#Or “hidden bar” as they are usually called in my city

[ludoka]

They have given me information that there is a Bar called "Dr. Jekyll" in my city. Now I feel obliged to go 😂😂

I read the menu and there are drinks with the names of the chapters of the novel or part of the name of the novel:

(Why does "Un Extraño Caso" (A Strange Case) have gummy bears??? I don't know but I love it and I'm going to try it.)

There is food with the names of the characters:

(The Lanyon burger looks interesting. And yes, the "Utterson" burger is the standard burger.😂)

They also told me that it has an outdoor area where there is a stage. That area of ​​the bar is called "Mr. Hyde" and is usually only available at happy hour in my city.

Loved the dedication they put into the place. I also read very good comments about the menu in general and the location. So I know where to drag my friends next time we go out 🤣

[undressrehearsal]

right back where we started

summary: ellie is on tour as the opener for a popular band. she begrudgingly passes through the hometown that she had sworn she would never see again and runs into the one good thing she left behind.

tags: some sad stuff, ellie has daddy issues, mentions of alcohol, modern au, not rockstar ellie but that same kinda genre???, no smut in this one sorry this is all setting the scene, this is another shorter one 3.6k words

a/n: listen. I'm gonna level with yall. life's been fucking insane. it's been what 3 months since I posted something?? and it's because 1. my fiancée and I are buying a house 2. and planning a wedding 3. I work 45 hour weeks (at a job I hate so much omg) 4. I'm writing a book and 5. I'm preparing for a p major surgery (I go on tuesday)

so yeah, life's been insane. but I missed writing fics. I'm writing my book so I never stopped writing but writing a lil fun fic just hits different yk?

anyway enjoy and look forward to a few (I'm thinking 3?) parts of this

love yall. reply and lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list. also I'm posting this on my phone so the formatting might be fucked lmk

part 1

Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had been in this city.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could remember exactly the last time she had been in this city. She had watched it disappear in her mirror when she had driven her bike west three years ago in search of the horizon. She had hoped she would find something more once she got there - more than the dingy dorm room she had loosely called home and the classes that had made her eyes glaze over; something more than playing at the bar’s open mic nights, her guitar hard to hear over the noisy din of drunk students and drunker professors; something more than a future that had been planned for her by the time she was in high school.

Her dad had kicked her out after she dropped out, of course, but that was fine. She had planned to leave that night anyway; she had kept a packed bag hidden underneath her bed for months. She hadn’t seen him in three years, either, and she planned to keep it that way.

But when she woke up and saw the city outside the bus window, silhouetted against the rising sun, something in her chest rose to her throat and refused to be swallowed back down.

She hadn’t missed it - but as she looked down at her shaking hands, Ellie figured her body must not have gotten that memo.

The band she was traveling with were still sleeping; she could hear the singer snoring in her bunk, could see the bassist's leg sticking out into the aisle. She had never been a morning bird - back at her shitbox apartment, you'd rarely catch her up before noon - but something about being stuck on a bus for days made her restless. It was her first time touring - after three years of playing at open mics and taking small jobs singing at the senior center - and she wasn't used to feeling her own bed constantly shifting beneath her.

Which is how she always ended up pacing the length of the bus, tapping her fingers against her thighs as the confined world around her slept, waiting desperately for the driver to pull off to whatever venue they had booked. She wasn't sure what the band did before their shows in the evenings, but she didn't stick around long enough to ask. Maybe it was rude, but she couldn't force herself to hang out with the band who only chose her because their usual opener had “flaked” on them - which was how they described it when the opener couldn't travel with them for several months after their mother had just died.

So, yeah, Ellie couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it when she rushed off the bus as soon as it parked, not even sticking around to let the band know where she was going. They wouldn't care either way. Hell, they were probably so hungover they wouldn't wake up until their show started in several hours.

The driver - his name was Zachary (never Zach) and he was the only one who paid her any mind - helped Ellie hoist her bike down from the rack on the back of the bus. The band had teased her about bringing it, bitching about how it showed she didn't want to hang out with them. She had been tempted to tell them they were right, but she couldn't really risk losing the first real gig she’d gotten. She lifted the seat and dug her helmet out, waving to Zachary as he disappeared back into the bus to get his own well-deserved rest.

The purr of the bike was a familiar comfort beneath her. Lowering the visor of her helmet to block out the sun, she squinted at the streets sprawled before her. She realized, with dizzying familiarity, that she was in the next neighborhood over from her old apartment. Hell, she had watched a few shows at the venue she was playing at - something in her stomach clenched.

Fuck, she needed coffee.

With the wind cold against her bare arms, Ellie let the world fly by, the city waking up around her. Her phone remained snuggly in her bag; she didn't need directions here, the familiar streets leading her down well-worn paths, winding all the way back to a life that was no longer hers.

It was muscle memory that led her back to the coffee shop she had frequented as a student. She looked up at it, a glow around its worn brick from the rising sun, and something tightened in her chest. They had replaced the patio chairs - the old ones had been practically falling apart three years ago - but otherwise it hadn't changed.

Ellie cursed under her breath, swallowing around the foreign lump in her throat, and climbed off her bike. When she took the steps two at a time, it felt like somebody else had taken the wheel. It was a familiar stranger that opened the door.

The smell hit her first. They say that scent has the strongest tie to memory, and the smell of burnt coffee beans hit her like a punch. There had always been a sweetness underneath it, something she had never been able to place but thought might be honey? When she stepped up to the counter, she could even smell the milk they were steaming.

The barista - a young girl with faded pink hair tied up into space buns - looked up from her phone and said, in a voice teetering on the edge between cheerful and bored, “How’s it going?”

Ellie took her in briefly, noting the brown corduroy overalls and the star-shaped nose ring, and was comforted knowing that this place was just as queer as she had left it. She would bet money on the fact that if she peeked over the counter, this girl would be wearing beat up Docs. She was young enough to be a student - probably an English major, if she had to guess.

She always ordered the same thing - iced mocha with oat milk. She had never understood why her dad drank his coffee black.

The barista - her tag said Dianna She/Her/Hers - eyed her as she rang Ellie up, brows quirked. When she smiled, dimples caved her cheeks. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a student?”

Ellie fought the urge to groan - this girl was just trying to be friendly (and was probably trying to decide if Ellie’s flannel meant she was gay or was just a bad fashion choice), but the last thing she wanted to do after failing to sleep on a bus and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn was to make small talk.

Still, she smiled and said, “I used to be.”

She paid and stuffed the remainder of her cash into the tip jar. When Dianna thanked her, her cheeks were as pink as her hair. Ellie could feel her eyes lingering on her as she walked away, nodding awkwardly in thanks.

This place really hadn’t changed in three years. The coffee shop had a reputation of students writing all along the walls - over a decade ago, they had simply stopped trying to paint over it, so the walls were littered in signatures and drawings and claims of call this number for a good time. Scattered poetry was written along the edges of the windows, an incredibly detailed Sharpie drawing of a cat peeking over the top of the doorway. When she searched for it, she found that her own scrawled handwriting was still there, small letters where nobody would think to look, right underneath the thermostat: Find me where the sun sets east. Don’t forget me.

She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her and stepped away. Her eyes stung from sleep deprivation and nothing more.

Ellie scanned the room and found that, to her annoyance, nearly every table was taken. Students huddled around notebooks and laptops, engrossed in their work or else on Netflix to avoid studying. Professors blinked wearily, clutching their own cups of coffee as though they were lifelines holding them to this realm. Ellie could see the spot she had frequented herself - a booth tucked by the window, where she could write her songs in a dingy notebook without anyone looking over her shoulder.

Now, there was a guy with his cheek pressed to the cold surface, snoring lightly.

Ellie jumped when Dianna called her name, holding out a cup so filled with coffee that it trickled over the side and down the glass. Ellie took it gingerly, holding it in careful fingers to not spill any more on the countertop.

Dianna held onto the cup for several seconds longer than necessary, her fingers - cold from the glass - lingering on Ellie's. When a crooked smile pulled at her lips, her brown eyes sparkled. There was a teasing tilt to her voice when she said, “I hope to see you around, Ellie.”

Ellie gave her what she hoped was a friendly smile - judging by the way Dianna’s cheeks bloomed pink, she must have succeeded - before turning away. She almost felt guilty for the relief she felt when she found there was no phone number left on her glass this time. She was never sure whether it was nicer to ghost somebody or to send a gentle rejection through text, and she did not have the energy for that decision.

She turned, searching for an empty seat to slouch in and try not to fall asleep into her coffee, when her eyes found you.

You hadn’t changed a bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. You had changed - anybody would in three years. You had changed your hair, and now you dressed differently than she remembered - you used to bitch so much about how you couldn’t dress how you wanted, and now, looking at you three years later, she was happy to see that you were finally dressing like all those pictures you had saved in your little Pinterest folder of “outfit inspo.”

Ellie could see the mark of three whole years, but truthfully, you hadn’t changed. You were slouched over a laptop, leaning way too close to the screen, and you still had that pinch between your brows when you concentrated, the one that she used to run her thumb over; she could still feel how soft your skin was beneath her fingers.

She should have ignored you - she should have gone to slump in a corner of the coffee shop like she had planned, trying not to fall asleep into her cup and pretending to not notice you even as her eyes kept cutting across the cafe to find you again. She should have pushed the memories away just like she had pushed away all of the other memories associated with this city - hell, she should have never come back to this city in the first place. There were too many memories here that she had spent three years, a thousand miles, and an ocean of whiskey running away from.

And yet Ellie found her feet carrying her over to your table of their own volition. She walked the tightrope between who she is and who she once was, chasing a memory of the only good thing she left behind.

You didn’t look up at her as she approached. You kept your head bowed over your laptop, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. There was no reason for you to look up - Ellie could have been any nameless stranger coming to bother you when you were clearly just trying to work.

But Ellie had never been good at leaving well enough alone. Which is why she hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and tapping lightly on your shoulder. She had to bite back a laugh when you jumped, pulling your headphones from your ears and swiveling around to look up at her.

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t do an embarrassing acrobatic jump when you met her eyes. And she had always been a terrible liar.

“Hey,” Ellie said, trying her damnedest to keep her voice steady; she only somewhat succeeded. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice when she said, “Remember me?”

Satisfaction bloomed warm in her stomach when your eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. Truthfully, she must’ve looked like shit; she had had to take a disturbingly brief shower at the last rest stop - the water apparently didn’t get any warmer than antarctic - and she hadn’t looked in a mirror for a few days. She had forgotten to pack her brush, so her hair must have been standing up at odd angles. And God knew what the lack of sleep was doing to the ever-growing shadows under her eyes.

But none of this stopped you from running your eyes down her body, cheeks pink when you finally looked up to meet her eyes again. And Ellie couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across her face, her own cheeks growing warm. It wasn’t intentional when her voice dropped another octave, nearly a murmur when she said, mostly to herself, “Yeah, you remember me.”

“Holy shit, Ellie?” You jumped to your feet, a smile pulling at your lips as you gripped her arm. The familiar shine in your eyes did something funny to her stomach that she was way too stubborn to name. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was just, uh- just passing through town,” she found herself saying, rubbing at the back of her neck. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but explaining to you the actual reason she finally came back to this hell-hole town suddenly seemed daunting. “Wanted to check out some old haunts, I guess.”

And then you just… looked at her, for several long moments - long enough to make Ellie squirm. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for something that she had buried three years ago.

You jumped, and whatever spell that was floating between you broke when your phone buzzed from where it still sat on the table. You scooped it up and flashed an apologetic smile to the glaring student a few seats away. Swiping at the screen, you cursed under your breath:

“Fuck, I have to get to class.” You looked back up at her again, a question behind your eyes, and Ellie had never wished so hard that she could read minds. You hesitated for only a moment before saying, words rushed, “Do you want to walk with me?” Before Ellie could respond, you continued, picking up your cup and fiddling with the straw, “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you and I want to catch up. But you’re probably busy, so you don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” she cut you off, trying to smother the smile that pulled at her pink cheeks. She failed drastically when you smiled back at her.

After asking for a to-go cup from Dianna - thankfully no number written on the plastic cup either, despite the way the barista eyed Ellie as she left - she followed you out the door and back into the blinding morning sun. The mid-October air bit at her cheeks, creeping under her flannel; the cold coffee in her hand made her fingers sting, but you were already walking away, so she grit her teeth and followed.

And it was like you both just fell back into place, aligning with each other as though that empty space had never existed. You were working towards your graduate degree, Ellie discovered, and were working as a TA to get through; the class you were heading to was the dreaded public speaking class that you taught around your own curriculum. You laughed as you talked about some ridiculous speech a student had recently presented, and Ellie had forgotten just how much she liked the sound until it was burying behind her ribs again.

Ellie didn't tell you exactly why she had come back. When she’d left, you had known she was chasing a dream - it was the main reason she had presented when she broke up with you. The idea of long distance was too hard - too complicated - and Ellie didn’t want anything tying her to this town.

Even so, her body still wanted to fall into old habits. She told you about her roommate and how, when Ellie had been up too late writing a new song or her roommate had had a late shift at the hospital, they would play truth or dare until they were too drunk to stay awake, and her fingers brushed against yours, muscle memory making her reach for you. Ellie told you how she had visited her sister, Sarah, while passing through Houston, and she wanted so badly to lace your fingers together. She wanted to wrap her arm around your waist - hell, she even wanted to grab your ass right where everyone could see, just like she used to. She tucked her free hand in her pocket.

“You still haven’t told me why you came back,” you said, coming to a stop in front of the Communications building - it was just as tall and ominous as Ellie remembered. Her stomach lurched at the site, remembering all the speeches she had to make in her own classes. She supposed Public Speaking wasn’t a useless class now, considering she didn't stutter when she had to speak in front of an audience now.

Ellie shrugged, dropping her cup into a trashcan without looking at you. “Like I said, I’m just passing through-”

“Bullshit,” you said, but there was no malice behind it. You tilted your head to meet her eyes and smiled at her, even as your eyes held something unreadable. “The Ellie I knew couldn’t wait to get out of this shithole - her words, not mine. She wouldn’t simply pass through - she would go out of her way to stay in the next town over. So,” you crossed your arms, “what changed?”

Before, if you had ever crossed your arms at her, Ellie would reach out and gently pull your arms away from your chest, pulling you into an embrace. She wanted nothing more than to pull you into her, instinct unaware of the three years and a thousand miles that had separated you. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the building, the brick biting into her back. “Nothing’s changed. Trust me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here.”

For only a second, your face twisted into something unreadable that pulled at Ellie's stomach. But you quickly schooled your expression, tilting your head, your smile soft. “Listen, I have to go - if I'm too late, these fuckers are just gonna try to skip. But we should meet up later - I want to catch up.” When Ellie opened her mouth to say you had been catching up, you continued, “Really catch up. I want you to tell me everything - it's been years, so we have a lot to cover.” You looked at your phone and cursed. “Look, my last class ends at 3:25. Meet me on the green after?” For good measure, you stuck out your bottom lip and added, “Please?”

Ellie had never been good at resisting that look - she had given into you so many times from that look alone. She had to bite back the sudden, stupid smile pulling at her cheeks, so she pressed her lips together and looked away. After three years, you still made her cheeks flush without trying.

“Okay,” was all she could say.

Without warning, you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around her neck briefly. Her hands hovered at your sides, unsure of where to go. Feeling your body pressed against her again - feeling the warm brush of your breath against her neck - short-circuited her brain, leaving her gasping on dry land.

Before she could figure out where to put her fucking hands, you murmured in her ear, “I really did miss you, Els,” and pulled away, just as quickly as you had come. Ellie's mouth hadn't even caught up to her brain by the time you were gone, the door closing softly behind you.

Later, after she had had a proper breakfast from McDonald's, she was still thinking about you. Seeing you again had opened up a bottle that she had sealed away, and the cork wouldn't fit back into it. Her fingers itched with the memory of your skin beneath them. When you had hugged her, she had smelled the shampoo that you apparently still used, and she remembered how it had felt to have your head on her chest, breathing you in as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. And your lips next to her ear - that opened a whole subcategory of memories that she tried desperately to push away.

She was only here for the night. She lost count of how many times she had to remind herself.

Ellie was stopped at a red light, leaning her bike from one foot to the other, when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the blinking crosswalk sign - twenty seconds, so she still had plenty of time before the light turned green - before fishing her phone out. She had to squint against the sun, straining to make out the screen. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw the familiar name popping up on her screen, fumbling to open the text.

There was a screenshot of an Instagram post from the venue she was going to play at. The band's name was in bold letters, stars pasted around a grainy picture of the group. And in small letters underneath - like an afterthought - was her name: Ellie Miller.

And underneath, in all caps:

YOU'RE PLAYING AT THE HAWTHORNE?????

Her face flushed all over again. After all these years, you had still kept her number.

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 6]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 3.1k

Authors Note: New chapter!! I hoped y'all enjoyed the little interlude between this part and the last, I really enjoyed writing it. And I hope you enjoy this update, as well!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @rispwr @taetaecatboy @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Interlude | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

The bed that you woke up on was soft, despite being a bit smaller than you were used to. There was a soft hum coming from a spinning fan, creating a comfortable white noise in the otherwise quiet apartment. Your weekender bag was tossed on the floor, and you slowly pieced together where you were. You knew you must’ve fallen asleep shortly after coming to Jung Kook’s place, exhausted by the situation you’ve found yourself in. You checked your phone by your bed, and realized that you had slept all day. 

As you stretched out, you began to smell a pleasant fragrance coming from outside the room. You rose from the bed and opened the door, walking down the hall as you followed the scent of freshly cut vegetables. You found your way towards the living room, which sat adjacent to the kitchen, where Jung Kook stood, not yet noticing you were close by. His dark hair looked incredibly fluffy, with strands falling perfectly out of place. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, showing off an arm of tattoos that usually stayed hidden behind the sleeve of a professional suit. But he still managed to look softer than you’ve ever seen, as he combined ingredients together in a large, red bowl.  

“Hi.” You called out softly, earning his attention. 

“Hi.” He repeated, continuing to stir. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Very good… Thanks.” You said quietly, walking to the kitchen island to sit on the bar stool across from Jung Kook. 

“I, uh… I figured you would be hungry.” Jung Kook explained. “I hope you like japchae.” 

“I love japchae.” You smiled. “Oh my God, I haven’t had that since coming to the city.” 

“Great.” He smiled back. “This is a family recipe, so tell me what you think, ok? It’s almost finished.” 

“Thank you.” You responded. 

You looked around his small but nice kitchen, taking in Jung Kook’s little corner of New York. His white board calendar was pressed to the refrigerator with blue marker ink-scribbled reminders on a few important dates. The happy law school graduation photo of himself, and what you assume to be his mother, was hung up with a magnet cutely made to look like a Doberman puppy. A small collection of cookbooks stacked on top of each other, largest to smallest, creating a neat pyramid shape on the counter, and a collection of soju and whiskey that seemed to be carefully selected. It all felt so… him. Nothing too fancy or expensive, but it didn’t need to be. It was cozy, and for the first time in several days, you genuinely felt calm. This space, his space, felt safe. 

Then, you noticed a freshly cut bouquet of red and pink flowers in a vase of water, sitting right by you on the kitchen island. 

“Those are pretty flowers.” You commented, reaching over to gently touch one of the pink petals. 

“Oh! Yeah, they’re um…. T-They’re for you, actually.” Jung Kook stuttered. “I wanted to take them to the guest room, but uh, I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“You got me flowers?” You asked, your eyes wide in surprise. 

“Yeah. I saw them on my way back from the office.” Jung Kook explained nervously, watching your expression closely. “There’s um, there’s this flower street cart thing, down the block, on the corner. I pass by it all the time, but uh, I thought m-maybe it would… make you feel better? After, y’know… everything this morning.” 

“You got me flowers.” You repeated to yourself quietly, staring at the bouquet of red and pink. “Jung Kook, that’s really, really nice of you.”

“Y/N-” 

“Nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before.” You said softly, tears blurring your vision. “Thank you.” 

Jung Kook stood there stunned, not expecting this reaction. How could a woman who had everything in the world, be so moved by a three dollar bouquet? 

“Nobody has gotten you flowers before?” Jung Kook asked, but internally burning to ask why Jimin has never done that for you, being as its something so simple. 

“No.” You shook your head. “Never.” 

You didn’t offer more of an explanation, and the timer on the kitchen stove buzzed, stealing Jung Kook’s attention away to plate the noodles before he could ask you anything else. 

“Here,” He said, filling your bowl. “Let me know what you think.” 

You nodded a quick ‘thank you’ when he handed you the bowl and utensils, and your cheeks blushed when his dark yet sparkling eyes watched you take the first bite. You never noticed how his eyes sparkled like that, like stars contrasted against a clear, black night sky. 

If someone had told Jung Kook years ago that one day, you would be alone with him in his apartment, eating his father’s famous japchae recipe with a smile on your face, he would’ve thought they were messing with him. It sounded too much like a daydream, like one of those pretend, domestic scenarios he used to fantasize about over and over again while sitting next to you in class. But here you were, as beautiful as you’ve ever been, barefoot in a pink nightgown, smiling that sweet smile, in his kitchen.  

“It’s delicious!” You praised, lighting up excitedly at the flavor. “I think you could’ve been a chef!” 

“Thanks.” He blushed, shaking his head. “Eat well, ok? Have as much as you’d like.” 

The two of you ate in casual silence for a few moments, except for the occasional slurping. You sat at the kitchen island, and Jung Kook leaning against the kitchen counter, still facing you, with a bowl of his own. It was a small moment, and it felt delicate and new, chocked full of potential, like a seed planted in the cold ground. It was something Jung Kook wanted to water and nurture, to see if it would bloom when the weather turned warmer. 

“So…” He said, breaking the silence. “What do you want to do tonight?” 

“Hm?” You asked with a mouth full of noodles. 

“Well, I’ve got some games. Board games, or the Switch,” He explained. “Or, we can watch something. Netflix, Hulu, HBO… Whatever you want.”  

“Any of that sounds so nice.” You said with a smile. “Seriously, I’m happy with anything.” 

“Ok.” Jung Kook said, before glancing down to notice your bowl was empty. “Do you want any more? I made plenty.” 

“I’m so full now, but thank you.” You answered with a small laugh. 

“Any time.” Jung Kook responded, taking your dish. “I’ll clean up, don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you in the living room in a few minutes, ok?” 

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” You asked, watching him already load the dishwasher. 

“No, please, don’t worry about it.” Jung Kook said. “I’ve got it, it’ll just take a second.” 

“Ok.” You said, walking towards the dimly lit living room, only illuminated by the soft glow of the floor lamp sitting in the corner of the room. 

His Apple TV and Switch sat side by side on top of a small bookshelf, underneath the wall-mounted tv. The shelf was lined with comics, horror and romance books, which took you by surprise, be it a nice one. The curtains were opened, revealing a beautiful view of Manhattan at night, with glittering skyscrapers. You stood by one of the windows, looking out and taking it in. From so high up, the world below looked so small and far away, completely separated from where you stood, unable to reach you. Once again, a new sense of calm and safety flooded your system, allowing words you never meant to say to spill out.

“Jimin’s never gotten me flowers.” You thought out loud, speaking softly to yourself. Jung Kook heard you, and paused putting the last dish in the washer, turning to look at you from the other room. The distance between the two of you palpable; so close, yet still so far away. 

“Jimin’s never gotten you flowers?” He asked gently, and you turned to face him with a tinge of pink to your cheeks. 

“No.” You repeated, shaking your head. “Never.” 

“I’m sorry.” He responded, unsure as to what else he could say. 

“It’s ok.” 

But it wasn’t. Jung Kook knew that, and you knew that, but it went unsaid. Jimin gave you everything you should want; expensive gifts, trips to beautiful locations, and dining at the best restaurants in the world. But beneath all of that, the things you needed were absent. Peace. Protection. Stability. When those things don’t exist, you end up with a mess, exemplified ironically by a trashed luxury hotel suite. 

“Let’s watch a movie.” Jung Kook said, coming to the living room, and breaking you out of your thoughts. “Have you seen Wonka yet?” 

“Wonka? As in, the Timothée Chalamet musical Wonka?” You giggled at the suggestion. “No, I haven’t. I’ve heard that movie is so silly.” 

“I think silly may be perfect right now.” Jung Kook smiled at your description, revealing his boyish dimples, before sitting on the couch. “C’mon, I’ll put it on.” 

The movie glowed on the screen, and you settled into the couch, quickly getting comfortable. Jung Kook tried to focus, which proved to be a challenge as he sat so close to you. He hoped you couldn’t hear his heart race, or his abnormally deep breaths, or sense just how badly he wanted to hold your hand, or throw his arm around your shoulders so you could lean into him, or kiss your lips. He appeared calm on the outside, but inside, he was more desperate than he’d ever been. You were so close, but still so painfully far away from where he knew you could be... or maybe, even should be. But for the night, he accepted what he had; the girl of his dreams, comfortably in his apartment, but not quite close enough to touch. For now, that would have to be enough. 

——————————————————————————————————

Jimin’s father spent much of his life teaching his son what he could. Negotiating business deals, looking over contracts, and how to find a good lawyer, leading to his meeting with the family attorney, Mr. Kim Namjoon. But the underlying message of all of these things, was the most important lesson that Jimin had ever learned; Parks get what they want. It didn’t matter how, or at what cost; this is a family that got what they wanted. 

Jimin, for much of his life, had experienced this. A play room of toys at 5. A puppy and a horse at 10. A weekly allowance at 13, with deposits being much more than most people would see in a month. It was his father’s way of showing love. A poor man turned rich man through hard work, his father wanted his son to have the life he never had as a child. This only became more true with the early passing of Jimin’s mother. In his grief, Jimin’s father continued to spoil him monetarily, while setting high expectations in the areas of academics and sports that Jimin, despite being an overachiever by every metric, could never seem to hit. This is when Jimin began secretly drinking, as a way to cope. Love in the Park family wasn’t expressed in three words, or in sentimentality. It was expressed through the swipe of a Black Card, and tinted by the ever-present need to have control. 

This would come to a head on an early morning in Mr. Kim’s office, when Jimin, still hung over and tempers boiling just under the surface, was told exactly that. 

“What do you mean no?” Jimin asked, his tone angry. 

“I mean no.” Namjoon said nonchalantly. “She’s not coming back to the hotel. She’s staying where she is.” 

“I thought I told you that if your colleague is left alone with my fiancé again, I’ll pull my business from the firm and find representation elsewhere.” Jimin gritted his teeth. “I find this to be completely unacceptable.” 

“Mr. Park, with all due respect, let me tell you what I find to be unacceptable.” Namjoon responded, growing frustrated with the client. “What’s unacceptable, is having my high-profile client trash a five-star Manhattan suite, and leave Ms. Y/L/N so desperate for relief that she calls me at the crack of dawn, only for me to find you passed out in your underwear on the bed from a night of heavy drinking. You’re lucky the other guests didn’t call an employee when they heard the noise, and that it was only Mr. Jeon and I, because I guarantee your little ‘lover’s quarrel' or whatever would’ve been plastered all over the Korean press by now. It would’ve been embarrassing for everyone involved.” 

“How do we know it won’t be in the press?” Jimin tsked. “How will it look to send me into treatment, with my wife-to-be staying with another man? You think people won’t ask questions about that? You think that’s not embarrassing for me?” 

“I think it makes you look responsible.” Namjoon argued. “We can tell any curious press, and the judge, that you’re getting your life back on track, and you’ve left your fiancé in the care of a close friend, who also happens to be a colleague of your lawyer, so that she has support. It makes you look selfless, and secure. You know what doesn’t? Throwing your fiancé’s clothes around like a spoiled brat when she tries to leave you. That, Mr. Park, I can’t spin in a way that makes you look good.” 

“She was only trying to leave for the night.” Jimin said quietly, clearly ashamed to admit to Namjoon the damage he had done. “She wasn’t leaving me… She loves me.” 

“She does.” Namjoon agreed. “Which is why she wants you to get help, and why you shouldn’t worry about Mr. Jeon. And I know that you love her, too, which is why you need to focus on keeping her. This is the way you can do that.” 

“Fine.” Jimin agreed through tight, gritted teeth. “So then, what’s the plan?” 

“Today, we’re getting documentation from the treatment center, and Ms. Y/L/N’s letter.” Namjoon explained. “We’ll meet Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Jeon at the rehabilitation center, and we’ll make sure everything’s in order to show the judge tomorrow morning. Then, we’ll argue that you’ve responsibly checked yourself in, and that you need time before you’re able to conduct yourself in a courtroom again. Ms. Y/L/N will write a letter about your character that I’ll submit to the court, and knowing this judge, I believe he’ll find it admirable that you and your fiancé are committed to your treatment, and he’ll defer your date.” 

“Ok.” Jimin nodded. “I think that can work… I’m going to miss her while I’m gone, Mr. Kim.” 

“I know.” Namjoon said, his voice empathetic. “But you know she’ll visit you as often as she’s allowed to by the center, and she’ll miss you just as much, if not more so. That’s why you need to do this, for her. Now come on, we need to get going.” 

Jimin’s personal driver was waiting outside of the firm for the pair, ready to take them to the address that Namjoon had texted him earlier that morning. The car ride was silent, with Jimin watching people from his tinted window go about their day. He was nervous to see you, unsure of how upset you’ll be with him. His leg bounced uncomfortably as the car turned right several blocks from the office, taking them closer to where Jimin would be spending the next three months. 

He saw you, standing outside of the building with Jung Kook. You wore a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, and a Chanel bag across your body. Jimin quickly unbuckled and got out the car, anxious to see you. 

“H-Honey…” He said, dashing over to you, like nothing else in the world existed. You wrapped your arms around him, soothing his worries, and Jimin pulled you in close to kiss your lips. Jung Kook immediately looked away, choosing instead to meet Namjoon’s attention and nod his hello. 

“Hi, baby.” You said, holding back tears. 

“Honey, I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry.” Jimin rambled, his hands cupping your cheeks so that you’ll look at his face, as he wiped any tears that rolled down. “Anything mean that I did, and anything mean that I said, I didn’t mean it. You know that, right, Y/N? I’m so sorry, you must’ve been so scared. Fuck, I never want to hurt you, or upset you. I love you, and I’ll never be angry like that with you again. I’m gonna get better, ok, honey? Gonna get better for us.” 

Jung Kook wanted to scoff, but he bit his tongue. He wondered how many times you’ve heard the same promises, hashed out the same fights, cried the same tears. He wondered how many times you’ve had to piece your heart back together, only for it to shatter again. 

He wondered how many times you can spin in the same circle, until growing too dizzy to do so any more. He wondered if that day would come, and if he could be the one standing there, ready to steady you until your world stopped spinning. 

“I love you.” You said softly, keeping your arms around Jimin. “I just want you to be happy… I was so scared, and I missed my Jimin.”

“I’m right here.” He said, pressing another kiss to your head as his heart broke. “I’m right here, honey. I’ll always be happy, because of you, ok? Nothing is ever going to change that. I’m your Jimin, forever. I love you.” 

“I hate to break up a sweet moment, Ms. Y/L/N,” Namjoon said, stepping towards the couple. “But we need to wrap up some loose ends, so that we can get Mr. Park set up for tomorrow.” 

“Ok.” You said, pulling away from Jimin. He grabbed your hand and smiled softly, pulling your hand up to his lips for a kiss. 

The four of you walked into the treatment center, with Namjoon, Jimin and yourself signing Jimin in and going over what will take place over the next ninety days. Jung Kook just stood behind and out of the way, watching the way Jimin kept your hand in his, or softly brushed  pieces of hair from your face, or snuck a quick kiss to your lips and cheek when he thought nobody saw. Jung Kook watched the way you folded so quickly under his touch, his kiss or a sweet look in his eye. 

In that moment, Jung Kook felt as though he were a college student again, watching you with another man, while he blended seamlessly into the background walls. 

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2116

warnings/notes: little steamy :)

Chapter 5: Unveiling Shadows

Jerry's fingers drummed an erratic rhythm on the worn bar top, creating a staccato beat that echoed through the dimly lit bar. An unsettling feeling clung to him like the mist that crept in with the evening tide, shrouding the city in a cloak of mystery and intrigue. There was something off about Austin, something hidden beneath the carefully constructed veneer of normalcy, and it gnawed at Jerry's insides.

"Something ain't right," Jerry muttered under his breath, his gut instincts screaming at him to pay attention to this nagging doubt. It felt like a splinter under his skin, impossible to ignore or shake off.

He needed someone who could see through the fog, someone cunning and unburdened by ties of close friendship. Victor "Viper" Sanchez came to mind—a man whose nickname forewarned his lethal bite. Viper was a shadow among their gang, always lurking on the outskirts, observing and waiting for his moment to strike out for a better position.

Jerry made his way over to Victor, who as usual, was lingering in the shadows of the bar. He was halfway through his second pint of beer but still appeared razor-sharp and alert. When Jerry approached, Victor looked up at him with a sly grin.

"Talk to me," Victor's voice slithered like a serpent, smooth and expectant.

"Viper, I need your eyes on someone. Discreetly," Jerry stated bluntly, wasting no time on pleasantries.

"Got a mouse scurrying in your pantry, huh?" Victor chuckled, but there was no amusement behind it. "Who's the target?"

"Austin," Jerry replied, tightening his grip on his own bottle of beer. "There's something he's not telling us."

"Intriguing." The word rolled off Victor's tongue like a predator sizing up its prey. "And what's in it for me?"

"Find out what he's hiding, and you move up. You have my word on that," Jerry offered, knowing all too well the currency of ambition among their kind.

A brief pause, then, "Consider it done. I'll sniff out whatever secrets he's burying."

"Good," Jerry responded with a curt nod. Victor was a serpent, but for now, he was Jerry's serpent. Until they knew what lurked behind Austin's carefully constructed walls, this alliance was necessary.

Austin led Bonnie through the thickening woods, his footsteps barely making a sound against the undergrowth. The air was crisp and filled with the rich scent of pine and damp earth, the moonlight casting a silvery glow through the tangle of branches overhead. He carried a worn backpack on his shoulder, packed tightly with all the necessary items for Bonnie's transformation that was to come.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Bonnie's voice trembled as she glanced at the darkening sky. With each step, she could feel the pull of the moon, like an insistent tide against her senses.

"Bonnie," Austin said, slowing his pace and turning to face her, "I've done this more times than I can count. We're going to be fine."

His hand found hers, warm and comforting.

She managed to nod, but her breaths were shallow and choppy with anxiety. The inner beast within her was restless, pacing like a caged animal awaiting its release.

As they walked, Austin began recounting memories from their childhood, his voice a soothing melody that contrasted the wildness stirring within her. "Remember when we built that fort out of fallen branches? You insisted it was our secret base, impervious to all attacks."

A faint smile crossed Bonnie's lips. "And Jerry tried to barge in, and you stood at the entrance like some kind of pint-sized warrior king."

"Nobody breached Fort Bonnie while I was on watch," Austin said with a hint of playful pride. He squeezed her hand gently. "Just like nobody is getting past me tonight. You have my word."

The memories washed over Bonnie like a warm wave, each one a testament to the bond they shared. There had been scraped knees, stolen cookies, whispered secrets beneath the stars. And now, as night descended upon them, Bonnie realized something crucial: Austin had always been her shield, her unwavering guardian against the chaos of the world—and of herself.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling the weight of her own vulnerability and the depth of his loyalty. "For everything."

"Always, Bonnie," he said simply, his gaze never leaving hers. "We'll face the moon together."

As they approached the old bomb shelter, a remnant from a bygone era, fear and gratitude warred within Bonnie. But as they stepped into its shadow, built to withstand disasters of a very different kind, she felt a surge of courage. No matter what the night would bring, she wouldn't face it alone. Austin stood by her side, just as he always had, ready to weather any storm.

Austin's muscles strained as he pushed open the heavy door of the shelter, its creaking groan echoing through the empty room. The only light came from a single lantern, casting flickering shadows over the stark concrete walls. The room was barren except for the cold metal hooks that protruded like statues, waiting to fulfill their duty.

"Here," Austin said, his voice low and urgent as he picked up one of the chains lying in the corner. "We need to do this now before the moon rises any higher."

Bonnie's heart fluttered in her chest, torn between a primal yearning for freedom and a deep-seated dread of what was to come. She held out her arm to him, feeling the cold metal of the shackle clamp around her wrist with an eerie finality.

"I still remember my first transformation," Austin whispered as he secured another shackle around her other wrist. "I was so scared, didn't know what to expect. But my father was there, just like I'm here for you. Although I won’t be yelling at you to suck it up."

Their eyes met, and Bonnie saw a reflection of their shared past in Austin's gaze—the pain, the struggle, but also the unspoken bond they had always shared. "It's hard, chaining up your own kin knowing what they're about to endure. But it's necessary for our safety. First transformations are always the hardest."

As Bonnie listened to his voice, filled with understanding and compassion, she felt a pang of guilt twist in her gut. It had been five years since she left without a word, abandoning not just her family but also her identity and heritage.

"Austin," she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry—for leaving, for not explaining why. I thought I was protecting myself from... this." She gestured helplessly towards the chains that now bound her. “I couldn’t face it. I knew what my father did. I had heard the stories of the blood and the murders and the news reports of animal attacks. I never wanted to become like that, but Dad always said I wouldn’t be able to control it once I turned.” She looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable.

"I thought if I just ran away...I could escape it all. Go somewhere where no one knew me, where there were no gangs or werewolves."

Austin finished securing the last shackle and stood up, facing her with a mix of hurt and forgiveness in his expression. It was a tapestry woven together with threads of time and affection.

"Bonnie, when you left, it felt like a piece of me was torn away. It hurt, a lot." He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with gentle fingers. "But deep down, I knew you had your reasons." His voice was soft and filled with understanding. "And I would have waited for you. Another 20 years if that's what it took."

In the cold shelter, bound by chains, Bonnie felt an unexpected warmth bloom in her chest. No matter how far she had run or how long she had been gone, the bond between her and Austin remained unbreakable. It was a love that transcended distance and time—patient, enduring, and unconditional. And in that moment, she realized that nothing could ever sever what they truly meant to each other.

Austin's piercing blue eyes locked with Bonnie's, the intensity of their gaze igniting a fire deep within both of them. In that moment, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind only the raw and unspoken desires that charged the atmosphere between them.

"Bonnie," his voice rumbled with a passion that sent shivers down her spine, "I have something to tell you. Something I've known for a long time, but never had the courage to say." His words hung in the air, heavy and tangible.

His words hung in the air like a tangible force, electrifying and intoxicating at once. As she looked up at him, she couldn't help but feel both excited and apprehensive about what he was about to say.

And then he spoke those four words that changed everything: "You are my mate."

The weight of those words hit her like a bolt of lightning, awakening something primal inside her that she never knew existed. Mate. It echoed in her mind until it was all she could hear. Mates had a bond that was so strong and so rare there were few wolves alive who even believed it existed. Memories flooded her mind—moments shared beneath starry skies, stolen touches and secret glances, the unbreakable bond between them that she had always felt but never fully understood.

"I think...I think I've always known," she stammered, her heart racing with newfound understanding and aching with lost time. ���I think I felt it even before I left. All this time, I never forgot the pain of leaving you behind."

Her words seemed to unlock something within Austin as well, for he moved closer until there was barely any space between them. His fingers traced her face delicately before tangling in her hair, pulling her into a passionate embrace.

Their lips met in a frenzy of pent-up longing and desire, each touch setting off sparks that spread throughout their bodies like wildfire. All around them ceased to exist—the coldness of the shelter, the impending transformation, the dangers of giving in to their urges during this heightened time—all of it faded away as they surrendered themselves to each other.

Hands roamed freely over familiar yet somehow new territory, rediscovering every inch of skin with a renewed sense of wonder and pleasure. Their kiss became a dance fueled by the pull of the full moon and their undeniable bond, two souls finally coming together as one.

But as their passion reached its peak, a nagging thought broke through their haze of desire. With great effort, Austin tore himself away from her, both of them gasping for air as they clung to each other.

"Bonnie, we can't..." His voice was filled with equal parts longing and restraint. "Not now. It's too dangerous with the moon rising." He had to go meet with the pack for their monthly hunt. The wolf in him urged him to keep going, to claim her, to mark every part of her body and make sure everyone understood who she belonged to. Fighting it was even harder with the full moon.

She nodded in understanding, even though every fiber of her being protested against the idea of leaving things unfinished. But for those few fleeting moments, they had found pure bliss amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their situation. And that was enough for now.

The distant howl, carried on the wailing wind, sent shivers down Bonnie's spine. She held onto Austin's warmth, his touch imprinting itself onto her skin as he slowly untangled himself from her embrace.

"I'll return as soon as I can," he promised, his eyes speaking volumes beyond his words.

With a final look that spoke of longing and regret, he departed from the room. The door creaked shut behind him, the sound echoing through the empty space along with the deafening click of the lock. Bonnie was left alone with only the flickering lantern for company.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she braced against the cold metal shackles that bound her. Fear and anticipation battled inside her as she waited for the inevitable transformation. The first change was always the most brutal - when you lost control of your senses and body to the primal beast within. Closing her eyes, Bonnie prepared herself for the excruciating pain and the terrifying loss of self. And then it came, like a searing fire from the depths of hell, ripping through every fiber of her being until she couldn't contain her screams any longer.

Stay tuned for part 6!! Click HERE to view!

[sophrosynesworld]

The Delicate Balance

Imagine being a lawyer helping the LOV.

Come Now.

I’m with a client, is this an emergency?

Don’t test my patience.

Don’t threaten the person who keeps you out of prison. Is this important?

Yes.

I’m on my way. Don’t do anything stupid.

I roll my eyes and stuff my phone back into my purse, standing up from the table. The tension in the conference room thickens as I interrupt the meeting.

“I am so sorry, gentlemen. I have another emergency to attend to. I’m sure you can finish this up without me, right?” I adjust my pencil skirt, ensuring it sits perfectly, as I gather my paperwork.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll leave the final draft on your desk before I leave for the evening,” one of the junior associates chimes in eagerly, his eyes wide with ambition. He’s desperate to prove himself useful, and I nod curtly, acknowledging his enthusiasm. 

I turn to my client, a middle-aged man with worry lines etched into his forehead. "You’re in good hands," I assure him, shaking his hand firmly. "I’ll review everything first thing tomorrow."

As I exit the sleek office building, I slip into the bustling crowd, my heels clicking with purpose against the pavement. I make my way to the subway station, weaving through the crowd of commuters.

Once I’m a few blocks away, I duck into a narrow alleyway, the noise of the city fading into the background. I continue towards an inconspicuous door, blending seamlessly into the brick wall. Glancing around to ensure I’m not being followed; I tap a code into a hidden panel on the ground. The door clicks open, and I slip inside, descending into the dimly lit corridor of the League of Villain's headquarters.

Inside, the atmosphere shifts dramatically. The air is heavy with the scent of metal and booze. The dimly lit bar isn't my typical client's office, but I don't mind as long as the check clears. As I move further in, the eyes of the League of Villains members flicker towards me, curiosity mingling with their usual wariness.

The first thing I notice is surprising. In the center of the room, tied to a chair, is none other than Katsuki Bakugo, a student from U.A. High. His usually fierce eyes are now filled with a mix of rage and fear, and his mouth is gagged, stifling any potential explosions of his infamous temper.

“Why do you have a child tied to that chair?” My voice is flat, deliberately controlled to mask my shock. The last thing I need is to show any weakness.

Toga, lounging casually nearby, looks up with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Can you report this to the police?”

“No,” I reply, keeping my tone professional. “I’m only required to report you if you haven’t committed the crime yet, but have just informed me that you plan to do so. But again, why is he here?”

Toga tilts her head, her expression turning mischievous. “He’s our newest member. He's just a little upset right now." She laughs, "Don’t worry, we won’t hurt him... much.”

Suppressing a sigh, I remind myself of my role here. I’m not just their lawyer; I’m their strategist, their advisor. I step closer to Bakugo, his fiery gaze boring into mine despite his predicament.

“I need you to understand,” I say, turning to address the room, “that actions like these complicate your operations. Kidnapping a high-profile U.A. student draws significant attention, and attention is the last thing we need right now.”

Spinner, leaning against the bar, nods in agreement. “She’s right. We can’t afford to have the heroes sniffing around.”

Shigaraki, sitting in the shadows, finally speaks. His voice is calm but carries an edge of menace. “We’re aware of the risks. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

I kneel down to Bakugo’s level, offering a reassuring smile despite the situation. “We’re going to sort this out, okay? You’ll be fine.” Turning back to the group, I add, “We need to handle this delicately. I’ll draft a plan that ensures our security and minimizes the fallout.”

As I straighten up, I catch Dabi’s smirk from across the room. “You always know how to handle things, don’t you?”

“It’s my job,” I reply coolly. “But we can’t just release him. He’ll come back, and he won’t be alone. We need a solution that neutralizes the threat without escalating our exposure.”

Shigaraki leans forward, eyes narrowing. “What do you suggest?”

I think for a moment, weighing our options. “We need to relocate him somewhere secure, where he can’t easily escape or be found. Somewhere remote. And we need to ensure his containment is discreet.”

Toga perks up. “I know a place. An old warehouse outside the city. Hardly anyone goes there anymore.”

“That could work,” I nod. “But we also need to consider his friends will be looking for him. We need to leave false leads, misdirections to keep them off our trail.”

Dabi’s smirk widens. “Now you’re talking.”

I glance at Bakugo again, his eyes burning with silent fury. “We’ll move him tonight. Spinner, Toga, you handle the transport. Dabi, you’re on diversion duty. Create enough chaos to distract the heroes. Shigaraki, I’ll need your approval to mobilize the resources for this.”

Shigaraki gives a slow nod. “Do it. And make sure it’s done right.”

The tension in the room shifts to a focused determination. As the League members move to their tasks, I take a deep breath, ready to dive into the next challenge.

[lookwhatyoumademedohaha]

And that kids is, how I met your mother   Chapter 5 - Cornelia Street

We were in the backseat Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead Leading us home

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

Summary: While you are beginning again in Ravka, Kaz Brekker contemplates and reminisces about how you were the one who quietly made a home in his cold heart and is addicted to the terrible ache in his heart that he feels keenly at your absence in his life. 

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Reader, Nikolai Lantsov x Six of Crows Reader, Kaz Brekker x Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky x Reader (Platonic), Nina Zenik x Reader (Platonic), Genya Safin x Reader (Platonic), Six of Crows x Reader (Platonic). 

Warnings: Pure sweet fluff, humor, lots of angst, unrequited love that might be requited, denial, pining, mentions of death and violence, Dregs being legends, Kaz Brekker being an absolute emotionally constipated asshole in denial.

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m very grateful for your kindness, love and support that encourages me to keep going! I apologize for the delay but here is the long awaited Chapter 5 to this work, you have all been waiting for patiently so thank you for your patience and understanding! I’ve written this chapter from Kaz’ POV explaining his feelings and thoughts because I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time and it was a challenge but I finally did it! 

I hope you all like it and I’m excited! Let me know your thoughts and comments on my work because I really struggled through writer’s block on this one.

I love you all! Happy reading!

Chapter 1 - Until I Found Her

Chapter 2 - Labyrinth

Chapter 3 - Call it what you want

Chapter 4 -  Someone to Stay

Ketterdam was dark and dismal full of hidden secrets and monsters in the shadows. The city was built on blood and secrets and no one knew that better than the man who now ruled it, Kaz Brekker. 

As Kaz Brekker strode through the crowded streets of Ketterdam filled with gullible pigeons and hungry monsters, he felt empty and alone. It was a feeling now he knew all too well though he tried to ignore it. The feeling ached and hurt him in places he didn’t know he had for the last few weeks. Kaz felt terrible these days, his mood completely sour and ill - tempered than usual frightening the Dregs, hurting his enemies and concerning his friends. Kaz couldn’t sleep the last few weeks as he tossed and turned restlessly in his empty and cold bed and in the rare moments he sunk into a fitful slumber, he was dreamt of you and woke up with sweat running down his forehead and gasps. 

In the moments of sleep, he dreamt of you. The dreams always started the same way... there you were smiling at him as he reached for you, as he pressed a hungry kiss onto your sweet lips devouring you eagerly as both of you indulged in happiness and love that was only yours. But it would all fall down when the thick darkness began to envelope their surroundings and though they tried to escape it, you both would be caught in it, trapped within a dark and deserted place where nothing grew. Kaz remembered feeling your hand brush against his in the darkness. It wouldn’t make sense but suddenly the darkness would thin out slightly and they were both alone in a ship that had been wrecked as a storm poured down on them. In his dream, Kaz and you were trying to find a way out of the ship wreck but out of the blue, a shadowy figure shoots at Kaz but the bullet never reaches Kaz. Kaz wonders why he is unharmed as he realizes that in the cold of the stormy night, you had wrapped yourself around him and taken the bullet for him. Kaz watches you bleed as the life drained away from your eyes and the storm drowns you and he loses you. 

He hates this feeling of helplessness and fear he feels when he wakes up and realizes it isn’t real, it was just a nightmare but it hurts more when it hits him that you aren’t around to quiet his fears with the gentleness in your eyes and the touch of your hand. 

Since you left Ketterdam, the days dragged on and time seemed to pass by completely slowly infuriating Kaz who was haunted by you and took out his anger on everyone else. Everyone in Ketterdam feared him more than ever, and the Crows were praying for your swift return. 

Kaz remembered the first time he had seen you. It was a moment he would never forget. 

The cold season was oncoming and the Crows had heard of stories of the number of children increased in Ketterdam who were shivering in the cold, starving and had no shelter. As they made their way to the Slat that provided them warmth as they talked and laughed, Jesper’s eyes had landed on a girl dressed in a shabby and raggedy dress standing on the dirty and wet street with baskets in her arms as she stared at him hungrily. 

Jesper was used to people staring at him. Everyone stared at him in admiration, fear, awe and lust and Jesper loved it. But Jesper had never felt anyone stare at him hungrily with a wistful look. It made him feel sad as he met your hungry and starved eyes that stared at him greedily and thought that you were one of those poor beggar children who had nothing to eat and no one to go to. It never occurred to him that you had been staring at him hungrily because you were greedy and starving for the warm and happy life he led with his friends, the laughter and mischievousness that glittered in his kind eyes and that you just wanted to go back to the better days where you had your brother by your side, and everything was just perfect and unspoiled. Jesper only saw your ragged clothes, hungry eyes, skinny figure that shivered in the cold. 

And that’s why Jesper thrust his hand into his pocket and took the money he had been meaning to gamble and took off his coat as well as he walked toward you with kindness “Here you go, dear. Take this money and my coat. It’ll keep you warm.”

You had been startled and alarmed as you realized the boy with a warm and sunny disposition you had been staring at had mistaken you for a beggar girl and you realized you looked like one of the shabby and skinny poor children, the ones you had always been generous to back at home. The realization hit you like a hurricane with humiliation as you grew red and then deathly white in embarrassment as you thought of how far you had fallen down from grace. 

And that’s why you broke into a laugh because you were close to crying as you exclaimed your heart touched at the boy’s kindness because all your time spent in Ketterdam, kindness had been very rare to you “Oh no! Oh no, thank you! I must refuse!”

The Crows who had been watching the scene unfold, waiting for Jesper patiently looked in intrigue and interest at you. Kaz raised his head to truly look at you because it was your voice that had interested all of them especially him as he took a few steps forward to listen to you. You did not speak in a manner of an ordinary street child but your manners belonged to a girl who was well bred and raised in a good household. A manner of a princess, mused Kaz as he looked at you intently. 

But Jesper was not to be moved away as he placed his coat over you and put the money in the palm of your hand with kindness etched on his face “You mustn’t refuse! Don’t worry, I have plenty of coats and trust me, this one will keep you really warm. And you must use this money to buy food. If there’s anything you need from me, just ask for Jesper at the Crow Club.”

You saw something so kind and generous in his face that you knew to refuse would break his heart and you didn’t want to disappoint him. So you tightened the very warm coat around you and gratefully accepted the kruge from Jesper who grinned happily though your pride felt stung and your cheeks burned bitterly. You had known that you looked weary and shabby but until now you didn’t know you looked like a beggar girl. 

His grin reminded you so much of your brother and his kindness was such a beautiful thing that you choked on a sob of humiliation and pain, reminiscence and happiness as you flung your arms around him “Thank you! Thank you so much! You are such a kind, sweet and generous darling boy!”

And with those words, you let go of Jesper who smiled happily and you left feeling warm. Kaz’ eyes widened at your response as Jesper skipped back towards them with a happy grin and Kaz reprimanded Jesper “Jesper! Why did you do that? That girl is not a beggar! She didn’t speak like a beggar or look like a beggar!”

“And she didn’t beg. I thought she would be angry with you. Sometimes, it makes people angry to be taken for beggars when they are not.” said Inej who felt sympathetic for you but she agreed with Kaz because there had been something very different about her. 

“She wasn’t angry.” replied Jesper dismayed at his friends reactions but firm in what he had done and happy because he had made a difference in your life as he smiled widely “She was very happy. She laughed and hugged me and said I was a kind, sweet and generous darling boy! And I was!”

Kaz and Inej exchanged thoughtful glances as Kaz felt mystified by you and said “An ordinary beggar girl would have never said that. They would have just accepted the money and thanked you quickly or even respectfully bobbed a curtesy.”

From that moment on, Kaz Brekker was profoundly interested in you. Not just Kaz Brekker but the Crows and nearly all of the Dregs. You knew nothing of this new interest in you and never appeared at the Crow Club seeking Jesper Fahey but whenever you passed the Slat in your broken shoes and worn out clothes, your hair tucked with a ribbon, faces would appear at the window to take a good look at you, many discussions concerning you were held and you were nicknamed at the girl who is not a beggar. It was hilarious when the Dregs said it in a hurry. 

Inej who had followed you and found information about you, told Kaz and Jesper about you “She is alone in Ketterdam. She doesn’t have anybody - she’s an orphan. She’s kind of a servant at the Van Eck mansion. She runs errands, carries parcels and does anything they tell her to.”

Inej’s anger was evident as she spoke fiercely, her hands clenched “They work her to the bone - sending her on long and tiresome errands without any proper clothing. And they punish her, hit her and deprive her of food and starve her and she doesn’t even have a proper place to sleep.”

Jesper looked like he was one second away from marching to the Van Eck mansion and getting you out of there but Inej wasn’t done as she continued “But she’s really strong. She’s friends with a crow that comes to her window and a rat in her room that she tamed.”

Jesper started laughing in amusement and wonder as his eyes gleamed in fondness “Oh! She’s odd that one but I believe I am beginning to like her!”

Kaz hid the little smile that threatened to burst at the thought of you taming and being friends with animals as he listened to Inej “And as for people who are nice to her... the Van Eck boy and her are friends. He’s the only one who is nice to her in that house.”

“What? You mean, Van Eck’s son is friends with the girl who isn’t a beggar?” asked Jesper in interest and intrigue as he snorted in amusement while Kaz sat up in interest “What? Does his daddy know?”

“No. The visits are secret and very rare. The Van Eck boy comes to her room at night whenever it’s safe, with food and books. And she reads to him and tells him stories and they talk and pretend that the attic she lives in is somewhere nicer. But she’s not a beggar.”

Kaz listened to this in rapt attention as he thought of you braving your unbearable life with a vivid imagination and determination. Perhaps that’s when Kaz had begun to like her unbeknownst to him.

The next time Kaz saw you was when he was on his way to the Slat after a negotiation and he spotted your dark mane of hair tied with a narrow ribbon as you slipped through the crowd and something in him ignited fiercely as he followed you quietly in interest. This day was a wretched one. His leg ached bitterly but he followed you nevertheless as he observed you were dressed in a dark blue dress that had grown shabbier and worn out, your shoes were downtrodden and wet with water that filled it, the coat around your shoulders was Jesper’s, your face pinched and starved and cold with blue and your heavy thick mane of dark hair was tied in a narrow ribbon. 

That day was wretchedly freezing and dreary, the street wet and sloppy and Kaz observed how the wind tried to drag the coat Jesper had given you as you waded through the mud, the water filling your broken shoes. Although Kaz knew of your position in the Van Eck household, he truly did not know the extent to which the ill tempered and depressed staff treated you as a slave driving you on errands on the worst days. Kaz didn’t know that today of all days, you were trying to keep away the thoughts of your ravenous hunger by thinking of more pleasant and lovelier thoughts of being in dry and beautiful clothes, eating the most delicious food in the company of those whom you loved the best. He did not know for you, your imagination and making up stories and pretending was your way of coping and being strong in the hell of this city. 

Kaz observed you stop at a bakery as you stared hungrily at the pastries, buns and cakes on display when your attention seemed to shift to a little beggar boy with untamable wild curly hair, a pale face with big hungry eyes and dirty clothes as he wrapped himself with rags to keep warm from the freezing cold. The boy was younger than Kaz himself and Kaz observed you talk softly and kindly to the boy for a few moments, your lips nearly blue from the cold. Kaz waited in the shadows as he saw you finish the conversation with the little hungry boy and look at him with an odd look in your eyes. 

Kaz watched keenly as you entered the bakery where you were greeted by a friendly and kind boy with unruly brown hair and watched you point for three waffles. The nice and warm ones that had just been made. Kaz quietly watched the baker boy throw in five waffles in the bag for you and you seemed to point his mistake to Kaz’ surprise. Kaz wondered why you wouldn’t just take it and leave when you were so hungry. But the baker boy just smiled kindly and gave the bag to you as you stumbled out of the bakery and look at the little boy who seemed to be crying in suffering and starvation. 

Kaz urged you to leave. You had what you wanted, there was no time for you to think about others. 

But to his great shock, you knelt down before the boy as you gently smiled at him and handed him one waffle. The boy looked at you in amazement as if you had performed a miracle and began to eat it up wildly as if he was afraid that the waffle would vanish any time if he didn’t devour it up soon. Kaz was frozen in shock as he watched you place the rest of the waffles in the little beggar boy’s hands as you said something kind to the boy and ruffled his hair. The savage beggar boy was too hungry to give thanks as you left him to eat knowing that he was starving and the beggar boy looked up to see the vanishing figure of you at the end of the street. 

Kaz didn’t know why but he knew that you could have eaten up all five waffles without hesitation. He had seen it in your eyes. And yet, you had sacrificed it for this poor child you barely knew. As he reflected on his thoughts, curiosity got the better of him as he strode toward the boy. 

“Who gave you those waffles?”

The boy nodded toward your vanishing figure and Kaz queried curiously “What did she say to you?”

The boy looked at Kaz distrustfully but answered “Asked me if I was ‘ungry.”

“What did you say?”

“Said I had nothin to eat.”

“And then she bought the waffles and gave it to you?”

The boy nodded and although Kaz knew the answer, he had to hear it from the boy’s mouth “How many?”

“Five.”

Something in Kaz’ seemed to ignite at the answer. He had seen it was five but he couldn’t quite believe that the girl would be so stupid, self - sacrificing and kind to give the food she could have sustained herself with to a complete stranger who she didn’t know. It was absolutely an act of stupidity to Kaz and yet it moved and touched Kaz in a way it had not before. Ketterdam was a city known for cruelty and exploitation with darkness of the hearts spreading through it like a disease but this girl had proven that her heart was a ray of sunshine, the kindness and goodness in her soul was still not snatched by this city even though she faced the worst trials of adversity. 

Kaz felt himself transported to his childhood where Jordie and him were completely poor and hungry. How different would their lives have been if there had been someone like her, someone who had been willing to share and listen to their woes and someone who had been completely good and kind to them without expectations and conditions. 

Kaz thought of your hungry eyes and cold figure. He knew you had wanted those waffles. He knew that you could have eaten all of those waffles and even more but instead you chose to give it to a little boy who was hungrier and colder than you were. 

Perhaps your act of goodness stirred something in his cold heart because Kaz inquired “Are you still hungry?”

“I’m always ‘ungry. But it ain’t half that bad now.”

Kaz was inspired by your little act of goodness that was enormous in his eyes as the next few words slipped his mouth “Go to the Crow Club and tell them Kaz Brekker sent you to be looked after by Inej Ghafa. She’ll help you get yourself warm and give you something to eat.”

The little urchin got up and obeyed because he didn’t care what was happening or what happened next as long as he was given a place where warmth and food was supplied. As Kaz looked at the little urchin leaving, he realized that he had done this for your sake and he decided to follow you because now he had started to see you, he couldn’t stop. 

Kaz found himself at the Van Eck household where he saw you entering it with baskets and parcels in your hands, completely exhausted. 

Kaz hid among the bushes having a good vantage point to see everything going on as he saw Van Eck accompanied by his son, both of them dressed in warm clothing as they sat at a table full of warm food with books scattered on it as Van Eck who was in a foul temper scolded the quiet son. 

When you entered the garden, you ran into Van Eck who was already in a savage temper as he snapped “Where were you? You have been wasting time, lingering out and about for hours.”

Kaz noticed how tired you looked but you still managed to reply faintly and politely “It was wet and muddy. It was hard to walk because my shoes were so bad and slippery.”

“Do not lie. You shall go without dinner tonight.” stated Van Eck savagely while his son turned quite pale. 

“I have had nothing to eat since this week.” Kaz heard you reply in a faint and low voice and felt himself tremble in savage anger. 

“Then all the better! You shall have no breakfast, lunch or dinner tomorrow either! That will teach you how to behave like a proper servant!” 

Kaz was certain you were trembling in hunger and cold as you grew pale and on the verge of breaking down when the son spoke up softly yet boldly “Father, please! She’s just a girl. You cannot starve -”

Van Eck slapped his son so hard that the boy nearly stumbled back and you gasped in horror and fear while Kaz watched in curiosity “You will speak when you are spoken to! Have you no pride? She is not a girl, she is a servant and she will be treated as so! Truly, Wylan, you disappoint me with that soft heart of yours. Go to your room and think about yourself. Have you never thought of what I think of you and try to become someone that I can be proud of?”

Wylan’s eyes were misty but it was your face that caught Van Eck’s attention. It had caught Kaz’ attention too for your face was serious and solemn, quiet and sad as you fixed your eyes on Van Eck who glared at you fiercely. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kaz’ eyes were on you as you stood steadfast and fearless in front of Van Eck as you answered quietly “I was thinking.”

By the expression on Van Eck’s face, Kaz realized that he had dealt with situations like this with you before as he demanded “Thinking of what? Beg my pardon for thinking.”

“I shall not beg your pardon for thinking.” you replied honestly as Kaz’ looked at you, your expression serious and sad as you replied quietly “I was thinking of what my father would think and do if he knew where I was today.”

Kaz’ saw Van Eck go red and then a dangerous purple as he flew at you and shook you violently, slapping your cheek and boxing your ears as you gasped in pain from the endless blows you received as Van Eck ignored Wylan’s protests as he snapped “You insolent child! How dare you be so impolite to your employer!”

There was a fire of fury that ignited in Kaz as he watched you take the blows in agony and pain as you hid back your tears. When Van Eck was finished with you, your cheeks were red and smarting and there was a slight wound from the blows you received but Kaz’ felt curious and awed as he saw your eyes were bright as stars as you let out a little amused laugh that shocked Van Eck who saw that you were not frightened by him. 

Kaz felt curiosity stir as he watched you in amazement as you laughed and then bobbed a mocking curtesy “Excuse me for laughing if it is impolite but I cannot help it when there is a clown in front of me.”

Kaz couldn’t help but grin at her daring sassiness as she ran away leaving Van Eck struggling with his rage and Wylan hiding a small smile as his eyes lingered on her vanishing figure. 

That day, as Kaz sat in his office in the Slat, he thought of your tight and pinched face, your starved and hungry eyes that held determination and thoughtfulness in them and your quiet polite manners and daring bravery. Kaz was fascinated by you from the moment he had seen you. You reminded him of a girl in his childhood. You were vastly different from this girl but yet there was something about you that reminded him of the girl back in his village Lij. 

Everyone called her the Little Empress. She was the daughter of a rich and respected man who was a businessman in Ketterdam. Her father kept her in the grand mansion and there were many stories and rumors about her and her dangerous father that Jordie used to tell Kaz to pass the time because Kaz was fascinated by the fairytale life they lived. Kaz remembers the times he did catch rare glimpses of her and believed that the name Little Empress fitted her. 

Kaz had seen her traveling in a carriage with her father as she held onto his arm. Kaz had seen her hand in hand with her father, surrounded by elegant governesses and intimidating men and women as they walked through the village commanding respect. Kaz’ eyes widened in awe and wonder every time he glimpsed her, for she looked very pretty and beautiful in her velvet dresses trimmed with furs, lace and satin dresses with puffed sleeves, lovely hats, ermine coats and muffs and tiny gloves that fitted her little hands, handkerchiefs and silk stockings that Kaz heard the villagers whisper that the little girl had a wardrobe that was much too grand for a child of seven. Kaz had learned the father was a gangster from his father but fond of his little girl and wanted his child to have everything he admired and everything he admired himself. Jordie murmured that though she had everything, the little girl was not spoiled because once Jordie had bumped into her on an errand and when she had seen Jordie cold and shivering, she had offered her silk scarf and her cloak and insisted on buying him a hot meal and food for his family as well. Kaz had never spoken to the Little Empress but all he knew of her is that she lived grandly with a gangster father who spoiled her, governesses who taught her everything she needed to know and people who protected her. 

Though Kaz barely remembers much of his life in his village, one of the memories he does remember is meeting the gangster, the father of the Little Empress who visited their farm to buy a horse for his daughter. Kaz’ father knew the gangster through casual acquaintance for both men had fondness and affection for horses and greeted the gangster excited about finding a horse for his daughter. They both walked around as Kaz’ father talked about the special qualities of each horse but the gangster was waiting for the right horse. 

Kaz and Jordie left their village after their father’s death and a week after that, they heard that the gangster’s house was burned to ashes with everyone in it and there was no possibility of any survivors. Kaz had thought of the Little Empress burning in the fire and had felt a pit of sadness grow at the thought of the gangster and the pretty Little Empress dying in the fire. Their faces were now blurry to him but he still remembered the excitement and amazement he felt every time he caught a glimpse of her. 

You were not like the Little Empress at all. You were dirty, shabby, poor and worn out. But there was something in your manner that reminded him of the Little Empress. Something bold and kind, smart and resilient that impressed Kaz who was lost in thoughts of you. 

Kaz kept an eye out for you but after a while, you stopped passing by the Slat and Crow Club with parcels and baskets in your arms. Kaz waited for you to pass by the Slat and Crow Club but as days went by, your presence did not grace them and the Dregs felt worried about the girl who was not a beggar. Kaz hid all the worry as he sent Inej to look out for you but you had disappeared from Ketterdam. Kaz felt something in him sink in dark pain when Inej bought back the news that she couldn’t find you anywhere as he realized that you had not survived the cruelty and mercilessness of Ketterdam. After your disappearance, the Van Eck boy mysteriously disappeared as well. Though Kaz, Inej and Jesper searched valiantly for you, their efforts were in vain because you were nowhere to be found and no one knew of where you were. 

After many months after your disappearance, Kaz Brekker who was working on a heist regarding taking down one of the prominent gangs that abducted young children heard stories and rumors of an infamous spy and an intelligent detective who could find anyone no matter how far they ran and how hard they tried to hide away from the rest of the world. This spy was a shadow, an enigma and a mystery that had no name but many people in Ketterdam owed their lives to this spy because this spy would take any job given to them and do it successfully with style. This was a unique spy different from the ones who dominated Ketterdam. This spy took on cases of murder, missing children, abusive households, exposing corruption and helped people with their skillset. The stories and rumors boasted of a spy who was dangerous, uncatchable, intelligent and always one step ahead of those who thought they had the spy in a trap. 

Kaz searched for this ruthless and smart spy endlessly because it was rumored they were working on the same case as him and secondly their skillset could be valuable to him. Finally, you got into a fight with one of the Dregs leaving him seriously injured. Kaz who had seen the injuries on his Dreg decided to find you once and for all as he send Inej, Jesper and Nina to inquire and found out that you occasionally hung out at a particular pub where people knew your identity but protected you. He learned that you went by name Pandora Silvertongue in the profession.   

Kaz remembered stepping into the bar that belonged to the boy with unruly hair that had been kind to you that day. The boy had now upgraded his bar to a dining and drinking pub where the patrons were drinking and eating, laughing and singing like strangled cats while the boy smiled as he poured them more drinks. 

When the boy with unruly hair saw Kaz, Inej and Jesper enter, his eyes widened in recognition and fear and Kaz announced in a steely voice that was not to be challenged “Is there anyone named Pandora Silvertongue?” 

Everyone was quiet in fear and fright as no one dared to breath and Jesper took one of his revolvers and shot it to the air startling the patrons who screamed in fear as Kaz announced once again with authority “I said is there anyone named Pandora Silvertongue?”

The private room of the bar opened up as a girl with a spring in her step, color in her cheeks stepped out calmly as her eyes glinted with understanding and fearlessness. Kaz’, Inej’ and Jesper’s  eyes widened in shock and amazement as they recognized you, the girl who was not a beggar who they had thought disappeared from Ketterdam but here you were alive and well. 

Kaz could feel his breath quicken as his eyes never left you who was dressed in a fine dark blue dress as you looked at the Crows and then at the bartender with authority that you commanded naturally “Steve, get them a drink. Everyone else go home.”

Everyone obeyed your command as they immediately stumbled out of the bar. You seated yourself at a table carelessly and elegantly without extending an invitation to the Crows to join you because you showed no signs of fearing them while Steve poured fine whisky for all of them as you had ordered. 

When Steve finished pouring the drinks, you looked at the bartender with a quiet gleam in your eyes “You go home.”

“But -”

“I said go home.” you said in a calm and quiet voice but everyone understood you shouldn’t be challenged as Steve cast a good protective and concerned look at you and scuttled to the back. 

You lit a cigarette airily and carelessly as you looked at Kaz Brekker as if he was nothing special who was still recovering from his shock and Jesper broke the silence with a grin “The girl who is not a beggar! It’s you! We were so worried about you! We thought you had died - or disappeared but you look so awesome!”

You smiled slightly but before you could reply, Kaz spoke sharply in a hard tone “So I suppose you are the infamous Pandora Silvertongue because you are looking up and down at me like you aren’t afraid of me.”

You merely smiled as you replied calmly and quietly taking a puff of your cigarette “I want to know what you want, Mr. Brekker.”

But before Kaz could say anything, Jesper jumped in “We’re so glad you are alright. We were worried about you, you know? I mean, we used to make up stories and theories about who you were. You probably don’t remember me -”

“Jesper Fahey from the Crow Club.” you said with a genuine smile as you nodded at him “I never forget anyone who has been kind to me. Thank you for being warm and kind on one of the many dark days I had.”

“Oh... it was nothing.”

“No, it was something. It was something extraordinary.” you replied with a genuinely warm and grateful smile as Jesper felt appreciated and happy. 

“I want to know what you want, Mr. Brekker.” you replied calmly and quietly as you took a puff of your cigarette. “What are you doing here?”

“Your name is Pandora Silvertongue. In the past few months, you have earned a reputation for being a dangerous spy and an intelligent detective who no one can hide anything from. You also tutor Ketterdam students. You’ve made yourself more enemies than friends. You’re in danger.” informed Kaz calmly with a deadpanned expression as he gazed at you skeptically and perceptively. 

“You’ve done your research but you are still not answering my question.” you replied in amusement as you dabbed your cigarette into the ashtray 

Kaz saw you raise your eyebrows at him and intrigue spark in your eyes as he began “A few weeks ago, someone started to capture Dregs. Not just any Dregs, female Dregs were targeted, lured into isolated areas, tortured and killed. Their eyes were gouged and hearts were ripped out and after three murders, a note was left at the fourth murder.”

You listened to Kaz who handed you the information on the murders as you looked through the papers “This is all the information we have on the killer. We’ve tried to follow and keep tabs on each Dreg but there is little progress. We need to know who the killer is so we can take him down.”

“I need to examine the bodies of the victims and visit the location of each murder to determine the behavioral patterns of the victims and murderers, preferably with one of you so I can role play and get inside their minds.” you replied thoughtfully as you flipped through each page quickly while Kaz nodded “Was the murder weapon left at the scene?”

“No. Who would be stupid enough to do that?” laughed Jesper rolling his eyes at you. 

“Killers who enjoy the thrill of the chase. To them, killing isn’t just a crime, it’s an emotional release and enjoyment.” you replied as you ran your hand through your hair, your face full of concentration and focus making you oddly attractive to Kaz “Was anything taken away from the victims when they were found?”

“Their weapons.” answered Kaz curtly 

“Well, I’ll look into everything about these girls. From their family backgrounds, traumas, how they were recruited, special skills, who they were close to and their daily routines. I also look into their autopsy reports.” you stated firmly as you closed the file and looked at an unreadable Kaz, a hopeful Inej and amazed Jesper who listened attentively to you and you were silent for a few moments as you read the note “But I can tell you this about the killer from the note.”

Kaz leaned slightly forward in interest as he waited in anticipation “Did you ever wonder why there was a note left on the fourth murder? It’s because the first three killings didn’t get the attention he wanted it to. So, to get the glory and revel in it, the killer left the note. What he doesn’t know is... he also left clues as to how to find him.”

Kaz raised his eyebrows because he couldn’t quite believe you had found clues regarding the killer so soon but he nodded at you to continue. 

“From what you told me about the killer, he is not confident enough to initiate social contact so he lures them into isolation. Look at the letters, the style of writing - not confident enough but charming enough to be trustworthy. Emotional indicators are analyzed through slants. The writer’s handwriting shows signs of emotional repression and violence. And the pressure if you look closely is excessively heavy which shows that he is uptight hiding trauma and can easily overreact with excessive violence.” you stated in one breath as you gestured to the handwriting in the letter while Kaz looked at you in hidden wonder and admiration, impressed by your intelligence. 

Jesper was the first one to find his tongue “You got all that from his handwriting?”

“Handwriting is an indicator of personality and behavior. It symbolizes your emotions at the given time just like your facial expressions parallel the way you are feeling and speaking.” you replied smartly while Kaz processed this new information “But the interesting thing about this note is - it’s a line from a Kaelish poem. It says ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, tell no more lies about who you are.’”

Inej looked at Kaz and Jesper and then at you thoughtfully as she offered “So then, we are looking for someone Kaelish, well versed in literature, educated, narcistic and organized?”

You looked at Kaz confidently and smartly, with a grim glint in your eyes “I would cut off Kaelish. This person wants you to narrow it down to Kaelish people. Right now, you are looking for someone who knows the language of Kaelish, who is well - versed in literature, violent when provoked, smart and organized and charming and trustworthy and someone who needs to be in control. This was a person all these three girls knew and trusted... and maybe, it’s someone you know too. Someone who knows the procedures of the Dregs and how things work in there. This was someone who stalked each girl, observed the times she did everything, places she went to, people she talked to and organized the crime accordingly.” 

“So we cannot eliminate the possibility that it might be one of the Dregs.” replied Kaz calmly as he thought of the possible suspects and the people who the three girls had in common. 

“No. In fact, I believe you might have even met the killer, perhaps offering condolences for the deaths of the girls or trying to help in any way they can to find them. Keep a sharp eye and trust no one.” you replied sharply and grimly and then after a long moment of silence, your lips curved into a smile “How do you feel about the violin?”

Kaz, Jesper and Inej exchanged surprised glances because that was the last question they expected “What?”

“Well, I play the violin when I’m thinking. Will that be a problem? I also need a large space to pace about, I’m a coffee addict and I don’t talk for days on end and sometimes I talk to myself because I’m the only one in the room who makes sense. Will that bother you? Potential colleagues should know the worst about each other.” you stated easily and calmly with a charming and sweet smile as you finished the last of your whisky. 

Jesper and Inej exchanged amused glances at how Kaz looked surprised at you taking charge and twisting the conversation to surprise him as he replied “Colleagues? Who said anything about becoming a Dreg?”

“I did. Told Nina Zenik day before yesterday over waffles that I must be a difficult and dangerous woman to work with because Pekka Rollins’ has his eye on me because I just took down one of the slavers. Now here her employer is... Kaz Brekker, the Lieutenant of the Dregs, the owner of the Crow Club, clearly wanting to get to me before Rollins does by testing me to see if I am worthy of his time and investment and lives up to Zenik’s word.” you said casually and nonchalantly as if the answer had been simple enough for anyone to understand and Kaz wondered if you had set this up on purpose as he watched you stand up and put your coat on “It isn’t really a difficult conclusion.”

Jesper grinned “I really like her.”

Inej grinned wider as she nodded “Yeah, I really like her too.”

“I’ll be in contact. I need to establish my investigation so I’ll be moving in as a bar girl and Brekker’s secretary tomorrow. That way, I can discreetly find out about what happened to the girls and who they associated with and perhaps even lure out the killer.” you replied briskly in a composed and matter - of - fact voice that Kaz did not like because he was the boss as you moved across the room swiftly “I don’t need a room, I have my own place so I won’t be around for that. I’ll meet you in the evening around at five to go check the victims and locations. Sorry, got to dash... have important things to do.”

Kaz was surprised at the nonchalance and fearlessness you held toward him and the way you treated him as your equal as he called out “Is that it?”

“Is that what?” you inquired politely as you stopped mid - step to look at Kaz in curiosity. 

“Well, we just met and now you are part of the Dregs without my permission?” replied Kaz smartly in a deadly and dangerous voice as he looked at you coldly while Inej and Jesper exchanged amused looks because Kaz seemed to have met his match.  

You didn’t seem fazed at all, in fact you seemed surprised and amused “Problem?”

“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we are meeting this evening and I suspect Pandora Silvertongue isn’t your real name.” replied Kaz smoothly and smartly as he raised his eyebrows at her with a smirk because he had to admit she had the nerve and daring combined with her intelligence and curiosity which felt oddly attractive to Kaz. 

“I know you are the Lieutenant of the Dregs, Kaz Brekker. I know you sent the Wraith to follow me yesterday. I know that Per Haskell is a puppet and you are the puppet master who one day hopes to be the leader of the Dregs but is waiting for the opportune moment. I know that you are an orphaned farm boy who was raised outside of Ketterdam in a village judging by the hint of the rural accent that is audible under your Kerch. I know you came to Ketterdam with someone you loved dearly -  the last of your family members - perhaps an older sibling. Since you are standing here alone, I know that your older sibling must have died in the firepox plague that overwhelmed Ketterdam but somehow you managed to survive and climb up the ladder in the streets, developing an aversion to touch, trust issues, avoidance of friendships, hyper vigilance, protectiveness toward Jesper who possibly reminds of your sibling by the way you look at him and reprimand him and hunger for revenge. You think the world is out to get you and you are distrustful of every single person you come into contact with because you were let down by someone you cared about. You like to think you are detached from weakness but you do care... and the reason I know that is you permanently marked yourself with that tattoo on your wrist... R... it stands for something personal... perhaps a name of someone you care about with love or hate... a reminder to you. I know that you like to pretend you are different from the rest of the criminals in the Barrel by dressing up in black like a mercher and distinguishing yourself away from them but the gloves - they hide something - perhaps your touch aversion? I know your limp is psychosomatic. And just one mention of Pekka Rollins, your face is filled with hatred but you are not competing with him for power - no, your eyes are filled with revenge. It’s personal and you intend to be the last man standing.” 

Kaz’ eyes widened as you began your explanation and analysis of him and he felt completely exposed and slightly frightened when you deducted and observed his weaknesses and shames that the world did not see because he hid it so well from them. Kaz couldn’t breath as he listened to you cleverly and calmly rattle out facts about him that no one else knew but seemed completely transparent and obvious to you and when you finished, Kaz’ knees were slightly wobbly and his grip on his cane was tight as he looked at you with something akin to fear and reverence in his heart. 

Inej and Jesper exchanged slightly anxious looks as they looked at Kaz who had gone completely pale and you grinned and winked at the three of them “That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think? The name’s Pandora Silvertongue until you’ve earned my real name and meet me in front of the Church of Ghezen!”

Kaz had been shaken to the core and had wondered how you knew about these personal things. The next time he had met you to help you with your investigate, he had been completely cold and threatening as he demanded how you found out his secrets but you simply explained your observations that had led you to conclude your deductions about him. Those observations were sharp and clever, things that the rest of the world were stupid enough to ignore and it had shocked Kaz you were clever and sharp enough to pick up on those little things. 

Though Kaz hadn’t liked how you had first approached him, he understood your value as a person and a member of the Dregs immediately. He knew that he could not let you go because there were a dozen more powerful and cruel men who were willing to get their hands on you and use you unkindly to their advantage. Kaz had enough information on the city to know that Pekka Rollins had a keen eye on your talents and wanted you all to himself. And Kaz was not going to let a dangerous and talented girl like you be Pekka’s property. 

“That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think? The name’s Pandora Silvertongue until you've earned my real name and meet me in front of the Church of Ghezen!”

You worked undercover as a bargirl and Kaz’ secretary for two weeks in the Crow Club and the Slat. Kaz noticed that you wasted no time in charming everyone and making friends with people who warmed up to you and opened their hearts, confiding their deepest and darkest secrets to you. You were an efficient and effective hard worker who never gave anyone reason to doubt that you were a spy as you observed and worked on the case. There were times you would drive Kaz crazy with your endless playing of the violin at midnight when you needed to think, your coffee addiction that was worse than his and you muttering under your breath, spouting completely random but interesting facts that surprised everyone out of nowhere and sometimes completely zoning out lost in thought ignoring his presence. Kaz found it truly annoying and exasperating but Inej, Nina and Jesper who were slightly patient with you found it amusing that Kaz had found someone worse than him. 

Through his time with you,  Kaz couldn’t believe you were real. Whenever you presented developments in the investigation, there were somethings such an elegant intelligence and raw thought that he had never seen in anyone else. He always would be surprised by your findings because you would up with observations that no one else would think of and was surprisingly accurate. Kaz never showed it but he was in awe of your intelligence and wondered where you had trained your mind to be like this and learned all these things. 

You had found the killer soon enough and suspected that Anika would be the next target. What you hadn’t expected the killer to do was twist his plan and take Inej hostage. Kaz and Jesper had set out to find the killer with the Dregs with your help and you were ordered to stay out of the line of fighting. But the killer had been too smart for Kaz and Jesper planning own traps for them forcing them to watch when he tried to torture Inej under the impression that Inej was Pandora Silvertongue. 

Jesper was full on panicking “PLEASE! LET HER GO! SHE’S NOT PANDORA SILVERTONGUE!”

The killer laughed as he looked at Jesper who was trying to break free “I don’t believe you.”

“You should you know. Pandora Silvertongue is nothing like her.” came a cocky and confident voice out of the dark shadows alarming everyone and getting the attention of the killer.

Inej let out a gasp, Jesper looked around in amazement and shock at your voice that had echoed out of the darkness and Kaz swore his heart jumped out of his chest in alarm and relief with overwhelming emotion that he could not describe. 

“How would you describe her, Mr. Brekker? Beautiful? Intelligent? Resourceful?” your voice asked from the distinct darkness as Kaz had tried to look around trying to search where you possibly might be hiding. 

Kaz had muttered “Disobedient.”

The killer who was one of the new Dregs grinned maniacally “Then you know what I want, don’t you, Silvertongue?”

You had answered as you had taken down one man through the darkness “I believe I do.”

The killer was maniacal at this point as he called out for you as he flashed his knife with a grin when you had appeared out of nowhere and hit the killer with a large brick on his head making the killer fall onto the floor in an unconscious heap as you had rolled your eyes at the killer “Moron.”

You had saved Inej, Jesper and Kaz in time much to their relief. Kaz had seen enough proof that you were worthy of being in the Dregs and offered you a position of the spy in part of the Dregs. You had accepted and from then on, the Crow Club and the Slat had become your home. You had become a loyal ally, a talented spy who was excellent at your job and a close friend to Kaz. Soon Kaz trusted you with the most important missions that you completed brilliantly, valued you as an important part of the Crows and began to see you as a close friend who he liked. 

Kaz prided himself on being someone who had a control over his emotions. After all, he was the most feared man in Ketterdam and his stoic and cold nature required a certain level of control. But when Kaz was with you, he felt something warm flood within him whenever you smiled at him reassuringly and teasingly, he found himself becoming a boy who craved to feel the flutter of his heart whenever you laughed at his dark and dry sense of humor, the reassurance he felt when you stayed up late with him planning heists and cleaning messes after parties. He found his eyes searching for you in the crowded Crow Club and lingering on you for a moment too long as he gazed at your charming and charismatic demeanor that enchanted him. He found your company enjoyable as both of you walked the streets of Ketterdam from the harbor to the marketplace to the Slat and you chatted enthusiastically about anything on your mind as he found himself listening in fondness as he memorized the expressions of your face. He looked forward to the nights where both of you would sit on the roof together gazing at the view of Ketterdam and looking up at the stars as you both shared bottles of whisky and laughed and confided your insecurities, wildest dreams, deepest secrets and untold thoughts to each other as he felt a connection of understanding and trust he had never felt with anyone else. 

Kaz remembered when one day Jesper had dragged him to one of his games where they had to disguise themselves and fool as many Dregs as possible. Kaz and you had been friendly competitive rivals as Kaz promised to beat you in the game. But he had been destroyed when he had only managed to fool two Dregs and you had managed to fool around ten Dregs with your disguise and cover story. 

Kaz walked toward you who was drinking as he scowled “I blew it. I only got through two Dregs.”

“Woah! I got to ten.” you had replied with a playful and sympathetic grin as you looked at him. 

“I can’t believe I lost this stupid game! I was so excited for this. What happened?” exclaimed Kaz as he sat next to you wearing a scowl as he looked completely frustrated. 

“Well, maybe you being excited is what happened. Like every time we’re planning heists, you’re always super intelligent, you take your time, you stay calm and examine every possibility. But every time we do dumb games like this, you get excited and act like a crazy idiot. My advice... don’t act like a crazy idiot.” you replied with an insightful and thoughtful smile as you looked at Kaz with a soft glimmer in your eyes.  

Kaz was surprised at your answer that made him think because it made sense at how perceptive and true it was “Thanks. That was surprisingly wise.”

“Yeah well, motherhood really opens a woman’s eyes. I finally feel as if I’m finally part of something bigger than myself.” you had dramatically said as you touched your fake pregnant belly that was part of your disguise in the game while Kaz rolled his eyes at you and slapped the fake belly in exasperation. 

You placed a protective hand on your fake belly as you gasped dramatically “Hey don’t you dare touch Kazper Jr! That’s right! It’s your baby!”

Kaz had to stop himself from laughing outright as he played along “Are you saying I knocked you up?”

“You sure did!”

Kaz liked it when you were with him. With the rest of the world, he knew you were a gold rush. Everybody wanted to have a taste of you and wanted to know what it would be like to love you. Kaz couldn’t keep his eyes off you because you were an inviting temptation as you flirted and talked with the people with such charismatic and charming sweetness that he felt a flicker of twisted jealousy that crushed him. But when you were with Kaz, though you still teased him with that charming twinkle in your eyes, you displayed a soft sense of vulnerability you never showed to the rest of the world. There was a softness and sweet sincerity in you that you gave Kaz that you never showed the rest of the world and before he could stop himself, Kaz had opened himself and showed his deepest and darkest parts baring himself vulnerable and you had accepted and loved him unconditionally. 

Kaz knew he felt something special for you, something that he never felt for anyone else and something that he couldn’t afford to feel for you in this world. In this world, sentiment was the greatest weakness and it would be used against him by the countless number of enemies who he had made on his way to greatness. So he tried to keep a distance from you as much as he could but there were times he was just drawn to you and he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in your company and worrying about you. 

Before the Ice Court, Kaz had promised Nina that he’d keep an eye on Matthias. So as he searched for Dregs who could infiltrate Hellgate, befriend Matthias and protect him, you had volunteered eagerly. But Kaz had turned down your suggestion feeling something akin to terror of losing you to the darkness and cruelty of Hellgate but when he realized that there was no one else he could truly trust and that you were not backing down from this assignment, he had reluctantly sent you into Hellgate to spy on Matthias. Your absence had been absolutely maddening as the Slat felt cold and empty without you and he worried about your wellbeing in Hellgate. When the chance to break into the Ice Court had arrived, he had seized the opportunity to break you out along with Matthias. 

Kaz remembered when he had reunited with you after your year in Hellgate. You looked completely different, grown up as if you had lived through darkness and survived to tell the tale. But the kind twinkle in your pained eyes was still there as Kaz finally caught up with you and found himself smiling genuinely in relief as he had said “Can I get a free woman a drink?”

The grin you had given him reassured his heavy heart that despite the pain you had endured, you were still completely in sync with him as you said the words he had wanted to say “I missed you, Kaz Brekker.”

You had been by his side through the Ice Court Heist and watched him take down Pekka Rollins as he enjoyed his vengeance on the man who had destroyed his life.

Kaz remembered the aftermath of celebrations when they had overthrown Pekka Rollins and taken Ketterdam to themselves. He had stood with bruises that didn’t seem to hurt but felt victorious and triumphant as he heard Nina, Inej, Wylan, Matthias and you celebrate with Jesper who announced loudly to the Dregs.

“Alright everyone! Pekka Rollins is history, we are absolute legends and we can finally walk freely around Ketterdam!” exclaimed Jesper in an absolutely celebratory mood, feeling blissful as he looked at the Crows who were grinning madly “Who wants waffles?”

You had grinned at Jesper’s infectious mood but had approached Kaz who was staring out of the window at the view of Ketterdam as you looked at Kaz “Hey, you alright? You did it. You finally got your vengeance on Pekka Rollins. 

Kaz’ lips twitched into a small smile as relief and victory blossomed in his chest at his accomplishment and looked at you curiously because he knew if you didn’t have such faith and optimism, he couldn’t have done it “How do you do it Y/N? Keep hoping. Hope is dangerous and it clouds your judgement. And yet after everything you’ve gone through, after everything that happened, everything I did... how did you still manage to hope that it could all work out?”

You smiled gently as your eyes gleamed knowingly and sincerely as you looked at him softly “Because of you. You don’t realize it, Kaz... but you’re actually the most hopeful person I’ve ever met.”

Kaz’ eyes widened as his breath hitched at her unexpected words that he was completely taken aback by as he stared at you in disbelief and surprise seeing only the truth and kindness etched on your face as you said honestly “From the day you crawled out of that harbor having lost everything you ever loved, everyone assumed your place in the world was in the bottom as the weak and lonely, a boy who was defined by loss. But you wished for more. You dared to dream and hope as you worked to climb your way up and gain the power. You dared to hope to succeed in the craziest heists and became someone who everyone feared. You dared to hope to bring down the man who was responsible for your brother’s death.” 

Kaz felt breathless at how you saw him and you smiled at him brightly “Now it’s all over. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

Kaz’ lips curled into a soft smile as he looked at you hopefully “I guess in the end, there really is no end. Just new beginnings.” 

You had tended to his injuries patiently with tenderness and kindness he did not deserve. You had saved his life countless times from taking your first gunshot that was meant for him and committing your first murder as you killed a man in cold blood to protect him. 

You had stood by his side through every questionable decision and defended him when you disagreed with him. You had been loyal to him even when he had pushed you away and lashed out at you in a cruel manner. You weren’t afraid to pushing and telling him when he was wrong and cruel with the stubborn and fiery look in your eyes. You had seen his lawless demons and dangerous ghosts that haunted him but had understood him and helped him work through it. You had seen him as the darkest demon who was dangerous and cruel and yet loved the monster within him. You knew about how he struggled with touch from the very beginning but never questioned or mocked it but simply allowed Kaz to take it slow as he started it with simple fleeting brushing of shoulders to soft fingers interlocking with each other and holding hands to the feeling of being close to you without drowning in the waters. 

You were unlike any other woman he had ever met. 

Kaz sighed as he buried his head in his hands as he remembered when it all went wrong. He had an important mission that required him to retrieve information and steal a valuable documents from the vault hidden in a highly guarded mansion of one of the merchers in Ketterdam. The mercher had a reputation for throwing lavish parties to make connections and relationships so Kaz had decided to ask you to be his pretend wife so they could disguise themselves as guests and get into the vault. 

Kaz’s eyes had flickered toward you when you had entered into his office. He had pretended to be busy but the truth was you had a way of making him painfully aware of every breath you took and every smile you flashed as you brought a warm light into his cold life and he informed you of what he needed. You had grown completely silent and your smile had vanished slightly concerning Kaz who raised his eyebrows at you waiting for your answer.

“No.” you had replied curtly and crisply as you had looked away from Kaz. “Ask Inej or Nina. Or -”

“Y/N... I want you.” Kaz had replied softly as he had slipped out of his seat and stood in front of you “You and I work well together. We make a good team together. And you are the only one I trust for this.” 

His gloved fingers had brushed against yours as he looked deeply at you waiting for your answer and you had surprised him as you smiled at him warmly as red dust scattered on your cheeks and you replied “Ask me properly and I might say yes.”

Kaz had smiled genuinely as he watched you walk away. Later, you were working late into the night with him as both of you were looking through information on a mercher that Kaz wanted to rob. Both of you dug into boxes of information that you had found of books, letters, documents, and photographs of the mercher’s life. As Kaz and you sat side by side enjoying the comforting silence of the moment, and Kaz found a photograph of two lovers laughing on the porch of their old house. It felt hard to explain but in that photograph, he saw himself and you living that life.

You had looked over at him with a small smile as your eyes flickered at the photograph “They look very happy. They must have loved each other very much.”

Kaz looked at you and he felt time stand still as he couldn’t find the right words to describe how he felt in that moment with you as he felt breathless staring into your enchanting and warm eyes and finally broke the silence as he asked “Y/N, do you want to dance with me?”

You had blushed but your smile was answer enough as you had accepted his gloved hand. Kaz’ lips twitched into a smile as he felt your hand rest upon his gently and your other arm holding onto his shoulder gently as he ran his hand softly along your waist and placed it on the small of your back. His breath hitched as he looked at your tender and sweet eyes that twinkled brilliantly as both of you began to dance around the room to the slow and romantic music echoing from downstairs as the rain splattered outside. 

At first, Kaz hated that he was nervous and clumsy tripping over himself and stepping on your toes. He was the Bastard of the Barrel who had humiliated and overthrown Pekka Rollins and now ruled Ketterdam inspiring fear with intimidation and violence and yet he couldn’t properly dance with the girl he possibly liked. 

You had grinned brightly much to Kaz’ mortification at his mistakes as he stepped on your toes once again and you offered “Hey, do you want me to teach you how to do this so you don’t hurt me or possibly yourself?”

Kaz had flushed a bright red in mortification as he had nodded “Yes.”

“Hold your back straight. Now you will lead and I will follow. And now one, two, three...” you began softly with a tender and encouraging smile as you let Kaz guide you across the floor and much to his surprise as Kaz followed the gentle hum of your words, Kaz found himself dancing without causing you any grievous injuries. 

Kaz felt his breath hitch and his heart race as he danced with you smoothly and his eyes flickered down to ensure his feet were not going to hurt you when you instructed him gently “Look into my eyes. Dancing is seeing one another for who they really are, understanding and trusting each other. That’s why I love it.”

Kaz had looked into your eyes and had seen you who had always been there for him through thick and thin and had changed him in the most unimaginable ways as he murmured softly “I see you.”

You had sucked in a breath as your eyes had grown wide but you had smiled softly and joyfully “You dance incredibly.”

“All because I have a talented teacher.” replied Kaz smoothly with a soft smile as he spun you around as you chuckled. 

Kaz had never felt so light-hearted and happy as he spun you around and held you in his arms as both of danced perfectly together in harmony. Kaz knew it felt foolish to give in so easily to how he was feeling but in this moment, he didn’t care as light and humor danced in his eyes feeling weightless, all the burdens and worries he carried washed away as he held you in his arms as you glowed in happiness and laughter. 

Kaz felt free and weightless laughing in delight as you spun him around as you laughed in amusement, breaking rules of dancing but he didn’t care because he knew this moment with you was right and wanted this forever. He couldn’t let go of this perfect moment where the stars had aligned and everything felt just good to be true as Kaz spun you around and dipped you down, his hand supporting your back, stopping you from falling. You held onto his shoulder trusting him to hold you and never let you fall and break. Kaz pulled you up once as you held onto his gloved hand and his nose brushed against your forehead swaying to the soft and romantic song echoing through the Slat as both of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. 

“Y/N...” murmured Kaz as his eyes fluttered open, memorizing every inch of your face and committing you to memory afraid you would vanish if he let you go “Will you marry me and make me the happiest man on earth?” 

Your heart rate escalated through the roof and your eyes had widened in surprise as you stared at him in speechless amazement as he took out a ring that had a crow with a R engraved on it as he held your hand tightly in his “Marry me, Y/N and be my partner in crime for life.”

Kaz saw you chuckle and smile at him as you nodded “Yes. I’ll be your partner in crime for life, Kaz Brekker.”

“Kaz Rietvald.” confessed Kaz softly, his voice barely a whisper as he looked at you vulnerably “Kaz Rietvald is my real name. The name of the boy who came to Ketterdam with hopes of making it with his brother. The name of the boy who died in the harbor that day.”

You had looked at him with understanding and sincerity as he swallowed a lump of emotion and confessed “But when I’m with you... I feel like Kaz Rietvald once again. The boy who believed in magic and beauty of the world.”

“Kaz...” you had murmured as you looked at the ring that held great meaning for you now and then at Kaz with so much you wanted to say to him but he shook his head as he placed a soft and fleeting kiss on your hand. 

“Y/N...” he whispered as he slipped the ring onto your hand with his own trembling hands and then placed a sweet and tender kiss on your forehead “You are the reason.”

The reason that he was alive. The reason that he still felt alive. The reason that he looked forward to waking up every day. The reason that he paid attention to all the magical little things you did. The reason he felt worry whenever you were hurt and wounded. The reason that he dared to dream once again. 

From there on, Kaz had felt connected to you in a way that he hadn’t before. He had wanted to practice perfecting the image of pretending to be an engaged couple so he encouraged both of you to do little things that couples do. But it was easy to forget that Kaz was pretending when he hid sincere love notes inside your room, replaced the wilting flowers in your room with your favorite flowers and left little gifts for you. It was easy for Kaz to forget that you were not his to lose when he found little notes filled with jokes and small affirmations inside his files, his favorite books annotated with your thoughts and sentences highlighted that reminded you of him, flowers pressed to the pages.

It was easy to get lost in the act of being your husband when he exchanged knowing and lingering glances with you in secret, whenever he would feel the twisted dark feeling of jealousy when he saw any man look at you in the wrong way, when you bought coffee made exactly how he liked it in the mornings and when he was working late. It was easy to forget that you weren’t his lover when both of you worked late until night, your head resting on his lap as he ran his hand through your hair smiling down at you as you read your books, when he listened to you play the violin, when he shared meals with you and cuddled with you relishing the comfortable silence and teasing each other and confiding his secrets in you.

It was easy to forget that you were not his wife when he had seen you laughing in amusement, your eyes gleaming brightly and his lips had met yours passionately and tenderly as time stood still and his heart beat violently out of his ribcage when you had kissed him back with equal tenderness and desire. It was easy to forget that this was all just an act when he would indulge in the pleasure of nipping your earlobe and placing a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck and collarbone taking his time to taste you and feel your body tremble underneath his touch. 

It was easy to forget it all because you were easy to fall in love with deeply and madly until it was too late for him to back out. 

When the day came for the party, he had dressed up and you appeared in front of him making him speechless as his eyes widened because you were a breathtaking sight to behold. You were wearing an off the shoulder satin long emerald green dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You were wearing simple pearl earrings, your hair braided into loose waves and your cheeks pink and your lips ruby red as you smiled at Kaz. 

Kaz had placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you away and whispered into your ear “You look beautiful.”

You had blushed when you felt his lips brush against the nape of your neck as you squeezed his hand gently “You don’t look so bad yourself”

At the party, everyone was full of admiration for Kaz and you as a couple. Kaz and you socialized with the crowd of aristocrats, merchers and businessmen as you charmed them with your signature charisma that got enough information for Kaz. Though Kaz was not much of a social creature, he observed you morphing into the form that you needed to take in order to charm and lure your target into giving you what you wanted. 

As the time drew near for them to rob the vault, Kaz and you were talking with a few ladies and gentlemen who were very impressed with the both of you, the affectionate and loving couple and one woman had asked Kaz how he knew you were the one for him. 

Kaz had frozen at the question but his panic had disappeared as soon as it had come as he tightened his arm around your waist as he replied to his surprise with the truth of his heart “She makes me laugh. She’s smart, kind and funny and accepting of who I am. She’s truly the kind of woman who comes once in a lifetime. She’s beautiful and impossible. The way we got here was unexpected. But no matter how I think about it... we were meant to be. And the more time I spend with her, I know that I don’t want to lose her.”

Everyone cooed over the answer but you had frozen at Kaz’ answer as you looked at him in amazement and surprise but Kaz didn’t meet your eyes. The lady was insistent on knowing what you liked so much about Kaz that you knew you had to marry him. You wanted to hit that woman with the tray of champagne because she was putting you in a very awkward position at the moment. 

“He is... well, one night we were just gazing at the stars and talking when I looked over at him and it struck me that he is my closest friend. He’s awesome, intelligent, strong, brave and protects those who he cares about. How could I not want to be with him?” you had replied easily and sincerely with a tender and sweet smile shocking Kaz who had not expected such an answer that sounded terrifyingly real. 

Both of you had escaped the crowd and made it to the vault in time. You had distracted the guards while Kaz broke into the vault and took what he needed. Both of you were on the verge of an escape when both of you heard footsteps heading your way. Kaz had looked at you with desperation and desire as he had pushed you against the wall but before you could say anything, his lips were moving against yours passionately and fiercely, roughly and hungrily devouring you as his hands explored your body and sparks flew within him as you kissed him back with fierce passion and overwhelming emotion as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer toward you. 

Kaz couldn’t stop. He knew what he felt for you was a weakness. And if anything, you felt the same way about him too. And Kaz was secretly ecstatic that you felt the same way toward him. But Kaz had realized as he broke into the vault, he was a criminal. He was Kaz Brekker, the King of Ketterdam, the Bastard of the Barrel who had no weakness and who could not afford to love anyone. Kaz had realized the true harsh reality that he could never love you the way you deserve to be loved. He was not a man made for love. He was a monster created for chaos and cruelty. And you were weakening him, bringing his softer and vulnerable side that he had hidden from the world for so long. He couldn’t let it happen. As Kaz kissed you, he kissed you goodbye as he held you in his arms trying to keep you with him for a bit longer but he knew he had to end it before the world ended him. 

The guards who had been patrolling cleared their throats when they had seen you and Kaz and you had narrowly escaped their scrutiny and attention as a very handsy couple. When both of you had left the party, Kaz hardened his heart ignoring your pleasant conversation and then your inquiring questions. It didn’t take you long to notice this sudden change in Kaz who had grown cold and distant from you. 

“Kaz!” you had snapped as you shoved him getting his attention “What is wrong with you? What’s going on?”

“Y/N... I’m not your fucking husband, so stop nagging me!” snarled Kaz harshly, the softness in his eyes completely gone as he looked at you coldly “It’s over. We completed our mission. I got what I needed.”

Kaz started walking away because he didn’t want to see your fallen face when he heard your trembling voice speak up “Is that it?”

“Is that what? Did you think this was real? It was just a game... part of a mission.” replied Kaz coldly, his eyes flashing with harshness as he began to break the one thing he was falling in love with. 

“Don’t. Don’t you dare. I don’t believe you. I know you feel the same way I do, Kaz.” you had replied with a trembling and shaky voice that you tried to keep strong as you looked at him with a pained expression “You - please don’t do this. You can’t just do this to us and then run away from all these feelings because you are scared.”

“Scared? Y/N, I don’t love you. You are an investment to me.” replied Kaz cruelly and harshly shoving down the voice screaming that he was lying as he glared at you. “You are nothing to me!”

You remembered how safe you felt with Kaz and how he had always assured you that you belonged and had a home with him as you felt everything you thought you knew burn once again into ashes as your heart shattered into pieces at the words carelessly and brutally uttered by Kaz and you sucked a breath as you looked at him in disbelief and heartbreak “You don’t love me?”

Kaz answered with cold silence that rang loudly among both of you and he could hear your heart shattering into pieces and had to hold onto looking at how your once bright and happy face now fell into an expression of shocked disbelief and pained suffering as you tried to understand how your world could quickly fall apart. Kaz couldn’t bear to look at your pained expression any longer so he decided to walk away from you, to leave you alone and save himself from the pain. 

“I don’t believe you. Two hours ago, at that party, you wanted me. You were in love with me, Kaz. All these months, you made me believe we could share something special.” you called out, your voice shattered and hurt but there was a sliver of spite and anger in it that stopped him within his tracks as he closed his eyes and stiffened because he was losing you because this had to end “But we can never be that because you put yourself above everyone and within you is -”

 “Is what? A cold monstrous dark dead heart?” snapped Kaz clenching his jaw as he turned around to look at you with a dark and cold look in his eyes as he thought of how everything they had built up on a shaky ground was now falling apart “I thought you knew better by now. I don’t have a heart, Y/N.”

“Who knows? Because you never show anyone who you are!” you had spat out with tears in your eyes as you looked at Kaz with hurt and pain. “You aren’t letting me in, Kaz!”

“Nothing good comes from loving people! Everyone leaves in the end. I intend to live my life knowing that I have no weakness that my enemies will not exploit against me and knowing that I have no one who loves me mourning for me when I’m gone wishing every single moment that I would come back for them!” yelled Kaz fiercely, his eyes flashing with powerless reminiscence of a destroyed childhood and suffering that had made him monstrous as he looked at you knowing that he couldn’t afford to love you, not when he was weakened with you, not when he could never give you peace. 

“Well then, I love you! Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” you had screamed at him hysterically, tears rolling down your eyes as you felt nothing but piercing heartbreak and completely broken at how casually cruel and brutal he was being breaking you into pieces. 

Kaz’ breath hitched as he froze at your confession, his heart skipping a beat traitorously with hope and happiness but he collected himself reminding himself that both of you could never have a shot in the dark because he was too damaged to be loved by you as his lips curled into a cruel sneer “You disgust me! It’s too bad for you that I don’t love you. That you didn’t make the cut into my heart. Why would you do that to yourself?”

“You - you shouldn’t have let me in! You shouldn’t have made me feel safe with you! You shouldn’t have made me feel like I belong with you and the Dregs are my home!” you had snapped in unbearable pain that burned every inch of you as you gasped through a broken sob and looked at Kaz who looked so pretty like the devil through the tears as you slapped him “Because now it’s far too late!”

Kaz felt the sting of the slap but your words lashed across his heart more than the pain of the slap. He clenched his jaw as he felt his heart bleed in unbearable pain as he looked at you in hurt and wistfulness. He wanted to take back all his cruel words that broke you and crumpled you but he knew he couldn’t do that. 

And as Kaz looked at you, he wanted you more than anything in the world. More than all the kruge and the most beautiful paintings and precious jewels that he spent his life chasing to steal. Kaz was painfully aware of the aching desire he had to call you only his and to come home to your bright smile and tender heart every single day. Kaz wanted more than anything to hold your hand through life and death and to love you with all your scars and bruises and protect you from the rest of the world. Kaz had never felt this kind of powerful love and aching desire for anyone in his life, the kind that made him want to live each moment and love fearlessly. He wanted you so much that he was afraid that what he shared with you could bring him back to life as Kaz Rietvald or break him down.

Kaz loved you. Kaz had so much love inside him that he wanted to give you but he was terrified of how much you meant to him and what he would do to the world if you ever were hurt. As Kaz looked at the moonlight shining upon you, Kaz believed in Saints who had created the most perfect punishment fitting for him. For he was a monster, and it was only fitting for a monster never to hold and have what he loved the most in this world. 

Kaz felt you sense his reluctance and desire for you as you took his hand in yours and caressed his cheek gently as he was hypnotized by your tender eyes as he stared at the one that he loved and dreamed of as you softly and earnestly confessed “Kaz...I know you are scared. I’m terrified too. But I want you. I love you with all your flaws and scars, Kaz. Don’t give up on us. So let’s stop pretending and do this for real.”

Kaz’ breath hitched as he leaned toward you, drawn in like a moth to a flame. He could feel your breath fanning against his cheek as he inhaled in your intoxicating perfume and felt your hot skin against his lips that longed to kiss you. His eyes fluttered shut and his heart was racing inhumanely as his mind forgot to remind him that you were a bad idea. You were an addiction he couldn’t yet give up on and wanted more and more until he was completely satisfied. Kaz had an inkling he would always be wanting more of you as his hand held the nape of your neck wondering how something that was so rationally wrong could feel so perfectly right. 

He did not ask for this. He did not ask for you in his life. You were beautiful, intelligent, dynamic, wonderful and brighter than fireworks in the night sky. Kaz did not ask to be plagued by these feelings for you, to be driven to distraction every time you entered a room. 

“Say you want me like I want you maddeningly.” your voice whispered as your breath fanned his cheek, and Kaz couldn’t breath or think as he was lost in his storm of feelings for you as his lips lingered close enough toward yours eager to taste you.

But your words jolted him from this madness as he took a deep breath and stumbled back from you, realizing that he had been giving into his weaknesses and he breathed heavily trying to compose himself. What had he been thinking? What was he doing? This wasn’t fair and - this wasn’t right. Kaz ran his hand through his hair as he convinced himself that this wasn’t love, this was a distraction, a fleeting infatuation that would pass with time. You were not going to be his destruction. Kaz felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he convinced himself that he was not the one for you. You deserved someone better, someone who was not broken and damaged who would only bring you down. 

“I don’t love you. You were a pleasant distraction from my work.” replied Kaz firmly and coldly as his heart cried out at the lie but he knew it had to be done as he looked you in the eye “This isn’t a fairytale, Y/N. I am your employer and you are my Dreg. So stop being delusional and be what I need you to be and do what I need you to do.”

Then it had taken everything in Kaz to walk away leaving you alone in the dark, the masterpiece of what they had torn apart as you felt alone, tears of heartbreak and pain running down your cheeks. 

It hadn’t taken long for everyone else to notice what had gone wrong between you and Kaz. Both of you had been inseparable, never one without another and now both of you were distant and apart. Kaz kept his distance coldly and cruelly from you refusing to listen and talk to you as you tried to fight for them again and again and the brightness in your eyes began to fade away slowly as you wondered where you had gone wrong as you sat in the dark choking on your sobs dying inside of pain and heartbreak. 

Kaz didn’t know that you were trying to hold onto him as you stayed in your room. After a while, you stopped coming to see Kaz but your presence lingered with him as he heard you play the violin, vulnerable, soft and sad, melancholy heart tugging and heart breaking melodies that would float through the Slat down to the streets. The melodies you played were piercingly agonizing, beautifully emotional and reminded Kaz every single moment of the memories he had shared with you, the unconditional joy he had felt in your presence and now the sorrow that ached within him at your absence as tears sprung into his eyes. He wasn’t the only one affected by your emotional performances. One of the most toughest Dregs who was violent had burst into tears when he had heard you performing a heartbreaking farewell song. 

One day, Kaz couldn’t bear it any longer as he quietly walked toward your room as his eyes fell on you facing the window playing an achingly sad and sweet melody that touched Kaz’ cold heart feeling that your melody was a breathtaking story that never got a happy ending. 

“Is it a sad song?” asked Kaz softly as he lingered at the door, his eyes full of sadness and curiosity when you had finished playing and he noted that you didn’t look surprised at his presence. 

“Nothing is sad until its over. Then everything is.” you replied quietly and contemplatively, your eyes full of grief and heartbreak as you looked at him with a sliver of hope in your heart. 

Kaz had felt a lump of emotion swell up in his throat as he tried to speak but he was too lost in your eyes that mirrored how he felt and you took a step toward him “Kaz... I just wanted to say -”

“Y/N - I just came to say it’s enough.” said Kaz clearing his throat and taking hold of himself as he took on the coldness and harshness against you who looked slightly confused “Enough of your melancholy whining and playing the violin! It’s a headache and distracting all of us from doing important things.”

Kaz had watched you freeze in shock at his order, your eyes burning bright in disbelief and hurt and Kaz knew it that you loved playing on your violin. Your violin was the most precious possession in the world to you and you would never give up your violin to save yourself. You loved playing music on your violin more than anything in the world and to hear Kaz order you to stop playing the violin was an equivalent to ordering you drown yourself and kill yourself. 

The despair and grief in your eyes flashed into cold anger as you gripped your violin protectively “You once looked me in the eyes and told me that you would be by my side until the end. But it’s wonderful to see that you are okay being a liar who wants everything to revolve around you. I guess my pain - the pain you caused is such an imposition to you.”

“Y/N... I’m sick of you! So please stop playing the violin! If you so much as play a note on that stupid thing, I will burn it!” exclaimed Kaz who had felt anger that derived out of guilt and self - loathing as he glared at you with lightning in his eyes. 

Kaz saw you were paralyzed with shock at his cruel words that he suddenly regretted as he looked at your grief-stricken expression but he didn’t want to stay and dwell on it as he turned away but as he took a few steps away from you, he heard you say in disappointment and sadness “I thought you might be different than the rest of the monsters in this world. But I guess you are all the same.”

Kaz had frozen but before his anger could get the best of him, he had marched to his office. You had looked down at the streets of Ketterdam that were haunted by your father who had come before you, your brother who you had lost to the cruelty of this city and the one person you had always felt like you belonged in this godforsaken city had abandoned you making you feel unspeakably lonely and terrified, unbearably heartbroken and hurt. You had been the phoenix in this city rising from the ashes every single time they burned you but you were getting tired of rising and fighting like it was nothing. Kaz had dealt the final blow. 

When Nina had offered to take you with her, you had not hesitated. Kaz had been surprised that you had accepted and something in him wanted to stop you from leaving to Ravka. But he stayed silent as you packed your bags and left for Ravka with Nina without saying goodbye to him as he had the deadly sinking feeling that he was losing you. 

Kaz had expected that he wouldn’t miss you at all. After all, it was good that you were far away from him as possible and it would give him time to move from this disaster. But the air was thick with loss and indecision as he realized the truth of the saying that you never knew what you had until it was gone. Kaz had thought your absence would only satisfy him and give him the satisfaction that he was right all along.

But Kaz had been completely, utterly, tragically wrong. 

Because after you had left, everything seemed empty and wrong to Kaz. Your absence could be felt in every single vein in Kaz’ body and your absence taunted him as he felt the little things about your presence in his life. His office that had once been full of light and warmth, a place of shelter from the cruelty of the world where he shared sacred moments of sincere smiles and easy conversations with you had now become cold and dark, empty of your vivid intelligence and easy laughter that lit it up as Kaz stared frozen at the blueprints, maps, documents, contracts that didn’t make any sense to him any longer. Your scent of sharp jasmine and comforting pages of books lingered on his pillow that he buried his head into every night trying to hold onto you as he missed you terribly. Kaz missed your incredible intelligence and imagination that saw the world through different eyes and observed things that everyone else missed. Kaz felt your absence ache terribly at the lack of beautiful, magical and lovely music that you would play on your violin during the most random and inconvenient times of the day when you needed to think. Kaz missed the little things from the little soft and knowing smile you had reserved only for him, the midnight conversations that made them smile and cry, the afternoons you would come back from your favorite café to share coffee and pastries with him, your furrowed brow when you were focused on sketching, and the playfulness and childlike innocence you exuded brightening his life. 

Kaz couldn’t bear your absence that echoed in this godforsaken city of Ketterdam. Ketterdam, the city that used to be a reminder of Jordie was now driving Kaz mad by screaming your name everywhere Kaz went. Kaz couldn’t walk past and live in this city of blood that was now haunted by you as he was reminded of you in each place from your room that used to be scattered with papers, books and boards that were marked with ongoing investigations but now was empty of activity, the marketplace you frequented bargaining with the vendors driving them to despair, the bookshops in the University District you lingered in for long hours, the Crow Club where you laughed and drank with the Crows sharing intimate and secret glances with Kaz, the library where you loved to read losing track of time, the waffle house where you and Nina loved to eat waffles, the hot chocolate stand where you and Kaz would always buy and drink hot chocolate after a heist or a job or whenever they passed it by, the crowded canals where you liked to sit and sketch landscapes of Ketterdam, the harbor shore where you liked to run into the sea and jump around in the waves childishly and freely and the bar your friend Steve owned where Kaz had first met you. 

Your seat at the table was empty and no one in the Dregs dared to sit on it. Everyone in the Dregs missed you too. Jesper didn’t frequent the Slat often and when he did was restless and anxious, Wylan was quiet and thoughtful as he worked on his bombs but when something went wrong, he would be frustrated and once snapped in anger at one of the innocent newly recruited Dregs because no one else except you understood him and his love for inventions. Inej prayed daily to her Saints to keep you and Nina safe, posted letters all the Crows and the Dregs wrote to you, sent you little trinkets, and tidied your room replacing the wilted flowers and arranging it. Matthias would try to raise everyone’s spirits as he reminisced of good times with you making everyone smile and laugh and encouraging the Dregs to keep going but inside he was worried for your wellbeing since you were the first friend he had from Hellgate until now. 

Kaz also was subjected to high sass levels of incredibly frustrated and angry intelligent, skilled and protective teenagers and your friends in the Dregs who were first seen by you and touched by your kindness to them in the streets and were forever in your debt for giving them a home and a purpose. This was the worst punishment yet for hurting you and he wished that he had never done anything to you because the revenge from the kids and friends in the Dregs who loved you was worse than any humiliation he had been subjected to. 

He had once come down in the morning to get coffee but the last of the coffee was taken by the dark haired, sassy kid called Hari who had marched into the kitchen completely covered in blood as he held an axe and glared at Kaz as he marched away with the jug of coffee, never letting Kaz get coffee at any given moment. The red head named Betty who was completely mad at Kaz had arranged to deliver the most distasteful cakes that tasted horrible to him every single day with the most hurtful and imaginative sayings on the top ranging from ‘IT’S GARBAGE DAY. CAN’T BELIEVE THEY HAVE A WHOLE DAY DEDICATED TO YOU’, ‘SORRY YOU ARE SUCH A HATEFUL BITCH’, ‘YOUR WHOLE LIFE IS A JOKE’, and a cake with a middle finger on it that said ‘YOUR LOSS’. There were three kids named Tony, Sabrina and James who helped you with your investigations and whenever Kaz ordered them to do anything, they would defy him sassily by shrugging him off and not taking him seriously. There were two twins named Rob and Hal who pranked Kaz every single day after he had broken your heart, nearly driving Kaz crazy but Kaz could never trace the prank back to them but Kaz knew it was them when they smirked in amusement whenever they saw Kaz covered with glitter and pink confetti or Kaz’ hair completely blonde and purple. The curly haired boy named Joe who you had given all your waffles to on that terribly hungry day would replace Kaz’ gloves with brightly colored, crazily patterned leather gloves, hide Kaz’ documents in places where Kaz couldn’t find them, replace Kaz’ coats with bright and colorful coats, redecorate Kaz’ cane into silly shapes and replaced Kaz’ perfume with a spray that made Kaz smell like rotten eggs for days. A medik you trusted and had taken into the Dregs named Hungyun would sharpen his blades and recite facts about surgeries and how to dispose of a body whenever Kaz passed him by so Kaz avoided him all together.

Matthias who had noticed Jesper’s restlessness, Wylan’s frustration, Inej’s worry and the Dregs’ sass had gathered them for a project to cheer you up by making an album about how much you meant to them and soon all of them enthusiastically joined in the creative venture. The only thing that calmed all the Dregs and Crows from starting a revolution was your letters to them that kept them happy that you were doing fine. 

Kaz received your letters and he read them the moment he received them. You wrote so beautifully about Ravka and how it was so different to Ketterdam. Every letter was a piece of you that he clung onto as he read it over and over again, tracing your elegant yet messy handwriting full of enthusiasm and sadness as you described everything in vivid detail, put down your own thoughts and confessed how much you missed him and couldn’t forget him no matter how hard you tried. Kaz tried to write back but every time he tried to write, words failed him as emotions overwhelmed him because he didn’t know where to start and he knew if he wrote back and really confronted how he felt, he would be giving into weakness. He couldn’t afford to be weak. So he wrote the letters he wanted to write to you secretly and locked it away and read your letters over and over again never sending you a response hoping that in time you would forget him. 

But the thought of losing you terrified him. Because that was kind of heartbreak time could never mend. Kaz could never feel this kind of love for anyone again and though he was adamant in holding onto strength of not giving into his weakness, he never wanted you to leave him for another because it petrified and terrified him. He could never walk the streets of Ketterdam again if you were not by his side. 

Kaz knew he had to do something when he dreamed of you and started seeing visions of you in broad daylight. The first time Kaz had seen you in broad daylight was when he was supervising the Crow Club and he had seen you laughing in the Crow Club and you winked at him with that charming and knowing manner that always made him blush and his eyes widened in wonder and disbelief because he couldn’t believe you had come back so soon but then you vanished. Kaz had blinked in confusion realizing that he had hallucinated you but that was just the beginning. When Kaz had been walking down the street, he had heard you call out his name cheerfully and his heart had soared in traitorous hope as he swerved to look in the direction where he heard your voice and saw that it was you with your sweet disposition and bright eyes running toward him with wind in your hair and his knees had almost given out but then the vision of you disappeared as a girl ran past him to hug her lover behind him. Kaz tried to shut you out but you were impossible. You were in his head and you didn’t leave. He saw you sitting in his office looking at him in disappointment and anger, tears of sadness rolling down your cheeks as you begged him to love you. 

Kaz couldn’t bear it any longer. Kaz didn’t care how long Nina had said she would be gone with you. Kaz needed you with him. Kaz wanted you with him because he couldn’t live without you since this was hell. Kaz pulled out a new paper and wrote a letter to you ordering you to come back home to him because he couldn’t live like this any longer. He hoped that once you got the letter, you would not hesitate to come back. 

After all Ketterdam was your home. Ketterdam was where you belonged. Ketterdam was where he was. There was nothing special tying you to Ravka. 

As Kaz sent the letter, he looked at the sun setting down on the horizon and muttered with all the sincerity and piercing agony in his heart as he remembered the rare masterpiece he shared with you, remembered you all too well “I miss you, Y/N. Come back to me.”

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[madmutts]

A Drive Home: Lapse Arc.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Angelo stumbles out of the bar bathroom, bandana clenched in his fist. God, his hair’s a mess. He rubs his wrist against his mouth with an irritated grunt– one step at a time, Angie, he hears mind Raph echo. “Oh shut up,” he murmurs.

“Angel?”

Buh..? As the box turtle steps forward, his snout makes contact with weighty fabric and fur. He looks up- woah. This dude’s tallll. Mumbling out an apology, Angie tries to scoot around, but the yokai blocks him. A deep, husky voice enters his ears. Not in a screechy, painful way, but with flow: like a nice shot of shitty ass whiskey.

“You haven’t been ‘round in a while,” the man says. “I thought you went sober or somethin'.”

Blinking blearily up at the yokai, he takes a look at the face that seemed to know his own. Oh– it’s the hyena bartender. Crud. He stammers a little, a small embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. “I-I- uh.. I don’t- you know, I just-..." 

‘Bartender Guy’ raises a brow at Angelo, who stands there wobbling and shuffling in his spot. Mikey only barely registers his sigh. The bartender places a hand on the turtle's shoulder. "Look, I get it. I see this kinda thing happen all the time. Those guys? Your friends? They're drunks, man. And when you hang out with drunks, you gotta also get drunk."

Angelo stares down and clutches his hands into loose fists. Ah yes, shoes. How interesting, mmhm. He blinks rapidly as he feels the sting of tears, and his lips wobble. The turtle takes in a shaky breath, raising a fist to scrub at his eyes. “I’m tryin.. I’m tryna b-be better, I s-swear..”

The hyena grimaces, his hand leaving Angelo's shoulder. "Oh- no. I didn't mean-" He sighs again, glancing away for a moment. The bartender opens his jaws to speak, but he's cut off by the turtle. 

"I don't- I dunno why I'm h-here.." Angelo hiccups in between his words, his speech slurring from how wasted he'd gotten, "I shouldn't ha-have.. come here… I'm so stu-stupid. I jus.. I jus wanted friends.."  

Bartender Guy purses his lips, "Hey, no, you're not stupid-" Angelo whines, cutting him off again. "Noo..! They're gonna be so- so mad at me..!"

"Who? Your friends?" 

"No! My brothers! I promise.. promised! I wouldn't dri-.. drink anymore..! They're gonna hate me… Buh-" Angelo stumbles a little, a hand shooting up to stabilize himself against the wall. Then he leans against the bartender, hiding his embarrassed, flushed, and tearful face in that nice, clean button-up. Bartender Guy stares down at Angelo for a moment, his hand landing on top of the turtle's head. He then looks away, around the corner to the bar where Angelo's so-called 'friends' laughed and drank. 

"I jus wanna go home…" Muffled against his shirt, Angelo mumbles, sniffling quietly. A moment passes before there's a gentle pat on Angelo's head, and the bartender whispers down to him. "Hey.. How ‘bout I drive you home? I’m supposed to be clocking out soon anyway.”

Angelo wobbles a little as he leans back to look up at him, "But.. the guys..-" "Don't worry about them, I’ll handle it."

The turtle stares up at him for a second, before sniffling with a slight nod as he rubs his eyes again. The bartender gives him a small sympathetic nod and a pat on the shoulder. Angelo sways a bit as he makes his way to the door, then sits on the steps leading out to the street. 

Sitting in the cool and calmer air of the Hidden City, Angelo attempts to take a deep breath. With a whimper, he crosses his arms over his knees and rests his head on them. In his hand still rests the mask he usually ties his hair up with, his thumb idly rubbing the fabric.

He was so stupid. He knew he made a promise, and he broke it anyway. He broke it anyway.. Stupid, stupid promises. “Stupid, st-stupid Angelo.”

Angelo closes his eyes, letting his mind be carried by the quiet sensations of the city night. Though it still bustled, it was still much quieter than the streets of Manhattan. Quieter than the screams of war and fallen angels.

He likes the quiet.

A gentle pat lays itself on his backside. One eye opens lazily towards Bartender Guy. “I’m back,” he says. He left? “Your pals said bye, and that they hope you get home safe.”

Angelo hums, feeling slightly better. At least for the meantime. “Mmmm.. I suppose that dep-pendss on you, Mister.”

Bartender Guy huffs out a laugh– after so long, he was already used to his ex-regular’s behavior. “Yessir. Now- let’s get ya home.”

He helps Angelo up, letting the shorter man lean on his figure all the way to the car. It’s nothing grand, being your average five-person vehicle. Comfy. Sliding right into shotgun, he sinks into the cool leather, head tipped back. He weakly blows at the threads of hair sticking to his blushed cheeks. 

As the sound of the driver seat’s door closing and the engine revving up fills his ears, he yanks at his sleeves, hoping to relieve himself from the heat of his hoodie. His impaired motor skills prove the act to be a struggle, the hoodie latching on too snuggly on his shell.

The hyena glances over to his passenger while backing onto the road. “Do you.. Need help?”

Angelo growls. Bartender Guy raises his free hand in playful surrender. By the time the hoodie successfully plops off his form and onto his lap, the two yokai were freely riding down Hidden City streets.

Angelo’s head buzzes, his bartender friend’s words coming out as static. He pulls out his phone in a daze. There on his screen were multiple notifications of people worrying over him... Maybe he should update on his location? That’s what a sober person does he thinks. 

With two hands, the turtle navigates his way through his disorganized phone to his camera, taking a photo of the car and his lap. Click. He wasn’t sure if it was the car shaking or his hands shaking, but either way, the picture came out good enough. The blurry lights outside looked pretty– like strokes from a painting.

His eyes still fixated on the phone’s camera, he tilts it to his left, towards the driver. Through the lens of the camera, Angelo watches his relaxed form, his eyes calmly looking at the road ahead. He was… huh. The car slows down as it reaches a stoplight.

Click.

Bartender Guy, to Angelo’s surprise, glances over to the phone, noticing the photo taken. Angelo’s fixation on the phone breaks, and he glances up to the Bartender Guy– at the same time, Bartender Guy looks up at him as well. They stare at each other.

The bartender gives a bashful smile. “Um.. What are you doing?”

Angelo, for the second time that night, looks away embarrassed. He quickly goes to hide the phone, which results in the cell laying sweetly on the car floor. “What are.. you, doin, huh?” he retorts.

The man wiggles his fingers on the wheel. “Driving?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Dang, I’ve done been got.”

Angelo smiles, quietly laughing to himself. His smile lasts only for a moment though, as he gazes down at his mask. His brothers fill his thoughts again.

He murmurs, “Stupid, stupid Angelo.”

“..Don’t call yourself that.”

Angelo’s eyes widen. He hadn’t expected the man to hear that. He turns his head towards Bartender Guy, whose eyes were back on the road but had a firm frown. Oh.. Did he make him upset? “I’m s orry..”

He shakes his head. “The only one you gotta feel sorry for is yourself, man.”

The turtle furrows his eyebrows. No, but that’s not right.. “No.. not, not right..”

“Not. Right?”

“Not right.” His head tips up and down. “I broke.. A promise.”

“Angel-”

“Angels don’t break promises.” He looks at his hands, tracing the phantom cracks. “Misstter.”

Bartender Guy goes quiet, letting Angelo ramble. The turtle continues.

“Angelsss.. are supposed to be good! Unstoppable forces! Nooo flaws or weird kinda-demon possessions or deep unress-solvved issues. Whatsoever!” His hands nonsensically flap in the air. 

“I’m s’pposed to be an angel, y’know? Comes in the name. In the jobbb. In the war. Not that you know anythin’ bout the war, haha. I dunno if anyone I even know here died or survived then.” A part of him knew he shouldn’t even be talking about the war, but no part of him was thinking straight right about now. “But no! No good at savin’ anyone. Not then, not now. No good at keepin’ prommies.”

He lets out a pitiful laugh. “No good at not getting wasted.”

Angelo pulls his legs up to his chest, letting the fabric of his hoodie squish between his thighs and plastron. “Imm no angel. No good at bein’ a brother either. I’m just.. Nothin’.”

Silence begets the two. Bartender Guy stares straight ahead, quietly processing the information given. As he moves the turn signal though, he speaks up. “No, you’re not.”

A pause.

“Huh?” Angelo blinks slowly in confusion.

He sighs. “You’re not nothing– I think you’re wrong.”

Flares of anger hiccuped from the back of Angelo’s throat. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not.”

“..What?”

The bartender turns the wheel. “Sure– maybe I don’t know you. I don’t even understand like. Half of what you just said right now honestly. 

“But I want to. I want to know you, your story. Your family. Anything you’re willing to.”

For a short moment, Angelo stares into Haida’s eyes– trying to understand. “..Why?”

He shrugs. “Because you’re cool?”

Angelo frowns and touches the surface of his skin. “No, I’m not.”

“Funny too. And– I dunno. You can be fun.”

“I drunk cry like, all the time-”

“Believe me when I say I’ve dealt with worse.” He slows down before reaching his point. “Listen, like. I may not know you, but I do remember you. And I don’t think you give yourself enough credit bud.”

Angelo’s lip trembles. “..What does it matter? My bros are gonna.. gonna hate me,” he repeats.

They finally reach their stop: Run of the Mill. Bartender Guy sets the gear shift to park before leaning back and turning to Angelo with a smile. His teeth stuck out, but it didn’t make it threatening: rather, the smile was soft. “No, I don’t think so. No one can hate you.”

Angelo sits, stunned. The bartender, after exiting the vehicle, goes around and helps him out of the car, grabbing his phone from the floor along the way. “You remember what to do, right?” He asks. “Call Hueso, portal back?” Pushing away the weird feeling rising in his stomach, Angelo shakily nods.

He secures his hoodie and mask in his arms and stares up at his driver. “I guess, um… This is goodbye?”

Bartender Guy types something on Angelo’s phone before handing it back. “Reckon so. I guess the next time we meet, it won’t be back in the bar, eh?”

Angelo flinches and looks down. He fiddles with the fabric of his hoodie sleeves. “I dun.. I d-dunno if I can.. prommise that.”

He shakes his head.”You don’t have to.” He smiles as he hops back in the car, this time with full sets of teeth– the trademark of a hyena. “I believe in you. And I think that’s more than nothin’.”

And with the wave of an arm, Bartender Guy drives away. Angelo stares off at the friendly stranger– well. Maybe friend? He’s not sure anymore. He looks down at his phone, curious as to what the bartender had typed.

Huh. It was a contact number.

“..Haida.”

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is HEAVILY inspired by the business card scene in American Psycho. (I wrote this back in 2021 for a collab.) [ SYNOPSIS ] Zeke's perceived inadequacy leads him to a situation that only exacerbates his insecurities. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU (duh), not a big fan of the term "crack fic" but that's basically what this is, Zeke's only a few years older than the rest of the Warriors, sharing nudes without consent, smutty stuff is mentioned, alcohol, marijuana, body horror (Zeke describes scaphism in great detail), Zeke's probably ooc because I basically turned him into Patrick Bateman.

Zeke’s standing in the back of the bar, cornered by his friends. His life is in shambles because you dragged him to a birthday party in the nicest part of the city on the very night he decided to make a major life choice. Tonight was the night he said fuck it and shaved off his beard.

“You look like a baby,” Porco laughs.

“Like an angular baby, like a baby with good cheekbones,” Bertholdt, the birthday boy, mutters to himself.

“Can I touch your face?”

Zeke clenches his jaw and goes to speak only to be interrupted by Reiner's tender touch.

“Wow, that is soft. You got really soft skin. What do you use?”

Zeke smacks Reiner's hand away and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away his residual touch. The meathead’s compliment was sufficient; there was no need to make physical contact.

“Sisley’s Black Rose Skin Infusion Cream.” Zeke sighs, accepting Reiner’s interpersonal failure. “How drunk are you?”

Reiner grins.

“I don’t know but your girlfriend’s the one that’s making them,” Reiner says before dissolving into the crowd.

Zeke questions whether or not Reiner was actually there in the first place. He could have merely been an anxiety induced hallucination.

“I have to… go,” Zeke abruptly blurts out to no one in particular as he pushes himself through his group of friends.

Free from their grasp he kicks himself for being so inarticulate in such a genuine way. Usually his nerves were hidden by a veneer of stoicism, but now he wonders if maybe it was just the beard. 

The bar is packed and Zeke stands on his tippy toes trying to see your little head bobbing around somewhere. So many people look like you from this distance. He takes off his glasses and squints but it does little to assist him. He nearly drops them as he maneuvers them back onto his face. Eventually he hears you cackling close by. He sighs heavily once he spots you behind the bar. You look angelic, a beacon of light in a sea of complete fucking bullshit. You look him in the eyes and smile, relief washing over him.

“Don’t you have to have a license or something to be back there?” he asks you, hiding his anxiety behind a facade of smugness.

You shrug and lean over the bar to kiss his forehead.

“They ain’t kicked me out yet so… I guess not.”

Zeke sits down on a bar stool and holds his head in his hands. He remembers that this is a private party and the likelihood of anyone actually giving a shit is slim to none.

“Reiner called you my girlfriend.”

“Ew, why?”

Zeke peers up from his hands, the rest of his face still obscured. Anything to hide his lack of facial hair.

“Because we showed up together and he probably heard us fucking in the bathroom earlier. Can you hold these for me? I almost dropped them.”

Zeke hands you his glasses and you tuck them away in your purse.You pat his head and ruffle his wavy blonde hair. He relishes in the gentle touch of your hand.

“Reiner’s an idiot. Want a shot?”

“Two. You know what I like.”

You grab a bottle of whiskey and overpour two shots. You pass one to him and go grab the other for yourself. Zeke grabs your wrist and stares up at you.

“They’re both for me.”

You shake your head and pour yourself one. Zeke downs the whiskey, savoring the smokey taste it leaves behind on his tongue. Just as he goes to ask you about how your day was Marcel fucking Galliard taps him on the shoulder.

“Buddy, it’s been too long. How ya been?”

Marcel is hammered and he lifts Zeke off the stool into a bear hug. Zeke feels the whiskey crawl up his throat, the most painful tickle he’s been subjected to.

“Ni—nice to see you. It has been awhile,” he chokes out.

Marcel loosens his grip and takes a seat next to Zeke. He looks impeccable, his hair perfectly quaffed. His skin was practically glowing. How could such a drunk guy look so put together and handsome?

“It has been a fucking while!” Marcel exclaims once more.

Zeke scratches his ear and then subtly waves you off. You slowly walk away backwards from the men, bumping into the actual bartender.

“Colt! Coltie Boy!... Damn, dude, you alright? You look tired.”

Marcel has mistaken Zeke for Colt Grice, one of the other tall blonde guys in their friend group. It seems logical because Colt works at the same middle school as Zeke doing the same exact thing he does, teaching language arts to seventh graders. Though Zeke thinks he’s smarter and more relatable to his students. It certainly doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen Marcel in years, who likely has forgotten what he looks like.

“Well I haven’t been getting much sleep. You know me, burning the midnight oil and all.”

Marcel laughs way too hard at Zeke’s joke which wasn’t even a joke in the first place.

He grabs Zeke’s shoulder and continues. “Great, that’s great. Such a hard worker. So uh, shit what’s her name… That girl you’ve been seeing.”

“Pieck.”

Marcel snaps his fingers and grabs Zeke’s shoulder again.

“Yeah, yeah, how’s Pieck? She’s a keeper. A great girl.”

“She’s good, couldn’t be happier with her. We’re thinking about getting a dog.”

“Wow, that’s—that’s great. You deserve it, man. You’re a good guy. Not like that dork Zach Yeager.”

“His name is Zeke, Marcel.”

“Who cares? You,” Marcel pokes Zeke in the chest, just barely missing his nipple, “you’re a good guy. You got your life together. Fuck Zach, man.”

Zeke nods in agreement.

“He’s a fucking dick, you know? Sure, yeah, I haven’t seen that weirdo in years, but I don’t even have to see him to know he’s—” Marcel pauses to burp into his hand. “excuse me. To know he’s a piece of shit.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan either.”

“Fucking wears dumb glasses, like dude get a normal pair.”

“I know, right?”

“Grandpas wear those glasses, Coltie. Grand. Pas.”

Just as Zeke feels like he’s going to vomit into his own lap Bertholdt pops up from behind Marcel, eyes full of concern. 

“Hey Marcel, Porco’s out back and he’s not looking too good.”

Bertholdt’s a dirty liar and everyone except Marcel knows it. Porco’s tolerance is god-like, an unwavering cognitive marvel. Marcel sighs and stands up, stumbling out the door to the patio, Bertholdt trailing behind. He hits his forehead on the door frame on his way out.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you quietly ask, eating a maraschino cherry you stole from someone’s drink.

Zeke smiles and shakes his head. 

“It could’ve been wor—”

“Oh shit! What happened? You kinda look like dad!”

Eren is standing in the doorway with a pair of wayfarers on. He definitely stole them from someone; there was no way he’d drop money on Ray Bans. He comes over and hugs Zeke from behind. Zeke appreciates Eren’s affection but it does nothing to soothe verbal assault he received from Marcel.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know that was fucked up,” Eren coos. “But I am right. I can’t help that.”

It doesn’t matter if Eren is right or not. Zeke’s ego is crushed beyond repair. You shoo his brother away and drag Zeke into one of the booths, sitting across the table from him. He frowns.

“Can you sit next to me?”

The alcohol is taking hold of him. He needs attention and affection, but not too much. Anything beyond you sitting beside him, holding him close, is simply unbearable. You switch sides and scoot close to him. 

Zeke notices you staring at him. Your gaze is kind, kinder than a shithead like him deserves. He can’t remember a time in his life where he felt more insecure and unworthy of you. When your soft hand caresses his bare face he is slightly startled. However it’s a welcome gesture.

“I think you look good,” you purr.

He slinks down into his seat, bathing in your praise.

“I’m a little jealous of your jawline too.”

Zeke blushes.

“I look that good, huh?”

“No, you look like shit. I was lying the whole time. You’re the ugliest guy here.”

“Stop you’re going to make me fall in love with y—”

“Colt! The fuck?! What about Pieck, man?!”

You both turn to see a very drunk, very disheveled Marcel being carried out of the bar by Porco and Colt. Colt turns around, looking fresh as daisy, not a single line or wrinkle on his face; his skin smoother than a baby’s ass. He flashes an apologetic grin and lets go of Marcel, walking towards the two of you with utmost confidence. Porco crashes into a table because Marcel might as well be the most cumbersome person on the planet at this moment.

“This is probably the worst time to ask, but do you think I could use your study guides for my class tomorrow? I didn’t have time to throw anything together because Pieck and I were settling into our new apartment.”

Zeke wants to die right then and there. Zeke, who lives in a studio apartment with a chinchilla named Robert. Zeke, who will never own any form of home in his life. Zeke, who’s skincare routine will never make up for years of smoking and sitting in the sun.

“Wow! That’s so cool, Colt!” you pipe up, wrapping an arm around Zeke. He leans into you, desperately trying to disappear. He wants you to make the situation go away, to wrap it up with a little bow and toss it out a window.

“It’s a lot of work getting all that furniture into the penthouse that’s for sure.”

“I can imagine,” you reply eagerly, making up for Zeke’s awkwardness.

Colt just stands there grinning. 

The lull in the conversation is too much for Zeke bear. He realizes he needs to open his mouth and speak.

“Uh, you can use my study guides.”

“Oh thank you! You’re a lifesaver.” Colt turns around to see the nuclear disaster that is the Galliard brothers. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to take care of that,” he laughs. “Let’s do dinner sometime!”

Once Colt is out of earshot Zeke falls to pieces.

“Let’s do an execution sometime, Colt. Just boil me alive, send me to the boats.”

Zeke notices the quizzical look you give him and tosses his head back and groans.

“It’s a form of execution where you trap someone between two boats—row boats not ocean liners.” He knows you all too well, your perception prone to the absurd. “And you force feed them milk and honey, and you cover them with it too. And then you leave them to fester and rot in the sun like in a lake or a river.” He coughs. “Death doesn’t come quickly obviously. Flies lay eggs in your wounds, feasting upon your infected flesh. Mosquitos rise from the putrid water and buzz around you. Your body decays right before your eyes.”

“Uh,” is all you can manage to spit out.

He can’t hide his disappointment, and avoids your gaze.

“I know something that’ll cheer you up.”

“What?” he asks.

“Wanna see some dick pics?”

Zeke’s attention is thoroughly piqued. He clears his throat, trying to mask his blatant curiosity.

“Sure. Whose do you have?”

You smirk. “I got everyone.”

“Do you go around showing these to everyone?”

Zeke panics remembering the series of dick pics he sent you one night after smoking two blunts by himself. So many different angles and his face was definitely in a few of them.

“Oh god no, I don’t show them to anyone.”

He bathes in a sea of relief.

“Okay good. Let me see.”

You pull out your phone and go to your hidden photos. A barrage of dicks show up on the screen all in various states of turgidity.

‘Wait, I want to see mine first.”

“Fine. Weirdo.”

You scroll down to find a picture of Zeke’s hard cock. A solid six inches. Circumcised. A few veins running along the length of it, more on the green side. It’s framed by curly, untrimmed, flaxen pubic hair which suddenly Zeke is weirdly self conscious about. He can’t help but wonder if Colt has untamed pubes.

“Should I wax?”

You look at him like he has three heads.

“What? No. I like them even if they get caught in my teeth occasionally.”

You pinch his cheek and Zeke lets out a little “phew”. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you told him otherwise. The idea of ripping out his body hair terrifies him. Shaving’s bad enough, the resulting emotional anguish a burden he struggles to bear. He might die if he added physical pain into the mix.

“I appreciate the angles,” you say. “It’s artistic. The lighting hits the cum dripping off the tip perfectly.”

Zeke basks in the light of your praise.

“Nice and erect, not floppy and flaccid. It’s one of my favorites.”

He shivers at the thought of sending you a photo of his limp dick. He’s a grower, not a shower, a fact that left him feeling inadequate if he thought too hard about it.

It was seemingly unfounded. You never expressed any displeasure when you’d pull his cock out of his pants and see it in its flaccid state. No hint of judgment when you got down on your knees and sucked him off. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

“Gimme a name.”

“Let’s see the birthday boy.”

You pull up a poorly lit photo of an incredibly erect cock. No veins, very smooth with an even coloring. Zeke notices he’s uncircumcised and tries to convince himself that his dick being circumcised makes him a better person than Bertholdt.

“It’s very long,” you say, zooming in on the dick and scrolling down. “Not super thick though.”

“I’m not impressed.”

Zeke takes pride in his cock being thicker than Bertholdt’s.

“Can I ask why you have a pic of his dick?”

“He was drunk and meant to send it to Annie.”

“And you kept it?”

“Hey, whoa. I did ask.”

Zeke gives you a quizzical look. He is having trouble discerning the situation at hand and it makes him feel like he’s dying. You pat his back.

“I was like, ‘Bertl, can I keep this?’ And he was like, ‘If you feel so compelled.’ And let me tell you... I was compelled.”

“Next one,” Zeke says, glaring at the dick on your phone screen.

“Okay,” you flip through your photos, “Porco.”

You hold up your phone, showing Zeke a still image of Porco furiously masturbating on the bathroom floor.

“D—did he set up a timer on his phone?”

“Yeah, grandpa, welcome to the 21st century. We’re happy to have you.”

“You’re two years younger than me, grandma.”

You stick your tongue out at him and zoom in on Porco’s cock. His cock curves upward quite a bit, veiny but not nearly as veiny as Zeke’s. The tip is a pearlescent pink. Porco managed to catch himself in the middle of his orgasm, cum spurting upward like a geyser.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“Cum looks a little thin, watery even.”

Zeke wants to tack on that his cum is more robust, but he realizes how pathetic it is to brag about.

“I like it when it’s thicker. Like if someone is going to come on me I wanna feel it splatter on my skin, you know?”

Zeke doesn’t know.

“Yeah I get that,” he lies.

“I appreciate the action of the shot, but it’s too busy. I see a bottle of Acqua di Gio on his bathroom counter. His plunger is in the background. I don’t like that his bathroom rug is orange.”

Zeke could hear you talk shit about Porco’s nudes all day.

“You lookin’ at Porco’s nudes?”

Reiner slides into the other side of the booth. He’s pretty drunk, skin a little pink, but he seems mostly there.

“Has everyone seen them?” Zeke asks in a panic.

“No. I overheard you guys talking,” he chastises. “You guys are really harsh critics.”

“I have standards, Reiner.”

“If people can be film critics, why not dick critics?” Zeke asks, genuinely wanting an answer.

“Hey!” You smack Reiner’s arm. “Can I show Zeke your dick?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t. I’m not an artist, but I’ve been told I have an eye for color,” he brags.

Zeke rolls his eyes. “Hush. Let’s see the dick.”

You pull up Reiner’s dick on your phone. It’s a lower body shot, just his torso and cock in view, it’s standing straight up. His body is framed by his earth toned bedding that makes his skin look divine. He’s statuesque, like a Greek god.

“Check out my cum gutters.”

“Reiner,” you exclaim. “Gross!”

“So Zeke, what do you think?” Reiner asks eagerly.

“Impressive,” Zeke chokes out. “Very nice.”

Zeke’s ready to move on. Reiner’s color coordinating bodybuilder nudes make him want to wear clothes for the rest of his life. He pictures himself dressed in his pajamas, standing in the middle of his shower, arms crossed, looking absolutely miserable.

“Hm, I think that’s all I have. Wait. Oh my god, I forgot I have your brother’s.”

Zeke is conflicted. On one hand he feels protective of Eren and wants to destroy your phone, preserving Eren’s honor. But on the other he wants to rip Eren’s head off for sending you a picture of his dick.

“I have one!” Reiner pipes up.

“Whose?” Zeke and you ask in unison.

“Colt’s.”

You start to shake your head. “No, no more dick pics. We’re done for the night.”

“No,” Zeke says, clenching his jaw. “Let’s see Colt Grice’s cock.”

You toss your head back and stare at the ceiling, preparing yourself for Zeke’s reaction. Reiner winces, realizing his mistake. But still he pulls out his phone.

“Why do you have a picture of his dick?” you ask.

“He needed a creative consultant,” he replies plainly.

Reiner goes through his phone and breathes heavily. He looks up from his phone, his lips a flat line, and he holds up Colt’s dick pic.

It’s a full body shot of Colt. His cock is thick and long, the same look and size as Zeke’s. He grabs Reiner’s phone and stares at Colt’s throbbing erection. It’s taken in his bathroom and unlike Porco's, his counter is organized, only a small bottle of expensive hand soap lurking in the corner. His dick is the perfect shade of pink, the head of his cock picturesque. It’s smooth, but not in a creepy way. It’s like it was sculpted by Rodin, rock hard and tremendous.

“Oh my god. His pubes are so trim,” Zeke mutters. 

His hand shakes and he drops the phone. Reiner grabs it, slips it into his pocket, and looks away from Zeke. The three of you sit in silence, the only sounds coming from the party.

“Is something wrong, Zeke?” you ask. “You’re sweating.”

Zeke doesn’t say anything. There isn’t anything to say. This isn’t something that can be buffed away with pity. The wounds inflicted are too deep. The pain radiating through his being will never cease. There will be no relief from his festering inadequacy. Happiness and hope for the future are rendered foreign concepts.

The man is irreparably damaged.

[lexosaurus]

Keep Your Enemies Closer

A little Tech Hunter AU oneshot I wrote for DP Angstfest 2023! I based this off of @kinglazrus' AU fic for the @dpauzine in which Tucker is the Red Hunter. It's been stuck in my brain ever since, so I couldn't resist writing her AU for this event!

[ao3]

****

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

That's what people always said, anyway. It's what actors spouted in Hollywood blockbusters as their characters sipped their old fashioned in the dimly lit bar. It's what people typed in their chat logs online, thinking of themselves as high and mighty, very cool, not to be messed with, while they cracked open their fifth serving-sized bag of Doritos that day.

But this wasn't a Hollywood blockbuster. It wasn't Tucker talking up himself to random usernames online.

As he looked at Danny, who was animatedly chatting to Sam about some recently released video game that Tucker couldn’t pretend to care about anymore, he knew that this wasn't just a cool verse. It was real, at least to him. 

“The final boss was way too easy,” Sam was saying. “It's like the devs weren't even trying.”

“I beat it in like five seconds flat,” Danny agreed.

“Yeah, because you exploited the armor glitch,” Sam said. “If you played the game like it was supposed to be played, the final boss would have taken at least a little longer.”

Danny tsked his tongue. “It’s not my fault that I’m obviously just one step ahead of the devs. And you, actually.”

“Come on,” Sam laughed, catching onto the mood. “Stop messing with me.”

Danny grinned back at her, his fangs poking out over his lips. “Samantha Manson, when have I ever messed with you?”

Tucker ducked his head before his face could show. Though, each day that passed seemed to allow that quiet mask to slip over his face far more easily than the day before. And he wasn't even talking about the little yellow mask that lived under his skin.

He remembered the day he'd pieced it all together. The day all the lies, all the little breadcrumb clues, suddenly snapped into place.

He'd been home, as usual, watching videos of the rapidly increasing ghost attacks targeting the city. And of course, at the epicenter of it all was Phantom.

Danny fucking Phantom.

He remembered Danny calling him, his face popping up on Tucker’s home screen, and Tucker pausing the video and holding up his phone to see the two faces side by side. The same smile, the same freckles, the same jaw and haircut and they were the same. 

He couldn’t believe it. But…it made sense. And maybe that was the worst part because it meant that his friend, his best friend, was dead. And worse, he’d turned into a monster. 

But when? When had he died? Was it that “accident” that he sometimes referenced? The day he’d gotten hurt by some of his parents’ equipment?

It didn’t matter. Because now, he was Phantom. But how was he Phantom? The ghost that Tucker loathed. The ghost that Tucker had long since blamed for turning their safe city into a fucking warzone.

How did his best friend turn into…that? Was death really so horrible that it completely changed a person? 

Or was this always inside Danny, deep down in the recess of his subconscious? So deep, so hidden, that Tucker had never noticed till now.

Some people saw Phantom as a hero, and he seemed to revel in it. His cockiness was overflowing, and he took great pride in arriving at every scene precisely when the new ghost of the week would show up. He'd throw a few puns, assure the crowd that, “Don't worry, citizens! I've got this!”, and then he'd beat the ghost up, suck them in his thermos, and would disappear until the next attack.

Phantom had fooled many of the masses. But despite what Dash's stupid nicknames would suggest, Tucker was no sucker. Even if everyone else had their heads up their ass, he didn't.

Tucker didn’t do anything at first. Maybe he’d just been in too deep of a denial. After all, who wanted to pin the destruction of their city on their fucking best friend? 

But then, he started paying attention. To Danny, the “human,” more. All his little quirks, his habits. The way he seemed to jump when Sam casually put a hand on his shoulder (he’d never used to do that), the way his teeth started to sharpen (humans don’t have fangs), the way his eyes would spark green sometimes (it wasn’t a trick of the light), or how he’d always disappear right before a ghost attack (almost like he knew they were coming).

But Tucker stayed silent. Because if Danny was Phantom, then Danny was dangerous. Who knew what Phantom would do if Tucker revealed that he knew? No, it was better to stay docile, not rock the boat, not put his life at risk. Just play it cool.

That plan only worked for so long.

The breaking point wasn’t an explosion of flashy lights so much as it was a seed, planted, but not yet even watered. It was Tucker booting up his virtual computer and opening Tor after school like any other day. 

The usual usernames were chatting in his group. People working on their various projects, coming to the chat room for tips or just talking about whatever other topic was on their mind. This was typical—welcome, even—after the confusing mess that had been Tucker’s every other waking moment as of late.

And then the conversation took a turn. 

To Phantom.

Sporksmith: I haven't wrapped my head around whether Phantom is a good guy or not. ChaseK: It's sus that as soon as the ghosts started showing up, so did he. Sporksmith: That's what I'm thinking, but the guy takes so many beatings a week. I feel like it's more likely that he's crawling out of the same dimensional holes that they are because the dude has family here or something. Mole: That's probably it. He uses modern slang, so it's pretty obvious he died recently.

This wasn’t the first time they’d talked about Phantom. He was a fascinating subject and under much national scrutiny. But this time, Tucker finally stepped in.

GoldenFryer: You guys don't know what you're talking about. ChaseK: You know something then? GoldenFryer: Yeah, I have some inside info. Can't say much, but Phantom isn't who he seems. He's dangerous. Sporksmith: You sound like a guy who's got something up his sleeve.

He hadn't, at that point. But still, it needled his mind. He was closest to Phantom, wasn't he? Even if Danny himself didn't know. Of everyone, wasn't it Tucker’s responsibility to do something about this?

To set the soul of his dead best friend free?

GoldenFryer: Not yet, but maybe I should.

Of course, he couldn't do it by himself, but there was someone who could help. Someone with money, power, and a vocal hatred for ghostly invaders.

“Tucker Foley,” Vladimir Masters said, opening his door. His hair was pulled back in his signature ponytail, and he wore a gaudy green Packers bathrobe. “You’re awake early on a Saturday for a teenager. My, where's your other half?”

“No Danny today. Just me,” he said, keeping his tone casual despite the sudden anxiety spike in his gut.

Vlad grinned and stepped aside, sweeping his arm over the now open doorway. “Excellent, why don't you come in?”

Tucker followed the gesture and stepped through the door, trying to ignore the guilt that was clawing at him. Danny always talked about how much he hated Vlad, and how creepy the guy was. And while Tucker agreed that Vlad was more than a little slimy, Vlad was a businessman, and more importantly, a billionaire. Being slimy kinda came with the territory.

And besides, Vlad had only moved into the town a year ago, after Danny had already turned into Phantom. So, it wasn't Danny who hated Vlad, not really.

“Come, make yourself comfortable. You're a bit too young for me to offer you a drink, but maybe some water, perhaps?”

“I'm fine,” Tucker said. His voice echoed around the empty house.

“Then sit.” Vlad pulled out a seat at the bar. “I just brewed myself a pot of tea. Maybe you'd care for some of that?”

“No thanks,” Tucker said, his voice jilted as he forcefully remembered his manners. Even if it was Phantom who hated Vlad, Tucker wasn't too keen on being behind closed doors with the man any longer than necessary either. 

Vlad paid him no mind, of course, and poured his tea into a fancy china cup. He brought the cup up to his nose, sniffed, and then smiled, setting it down on a small plate on the counter and settling into a seat for himself. “So,” he started, clasping his hands together. “What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you on this fine day?”

Tucker blew a breath out, trying to expel the mounting anxiety in his system. “Okay, I realize what I'm about to say sounds absolutely insane. I get that, but I just need you to let me explain.”

That slimy smirk was back on Vlad's lips. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Okay.” Tucker wrung his hands in his lap. “Okay, just—just hear me out. Trust me, nobody wants to say this less than me.”

“But of course, my dear boy.”

Tucker exhaled one last time and then began. “So, I know who Phantom is. You know, the ghost? I—he's disguising himself as a teenager, and I know who it is.”

“Oh, really? My, that doesn't sound good.”

“It's not.” Tucker closed his eyes, covering his forehead with his hand. “It's the worst, really. Because the person that Phantom is pretending to be—and I know, I know, just let me explain—but it's Danny. Danny Fenton.”

Tucker peeked through his hand to see the smile on Vlad's lips widen. 

“Daniel Fenton, my godson, you mean?” Vlad said. “That's quite the accusation.”

“I know it is. Trust me,” Tucker said. “But—okay, so basically, I think what happened was that Danny was in some sort of lab accident, and it killed him. He talks about it sometimes, but he doesn't give any details. But I'm pretty sure that was it. Because only like a month after that happened, all the ghosts started appearing. And Phantom too. I—uh, here. Hang on, let me show you...” Tucker leaned over and pulled his tablet from his backpack. He opened it and went to his files, opening a pdf of his comparison photos. He handed the tablet to Vlad, saying, “This is them side by side in different positions. You can really see it there, when the photos are lined up like this. They look exactly the same. But that's not all! Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Vlad said, swiping through the pdf.

“Look, I don't really know how to explain it, but Danny's just...he's different now. He disappears before ghosts attack, he comes back all beat and sometimes bloody. He's cold, way colder than normal, and sometimes I see him—when someone's annoying him or if he's pissed—where it's almost like...like he can't even contain his human form anymore. His eyes get green, and sometimes ectoplasm sparks in his palms. It's not human.”

“And you see this as...a problem?” Vlad looked up from the tablet. “If Daniel was Phantom?”

“Why wouldn't it be? Don't you have this whole initiative to get rid of ghosts?” Tucker argued.

If anything, that seemed to amuse Vlad more. He set the tablet down and said, “But of course, I wasn't insinuating anything. I merely just acknowledge that Daniel is your best friend and that most of you youths enjoy Phantom's presence in this city.”

“Only the blind ones do. I know better. Phantom is bringing the ghosts into this town. Mr. Masters, you know how all ghosts have Obsessions?”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Well, Phantom’s Obsession is being a hero, right? What's more heroic than setting up a bunch of ghost fights to 'save' people from?”

Vlad's smile was almost impossibly wide now. “Yes, I understand.”

Something was amusing to that billionaire creep, but Tucker hardly had time to figure out what before Vlad was up out of his seat, pacing around his kitchen.

“You see, I already know all this. You understand, I'm the one funding this city's anti-ghost initiative. And I also know that young Daniel is Phantom.”

Tucker's jaw dropped. “You do?”

“But of course, I do!” Vlad pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on it for a minute before passing it off to Tucker. In an encrypted app that Tucker didn't recognize was a video. 

“Well, go on,” Vlad said.

Tucker pressed play on the video to see a dimly lit alley with Phantom standing at the end of it. He glanced around, and then white rings appeared, passing over his body. A white T-shirt and jeans replaced a black suit, and black hair replaced white hair.

The rings disappeared, and the person that remained was none other than Danny Fenton.

Tucker blinked, and his head snapped out of the memory. His eyes refocused, and Danny Fenton sat in front of him, still talking to Sam, his posture still far too easygoing for someone who wasn't even human.

His human form was impressively detailed. His unruly black hair, dash of freckles on his cheeks, blue eyes, and pointed nose—all signature traits of Danny. He had gotten it almost perfect.

Almost. 

It made Tucker's blood boil, and he struggled to push it down, keep it in check. Ghosts could feel intense emotions.

The calm mask slipped over him once more, and Tucker was empty. Just empty.

Just how, when he stared into Danny's eyes, he could see that same emptiness too. There was no humanity left. No, that'd died almost two years ago now. All that remained was a ghost. 

He wanted his friend back. But that was impossible. The only thing that he could do now was wipe all ghosts out so no one ever suffered the way Tucker was right now.

He was a hacker, so once he got the tech, programming it was a piece of cake. Okay, so maybe it was a little bit harder than that, but he was nothing if not determined.

And he was nothing if not a damn good programmer.

And now he had the power to fix this, end the ghostly invasion in Amity, end Phantom's terrorizing reign, and set his former friend free.

“What do you think, Tuck?” Danny turned to face Tucker.

“Huh?” Tucker grunted, his elbow nearly slipping from his desk. “Sorry, what are we talking about?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you really have been spacey today. Sleep well last night?”

No, he hadn't, actually. Because Phantom had set up another attack at 2 a.m. and so Tucker had to intervene.

Danny was wearing long sleeves today. Good. It meant that Tucker's shot really had nailed his bicep.

“No, sorry,” Tucker chuckled. “Was rushing to get Lancer's essay done. I can't work on it this weekend; my cousins are coming to town.”

“Again?” Sam asked.

No, they weren't. Tucker hadn't seen his cousins since Christmas. 

“Yeah, my aunt and my mom are in this whole midlife crisis thing right now. Want to make sure we all bond properly or something.” Tucker waved his hand haphazardly. “You know how moms are.”

That was the perfect trigger for Sam, who huffed expectantly. “Oh yeah, don't even get me started. My mom is still trying to make me bond with Kate. Kate's two years older than me and was the head of her cheer team. Like, hello? You can only imagine what her playlists are like.”

“You should blast some death metal next time,” Danny said.

“Trust me, I have. It's the only way to get her to shut up.”

“Must not be death enough.” Danny flashed his teeth in a mischievous smile. “I’m sure I can help put together a playlist if you want.”

That cocky motherfucker…

Did he enjoy gloating over everyone? Did he really laugh at them when he was alone, all the stupid, idiotic, airhead humans who he thought didn’t notice anything?

Squashing his emotions was suddenly too difficult, and just before the internal tea kettle was able to whistle, Tucker was saved by the bell.

Oh, thank god.

Tucker was out of his seat before anyone else, scooping his notebook from his desk, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and racing out the door before Sam or Danny could catch up.

Still, when against his better conscience he glanced over to his friends, he didn’t miss the subtle look Danny gave him or the green glint in the corner of his eye…

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

If only it was easy.

****

[read more of my work]

[cerebralinvasion]

yandere february event day 22

 “oh, you aren’t that drunk, don’t worry. i just drugged you.”

you’re not someone who gets drunk. that’s not to say you don’t drink at all, you just don’t have a tendency to let it get that far. you don’t really drink unless you're with someone else who offers first, and even then you only have a glass or two at most. you don’t even have a lot of friends who ever offer to drink with you. the only one that comes to mind is dazai, who’s offers to go to bars you often reject. you didn’t like bars. the atmosphere, the noise, the people, it’s just not all that enjoyable to you. but today he’s been awfully insistent, and you found yourself conceding. 

according to dazai, this was an important place to him. an off the beaten path, hidden gem kind of place. you’ve never even heard of it. bar lupin, located in a less populated part of yokohama. a side of the city you didn’t often explore. but since it was important to him, you were less apprehensive about trying something new.

a mimosa. simple, and low in alcohol content. that’s what you usually order and that's what you ordered today. not without escaping a small jab from dazai, of course. a joke asking you if you’re a lightweight or something.

dazai was always exceptionally talented when it came to sleight of hand, you knew that well. you’ve seen him escape from handcuffs and chains in a matter of seconds. it never particularly worried you, you trusted him. you never thought that any of his questionable skills would end up hurting you. you started to question that conclusion as you felt your body grow heavy and found forming coherent thoughts to be more and more difficult. 

“dazai…? am i. drunk? i’ve never been drunk before… i only had one drink. why am i alerby drunk?” you mumbled, swaying back and forth on the stool.

dazai giggled, a kind of giggle that you would’ve called cute in any other situation. but the innocence in it only made the sound creepy.

“oh, don’t worry, you're not drunk. i just slipped a little something into your drink. you’ll be out soon.”

you slowly turned your head to establish eye contact with him as you processed his words.

“you drugged me…? what are you gonna do to me?” your voice shook, both from fear and from whatever was running through your system. “i'm not going to do anything. i’ll just take you back to my home, and you’ll be safe there.”

“bbut i don’t wanna go to your house, i waana go home.”

“well i think you should let go of that. there’s no point thinking about it, you won’t be going home again.” dazai smiled so gently at you while he spoke.

you started attempting to mumble some further protest but you found yourself unable to form any more words. then you felt yourself falling, slumping over. only to be caught by dazai before your head could hit the table. he cradled you in his arms, sushing you as you tried to talk.

“don’t fight it, just relax. i promise, i'll keep you safe.”

you can’t remember anything after that.

[goosewriting]

Hi hi! I've been meaning to request scenario 2 with Leo being the one to ask reader out, with prompt blue 8 ("where have you been all my life?") being said by Leo) and pink 11 ("you're telling me you believe in love at first sight?" Being said by the reader)

Destiny (rottmnt Leo x reader)

scenario 2: Character A comes to talk to Character B, pretending to be B’s s/o when a stranger is making B uncomfortable. Leads to them asking B out on an actual date. prompt 8: "Where have you been all my life?” “Hiding from you” prompt 11: “You’re telling me you believe in love at first sight?” “I’m starting to.”

summary: Leo saves reader from a creep and they start talking.

relationship: Rise!Leo x GN reader

warnings: fluff, stranger yokai being a creep

word count: 1k

A/N: i think it’s the first time i’ve ever written or even had to flesh out the “i’m her boyfriend, who are you? at the bar” trope lol technically it didn't end in Leo asking them out on a date but instead in asking for their number sdfsfd still i like how this one came out ^^ thank you for requesting, enjoy~

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

It was just another day in the Hidden City, and you happily skipped to your favourite food truck at the plaza. Around this time you would always come down here to get your beloved meal because there was no other like it anywhere else. The owner already knew you by name as well, and would usually have your food ready. It seems that today there was a new employee however, as you arrived and your order was not waiting for you on the counter as usual.

So you approached the truck and started talking to the guy after telling him what you wanted. He didn’t seem too interested in smalltalk though, so you gave a slight pout and stepped aside to wait for the food in silence. 

You were about to take out your phone to entertain yourself when someone approached you. They called out to you and you made the mistake of looking in their direction, because you recognised them to be the creepy yokai who for some reason not only knew your name but also this schedule of yours and would usually lurk around, waiting for you, then try to chat you up and have you follow them somewhere. As politely but sternly as you could, you tried to make it clear for the umpteenth time that you were not interested.

– – –

On the opposite side of the plaza, Leo happened to be taking a stroll, deciding what to do. He patted his stomach, concluding that he was indeed hungry and should get some food. There was this food truck nearby that he had seen a couple of times but hadn’t tried yet. He looked around until he found what he was looking for, but was distracted by your figure just mere metres from the truck. You looked very uncomfortable and some creep was clearly in your personal space. With furrowed brows he made his way towards the two of you; this will not be happening under his watch. (Besides, you looked like you were in line at the truck, maybe you could recommend him something off the menu.)

– – –

Just as your tone started growing more and more frustrated, the yokai took a step towards you, and you tried taking one back, but were blocked. A man-sized turtle with a blue mask around his head materialised out of seemingly nowhere and threw his arm over your shoulder.

“Hey babe, is the food ready yet?” he asked you. You were about to scold him for calling you ‘babe’ when you had never seen this turtle before in your life, but as his gaze shifted towards the other yokai, you connected the dots of what was happening. 

“Uhm, no, not yet. I’m still waiting” you answered after clearing your throat, and hoped that the creep would get the hint and leave already. 

“So who’s this?” Leo asked, shifting his position ever so slightly so you were partially shielded by him.

“Me? I’m just a friend” the stranger spat out. “We were having a nice conversation until you appeared, get lost. Who are you?”

“You are not my friend!” you said and gave them an angry look. “I don’t even know you, so please stop bothering me.”

“You heard them, they don’t want you here. I’m the boyfriend, by the way” Leo added with something akin to venom in his voice. “So get lost or things will get ugly.”

The stranger scoffed at that, looking at you, but Leo hid you completely behind him, blocking you from view. The yokai shook his head and muttered something to themself, then left with a grumble.

Once they were out of ear-shot, Leo turned around with a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry about butting in like that and for grabbing your shoulder” he apologised and scratched his neck. “You looked really uncomfortable and I thought I could help you out.”

“Not at all! You really saved me here, they’ve been lurking around for a while now” you explained. “So, thank you, …?” 

“The name’s Leonardo, but-” now that Leo took a moment to take a proper look at you, he noted that you were drop-dead gorgeous. He was gonna add a ‘but you can call me whatever you want~’ to his introduction but all his confidence left his body at this realisation. “Y-you can call me Leo.”

With a smile you give him your name as well, and just then you get called from the food truck to pick up your order. You ask him if he has ever eaten here, and upon his negative response, you gasp in shock, and order some more things from the menu for him to try. You sit on a nearby bench and eat together, completely immersed in the conversation. 

When the food was gone and your bellies were full, you took a look at your phone to check the time; it was way later than you had anticipated and you announced you would have to be on your way soon. But you had clicked so well, neither of you wanted to leave just yet. With a dramatic sigh, Leo leaned his elbows on his knees, with his head in his hands.

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks somewhat rhetorically, with a comically enamoured look.

“Hiding from you, apparently” you respond sarcastically with a snort, thinking how your schedules didn’t align at all and that’s why you only met him here by mere chance, though you would have loved to meet him sooner. 

Since you had to go, Leo asks for your number, and you exchange your contact info. 

“You know” Leo says as you both stand up from the bench, and he takes one more look at your name on his phone screen with a silly smile, then pockets the device. “It really must have been destiny for us to meet. I mean, what are the odds of you being in that situation just as I was walking by?”

“Destiny?” you laughed. “You’re telling me you also believe in love at first sight or something?”

Leo gave you a smug grin, which you admitted was very attractive, and softly grabbed your chin, leaning in ever so slightly.

“I’m starting to” he whispered just barely loud enough for you to hear. And with a wink, he said his goodbyes and left, leaving you a flustered mess. 

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @koalaray, @maribatshipper, @whygz

[regretisstoredintheme]

Leo x Jumpy!Feline Yokai!Reader

Warnings: Leo having more rizz than anyone on the god damn planet

—-

I KNOW I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT.

Imagine. 

Ivy covered walls, the fresh smell of coffee, the constant, sluggish faces of regulars and newcomers alike, the clear windows and fresh air coming in— well, as fresh as you could get in the hidden city. 

This, was peace, only interrupted by the occasional jingle of a bell, gently letting you know that a new customer had walked in. This was what you loved about life, being able to sit back and just enjoy your own company without feeling lonely. When you could forget all that made you anxious. 

As a feline, you always had a certain jumpiness about you. Call it instinct.. call it trauma.. whatever it was, it seemed even the slightest sounds could set you off— like someone pushing on the pull door or sneaking up behind you. You weren’t exactly quick to trust, being how much you were put down and infantilized, but here, nobody could tell how much noise got to you. Here, there was peace, calm, relaxation. And nothing could take that away. Or… so you thought. 

BAM!!

Jumping 5 feet into the air, you felt hot liquid seep into your apron, passing the uniform you were wearing and burning into your fur. You hissed in pain— holding for dear life to the kettle in your hand as you slammed it on the counter. Commotion? At this hour? Did they have any idea what time it was!? You were used to the occasional angry customer, but usually your coworkers handled it! Now there was coffee all over you, and the sound of arguing echoing in your ears. It was hard not to glare at the customers that had walked in— four, or — three?? You couldn’t tell what they were arguing about, it was hard to tell with the anger bubbling in your veins. They nearly gave you a heart attack!!! And they were still yelling!? 

Trying to keep your composure, you smoothed down your ears and hair, and all but threw your apron off of you. This was your first time working a shift all by yourself, you were not about to blow your top! 

“Ahem-!” You cleared your throat, staring down the intruders as they all turned to you. Now that your vision wasn’t as bleary, you could see the culprits a little clearer. An odd bunch they were, all clad in bandanas of different colors. Red, blue, orange, and purple, respectively. They all seemed to match in different ways, and the thought suddenly occurred to you that you may have just ‘ahem’ed at a biker gang. 

“I’m not bailing you guys outta this one.” The smallest stated, folding his arms and looking away from the others. 

“Ah- “ The largest - with a red bandana - chirped, shifting under your gaze, “I- haha- I’m so sorry Mx, my brother surely didn’t MEAN to KICK your door open.” He chuckled nervously, then turned to death glare at his brother in blue - who you assumed to be the culprit. “Looks like you have been caught Blue-handed my fine glass breaker.” Purple laughed, leaning into his staff… was he always carrying that?? Was it a weapon of some kind?? Nevermind— unimportant. 

‘Blue’ rolled his eyes at their comments, but seemed to relent. “okay fine, I kicked it a little harder than I thought.” He turned away, folding his arms. 

As you looked closer, they all had weapons. Tonfas, some sort of mace, swords… the works! And they looked pretty beat up too — possibly from mugging someone in an alleyway… you felt sweat bead on your brow, but you shook your untrusting thoughts away, motioning to the four seats at your bar. “Where uh—“ the largest went to spoke again, but you motioned to the menu on the wall, knowing what his question was. “Not much of a talker, huh?” Blue chided snarkily, a smirk replacing the embarrassment he had earlier. 

“I wouldn’t wanna talk to someone who had busted down MY door either!!” Red scolded, and it hit you that he was probably the one yelling earlier. “Seriously, there’s a time and place for your flashy nonsense.” He huffed, folding his arms. “Hey, I was the one who suggested the cafe in the first place!” Blue combatted, hands out in exasperation, “We’re all tired from hustling Baron, so how about you take a chill pill, huh?” The smile he put on only made your blood boil hotter, your ear twitching as you decided to tune out the two’s argument.

Sidling over to where the other two had sat down, Purple and orange both looked like they were also trying to ignore their bickering brothers. You held up your notepad, giving the two a soft smile, “what can I get for you?” 

The smaller one jumped in his seat with excitement, ordering a grilled cheese with a peppermint mocha. His companion in violet spoke with elaborate words that were hard to understand , but you made out that he wanted a tall coffee, dark, with one sugar. “Right away, mr…?” You quirked a brow, and Purple seemed to jump at the opportunity, “Donatello, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He beamed proudly at his introduction, forgetting to offer his hand. 

“And I’m Mikey!” the shorter one said, a bright smile still on his face as he shook your hand. 

You returned the smile, “a pleasure.” 

Making your way to the other side of the bar, you noticed the other brothers had ceased their quarrel, bringing relief to your system.. as well as an idea. 

No.. no it was too petty… or.. was it..? 

Holding up your notebook, your eyes shifted on Red, wordlessly demanding his order first. The turtle seemed to stumble, glancing at the menu several times and swallowing his anxiety. To a degree you could empathize with him, but you had to let this play out. 

“I’ll get uh.. Um er a.. “ he fiddled with the ends of his bandana, feeling the stare of his unimpressed brother in blue - who, surprisingly, didn’t interrupt. 

“A tall cinnamon apple coffee please, and a — a lemon square.” He gave a weak chuckle, and sighed with relief. 

As Blue opened his mouth to order, you promptly turned on your heel, already at your station setting up the coffee machine. You heard sounds of shock and snorts from behind you, but had to hold in your own chuckles. “Uh… hellloooo..?” Blue called, “I didn’t .. order..?” At his attempt to get your attention, you could hear his brothers start to snicker more, along with a few ‘shut up!’s and ‘cut it out!’s.

With a satisfied smirk on your face, you set the food of the others down near them, and then turned to leave. “Wah— hey!!” Blue called, and this time, you stopped in the doorway. “Hmm??” You glanced over your shoulder, making sure you seemed unsuspecting. “What’s with the cold shoulder?” He half laughed, “are you just not gonna take my order?” 

This time you couldn’t help the chuckle that left you, “oh, I’m so sorry, sir.” You lifted a hand, miming cleaning out your ear, “I guess I’m a little hard of hearing to people who slam my door open.” You mirrored the smirk he had given you earlier, purring quietly at your victory.

His brothers all but exploded. Laughter, teasing, you name it — blue was in for it now. Giving a strangled smile, he made a sort of ‘guiii..’ noise, avoiding your eyes. Truth be told, he had seen you jump when the door opened. Sure, he felt bad about it!! But admit that in front of his brothers?? You were basically giving him the death penalty!! “Look, uh, “ he tried his best to play it off, “I think we got off on the wrong foot..” 

“You mean kick?” You slipped in immediately, quirking a brow. 

Blue stared at you for a second, before his eyes widened, a smile spreading on his face before an unmistakable “pFF—“ left his mouth, riling up to actual laughter. He was laughing!? At your joke!? Your half-assed joke that was supposed to make him uncomfortable!??

“Where’d you get wit like that?” He leaned forward in his chair, oblivious to the way his brothers rolled their eyes, no longer interested. (Other than Mikey, who would occasionally glance at you two.) 

Unfortunately for you, his eyes sparkled intently, waiting for your answer with a joy in his eyes that you couldn’t place. “Uh..” your ears twitched, hearing a sound that was similar to a purr, and yet entirely different- and from him? Could turtles purr? Were you hallucinating? At the twitch of your tail, you flicked those curiosities away, keen on giving him a quick response. “Why? Did yours run dry?”

“Me? Dry?” He laughed deeply, “You don’t know how wrong you are..” he shook his head knowingly, outstretching a hand, “Leo. Leonardo.” He grinned, and, as you took his hand, he pulled you in close, “and I’ll have an iced caramel macchiato.” He clicked his tongue and winked, his smile wide as if he knew he’d won. “ Shouldn’t be hard for someone like you, Y/N.” 

Heat rose in your chest as he let you go, feeling your hair stand on end. It wasn’t unnatural for someone to read from your nametag, but hearing it like that somehow gave you chills, and you couldnt even begin to wonder why. You coughed, seeing Mikey’s shocked face in your peripheral, “Iced, huh?” You regained composure, turning back to Leonardo as if you had never gotten flustered, “isn’t it a little cold outside?“ you went back to make his coffee, trying to ignore the way your head had spun at his touch. 

“You know where it’s also cold?” Leo sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Run of the mill, 8:00 pm tomorrow evening.” The sound of the coffee machine nearly covered his chuckle, “I hear it’s supposed to be frigid~” 

..

He did not. 

“Really?” The sound of the coffee machine simmered down, allowing you to set up the drink with ease. Setting it in front of him, you gave him a small smile.

“Guess I’ll have to check it out.” 

[veryrealimagination]

The next time James Pendrick came through Toronto, it was with discretion. It seemed that every time he came back to the beloved city, it was met with disastrous consequences. His traitor of a wife, multiple inventions either destroyed or hidden, Terrence Meyers, Allen Clegg, his thoughts about saving the future, all in tragedy.

He also did so due to the nature of his visit.

With a hat pulled low, he made his way over to the small little bar at the end of an alleyway. James had been taken here prior by his paramour and they agreed to keep doing so when he was in town. It was easier to sneak away to whatever room he would be renting for the week. His home kept out visitors, so he was unable to take him in there. Once James managed to find places of discretion, he usually search out.

The place had a crooner as singer tonight. The song was heartbreaking, but their voice was smooth as some bourbons he’s had down in the American South. This time, he tried a house bottle and waited for his companion to show up. It took an hour, in which the singer went through another heartbreak story, a story about a dog, and something about a crossroads, before someone unceremoniously dropped in the chair beside him. “I was beginning to think that tonight wasn’t a good one,” he whispered.

“It almost wasn’t,” Llewellyn Watts muttered, “It’s a nasty case at work. Murdoch has a few theories, but Brackenreid sent us all home.” He glanced at the man sitting next to him. “Well, close to it, at least.” A shared smile, before they turned back to the stage. A glass of wine instead of a harder liquor, and they caught up on their own adventures. One glass turned into a third one before he allowed himself to kiss the man on the cheek. “We should head to the next place before I am unable to keep my tact.”

Through his second glass, James smiled in amusement before paying their tab and helping the man up.

-

The morning was warm.

James was curled around his bedmate, holding them in a stranglehold as he received the same. While they were bare under the sheets, nothing physical was happening. That was all last night, as the crispness of his sheets attested. While his body was performing its routine checks to make sure that he was still in working order, it appeared that it would not simply be a check for the other man as Watts’s body reacted in kind.

Then, lips found his collar bone. “Llewellyn,” he murmured. A hand, coated, started giving him delightful pleasure. “Ahhh.” The man then moved on top of him, continuing his ‘assault’.

Knocking on the door interrupted them. The man above him growled, surprising James but he felt a thrill at the noise. “If this is the same as last time…”

“Last time?”

He nodded, but wasn’t able to explain. This time, the knocking came with someone talking. *“James, it’s Murdoch and Thomas,”* a familiar voice called on the other side.

The younger man dropped his head on James. His delightful ministrations also stopped. “Almost exactly the same,” he pouted.

“Oh really?”

The man nodded against his chest. “A previous fling, he started something while I was trying to get ready, then Murdoch showed up.” He raised his head. “There’s not going to stop until seeing you. I believe I will hide in the water closet until they leave.”

James understood that, allowing the man to take one of the blankets from the bed to wrap himself in before grabbing a robe to cover himself. Opening the door, the two men were not impressed at his tardiness in answering. Or the fact he had not even started for the day. “Pendrick,” Murdoch said, forcing his way in.

“Murdoch, what a lovely surprise.” He nodded at Thomas, who he stepped aside to let in. “What is it now? I do believe I haven’t even started any sort of revolutionary experiments that would allow me to be targeted.”

Thomas led the nicer conversation. “Ashmi was broken out of jail, and explicitly killed by the person that did it,” he informed, “Discovered yesterday, dead for at least twenty four hours prior. Last night, we found the same for Sam Trenwith.”

Oh, well. “Well, if it happened last night, I can assure you, I was quite preoccupied.”

“Really?”

Murdoch, who had been paying attention a small bit, saw that there was more clothing that would be normal even for Pendrick to have been there for a few days. In fact, there was something about the suit…

“Incredibly vigorous discussion on the properties of a new material I have been working on. Stayed up until the Devil’s hour, when I almost dropped my drink.”

Brackenreid noticed with amusement when Murdoch rubbed the bridge of his nose after picking up a jacket. “That’s not what was dropped,” he panned. Looking over to his superior, he walked over to the water closet. “Get out here.”

The amusement grew. “Had some company last night, James?” He looked around for a lady’s corset or some undergarments. “Did she leave before you awoke?”

“Watts, get out of the closet!”

The Inspector glanced over in confusion. “Watts?”

Murdoch pointed at three different areas. “That was the suit Watts was wearing yesterday. Long johns are in the corner, while Pendrick threw his over by his suit. Tie on the bed, I recognize the pattern.” He pounded on the door. “Llewellyn Watts, you open this door and face this!”

The comment about company last night and what they were actually doing ran through Brackenreid’s mind. “Bloody hell.” Then, he focused on James. “You had sex with my younger detective?”

“You were more amused when you thought it was a woman,” he mentioned, trying to not get into more trouble and not realizing that it would be the opposite.

Murdoch, quite annoyed, tried the door knob and found it locked. A quick flick and a pick was in his hand. It wasn’t much to unlock the cheap thing and push the door open. “Get over here,” he hissed, dragging out the younger man by the ear. He stopped by the Inspector. “James Pendrick?!”

Watts made sure the bedding was covering his lower half, but his shoulders were left bare and he didn’t want to keep shrugging it up. “I do not perceive the problem of my current paramour, Murdoch,” he defended, twisting around. Murdoch had not let go of his ear.

Brackenreid pointed at Watts. “Two weeks of paperwork!”

“What?!” he yelped, both from the punishment he was receiving and the ear twisting that was still happening.

“Two weeks of paperwork, I’m having Mitchell watch you. Don’t trust Crabtree or Higgins to not allow you out. No after work ‘meetings’ with James Pendrick ever again.”

“I do not understand the issue you have with James. He has been shown numerous times to be an innocent and patient individual when events in his life conspire to ruin it and you have to continuously investigate him.” He pointed at Murdoch from an awkward angle. “You, of all, should be delighted that it wasn’t the same person that you caught me with the last time!”

Oh, he hated the reminder of that. “James Pendrick has an unfortunate track of bringing trouble.”

“So do you, I, the Inspector and most of the people in and connected to Station House Four,” Watts argued.

“Bloody hell,” the man repeated, “Get dressed, and we’re all going down to the Station.”

[otherworldlyhope]

Started another project because I literally can't stop myself now. Remember all that time ago when I proposed the idea of a Bdubs secret agent au? Well I wrote it.

It's called The Flowers in Your Eyes and I'm really excited for it! I'll post the first chapter here, and the rest will be on my ao3.

Chapter 1: Hail to the King

CW: death, gun violence Words: 3,843

Hidden deep within Aquatown, far from the prying eyes of the public is a warehouse. Its unassuming looks often turn people away, a simple stone facade with a metal shingle roof. The inside is always dark whether night or day. Maybe at one time it had been used for storage or anything normal, but now it has a completely different purpose.

Just below this warehouse lies a complicated door guarded by snarling dogs and a woman with a stoic expression that never leaves her face. If deemed worthy the door will open, leading to dozens more security measures. Fingerprint scanners, passcodes, and various other tasks lie in wait before any of the other doors can be open. Only after all these tests are passed is the final door opened, and the facade of the warehouse is completely stripped away.

Hermitcraft Environmental Protection, otherwise known as HEP, is both a well known and mysterious agency. To the broad public it’s merely a protection group. Volunteers in orange shirts take to the streets once a week and clean Aquatown of any dangerous substances that may threaten the town. HEP is happily spearheaded by the gracious mayor of the town. With his gleaming smile, and genuine love for his town there is no doubt in the trustworthiness of HEP. After all, how bad can a single company really be?

To the unfortunate few in the city that are aware, HEP is far from an environmental force. The true HEP is still mostly unknown, a select few know surface level details, but no one besides enemies and those on the inside are truly aware of HEP’s activities. Most of those who know about the true intentions of the agency usually don’t last long enough to tell another soul anyways.

Mysterious assassinations of greedy politicians, distribution of various drugs, intelligence gathering and many other shady tasks regarding the city falls on the shoulders of those working at the true HEP. It’s not a glamorous job, but it does pay well, and once you’re in you can never really get out. Well you can, but it usually it's in a coffin.

At the center of HEP is the mysterious agent known as DoubleO. He has been in his position from the very start of the agency, appointed by the mayor himself. While many were skeptical at first, he quickly proved his abilities. With dozens of recorded eliminations and countless unrecorded, there has never been an agent that has come close to his level of proficiency. Despite all attempts of less than savory parties, no one has been able to find a single bit of information on this person, and they never will.

DoubleO stands on a rooftop, his jacket whipping in the wind that funnels through gaps in the nearby buildings. He’s only two stories up, a fall that he can take easily, in fact he intends on taking it soon. Just down the street is a brightly lit bar full of college students. Their loud voices fill the block, and it makes him smile. It’s always good to have some good cover sound. Missions done in absolute silence always have him so much more on edge.

With a sigh he sits down, his entire back popping with the movement. Void, he really needs to go to his chiropractor, it’s been far too long since he got put in place and he could benefit from it now. He slides his gloves on, stretching his fingers to make sure they don't hinder his mobility in any way. The white fabric shines under the moonlight, but it doesn't catch his eye. It never does.

He slides his briefcase across the tiled rooftop towards him, unlocking it with a simple key. There’s a slight click as he flips open the latches and takes in the sight of the weapon before him. His eyes scan the contents for only a moment before he’s grabbing parts. With practiced motions he puts every piece in place, not even needing to double check his work.

Maybe a year ago he would have checked again and made sure that all the pins were done correctly, but now he has no doubt in his skills. It takes barely a minute to have the gun wholly assembled and balanced on the edge of the building. He pulls himself into position, laying across the tile.

The back of the gun is placed firmly against his shoulder as he moves the scope to be perfectly aligned. A voice sounds in his ear, but he doesn’t jump or even twitch despite the loud volume.

“DoubleO, the target is three minutes out, coming from the south. Black sedan, middle seat in the back row. There are three guards with him, others ready to be on site in minutes.”

“Got it X.” He says curtly, not wanting to say any more than he needs to on the rare chance that someone is in the alley below him. It would be unfortunate to add another unofficial name to his little black book, so he tries his best to keep himself inconspicuous.

He doesn’t move at all in the span of two minutes, only flexing his fingers over the trigger to make sure they don't get too tense. He’s learned from his previous mistakes to not hold them tight against the metal. As X gives him the one minute warning he begins his routine.

Breathe in for ten, then out for fifteen.

Relax the shoulders, and let them drop right into place.

Pull the pointer finger to the trigger and simply wait with held breath.

Not once in his three years of doing this has he broken this routine, and it has never failed him in return. Well, once it did. But he doesn't count that circumstance.

The black sedan pulls up to the sidewalk and the only person who steps out is a large man in the passenger seat. He pulls a radio to his mouth, scanning the streets for signs of anyone. Not once do his eyes find DoubleO’s scope. Only when he deems it clear does he knock on the window.

The two guards exit next, standing on both sides of the target as he finally emerges. His head glows in the moonlight, a lack of hair being a very reflective surface. He’s taller than both the guards at his side. At that observation DoubleO’s mouth turns up into a smile. Fantastic.

To the guards’ credit, they do a rather good job at keeping the target well covered. Unfortunately for them DoubleO is better than rather good at his job. He doesn’t let them even take a step, aiming directly where the moon shines on a hairless scalp.

It takes seven and a half pounds of pressure to pull the trigger on this particular rifle and he does it with ease. The back hits his shoulder harshly as a boom rings out across the street. He only takes a second to make sure the target is down before dropping his head and rolling to the side. The guards shout as they try to place where the shot had even come from.

By the time they figure out the building, DoubleO is already at the far edge. He rolls over it without a second thought, angling himself to favorably hit the ground. A slight weightlessness comes over him before rudely being interrupted by concrete. Still he takes it in stride, rolling into his feet with little effort.

The second he’s on the ground he’s pulling off the gloves and all his layers. They are neatly folded in his hands as he walks, his eyes focused on an old beat up Honda parked on the street. By the time he’s stripped of all identifying clothing he’s at the car. Without as much as a misstep in his gait he drops the clothes and his earpiece in the open window, barely nodding at the man inside.

The whir of a window rolling up fills his ears as he tugs his light gray sleeves down. The fabric is itchy on his skin, the seams in all the wrong places. Just as he hears yells echoing on the street, he ducks into the still rowdy bar. The bartender catches his eyes immediately and gives an almost imperceptible nod.

DoubleO picks a seat at the end of the bar and before he’s even down, the bartender has placed a half filled bottle of beer and a laptop before him. The seat is uncomfortable, a velvet lined backless barstool. Still he leans forward, pulling his elbows onto the bar. One hand wraps around the neck of the beer, and the other holds his face up.

The sweatshirt on his back bears the mascot of the nearby college, and on his laptop is a partially finished homework assignment. With almost no effort he blends right into the crowd of partying students. Just as he raises the bottle to his lips does he see the guards from before in his peripheral.

There’s much more than three and he’s almost impressed how quickly they mobilized. Still he focuses his gaze back to the laptop, lazily eyeing the problems in front of him. It’s chemistry, and immediately his face turns in disgust. The bartender smiles at his expression and leans forward on the counter.

“You regretting taking chemistry yet?” He asks casually, tapping his fingers against the bar. His eyes barely dart to the door, but DoubleO’s stay directly where they are. “I’ve been told that professor is an absolute nightmare .”

So there’s two of the guards entering the bar. DoubleO enthusiastically nods before taking another swig of the beer. It hits the bar top hard as he throws his hands out in an annoyed way.

“Every day I wish that I took psychology.” He sighs, then goes for another drink, making a show when he realizes the bottle is empty. An exhausted exhale leaves him as his whole body deflates onto the bar. “While I’m doing this dumb research paper, they’re doing nice little group projects. My dad was right, I shouldn't have gone into the sciences.”

He barely catches the way the seat two away from him settles. One of the guards sits heavily, rubbing his eyes as he waves the bartender over.

“I’ll take whatever he’s having.” The guard sighs, waving his hand towards DoubleO.

“Good choice.” The bartender says, grabbing two bottles from below the bar. One goes to DoubleO and one goes to the guard.

He starts to lay the act on hard, annoyed that the guard is sitting there and not just doing a quick sweep like he should be.

“Hey Ed,” DoubleO pauses, drunkenly waving his hand over his beer. “Wait, that's your name right?” When the bartender starts to correct him he just shakes his head and talks even louder. “Whatever. Did you know that with my gpa I could have gone to any college I wanted? But my dumb parents wanted me to stay close or whatever. I could have gone to like Harvard or somethin’, Harvard Ed.” He emphasizes every syllable, making a complete fool of himself as he slurs over random words.

Ed only rolls his eyes, pulling the beer away from him before he can take another sip.

“I think I might have to cut you off kid, that’s one too many when you’re supposed to be doing homework.”

So the other guard has left, it’s go time.

“Hey, that's unfair.” DoubleO whines, leaning over the bar to try and grab the bottle back. “You can’t do that.”

“Yes I can and I am. Now go home.” The bartender turns, setting the bottle on the second to right coaster. DoubleO notes it with pursed lips and then dramatically flops onto the bar. After a few seconds he props his head up, glancing up at the guard through half lidded eyes.

“Hey man.” He pokes the guard, giggling at the harsh glance he gets back. “Do you have any cigarettes? I promise I’ll like pay for your beer or somethin’, but I ran out and I am way too drunk to get some more . ” He sings that last part, internally cringing.

The guard sighs before nodding, casting a look at Ed who points to the no smoking sign. “Let’s head outside, kid.”

DoubleO stands quickly, then almost falls directly on his face. The guard reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him to his feet.

“Thanks mister, you’re nicer than my own parents ya know?” He mumbles as they exit the bar. DoubleO leads them into the alley beside it, greedily reaching out. “They hate smokin’, said it’ll give me cancer or somethin’. So I told them I’ll become a chemist and cure cancer so I can smoke all I want.”

He laughs heartily at his own words. The guard finally drops his wall a bit, giving him a placating smile and reassuring words.

“Hey did you see someone come in that bar in the last few minutes?” The guard says as he pulls a cigarette from the box. DoubleO all but rips it from his hands, and holds it to the lighter the guard produces. He makes a show of thinking as he pulls the cigarette to his lips.

“Uhhhhhh.” He leans against the wall, blowing the smoke right into the guard’s face with a laugh. “There was this one guy, all shady lookin’. He went to the bathroom after almost makin’ me spill my beer on myself. I was so mad.”

Gotcha.

The second the guard turns to look back at the alley entrance, DoubleO is moving. He drops the cigarette and reaches out, wrapping his forearm around the guard’s neck. His other hand comes up to stabilize the chokehold.

“Shhhh.” He hushes the gurgling man, slowly dragging him back towards a now opening door. His smile is wide as he rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna blow my cover.”

The bartender has opened the back door, holding it open as DoubleO drags the almost unconscious guard into the break room. He only tightens his grip when they’re out of the open space, and waits until the man goes limp against him. The second he does, he drops him, letting him fall into a heap of limp limbs and cigarette smoke.

“X is gonna be happy about this one.” The bartender looks down at the guard with an uncomfortable smile. “He was just complaining about how they were getting no info from Mr. Bright, but this should make his day.”

DoubleO rubs his eyes as he searches for something to tie the guy’s hands with. “I’m so glad he’s gonna be happy.” He says dryly, drawing out the so. “But tell him I hate the freaking bar jobs. Acting drunk is the absolute worst.”

“You’re so good at it though.”

“Oh shut up Mumbo.”

Mumbo only rolls his eyes, pulling the edge of his mustache with his fingers. “It’s not like we had much of a choice in the matter. He wasn��t supposed to sit down. He saw your face for far too long.”

“I know, I know.” DoubleO gripes, finally finding a length of rope that he fastens around the man’s wrists. “I have a dinner to get to tonight and this was supposed to be a quick in and out.”

“I’m sure Scar will understand.” Mumbo says. There’s a beat of silence and then the two erupt in laughter. Mumbo has to wipe his eyes afterwards, curling over his stomach.

“Sometimes you’re the funniest guy I know, Mumbo.” DoubleO chuckles, lightly punching the other man’s shoulder. “Do you think you can handle this guy until they pick him up?”

“Yeah.” Mumbo sighs, lightly kicking the man over. “I already called X so the team should be on their way soon.”

“Alright then I’m gonna dip. I gotta hurry if I want to get to dinner at a reasonable time.” DoubleO crosses the room, pulling the handle of the door. “I’m so screwed.”

“Alright I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There’s a motorcycle waiting just around the back of the bar when DoubleO turns the corner. He pulls the helmet on and curses X under his breath.

“You couldn’t have gotten me a car or something?” He mutters. “I’m gonna have to fix my hair and I’m already running late…”

He continues to complain to himself as he gets on the bike and kicks it on. The purr of the engine does settle him down a bit, and he quite enjoys speeding through the back alleys until he can merge onto a main road.

He checks his watch and sighs, pulling off onto a side street. He definitely doesn’t have time to go back to his apartment, so one of his safehouses will have to do. A lack of a shower doesn’t sit well with him, but he’s already far too late.

He basically runs through the parking garage, pulling the helmet off as he rushes through the seemingly abandoned building. The keypad has dust gathering on its keys as he punches in the code, and he hastily wipes his finger on his shirt. There’s no way he’s wearing this to dinner with the freaking mayor.

Luckily he’s prepared for these circumstances and finds much nicer clothes in the safe house. White button up and black slacks go on quickly, his shoes are still trainers, but he’ll have to make do. He musses his hair in the mirror and groans at the way the helmet pressed strands of it down it stupid ways. Whatever, he’s got to go anyway.

The bike is nice enough to calm his mood and by the time he pulls up to the building he’s feeling much better. The woman in the lobby waves at him as he passes like she always does, and he nods like every other time. When he enters the elevator there’s no buttons, but it starts to rise all the same.

This is really the only time he gets nervous honestly. Scar has always made him feel that way, and it wasn’t even really his fault. Just how things have played out up until this point still has the agent taking calming breaths before their meetings. He does a once over of his clothes in the reflective surface of the elevator and fusses over his collar before the ding of the door brings him back to where he is.

He clears his throat once before stepping out, marveling at the view just beyond him. The mayor was quite good at pulling strings, and so they would meet in this random skyscraper that DoubleO doesn’t think actually belongs to a company. They dine at the top floor with tinted windows and sound canceling walls. This is where the business is done.

His eyes flit over the Aquatown and then finally settle on the man sitting at the table just by the window. His hands are crossed over his chest, an obviously fake smile on his face. Once he meets DoubleO’s eyes he pointedly looks down at his own watch.

“Sorry Scar.” He apologizes, sitting across the table with him as quickly as he can. The white napkin in front of him goes on his lap as he actively avoids looking at the mayor. “Mr. Bright’s guards ended up being more of a nuisance than we thought. We did manage to get one for interrogation though, so overall I think it worked out.”

The mayor simply hums as he sips a red wine from his glass. The scar on his cheek pulls and DoubleO looks away quickly.

“I guess I can excuse it.” There’s a joking tone to his voice, but DoubleO knows Scar well enough that he can tell he’s not amused. “Is all that business going to be wrapped up then?”

DoubleO nods quickly, grabbing his own glass with slightly shaky hands. Weirdly enough these meetings always feel like having dinner with guardians after getting in trouble. He tries not to dwell on that though.

“After the interrogation we should be good, I was going to follow up on the Glasby family as their ties with Bright are too large to ignore. I-”

“That’s actually why I called you here today.” He falls silent as Scar speaks. “I’m assigning you to a long term undercover mission starting next week. All the information you need is in these files here.”

He pushes a rather large stack of papers towards DoubleO, who can only stare at Scar in shock. His mouth is wide open as he blinks, sure he’s heard it wrong.

“Me? Undercover?” His voice is slightly hoarse so he clears his throat. “You know that I don't really do that sort of thing. I’m sure Mumbo would be really happy to do it. That’s like his whole thing.”

“Mumbo is working on the new MooPop factory with Cub and Tango. Believe me, I’ve thought through all the options and I am confident that you can pull this off.” Scar puts his hand out, his tone softening just a bit as the agent grabs it. “You used to love undercover work, just remember that you’re the best for a reason. I didn’t take you off the streets just for you to doubt yourself like this.”

“What if I mess up again?”

Scar’s eyes darken for just a moment, his fingers squeezing tightly against DoubleO’s. Then just as quickly as it came, it disappears. “You won’t. I believe in you.”

DoubleO’s entire frame relaxes against the chair as he nods. “Alright, give me a rundown.”

Scar beams at his words and grabs some papers of his own.

“It’s much more detailed in the files, but this here is your target.” He scans the picture, seeing a pretty regular looking guy. The only really weird things are his white hair and the rather large scar over his left eye and spanning down his cheek. “His name is Etho Slab, at least that’s what he says it is. We are confident he’s a Mycelium Resistance member, and a quite high level one at that.”

DoubleO sucks in a breath, suddenly seeing the man with new eyes. There’s a slight feeling of familiarity, like he’s seen those eyes before.

“We’re dropping you in as a store owner that’s attached to a cafe he regularly goes to. Your apartment will also be relatively close as well. The goal is to become friends with him, get him convinced you want to join the resistance when he eventually spills, then get all the information you can.”

“Why don't I just nab him at the cafe and we get the information ourselves? I bet X could get it out of him.” DoubleO asks, leaning against the table with an elbow.

“With his status it’s highly unlikely we’ll get anything from him. That group is stubbornly loyal, so you just need to find a way to join in, get the information, and get out.”

“Sounds easy enough.” DoubleO says dryly.

“Exactly!” Scar exclaims.

“I was kidding. This is going to be awful.”

[moonogre]

Hello T! I would like to write to you with good news, if I can remain coherent enough.

It’s another absurd summer Friday in Montreal. My cousin J touches down for the first time in the city after the sky bursts open with the heaviest showers from the season. When I see J at the bus terminal I burst into tears, which I am prone to doing when I am often overcome with positive emotions. We swap tales: J tells me about an eight hour pedestrian lay over in New York City that is a skin crawling fever dream of grimy labrynthian metros, super sized rats, and escape routes predicated on the kindness of random strangers. They had also narrowly avoided some manner of altercation at Jamaica Station involving panhandlers and cocaine. My story is that I hadn’t finished tidying the apartment for their arrival because a last minute first date had devolved into a tousled half day of bed pleasures. My latest lover had left and came back and I had mostly tried to flirt my way past the strange things I revealed about myself over sweet cocktails and hand rolled pasta in my neighbourhood watering hole: how I had moved around a lot as a child, how my family had succumbed to the strange collective hypnosis of a religious order, how they had came focus on my quirks to an abusive extent, how my mother had hit me for the umpteenth and final time before I had pushed her down the stairs, and how all that business had come to an end only after that. We had laughed and I tried to assure her that I’m more sweet than creepy and it works despite my knife collection, shibari paintings and preserved organ specimens.

B picks up J and I and we go to a place where we can drink cocktails from a golden swan. We holler and laugh over mounting absurdities: are we meant to dress in leather for a fetish party we had been invited to tomorrow? Is B having another threesome— his second in a fortnight— with a charming gentleman that looked the splitting image of Mac DeMarco? We drink tequila in B’s jeep which has been affectionately termed the “car bar” for the evening. We go to another location: a basement speakeasy filled with smoke and hot with all the dancers sweating it out to disco. Our bartender looks like a runway model and makes us drinks: B has a Rusty Prick, J has an Apple a Day and I ask for “a fruity cocktail that is perfect for a basic bitch,” which turns out to be something sweet and delicious. We dance and are joined by a gaggle of girls, and one makes eyes at me and tells me that we should twerk together all night and make men buy us drinks. I laugh and my phone is dead, as per usual, and I cannot take her number; which is a shame because of our escalating flirtations. Her friends take J and B and I to another hidden bar within the speakeasy that is a tiny affair and there are hundreds of eucalyptus bundles handing from the ceiling. We are five rounds of tequila shots deep when we decide that it’s time to call it a night: during our hasty exit we run into B’s threesome prospects and I bend over cackling from the enjoyable stupidity of the night. We can’t leave now, so we go back in and I tell B that I am here to babysit this threesome into existence. There is a man break dancing and waving around a cane. Another man moved to me on the dance floor and holds me in his arms and whispers that he thinks I am the one for him and that I won’t ever break his heart and I laugh and agree despite knowing that none of these things are true: this is a ploy to get me, J, B and B’s potential bedfellows free alcohol. I am a lesbian and have no intention on remembering anything about this man past my letter to you. B sees this all unfold and laughs at me from across the room, and rescues me when my dance partner becomes too insistent in his necking, which may have been fine had I been awarded with the drinks I had asked for. But they never came.

B makes good progress getting to know the folks for the ménage-a-tois. J and I stumble back outside and I insist we retire for the evening. I abandon B to his machinations. J and I cackle the whole way home.

We miss you. We love you. We are happy! We promise 🥰

[calliedion-dungeon]

𖤓Sore Kisses

Picture Kath on Pinterest

Chapter 4. Gimme Sympathy

Read on ao3 here <<<

Warnings: MDNI +18, Smoking, Heavy Drinking, Fluff and Angst (later) Swearing, Crossdressing (later), Adult Content, Eventual Smut, Blonde Mary Goore!! Everyone is a Little Shit in here, later it gets all Soft and Smutty, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Trope.

A few weeks later, you were able to exhibit your work that you have been developing throughout the year at the art school, you don't like to invite anyone to the last exhibition that happens every end of course, but Frank, as he is, upon finding out that it would be the last exhibition, he organized everyone to go see your work, there was nowhere to hide when you saw startled the group approach you as you were talking with one of your favorite teachers about a scholarship that they were offering you.

The arts school where you study has several small rooms that make up the gallery, the building is quite old, since at some point it was the first school in the history of the city, becoming its heritage, the wooden boards that they cover the floor they creaked all over the place, people had already gotten used to the sound of each creaky step, the walls of the whole school were white, that didn't make it boring because there was always something on display created by the students, these walls were adapted so that nobody had the need to paint or scratch them.

The teacher noticed you were somewhat distracted when you saw the small group enter the gallery, you mentioned that your friend brought company, they really didn't stand out that much in the art school, there were people who were the same or more alternative, but for you, it was as if they were walking with a beam of light on top, you didn't know why, you were looking for him with your eyes, with relief you found him, although a few seconds later, you consciously realized that and changed your mind.

It was unusual for your eyes to see Frank’s friends in a place at broad daylight, so illuminated, they always seemed to be nocturnal creatures in hidden bars and alleys, you could even see details on everyone's faces that you couldn't in a dark and smoky place, as it usually happened. You couldn't deny them entry, besides, if they were there it was because they wanted to, right? It was bizarre to say the least, not in a million years you would’ve asked them to come, you see Nick looking around, and of course with Cami, but Mary? Didn’t he had nothing better to do?

When they greet you they already know that it must be from afar, no one tries to kiss you on the cheek or shake your hand anymore, you appreciate that, you see carefully that they do not approach your drawings and photographs, but Frank guides his people to see them when he finds your hanging works on the walls.

They pour out praise that you don't know whether to believe or not, but you say thank you anyway, because you have no way to deny their compliments, when Mary stands next to you, you cross your arms looking away, he looks at your photographs and not in a hurry, he observes intently and that makes you nervous, because one of the photographs is a self-portrait, all this was much easier without people who knew you around.

“They are all naked, the quiet ones always have their kinky side, uh?” he teases near for you to hear, how dare he insinuate that this is something made for vulgar delight, you turn to look at him, squinting.

“It’s called study of human form, idiot” he makes that stupid smug face, because again, you fell for it.

“Are they models?” his tone doesn’t change, as if he ignored your words, walking slowly closer to you, following the path that you’re blocking ‘cause you’re covering your photo from him.

“Yeah, people volunteer to be drawn or photographed, this is my roommate, Jenn, they’re very muscular” you point to a picture of your roommate doing a push-up, to make all their muscles show you did a trick with light and shadows.

“Cool, so I can model, then?” just as he gives you a toothy grin, quickly you turn your face away knotting your brows.

“I hardly think anyone will find something worth picturing…” you couldn't finish insulting him because you feel something gently push your shoulder to get you out of front of the photo.

“You don’t know what I got… This… oh damn! Nice! Who is this?” he exclaims openly and whistles “How do we know her?” you curse inside, only letting out your grunting and frowning, your self-portrait photo is also a nude, it is your image overlaid in various poses placed inside a tub, a wet cloth covers your face and the pink water only covers your mons pubis, everything else was perfectly visible, you wouldn't mind if you hadn't noticed beforehand that he wasn't looking at your work as art.

“Read the tag, genius” As soon as he reads the tag, his face turns red, you expected that by reading he would understand that it was you and he would walk away in terror, but no, now he was looking more carefully, somehow his eyes look darker “No! Frank! tell him stop watching!”

Because of your whining, Frank appears thinking that Mary is bothering you again, when he realizes what is happening, he covers his face in the direction of your photo, incredibly uncomfortable as the shameless metalhead keeps staring at your figure, before anyone could say anything else, your phone rings.

Mary didn't even hear that your phone had rung and that's why you had left, he thought you were upset because he was looking insistently at your photograph, the white corridors of the unknown school had him confused where to go to look for you, but it didn't last too long for him to hear your yelling in a room at the end of the hall, you were alone next to a piano with the phone in hand talking angrily. Determined to make sure that you’re not angry at him, he waits outside for a bit, peering through the windows of the door.

“…The fucking landlord is throwing us out?... What did you do!?” your growing vexation sweated from all your pores, impotence overflows your voice, you don't want to cry because you know that Jenn will too as soon as you hang up the phone “Un-fucking-believable, dude! What am I supposed to do?” you hang up the phone wanting to throw it even if it gets destroyed, but it's all you have at the moment, you can't even think straight.

You let yourself fall on the bench defeated, squeezing your lips with tears in your eyes, anger invades you more than you can control, especially being alone you let it out in the form of bitter tears which you don't even bother to wipe away, you stay a moment like that in your seat.

Mary walks into the room stealthy as a cat, you jolt once you realize that he is standing next to you, he finds you crying and immediately becomes defensive, looking furiously for who knows what. You try to hide your face, you wipe your eyes with the collar of your shirt, not caring if it gets smeared with your eyeliner.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he’s visibly upset by your grimace.

“No... it's not… My roommate…” you fail to explain, sighing and swallowing hard trying to undo the knot in your throat.

“Did they do something to you?”

“No…” as soon as you respond his body relaxes, he sits next to you rubbing his hands together not knowing what to say, he attempts to put a hand on your shoulder but pulls back from doing so, your muffled sobs made him feel anxious, it was the sudden need to ease your pain.

With a broken voice you told him roughly what had happened, Mary wasn't the first person you would have thought of telling, but he was already there. What had happened was that Jenn was doing pull-ups on a pipe of the apartment where you live, or the two of you lived, it turned out that this pipe was a water pipe and thanks to their weight it ended up breaking, causing the entire apartment to flood and consequently you can't live there anymore, the landlord knows you weren't even there when that happened so you're off the hook regarding paying for damages. Still, it meant you had nowhere to live at the moment, you were terrified that it would happen again and you didn't know what to do.

Except for a few random comments, Mary listened to you attentively, it even seemed that for once he was taking your situation seriously, but that thought escaped you when he told you that he had to do something and he just left the piano room, leaving you alone, you sigh feeling horrible for a while, taking more time than planned, before going out to face the rest of what is left of the exhibition.

Leaving the piano room Frank approaches looking for you, the news did not take long to travel, he was already aware of what happened, he wastes no time in consoling you and making you an offer that would not have occurred to you even at your worst moment, your thoughts were still slipping in his words, you couldn't find an immediate answer.

“We have a spare room, why don’t you come live with us?”