to all the praise. She wasn’t a popular avenger so not many people paid attention to her efforts, and she didn’t care if they did or didn’t but it felt nice to receive a compliment. In a way, Zemo’s praise meant more to her in her eyes than anyone else's. He was against the whole group and wasn’t scared to make that known, yet here he was complimenting her.

“It’s the truth.” His hand cupped her cheek and guided Y/n’s face to look at his. “You don’t deserve to live like that when you’re the only good one in the damn system. If the others were like you, maybe my country would still be around.” His eyes held sadness within them for a moment as he almost stared through her before going back to how he was before. “I know I can’t marry you now, however just think of at least being my sugar baby, let me reward you for being the only hero with a good moral compass.”

Y/n stared into his dark eyes for a few moments, mulling over the situation. Was it right to accept? No. But she hadn’t felt true appreciation for her actions and sacrifices before, nor such genuine praise, that she decided for once and only once it was time to be selfish. She reached into her pocket and ripped a page out of her notebook, scribbling her number onto the sheet and handing it to Zemo.

“I accept.”

#helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo

410 notes · View notes

thedarkplume · 3 years

Text

I'm back again, guys! I recently received a message from @definitelyjakejensen with a drawing from @kocuria depicting a C. Ev character with tentacles extending behind him!

I looked at that picture for about a minute, and afterward, this story began to take shape. I had spent the day before binge streaming Universal Horror films. While I was writing this, I was watching The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Such a beautiful film! It managed to knock Frankenstein down as my favorite Universal Horror film.

I want to thank my awesome Beta @georgiapeach30513 for not only editing this massive story but for being such a great source of motivation and support. I honestly could not have gotten through all my annoying self-sabotaging thoughts without your continued support.

For those of you reading this who don't already know @autumnrose40 is the expert on all sea creatures and wolves. So, it is with an anxious and excited heart that I prepare to post this!

Special thanks to @roguemonsterfucker and @monsterkinkmeme for their amazing blogs featuring prompts, art, and stories that fulfill all our monster-loving needs!

By the way, the title Cabin by the Lake comes from the greatly underappreciated Judd Nelson made-for-tv film, released in 2000.

Songs used: To Be Loved by Jackie Wilson (1958), Sleep Walk Instrumental by Santo & Johnny (1959), Saving All My Love For You by Whitney Houston (1985), You Give Good Love by Whitney Houston (1985), Who’s Lovin’ You by The Temptations (1965) & Pledging My Love by Johnny Ace (1954)

Books used/referenced: Captive Rose by Miriam Minger, Unbirthday from Disney’s A Twisted Tale series by Liz Braswell, Almost There from Disney’s A Twisted Tale series by Farrah Rochon, Grimm Fairytales by The Brothers Grimm & Scary Stories Treasury by Alvin Schwartz – The Haunted House & The Drum

Text excerpt of ‘The Drum’ taken from Scary Stories Treasury by Alvin Schwartz, specifically, book 2, More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (1984).

Disclaimer: The characters within this story are the property of Shirley Jackson, Stacie Passon, Sylvain White, Tobe Hooper, Steven Spielberg, Andy Diggle & Gideon Raff. I only own my OCs and Sylvie the Border Collie.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. Isolation, gaslighting, blood, animal violence, animal sacrifice, death, murder, character death, smut, exophilia, somnophilia, dubious consent, profanity, reverse transformation, tentacle sex, monster threesome, oral sex, upside down spit roasting under the cut.

p.s. No chickens were harmed during the writing of this story.

Word Count: Over 15k!!! Again.

A Cabin by The Lake

I was never close to my biological father. I had vague memories of following him around the house on unsteady toddler legs. I remember at those times that I loved him. But after those memories, there were sadder ones punctuated by prison letters and timed phone calls. Sparse moments of contact that ceased completely when he moved on with a new wife and raised new kids. It came as a complete shock to me that upon his death, the executor of his estate contacted me with a letter and a deed to a property my father willed to me in Okeechobee, Florida. I loved it there when I was a child. It was my grandparents’ place. I went there two weekends every month for years. I would fish on the dock behind the cabin and sometimes swim under my grandma’s watchful eye. When they passed, I stopped going to Okeechobee. I can’t exactly remember why, but my mother always tried to compensate for the loss of the visits by taking me into the town to shop twice a month. She never once granted my requests to even drive by the property.

I lived in Alabama after having moved there following my high school graduation. My town was as remote as it could be. Not even a town really, more of an opening in the woods like something ripped from Wrong Turn. I went to school at what was called The Friendliest Campus in the South and was two semesters from graduating when my stepfather fell sick from Alzheimer’s. My mother, who had been estranged from my stepfather at the time rushed home, only to have an accident that left her with a broken neck. It was a miracle that she was not paralyzed. Once she got better, she ordered me to return to school and finish what I started. She said that I was the only child she had, and she would be damned if she was the reason I didn’t finish school. After I finished, I mostly stuck close to home finding freelance work online, but my feelings of restlessness never faded.

They quieted once. Two years before my father’s death, I met the most handsome and charming man. He had a sort of rugged old Hollywood beauty to him. He was a professor in the Political Science Department. My degree requirements were already met by the time I registered for The Judicial Process, but it sounded interesting enough and would be another 400 Level course to add to my transcript. From the moment he stepped in front of the class and introduced himself, I was hanging on his every word.

Professor Charles Stanford.

He scheduled office hours with each of us individually as a way to get to know his students better. I was thrilled of course for more than one reason. The main being that it was always a good idea to have three or four interpersonal relationships with your professors in the real world. The lesser more intimate reason, I just wanted an excuse to have his attention all to myself for a while.

As the semester went on, we met in his office often. Once a week at least. We never talked about his class or my grades, but about things like our favorite books and songs. We even argued over why films lost their appeal when Hammer Studios entered the scene—his opinion, not mine. He was a lover of gothic literature. When I noticed his leatherbound copy of Jane Eyre, he noted the change in my expression and from there we spent hours discussing the Bronte Sisters and the writings of that period. I questioned exactly why he was teaching a law class in the Political Science department when it was clear he belonged in the English Department. Our relationship, despite what others still think, did not progress to anything romantic until after I graduated.

We dated a full year before he proposed. It was almost too soon, but I was so happy with him, what else could I say besides yes?

It all came crashing down during our wedding rehearsal dinner. The police kicked in the doors and dragged Charles away from me in handcuffs, arresting him for the murder of three women in the town of Oxford, Alabama. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. My Charles, a murderer? It was too insane to even consider. It had to be a mistake. Then there were other charges. Other accusations. The police had a search warrant for my mother’s house. They turned the place upside down looking for anything that could help their case. They even took my engagement ring as evidence. They said that it was taken from the body of one of Charles’s victims.

As the weeks turned into months, I was forced to accept that Charles Stanford, who was really Charles Blackwood, was wanted internationally for murders in Italy. An entire family, two servants, and three women who all died Mrs. Charles Blackwood. The police showed me the wedding photos. His hair was longer, and he didn’t wear glasses or have a beard, but there was nothing he could do to hide the likeness.

I held on to my naïve belief that this was some case of mistaken identity until Charles called me from jail. He would remain there until the courts determined which murders he would face trial for. He tried to persuade me that it was all a mistake, but there were too many facts and too much evidence. Charles finally snapped and said, “And you should be grateful I found those other women to feed this insatiable need for blood and violence inside of me! Do you even realize how many times I could have killed you? How easily you could have been like the others? Do you? But I love you and I committed these unspeakable acts, as you say, just to keep from taking your life!”

After that call, I ended all contact with Charles. I silently accepted that the man I had fallen in love with, the one whose arms always left me feeling safe and loved, the man who made love to me so passionately, was not only an imposter but a murderer of women and children and anyone who got in his way. There are not enough words to describe a pain like that. It’s something that no one should be made to face. That life we lived together, the life we were working to build was all a lie. It was a lie, but it was my lie, and now it was gone forever.

It was decided that Charles would be extradited to Italy to face trial for his crimes there. I would eventually have to testify for the murders he committed here, but until then, I was free to move about as I pleased.

My father’s death coincided with Charles’s arrest. I didn’t attend his funeral, despite my mother’s urging. I knew I had as much right to be there as his other kids, but it didn’t feel right to me. When the executor of my father’s estate contacted me, I made the decision to return to Florida to my grandparent’s old lake house. It was a little over five hundred miles from Alabama to Florida. I made the trip the same as we used to in the summers. Get up around three am and be on the road around four. My mother packed me a lunch like I was a child and hugged me for a long time. I know I can’t stop you, she said. But be careful. It’s been a long time since you’ve been down that way.

It felt good to get away.

A year passed, and people still whispered behind my back that I was the Black Widower’s Bride.

I only needed to stop twice for the eight-hour drive, once for the restroom and the other to pick up essentials. Using a grocery pick-up app became second nature to me. I could still feel the bitter sting of embarrassment when the other shoppers stopped and loudly whispered about my perceived complacency in Charles’s crimes. The store manager was polite enough to pull me aside when he requested that I start using the pick-up app rather than coming inside for my own safety and peace of mind until things died down. My mother ranted and raved telling me if I don’t want to sue, I should at least report him to the corporate manager.

I told my mother I would probably only be a week or two, but I was planning to stay at least a couple of months. By the time I made it to the house, the estate lawyer was already there waiting. She was an older lady named Janna Curtis. She wore glasses and had her hair in a stylish platinum pixie cut. She unlocked the door and showed me around. There was the sitting room, the laundry room just behind a door in the kitchen, the master bedroom and bathroom, my old room, another bathroom, the dining room, and the library. It was jarring being back after so many years away.

I knew it was all too good to be true. Ms. Curtis revealed to me that my grandparents had it in their wills that I was to be granted the deed to the house and the surrounding land as a college graduation present, but my father buried that fact because he was hoping to refinance the land to get quick cash for his last drug bender. It didn’t work, thankfully, and would have been given to me outright had he even had the chance to try.

The house, as far as appliances go, had been updated since I was a child. A new stove, refrigerator, and deep freezer. There was a deep fryer and microwave oven. Back when I was a child, my grandparents only had the microwave, blender, and slow cooker. The new side of this modern charm was…charming. Electricians came by regularly to check on the wires and electricity, along with a dependable housekeeping company to keep it clean from dust and mold, as well as a lawn service to keep the grass cut, the flowers tended, and the weeds down. There was even still a chicken coop with about ten or so live chickens. There was even a new alarm system put in place the week before so that only me and Ms. Curtis knew the code. The power and water were turned on, per my request, two days prior to my arrival so settling in was no problem.

“The lawn service company will come by next week. You have one visit left before you have to decide to keep them or take care of it yourself. If you do decide to keep them, I can handle the transfer of contract, if you would like.”

“Thank you, Ms. Curtis. I would appreciate that.” There was enough money left in my grandparents’ account for the upkeep of the property to continue utilizing the lawn service company. Even when that money was gone, I was going to do everything I can to keep my home as beautiful as it was in my memories.

Before Ms. Curtis left, not only did she leave with the keys, but she also left a letter from my grandma written before she passed. She assured me that no one, not even my father or aunts, knew the contents of the letter.

When Ms. Curtis left and the groceries were put away, I sat in my granddad’s favorite chair by the window and opened the letter.

“My little Buttercup,

I’m watching you outside the window as I write this. You and your granddaddy are fishing at the end of the dock. I miss you already because I can feel that when you read this, we will already be gone. I wish that when we are gone, my fool of a son will be there for you in our absence, but I know that will never happen. Aside from our love, this home and this land is the only thing we can leave you so that these moments we spent together in this house and all the land that surrounds it, will never leave you. You won’t be back here for a very long time.

When you do come back, things will have changed. I see how much you love the water even as a child, and I know that love will never fade, just be forgotten for a little while. I know you. When you come back the first thing you will want to do is to let this place know you’re back to claim it. I ask that before you do, you give Offering to the Lake the same way we used to on the first day of every visit.”

I stopped reading there as a memory, long forgotten, suddenly came back. The three of us, me, grandma, and granddad, would walk down the dock, all the way to the edge. Grandma would put a small, sharp knife in my hand, while grandpa held one of the chickens. She guided my hand with the knife to its neck and—

I shook my head, not wanting to think about the blood squirting on my clothes and onto the dock. I exhaled heavily, continuing.

“I can almost imagine the disgust on your face now, remembering our Offerings. I felt the same way in the beginning, but everything and everyone serves a purpose. The Lake knew you well when you were a child, but not only will you be gone for years and return without us, your scent, your essence, everything about you, will have changed to bring you from childhood to womanhood. I beg you, my little Buttercup. You honored our traditions when you were a child, please, please, honor them again. Do not enter that water without an Offering first. Look after the Lake, and the Lake will look after you.

I love you, my Buttercup.”

It was crazy. Completely insane. Yet, just before the sun went down, I took a chicken from the coop and walked it down to the end of the dock. The chicken clucked and looked at me liked it trusted me. I almost backed out, but another memory, one of my granddad telling me that if we didn’t do this every time, worse things than gators would come out of the water, made up my mind.

I pressed a kiss to its head, whispering “forgive me,” just before I slit its throat. I turned it just in time so that most of the spray hit the water and not me. I tossed the dying chicken into the lake and turned on my heels not bothering to see whatever may happen next.

I went back inside ignoring the splashing sounds behind me. I took a long hot bath. I almost couldn’t believe what I had done, but a part of me felt like it was the right thing to do. I called my mother and checked that she was still alright. I really wanted her to come with me, but she was never a fan of leaving her home to state jump for any reason.

I got ready for bed that night while playing my grandparents’ old vinyl records. I went through all of them, smiling to myself as I remembered them dancing to Jackie Wilson’s To Be Loved. I let it play, the music filling the house, making every room come to life again. I could almost hear my grandparent’s laughter and see them dancing in my mind’s eye. My favorite song was Santo & Johnny’s Sleep Walk. Not the singing version, but the instrumental. That haunting melody was so peaceful. My granddad used to let me stand on his feet and we would dance around the living room with Sleep Walk playing and grandma taking pictures.

But then I found the last vinyl in their collection. Johnny Ace’s Memorial Album. Charles loved Johnny Ace, specifically his Pledging My Love. We always danced to it, and every time, I would think how much my grandparents would appreciate that I found the last true gentleman in the world. I turned off the music. The memories were no longer pleasant and happy, but sour and painful.

I tried to go to bed and forget, but my mind would not let me. I knew what I had to do, even if I was putting it off longer than I needed. I put a robe over my long-sleeved sailor moon shirt and socks. Not giving myself time to think or change my mind, I went to my closet and removed the garment bag. There was a fire pit in the backyard. I unzipped the garment bag. Inside was my wedding dress. It had been over a year since I let myself gaze at the beautiful layers of lace and chiffon. Spare no expense, Charles had told the Parisian seamstress he hired. Nothing but the best for my Mrs. Stanford. I remembered the way it felt against my skin when Charles talked me into letting him fuck me in it the day before our rehearsal dinner. Charles was rabid that day. Something dark danced behind his mesmerizing gray eyes as he pulled off his tie and wrapped it around my throat. With each powerful thrust, his grip grew tighter and tighter. I came harder than I ever had, but a part of me was terrified he was not going to stop. I should have known then that Charles was not at all the man he made us believe he was.

I arranged the dress on the pit, dousing it with lighter fluid. Ignoring the tears trailing down my cheeks and the ominous feeling of being watched by unseen eyes, I struck a match, hesitating for only a second. Throwing that lit match onto my dress was as painful as it was freeing. I stepped back as the flames rose, steadily consuming the material until nothing remained but ashes.

“Fuck you, Charles,” I whispered, brushing my tears away with my sleeves.

When the fire died down, I went back inside, locking the door behind me. I felt better and completely drained. I made myself a cup of hot tea and stood at the kitchen sink, feeling the exhaustion sink into my bones. The sky was pretty that night with stars all over. I looked out onto the lake and saw that the water was moving, rippling. I squinted my eyes, trying to see what it was. I knew it was not a gator because even a really big gator would not make that size of a disturbance. Something peeked above the surface. A moccasin maybe?

I shook my head. I would have to check the garden shed tomorrow for lime. I gave the lake one last look before shutting the curtains and climbing the stairs to my room.

That night, I had the best night’s sleep since everything with Charles started. I woke up early that next morning feeling a huge weight had lifted from my shoulders. I made myself a loaf of homemade bread, scrambled eggs, and another cup of tea. It was a lot colder on the lake than I remember, especially for it to be Florida. I showered and dressed in a pair of jeans, an olive V-neck sweater, and black booties. I enjoyed my breakfast outside. Breathing in the crisp morning air, I felt like a new person.

I took my jellied slice of bread and started to walk down the dock. It was one of those dreary mornings. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, and it looked like it might start raining at any moment. I loved when the weather was like this. There was a heavy mist lingering across the body of water behind the house. It was strangely quiet for this type of morning. There were usually birds chirping or squirrels foraging, maybe even a deer or two randomly walking in the yard.

I swallowed the last bite of my toast thinking of what I might do today. I might start job searching. I had some money in my savings from working the fast-food racket before, during, and after college, but I had no intentions of going back to that thankless cycle of take, take, take, without any significant give. Distantly, I wondered if I should change my name. Or perhaps take my mother’s maiden name. My last name was synonymous with the Black Widower.

I sighed, sitting by the edge of the dock. My mother had been trying to encourage me to get back into my writing. Outside of the required writings in class, the last time I wrote something…I closed my eyes, remembering exactly the last time I wrote something. I started feeling inspired during my last semester. It felt like the world around me had transformed from the monotonous dead-end of serving ungrateful, entitled customers for nickels and dimes to suddenly being able to go anywhere and do anything as one of the graduate elite.

I wrote two chapters and was so excited to show Charles. There was a time when I was painfully self-conscious about showing anyone my writing, but Charles had become more than a partner to me. He was my greatest motivator. I felt that there was nothing I could tell him. My story was about an elementary school teacher whose family was chosen to have a protector born in each generation. The protector would leave their home in the dead of night, lost in a trance, and venture deep into the woods behind their family home. There the protector would transform. I was still developing what that transformation would become. The townspeople would release a violent member of their community into the woods, the rapists, the child predators, the murderers, and domestic abusers, so that the protector could dispatch them. They would never remember changing, killing, or even going into the woods. They would be brought back to their home and returned to their bed as if nothing had happened. It was a shaky concept that needed a lot of work, but the seedling of the idea excited me.

When I let Charles read the two chapters I wrote, he laughed. He laughed and told me that it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever read. Worse even than some of the papers he had to suffer through during his courses. He pulled me onto his lap and kissed my forehead, still chuckling. “You have many talents, darling, but writing is not one of them.”

My tears fell soundlessly into the water. I didn’t mean to start crying but remembering the pain and embarrassment I felt under Charles’s cruel laughter hurt.

I heard splashing, just like last night. This time it was closer to where I was sitting. I peered down into the water. It was hard to see with the heavy mist covering the water.

I gasped.

There was something.

Something emerging from the water.

It was a man? Maybe?

He had blonde hair and pale skin. So pale it was blue.

But it was the eyes. There were no white or even iris or pupils. There were only yellow orbs in a vertical shape. The mist obscured the rest of him. The only clear thing was his face. His nose had a distinctly patrician shape. His lips were full and pouty and there were ridges underneath where his earlobes should have been.

“Please tell me I’m being pranked by Guillermo del Toro and you’re really Doug Jones in some amazing fucking makeup,” I rambled, trembling.

The man—creature—thing tilted his? Its? Head at me. Yellow eyes unblinking.

“Can you understand me?” the unblinking stare. “Can you speak?” still nothing. “I guess you’re the secret my grandparents kept from me. You ate the chicken yesterday, right?” his, its, eyes still didn’t blink and that was more than uncomfortable. “Okay, so, you’ve been here since I was a child, probably longer. That’s fine. I won’t tell anybody. I mean, this is obviously your lake and I’m just—” tentacles. Tentacles peeked over the edge of the dock. Dozens of them. They slithered and coiled independently of each other like snakes. The undersides of the tentacles were covered in suction cups that opened and closed like tiny mouths mimicking kisses. “Okay, let’s be cool. Okay? Let’s not start touching!” I tried to keep the hysteria from leaking into my voice, but I was doing a pretty shit job because the tentacles moved even more determinedly. “You want another Offering, right? I’m supposed to do that every day? Grandma didn’t put that in the letter, but times change and I’m nothing but adaptable. So! I’m going to go and grab you one of those chickens or two, why not, right? It is cheat season, after all, once October hits!” I tried to crawl back when two of the tentacles wrapped around my ankles, dragging me back towards him. It. I almost bit my tongue off, trying not to scream. Don’t panic. Never, ever panic. But the Creature brought me even closer than I was before. Now my legs hung over the end of the dock. I felt the cold water around my ankles. The Creature’s webbed claws rested on top of my thighs, the water off its skin seeping through my jeans. It opened its mouth and there were fangs, sharp, ivory white fangs surrounded by jagged teeth. Its tongue lolled out, long, thick and red. I gasped, choking out a whimper when it touched my cheeks, lapping up tears I didn’t know were falling.

“Bu—but—er—up…” it rasped.

“What?” I trembled. More tentacles emerged. They surrounded me, touching my cheeks, pressing my hair, slipping under my shirt. “What are you doing?”

“But—er—up…” it repeated. It moved closer, the tip of its cold wet nose touching mine. “But—ter—up…”

Then it hit me. “Buttercup? Aa—are you trying to say Buttercup?” it didn’t answer, but one of its tentacles tightened once around my wrist. “Yes! I’m Buttercup.” Surprisingly, I felt a little better knowing that this, Creature, had been around long enough and intelligent enough to not only understand my grandparents calling me Buttercup, but to remember me. “Or at least the taste of my tears,” I mumbled. “Do you have a name?” that unblinking stare was my answer. “What do the others call you?” the tentacles thankfully withdrew from my shirt and ankles. I looked beyond it and at the surrounding water. “Are there more of you? Here in my—your lake?” its expression did not change, but there was a strange feeling of sadness in those yellow orbs staring unblinkingly at me. “Only you.” A single squeeze around my wrist as if to confirm my words. “I’m alone too,” I whispered. “I wanted to be. It’s why I came out here.” I couldn’t believe I was making a conversation with a…water…creature…thing. “This is your lake. Do you, do you want me to leave?” the tentacle around my wrist squeezed twice this time. “Stay? You want me to stay?” a single squeeze.

The Creature let me go without trying to eat me. Its yellow eyes tracked my movements back towards the house. Just to be sure, I grabbed another chicken from the coop and held it over the water for another Offering. The Creature watched me with silent yellow eyes and made no move towards it until I turned my back. I ignored the splashes and horrific ripping sounds as I walked back to the house careful not to run. Don’t ever run.

I’m not proud to admit it, but when I went back to the house after locking every door and window—like that was enough to stop it if it wanted to come inside—I changed out of my wet clothes so that I wouldn’t catch pneumonia and lit the fireplace. I opened the freezer pulling out a chilled bottle of vodka. I promised my mother I would stop spending my days drinking, but this was different. This particular bender had less to do with a serial killer ex-fiancé and more with the Creature from the Black Lagoon inhabiting my lake. Usually, I mixed it with cranberry juice or even orange juice, but after seeing what I just saw, I drank that shit from the bottle. I drank until my insides were burning.

“So much for a productive day!” I slurred.

I stumbled to the living room to the old record player. Sleep Walk was still on the player. I turned it on, letting the music lull me. Even with the vodka coursing through my blood, I was still shaking.

I woke up the next morning to a pounding in my head and a sour, rancid taste in my mouth. But what had me wanting to reach for my bottle again were the damp spots on my clothes and the distinct smell of the lake clinging to the fabric. Slowly, hesitantly, I glanced out of the kitchen window expecting to see the Creature watching me from the lake, but there was nothing there. Just the calm open lake, the surface swaying from the gentle breeze.

I took a long, warm shower, still not quite adjusting to the unusually cold Autumn weather in Okeechobee. I slipped on a burgundy long-sleeved scrunchie dress, black tights, and thick wooly socks. I hoped that the Offerings would tide the Creature over for the next couple of days because I had no plans of venturing out to the dock. A part of me was still holding out hope that yesterday was just some hysterical episode triggered by not only the move but by participating in my grandparents’ superstitious practices.

“God, if the Game Warden had any clue what I was doing to those chickens I’d have fines out of my ass, not to mention my very own cell. Wouldn’t that be a fitting end for the Black Widower’s Bride?”

With nothing left to do, I unpacked the few vinyls I refused to leave home without. I decided reading would be more than a good distraction. It was a good thing I brought my own books along. More than half of the books in the library were my grandma’s and those books all had Fabio Lanzoni on the cover. “The next man I’m going to marry if your granddaddy puts even one toe out of line,” she used to sigh, staring fondly at the cover of her favorite, making my granddad huff and mutter under his breath, “well, if you get Fabio then I’m going after Pam Grier.” I put on Whitney Houston, smiling to myself when Saving All My Love For You began to play. I made myself a light brunch of soup, warm bread, and Gatorade to help settle my stomach. I put the Creature in the lake out of my mind and lost myself in the pages of a book from Disney’s A Twisted Tale series. Unbirthday was book number ten in the series. I’ve read them all at least twice and liked to reread them again and again until a new one drops. I was bidding my time until Almost There is released, the ‘What If’ take on Princess Tiana’s story I’ve been waiting for.

There was a noise over my music.

Knocking.

For a moment, I was afraid that the Creature from the lake was knocking at my door.

“No, that’s stupid. Why would it knock?”

I forced myself to leave the sanctuary of the library and trudge to the front door. A tall man dressed in a police uniform faced away from the door. I opened it a little peering out.

“Yes?” there was no such thing as a good visit from the police, and in the past year, the police had not been kind to me.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He turned to me, taking off his shades, revealing startling blue eyes that managed to be both kind and concerned. “I’m Sheriff Levinson. Would it be all right to speak with you for a moment?”

“Yes, Sheriff, please come in.” He took off his hat and stepped inside, brushing past me. He smelled good. “Would you care for some tea or a cup of coffee?” I offered. I had a bad feeling about the Sheriff being here and wanted to put off whatever his reasons for this visit were as long as I possibly could.

“A cup of coffee sounds lovely, ma’am,” he smiled politely, showing off incredibly white and perfect teeth behind one of the most glorious beards I’ve ever seen.

When I returned carrying the wooden serving tray my grandma loved to use on days when we would all sit in the library room, the Sheriff was standing by my granddad’s old chair looking out the window towards the lake.

“Coffee’s ready!” I called a little too loudly, terrified that the Sheriff was seeing the Creature.

“Thank you. It’s always been a little colder here than anywhere else in town,” he remarked.

“I don’t remember it being this cold during my visits when I was a child.”

“It’s the lake,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“The lake?”

“Yes, after your grandparents passed, may God rest their souls, all of the warmth seemed to go with them. In the winters, the lake gets so cold that it’s unable to freeze. It’s the damnedest thing.”

“I’m sure.” Sure that the Creature has everything to do with that. “Whitney Houston.” He smiled with a sigh, listening to You Give Good Love. “I see your grandparent’s taste in music lives on in you.”

“Did you know my grandparents well, Sheriff?”

“I did. I spent a lot of time here in the summers helping your granddad keep the land up. I’m awfully fond of this place, particularly the woods.”

“Well, thank you for being here when I couldn’t.” I hope he knew I meant that. “And you’re welcomed here at any time.”

His eyes lit up and his smile was as beautiful as the rest of them. “Do you really mean that?”

“I do, Sheriff. It always bothered me that I didn’t push more with my mom to come back here. The time I spent here with my grandparents was some of the happiest of my life.”

“I’m sure they knew that. Thank you, Buttercup.” The Sheriff mirrored my wide-eyed gaze over his slip.

“Does everyone here know me by that name?”

The Sheriff’s cheeks turned an appealing shade of red. “I’m sorry, but your grandparents used Buttercup more than your actual name when they talked about you.”

“It’s fine, Sheriff.”

“Please, call me Ari.”

“Ari,” I repeated, liking the way his name sounded. “I’m going to regret bringing this up, but I don’t believe coffee and a friendly conversation was your motivation for stopping by today.”

Ari’s smile fell. “You’re correct, unfortunately. I got a call this morning from INTERPOL.” I think my heart stopped. “Charles Blackwood was killed last night in a prison riot.”

We sit in silence for a moment. Ari’s eyes are on me as I stir my now lukewarm tea. Whitney Houston still sings to us. The grandfather clock in the library chimes signaling a new hour. INTERPOL declared Charles Blackwood dead and the grief or relief I should be feeling never comes. Maybe I did know him better than I thought.

Ari’s warm, calloused hand settled over mine. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t answer that right now. I need to stop by the fish market for a couple of pounds of turtle meat. I was so busy trying to get here the other day, it completely slipped my mind.”

“I don’t think you should be driving right now, Buttercup. I can make that trip for you.”

“No, no, I can’t ask you to do that, Ari. You’re the sheriff for god’s sake!”

“And as the sheriff, it’s my duty to assist each and every person in my jurisdiction.” Ari’s hands took mine as he moved to kneel in front of me. He was such a large man. He was wide and rugged like a lumberjack and tall enough that even kneeling he still had to look down to make eye contact. “You’ve opened your home to me, this is the least I can do for you.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the softness of his voice left me powerless to deny Ari. “Thank you, Ari.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to. I, um, didn’t see a ring, so I’m hoping that I won’t offend you or a possible significant other by inviting you to dinner.” Even with the numbness settling into my bones over Charles’s apparent fate, the little part of me I ignored since the arrest, the part of me that longed for even one friend who didn’t want me around just to talk about the murders, wanted to reach out to Ari.

“There is no significant other, and I would love to have dinner with you. Tomorrow night, if you can?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Great. I’ll bring the meat back then, too. Unless you need it now?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be doing much cooking tonight.”

Ari licked his lips and reached inside the pocket of his coat. “This is my card. It has my home phone, my cell phone, and my direct number at the station. You call me anytime if you need anything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see myself out. You just take it easy today.”

I stayed in my chair long after he was gone. I should be calling my mom. There’s a chance that the authorities contacted her to contact me. But all I could do was just sit there.

“Killed in a prison riot,” I mumbled. “That sounds exactly like Charles.” I forced myself to trudge to my bedroom. There was still one small bag I left unpacked. It contained my jewelry—the ones not seized by the police—my perfume bottles and nail polish along with the sparse collection of eyeliners and lipsticks. Underneath those were pictures. Not many. Just two or three.

Grabbing my flannel shawl, I stepped outside with the pictures clutched in my hand. It was still cold like I was back in Alabama where the winters could get as low as thirty degrees at night. I spared a passing glance to the ashes of my wedding dress still lingering in the pit. I sat by the edge of the dock, tucking my legs underneath me. I was still examining the pictures in my hand when the splashes came.

“Charles never liked having his picture taken.” It was funny. Looking at the pictures now, it was obvious Charles always did something to obscure focus. Fiddle with his cufflinks, turn his head to glance at something over his shoulder, or whispering my ear so that the person with the camera focused more on my smile than Charles hiding his face. Anything so that no one could take a decent picture of him. “He always said he would rather sit for a painter, but that there were hardly any painters left worth the time and money. The red flags were always there. I suppose I just didn’t want to see them.” I came to the last picture. This was the only candid shot I had of Charles. “But there was one time when he was tending to my mom’s garden. He looked so happy and at peace.” I turned the picture around so that the Creature could see Charles. “I snapped his picture just as he looked up at me. I still get chills thinking about the look in his eyes that day and how he punished me that night until I had to lie and say that the picture didn’t take because of his quick movements.”

The Creature regarded me with its silent yellow eyes. Only this time, I felt sure that it understood every word I spoke. “I’m giving my relationship with him a disservice. Charles never hit me or forced himself on me or anything horrible that everyone always assumes happens when you say you were punished. He was really good to me. I could talk to him about anything.”

I could see a little more of the Creature now. The surprisingly broad shoulders and pecs. There were four slits on each side of the Creature’s neck that fluttered rhythmically. Gills. Lake water settled in the dips of its collarbones trailing down its pecs and disappearing in the water below.

My core clenched around nothing, and I had to laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. “I must be losing my mind.”

But the Creature’s nostrils flared, and its eyes were locked on my legs. It made me nervous.

Then its slithering, writhing tentacles broke the surface of the lake, crawling up the dock. Like the day before, two tentacles wrapped around my knees. The strength of these weird limbs startled me and nearly toppled me backward. The tentacles pulled me closer, holding on to my legs in a firm grip. Unlike yesterday, I had no desire to fight this Creature. Maybe it was my own failures in life, my failures as a woman in not seeing the monster lurking just beneath my fiancé’s charming façade, all for the sake of being loved for the first time, that made me think I should let this Creature do whatever it wanted with me.

Another tentacle, this one a little thicker than the two holding me came up between my legs. The third tentacle brushed against my center tentatively. The light, barely-there pressure left me gasping and clenching around air. More of its tentacles slithered and crawled up the dock. Before I could blink, the tights were ripped from my body. It brought me closer to it, putting my legs over its shoulders. My heart raced and I knew it was completely stupid and horribly dangerous, but when the Creature’s tentacle nudged at the gusset of my thong before tearing off too, I begged. Laying on the dock in the freezing cold, I begged this humanoid creature to touch me.

My lips were swollen, my little nub was throbbing, and my arousal dribbled out of my hole and down my ass. The tentacles with their opening and closing cups, mimicking kisses writhed all over my mound. It drifted lower, making me cry out as one of the cups closed over my nub.

“Oh, god!” I cried. It had been so long since someone touched me that way. “Please, please.”

The Creature after saying my name only once and then going back to being mute, started making odd sounds. It was a mix between a whale’s song and a dolphin’s clicking. The odd sounds must thrum through the Creature’s body because I could feel the vibrations through its tentacles. That third thicker tentacle probed my opening before pushing inside me, stretching me.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, wriggling my hips to take more. It squirmed and wiggled inside of me, the little cups kissing and sucking my walls. I came with a wail, writhing like I was having convulsions. As amazing as sex the sex was with Charles, he had never gotten me off so good. I opened my eyes to see the Creature now nose to nose with me. Its breath coming in little puffs against my face. The Creature kept going, this time taking another tentacle, this one smaller than any that’s touched me to circle my puckered hole. My eyes rolled in the back of my head. The Creature’s tongue lolled out of its mouth, dragging up my chin to my lips. The tip of the second tentacles slipped into my hole, twisting, and wiggling until I opened enough to take it all the way inside me. The little cups kissing and sucking me there along with the third tentacle inside me and the extra still attached to my bud, I came again, my screams echoed around the trees as my vision went white.

When I came back to myself, the Creature had politely pulled my dress down to cover my nudity. The inside of my thighs was slick, and I could feel a big wet spot on the back of my dress. Its tentacles had retreated to the water and its claws rested on either side of my feet. Charles’s picture lay shredded beneath those claws, making me smile.

“The sheriff will be back tomorrow night. He says he’s been here with my grandparents before they passed. I trust him. Granted, I’m not the best person to gauge anyone’s character, but…I know you were in the house somehow after I fell asleep yesterday.” The Creature blinked and there was something in that blank stare that came across more of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Clearly, you can leave the water at any time you wish. I guess what I’m asking, with the sheriff and anyone else, I’ll bring you an Offering as much as you want, but please, don’t stop looking after me or this land.” The Creature made its chirping sound. I smiled a little, cupping its cold cheek. “Thank you, Jake.” The Creature tilted its head at me. “You look like a Jake.”

I slept well that night. So well in fact that I woke up twenty minutes after eleven the next morning to my phone ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, still laying there with my eyes closed.

“Well, thank you for calling me last night to let me know you’re okay!”

My mother’s tone made me wince. I meant to call her last night, but after the day I had, and the ending with the Creature—Jake, I barely had enough energy to shower. “I’m sorry, mama. You know about Charles then?”

“Yeah, the police called me trying to reach you and it’s on every news channel. I don’t wish death on anybody, but I can’t lie and say that I’m not relieved he’s gone. Are you alright?”

“I’m,” I sat up, sighing. “Sad that the person I wanted to marry wasn’t real, but I’m not sitting here crying because they told me he’s dead either.” But you didn’t want to talk about Charles. He was the past and there was so much more ahead of me now. “I wish you would change your mind and come down here. You know T.J. would drive you and watch the house while you’re gone.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just don’t want to travel right now.”

“I’ll probably come back in another week or so. Other than the patties, is there anything you want me to bring back? Oh, and before you ask, Dandee Bread isn’t on the shelves anymore. They were bought out by the company that makes Sunbeam.”

“That’s so fucked up.” She was not alone in her disappointment. It might not seem like a big deal to most people, but simple things such as a brand of bread or dairy were an essential part of our past. Florida had been both of our homes for years before the move to Alabama. Both her parents and my dad’s parents were gone now. Losing these two staples of the past was like saying a final goodbye to the vestiges of a life you’re not ready to let go of. “I guess a couple of pounds of crabs and shrimp.”

We chatted a little longer about the latest gossip happening down the street and with the handful of celebrities she still cared about, before saying our goodbyes. I had a lot to do today. Not only did I have to cook a nice meal for Sheriff Ari, but I needed to make my Offering to Jake, as well as see about getting some more wood chopped for the fireplace. Between yesterday on the dock and this constant abnormally cold weather, I would be lucky if I ended the week without a cold.

Dressed as warmly as can be in one of my granddad’s old flannels and a pair of jeans and sneakers, I made the familiar trek down the dock to give Jake his daily Offering. I didn’t turn this time. I watched the chicken’s blood spread through the water. The crimson tide beckoned Jake forward. I tried not to shiver watching his head slowly break surface like he was Sadako in Ringu.

“Good afternoon, Jake!” I smiled brightly. “One of these days I’ll be able to say good morning instead.” Jake looked pointedly at the chicken and then to me. “After yesterday, do you think I’m afraid to watch you eat that? It’s okay. I promise.” Jake looked at me for a long time before he finally grabbed the chicken with his claws and took big bites, making more blood gush and splash across his face. “Chicken is one of my favorite types of meat, you know, of course, I do love it cooked.” I rocked back and forth on my heels looking over at the surrounding woods. There was still no sign of wildlife out there. “You being here, it’s not scaring away the animals in the woods, is it?” Jake to no great surprise did not answer me but kept his eyes on me as he ate. “I don’t think it is. Even when you do get out of the water, I don’t think you like to take strolls through the woods just for shits and giggles. Something else out there is keeping the animals away.” It was a sobering thought. I could still remember when I was a child and me, mom, and my stepdad would drive around to find new fishing spots. We came across a panther. Its fur was blacker than a starless sky and eyes as yellow as Jake’s. I didn’t necessarily want to see a panther or a coyote or even a bear, but it made me wonder, if something like Jake could keep the gators away, what could keep the big game animals out of my woods?

“I need to get back inside and get started on dinner.” I turned back to Jake, and he had already gone back underwater. “Rude,” I huffed. He emerged again before I could head back to the house. What he brought with him made me smile. Two large bass fish. “Hold on a minute.” I jogged back up to the house, grabbing a ten-gallon bucket. “Put them in here, please.” He dropped the fish in the bucket, his gills fluttering lightly. “Thank you, Jake.” He nuzzled my hand when I cupped his face. A part of me wanted to stay and keep talking to Jake. Having him as a soundboard was turning out to be better than any conversation I had had in the past, but there was still so much to do. “I’m going to go back inside now, Jake. I’ll see you later.”

I put the fish in a mixing bowl of cold water inside the fridge, resolving to gut and scale them tomorrow. I washed my hands twice to get rid of that dead fish smell and started on my dinner for Sheriff Ari. Downhome South seemed like a good choice. Deep fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, mixed mustard and turnip greens, and honey butter cornbread. Dessert would be my grandma’s homemade yellow cake with malted chocolate buttercream frosting.

I set up my MacBook in the kitchen to start streaming the Universal Horror films on Peacock. The sounds of Dr. Frankenstein’s rapture over his monster taking its first breath filled the kitchen. Even as I cooked my eyes kept flickering to the lake. Sometimes, I would see the water moving in certain spots or the hint of tentacles skimming the surface. By the time I pulled the macaroni and cheese out of the oven, Jake had his head out of the water watching me through the window. It must be so lonely for him to be the only one of his kind. From what little I knew of humanoid creatures, thanks in part to fanfiction, Jake must have been a Cecaelia. It was crazy trying to wrap my head around the idea that creatures like Jake existed. What else was out there? Was the old adage true? Every story about myths and monsters is rooted in some form of truth. Did that mean that there were really vampires stalking their victims in the dead of night? Were there werewolves running through the woods during full moons? What about witches? Were there covens powerful enough to bring the world to its knees if they willed it? It might explain the Coronavirus Pandemic.

“Doesn’t matter. One monster in my life is more than enough.”

After icing the cake, I took a quick shower and may or may not have taken a little extra time with my hair and eyeliner. It was ridiculous to feel so anxious about dinner with the sheriff, but it was nice feeling anxious about dinner with a guy again. If I grabbed a tribal tunic that hugged my curves a little more and a pair of those special leggings and ankle booties, who would know? I dug out my grandma’s Temptations collection and put on The Temptations Sing Smokey.

The sheriff arrived just before sunset. He came to the door dressed in tight jeans and a red plaid collar shirt and Timberland boots. His pretty eyes flattered me as they languidly perused my body. Sheriff Ari seemed to be pulling out all the stops bringing along a bag of my presumed turtle meat, wine, and a flower bouquet. Buttercups. Cute.

“Good evening, sheriff.”

“Miss Buttercup,” he grinned, offering me the bag, wine, and flowers.

“Please come in.” Ari pulled off his heavy coat and hung it by the door. “I hope you don’t mind, but I remember your grandma saying how much you loved her rabbit stew, so I went and picked up a pound of that, too. I picked that up from Gus’s Market. It’s on my account, but I told him you were in town, and he’s willing to send deliveries this far out.”

That was incredibly thoughtful. This house was beyond city limits making deliveries impossible. “Thank you so much, Ari! Boy, at this rate, I may never have to worry about going into town again.”

“You don’t have to thank me. All a part of being the sheriff.” It really was not, but who was I to argue with a handsome man wanting to do nice things for me?

Ari’s appearance outside of his sheriff’s uniform stunned me. He wore black leather suspenders. I never knew suspenders could look so sexy on a man. His sleeves were rolled at the elbows showing off tattoos on his forearms, and a hint of ink on his chest, exposed through the three undone buttons on his shirt.

“It smells good in here.” Ari kept his eyes on me as he said this. If I were naughty, I would think that he was talking about more than just my cooking.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells.”

His blue eyes darkened a little as he licked his lips. “My instincts have never led me astray.” But then his stomach growled, lightening the mood. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought,” Ari laughed.

“Good! Like my mama, I tend to overcook a little so there’s plenty for seconds and thirds.” I found a vase in the kitchen for the lovely bouquet of buttercups. “There’s some wine glasses in the cabinet.” I didn’t have to say that though, because Ari was already reaching for the glasses before I could finish. Exactly how much time did Ari spend here with my grandparents? “We can eat here or in the dining room.”

“Here is fine.”

“Then have a seat.” I glanced over my shoulder and asked, “so are you a leg or a breast man?” His eyes widened a bit as he floundered for an answer. “Chicken, Ari. How do you take your chicken?”

Ari laughed, shaking his head. “Both. I’m not a picky man. How have things been here so far?”

“Pretty quiet. Just me and the chickens.” And Jake. “I thought about maybe getting a pet or even a fish tank.”

“That’s a good idea. You don’t want to get cabin fever being out here all by yourself.”

“I don’t mind the quiet so much. It’s giving me a lot of time to think.” Ari made a pleased sound when I set his plate in front of him. “And while most people here probably know who I am, they don’t seem to care about the scandal like the people where I moved from.”

Ari took a hearty bite of chicken and moaned; full-out eyes rolled in the back of his head moan. That sound and the sheer ecstasy on Ari’s face were forever cataloged in my mind. “This is amazing, Buttercup! It’s like going back in time and having your grandma cooking for your grandpa and inviting me to stay for dinner after the baseball game.”

My eyes misted a little remembering grandpa patiently explaining to me the rules of baseball when we watched the Atlanta Braves play. “How much time did you spend here, Ari?”

“More than a little,” he smiled with all the charms of a child who wanted to say, I know something you don’t know. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a homecooked meal.” I was halfway through my meal, when Ari asked, “is it okay if I have a little more?”

“You sure know how to play into a woman’s ego, sheriff.” I happily swapped Ari’s empty first plate for a second. “Charles never cared for my cooking like that.”

“I would ask if he was crazy, but given the truth about his crimes,” Ari shook his head with a frown. “Could you really have gone through with marrying someone so unappreciative of you?”

I took a bite of my mac and cheese considering his question. “I would have.” I felt ashamed to admit my mistakes to Ari. “I guess I told myself that something as trivial as cooking or even my choice in hobbies didn’t matter much. When we were on campus, it was like there was something in the air that just made all those little differences that should have been big differences irrelevant. Charles was so sophisticated and worldly. He made me feel like I could have more than the small-town life I was destined to live after college.”

Ari’s sage eyes held no judgment or pity. “He let himself become everything you wanted until he knew you would never leave him.”

“You make it sound like he was abusing me, Ari,” I huffed, taking a generous swallow of wine. It did little to soothe my nerves.

“Abuse is not always violent, Buttercup.”

“No, I guess it’s not.”

Dinner ended on a more somber note than I would’ve liked. I did the only thing I could at that moment. I showed Ari to the living room and brought out two pieces of cake. David Ruffin’s soulful voice asking Who’s Lovin’ You created the perfectly relaxed atmosphere.

“I don’t know how, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’ve saved room for dessert.”

Ari’s smile was big and happy. “There’s always room for dessert!” He did that happy moan again, making it harder not to squirm beside him. “This is the best meal I’ve had since your grandparents passed. God bless their souls.”

“Thank you, Ari, but you should try my mama’s cooking. Now that’s someone who should have had her own restaurant years ago.”

“Is your mother coming down? I never got the chance to meet her and, forgive me for saying, but I wish the same could be said for your father.”

The flat look in Ari’s eyes and the anger simmering in his voice surprised me. “You didn’t care for my father much, I take it.”

“It’s not in my nature to speak ill of the dead, but the only thing worse than your grandparents not being able to see you as much, was the grief your dad caused them.”

“He caused a lot of people grief.” I still remembered how for weeks after his passing my mom would cry at night when she thought I was asleep. She moved on, but she never quite stopped loving him.

“Okay, enough gloom and doom for one evening! Do you have any plans for this Sunday?”

Ari's question puzzled me. “What happens Sunday?”

“Halloween,” I could hear the ‘obviously’ in Ari’s tone.

“Oh, shit. I can’t believe I forgot.” There was too much happening around me to make me forget about Halloween. “Halloween is my favorite holiday!”

“With all that’s happened, it’s not surprising you would forget.”

I bite my lip, considering my options. While it would be nice to see all the little kids in their costumes, I didn’t really think their parents would be willing to drive them to the secluded house of a stranger just to get a few pieces of candy.

“I want to wait and give the townspeople a chance to get to know me before I even start to think about passing out Halloween candy to their kids.” That and I kind of liked the idea of spending time on the dock with Jake.

Ari nodded thoughtfully. “That’s smart. They know of you, but it’s better to wait for them to see for themselves why your grandparents loved you so much.”

There was a moment when our eyes locked, and I thought that he might kiss me. I was torn between wanting to lean into it and wanting to run from it. Was it too soon for me to want to fuck Ari? Forget about the fact that I’ve only known him for two days, there were still so many unresolved issues with Charles, and then there was this whole thing with Jake. We still, or maybe I should say I since I would be the one talking, had not had the opportunity to address what any of that could mean.

A loud clap of thunder seemed to shake the house at its foundation. I jumped, looking towards the window. Lightning splintered across the darkened sky, and in less than a minute later, rain beat heavily against the roof and windows. “Where did that come from?”

“Anywhere and everywhere. I’m sure there’s a storm coming from the tropics to make landfall.”

“That’s the one thing I didn’t miss about Florida.”

“I should get going.”

“Ari, no. It’s damn near a hurricane out there. You can’t drive in that. Please, stay here. At least until it clears up.”

Ari sighs, standing with his hands on his hips. They sure as hell don’t make men like Ari in Alabama. “I guess I can stay until it clears up. I just don’t like leaving Sylvie alone when the weather’s this bad.”

“Sylvie?”

Ari grinned, taking out his phone. He thumbed through his pictures until he found one to show me. “This is Sylvie.”

Sylvie was this beautiful border collie with black and white fur. Ari was in the frame hugging Sylvie with a big, happy smile. “She’s so beautiful.”

“You have that longing look of someone who’s never had a dog before, Buttercup.”

“Because I haven’t. My mom is afraid of dogs and she’s allergic to cats. Growing up, having pets never went beyond one or two fish tanks.”

Ari sat back down beside me. “And you were an only child? Sounds like a lonely childhood.”

“It was at times, but the benefit was having a close relationship with my mother and stepfather.” Occasionally, I chatted with my half-siblings online, but there was no bond or connection there no matter how badly they seemed to wish it. “What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I’m an only child, too. I think it was what made your grandparents take to me so quickly. They needed someone to help fill that void of your absence.”

The storm continued to rage outside, and I wondered if Jake was alright. A ridiculous thought really, he was more accustomed to the turbulent and unpredictable Florida weather than me. I turned back to Ari to find him already watching me. His eyes were so blue. “You’re not at all what I expected from a sheriff.”

His mustache wiggled as those blue eyes sparkled in good humor. “How so?”

“I don’t know. I guess when I think of cops, I think of artificial sincerity and arrogance. Someone full-figured or a string bean. Definitely not someone looking like they climbed off a Harley.” I wondered what other tattoos were hiding underneath his shirt.

“Close. It’s a Suzuki from the 80s.”

“Really? Did you restore it yourself?”

“I did. Working on old cars and bikes is my way of decompressing.”

That sounded important, like this was his way of saying, ‘the news pretties it up, but you civilians don’t see all of the shit we see every day.’ But all I could think about was how good Ari must look covered in grease and sweat. Maybe he does it wearing, what we used to call in 2006, wifebeaters. Or even better, maybe he does it shirtless. All those tattoos on display. That fine dusting of ginger hair teasing me through the opening of his shirt, probably covered his pecs and made a delicious trail down his stomach.

“Buttercup?”

Ari’s smile was all too knowing, and I almost wished for the wind to blow me away from the embarrassment of the moment. I stole a glance towards the window again. And blinked. And blinked again. There was something in the sky. It was large like a buzzard, but I could not remember ever seeing a bird of prey or any bird for that matter flying while it was lightning.

“I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“It doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon, so, you can head to bed if you want, and I’ll stay down here.” For a moment, I had that small spark of stranger danger ticking in the back of my mind.

Drop-dead-gorgeous-tattooed-motorcycle-riding-sheriff or not, I really didn’t know Ari. Mama would knock the hell out of me for even thinking of leaving a strange man in my living room during a storm where help couldn’t come even if I needed it, while I slept in another room. “Um, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Hey,” Ari’s soft voice cut across mine, calling me by my real name as he took my hand. He placed it against his chest. Beneath that fine dusting of hair, that warm skin, and hard muscle, I could feel his heart beating steadily. “I promise you that I will never do anything to hurt you. When you wake up in the morning I will be gone, and I won’t come back until you ask.”

“Then I have one condition.” Ari waited expectantly. “The next time you come here, bring Sylvie. I want to meet her.” There was the skip to his heartbeat.

“She wants to meet you, too.” Ari looked down, cheeks staining a faint shade of pink. He grew shy all of a sudden. “I told her about you.”

It was still a little awkward going to my bedroom while Ari waited out the raging storm in the living room. I felt a little better and more than a little guilty turning the lock on my bedroom door. “It’s only sensible,” I told myself. I shook off my guilt of not completely trusting Ari and got ready for bed. The storm still raged by the time I lay down. The steady raindrops and rhythmic thunder rumbles lulled me to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I blinked my eyes blearily. I was lying on my stomach. The room was barely lit by the dim lamp at my bedside. The rain was still beating heavily against the window. My breathing slowed down, sensing a presence in the room with me. I turned over on my back. Ari stood at my bedside. The fear and anger I should feel never came. My eyes greedily drank in his nude form. The light dusting of ginger hair, the multiple tattoos of shapes that my tired mind didn’t have the energy to recognize, and that happy little treasure trail down Ari’s eight pack, underneath his little belly button, and straight down to the little thatch of dark red hair at the base of his cock. It was just as big and beautiful as the rest of Ari. Standing straight up and leaking. A pulsating vein adorned the underside of his cock, leading further down to his heaving balls that were about the size of a peach. Even Ari’s thighs were big and thick and rideable.

“Is this a dream?” I whispered, feeling like I was in that dreadful state of suspended sleep.

“It could be.” Ari gripped the sheets in his large fist, drawing the covers back. “Is that what you want?” he lifted a knee to climb onto the bed. I could feel the heat of his skin against my bare legs. Was this a dream?

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” Ari’s hands cupped my thighs, spreading them apart. “While you think about it,” he leaned forward, his towering frame blotted out the dim light. “Let me see if I can help you decide.”

I woke with a start. The storm had passed, and my bedroom was awash with sunlight. Pushing the covers back, I looked down at myself. I was still dressed the same as when I went to bed. The door was still locked. There was no way Ari could have been in my room. It was a dream. But it felt so real. Even taking a cursory glance around the house, softly calling, “Ari?” only to be met with silence, did not shake those thoughts that last night might have been more than a dream.

In the shower, I kept thinking about how soft Ari’s lips felt against my skin. That soft contrast to the rough scratch of his beard.

Dream Ari set one of my legs over his shoulder, kissing my ankle, and moving up my calf. The feeling of his lips and beard against the inside of my thigh had me choking on a laughing moan. Ari moved closer and closer to my center.

“You smell so fucking good!” he groaned, mouthing at the damp gusset of my panties.

“Please,” I whimpered, twisting, and turning to get as close to his mouth as physically possible.

“Not yet.” Ari pulled back, switching to my other leg, giving it the same treatment. “Will you let me taste you, sweetheart?”

“Please, please!”

I tried to shake away that dream, feeling the steady pulse in my center. There was too much for me to do to be thinking about fucking Sheriff Ari Levinson.

But even as I sat in my kitchen, having my small breakfast of grits and eggs, thoughts of Ari between my legs assailed me.

He tore the panties off my body with a flick of his wrist. I couldn’t even be angry when he stuffed them in my mouth.

He dove in, licking and sucking on my hard nub with a passionate hunger that I’ve never experienced. I sat up a little, careful not to disrupt Ari, and yanked my shirt off. I fell back, cupping my breasts, pinching, and rolling my nipples.

“Ari!” I moaned, feeling him work one of his thick fingers inside my leaking hole and then another until the sounds of my wetness competed with the raging storm outside my window.

“That’s it,” Ari groaned as my channel began tightening around his fingers. “That’s it, be a good girl and come on my fingers.”

My body was his to command as I fell over the edge with a muffled cry, giving him exactly what he wanted. The dream blurred together as I went from laying in my bed to being down on my knees, deep throating Ari as he grunted and groaned above me.

Was I imagining the phantom ache in my jaw from swallowing down Ari’s thick cock? His taste was like nothing I had ever experienced. He was salty and sweet. The scent of his skin was so soothing. Cedar, grass, and strawberries.

“Fuck, sweetheart! Just like that,” Ari growled, pulling back to let his come spread all over my tongue.

The dream changed again. Ari was still hard. His large body took up all my bed. His eyes were so dark as his big hands cupped and fondled my breasts, letting me ride him.

“Going from letting a mythical sea creature get me off to fantasizing about having semi-somnophilia sex with the hot sheriff, god, I need to get laid.”

Sitting on the dock with a blanket on my legs and a pillow underneath me, I talked poor Jake’s ears off. “People already think that I’m weird, so what difference will it make if I raid Walmart and Target on November 1 for their half-off Halloween decorations? It won’t be all tombstones and skeletons in the yard. I think I just want to keep bales of hay out here and some of those huge wax pumpkins. Would it offend you if I put some lanterns on the lake?” I printed out some pictures so Jake could see exactly what I meant. “It would look like this. Maybe not as many, but some.”

Jake's tentacle, that seemed to love wrapping itself around my ankle squeezed twice.

"Good, I'll order the lanterns tonight." I put the pictures aside and picked up my book again. I had started reading to Jake from Alvin Schwartz Scary Stories To Tell in the Dark. It was a hardback treasury of all three books in the series. He particularly enjoyed The Haunted House and Room For One More. "So, this one is called The Drum.

‘Once there were two sisters. Dolores was seven, and Sandra was five. They lived in a small house in the country with their mother and their baby brother, Arthur. Their father was a seaman and was away on a long voyage.

‘One day Dolores and Sandra were running across a field near their house when they met a g*psy girl playing a drum. Her family was camping in the field for a few days.

‘As the girl played, a little mechanical man and woman came out of the drum and danced. Dolores and Sandra had never seen such a drum, and they begged the girl to give it to them.

‘She looked at them and laughed. “I will give it to you,” she said, “but only if you are really bad. Come back tomorrow and tell me how bad you were, and I will see.”

Before I could read the next part, I heard the phone in the kitchen start to ring. I sighed, disappointed. I loved these stories and once I got into them, it was hard to put them down.

“Let me grab that right quick.” I tried to stand, but Jake squeezed my ankle twice. “Jake? What’s wrong?” he did it again. His expression never changed, but there seemed to be a sense of panic around him as eight of his tentacles, the most he had ever revealed to me, writhed, and twitched on the dock. “Hey, it’s okay. I promise I will be back.” I leaned forward, brushing my lips over his, distracting and shocking him enough to loosen his grip for me to scamper away. He made that odd whale cry that almost made me turn back around. “It’s going to be okay, Jake,” I said lowly, knowing he could hear me. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I jogged back to the house, going straight through the back door to the kitchen. Maybe one of these days, I would remember to install a phone in the bedroom.

“Hel—?”

“Listen to me very carefully,” my mother said, cutting me off. “Lock the doors and call the police!”

“Mama, what’s wrong?”

“INTERPOL was wrong. Charles didn’t die in that riot!” my heart dropped into my stomach as everything I believed deep down was suddenly confirmed. “Did you hear me, baby? He’s not dead!”

But my mother’s frantic voice no longer registered. All I could hear was the music playing in the front room. “I love you, mama.” I hung up the phone so that I couldn’t hear her cry.

Forever my darling our love will be true

Always and forever I’ll love just you

My hands trembled at my sides as I left the kitchen. I refused to grant him the satisfaction of chasing me down.

Just promise me darling your love in return

May this fire in my soul dear forever burn

Too soon I found myself standing in the living room with Johnny Ace continuing to croon his love and devotion.

And across from me, gazing out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back…was Charles. He turned around to face me. He looked nothing like the man I fell in love with. He shaved off his facial hair and grew out his hair. Gone were the soft sweaters I used to love stealing. No more casual jeans and John Lennon reading glasses I now know that he only wore for show. Or maybe it was camouflage. He stood in a crisp black suit; expensive-looking rings adored his pinky fingers. He even leaned on a silver wolf’s head cane. Professor Charles Stanford was gone and, in his place, stood Charles Blackwood, the Venice Ladykiller. The flat look in his eyes and the slow smile curling his lips made something in me ache to run away.

“Charles. Or should I call you something else?”

“I’ve always been partial to you calling me daddy.” My nostrils flared and it took me digging my nails into the palms of my hands to keep from losing it. “I know that it has been a while since we were together, but I don’t believe we have been apart long enough for you to forget your manners.” He cocked his head towards my granddad’s alcohol. Keeping Charles in my sight, I poured a glass of cognac. Charles’s fingers wrapped around mine for a moment before he took the glass out of my hand. “You were right before. About my name. I’ve changed it so many times over the years that I can hardly remember what my mother named me.”

“How long have you been here?” I ask as calmly as I can.

“Long enough to know that rather than grieving my reported demise, my little wife is content to open her bed to the good sheriff.”

“Charles, I—”

“Sshh,” he pressed his fingers against my lips, silencing me. “I won’t tell you I’m not angry, because I’m incredibly angry, but most of this is my fault. I found you and somewhere along the line I grew sloppy.” Charles pressed his forehead against mine, his hands digging harshly into my waist. He swayed us to the music with his eyes closed. “I took my first victim at the tender age of thirteen, and in all that time, you were the first woman I met that I didn’t want to kill. Now that’s not to say that there weren’t times I thought of just wrapping my hands around your throat and squeezing until I watched you take your last breath. But those were fleeting thoughts.”

“Until they weren’t.” I ignored the tears pooling in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks.

“Until they weren’t.”

“Did you ever love me, Charles?” on some levels I had to be a masochist. Why else would I ask the painful question I already knew the answer to?

“Darling, love is the fairytales we tell children before bed in the hopes that they won’t wake up one day to be the shitty people who deserve to have their throats slit from ear to ear. No, what I felt for you was not love. It was a profound desire to keep you from ever becoming one of my victims.”

“And now? You have to know this is the first place the police are going to check.”

“I’m aware.” Charles opened his eyes, looking down at me with a gaze so dark, it made me wonder if that was the last thing all those poor women he murdered saw. “What did you do with your wedding dress? I did have time to stop by your mother’s house while she slept, and I know you didn’t leave it there.”

I couldn’t begin to try to answer his question as the implications of what could have happened to my mom festered in my mind. Charles’s hands gripped me a little harder, making me wince. “I don’t have it.”

“You destroyed it,” Charles said, lips thinning in anger. “Don’t look so surprised. You always were a slave to your emotions. Be thankful that I didn’t get here in time to see you do it because if I had, I would’ve spanked your ass bloody before you even lit the match.” Charles took a deep breath to compose himself, working his neck back and forth. There was a time when I would have urge him to sit down so that I could work out those kinks and pains. “Open the bag.”

Charles had a garment bag on the couch. My heart dropped to my stomach already guessing what was inside. He took another sip of his cognac, watching for any signs that I would run. The wedding dress was not as beautiful or as elaborate as my old one.

“It’s not great, I know,” Charles made a face of displeasure. “But it will serve its purpose. Put it on. Right now.”

I didn’t think twice about arguing with Charles. He had nothing left to lose and that made him all the more dangerous to me. He leaned against the wall, sipping from his glass as he watched me strip down to my underwear.

“Stockings, too.”

I held my tongue and slipped on the unnecessary thigh-high stockings. The dress itself had a lace spaghetti top and tulle skirt that would brush the floor if I wore heels. He gestured impatiently to the white veil still in the bag. Once it was clipped to my hair, Charles swallowed the last of his cognac and prowled towards me. He circled me, taking in every angle of my body in the dress.

“Oh, yes. Not ideal, but it will do.”

“Do for what, Charles?” I found the courage to utter. “What are you trying to do?”

His smile that was once so beautiful and open now had the most sinister and foreboding aura. “I’m going to give us both what was stolen from us.” Charles grabbed my arm in a harsh grip, uncaring of my cries of pain. He forcibly dragged me from the room and out the door. He led me to the dock, and I was finally seeing the horrible conclusion to his plans. He pulled a gun from his jacket, enjoying the shocked fear etched in my expression. “I know, guns are so primitive, so impersonal, but when you’re in a pinch…” Charles dragged me midways the dock, forcing me to face him.

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to shoot me.”

“Shoot us, darling, shoot us! Our deaths here today will not be the end. Do you know that movies aside, there is a belief amongst the Japanese that if a person dies violently, it causes a deep, festering rage that gives that person the power to go on living beyond their death?” Charles ranted, looking more unhinged than I had ever seen him. “And believe me, my darling, these past months alone have filled me to the brim with incessant and uncontrollable rage.”

“By that logic, all of your victim’s spirits have lived on beyond their murders.”

“Then they should be thanking me for granting them life eternal.” He reached in his breast pocket taking out two gold rings, one of which he forced onto my finger. “With this ring, I thee wed, and all my worldly goods I thee endow.” I could only listen in undisguised horror as Charles recited his wedding vows to me. “In sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth, ‘til death do us part.” He pressed the cold metal barrel against my temple, forcing me to put the ring on his finger. “Say the words.”

The heavy fog grew denser around our feet and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees at once. “With this ring,” I could hear faint splashes towards the end of the dock. “I thee wed, and all my worldly goods I thee endow.” There was a distinct crack of a branch being stepped on from the trees behind me. “In sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth—”

A loud roar sounded behind me. I had only a moment to glance over my shoulder to see a huge bear bounding towards us. I screamed, immediately throwing myself to the side as Charles swore and began firing bullets towards the charging beast. I was too scared to look up, but I don’t think he hit it, because Charles was the one crying out as a spray of hot blood covered my face and chest. Another burst shook the dock, soaking the three of us with freezing cold lake water. This time I did look, and shi—

Jake was holding out on me. He didn’t have two legs like a regular man. His entire lower half that tapered off like the bottom end of a Dorito chip formed a dozen tentacles that were not only as thick as both of Ari’s thighs put together, but long like the monster drawings of the fabled Kraken’s attacking pirate ships. It was no wonder he stayed in the lake; he needed every inch of it.

“How the hell did he get all of that inside my house?” I muttered, feeling only half hysterical. Jake’s monstrous tentacle held Charles in place while the bear charged. “Fuck, are they working together?” I squeezed my eyes shut and tried covering my ears to block out the sounds of Charles’s screaming. But then the screams turned to wet garbles and choking sounds. Then there was nothing but silence. The dock shook underneath me as razor-sharp claws clicked along the wood. Oh no. Hot snuffling breaths blew against my face as the bear turned its attention to me. Oh, fuck. I was next. A big, wet, and even hotter tongue licked along my face. “Goddammit, killing machine or not, that’s fucking gross!” I opened my eyes to give that damn bear one last glare before he tore me to shreds, only to see it huff and sit down in front of me. Its blue eyes seemed bright with humor despite the blood matting its fur and staining its snout.

Wait.

Blue eyes?

To my amazement, the bear shrunk in size, the fur retreating inside its follicles. The snout retracting back into a nose, followed by the claws on its hands and feet. It was like watching a reverse Rick Baker transformation.

“Hey, Buttercup,” Ari waved awkwardly in all his naked glory.

“Ari??? What the hell—?” but then one of Jake’s monster tentacles, grabbed my ankles, dragging me down towards the end of the docks. “Jake! What are you doing?” he had tentacles holding both my arms and legs spread-eagled. He used another set of tentacles to tear the wedding dress off me along with my bra and panties, leaving me wearing only the thigh highs and veil.

“You scared him, sweetheart. All you had to do was stay out here and keep chatting with him and I would’ve taken care of that insane piece of shit for you.”

“You knew he was here? In town? You asshole!” I shrieked, knowing if I had my hands free, I would have taken a shot at that pretty face.

“Don’t be like that,” Ari purred, lowering himself by my head so he could nuzzle my nose. “I would have never let him hurt you.”

I wanted to argue more, but Jake brought my attention back to him when he unsheathed his cock from behind his tentacles. “J—J—Jake, I don’t think I can—”

“You can, and you will,” Ari said firmly. He was kind enough to spit on his fingers and reach between me and Jake. I tried to stay mad, but Ari’s fingers worked me open too good to be mad about anything. “There you go,” he cooed, kissing my forehead as he pushed three fingers inside me. Jake’s long bifid tongue poked and prodded at my mouth until I opened up, letting him lick all over.

Jake, seeming to have lost some of his own anger, pushed inside me carefully. He felt about as big as Ari and that was still almost too big. I was careful not to bite down on Jake’s tongue as I wiggled as much as I could to meet his deep, hard thrusts. His smaller tentacles with those sucking cups, teased my breasts, leaving my nipples hard and aching.

Ari, feeling left out, angled his hips upwards, sliding his cock inside my mouth beside Jake’s tongue. Jake’s unchanging expression seemed annoyed, especially when Ari shot him a roguish wink, but Jake didn’t pull back and even helped me by wrapping the split tips of his tongue around Ari’s cock.

Between the adrenaline of the fight and almost dying at the hands of my insane ex, the sex between us grew faster and harsher. Jake, Ari, and I made our own soundtrack of wet slaps and heavy moans, and guttural groans and clicks. My toes started curling as my legs shook. My back bowed as much as I was able and I came with a cry, gushing around Jake’s cock. He followed behind me with his high whale’s song, tightening his tongue, dragging Ari over the edge who shot his release down my throat.

We lay in a pile, tangled around each other, catching our breaths. If it weren’t for the freezing cold, I could’ve drifted off to sleep without a care in the world, surrounded by my two monsters.

“Jake?” I whispered, stroking the back of his neck, liking the way it made his gills wiggle. “I need to get warm or else I’ll end up catching pneumonia.” The pout in his eyes was cute. I leaned up, pressing my lips against his for only the second time. “I’ll come back out tomorrow.”

Jake drew his tentacles back, allowing the rest of his body to submerge back in the water. Ari helped me stand, looking free and at ease being completely naked beside me.

“Before you two came charging out, did you hear the last thing Charles said to me?”

“I don’t know about this one,” Ari gestured to Jake. “But I was more focused on making sure he didn’t shoot you before we could stop him.” Ari’s hands fell lightly atop my shoulders, rubbing them. “What did he say?”

“The short of it is that he thinks being killed and filled with rage at the point of dying gives you some sort of ability to live beyond death.” Jake and Ari exchanged a look. “What? Oh, don’t tell me Charles is actually going to be haunting my lake for eternity?”

“If he wants to share the lake with Jake, just so he can rip him apart over and over, so be it. But I doubt that’s possible for him. The rage and violent way he died does not trump the violent way he lived. He has a lot to answer for on the other side. He’s not going to be hanging around here in spirit form or anything else.”

I stared at the gold ring around my finger. Not so long ago, I would have given anything to become Charles’s bride. Now, the thought of rings and weddings and dresses made me want to vomit. I pulled the ring off my finger, giving it one final glance before casting it into the water, watching it sink into the darkness.

“Til death do us part.” Ari kissed my forehead, bringing me back to the topic. “And if you’re wrong?” I was genuinely concerned about my lake.

“Then I know a little lady who will perform an exorcism in exchange for ingredients to brew her potions.”

“What little lady?”

“You know her, or I should say know of her. She has a very distinct height and tone of voice.”

I thought about it and shook my head. “Bullshit. There is no way Tangina Barrons is a real person.”

“I swear that she is, Buttercup. Zelda Rubinstein shadowed her for six weeks when Tobe Hooper tapped her for Poltergeist.”

“My god,” I rubbed my temples. “Cecealias, werebears, witches, what’s next?”

“You saw Larry,” Ari offered.

“Larry?”

“Yes, Larry the Lightning Bird.” Ari’s boyish grin simultaneously charmed and unnerved me. “I needed an excuse to stay the night. I tried to be patient but knowing that you had already had Jake just pissed me off.”

“I thought I was having some kind of kinky dream! You’re an asshole, Ari Levinson.”

Ari’s smile fell. “You’re right. I am an asshole. I’m making a joke out of something serious, but it’s because I didn’t want to tell you that I asked Larry to make that storm because when I arrived at your house for dinner, I could see your ex watching your house from the woods.”

I shuddered, not fighting Ari’s hug. If Charles had managed to hide a little better, he could have killed me that night.

“I’m sorry for not telling you, sweetheart.”

“I’m still mad with you Ari, and no amount of pouting is going to change that, so don’t even start.” I was more annoyed than angry that I was half asleep, half hypnotized during my first time having sex with Ari.

“Fine.” Ari took my wrists in his hands. His hands were so big they looked like shackles around my wrists. It made sense that he was a bear. “What can I do?”

“Bring Sylvie tomorrow.”

“Done.” Ari kissed my knuckles. I was not going to forgive him.

“And you are going to cook for me.”

“I can do that. What else?” Ari’s eyes raked over my body, reminding me that I was only standing in thigh-high stockings and the veil that somehow survived Jake dragging me across the docks.

“After I’ve slept for the next twenty years, I want you to answer all my questions about yours and Jake’s world. I want to know what else is out there and why you all seemed to be drawn to my land.” Ari opened his mouth as if to answer. “I said, later. Not now.” As we walked back to the house, it finally felt like everything was going to work out.

Ari pressed his hand between my thighs, casually scooping up Jake’s spend dribbling out of me. He held eye contact as he pushed the soiled digits into his mouth, sucking them clean. Fuck. This man was going to be nothing but trouble.

“Your phone’s ringing, Buttercup.”

“Shit!” I took off running to the house not even thinking about Jake and Ari both getting an eyeful of my naked ass. “I forgot to call mama back!”

AN: And that's all she wrote!! I hope you guys had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. Send me your thoughts below, and tell me who you like more Cecaelia!Jake or Werebear!Ari. Happy Spooky Season!!

tags: @georgiapeach30513 @autumnrose40 @gotnofucks @jobean12-blog @luxeavenger @specialk-18 @maroonsunrise83 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @honeyloverogers @stargazingfangirl18 @caffiend-queen @geminixevans @angrythingstarlight @avintagekiss24 @indyluckycharlie @the-iceni-bitch @slothspaghettiwrites @giorno-plays-piano @foxgloveprincess @navybrat817 @river-soul @wayward-blonde @boxofbonesfic @xxindiglow @sweetlyscared @lotusss-flowerbomb

#sheriff!ari levinson x black!reader #cecaelia!jake jensen x black!reader #past charles blackwood x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #jake jensen x reader #charles blackwood x reader #ari levinson #jake jensen #charles blackwood #SoundCloud

119 notes · View notes

auty-ren · 3 years

Text

Salvation

Prologue

Pairings: The Mandalorian x Reader. Din Djarin x Reader. Mand’alor!Mando x Reader.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Canon-type violence. Mentions of death/injury. Canon divergency. Yearning. Panic and similar themes. The teensiest bit of steamy stuff.

A/N: We’re just getting started babes and holy shit I'm so excited for Mand'alor!Mando. We get to see the best of both worlds! Clan Leader Mando + Dark!Mando. Enjoy💗

Salvation Masterlist | My Masterlist

There was a vice that kept hold of your being, suspended between two planes of existence as you sat helpless to watch time pass at an agonizing pace. It filled you with dread, a heavy and pulling weight that settled in your stomach and had you glued to the floor; praying that the next thrum of violence that waged outside your door would be softer.

You hoped and pleaded every second you sat cowering in your home wouldn't be in vain, that something good would come of the war that had been building in weeks prior. The violence that crept over your village somewhat overnight, an uneasiness that settled between neighbors, and had people barricading their doors with fear.

You squeezed your palms tighter over your ears at the shrill sound of gunfire piercing through the walls of your home. The ground felt alive with footfalls and the impact fire, defeating sounds muffled between layers of durasteel were all you could hear, save for a few lost words that winded aimlessly through the air.

From your window you made out a figure that streamed across the sky; their form bulky and unnatural around the faint release of a jetpack that followed behind them.

Mandalorians had been passing through your village for as long as you could remember. Quiet and brooding warriors who often demanded very little and hardly left a trace that they had ever stepped foot in your town. You felt nothing but respect, considering that all your life you had seen the kindness that had been disguised behind layers of beskar and tall-tales of savage upbringings. As a child, you remember them speaking so softly to you, something that clashed with their demeanor and the heavy blasters that often rested on their hips.

There was never trouble, any thug that had made their way into your village was soon left scrambling at the sight of your guardians. No one ever dared to speak a harsh word in their presence, and your people were left with safe and warm homes that prospered when it felt the Galaxy was falling apart.

Mandalorians had protected you all of your life. But now you wanted more than anything for them to disappear, to fade away like the final wisps of smoke from dying embers.

You just wanted the noise to stop.

Your eyes had dried beyond the point of tears, streaks of their remnants covered your face and left your skin feeling raw and tacky as your eyes squeezed shut. You heaved a dry sob as the walls of your home shook again, tremors vibrating at the ends of your fingertips as they scraped across the floor. Your joints ache from sitting so long, from trembling in the corner of your home as the only way to seek shelter.

There is a heavy thump that breaks through the noise, something solid that lands over your head. You can hear the unmistakable sound of footfalls as they walk across your ceiling, each step like a knife that twists deeper and deeper into an already gushing wound. Your grasp for anything you can reach, the leg of the table next to you, a book that had fallen from your desk, anything to ward off whatever was making its way to your front door. You felt pathetic, sure that whoever would burst into your home in the next seconds would find joy in the way your hands shook as you held them up in front of you, your only defense.

The weight that you had been holding in your shoulders came crashing down at the sound of a masked voice coming from your door. The shadow of their legs briefly visible through the gap in the door as lights flashed behind them, gunfire ringing through the small room as they barked a message about ‘Imps’ into their commlink.

‘Imperials’ they called themselves, led by the magistrate elect to ‘relieve our town from the clutches of oppressive rulers,’ or so they put it. Suddenly your town was full of strangers, of mercenaries with nasty tendencies that left you hesitant to leave your doorstep. Your home was turned into a hellhole in a matter of weeks, warm and kind faces were replaced with snarling teeth that spit evil in your direction every time you faced them.

‘All in the name of progress.’

Destruction was the only thing that progressed in these short months, and Moff Gideon had no trouble thriving off every ounce of sacrifice he could squeeze from your town. Gideon had used any and all authority he had to wage war on the Mandalorians, the people you considered your protectors. You and nearly half of the village knew he was crazy for doing such a thing, for provoking the wrath of a people who had carved legends of war and battle into every corner of the Galaxy. All of this suffering because he was too greedy for something that was never his.

Your limbs were heavy by the time sunlight peered over the horizon, brief wisps of warmth dancing across your eyelids as you blinked awake from where you sat.

There was nothing but silence, heavy silence that was damning after a night of constant chaos. Early morning fog still lingered, your breath puffing in front of your face as you pulled yourself to stand. Your door was ripped open before you could even think, your only thought wanting to be able to witness whatever had been left in last night's wake.

The ground was firm and solid beneath your feet, your legs shaking as you stepped off the porch of your home and for the first time in forever everything was still. There was nothing but the faint shuffle of your feet across the ground, and the muffled conversations in the homes you passed by. It seemed you weren’t the only one who was curious; familar faces grew in number, their eyes wide and interested in the wreckage just as you were, everyone you met wondered what would become next. Some of them wept, holding whoever was closest as relief washed over them. Some of them celebrated, cheers echoing through streets as they basked in the absence of Imperials in their homes.

You stood, staring down an alley where the body of an Imperial laid unmoving in the dirt, their white armor smudged, cracking, and littering the wet ground. The reality of what had been happening only a few hours prior laid heavy on your chest, curling tight around your ribs until you felt there was no way to take a breath.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for your face, covering your lip as it trembled from swelling emotion and finally breaking away from the scene before you. You backtracked, fully intent on turning to run back the way you had come when you bumped into someone; their arm came up to grab yours, steadying you as their questions fell upon deaf ears. You stared at the woman before you, the brows knit in concern as she repeated her question.

“Are you alright?”

Everything was starting to bleed together, the sounds of people emerging from their homes suddenly became far too loud, and your awareness of where you stood punching you in the gut. You winced away from the woman, pulling your arm from her grip and ignoring how she called after you. Your lungs swelled with each heaving breath you took, the ground beneath you disappearing faster and faster as you tried to find your way home. Neighboring villagers found their ways into the streets, crowding alleyways and blocking your way home. You ran into a few of them, whispered apologies falling from your lips as you fought to hold yourself upright.

You needed to take a breath. You needed to slow down.

There was no distinction between the voice in your head and the concerned words of people you passed; friends, neighbors, all people you had known for most of your life.

They just want to help and part of you doesn't understand why you don't listen to them.

The ache that tears through your skull sends waves of nausea down your spine, your eyes blinking slowly at the dirt that sat just a few inches from your face. Your breath disturbed it, puffs of clay-colored soil swirling in front of you, and some of it landing on your cheeks.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbow, your entire side sore from how hard you had hit the ground. It was slow, your limbs feeling heavy and weighed even with adrenaline buzzing underneath your skin.

There was hardly any noise now, just a few whispers that danced between the crowds; the tail ends of sentences being lost as they shush themselves. You hear the scuffle of boots hitting the ground, their gate heavy and kicking up dirt in your peripheral. The dark-colored toe of someone's boot walks into your line of sight, you watch the leather come to a stop just a few inches from where your hand pressed into the mud. You followed the boot up the length of its owner’s body until you were met with the bulky visor of a beskar helmet, embers of the morning sun peeking out from behind the silver shine.

He offers his hand out to you, the ends of his gloves a bright orange that was weathered at the tips. The leather was worn but soft to the touch as his hand wrapped around yours, pulling you to your feet with just a little bit more force than necessary. Your hand shot out to brace yourself against his chest, your weight falling against the solid expanse of his cuirass as you huffed out a curse. Your head was still spinning as you clung to him, trying to find balance on your own two feet as you looked at the stranger. His armor looked new, bright, and unsoiled save for the dirt that smudged from where you had touched it; your eyes are drawn to the obnoxious color offset by the dark linen of his clothes. You mutter an apology, moving to separate yourself from him but find yourself trapped under the arm he used to steady you.

From the corner of your eye, you can see the other Mandos who are waiting on him. Their armors a deep matching blue with white accents on the face of their masks, they stood at attention as if they were waiting on their next command. You looked back at the man in front of you, who you assumed was their leader, your hand still laying on his chest and your faces even closer than they had been before.

His hand hesitated just a breath away from your face, his fingers twitching before he pushed strands of your hair out of your eyes, the leather of his glove tickling the shell of your ear. The knuckles of his fingers traced down your jaw, his touch light and curious as he studied you. His thumb stopped at the apex of your cheek and he drags the pad of it across the same spot of skin a few times, brushing off the dirt that had stuck to your face.

You could hardly breathe under his attention, your lungs burning from how long you waited in between small intakes of breath. His hand was still warm against your face, his other fingers flexing on the hold he kept around your waist. Every second dragged on as you looked at him, studied what little you could see from the layers he wore around his being. Oddly enough, it felt that he was doing the same to you, his gaze felt like a burn as it trailed along with your features, your chest feeling tight and your cheeks hot from how overwhelmed he made you.

And then he was gone.

His hold on you released and he turned back in the direction he had been walking, followed by the Mandos who had stopped and waited for him. They parted the crowds that had formed in the streets, their presence enough to leave anyone in standing back, awestruck just as you had been. You watched their forms disappear from your sight until finally they turned a corner, and you never saw them again.

It feels impossible to sleep that night.

Though it had only been a few months, the soured pit in your stomach was telling that memories of Imperials wouldn't fade so easily. There wasn't enough water to wash away the stain that their greed had left behind. Everyone seemed happy, smiling freely and feasting in celebration as the day turned to dusk, and as dusk turned to night you sat, staring at the ceiling of your home and buzzing with something you couldn't quite pin down. You studied the crack that had split that ran from one corner of your home to the next, fresh and taunting you with how you had been cowering beneath this roof only a day ago; watching the stone give way as the very foundation of your house shook. Just outside you could hear voices again; quiet, content voices that felt unfamiliar, almost out of place amongst the chaos that had been living recently.

How could it be over so quickly?

It only took a day, not even that. Your village was wiped clean, the only evidence that there had even been Imperials, were scraps that had been piled together throughout the streets. Pieces of equipment, armor, a couple of uniforms that had been discarded were all that was left of them. And most of it was being discarded without a second thought.

You had always heard stories of what Mandalorians could be capable of, but you had never believed them.

People liked to talk, to tell stories. It was easy to believe the tales of warrior races were just constructed, exaggerations of the true history of their people. But you were wrong. You hoped that you stayed wrong, that this wasn't temporary or even worse, a dream.

With every night that passed, it became easier, sleeping without worry you would wake up in hell all over again. It came over you slowly. Ease? Relief? Tranquility long enough for you to rest a few hours, then wake up to rebuild the life that had almost been taken from you. It finally felt safe. Safe to live, safe to breathe, safe to dream again.

But then all at once, it was swept out from under you and your heart plummeted when you answered the door to find two guards standing on your front steps.

“Can I help you?”

You noticed the way he ducked his head, his helmet cock-eyed when he looked at you to keep it from knocking with the frame of your doorway. He spoke very softly, almost gentle in the way he said your name; a stark contrast to the beaten, dull blue armor he wore and the heavy blaster strapped to his back. You looked over his shoulder at the female that followed him, her back was turned to you as she scanned the street in front of your home. She wasn’t as large as he was, but her armor was just as thick and a beautiful maroon color that glinted in the sun when she turned to face you.

They both waited for you to answer, turning to look at each other when you gave them a small nod, confirming that they had found who they were looking for.

“The Mand’alor has sent us for you.” The woman spoke, her tone clipped as she took a step closer. “Please. Come with us.”

Your fingernails dug into the softwood of the door frame, your skin burning from the way it dragged across the rough terrain until you released it, balling your fist at your side. You made no other attempt at moving, and neither did they.

There would be no point in arguing, you would never be able to outrun two Mandalorians, but it felt very tempting at that moment.

“The….Mand’alor?”

You had heard the name before, a few of the Mandalorians in town had spoken it in passing and while you had never asked them who or what it meant, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

They had asked for you by name, and they were too occupied to come and find you themselves.

You tried to wrack your brain for anything you could’ve done to cause this, of what could have upset someone to this point.

But then again, if they were upset, they probably would’ve just had you killed.

You looked behind you at the mess that was strewn across your room, crates of your belongings dumped in the tiny space and making it much smaller than it seemed. There was no telling where you were going, or how long you’d be gone but maybe you could take a few things with you.

“Can I have a minute please?”

You moved to shut the door, just wanting a little privacy to get a bag ready, but you were stopped when the female guard’s arm shot out, holding the frame still just a few inches before it would’ve closed.

“You don't need to take anything.” She huffed and pushed the door back open, stepping through the threshold to stand directly in front of you. “Come with us.”

You couldn't think of anything to say, not that she wanted a response from you, you just stood there staring at the two Mandalorians who crowded your doorway. She practically snarled an order at you, becoming increasingly impatient with how unresponsive you were.

“Now.”

Sometime later

“I-... I don't understand.”

He had you pinned, backed into a wall that you wished would open up and swallow you whole. Your face burned with shame but you couldn't figure out from what. From him? From how close he stood to you? From how every word that dripped from his lips was sweet? Like thick, sugary honey that became far more addictive than any spice you ever heard of; and you were glutenous in wanting more of those delicious words that he seemed so confident saying.

Shamefully so.

“Don't worry about such things.”

His thumb ran delicately over the bottom of your lip, tracing down until he held your chin in between it and his forefinger. He tipped your face to look up at him, his knuckles brushing across your throat as his hand fell to your chest. His fingers splayed across your exposed skin, his gloves are warm and soft as they made their way back up and finally wrapped around your neck.

“You're here now.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers flexed, his grip almost ghosting, as if he was afraid you'd break under any pressure.

You wished you could see his face, the blank stare of his visor did not indicate what he was thinking; though you imagined he was enjoying this from the way he touched you. He was like molten that left your skin burning in its wake, your heart fluttering as he moved over every inch that was shown to him. He held your jaw in the palm of his hand, his helmet coming only a hairbreadth away from your face; your breath puffing clouds of condensation on the smooth surface.

“You're mine.”

A/n pt2: I’ll give a sticker to whoever can guess who the female guard Mando was lol

Taglists

Salvation

@all-hallows-evie @sultrygoblin @amanda-loriannn @assaultsofthought @discofern @forever-graphically-frozen @phoenixhalliwell @sweetdarlingrose @haley7242 @dancingwiththeplanets @slep-slop @geannad @equalstrashflavoredtrash @javihoney @farrvey @winchesterxxi @imalovernotahater @clydesducktape @thisgirlcanstrut @ollovaemisc @roadakamelot @forgottenswan @barbaralaplume @imasimpforanyoneisee26 @autumnleaves1991-blog @djarinslover @chickens-r-great @spicys-stuff @dazedcowboi @driftllocked @godiscoming-areyouready @fantasticcopeaglepasta @kesskirata @nuttybeardetective

Mando

@basilbumble @wxrmh0le @jango-fettish @gallowsjoker @groovinomicon @driftllocked @courageinthemidst @hayley-the-comet @victias @freyjasamael @gondowan @nicki-mac-me @mudhornchronicles

Permanent

@on-the-razor-crest @readsalot73 @roxypeanut @talesfromtheguild @vintage-silk @ben-is-a-hoe @dartheldur @b0n-chann @dindisneydjarin @tangledlove27 @blueplaidhood @lackofhonor @holamor @ajediherowitchrunner @mandhoelorian @random-fandom-lady @aeryntheofficial @stubbychaos @promiscuoussatan @lark-cale @lilkermit14 @leather-mommy @zombiexbody @absurdthirst @nerd-without-a-cause @xjaywritesx @sappy-stars @drownedbytears @mrsparknuts @gallowsjoker @animechan6616354 @paintballkid711 @pedroepascal @dadolorian @roxu-radio @lv7867 @theocatkov @xjaywritesx @nelba @persephonehemingway @justanotherblonde23 @emzd34 @stardust-galaxies @misofirebird @roguereds @dee-rosemary @keithseabrook27 @badassbaker @rosiefridayrogersunday @engie115 @satans-tongues @tulipsun-flower @idiotonastar @hayley-the-comet

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #Mand'alor!Mando #star wars #star wars fanfiction #mand'alor au #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

779 notes · View notes

teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

Text

Worthless

Word Count: 2,026

Characters: Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Isaac Lahey (mentioned), Scott McCall (mentioned), Stiles Stilinski (mentioned), Talia Hale (mentioned), Laura Hale (mentioned), Hale!Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x SIster!Reader; Cora Hale x Sister!Reader

Warnings: small fluff, angst, death, TW: disease and heart problems

A/N: okay so yes this is very different from many things i’ve wrote but here we are i just had inspo and went for it

A/N 2: I have no shame in finishing Superman and Lois in like three days and I can’t wait till the next episode i love it so much

Masterlist

You remembered the events of that day like it was yesterday. You felt off, you felt sick and Talia insisted you stay home. She was always worried about you, mainly because you were the only human one. Both of your sisters and your brother inherited the werewolf trait, but somehow you didn't.

Talia spent a great amount of time focused on you. She kept you by her side for most of the time and grew paranoid quickly. You remember smelling something on fire, and you remember everything around you burning. You were trapped, screaming and crying out for anyone, you could hear the cries of your family.

Laura dragged you out, holding you tightly before holding Derek. The two of them had just come back from school for the day. You had burn marks on your legs and your body.

They never disappeared or faded, instead, they remained a scar. You remember all the times Laura had to rush back to Beacon Hills or rush anywhere in the world. Being the alpha always came with a price. Derek was left to raise you, not that he ever minded. Talia always raised all of you to believe that family was the most important thing in the world, and no bond could ever replace that of a family.

You found yourself standing outside the Hale house, a place where you only saw last when you were barely eight. You were now 14, starting high school. Laura’s body was buried, while you stood in front of it, looking down. There were tears in your eyes as you tried to keep yourself together.

You always tried to hide any of your feelings, you didn't want your siblings or anyone to think you were weak because you were human, but that only made things worse. You taught yourself how to lie to a werewolf and how to hide your emotions.

“What are you doing out here?” you felt Derek’s hand on your shoulder as you jumped, wiping your face.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he said.

You shook your head, before wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Have you found any lead on this?” you asked.

“Nothing in specific. But you don't need to worry about this,” Derek always tried to give you a normal life.

“I want to help,” you said.

“And I said no. Go to school.” you sighed, before nodding your head.

You sat in the car, putting your headphones on before he started driving.

---

“You can’t just go turning my friends into werewolves!” you tried to hold back your tears as you yelled at Derek.

“I know you’re upset, but-”

“I’m more than upset, Derek! Y-You always try to keep me out of all this supernatural crap, then you turn the only people that have even talked to me into werewolves!” you yelled.

“(Y/N), I told Isaac the truth about everything, and in the end, he made his decision. He was in a bad situation at home, and he wanted a change. I just helped him,” Derek kept his voice calm as you ran your fingers through your hair, frustrated.

Your heart was beating quickly, before you paused, feeling some sense of pain take over you. You felt like your heart was being ripped repeatedly from your chest as you found it hard to breathe.

“(Y/N),” Derek put his hand on your shoulder, looking at you worriedly as you tried to breathe.

“I-It hurts,” you cried shakily.

“Hold on,” he put his arms around you tightly, running to the hospital.

---

“It’s called Coronary artery disease. Our dad had it,” you looked down at the sheets of your bed, while Derek paced around your room.

“How do we heal it?” he asked.

“There’s no cure,” your eyes watered slightly before you wiped the tears away.

“Well what about medication?” he asked.

“Derek…” your voice was shaky as you looked up to him.

“Even with treatment, most people don't survive past the age of twenty. Dad was the exception,” you said.

“How come there weren't any symptoms? Things like this don't just happen,” he said.

“Sometimes there are no symptoms, and even if there were… with everything going on I would’ve been too stressed to notice,” you said.

He sighed deeply, before walking next to you, holding your hand.

“We’re going to get through this,” he said softly.

“I don't understand why you can't just give me the bite,” you sniffled.

“(Y/N),” he started.

“All of this would go away if I was a werewolf,” you pointed out.

“I don't understand what's… (Y/N) if you’re already weak, the bite can kill you,” Derek started.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from him.

“I’m not weak,” you spat.

“I didn't mean like that,” he said.

“Just go. Don’t you have to train Isaac or something? There's a full moon tonight,” you said.

“Yeah… get some rest,” he gave you a small hug, while you kept your gaze off of him. You knew he was giving you a pitiful look before he walked out of your room.

---

Your condition only got worse over the past few months. Your body was in pain anytime you tried to do anything. You always tried your hardest to keep it from Derek, but he could smell it, and so could Scott.

“(Y/N)!” Derek put his hands on either sides of your shoulders while you jumped, looking at him fearfully.

“Derek, it’s like 6 in the morning. What do you want?!” you whisper-yelled.

“(Y/N/N) just come downstairs with me. I have a surprise for you,” he said.

You sighed, before nodding, getting out of your bed.

You followed him downstairs as he held your hand. You froze, taking the last step from the stairs as you saw a woman pacing around in front of you.

“Cora,” your voice broke as her head shot up.

“Oh my god,” she ran to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as you let out a shaky breath, before burying your head into her arms.

“I missed you so much,” she said softly.

“I-I missed you too. Where have you been? How are you here?” you began to bombard her with questions as she laughed softly, walking with you to the couch.

“Okay, here’s everything…”

---

You would never admit to anyone that you were scared to die. Everyone in your life was a werewolf, except for your dad. But you barely remembered him. You were only a baby when he passed.

Supernatural heaven and hell were much different from human heaven and hell, and you didn't know what to expect. You would want your family with you more than anything but you knew that wasn't going to be possible.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you exhaled shakily, while Derek continuously yelled at you.

You sat on the couch of the loft, your arms wrapped around yourself. You were freezing, your chest was aching, it felt like burning.

You kept your eyes on the floor, your tears at bay as Derek paced around.

“I cannot stress how unbelievably stupid you were,” you held in a wince, closing your eyes.

“I just wanted to help,” your voice was low, barely half of what it was.

You, Scott, and Stiles searched for the Nemeton, unable to find it. Deaton pointed out that one of the only ways it would be able to be found was for the three of you to sacrifice yourselves in place of Chris Argent, Melissa McCall, and Noah Stilinski.

It only made your condition worse. The pain intensified.

“You could have died, (Y/N),” he shouted.

“So what if I died?!” you yelled back, taking him by surprise.

“At least I would have done something when I died! I-Instead of being useless and weak I would have had a purpose!” you let your tears fall freely as you took a deep breath, rubbing your fingers through your hair frustratedly.

“You don't understand how it feels like to be the only human in a family of werewolves. You all have these powers and you all save people and help people. Everyone treats me and looks at me like I’m made of glass, like I can't do anything and I hate it. Our family died and I was trapped. I couldn't save any of them and Laura ended up dragging my ass out of the fire. She went around the country saving people and helping people. Y-You’re an alpha, Derek. You saved people, you saved Isaac. Everyone here relies on you to save them. Cora is… she always fights and she’s strong and she doesn't have all these stupid problems that makes it hard for her to even breathe,” you stopped yourself, sitting back on the couch before you wrapped your arms around your legs, putting your head on your legs as you curled up into a ball, shaking slightly.

You cried softly, while you felt Derek sit next to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“The reason I’m crazy protective over you is because you mean the world to me and Cora and we don't know what we’d do without you. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling like this?” he asked softly.

You shrugged, before resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m tired,” your voice broke as he caressed your arm.

He kept holding you, while you laid in his lap. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you fell asleep.

---

You began to fight, and you began to care what was happening to you. You started taking your medications, and you tried to keep as safe as you could. But it always felt like you were running the last stretch of your life, and things got much worse after they started getting better.

You were now 19, Derek decided that he wanted a break from going on missions and being a wolf. You left Beacon Hills with him, the two of you going around the country and seeing wonderful things. Occasionally he would let you help with small missions.

Everything seemed to be peaceful, everything was calm. You had an amazing time with Derek, you watched him get married to Braeden. You were more than happy to have her in your life.

“Cora sends her love,” Derek handed you an envelope from your older sister, while you frowned, opening it.

She sent you a picture of her with her new girlfriend. The two of them were in South America, and you saw a small caption.

I said yes

You let out a small laugh, smiling in joy at the card.

“When’s the wedding? Did she send a postcard instead of an actual letter?” you laughed.

“Yeah, you know how she is. The wedding is in January,” your smile fell slightly, while you nodded your head.

“Hey, you’re going to make it to that wedding,” he said, putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I know. Come on, Braeden said that you guys have a date night,” you pulled on his arm as he sighed.

“If you need anything, call me, okay?” Derek said.

You nodded softly, a small smile on your face before you sat on your bed, turning on the TV.

---

“Why aren't you fighting anymore?” you heard Derek’s voice break as he held your hand tightly.

Cora stood on the other side of you, stroking your cheek.

“I’ve been fighting for years. It’s okay, Derek,” you said softly.

“No, it's not,” you heard Cora say.

“I’ve done everything I wanted to do,” you said.

And it was true. You watched both of your siblings get married, you watched them both start families. You saved people, and you knew you weren't alone. Not now and definitely not when you die. Everything would be okay.

“I don't want to lose you,” Derek said softly.

You stroked his cheek softly, feeling a tear slip down your face.

“If I’m ready to move on then you should be too,” you said.

“I love you guys,” you cried softly.

The two of them held your hands tightly, while you closed your eyes.

You let out a small exhale, letting go.

“We love you too, (Y/N),” Derek said softly.

Your body went limp, the tears falling down both of their faces as they looked down at your lifeless body.

“We love you.”

taglist:

@bellabadacadabra

@sonnydoesrandomshit

@aprilfire18

@confuscita

@asheradamsbicep

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life

@eunoia-kth

@angelgtzdar

265 notes · View notes

honestgrins · 3 years

Note

if you're doing prompts... Mates Trope?! something during s1-2 of TO where part of the reason the wolves (or maybe just the elders who are very righteous about tradition) don't trust klaus is because he wanders around with everyone but his mate (which for this purpose i guess they can sense when a wolf is mated)

Oh || Klaroline

Elijah frowned deeply. “I’m not sure which scenario would be less tolerable to the pack, you being disrespectful to the mate bond or being mated to a vampire.”

Cradling the noticeable swell of her baby bump, Hayley snorted. “I might very well be carrying the next alpha with his disrespectful ass, so they’ll get over it eventually,” she pointed out. “But the vampire thing is always going to be a problem.”

“Not if Miss Forbes stays away from New Orleans.”

That was the crux of it, truly. Whether or not he had a mate, there was precious little Klaus could do about it in the eyes of the pack while she gave his city a wide berth. Honestly, her absence would likely make it all easier for them to swallow - perhaps to forget entirely with a few generations of distance. The thought left a hollow feeling in his chest, one far more noticeable since learning of his…predicament.

Learning he was to be a father after a millennium of running from the only one he’d ever known had been difficult enough. He’d ingratiated himself into the fabric of New Orleans in order to situate it to his needs, even softening the wolf pack to the idea of his leadership outside of the traditional hierarchy - at least, until he returned from Mystic Falls with a freshly established mate bond he apparently left behind.

A mate bond he could only imagine began with a defiant kiss and a slow-rising smile as bright as a sunlit afternoon.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know a thing about it until Hayley broke the news as to why the pack had turned against him. It was small comfort to know her use as a direct line in the camp, but he needed more. He knew so little about life as a wolf, that having been denied him for so long. “How can they know that I’ve found my mate?” Suspicion was a long-earned habit, and nothing was adding up. “How can they sense it here when I had no idea with her right in my arms?”

With a delicate cough, Elijah leaned forward to take some of his focus off Hayley. “I understand this is a difficult revelation, and there’s much to be learned about the mate phenomenon. However, I feel there’s a decided advantage in ensuring Miss Forbes is a non-factor in the politics of the city.”

His hand was around his brother’s throat before he could consciously think to do it, his hybrid strength more than enough to pin Elijah to the wall. “Stop. Talking.”

“Klaus.” Hayley’s voice was shaking, and her hands now covered her belly in a protective gesture. “You feel it now, don’t you? The need to protect her above all else?” She stood slowly, careful not to spook him further. “Even over your own brother?”

With excruciating control, he loosened his grip, finger by finger. “Alright,” he breathed once he could manage it past the sudden onslaught of rage. “I’m listening.”

“Caroline, you’re up!”

For at least the third time that afternoon, Caroline reminded herself there were too many witnesses at the Fall Festival to eat her sorority sisters. "I'm all for scamming money out of sleaze bags in the name of philanthropy, but I still think there are better ways to go about it than a kissing booth."

Amber just scoffed. "Suck it up, pledge, we all had to pay our dues," she said, divesting herself of the Gamma blue sash that said Kiss me! and handing it to Caroline. "If it helps, there's a total hottie in line. I almost extended my shift to get a chance at him."

Rolling her eyes, she forced a pageant smile as she slipped the sash over her head. "Thanks for your sacrifice."

"Funny," a familiar voice noted behind her. "You never thanked me for any of the sacrifices I made."

With a deep breath, she tried to make herself count to ten before turning. Call it personal growth that she made it to six when her glare fell on Klaus waiting at the booth. "I'm sorry, are we including the time you literally tried to sacrifice me? Because I'm so not in the mood to deal with you today, in case you can't tell."

"Oh my god, Caroline!" Amber looked mildly scared, but she took a step in front of her anyway, a stance she recognized from other sisters at any number of frat parties when a creep made himself known. "Who is this guy? Do I need to call security?"

She glanced back to Klaus, who remained uncharacteristically quiet as she decided what to do. Reluctantly, she met Amber's eyes with widened pupils. "Everything is fine, but someone needs to cover my shift. You never saw him, and I went home sick." When Amber obediently repeated her words, she also returned the sash. "Thanks!" she called out, quick as she was to flash away from the crowd, knowing he would follow.

Her dorm wasn't exactly a safe bet, given Elena and Damon's constant sexiling, and she didn't want to risk Bonnie catching them on campus. The only place she could think of was the wooded trail behind the chemistry building, where she found a quiet bench for them to sit. Well, for him to sit and for her to pace in front of. "We had a deal, Klaus. You weren't supposed to come back."

"To Mystic Falls," he clarified, his hands pressed together between his knees. At her decided frown, he allowed himself a sigh of discomfort. "Unfortunately, I have good reason to violate the spirit of our agreement."

She crossed her arms and waited.

He sighed again. "Sweetheart-"

"Just rip the band-aid off, Klaus!"

"I need you to accompany me back to New Orleans, and I need you to trust me enough to keep you safe," he said. With eyes intent on hers, his energy seemed barely contained, like he wanted nothing more than to grab her and go. "I would like you to do so freely. And quickly."

Her arms tightened, and she sank onto her jutted hip as she took in his plaintive request. "Points for being polite, I guess, but I doubt you would be if I were in any real danger. What I don't know is if this is you being overly cautious or just being a dick."

Rubbing two fingers at his temple, there was an ancient exhaustion in his face. "Neither of us can truly know what this is," he muttered to himself more than anything. He spoke up with more resolve. "Elijah wanted to hide you away in one of our many properties throughout the world, and Rebekah suggested a less involved plan that offered you an anonymous scholarship across the country - anything to keep you far away from me."

"Why are your siblings trying to get rid of me?" she demanded. "I didn't even do anything."

He shifted on his feet, and he couldn't quite meet her eyes. If he weren't Klaus Mikaelson, she might think he were embarrassed. "Your absence in New Orleans has been noted."

Confused, she pressed her hands to her face. "I seriously doubt that, since I've never been there. The only people I know in New Orleans is your family, and you've already established they don't want me there."

His ears flushed red, and then she knew he was embarrassed. "Hayley has found a home with nearby pack," he explained with a wince, "a pack that could prove necessary to the balance of the city. However, they are disinclined to negotiate with me at the moment."

"Gee, I wonder why. How many of them have you killed so far?"

Klaus gave a ferocious glare. "None, actually. But perhaps you missed the fact that a wolf with a known grudge against you is well placed to inform any number of enemies of your name and location."

The scoff burst out of her without permission, an absolute confidence emboldening her. "Like you'd let that happen."

Then he took a step closer, and that confidence withered into a new understanding - one that scared her. His voice lowered, soft in its menace. "Why do you think I'm here, Caroline?"

She swallowed, the tension unbearably thick between them. "I'm no one," she said, her voice shaky as she fought for the calm she felt only moments before. "Even if they could use me against you-"

"They can," he answered, deadly serious. "And they will. Maybe not now, but someday." He watched her closely; for what, she didn't know. His whole face softened whenever he found whatever he was looking for. "I'm only just beginning to understand myself," he admitted. "But you're far from no one, and I need to establish that you're firmly under my protection."

"Why?" He never really answered her questions, Caroline realized. This one, though... This, she needed to know. "Why me?"

His eyes seemed to burn with gold, and she held her breath as he stared. "Wolves know when another has found their mate, and this pack has judged my character unfit for abandoning mine."

If she weren't a vampire, she would swear her legs might collapse beneath her. As it was, her head felt suddenly light. Her mouth fell open, and she finally remembered to breathe. When she exhaled, it escaped as a sigh. "Oh."

"Yes, oh."

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #listen #i tried about six versions of this fic and they all kept getting worse #i'm sorry this is the best i can do but #i hope you like it!#to rely on the kindness of strangers #fic: oh

144 notes · View notes

diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

It Had to be Witches

Dean and Sam are on a hunt at Rowena’s request. When Sam is out of commission, Dean has to work with you.

Warnings: Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) male oral receiving, fingering, mention’s of witchcraft, brief mentions of ritual style murders, brief mention of animal sacrifice, Dean is a sad boy.

Word count: 3567

All written and proofread (poorly) by me. All mistakes are my own. Please don’t copy or repost my work. Likes are great and I’ll love you forever if you repost and comment. Thanks for reading.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam and Dr. Philips examined each of the women’s bodies. Carved into their limbs were runes consistent with the ones Rowena described. She said she was sending an expert who lived in the area but the boys hadn’t made contact yet.

“The other agent who was just here asked the same questions. Don’t you guys talk to each other?” Dr. Philips covered the bodies. Some of the women he knew personally.

“Different departments. You said he was just here? How long ago?”

“She. Her name is Diana Luna. She’s down at the evidence locker. All the women had the same necklace. She went to check it out.”

Sam thanked the doctor and set off to find you. First he called Dean. “Looks like Rowena’s story checks out. Her expert was just here. The bodies were marked with runes and all of their tongues cut out. And, get this, they all had the same necklace. Maybe a coven?”

“Of course. Of course it’s witches, Sam. Look, don’t go far. I’m on my way.” Sam was sitting on a bus bench reading coroner's reports when you approached him. Due to the nature of the case, Rowena insisted the elder Winchester carry out the task at hand. “Use Sam as bait.” she instructed.

“Agent Cornell? I’m agent Luna from the Lansing office.” You extended your hand. “Director Macleod sent me.”

“Yeah, I bet she did. Bring me up to speed.”

“Sure. I’ve got what you’re looking for right here.” You blew a very potent powder in his face knocking him out. You put the lankier Winchester into your truck and sped back to your house. Getting his dead weight up the stairs was a task but you did it. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

Dean searched the entire town square for Sam with no luck. He tried his phone again and it was going directly to voicemail. Sam could hold his own against any witch but Dean was still worried. As he unlocked the door to the Impala, he heard you call his name over his shoulder and turned his head to see who was speaking. You blew the dream dust into his face rendering him unconscious.

He was heavier than he looked. You shoved him into the back seat and pried the keys from his hand. Baby growled angrily when she started but you had her purring for you in no time. You drove him back to your house and dragged him inside where you intended to tie him up. Rowena coached you on all their tricks. You took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and divested him if anything sharp. With his wrists and ankles bound in a pretty decent slip knot you splashed his face with water to wake him.

“Morning, handsome.” he smirked as you wiped his face.

“Big mistake, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re the one we’re looking for.”

“Pretty and dumb. Rowena was right and you would be guessing wrong. Her name is Teresa Wilson. She came seeking asylum with our coven a few months ago. Said her whole order was obliterated. Turns out, she wasn’t exactly who she said she was.”

His face split into a cocky grin, “They never are. What do you want with me?”

“You need to help me find her. Rowena gave me a locator spell. When I cast the spell, I’ll need your fancy bullets. Problem is…”

He laughed heartily, “Problem is you can’t touch ‘em, am I right, sweetheart?”

“You would be correct.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

You took a step back just out of his reach just in case, “If you help me I’ll let your brother live.”

He strained against the ropes veins bulging in his forearms. “If you touch one hair on his head I’ll rip you apart myself. You hear me, witch?”

Your nails dug sharp into the meat of his cheeks so he would look at you. “Relax, baby. Your brother is safe. He’s asleep upstairs dreaming of puppies and rainbows as we speak. But if you don’t help me, he’ll never wake up. And, Dean, when I kill someone, it sticks. No resurrections for Sammy this time.”

You’ve never seen a human man snarl before. It was pretty cute. Rowena warned you not to be mesmerized by his sweet face and his Disney Princess eyes but you couldn’t help it. The man looked like he would, in fact, rip you apart. And, Hecate help you, you wished he would. You traced a finger along his sharp stubble covered jaw. His eyes turned up to look into yours, throwing daggers at you. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re angry?”

“All the time. Get to the spell so I can take my brother out of here.” he growled.

“It’s not time. If I untie you, are you gonna be a good boy or do I have to hit you with my knock out dust again?” You couldn’t take your eyes off of his perfect lips smiling at you.

“Sure, mommy, I’ll be a real good boy.”

You knelt in front of him and parted his knees slightly to undo the first knot. “Such a smart ass.” He growled low in his throat when you peered at him through your lashes. His dick grew painfully hard against his jeans as you slid your hand up his legs to maintain balance. Of course you noticed though he tried to squeeze his thighs together to hide his arousal. “Do you like me like this, Dean?”

Of course he did. You were just his type. A little bratty but you had a good heart. Rowena told them about you. The little warrior for the Grand Council. They constantly sent you to do their dirty work and you did so without question like a good soldier. No wonder Rowena paired the two of you. You were the female version of him. “Like what?” His voice was low and dripping with need.

“On my knees for you. Looks like you do.” You winked at him but he looked away embarrassed.

It had been a long time since he felt a woman wrapped hot around him. Everything in him wanted to follow your siren song and happily crash. He couldn’t do it. This story always ended bloody. “You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He peered down at the bulge in his pants. So did you. Your core heated at the thought.

“Is that a dare or a double dare?.” He spread his legs and licked his lips inviting you to take what you wanted. You shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Well in any case, I made you dinner. Pot roast, potatoes, peas and carrots. Eat if you want.”

It did smell amazing. His stomach growled remembering that all he had was coffee this morning. The living room and kitchen were well lit and warm. He felt at peace in this place. More so than the bunker where it could sometimes feel clinical and cold. “You got a pretty nice place here. You all alone?”

A sly smile played on your lips, “Just me.” You sat the plate down in front of him with a cold beer and a bottle opener. The oven timer dinged and, when you opened the door, the aroma of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air.

“That pie?” He sounded choked up.

“Apple. I have an orchard in the back. Rowena filled me in on how to keep you happy.” You sit it on the windowsill to cool while you ate. “I can’t have you bashing me over the head and running off before we kill this bitch.”

He shoveled a fork full of potatoes and gravy into his mouth humming in appreciation. “Why me? You had Sam here. He’s much better at this witch stuff than I am. Why drag me out here?”

“You’re more reliable when making difficult decisions. You’re what I need. Another beer?” He nodded breathing in the soft floral scent that wafted off of your skin as you moved.

You didn’t offer any further information and Dean thought that was probably for the best. If he got in his head about the situation he would lose his nerve and that can’t happen. That’s how people die. As of late, Sam has had a lot on his mind. Dean would have to shoulder this burden. At least Sammy was getting some rest.

The two of you shared a comfortable silence only marred by silverware hitting ceramic. “Well that was delicious. Thank you….umm…I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t give it to you. I’m Y/N. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me sweetheart. Pie?”

Dean's heart beat hard in his chest at the thought of calling you sweetheart “Maybe a little. So when do we do this thing?”

“Eat your pie then meet me outside. I have to prepare.” You slipped out the back door down a dimly lit path to your cauldron. You threw in the mandrake and tobacco. Last was the chicken that you had to slaughter. You grabbed a hen from her coop and stabbed her with your athame. It made a terrible sound which sent Dean flying through the back door ready to fight.

“What the hell was that?”

“Chicken.” You allowed the rest of its blood to drain and discarded the carcass. “periisti. lates. Ego te quaero. I vestrum adprehendet vos.” You chanted over and over until a glowing beacon appeared. “We have to follow it.” The orb circled the two of you then floated towards the Impala. You retrieved his keys from your pocket and started off for the car.

“Whoa whoa whoa. What are you doing?”

“Following the orb.” He grabbed your arm as you started to slide into the driver’s seat.

“No one drives my baby but me. You sit shotgun.” He impatiently waited for you to scoot over. When you reached for the radio he slapped your hand away. “Are you serious?!”

“What? There were other decades besides the 70’s.” He bit his lip and flared his nostrils letting out an unsettling growl. “Driver picks the music.”

“You are a child. Just drive. The spell won’t last forever” you huffed.

“So, just you huh? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” You didn’t answer keeping your eyes trained on the orb. “Yeah me neither. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”

“My god. Can you keep it in your pants until we’re done? It took a left!”

He sped up taking off after it, “I see it. So that’s not a no.” That was all the invitation he needed. The truth was you would have given it up the moment those green eyes stared into your soul.

“It’s not a no. Let’s focus.”

Baby ate up miles of dirt road before reaching the highway. A couple of miles ahead the orb sped for an exit into town. You were led to the motel where the boys were staying. The door to their room was wide open and there Teresa stood bathed in the light of the orb. You bid it a job well done and sent it on its way.

Teresa, caught off guard, quickly muttered a spell pinning Dean to the wall, sending the gun skittering away. You faced each other down while Dean struggled. “She’s a kid!” he groaned in pain.

“I’m nineteen thank you. You don’t have to do this Y/N. Come on. We’re sisters. We share the same DNA. Let’s take them on together.” Tears welled in your eyes. You may have been blood but you weren’t sisters. She grew up far out of the Grand Council’s reach while you were their trained lap dog.

“Only half little sister. You’re hopped up on enough stolen magic to power the entire city. The Grand Council sent me to take you down. Adiuro te in nomine Hecate. Adiuro te in nomine Dianae. Tuae vires cum luna decrescant.” you chanted. She fought back but the binding spell was powerful. She didn’t have enough magic to hold Dean and fight you so she let him go. When he regained composure, he dove for the gun.

Without warning, Teresa gained the upper hand. She held out her arm and used all of her might to pull you towards her. Blood stained tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breath. With every last ounce of strength you had you doubled down on the binding spell long enough to hold her so that Dean could put her down. The blast of the shot filled the small motel room filling your ears with a high pitched whining. You collapsed onto the floor where Dean scooped you into his arms.

“Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Stay with me. Shit.” He carried you to the car and gingerly set you down next to him. The drive back to your house felt long. When he got you inside he placed you on the couch and called Rowena.

“Is it done then?” she asked in her thick Scottish brogue.

“Yeah but your girl’s unconscious. She’s breathing but she used a lot of magic. A lot. I don’t think you’ll be calling on her anytime soon.”

“Keep her warm, Dean. I’ll be there soon.” The line went dead. He sat on the floor in front of you and brushed your hair from your eyes.

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up. We were supposed to grab that drink, remember?” He pressed his lips to your temple lingering there for a moment when he heard Rowena’s laugh trill behind him.

“I should add matchmaker to my long list of talents. Out of the way, Dean. I’ll get your girl fixed right up.” She patted his hand and pushed him aside.

His face flushes hot burning all the way to his ears. ”She’s not my girl.”

“Of course. Now, what seems to be the trouble, dear?” She placed her hands on your head. Her eyes glowed as she spoke over you. Your lashes began to flutter and you woke up. “There she is. Good as new.” You and Dean exchanged a look. “That appears to be my cue to go check on Samuel.”

“Thank you, Rowena.” your voice was hoarse barely above a whisper.

“Not at all, dear.”

Dean pulled you into his lap rocking you gently, “You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”

“I had to stop her. She hurt too many people.” You felt guilty for ending her but even guiltier for letting her go as far as she did. Guiltier still for not pushing harder to be in her life. “It was my fault.”

“Hey, no it wasn’t. What? You think you should have been a better big sister? You didn’t lead her down this path, Y/N.” You rested your head on his shoulder “All these years and all the stupid fucked up shit Sam and I did, I blamed myself. I took on that burden. Alone. It’s a lonely awful place to be. I’m begging don’t do that to yourself.” He held your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. He wanted to kiss you. You would have let him if he leaned in. Instead he brought you back down to his chest just to hold you. He saw so much of himself in you. You were headstrong and self righteous but your intentions were altruistic.

You melted into his arms so lost in him that you didn’t hear Sam and Rowena slip out. Dean offered his brother only a small nod to let him know you were ok. He had several texts from Eileen anyway. Happy to see his brother didn’t have to spend another night alone, he went back to the bunker.

You sat in silence for a while when you started yawning. “Shit. What time is it?”

“After midnight. I should get outta here.” You untangled yourself from his grasp but didn’t stand. His hands stayed respectfully at the small of your back. You locked eyes with him. Your core tingled as he brushed errant hair from your forehead.

“Or you could stay. We haven’t had our drink yet. Though, you don’t need to get me drunk, handsome.” You kissed his jaw and down his neck working your way to his collarbone. A soft moan escaped his lips when you nipped at his neck. “I mean you enjoyed me on my knees and all.”

“As pretty as you looked,” his voice was low and gravelly, “And, I mean you looked gorgeous. We really shouldn’t.”

You genuinely pouted your lips backing off of your ministrations, “Why not? I want to. And you clearly want to. You’re a fucking legend, Dean. Show me just how legendary you are.”

He arched a brow at you and smirked in the way that only Dean Winchester does. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” Finally his lips were on yours. The force of his kiss took your breath away. It wasn’t predatory or greedy. It was slow and sensuous bordering on hunger. His whole body was hungry for you. Dean Winchester was hungry constantly looking for something to fill the hole inside him. For the moment, that was you. He felt like he was floating and was suddenly very warm. If he stopped kissing you he knew he would just stop breathing. He couldn’t bare the thought.

“What are you doing to me?” His chest heaved. “I feel like I’m on fire.” Surely this must be a spell or enchantment. He pulled you back in for more but this time his hands strayed from your back. They traveled to your hips then under the hem of your shirt to feel your flesh warm against him. He had to feel you. To be inside of you. Deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans. Without breaking the kiss he stroked your clothed core working up a rhythm that flooded you with arousal.

“Touch me, Dean. Please” you cried. Pushing your panties aside his fingers explored your dripping pussy. His pace is maddening. Your hips snapped fucking back hard. “Fuck, Dean. So good. I need your cock. Want you to split ne open.”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Princess. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.” And so you gushed around him moaning like a witch on fire. When your heart slowed to a normal rhythm you stripped naked. Before he could get undressed he took a moment to kiss and touch every inch of you. If this was only for tonight he wanted to savor you. “God you’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” You pulled him up and undressed him, never once breaking eye contact. His cock was red and weeping just aching to be touched.

On your knees in front of him you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. To Dean, you were the most stunning creature to exist. You swirled your tongue around the head while you hollowed your cheeks sucking him in deeper still.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Fuck that feels good.” His hands grasped the back of your head keeping you steady while he fucked your face. It started feeling too good like he would blow his load in your mouth. He had to feel your sweet cunt. “Let me feel you, baby. Fuck I need you.” You pulled off with a pop and climed into his lap. Both of you whimpered when you sank onto his length. The stretch was exquisite. Your pussy held him so tight. You ground your clit over his pubic bone while he fucked into you with a brutal pace. “You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Come for me, baby. I need it.” Your twat fluttered around him, milking him for all he was worth. You kissed once more fighting to hang on to the last tendrils of tenderness and warmth that you could.

“Stay. Please. Just for tonight” you whispered.

He tightened his grip on you. “Of course, sweetheart. All night.”

He hated to leave you but the sun rose like a beacon calling him away. If he didn’t leave then, he wouldn’t have ever left. Last time he stuck around and fell in love, he had to learn the hard way that he could never have this. Maybe he would call you the next time he swung through town. Maybe you’d spit in his face for bailing. He brushed the hair off your forehead and kissed your temple. “Bye, sweetheart.”

You woke when you heard the Impala roaring to life in your driveway. He left a square of paper with a phone number scrawled in pencil “I’ll always answer. -DW” You put on your robe, went down to your cauldron and threw it in with a few bundles of sage and some witch hazel to sever any feelings. On the next full moon, you’d do a cord cutting to make sure it sticks.

“See you around, handsome.” In his eleven hour drive back to the bunker, any feelings that you have would slowly fade. The two of you would go back to being too afraid to feel and far too afraid to fall in love. Dean wouldn’t hear from you again. He wouldn’t really remember where you lived. But, every time he drove through Michigan, he’d feel a twinge in his chest. And, no matter how many rituals you did, you’d feel him too.

#sam and dean #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #Dean Winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x witch reader

119 notes · View notes