#as it is a formal sort of yeah i've been away and will still be for a time thing

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [4]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 7.1k

nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.

ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!

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TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud

___________

In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.

But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.

While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.

But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!

“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”

It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.

You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”

Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.

You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.

“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”

He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his. 

“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”

He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”

The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.

With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.

Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.

Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.

Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.

It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?

Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.

           [17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6.            [17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊

Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.

You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.

“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.

“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”

“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”

Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”

“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”

He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”

You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had. 

Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.

“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”

“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye. 

“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”

Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.

“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”

You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.

There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.

Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”

Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?

You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.

A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.

“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”

Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.

You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.

“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”

Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.

“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”

Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.

“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”

“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”

You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.

He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.

“It's like I never even knew you at all.”

He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”

Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?

It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.

For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.

“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”

Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.

Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.

“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”

Walking away was easier said than done.

You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.

They might be busy with their own family. 

Unlike you.

As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated. 

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.

As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head. 

Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice? 

An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.

So yes, it was the right decision!

But you were to be married .

Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.

Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.

Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.

           [18:01] Jinnie: where are you?            [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out.            [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒            [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait            [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧            [18:03] You: was on a date            [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon            [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.

You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed. 

Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.

           [18:04] You: wow I just remembered that            [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!

There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.

           [18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there            [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not            [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later            [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official             [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that…            [18:10] You: considering… ya know            [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨            [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is            [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌            [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’???             [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!

You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.

           [18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this            [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp            [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000            [18:25] You: WOW            [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY????            [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌            [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet

The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.

Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.

“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”

You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”

“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.” 

He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.

He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”

He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”

His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver. 

“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”

His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.

If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.

“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"

"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."

"I knew it."

He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.

“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”

He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.

“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”

A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.

“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”

“I don't think it's that easy.”

“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”

Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.

Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.

It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.

Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices. 

You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup. 

As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.” 

You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.

From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.

It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.

He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”

“Thank you for everything, Jin.”

His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.

“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”

It was a joke, obviously.

But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.

Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.

He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you. 

The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?

“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”

You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.

Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him. 

When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace. 

His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.

But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?

“God… You gotta stop doing that.”

“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”

There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.

Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group. 

When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.

He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.

His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”

Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?

“You're such an idiot, you know that?”

“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”

He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.

“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!” 

Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.

Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.

           [18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol             [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird?            [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird            [18:57] You: but yes            [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why            [18:58] Mimi: 🤨            [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes            [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy

Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.

            [18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out             [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but            [18:58] Joonie: I told you so            [18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰            [18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁            [18:59] You: blocked🚫

“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.

By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.

The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.

You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.

But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.

The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:

“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”

Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.

But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.

“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”

Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.

“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”

Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.

“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”

In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.

The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.

And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.

“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”

“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.

“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”

Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”

“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”

“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.

Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.

“Jungkook—”

“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?” 

He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.

It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.

As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”

“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”

“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.

“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”

“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.

In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true. 

This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.

“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”

Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.

That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.

But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down. 

Obediently, Jungkook follows.

“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”

“But she’s not.”

“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”

They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?

Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.

It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.

Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.

In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.

His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.

“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.

Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.

When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.

Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.

In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.

The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said. 

Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.

You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.

Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.

But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.

“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.

“He needs time to process, leave him be.”

Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.

“Jungkook, let us talk.”

“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”

The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.

“Jungkook please, I—”

You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.

Then you felt it.

Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine. 

You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.

Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.

Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.

Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.

[celestie0]

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

[ghouljams]

In your tags with the "not moose" breaking the Witch's wards you said you had to nerf her. Now all I can think about how insanely strong Witch is. Since it's a long generation of witches in her family- I guess she's well known in the magic community. Maybe they even invite her to be apart of some witches coven 👀. But she always refuses because she likes doing her own thing. But imagine she has to go to like certain meetings and what not and Price sees her in some formal witchy garb 👀👀👀

I haven't talked much about other witches in this au! I keep meaning to. Yes, Witch has been invited to multiple covens, but she prefers her privacy. Witch's family is well known as old magic, and older covens often invite her because they know she's got that strong ancestral tie to her magic. New covens of young witches often invite her because they think she's a novice witch. She does a lot of "makeshift" magic because she knows it so well, and where old witches would see her as somewhat of a prodigy, new age witches see her as inexperienced and unprepared.

As you might imagine that does not fly with Witch. So she only goes to coven meetings for 1 of 2 reasons: for a sounding board on a problem(old witches), or to be petty(new witches). Here's Witch interacting with a very condescending witch, and Price seeing her in her formal witchy clothes.

You snap a card down on the coffee shop table, the crisp sound of the cardstock against lacquered wood is music to your ears. You study the card, the mice, and jot down a few notes in your nearby journal. A cup of tea is set down in front of you, you're quick to swipe your cards out of the way.

"Are you reading tarot?" The girl, you think she's the owner, asks.

"Uh," You look at your Lenormand deck, "Yeah, I am." It's usually easier to lie to people when you don't want to explain what it is you're doing. You don't always want to have a conversation with a stranger about magic and how they have a friend that's really into "that sort of thing."

The girl sort of... scoffs, and rolls her eyes. Rude. "You know it's not all tarot right? That's an oracle deck," She tells you(it's not), sitting down across from you. You don't remember inviting her company, but it's fine. You close your notebook and gather your cards back into their deck. You're not really a fan of being tested like this.

"You read cards?" You try to smile, and look friendly. You wonder if you could make all her hair fall out. She gestures at the store generally. You look around at the, sigh, occult artwork and gothic vibes. Sort of overplayed if you're being honest. You can spy a few "Wicca-pedia" books on the overstuffed shelves. There's a table of crystals for sale, that explains why you're so itchy.

"I'm a witch," She says returning your smile.

"Neat," You already want to text your sister, or Rún, about this. "What do you practice?" New witches always want to talk about their practice, and it gives you time to shuffle your cards.

"Right hand path mostly, but recently?" She leans forward, whispers conspiratorially, "I've been dealing a lot with the fae." You pause your shuffle, your stomach clenching unpleasantly.

"Really?" You ask, "I thought you were supposed to stay away from them."

"Oh, yeah, you should definitely stay away from them," She nods, "They're dangerous for beginners, but once you know how to deal with them you can get them to do all sorts of stuff for you." You snap a card down on the table, a nervous habit from your mother.

The Mice again.

That's not your card.

You glance around the shop, the people milling about. You don't need to see them to know what they are, you can feel it. The mice in the storehouse, waiting for the lights to go out before they gorge themselves.

"So how long have you been practicing?" The dumbass asks.

"Not long," You mumble, still scanning the shop for anyone you might recognize. It's not technically a lie, in the grand scheme of things you really haven't been a witch long. You know witches far longer lived and far longer practiced. You shuffle your card back into the deck and set it on your notepad.

"I've been at it for about five years now," She powers through you ignoring her, "Do you have a coven or anyone you're learning from?" You glance at her, barely paying attention, as you pull a coin from your pocket and a pin from your skirt.

"No, I'm-"

"You should really be learning from someone," She cuts you off "magic can be dangerous for beginners." You ignore her harder, jabbing the pin into your thumb and smearing the blood on the silver coin. "Uh, sweetie?" You reach to tug a sugar packet free of its container on the table and break it open over the coin, what else, what else? Payment, threat, bait- you pull a lighter from your pocket and melt the plastic pin head to stick it to the coin. Assurance, good, done. "What are you doing?" The girl sounds annoyed, like you're making a mess for no reason.

"Making a fae ward," You tell her, she scoffs. Rude, again.

"You need a little more than some random trash to do a spell," She shakes her head, waves a hand. You take the opportunity to flick the coin off the table with practiced fingers as she tells you how badly you need a mentor and how you can't believe everything you see about magic on the internet. The coin goes flying, and pings neatly against the leg of a chair before starting to pinball around the cafe floor. "-you should really come to a coven meeting, see what real magic looks like."

You can feel your magic tracing its web through the store, you're not sure how much more real you can get with it. Not when you can see the fae customers trying not to jump away from your spell. Still, an insult is an insult. You fold your hands on the table and level your uninvited guest with what you hope is a neutral expression.

"When do you meet?"

-

You're remembering why you hate covens as you get ready. First of all you've been drawing wards on yourself all day, and snuck in a ritual bath, then you had to find your great-grandmother's old chatelaine since your ritual robes don't have any pockets. Most importantly you forgot how fucking cold it is when you're just in the gauzy ritual fabric your aunt made for you.

You check the clock, you're running a little behind so you don't have time to put on anything else. That's just great. Maybe you'll skip it. But then that stupid- Ugh. You take a breath to steady your emotions, no sense in getting worked up when you're so thoroughly doused in magic. You grab a length of Mal's lace from your closet and pin it in place to veil yourself. No way are you letting these little dumbasses stick anything on you.

Another quick check of the clock as you lace your heels, then you're out the back door. You stop yourself at the fence, stare out at the snowy winter landscape. You can already feel the frostbite setting in.

"lace looks good on you," Price whispers, his fingers feel so rough where they brush your back. You hum, and turn to face him. His eyes drop immediately to your chest. You wait for him to decide to meet your gaze again, and find yourself feeling a tad self conscious. You've never been self conscious about going to a ritual sky-clad before. Witches had a long history of dancing naked in the moonlight after all.

"Since when do you cross the fence unannounced?" You ask, trying to bring his attention back where it's meant to be.

"Since when do you leave the house with so much skin showing?" He fires back, stalking around you to check the back like a shark. You lift your veil for him, let him trace his fingers down your spine. They stop short of the draped fabric covering your ass, and you suppress the shiver it draws from you. You let your veil drop back over his hand, obscuring his view.

"I'm going to a ritual."

"Any reason they're getting the works?"

"I'm trying to prove a point." You sigh. "I may have gotten a little-"

"Petty?" Price fills in, you're glad you don't have to say it. His hand smooths over your shoulder, sliding under the lace to cup your neck. "Anything I should be worried about?" You tip your head, feeling the curl of his fingers against your throat, the lingering warmth of his cigar still on his fingertips. You wonder if it'll leave a mark.

"No." It feels too plain an answer, but you doubt there's anything he could do even if he was worried. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, especially when other witches are involved.

Price hums, and you find the sound resonant as he tips your head back to rest against his shoulder. His body presses flush to your back, and you let it. You want nothing more than to sink into him, to let yourself relax into the dangerous hold he has over you, but you know your own ego. If there's one thing you can't stand it's a witch that thinks she's untouchable. You'd hate to see fresh talent eaten before it'd had a chance to blossom.

"You could escort me," You say, the idea striking you suddenly. What better way to show a new witch the dangers that hide behind fae kindness than to bring Price as your plus one? You're sure he's eaten more witches than he's comfortable divulging, but more importantly the wild listens to him. If he can take you through the forest you won't have to be cold so long.

"And what do I get, for this service?" He asks.

"What do you want?"

His hands go to cup your breasts almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, the thin fabric of your ritual robe doing little to hide his callused grip as he squeezes the soft flesh.

"Ten minutes," He breathes.

"You know you can have more than that," You smile.

"Not with you like this," His hands slip down, cup the softness of your stomach, hover over the pleat of fabric covering your legs.

"Alright," You agree, "ten minutes-" you can feel the ripple the goes through him, a deal of temptation being made, "-but only after, and you can't rip anything."

"Of course not," He agrees, "I want to see my witch dressed up again after all."

Inspiration images for the witch's ritual wear

[averagevamptboy]

a prince x court best friend drabble i whipped up for mutual at 1am but got too invested...

all the stereotypical prince shit— it's so terrible that you’ve always gotten everything you wanted, the whole kingdom at your feet, lines of people who want to date you and inherit the kingdom with you someday. but they don’t know you’re a little faggot, and i make no errors in reminding you that every time that i’m making you whine for more.

this time, i've been invited for dinner, and i sit across from you alongside our parents. they discuss some sort of proposal and upcoming banquets. and i don’t look at you, just stifling a smirk as i stare at my plate. 

then, we excuse ourselves quietly as our plates are taken, and we head into the library, since i’m here to help with your lessons today. though we’re about the same age, your coddling in the castle leaves you clueless in skilled subjects, so your parents have so kindly asked me as your best friend to help out. 

but the moment we step into the library study, you’re shuffling onto the wooden chair beside mine, sitting far too close for “just friends”, and i ignore how your knees are practically facing my direction and nudging against my thighs as i settle onto my chair. your entire body faces mine as i open the textbooks casually and glance at you with furrowed brows. i pick up a pen and scribble on the corner, then look at you again.

there’s a kind of lustful longing in your gaze immediately, and i can’t hold back my laughter.

   “What?” i’m trying to quieten my laughter, since we are *meant* to be studying after all. you’re just staring at me blankly, lustfully, so my laughter dies out and i go back to reading over the textbook, and i underline a couple words, then turn to you again. you’re still staring blankly so i quirk my eyebrows again. you’re making no effort whatsoever to not stare at my lips, so i sigh.

“Yeah?” you say blankly, starting to smile hazily, not looking away. it’s honestly frustrating, how nothing else is on your mind besides fucking like rabbits in these useless study sessions. your entitlement to my new “services” to you are only heightened by the walks through the gardens and occasionally the forests that were marred by repeatedly fucking.

i cave in, but i don’t initiate anything, waiting till your hand rests on my thigh shyly, and i eye the doorway quietly, then look at you with a brief nod.

we both stand up, and you’re clumsily, enthusiastically unhooking the cellar trapdoor, and i’m grabbing the candle holder, and i’m following you down the stairs, taking in the musty scent of books and not-so-dusty-anymore table by the numerous bookshelves.

it’s way darker down here, not necessarily unpleasant, but its safe, and easier to hide any suspicious activity. i look at you, and you’re already sitting legs spread on the table, still fully clothed. i stare at you and start to laugh.

“The fuck, Prince M-” i begin, but you cut me off angrily.

“i didn’t say you could call me that!” you retort, annoyed your *dearest companion* would refer to you so formally. i roll my eyes, because i know better, i know you love it. 

you won’t admit it, but i see the way your eyes glint as i say that, and the light bulge of your tdick through your tight pants, and the warmth in your cheeks. 

before i know it, im already all over you, mouthing at your neck, spit dribbling down you as i bite lightly, not leaving marks– as much as you yearn for them, knowing it’d disgust your family. i know better than to place you in danger, after all, you’re barely a prince of dignity when it comes to this, more comparable to a mere mutt. you’d be humping my leg at dinner if i didn’t know better than to shut off any attention to you besides in our time alone. 

i’m palming at your tdick through your trousers, letting you pant into my mouth, whining for me to go further. i simply dig my fingertips into your waist under your crisp shirt, telling you to shut up. you make a noise, and i press a little harder, annoyed. i focus on your sloppy kiss, adding what little rhythm i can, turning you into pliant mush under my hands.

i pull apart, watching your red face, and i grin. 

“What does my prince want now, hm?” i ask, running my hand along your back gently, watching you revel in your title. 

“Take off your shirt. And those. And I want mine off.” you command. i fucking hate when you do that, prick. i’ll take it for now though. I’ll let it slide, i’ll let you talk your talk for now.

“Watch your tone, sir.” i mutter, but i comply, obeying your wishes, stripping off confidently. i’m not necessarily complaining though. i take off my shirt and hang it over the bookshelf and do the same with my trousers, and i stare at you.

“Like this, Prince?” i ask. you nod cheerfully, no thoughts but lust available to you. i grin, and press a kiss to your jaw as i unbuckle your belt, and lift your hips slightly to slide off your trousers. they’re tossed aside as i kiss down your neck. 

it’s a blur as i kiss along your happy trail, fingers tracing your hips, and i watch your eyes go fuzzy as i move my fingers to touch you through your boxers.

“Sir? How’s this, Prince?” i question, teasing this time as i admire the way your lips move to say words, but nothing comes out. i take it as an invitation to slip off your boxers and kneel before you. i start to collect your wetness with my tongue, enjoying the expression on your face as i edge closer to your tdick. there’s not even a speck of conceit in you anymore, just blissed out and your hands tangled in my hair pushing me closer to where you desperately want me. 

i’ll let you have this for now, but i promise myself internally that next time, i’ll fuck not just your conceit out, but every ounce of your self-respect and dignity

@pillowprince-playroom

[ashyyslashy]

Call Me: Renfield x GN!Reader

You work at a hotline for people suffering with codependence. You find yourself attracted to an odd guy who frequents the line, and one night, you both let down your guards.

word count: 2,039

warnings: sexual content (orgasm denial, phone sex, praise kink, m! masturbation), language

tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt @karmakaoskk-blog @wrldsapart

You were deeply intrigued the first time you heard his voice. Unmistakably kind yet nervous. Soft, subdued, as if he was making himself smaller even over the phone. You surmised that he was used to being unseen, to shrinking away from others' gaze.

He introduced himself as Robert Montague Renfield, in a British accent permeating with gentle formality. He was instinctively charming, yet there was a certain sorrow you caught lurking in his voice.

He was tight-lipped about his codependent situation for the first few calls, only telling you vague details about his boss' narcissism. Whenever you brought up the subject of what exactly he did for work, however, he was decidedly evasive in his responses. The most you could glean was that he was some sort of assistant, but you couldn't say what for.

You could say that his life revolved around his job. Every time he called you - after the first time you talked he'd always ask to speak to you whenever he called the hotline - he seemed fearful he could be pulled away at any moment. Guilty about taking time to himself.

You tried not to pressure him, allowed him time to become more comfortable. After several calls, he was still secretive about his work, but he slowly started confiding in you. He struggled to develop his own identity under the shadow of his boss. He felt deeply alone, unable to connect with others. He often felt controlled by feelings of hatred and discontent towards himself.

When your shift ended one night, you acted on impulse - you gave him your personal number, telling him to call you any time. You wouldn't normally do something that forward, but you were drawn to him. Your conversations at work never felt long enough. He was hesitant at first, anxious about taking up your free time. But you assured him it was what you wanted.

The two of you exchanged photos, and your attraction multiplied. The selfies he had sent you were hilariously awkward, the angle unflattering and the lighting reminding you of the harsh fluorescents of a hospital room.

But you didn't care. Despite his inability to work a cell phone camera, he was otherworldly. Piercing blue eyes, dark hair against pale skin; exactly how you'd imagine the love interest in a gothic novel. Something inside you craved him with a fervor that you believed had been long dulled by monotony and routine.

This night, you'd brought up the topic of romance. You couldn't let the curiosity eat away at you any longer of whether or not you had any chance with him. He had laughed nervously, before telling you he hadn't pursued someone in years. You knew you shouldn't, but you pressed the subject.

"Well, any short-term relationships, flings?"

"No, no one."

"Not even a one-night stand?" You paused. "I'm not passing any judgement, by the way. Romance in the 21st-century is so shitty, if you can even call it that sometimes."

He laughed again, the uncomfortable edge in his voice increasing.

"Yeah, it's.. strange. But to answer your question, no. Um, I haven't done anything like that in a while."

"I mean, I think hook-up culture is kind of fucked. You're better off."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Uh, I haven't done anything sexual."

You hesitated. "Like.. ever?"

"No, no, no, I've done it. Just not for a long time. I- I kind of have a mental block."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I said it kind of feels like my boss is always in my head?"

"Yeah, I remember. Do you want to talk about it more now?"

"No, no, I just don't know how to explain what I'm trying to say. I feel like.. I can't do anything.. like that. Like, uh, sexual. Even if it's just alone. I don't know. I feel like he's there watching me or something, and then that kind of just makes me want to.. you know, stop."

You took a beat, processing his words.

"Are you referring to, uh, pleasuring yourself?"

He swallowed audibly. "Yeah. Sorry, that was.. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, that's okay. If this unhealthy relationship with your boss is an issue that's affecting your sense of privacy, and interrupting personal rituals such as, um, masturbation, I think we need to discuss it."

This conversation had certainly not gone where you expected it to, but you attempted to remain somewhat professional as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Your work is only part of you," you steamrolled on, taking advantage of his embarrassed silence. "We've talked about this - how it, how he, doesn't define your entire identity. This is an example of something in your life that has been deterred by your codependence: your inability to fulfill your own sexual needs."

"Oh. I didn't even think of it that way, but you're completely right. Shit."

"I usually am."

"So, uh, what do you think I should do about it?" he said.

You were completely unable to read his tone. He sounded so utterly earnest despite the fact that he was asking you how he should comfortably fulfill his sexual needs. You decided to test the waters.

"Um, where are you right now?"

"I'm in the apartment I rent. I was scared my boss would overhear our calls if I stayed there."

Your eyebrows shot up involuntarily. "...So you went and rented an apartment?"

"Uh, he has a lot of money."

"Yeah, I guess he does." You cleared your throat. You were trying desperately not to lose your nerve. "You're alone, right?"

"Yes."

"And you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to only say yes if it's what you want. Okay?"

Fuck, you were really doing this.

"Okay," he replied.

"Um, well... How would you feel if you.. did it? On call with me? I could guide you, make sure you feel comfortable." You held your breath as you heard only silence from the other end.

"Er.. do what, exactly?"

"Um. Touch.. yourself. Shit. I'm sorry. I realize I should not be asking this-"

"Yes. I want to," he cut you off, his words so rapid they blurred together.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I really like you. And like I said, I trust you. I'm also, uh, very, very attracted to you."

"I feel the same about you," you said softly.

"Tell me what to do," he responded breathlessly. You could hear him shifting around on the other end of the line.

"I've never done this, before, uh.. are you hard?" You cringed. "I really hated how that sounded. Fuck."

He laughed, quiet and musical. "Yes. I was almost as soon as you brought this up."

"Okay, we should probably, um, establish some ground rules. If you want to tap out, just tell me you're done. We can never speak of it again. And tell me if anything I tell you to do makes you uncomfortable. But, uh, there is one thing I want to do, if you're okay with everything else."

"Yes?"

"I want to be the one who controls when you cum."

"I'm at your service," he breathed.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Don't make me sound like your boss."

"I'm not gonna be hard for much longer now that you brought him up."

"Shit. I'm really bad at this, Renfield," you laughed.

"No, no. Just give me your instructions, please."

It was hard to ignore your own arousal pooling in your stomach, the wetness that was rubbing against you when you moved. "Okay. Uh, remove your clothes."

You heard shuffling for a minute as he complied. "Done."

You braced yourself for the next sentence. "Alright. I want you to start stroking yourself, gently."

"Am I allowed to use some kind of lubricant?" he asked.

You tried to stifle a laugh. "Yes, whatever works. You don't have to ask permission for that."

You heard squelching sounds on the other line, and then the unmistakable sound of him slowly stroking his cock.

"Hey, uh, I have something to ask you," he said softly, stopping.

"What is it?"

"Could you, um.. praise me? You know, tell me I'm doing a good job, and everything? Comfort me, I guess." His voice swelled with hope and maybe something like shame.

You hated that he probably never heard anything like this, that he was looked down upon and berated daily. You desired so strongly to be there with him, to show him how perfect he was with your touch and not simply your words.

"Yeah, of course." You waited a moment until you heard him resume.

"You're so eager to please me, huh? I bet you look so fucking hot right now, stroking yourself to the sound of my voice. You're so good for me, aren't you?" you drawled.

"Yes," he murmured. "I think I should let you pick up the pace, since you're doing so well. What do you think?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay. Faster."

You heard him comply on the other line, the sounds of slapping against skin increasing in intensity and his stifled groans amplified.

"Do you have a TV?"

"What? Oh- u-uh, yeah."

"Stop for a moment. Turn it on and turn up the volume loud enough that anyone walking by can hear."

"Al-alright."

You waited.

"Okay, I did. Can I keep going now, please?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to muffle yourself. I want you to be loud for me. I wanna hear you."

"O- okay." He allowed the moans and grunts to leave his mouth freely, the droning of some news program playing in the background.

"Shit, you sound so beautiful. Don't stop, okay?"

"Mhm," he murmured through the noises of pleasure. You shut your eyes and allowed his exclamations to fill your ears.

"I-I'm close. Can I cum?" His voice was pleading, desperate.

"Not yet. Keep going. Just a little longer, okay, keep being good. You can do that, right? And then I'll let you cum."

"Y-yes," he sputtered, a hungry edge in his voice.

"So fucking good for me. Do you wish it was me getting you off instead of your hand?"

"Yes, s-so badly," he forced out through sighs of pleasure. "I think about you all the time. I-I'm so glad I met you. I didn't think you'd- like me too."

"Of course I do. How could I not?" you whispered affectionately.

He hummed in appreciation. "Fuck, you're so gorgeous."

He grew louder, his noises more strained. You continued your soft words of encouragement, turned on by the effect they had on him.

"Can I cum now? P-please?" He begged.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"Y-yes, I think so. But only if you do too."

"Okay. I think you do. Cum for me."

He let out a loud moan, pumping in rapid succession until he slowed and stopped, breathing heavy. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds as he came down from his high, his panting slowing.

"You did so well, Robert. It felt good, didn't it?" you prompted.

"So good. And you- you were perfect."

"I wish I could see you right now."

"I want to see you too. I don't want this to only happen once. I loved it, doing this for you. Thank you." His voice was full of adoration.

"It was for yourself, too. But I can't pretend I wouldn't enjoy if you thought about me every time you jerked off."

"Who else would I want to think about? It's you, always."

You flushed, smiling at his words. You wanted to talk longer, but there was an urgent problem that you didn't think you could delay any further. "Hey, I'm really glad we did this. Are you good for the night? Do you need me to stay on the line while you clean yourself up?"

"No, it's alright. We'll talk soon, beautiful. I appreciate you so much. Good night."

"Good night, Robert. Sleep well."

You hung up the phone, finally free to attend to your own situation. You laid back on your bed with your hand working its way beneath your unzipped pants, Renfield's noises of pleasure playing over again in your head.

author's note: renfield is so baby girl <3 and thank you for the continued support my #1 fan (you know who you are)

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Mezo Shoji x Reader - Make Believe - II

Summary: You ask Shoji to pretend to be your boyfriend for a dinner with your parents.

Warnings: Long, multi-parted, fluff, mutal pining, fake dating trope, mild language, fem!reader, not proofread

After classes ended for the day, you retired to your dorm, jumped into a quick shower, and sat at your desk to apply your makeup. Glancing in the mirror, you meticulously looked over yourself, fussing over the littlest detail. After a bit, you sigh, giving up on chasing perfection and stood, walking over to your closet to find something to wear.

A floor up and across the hall from you, Shoji did the same, toweling off his wet, silver hair before running a comb through it to straighten any rogue strands. Fligging through his closet, he struggled to find something suitable for meeting his 'girlfriend's', parents. Due to his quirk and stature, most of his wardrobe was sleeveless, though he did have an idea.

-----

Sitting on a train station bench, you once again found yourself nervous, fidgeting, and looking for Shoji. Shuffling the train tickets in your hands, you began to worry he might have backed out, making you worry. Pulling out to call him, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder- or more accurately, three.

"Hey, sorry I'm a bit late." A smooth voice called from behind you prompting you to turn around, a blush creeping across your face upon laying eyes on him. "Hope I didn't worry you." Shoji wore a navy blue turtleneck, sleeveless of course, with grey slacks, loafers, and a grey sports coat draped around his shoulders, which hid most of his arms.

"Shoji..." you gasped lightly. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear sleeves!" you commented, before realizing how rude it must have sounded. "I-I mean, I like how you normally dress but...y-you look handsome with sleeves..." you stammered, glancing away and rubbing the back of your neck.

"Sleeves aren't exactly practical for me, nor are they comfortable," he says, offering you a hand to help you up. "But, dress to impress, as they say." You take his hand, letting him pull you up and you both begin walking towards the appropriate train. "By the way, you look lovely, if I may say. I can't place what you've done differently, but whatevcer it is looks nice."

"Thanks, Shoji..." you smiled, blushing a bit as you both boarded.

Finding your seats, you slid in first, him allowing you to have the window seat. After you both settled in and the train began to move, you spoke again. "It's nearly an hour-long ride, do you think we should, I don't know- practice?"

"What exactly were you wanting to practice, (Y/L/N)?" Shoji asked, cocking a suspicious brow.

"N-Nothing like that!" You fuss, punching his arm lightly, blushing. "Don't be a perv!"

"Hey," he puts his hands up in defense. "I didn't say anything specific. If you think I meant something perverted, you made it up yourself which makes you the perv."

"I meant like get our story straight!" you whined, slumping your shoulders dramatically. "Like how we met, how long we've been together- that sort of thing!"

Shoji thought for a moment, humming. "How about, we say we met at school because we did, and we've been together for about six months. That's a short enough time to justify me not meeting them sooner, but a long enough time for it to make sense that I'm meeting them now."

"Yeah, that makes sense!" you chirp, nodding. "I didn't even think of that, you're so smart, Shoji!"

"I know." he joked with a smirk before continuing. "By the way, you should probably call me Mezo,"

You blush lightly at the idea of using his first name, indicating a closer relationship. "How come?"

"It'd be weird if we still called each other by our formal names six months into a relationship." he rationalized. "Are you alright with me calling you (Y/N)?"

You nodded with a sweet smile. "Yeah, I don't mind at all, Shoj-" You caught yourself and corrected with a clearing of your throat. "Ahem, Mezo."

The way the corners of his eyes creased told you that he was smiling without having to see his lips. "That's better. By the way, do you think we should get the awkward stuff out of the way while we have the chance?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, cocking your head to the side while glancing up at him.

"Like PDA and stuff," he replied, glancing up at the ceiling of the train away from your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck, almost nervously. "Won't it look suspicious if we don't touch each other at all all night?"

"I figured we'd cross that bridge when we got to it." you say, shrugging, not understanding why he was so concerned.

"But it won't look as natural if it's the first time, right?" Now that he mentioned it, he had a point. It'd be odd for a couple of six months to still not hug or hold hands.

"I guess that makes sense. What do you think we should do?" you ask, humming as you thought.

"Well," he said. "Practice makes perfect?" He offered you his main right hand, staring down at you expectantly. You slipped your hand into his, red-faced, noting how warm his palm was and how his hand dwarfed yours. "There," he smiled. "We can just hold hands for a few minutes to get used to it. That okay?"

You were astonished at how gentle he was being with this all. He didn't even want to do it when you first asked, now he was sharply dressed, and doing whatever he could to make the ruse look as real as possible. Here he was, on the train to your hometown, holding your hand like it were a baby bird- fragile, but in need of warmth and structure.

After a few minutes, the pair of you had naturally begun to relax against each other, arms pressing together and weight being distributed more evenly. It was inevitable that your head would fall on his shoulder, and even more so that you would shoot back up, apologizing profusely.

"Oh, Shoji, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get too comfortable!" You fussed, cheeks aglow.

He simply chucked at you, serene as always. "I promise, it's alright. The more comfortable we get with one another, the better we'll sell this thing. Besides, we're barely doing anything, you act like you've never done this before." Your silence spoke volumes and he quickly came to the conclusion on his own. "Oh, my God, you've never done this before."

You hissed, shushing him as if any of the few other riders would comprehend the context of the conversation enough to understand the secret. "Okay, okay, fine! I've never held hands with anyone before, or cuddled, or kissed, or anything else! I'm eighteen and I've yet to have any firsts, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

Sensing he'd struck a nerve, Shoji decided to back off. "My bad, just figured someone like you would have some kind of romantic experience is all."

"What do you mean 'someone like me'?" you asked in an accusitory tone.

"I didn't mean anything by it!" he swore, raising his hands up again. "Just...well you're a very pretty girl, I would have assumed you'd have guys lined up miles waiting to hold your hand."

You didn't think you could ever get over how he complimented you- so matter of fact, but so suave at the same time. It made it hard for you to discern what was real and not.

"Well, I don't, okay?" you confessed. "I've never had a reciprocated crush, so I never got the chance to do anything like this. That's why my Grandma wants to see him in a relationship before she passes."

"I see," he replied simply, giving you space to continue.

"And now I'm realizing most of my firsts..." you paused, heart sinking will be entirely fake. Maybe this was a bad idea..."

One of Shoji's other hands took over the duty of holding your hand while the other set of arms wrapped around you in a protective wing. "Hey, don't think of it like that." He said comfortingly. "Technically, if it's pretend, it shouldn't count, right?" He rationalized, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him he wasn't good enough to be any of your firsts. "You can still save those moments for someone special."

You thought about what he said for a moment before speaking again. "I guess that's true, but will it still feel the same?"

"I don't think I can tell you that, (Y/N)." Shoji chuckled nervously. "I think that's for you to discover on your own." He readjusted his posture, feeling you relax against his side, prompting him to do the same. "But if you ever want someone to practice with, I'm your guy..." He thought allowed, barely audibly.

Your face burned at his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. This 'practice' was nice, and it wasn't like you were doing anything wrong, just some light cuddling on the train. Your mind began to wonder what other things he might be able to practice with you. "Shoji...?"

He hummed in response, one of the ends of his arms morphing into an ear that rested on your shoulder to hear you better. "Do you think we should practice...more things? Y-You know, just to make the act more convincing?" you asked anxiously, eyes glued to your lap as you awaited his response.

"What did you have in mind?" he muttered, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks under his mask.

"W-Well.." you stammered, struggling to find footing on what you wanted to say. "We hug all the time, and we've already held hands and cuddled so I guess that leaves..."

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, cutting straight to the point.

You shrunk at his blunt nature, one hand in his and the other gripping the fabric over your knee to ground you. "W-Well uhm," you stuttered, unsure of what you were even trying to articulate at this point. All you knew was that you wanted it, but it felt wrong in a way. "I-I've never..."

"Doesn't have to be a real kiss, doesn't count, remember?" He said, cooly, thumb brushing over your shoulder. "But only if you want to." You simply nodded timidly, glancing up at him to find him already staring back, usually mysterious eyes now full of comfort. Leaning in close, the pair of you began to bridge the gap, each tilting your heads in the respective direction. Your eyes fluttered shut first, giving Shoji a lovely view of you expectantly waiting for a kiss. Following suit, he let his eyes close, inching ever closer until he could feel the ghostly presence of your lips brushing against his clothed ones.

Suddenly, as he was about to firmly press his lips to yours, the train came to a stop, prompting the both of you to separate like oil and water. Your head shot up, searching for some sign of emergency, but instead, you were greeted with the familiar sight of the train station in your hometown. "W-Wha-?" you questioned, confused. "We can't already be here, it hasn't been that long."

Pulling his phone from his left pocket, Shoji clicked it on, grateful to have a distraction from the heat in his face. "6:05," he said, gathering his composure. "Been almost an hour since we left."

"Oh..." you accepted, gathering your things, ignoring how your cheeks burned. "I-I guess we must have just lost track of time..."

"Guess so..."

Part I

[lilbittymonster]

Since Kitali wasn't into/straight up didn't like Estinien and Aymeric at first, which one won her over first? Were they trying to or did their relationships blossom naturally after time spent together?

I've been thinking about this all day and I think it was Estinien. Who then shot himself in the feet by dipping out of Ishgard after he could walk again. But they were definitely hurtling towards Something before he left.

And a large part of it is the forced proximity. They're both dragoons, and even if Kitali isn't formally recognised as one by the Holy See she's still working on contract with them. And especially since Estinien is stuck in the city on house arrest after his little stunt with stealing the Eye and trying to run away with it.

Estinien very much wanted, if not her friendship, at least her cooperation. She's a damn good dragoon, and their order had just suffered significant losses in the most recent dragon attack. And Kitali was trying to find a way to anchor herself in the city's good graces that didn't rely on a stranger being nice enough to let her couch surf in their manor indefinitely. So while yes they were at each other's throats (not the sexy kind alas) it was still a mutually beneficial arrangement.

They don't really start turning a corner until the first shared nightmare. Which is the pinnacle of forced proximity. They learn things about the other far more quickly than either of them are comfortable with but also sort of take solace in the fact that "at least it's not just me, at least I'm not alone in this". The biggest running theme with them is self recognition through the other. And they really don't hit the "oh wait are we friends now? I think this counts as friends now" until the Dravania roadtrip (god I miss the Dravania roadtrip THEE most arc of all time. to me.) and subsequent felling of Nidhogg the first time.

Aymeric, for his part, is actively trying to get on Kitali's good side. Yes, he has a bit of an ulterior motive, but it's about as ulterior as Estinien's in which she's a damn good dragoon and he needs all the help he can get to end this war so he can move onto his own agenda of Fixing Ishgard For The Better. He also just...thinks she's neat? And still kinda idolises her a bit? And he wants her to not be angry at him for whatever it is that he did to piss her off so much (this is an entire miscommunication Thing I promise it gets resolved. eventually.)

Enough time passes that Kitali slowly (very. very slowly) lowers her hackles around him a bit once she sees that he does actually have a modicum of altruism to his actions. Yeah he's still a cog in the machine but he's not the absolute worst cog in the machine. He does very genuinely care about trying to keep people safe and doing The Right Thing.

The two of them don't really get any interpersonal development until the aftermath of the Vault, where Aymeric isn't constantly off doing Lord Commander shit and they have time to just sit and talk, as people, while he's recovering. And then it's off to the races with the whole Bismarck thing and getting the aether lance made with Matoya, honestly my memory of MSQ is still very fuzzy there, but he is Extremely Concerned for her welfare and greatly upset that he's stuck useless in bed.

And then Azys Lla happens and Estinien gets 'Hogged and Kitali returns on dragonback mildly concussed and dissociating about having just lost two more people right in front of her and Aymeric is not-so-mildly panicking at the news of losing his closest friend/ex who he's still in love with and the question of Are We Going To Have To Kill Estinien is hanging over everyone.

And then he gets stabbed! And Kitali's heart drops into her stomach hearing Lucia say there was an attempt on his life! She doesn't know what these feelings mean! She's going to go fuck Hilda for a few months while she tries to figure it out.

Aymeric and Kitali's whole "will we won't we" happens during the Reconstruction. Which I place directly post-HW since...that's where it makes the most sense to. And it comes to a head after dealing with Omega and Shinryu where Kitali needs to teleport somewhere safe after watching Yet Another Fucking Guy Die Right In Front Of Her Salad and without thinking consciously she winds back up in Ishgard pushing her way into the Congregation before she even recognises where she is.

And I've talked about this a ton so I'll just give the tl;dr of Kitali made her and Aymeric rings before she went to deal with Dun Scaith and she didn't figure out her end of things with Estinien until the DRG 70 fight and their conversation in Reunion (how aptly named, huh) and then she and Estinien don't kiss until almost the end of Endwalker.

So like. This got away from me just a tad. However. They are a Mess. And I love them all so very much and just enjoy talking about them even though I must sound like a broken record at this point.

Thank you so much for asking @oh-yeah-no

[jessicafangirl]

The Second Chapter Of My Ghost Fic

Yes, I updated! And it's a longish one. I hope you like my version of Copia. He's fun to write for. I may or may not have added a few bits of what I've caught of Tobias's personality and likes here. You've been warned. Other things I've just decided "Yeah, that's totally Copia."

I made the Ghouls a little different here. There's supernatural stuff happening. Just a bit of it in this chapter hinting that things are not of the usual variety at this location of the Ministry.

You can also read this here at Archive Of Our Own

Chapter 2

Jen sat up with a gasp, blue eyes wide as saucers. She didn’t know where she was and the last thing she remembered was passing out in a satanic church. Reality came barreling to her as she realized everything had really happened and it wasn’t a bad dream. This was brought even more home when she turned and saw a black clad figure with a silver devil mask on their face sitting in a chair nearby her reading a copy of Metal Edge Magazine with their legs crossed. Okay…maybe it could still be a dream.

She couldn’t stop the yelp that came from her lips. But apparently the….man? wasn’t too terribly shocked to see her awake or what her reaction was to seeing them. If that was how they dressed all the time, it was probably the norm. Jen realized this was one of the band members…the ghouls. The Nameless Ghouls. They walked around like that all the time? The figure stood and headed over to the bed Jen found herself on. She had no idea where she was now, but the room was dark other than the small table lamp the silver masked figure was reading by and a fireplace that was burning over in a corner. The figure held up their hands as if to say they weren’t there to harm her as they came to a stop near the bed. Jen didn’t know what to really do here and found herself gripping the silky comforter that had been covering her nervously as the ghoul placed a palm against her forehead. After a moment they reached down and felt her wrist and glanced at a watch on their left arm. Jen realized they were checking her vitals…this was just bizarre.

“Uh…am I still…in the church?” she finally asked.

The ghoul nodded then grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and handed it to her. Jen looked down at it curiously and decided if there was anything nefarious, they were attempting they had plenty of opportunity while she was unconscious. She took a drink and wound up glugging down the entire glass.

While she’d been drinking the water, her nurse, for want of a better term, went to the door of the room and opened it, letting in a subdued light from the other side. Jennifer heard a voice that was familiar and a noise that was like soft rumbling static. She placed her water glass on the table just as Copia Emeritus walked into the room.

Instead of the robes he’d been wearing when she’d first met him, he’d changed into less formal attire. He still had his face paints but was wearing form fitting black pants and a black button up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up still with his gloves. He quickly made his way to stand next to the bed. “Ah signorina, I am so glad you are awake.” He said gently, not wanting to frighten her.

Jen gave him a weak smile, still out of sorts. “I…thank you for…helping me.” She said, then glanced around. “Uh…the…uhm…nurse said I was still at the church?”

Copia’s eyes widened in surprise. “They spoke to you?”

“No, just nodded.” She answered.

“Ah,” He smiled again. “Si, si, you are still here in the church.” He gestured around the room. “This is one of the apartments for visitors and clergy.”

Jen nodded then asked “Uh, how did I get here?”

“Eh, well…” The Papa glanced away for a moment then turned back to her. “How much do you remember cara?”

She chewed her lower lip. “I…think I fainted. Before that it was a blur…running…hiding…” here she paused, taking a breath “and blood.”

Copia’s mismatched eyes were kind as they watched the expressions cross her face. He gestured to the mattress “May I?”

Jen nodded and he sat down next to her. “Cara, you did faint. I believe you had a…attacco di panico…uh…a panic attack, si?” He reached out very slowly and touched her hand where it lay on the mattress. “After what you described to me no one could blame you for it. We brought you here to rest.”

She glanced away towards the fireplace. “So all of it really happened. It wasn’t just some sort of nightmare or…I’m not laying in the woods somewhere slowly dying from exposure.” She said, her voice barely a whisper.

Copia winced at the words and her tone. She sounded as though dying of exposure would be preferable. “Dolce ragazza, you are safe here.” He squeezed her hand lightly. “What you’ve witnessed is horrible, what you went through was too. But you are safe here.”

She turned back to him with a sad smile. “Thank you, Papa, but…”

He shook his head. “Copia.” He said gently. “You do not have to use my title Jennifer.”

He remembered her name which was surprising. “Copia,” she started over, “Thank you for everything you have done. But I need to get out of here. It’s bad enough they followed me. I can’t drag you more into this.”

Copia’s brows narrowed. “Jennfier, no matter what you may have heard or think of us, we’re a place of sanctuary. You are in need of it.” His voice was still gentle but held a weight. “That’s what we are here for.”

Jen sighed and out of instinct squeezed his gloved fingers. “You’ve done more than you needed to. And I think you’ve got a great band actually and you do a lot for people besides me. But I…I just need to go to the police I think and figure this out.”

Copia looked surprised for a moment and gave her another smile, trying to add a little levity. “Ah, so Kiss isn’t the only band you enjoy, eh?”

She shook her head. “You do in fact rock hard Papa.” Jen gave his hand another squeeze. She saw him about to say she didn’t need to use his title, but she cut him off. “You’ve done too much already. I’m sorry I dragged you into this at all.” Jen moved the blanket off her legs and scooted out of the bed on the other side. She realized her shoes had been taken off at some point.

Jen turned back to Copia who was watching her with an odd look on his face. “Uhm…I need to find my shoes.”

The Papa nodded, “Si, si…” He stood up and headed to the door, opening it. “Your things are out here.”

She stood and walked in her socked feet into the next room while Copia held the door open for her. The next room was a small living area with a tiny kitchenette. On the two-seater sofa sat her bag and on the floor her sneakers, looking worse for wear after clambering up a hill side in the dark. Jen turned to Copia “Thank you.” She said again and headed over to the couch to pull on her shoes.

Copia for his part watched her worriedly. The Ghost Project had been to this location a time or two before. Right then they were on a break from touring and as Papa he was focusing on his other church duties. He and the Ghouls had moved in for the time being. No rest really for the wicked as the saying went. But from what he knew of the town the church itself was only tolerated because it brought in income. The local police…weren’t the best. Basically, the church was left alone because they made a hefty donation every year. He was concerned about this fellow fan of Kiss and apparently a fan of his own band. Not only that but he was at heart a Papa, once a Cardinal. His job was to help his flock, be there for those that needed him. And he somehow knew she was alone in this. One tip off was the fact she hadn’t immediately called someone else, family or a friend…or a significant other, to let them know she was okay. That would be a typical reaction. But not here.

He pursed his lips in thought as he watched her do up her shoes. “Cara, would you allow me to make a suggestion?” Copia asked, walking over to stand beside the couch.

Jen looked up at him, tying the last lace in place. “Sure?”

The Papa folded his gloved fingers together. “I would ask that you stay here at least for a night or two.” He saw her start to protest and he lifted a hand. “Un momento, per favore.” She bit her lip but waited for him to continue. “We obviously have the space si? But also…I want to make some quiet inquiries into what you witnessed. If anything has been reported as well as the men that were looking for you.”

“Copia…” Jen didn’t want him digging into this any deeper. He was way too kind for his own good and she didn’t want to be responsible for something happening to this ethereal rock god devil pope. I mean…that’s what he was right?

He sat down beside her, lowering his gaze at her in a way that had quieted many a disobedient sibling of sin over the last few years. When he worked up the glower power as he’d called it, people usually listened to him. “Jennifer, do you have anyone to help you right now I can call?”

Well…that…made her wince. No, she really didn’t. That’s what happened when you decided you were over the toxic that was your crazy family. Her life over the last few years had been chaos and heartbreak and she was looking into the barrel of middle age alone. Jen sighed, shaking her head. “No.” She admitted softly.

Copia could hear it in her voice. It was fragile and the fear was there along with the sadness. He’d help her and perhaps learn why she was alone in this, and it would seem the world. He knew all about feeling that way. But he could fix that as well. “You’re not alone sorella.” He gave her another smile, the white paints of his face showing the thin lines that were on either side of his lips. “Let us help you. Let me help you, si?” He touched her hand where it lay on the couch, the leather of his gloves warm.

Jen gazed back at him for a heartbeat. He had a skull painted on his face and an eye that didn’t belong in nature. But he wasn’t scary in the least right then. He also wasn’t air humping his mic stand either which suddenly popped into her head. No brain…you do not think about that right now. Good god…

He wanted to help her, and she believed him. And who else did she have? Maybe a priest of the dark side was a good option for a woman on the run from bloodthirsty killers? She’d always had a thing for horror movies and monsters…and look now her life was one. What fun…at least the demonic entity was a nice one in her movie.

“I…okay…if…is this going to be alright for everybody?” She asked him finally.

Copia nodded, happy she was accepting his offer of help. “Si, si, everything will be okie dokie.” He stood and clapped his hands together. “You can stay here of course. I’m just down the hall if you need anything. You’ll…uh…notice the sign on the door.”

Jen couldn’t help but grin at his okie dokie. Some scary devil dude. He had a knack for making her forget what a clusterfuck she was in. He glanced around the room. “TV is there, kitchen is there, washroom is back in through the bedroom.” Copia glanced down at her clothes and gave a nervous quirk to his lips. “We also have a laundry as well.”

She glanced down at her still dirt covered jeans and hoodie. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” She stood up and pulled open her bag, taking out her Switch and placing it on the coffee table. She noticed Copia looking at the Nintendo logo on the case with an almost predatory gleam in his eye as she pulled out a new pair of jeans and a Bela Lugosi’s Dead t-shirt. “Are you a gamer?” She asked him wondering if she should leave him a moment alone to ogle the console.

Copia shook himself from a stupor. He let out a little chuckle. “Hehe, si, I guess you could say that.”

Jennifer grinned in surprise. “What do you like to play?” She asked while pulling her toiletry bag out.

“Oh this and that…I…haven’t played what this is though.” He gestured to the case.

“Really? You haven’t played a Switch?” She turned back to him.

“No.” He turned and gave another nervous laugh. “I’ve heard of it, si. But church business etc.….I haven’t had time to upgrade.”

Jen nodded. She could imagine he didn’t get a lot of free time. “Well, if I’m here for a couple nights then we should team up or beat up on this bad boy. I’ve got a second controller.” She dug into her bag and pulled out a spare Zelda themed one and handed it to him.

Copia’s eyes widened like a kids on Christmas. “Satanus…the tri-force.” He breathed out in awe.

She laughed. “Yeppers. Oh if you haven’t seen Breath of the Wild you’ll probably need to sit down for that one.”

He grinned. “I may have to take you up on that offer signorina.” Copia placed the glorious controller on the coffee table. “Ah, are you hungry?” He asked her. “When did you last eat?”

Jen couldn’t actually remember when she’d last eaten. She didn’t know if she could actually eat right then with everything that had happened. Mostly she just wanted to take a shower and see if she could even sleep. “It’s…it’s okay I’m not hungry.” She gave a nervous chuckle as she picked up her clothes. “I can stand to skip a meal or two anyway.”

The Papa’s eyes narrowed again, not happy with her answer for a couple of reasons. “Food is important cara. You need your strength, and I won’t have you go hungry while you are our guest.”

“Really, it’s fine.” She told him.

Glower power activated, Copia crossed his arms over his chest and raised a painted brow. “Si, it is very fine food. And I will take no refusal. Tonight the kitchen made a fettuccini carbonara that would make the devil weep. I’ll have some brought up to you.”

Jen felt a bit cowered by that look and the thought of bacon in cream sauce and pasta literally made by Satan’s church was pretty intriguing. “Thank you, it sounds heav…” She realized where she was. “Hellaciously good.”

Copia’s lips quirked up deactivating the glower. “Prego.” He gave her a little bow. “I will leave you to get comfortable. Again, I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

“I’ll look for the sign.” She replied.

“Bene.” He nodded, gave her a wink, and then headed out of the room.

Jen stood there for a minute holding her clean clothes. “What did the satanist do to you child? They forced me to eat good pasta and get clean.” She said aloud, a dazed expression on her face. Shaking her head she walked through the bedroom and found the bathroom. It wasn’t massive but had one of those white, old-fashioned claw-footed tubs and showers she’d dreamed of having her whole life. The tile was a mix of blue, gold, and white, with a decent sized sink and counter. The walls were decorated with more tile but with patterns of gold tile within the blue. A large stand of thick, fluffy towels and washcloths sat next to the sink.

“Good lord, they have a bidet.” She said to herself. The devil demanded a clean bum of his followers. Jen grinned at the thought. Closing the door she turned on the shower. After scrubbing herself raw she towel dried her hair, thankful for the fact it was short and dried quickly. She felt a bit better after getting clean. She put her clothes and towels in the hamper she saw in the room. Dressed in jeans and her Bauhaus shirt she walked out to the living room to find someone had brought her dinner.

Sitting on the small table next to the kitchenette was a steaming and delicious smelling plate of pasta and next to it a carafe of ice water, a bottle of wine with a glass and a small basket with some Italian bread and butter. “You guys don’t mess around.” She thought. Jen sat down at the table and grabbed the silver wear and noticed there was even a slice of what looked like chocolate cake on a small saucer.

She dug in and nearly swooned at the first bite of the carbonara. It made sense with the head of the clergy being Italian and all that that it would be good but…this was how you seduced people to the dark side. All of it was delicious. Jen looked down and realized she’d eaten everything that had been brought to her. The bread tasted fresh, the butter too. After drinking down another glass of water she looked at the wine bottle. She wasn’t really a wine drinker and remembered the last time she’d decided to rip into a bottle she had a migraine the next day. Maybe not drink a whole bottle alone. She poured a little bit into the glass and took a sip. It was actually good too. Slightly sweet with a bit of…spice? She poured a little more and walked over to the couch and slumped down.

This wasn’t how she saw her night or her life going. In the grand scheme of her cluster of a life she supposed the scales were now way heavier in the “this is the worst thing to happen to you” side. Jen let out a heavy sigh and swigged down the rest of her glass. She looked at the bottle that was taunting her to drink it all down to just stop thinking. That wouldn’t do anyone any good and she’d learned that didn’t help anything ever. It just gave her a headache and made you feel like hell the next day.

Her head fell back on the couch, and she stared up at the white ceiling. Sleep…let’s try sleeping. She traded out her jeans for her blue plaid pajama pants and padded back to the bedroom. She knew this was probably a futile effort, but she was going to try. Jen kept the door open to the living area and the light on, turning off the bedroom light. This made her feel a little more secure. Yes she was 6 years old.

The bed was surprisingly comfy, and the sheets and comforter felt really nice. The wine she’d drank was giving her just the littlest buzz. Her blue eyes stared towards the fireplace that was still burning in the room, giving it a little bit of a glow. She tried to breathe deeply and relax. That was really hard all things considered but eventually she felt herself grow drowsy. She closed her eyes and found herself fading into sleep.

But her subconscious wasn’t going to let it be that easy. She watched it all over again, feeling the cold of the night air hit her and this time some of the blood splattered into her face. God, she could smell the burning coppery tinge of it. She ran through a forest that didn’t end. Just running and running. She could hear them chasing her and the trees never stopped. Jen felt herself fall, felt hands grabbing her from the ground. She turned, frantic as they held her in place and running towards her were the two killers. “You deserve it you little bitch.” A voice said from the distance, the words bitter, the sound hoarse and hateful. Jen turned and saw her mother standing there on a hill side, clad in a nightgown, her dark eyes shining with hate and spite. “You’re a disgrace.” She said and spat at her. The hands, clawed and withered, pulled at her again, dragging her down at last, the dirt falling in around her and sucking her in. She could feel it in her throat, coating her eyes, plugging up her nose until she couldn’t scream anymore.

Jen sat up with a strangled yelp, her legs twisted in the blankets. She looked around in the now darker room the sound of her mom’s voice ringing in her ears along with the sounds of the killers footsteps crunching in the leaves. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, running her shaking fingers through her hair. The fireplace was only embers at this point. She glanced at the clock next to the bed. She’d been asleep a whole two hours. Jen let out a heavy sigh and fell back onto the pillow. She wasn’t sleeping again tonight. That had been a horrible idea.

She sat up and pulled her legs from the tumult of blankets. It was 1AM. “Ugh…fuck.” She muttered and stood up, shambling into the living area. She wondered if Copia was still awake then as she walked over to her gaming system. She probably shouldn’t bother him. She didn’t know him that well and it was the middle of the night. He’s got a whole ministry of Lucifer to run plus he’s a rock star dumbass. But then she remembered the way he’d looked at that Nintendo Switch like he wanted to have babies with it. Hmmmm. Jen looked over at the still pretty full bottle of wine. Hmmmm…

Sure this was a total normal thing to do. Go see if the devil priest wanted to drink and play video games. In the realm of her life that wasn’t the craziest thing at the moment. Copia seemed friendly and nice. He also had great hair and she’d seen those pants he used to wear…and the ones he currently wears. STOP THAT. Jesus brain…just stop that. Jen blamed it on stress and shook the thoughts from her head.

She grabbed the console and second controller and then snagged the bottle off the counter. “I’m just down the hall” he’d said. Cautiously Jen peered out the front door of her room. It was a long hallway with doorways intermittently along it. It was dimly lit by electric lights in sconces along the walls which were painted in a rich deep red. The floors looked to be hard wood and were also a dark color. She licked her lips, nervous. No one was about which made sense with it being so late. But she didn’t know the hours that Satanist worked. She took a deep breath and walked out into the hall, closing the door behind her. Look for the sign he’d said. Barefoot, Jen headed towards the right and after walking past a few doors saw the hallway came to an end with one single door facing her and next to it a black carved sign embedded in the wall that said “Papa’s Suite” with what looked like the upside-down cross insignia of the church and the band. Well that was pretty specific.

Jen glanced down and noticed there was light peeking through the bottom of the door. That could mean anything. He may be sleeping…like normal people would be. She chewed on her lower lip…god this was dumb. Jen realized even though she was used to being alone she really didn’t want to be right now. Papa Copia had been kind and somehow, he made her feel safe because he was familiar thanks to having watched the videos and having listened to his music. The nightmare had her on edge. Playing video games with a possible friend would be a welcome respite.

Tentatively she knocked very lightly on the door. It was barely a knock. She winced when she did it. Hey guy I’ve never met before tonight want to play Mario Cart? Ugh.. No, go back to your room dumbass. Jen’s shoulders slumped and she turned from the door to drag herself back to her room.

“Cara?” she heard from behind her and her eyes widened.

Jen turned back and found Copia with the door opened looking at her in concern and surprise. He was dressed in a pair of red sweats and a black Metallica shirt. But what threw her was the fact his skull paint was gone. Instead he had just some dark makeup around his eyes and his upper lip. His salt and pepper hair was slightly mussed. The sounds that could only be Bruce Lee kicking ass and taking names were coming from somewhere in the room behind him.

“Uh…hey…” Jen said, giving a nervous smile. “Uhm…”

Copia saw the dark circles under her eyes. “Trouble sleeping?” He asked her gently.

She shook her head yes. “Yeah… I didn’t mean to bother you honestly.” Jen looked down and felt guilty.

“I have trouble sleeping too, especially after a tour…so many time zones.” He nodded. The Papa’s eyes grow more concerned. “Although I think you are awake for a different reason, no?”

Jen glanced away from the green and white of his gaze. “Sleep was a bad idea.” She muttered.

He shook his head. “I am sorry cara…” He realized he was making her wait outside like an uncouth bastardo. “Oh, I’m a horrible Papa. Please, please come in.” He held the door open for her and gestured her inside.

Jen walked into the Papa’s Suite and found a mix of the expected and unexpected greeting her. The living room was large with a lot of dark wood and some beautiful antiques. There were some paintings on the walls, mostly scenes from what looked straight out of Dante’s Inferno, and a large set of windows with heavy drapes and what looked like giant glass doors leading to a balcony. A bigger kitchen was on one side and a far bigger fireplace crackled along another wall. But there were obvious signs that Copia was the one in residence. One section of the room held three large shelves of VHS tapes and DVD’s. Next to those shelves were three more filled to the brim with vinyl records. On another wall in front of a plush couch was a flat screen television with an entertainment center beneath it. It contained a VCR, DVD player and…was that an NES? Jen cocked her head. Hiding next to the NES was a Playstation2 and an N64. He really hadn’t upgraded in a while.

Stepping in further she noticed one wall that was all Copia. There were a couple of gold records hanging there. Next to those were what appeared to be drawings of the band and Copia by children or younger fans. He’d had them framed. There were one or two framed pictures of Copia standing with an older woman and what looked like Metallica, the other with a group of the silver masked Ghouls who made up the rest of the band. Copia was beaming. There were some framed concert posters as well, one with the Papa in full on bat wing caped glory.

Jen glanced at the TV screen and recognized the film immediately. “Oh The Big Boss.” She said grinning.

Copia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Si! Are you a Bruce Lee fan cara?”

She nodded. “I used to watch these all the time on the local indie station. Kung Fu Theater.” She laughed. “Many a Saturday afternoon was Bruce Lee and cereal.”

The Papa grinned. “That sounds like paradise.”

Jen nodded. “It was.” She held out the wine bottle. “By the way, uh…I brought this if you’d like some. I can’t drink a whole bottle or I’d collapse.”

Copia took it from her, studying the label. “Ah, bene, they brought you the one I chose.”

“Oh you didn’t have to, but it was really tasty.” She told him.

He gestured with his still gloved hand. “Wine and pasta belong together cara. While I spread the word of sin, not having a good vintage with your food is not the kind we would ever do.”

She laughed and nodded. “Understood. I see you actually do have boundaries.”

Copia’s eyes caught hers and he nodded. “Boundaries within reason tesero.” He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses from the holder installed under the cabinets. He poured each half full.

“I brought over the Switch too if you wanted to play it.” She realized he may have been meaning to go to bed though. “I mean, if you want, I can leave it here and you can try it out.”

He turned holding the glasses with a slightly confused expression. “I thought we were going to, how did you say it, “beat down” together?”

Jen found herself trying not to blush at that. Christ…stop…putting…the…image…of the pants…in my head…brain. She nodded. “Yes, I did say that. But if you’re going to bed or I’m…bothering you I can just leave it here for you.” She placed the case and controller on the coffee table that already contained some magazines and she noticed comic books.

He shook his head. “Oh, I’m still wide awake and you could never bother me. Here cara.” He handed her a glass and gestured to the couch. “Please sit.”

Jen settled on the couch, which was probably one of the comfiest things she’d ever sat on in her life. It probably cost more than her car. Copia took a seat on the other end and turned a bit to face her, taking a sip of his wine.

“Delizioso.” He held the glass’s stem carefully and looked at her. “Jennifer if you wish to talk about anything with me you are always welcome. I want you to know that. Perhaps sharing your fears can help keep them from your dreams, si?”

She cradled her glass, staring down into the red liquid. It was reminding her too much of the blood to drink it right then. “Thank you again Papa but I…I think it might be better just to try to forget everything right now.”

He reached over and patted her shoulder. “I understand cara. But as I said, I’m Copia for you, si?” He gestured at his clothes and differently made-up face. “Especially right now, you’re getting the dressed down version.” He smiled at her.

Jen laughed, liking the way his eyes crinkled up with the black ringing them. It made the color of his green one even more pronounced and the white nearly glowed. “Even dressed down you are styling.” She replied.

‘Ah, grazie.” Copia felt a tiny bit of heat on his cheeks and covered it with a sip of wine. He placed the glass on the coffee table, his eyes alighting on the Zelda controller. “What do you suggest for a first game il mio adorabile amico?”

Jennifer raised a brow as she reached for the game case. Had he just called her adorable? Maybe that white eye did mean he was half blind. She opened the case and pulled out the game card holder. “Well judging by the way you’ve been ogling that Zelda controller I’m thinking Zelda would be the way to go.”

He let out a nervous laugh. “Hehe…I’m…not that subtle.”

She grinned. “Subtle is overrated.” Jen found the game in its slot. “Let’s hook it up and I’ll show you an all new and improved Link.”

Copia helped her with the TV as she didn’t want to break anything and they quickly got the console hooked up. He was still impressed by how small everything was and portable. Soon she had him logged in and the game started. She explained it was single player and she’d be happy to just watch and teach him. Pretty soon Copia was running around Hyrule and cursing up a storm when he’d run out of steam while climbing. Jen gave him some tips here and there. But he seemed to catch on pretty quick. Two glasses of wine each later and they were trading the controller back and forth trying to defeat one of the more difficult monsters.

“Cazzo!! Link you debole stronzo.” Copia’s head fell back on the couch groaning in defeat, the controller falling to his side. Even Jen realized he’d just cussed out one of Nintendo’s most beloved characters.

“I would say you need a drink, but I think we finished the bottle” Jen giggled and realized…yeah, they definitely finished the bottle. And the other bottle Copia had had sitting on the counter in his kitchen.

“I’ve brought dishonor on the Emeritus name.” He dramatically held his arm over his eyes.

“I thought it was Link’s fault.” She added, tossing a potato chip in her mouth from the bag they’d snagged from his pantry.

“Si, and I am Link…the weakling, bringer of sorrow and the destruction of Hyrule.” Copia sighed as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Dude, it was your first time, and you did great. Give yourself some respect.” She punched his arm lightly.

Copia sat up and looked over at her. “I need more wine to deal with this injustice to my ego.” He blinked owlishly.

“Well that might be difficult…we drank it all.” Jen tipped the bottle showing it was completely drained.

He looked confused for a moment then brightened as if remembering something. “Ah! I’m Papa! I have the key to the wine cellar!”

“This is going to end badly isn’t it?” She asked him.

“Possibly but it will be fun.” He held up a finger and grinned.

It was at that moment that the mantle clock that sat above the fireplace decided to chime out the time. 5 am. Good lord they’d been up nearly all night. Jen glanced over at Copia. “Maybe we should rain check that. I’ve kept you up all night…I’m so sorry.” She felt awful.

Copia shook his head. “No no no…that little pointy eared bastardo should be saying he’s sorry.” He made a familiar gesture to the TV.

Jen laughed, not able to help it. “I think we might be a little drunk.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Forse…it is a little whirly in here.” He glanced around the room then turned back to her and took her hand in his. “But you do not apologize cara. This was fun. I haven’t had fun in a while, and I hope it helped take your thoughts from the dark.”

Jen smiled, trying not to think about how warm his hand was. God damn it wine brain…you stop. “It was fun, and it did. Thank you Copia.” He really was a sweetheart for a devil priest.

Copia lifted her hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “You are welcome cara.”

She managed not to giggle like a school girl but only just. Holy Gomez Addams. Do not be an idiot. Just get out and go to bed while there’s still nighttime. Do not be an idiot. He does that to strangers every freaking show multiple times and…don’t be an idiot.

“I’ll leave it here with you.” She gestured to the controller. “You can attempt to regain your honor.”

Copia realized she was actually going to leave. And she did have a point…he had work to do in the morning and also needed to start digging for information on her situation. But he was really enjoying himself. Well, there was always that night. “Si, si…” he said letting go of her fingers after a moment. “We should continue our quest over dinner this evening.”

Jennifer’s lips parted in surprise. “That sounds great.”

“We can eat here and maybe I’ll have news regarding the…uh…predicament.” Copia’s lips frowned slightly. He rather wished he could forget about the terrible thing that had brought her here.

She nodded, not letting the feeling of dread try to take away from the fact she was actually enjoying her time hanging out with the rock star. “Maybe I can obliterate you at Mario Cart.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Copia cocked a brow. “You think you can defeat me at my Italian brethren’s own realm dea del giocatore?”

Jen laughed. “I have no literal idea what you just said.”

“Si, even more evidence you will…as they say…be going down.” Copia had spent more hours playing Mario Cart than possibly he had at a pulpit…much to Sisters consternation. He looked more than a little smug.

Jen was not intimidated, dark eye glare or no. “You are on, scary devil priest man.” She replied cocking her own brow and crossing her arms.

“Don’t you forget it signorina.” Copia replied with what he hoped was an intimidating look which he couldn’t hold long before he grinned. “Winner gets to pick the movie.”

The little glare thing he just did distracted her addled brain. She guessed he was trying to look like a scary devil priest man…and…that didn’t have the effect on her it would have on other people. Jen shook that train of thought out of her wine brain. “There’s a movie too?” She asked, clearing her throat.

“Si, I’d say you’ve earned a movie night.” He replied. “But after I obliterate you at Mario Cart of course.”

Her gamer ego was riled. “Oh, of course…” She smirked at him.

With that she stood up, stretching after sitting for so long and then wobbled a bit on her feet. “Ooof, I think the wine just really hit.”

Copia got to his feet and realized he wasn’t much more coordinated. “I think you might be right cara.” He gestured to the door. “I’ll walk you to your room while I’m still able.”

With it still being so early, Jen and Copia didn’t really talk on the short walk to her room. Thanks to the quiet though she could hear the beginnings of the day start downstairs in the ministry.

“The cooks are preparing breakfast.” Copia whispered to her. “You’ll probably sleep through it which I hope is the case. But it’s just as good as the pasta we had for dinner.”

They came to her door and Jen turned back to the Papa who stood oddly at attention, heels close together. They were the same height, which had surprised her. He seemed taller on stage, or maybe it was the hat, but Jen thought it was just his presence. He drew you in.

“I keep thanking you.” She said quietly. “But I don’t think I can enough. This was exactly what I needed to keep my mind off, well, everything.” She felt tears pricking her eyes and she blinked, trying to keep it from showing. She really needed to be more of an emotional wreck than she was, just peachy.

Copia gave her a slight bow. “It was my pleasure, Jennifer. No need to thank me.” He reached out and took her hand once more. “If you wish to repay me do so in getting some rest.” He placed another kiss on her knuckles, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

Jen blamed the wine again, it was totally not the gallant, courtly gestures and the way he rolled the R at the end of her name that made her flush like Rudolph’s nose. “I promise to conk hard.” She told him.

The Papa released her hand after another moment, giving her another smile. “Perfetto. But don’t conk too hard, you may hurt your head.”

She laughed as she opened her door. “Good night…good morning Copia.” She said over her shoulder with a little wave and closed her door.

Copia stood in the hallway, his eyes on the door where she had just stood. He had a wistful smile on his lips. He took a deep breath, already smelling the aroma of the freshly brewing coffee coming from downstairs. He turned and headed back to his rooms.

He had time to get a nap before the day really began. And he had a lot to do that day. Meetings with the upper clergy of course…as always. A couple of interviews for the rock and metal press. And he needed to start the hunt for the men who were on their own hunt for his new friend.

Copia didn’t have many in the world he could call friend. The Ghouls of course but they were Ghouls and literally tied to his damned soul. And so when he found someone that he considered a friend, Copia Emeritus would move heaven and even hell for them. And if that person were in trouble or someone was trying to hurt them…oh…well…there was a side that would come out of the Papa many didn’t get to see. And typically you didn’t want to see it, much less be the target of it. The men who had dared come into his church and who were a threat to Jennifer were about to find that out the hard way.

[mariyekos]

So this headcanon is of the crack treated seriously variety but-

Lately I've been thinking about Trish accidentally forming a demonic contract (bond of servitude) with Dante post DMC1 without either of them realizing it at and the shenanigans that would produce.

The idea is that post DMC1 Dante takes her on as an actual employee at Devil Never Cry to get her used to the human world. As part of his attempts to keep a semi-legitimate business for the non-demon hunting front, he has her sign some typical employee contract stuff. Except as it turns out Dante is apparently demon enough for it to trigger the sort of bond of servitude that is normally formed when a demon swears themself to a higher demon, which neither of them even considered as a possibility when they signed away. If you wanted to go further for it, you could say that Dante also nicked himself while preparing the documents and didn't feel like reprinting everything so he just left the page with the bloodspot in the packet, which Trish didn't notice because she doesn't really care about human formalities and immediately flips to the page she has to sign. But a drop of blood is still blood, meaning the contract is a blood contract, and oh will that bite them in the butt later on.

Like I said before, they don't even realize what's happened at first because Trish has always felt weird around Dante from a combination of the Sparda-pizzaz and potential Eva influence Mundus might've put into her. Her feeling a different sort of weird around Dante after signing the contract- maybe she feels some sort of pull or extra loyalty- she'd just chalk up to a potential side effect of being modeled after his mother. It's not until Dante tells her to go do something neither of them want to do as a joke and she actually does it without hesitation that the two pause, go "wait what" and start to investigate. Because Trish did not want to do that, but did it anyway. Because she felt compelled to in a way that overrode her personal desires. Which results in them realizing that oh, Trish can't actually disobey anything Dante orders her to do, and that is Not Normal.

Trish is, unsurprisingly, not happy about this. She's the one that brings up the contract thing, which Dante tries to deflect from by saying he didn't realize anything would happen, it's just a standard human practice! I think if Trish brought up the "well normally it needs a blood contract" thing Dante would twitch in just the right way that has her grilling him for more information, leading to the reveal that oops! She did sign a blood contract! Dante's laziness lead to Trish ending up as a servant yet again!

Dante would promise to never use it and never order her to do something, but I think it would take Trish a while to get over it. It really was an accident. He didn't mean to do that; doesn't want that kind of control over her or anything. He's sincere and means it when he says he will never ever tell or even ask her to do something again if that's what needs to happen for the contract-enforced servitude to activate. Eventually Trish would accept his apology with a grumble, but I see that as part of what would have her leaving DMC/DNC between DMC1 and DMC4 to do her own stuff. She's her own person and her own master. She doesn't want to be anyone's pawn anymore. Even if Dante says he doesn't plan to ever take advantage of the bond, she doesn't want him inadvertently doing anything to her or for herself to unconsciously follow. The contract should weaken with distance and time as long as they don't renew it, so she'll do her own thing most of the time, help out on the occasional mission, and eventually it'll all be in the past. By DMC5 the bond would definitely be broken, though I'm on the fence about whether in this verse it would be completely gone by DMC4 or just mostly gone.

But yeah! Basic idea is whoops Trish gets bound to Dante on accident and decides to peace our between DMC1 and 4 because neither of them really want that bond to activate and for Trish to get stripped of her will, even for something minor.

[radiosummons]

Not that Dave Filoni or Jon Favreau haven't said some weird shit related to Star Wars lore /The Mandalorian before, but I'm kind of starting to question whether a lot of the reactions people have had towards the things they've been saying in interviews lately are maybe just a tad bit off?

Not really in regards to them saying they have no ending in mind for The Mandalorian (which, yeah, I'm dealing with that little factoid in my own way), but more so the reactions people have been having to them talking about Ahsoka and Luke.

Because as wild as saying something like "Ahsoka and Luke technically aren't Jedi" is .... from what I've gathered it was just them having a nerdy discussion about SW lore, not too disimilar from the conversations I see play out here on Tumblr and like those nerdy talks that I have with my own friends. You know, something not to actually to be taken completely at face value or some new law of canon. But more so just a casual nerdy discussion of a particular piece of fandom lore.

Like, no shit, everyone agrees that Ahsoka and Luke are Jedi. And I genuinely don't think Favroni were trying to imply that they weren't. But maybe more so that they were making jokes or humoring the idea that in the most "traditional Jedi sense" neither of them were ever formally Knighted, you could make a joke about them "not being Jedi."

Which, yeah. I find it kinda funny that there's this possible arbitrary as fuck technicality like a fucking graduation ceremony of all things that could prevent them from being formally recognized as Jedi. But I think in context of the conversation Favroni were having, their nerdy discussion makes some sense. Because, yeah, the Jedi Order is sort of absolutely in shambles/non-existent. And there isn't really anyone around to formally Knight Ahsoka or Luke as Jedi Knights, let alone recognize them as Masters.

(If you take this silly idea at face value, though, that does mean that technically Cal Kestis and Ezra Bridger are among the only Jedi Knights actually still out in galaxy which I think is just fucking amazing and hilarious as fuck).

And, yes, it is silly to think that Ahsoka and Luke (who absolutely qualify as Jedi Masters in their own right) don't have a Jedi diploma so they can't be "considered" Jedi, I do think that it is kinda sad.

Because the transition from Padawan to Jedi Knight was an extremely important and sacred rite of passage for any Jedi. It was meant be an intimate event in a young Jedi's life, standing next to their Master and being recognized officially by other Masters as well as their peers for their personal growth with the Force. Yes, we could joke about it being a "graduation ceremony," but it was a sacred one.

And it is really fucking sad that Ahsoka and Luke never really got to experience that. Like so many other things, this extremely important Jedi custom was nearly lost. While the tradition did survive and continues on, the truth is that it could have been entirely lost altogether.

But as sad as Ahsoka and Luke not having a formal Knighting ceremony is, I don't think them not having one means that they're lesser Jedi for it. I'd argue that absolutely no one thinks that way, actually. Not even Dave Filoni and Jon Favreau. Personally, I think the fact they were never formally Knighted just goes to show that while most Jedi traditions have been lost or hidden away, it doesn't mean that the Jedi have. The Jedi Order still continues to exist through the survivors and the students they take under their wing. For all the Empire's efforts to completely wipe away the Jedi from existence, they ultimately failed.

And I can't help but find that kind of beautiful.

Tldr; hahaha Jedi need a fucking diploma, but also I'm gonna go fucking cry in the corner now.

[megamanrecut]

Alright, I've been busy and it's taking me awhile to get the next part of Diamond in the Rough up, so here's a little drabble/teaser for a short Become the Night interlude/sequel. (Note: I am in in a rush so apologies for the roughness/spelling errors lol also possible some details may change later for better continuity with everything)

Become the Night 2 Teaser (Now on Ao3)

It was a warm summer day outside Dr. Light’s laboratory. Dr. Light was away at a work conference, Rock and Roll had taken Rush into the city to go shopping, while Proto had stayed behind to work on the skycycle and be on call if Dr. Wily and Snake Man were to strike.

But the emergency satellite scanner remained quiet. Proto was bored—Dr. Wily hadn’t attacked in over a month, and his armor was sitting unused in a heap in his room, collecting dust. He was wondering if he should have gone into the city after all with Rock and Roll—shopping and malls weren’t his thing, but playing at the arcade with Rock and teasing Roll over her music tastes could be fun—

The doorbell rang.

Normally, Proto hated answering the door. Though Dr. Light’s laboratory was located in the country and didn’t receive many visitors, Proto preferred to ignore the few that came, who were mostly salesmen anyway. But today, Proto put down his tools, put on a pair of aviators, and answered the door.

Outside stood a man with short auburn hair. Despite the heat, he was dressed in a formal, tight-collared suit of black wool with orange embroidery and gold buttons. Everything about him looked extremely expensive, as though he were royalty—a strange visitor for Dr. Light’s boring, quiet laboratory in the country. He glanced around furtively, checking the lawn, then stared at Proto with familiar piercing pale eyes.

“Are you Proto?” he asked in a low voice, his lips barely moving, as though afraid the welcome doormat might be eavesdropping.

“Uh, yeah,” responded Proto without really thinking as he stared back (he was not dressed as ‘Break Man’, his public-facing hero identity, after all, nor did many know who ‘Proto’ was). 

The man (or android, as Proto had instantly figured out, despite the flawless disguise) nodded curtly. “My name is Mr. Turner. We haven’t met—“

“Oh I know who you are,” Proto interrupted, grinning broadly at Turner. There was no mistaking the resemblance of those pale eyes. “You’re Elec Man’s little brother!”

“I—what?” Turner wrinkled his nose. “I’m not—that’s not—“ He gave a small, annoyed cough, then changed the subject. “…Are you alone?”

“Yes.“ Proto opened the door wider. “Here, come in.”

Turner stepped warily over the threshold into the brightly lit foyer. After glancing around with a still expression, apparently listening to make sure Proto was actually alone, he began to walked around with perfect, straight backed grace, hands clasped behind his back.

“Checking for bugs,” Turner informed Proto in a cold, crisp tone as he inspected the dull knickknacks on the perfectly ordinary accent tables.

“Good idea, always forget to do that,” Proto replied, hiding a smirk. He was reminded a little bit of a peacock or a very self-conceited show dog.

Then he noticed Turner’s eyes were lingering on the framed pictures, and grimaced slightly inside. He wasn’t proud of this collection, especially not around a Syndicate member—most were family photos both dorky and domestic, yet it was a bit difficult to tell what Turner was thinking as he stared at them.

“So uh, what brings ya to this neck of the woods?” Proto prompted.

Turner turned his cold piercing stare on Proto. “I have a mission for you from your former employer. Top secret. I heard you used to do work for us…as some sort of assistant, or something.”

“Special asset, in the end—a mission from the Syndicate? Really?” Proto asked keenly, taking a step toward Turner.

A mission from the Syndicate would be dangerous—Syndicate missions were always dangerous. Proto missed the danger—fighting Dr. Wily and his goofy inventions didn’t have quite the same thrill as risking his life battling murderous scrappers and powerful mobsters. Yet, he had been placed in a forced retirement from vigilantism a year ago…still a bit of sore spot.

Turner’s eyes fell away from Proto to glance out a window. “Yes, but you must know, I can’t pay you for your work.”

“No problem. I will do it pro bono.”

“Then you accept?”

“Sure.”

“If you double cross me, I’ll make you regret every day for the rest of your short life.”

At this point, Proto was trying very hard not to laugh. The android was clearly trying to act both as impressively tough and coldly professional like Elec Man—a nigh impossible feat. “Of course. But…listen, junior, me and your older brother go way back. There’s no way I’d do anything to hurt you guys!”

“My name’s not ‘junior…’ Turner replied, bristling.

“Well, until you tell me your real name,” Proto responded with a lazy shrug. “And junior, no offense, while you’re earning extra credit in acting lofty and superior, you’re only a B in intimidation and a D in lying. Honestly I’m afraid if I even touched you you’d break like a china doll. Nice try, but lets can the gangster talk and cut to the chase.”

Turner looked affronted. “What do you mean?”

Lowering his voice, Proto took a step toward Turner, his amusement fading. “Junior…you’re supposed to be on a mission in California. You’re a long way from California. Call me crazy, but I don’t think you’re supposed to have any contact with me at all, least of all giving me orders! What the hell is going on? Where’s Elec Man?”

“I—I—” Turner appeared to be valiantly clinging on to his tough Syndicate facade, but a slight shiver shook his shoulders.  “I don’t know,” he admitted finally.

“…Is he in danger?”

Turner’s head almost made a small jerk, as though he were about to nod, but he quickly controlled it and said, sounding genuinely lost, “I don’t know. We—I—need Cypher’s help.” 

For a brief moment, Turner had looked imploringly at Proto, but then his gaze had darted away again.

Suddenly, the situation seemed much less fun, though Proto gave Turner a reassuring smile. “Well you got 'im. C’mon. We’ll take our air raider.”

Continued in Part 2

[vacantgodling]

I want to know more about Soprano and Tenor, along with my kings Lath and Ensio <3

henrike!! thank you for asking <3

SOPRANO / TENOR (status: canon!)

soprano and tenor are actually forte (and his sister, melody's) parents! the two of them met when tenor was still a traveling bard, one of the most famous in terrae this era before he retired formally (from traveling at least, you can't take the music out of this man its probably in his bloodstream at this point). it was sort of like a terrae-version of a groupie getting her idol to fall in love with her, though soprano never tried particularly hard for that to happen. his music just enriched her soul and she couldn't help but follow him to every city he held concerts at. one thing led to another, and after they consummated their relationship, she found out she was pregnant with their first child, forte. forte's birth is actually what sparked tenor to retire, though he wasn't upset about it. having a family and getting to settle down in his hometown of bass landing is lovely for him, and who knows? maybe once melody is grown he and soprano will travel around terrae, performing together. soprano actually has a lovely husky voice and the symphonia house was always full of music. they're really gentle lovers and gentle parents and have that sort of toothrotting fluff vibe about them that just makes me Emo.

LATH / ENSIO (status: literally immortal together cannot be separated - qpr territory basically)

god these two i rotate an INSANE amount as you know. idk how much of their backstory i've quite talked about, but tldr they are from the first age of terrae when argos was still standing. lath's parents died when he was young, and ensio's parents who were close with lath's essentially took him under his wing. lath and ensio have always been attached at the hip; if you saw one, you'd always see the other not too far away. while ensio is more outgoing and personable, lath is more standoffish (he hardly blinks and is too intense for the average person) the mesh together really well. they just know each other so well. their fighting together is like a dance. ensio knows where lath keeps his spare daggers and vice versa, and coming into service of the little king mitica together was natural after the day of fissures.

once lath becomes a guardian, MUINENS also grants him ensio as a permanent companion by having him take the form of lath's sword. unlike the other guardians, lath is the one who is Most Likely to have ensio by his side in his human form. think of soul eater, where guardian weapons can take on 2 forms. (the other exception to this is arian) but tbh lath would've never agreed to becoming a guardian if ensio wasn't with him (not that he had a choice, but MUINENS already knew that lath would not take up the mantle alone). lath doesn't view himself as anything that special. he likes to fight and has never experienced terror and he's extremely calculating. his legend definitely softens a lot of his edges, and in many ways has blended he and ensio's personalities together (there's also a statue of lath as a guardian with his sword drawn in the center of the city of lathsbury, which is named after him lol). so its actually really funny in book 2 when some of the characters actually meet lath and they realize... yeah he is actually much stranger and more scary than legend would have us believe. as much as i dislike the roman series that rick riordan wrote cuz of percy character assassination, the cognitive dissonance that the characters experienced meeting percy when he had amnesia and was powerful and intense and kind of aggressive... same vibes when they meet lath lolol. ensio is always the one talking for lath and lath prefers it that way.

in a particular piece i wrote i also spoke about how they're soulmates, and they are in every sense of the word. they're best friends, they're husbands, they're brothers, they're the same person, they're extensions of each other... etc etc. i'm just NOT NORMAL about them.

so here's some required reading (which i know u henrike already read lol) to also become not normal about them:

soulmates

sword of a great hero

also a bad old image of lath, i need to redraw him and his actual ensio-sword (cuz its fancier than this)

[lonetala]

— ☽○☾ —

one word drabble: guest

She felt out of place. She always did but that evening that feeling was increased tenfold as she looked around at the throng of Beasts. It wasn't a party, but Tala didn't know how to describe it. A get-together was far too formal, a meeting wasn't quite enough. They were all there to discuss the current state of things, of how they were getting pushed further and further back by greedy humans. Some wanted to comply with the lesser creature’s demands, others wanted to fight. It was always like this; divided. And yet humans always seem to be at the root of it somehow. 

The tavern was full of voices, some loud, some meek, some spewing nonsense…well, most spewing nonsense. Tala didn’t care for any of it she had only come in the dull, very dull, hopes that some solution might have been offered. That she might have gotten some clue on where she should go next, or at least if she could hunker down for a few days in the village. The longer the discussions went on, the more she knew she had her answer. It wasn’t until a particular goat and centaur got into a shouting match, and then a brawl, that the wolf shook her head and snuck out as madness erupted into chaos. 

It was easy enough, no one knew she was there much less noticed her disappearance. Or so she thought.

Stepping outside back into the cool night air she shoved her hands into her pockets and cursed under her breath. What a waste of time…

She started walking, the loose dirt crunching under her feet and the wind playing with her hair and ends of her cloak. She didn't know where she was going, only that she wanted to be away from the chaos she knew the meeting and subsequent brawl would result in. So lost in thought, pondering her housing for the night, she almost didn't notice the figure in the shadows around the next corner. Almost. 

Unfortunately for them, the female's senses were sharp. She had picked up on their scent before even seeing them, and only spared them a glance before walking by. But she saw them smirk when she did so, and soon a question followed. 

"Got dull for you in there too, huh?" The voice was deeper, and soon a large simian of some sort stepped into the light. Dark fur, a golden robe. Tala didn’t recognize them, but that was nothing new. “I don't know why they insisted on this meetin' in the first place. It won't change anythin'."

She couldn't say she disagreed, but she was wary. Strangers rarely spoke to her unless they wanted something. She stopped walking however, meeting the other's eyes. "They seem to think so."

"Yeah well, maybe they're all idiots." The ape smiled, showing oddly pristine teeth. He towered over the wolf, but showed no sign of intimidation as he raised a brow.  "Whadda you think?"

Tala was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should respond or continue walking. Ultimately she decided on the former, shifting her weight as if pondering. Most people didn't care about, or for, her opinion but it didn't make her response any less blunt. "That it's useless. Humans see us as one thing, we think of ourselves as another. It's been that way for longer than I've been alive. Why would it change now just because of some meeting?"

She was almost surprised when the other smiled, something appreciative in his eyes. Like he was eyeing something agreeable, something he hadn't seen in a long time. It wasn't unnerving, which the canine found odd, she she pressed on nonetheless. 

"We're still monsters to them, still trying to scrape by enough to survive, just to live in meager accommodations. No meeting's going to change that. We need to make a life for ourselves, not settle."

She jumped a little when the simian gave a hearty laugh, deep from his chest. That one sound spoke of power, and something else the canine couldn't put her finger on. It wasn't unsettling just…foreign, but she didn't let that show. Not even as he smirked.

"I like ya, wolf." It wasn't said in a flirtatious way, but rather one of approval. Genuine approval. It almost took her aback, but he continued to speak before she could ask what he meant by that. "How would ya like to know what it's like to not have to scrape by for once?" 

Her expression had betrayed her confusion, yet only made him smile that much more. Leaning down over her, he was a good foot or two taller than her, he lowered his voice.

"I have a...group that could use someone like ya. Let's just say we take care of people that other people don't like. Sounds shady, but the pay is good. And we look out for one 'nother." His wild green eyes looked into her amber ones with expectancy. He didn't need to elaborate, she knew what kind of work he did. Or likely did. It wasn't unusual for Beasts of his size or power to take up mercenary work. Not a career the canine had ever seen herself in. It was nasty business if done incorrectly, a surefire way to shorten one's own life expectancy. But those who needed the work done? They made sure no one could refuse their offer. Money was everything, even to Beasts. 

The worst part was…Tala was tempted.

Winter was coming and that meant food was going to quickly become scarce for someone like her, plus she rarely had more than a few dollars to her name. She relied on hunting and fishing, but when the wildlife went to sleep it put her in a dire position. No food in winter meant less energy, which meant she then spent a good portion of the Spring recouping before she could continue on in any significant way. If this job was legitimate, and she had every reason to suspect it was, she could save and eat well the entire season. And search for clues in the process.

"You don't even know me."

"And ya don't know us, but sometimes that's just how life works, isn't it? If we don't help each other, who will?" He posed a fine question, and he knew the wolf was considering by the look on her face. It was sudden, random maybe, but he knew who she was. Had heard rumors of a red wolf with a perfect human form, who had single-handed dispatched a clergy who had been violently against Beasts in the Greater Continent. One who had been well protected, famously so. They could use those skills, profit from them and gain a new ally in the process. 

She was perfect for this job. 

"So, what do ya say? Ya in?"

A silence stretched between them, long and debating until the wolf smirked.

"I'm in."

[purposefully-lost]

Practice started in fifteen. She needed to be headed back towards the gym itself, get there early so she could change, but more importantly: the swim team practice also started in fifteen minutes. And Jack was going to show up at any moment.

She told herself that she just wanted to wish him luck. He'd joined just a little later in the season, but honestly, he probably wasn't going to have any trouble. He was well-built and tall, not that she'd noticed, and she imagined he'd fit right in once he got into the water. She imagined other things, too; a charming smile and bright blue eyes only accentuated between the blue tile and the water weighing his hair back, out of his face. Sitting on the side of the pool with a towel over his shoulders, strong thighs bare to the world. She'd noticed a peek of hair on his chest before and she wondered--

"Chris!" She was knocked out of the daydream by the voice of one of her teammates. Steph, with her dark hair tied in a braid and already dressed in her jersey, jogging up the hall to meet her. "God, I thought you'd skipped. Coach is gonna be mad if you're late."

"I've still got a few minutes," she replied, hoping the warmth in her face wasn't visible as she glanced back down the hall again, to the same place Steph had come from. Where was he? She wasn't going to be the only one late at this point. Steph glanced between her and the door to the pool across from them, her brows furrowing.

"Sure, but we could go now. You don't look busy."

Chris frowned, biting her lip. She was leaned against the wall, arms crossed, keeping her eyes on the hall. Maybe if she just didn't give her anything to go off of, Steph wouldn't pry.

A grin had started on the other girl's face, though. "Are you waiting on someone?" She asked. Chris sighed. Of course, Steph always pried.

"Maybe."

"I'll bet it's Jon Stone, isn't it?"

"What?" Christine jerked her gaze around, her eyes wide and face reddening. Steph was grinning now. Caught red-handed. "Okay, sure! Maybe. I was gonna wish him luck. He was supposed to start today."

"Never took you for a cheerleader." Steph nudged the taller girl with her elbow, her eyes bright. She hadn't known her long, but even so, she'd never expected Christine Prescott to end up with such a crush. "You know, you should ask him to the formal. I doubt he has anyone, yet."

"I'm working the formal," Chris said, her voice short.

"Only 'cause you're not going with anyone."

"Shut up!" Flustered quick, that was Chris. Steph stepped back a little, her smile softening. Though she did still roll her eyes.

"I'm just saying, it wouldn't be so bad! ..And it'd be a better place to talk to him than during our practice. Are you even sure he's coming today?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Chris looked over at her. She hadn't seen Jack today- she'd spent their lunch period in the library- but she hoped he wasn't going to chicken out. He'd seemed sort of into the idea. "He starts today."

"Yeah, but.." Steph's smile had fallen away entirely. She'd thought Chris knew, considering the tabs she seemed to keep on the boy. And she said she didn't have a crush. Still.. Steph crossed her arms, frowning. "He looked pretty bad this morning. He might-"

The locker room door down the hall shoved open. The girls both turned to look, finding the boy they'd been waiting on. "Speak of the devil," Steph said under her breath, but Chris didn't really hear her. She was more focused on Jack's face, bruised up and set in a stern frown. He didn't even seem to notice them as he trudged towards them. He wasn't dressed for practice, and after a moment Chris realized he was walking stiffly, like he was hurt.

"Jack," she tried, ignoring Steph trying to grab her arm in favor of pushing off the wall to take a few steps towards him. "Hey, are you.."

A glance. A dark, wary look in his eyes. Then he just walked past her.

Steph must've read the hurt look in her face, because she was moving to tug Chris down the hall in the opposite direction. Lucky, there wasn't much of a protest; Jack had already stomped off without glancing back. Maybe it was a good thing Chris didn't seem brave enough to ask him out. He seemed nice enough, when Chris talked about him, but he also never really kept himself out of trouble. "Come on," she said, tugging her again. "Let's just go."

[okdeedee]

i wonder how close is wompy with the other r1 members? like, are they hanging out together when cassian isn't in the base or something lol

i love them sm :""D

i love this ask anon!!! i've been rotating it in my brain on and off the last couple days and i'm sitting in rehearsal with nothing to do so here are some headcanons. of course the second i typed that they said "oh can we go back to the beginning of this scene" and i was needed.

first of all for a rogue one everyone lives no one dies thing: i don't think all of that group would necessarily formally join the rebellion. I think Baze and Chirrut would be more freelancers a la ghost crew from rebels. almost like contractors. doing force related stuff. i think they meet ahsoka and shit down the line, you know? anyway.

jyn? miss girl was radicalised. absolutely she's in. bodhi? yuh.

so with that preface done;; here we go. this got very long because the possibilities excited me. 725 words. thanks anon!!!!! ily!!

_

I reckon bodhi rook and wompy (still laughing at the nickname. can't believe we're using it. wtf.) become quite good friends. Bodhi's a cargo pilot, has mechanical skills -- either he stays a pilot or joins mech crew. we only met bodhi when he was on a life-or-death mission so it's a little hard to tell what he'd be like day to day, but i just have this feeling he'd be a soothing presence despite how anxious he is. he's quite good in a crisis, incredibly strong-willed, and also friendly. he'd take to being in such a chaotic, interpersonal group like the rebellion; worlds away from the clinical and impersonal empire. I think in a perfect world, cassian could have introduced the two of you or mentioned him in passing, and then it's just a gradual friendship. a lot of shared silences working on things together, or being a little stressed together if cass and/or jyn are away on missions.

i think after the events of rogue one in a world where no one dies, bodhi maybe gets a bit spiritual, force-wise. i'd love to see him spend hours in a forest meditating, and i'd love to see wompy join him sometimes - either joining in, or just enjoying the peace and scenery.

_

i think at the very beginning jyn erso is intimidating. i mean like,.,, wow this woman is intense. like admiration and also a healthy bit of fear. new life purpose and ideology aside, she's still going to have the same personality for the most part. she's not particularly trusting, and rightly so. she can be cold. but, she has this sort of two-feral-cats-that-have-trauma-bonded thing + dynamic espionage duo thing with cassian so I think she's somewhat open to this person because they're important in cassian's life. with her rebellion fervour, i reckon she's away quite often. I think the friendship starts as mutual understanding, knowing that they both care a lot about cassian. then merging into sharing little stories about childhood, about family, maybe wompy talking about losing her brother and teo. jyn shares about losing her family, being abandoned by saw.

i love the idea that their friendship is one that is founded with laughter and joy. wompy says slightly strange things that shock jyn into laughter, and jyn's dry comments make wompy snort in serious situations. a friendship like that would be really good for the both of them.

i also think greda and jyn would get along famously. they're both ice-cold bitches that aren't actually ice-cold bitches. yeah i have an agenda behind saying that. they should date.

_

i fucking love chirrut îmwe and i think a) he and bodhi spend time together on base. by extension i think wompy spends time with them a bit. both chirrut and baze are sort of like the cool mentor uncle figures that wompy thinks are very cool. b) I reckon he tells lots of stories with baze about being guardians of the whills and wompy just laps them up because it's so cool, and so different to their life.

right after the events of rogue one they were looking for a ship and i reckon cassian sent baze and chirrut to wompy to see what the rebellion had around. so wompy has both of their trust, and they're their favourite mechanic.

_

baze malbus isn't particularly personable and i'm not sure he ever will be. but he does have awesome dialogue and an inherent cool vibe. so i wholeheartedly believe he'll sometimes walk by, chime into a story chirrut is telling and add a super cool detail and wompy and co will just be like what the fuck!!! and baze walks away because baze is so cool.

one day wompy worked up the courage to ask baze about his massive blaster backpack thing and that was the most animated they'd seen him speak.

a couple times when womp has been especially worried about cass on a mission, chirrut has said something supportive, spiritual and cryptic, and then baze said something backhanded but complimentary about how clever cassian is and how he'll be fine.

_

and otherwise we know how womp gets along with k-2 and melshi. so there's that sort of mammoth of a headcanon.

[sacred-stanning]

Chapter 15 Part 1: More Reclassing, and then we head to Jehana

Ross has been a pirate long enough. It's time to reclass him using the weird reclass item.

His options are Warrior and Berserker. I don't think he really needs bows (especially since he would start at E rank), and being able to walk on mountains and water is sometimes handy. Most importantly, Berserkers get a flat +15 crit bonus.

Yeah! Go Ross!

Also, while I was looking at axes to give him for the next map, I realized something that I had overlooked in previous posts. There are actually 2 different kinds of anti-sword axes. I think I've been referring to all of them as "Swordreavers" up until now, but there is actually a "Swordreaver", and also a "Swordslayer". (In Japanese, a "Sword Buster" and a "Sword Killer".)

They're both C level axes with 11 might, 13 weight and 5 crit, but the Swordslayer has 80 hit and deals effective damage to sword-based foot soldiers like Mercenaries, while the Swordreaver has only 65 hit and doesn't do effective damage. The Swordslayer also has more uses, so it's overall just better.

BEHOLD! THE LIGHT OF RAUSTEN SHINES EVER MORE RADIANTLY!

L'Arachel can become a Valkyria, or a Mageknight. They're very similar stat-wise, and they both have horses. The big difference is that Mageknight gives her C-rank Anima tomes, and the Valkyria gives her D-rank Light tomes.

I went with Mageknight. She's still going to be doing more staffing than attacking, so the tome type isn't super important, but Fire tomes are cheaper than Lightning tomes, and have more uses, so I decided to go with Anima. She also starts at a higher rank with Anima, so if she wants access to more powerful tomes later, it will be easier to get her there.

Like, she can already use Elfire off the bat if she wants to. And if she can get just one more rank, then she could potentially use Bolting. The Anima tomes also tend to be about 2 weight lighter than the equivalent Light tomes, and L'Arachel doesn't have great con, even after promotion.

I dunno. It doesn't really matter much either way.

I looked around for someone to give the Angelic Robe to, and I realized that, among units who see a lot of combat and get hit a lot, Vanessa had pretty low max HP, so I gave it to her.

"We move on Jehana immediately. Grado's army is already there laying siege, and we don't have a moment to waste. I know that everyone is tired, and I'm sorry for not being able to give you all more time to rest, but this is the situation we have been forced to deal with."

Ephraim turned and walked away from his officers. Vanessa could see the worry in his face, and she saw the fatigue in the faces around her. "This will be tough for me to break to the rear guard pegasus knights, even if they didn't see a lot of direct combat. I guess I better get it over with," she thought.

While she didn't intend to delay her duties, she found herself thinking, "I have another conversation that I shouldn't put off either..."

Vanessa knew Lute would be nearby somewhere, so before she gave her orders to the head of the pegasus rear guard, she went in search of her. Unlike Vanessa, Lute wasn't any sort of officer, so she hadn't been at the meeting just now, but she usually ended up hanging around the pegasus, wyverns, or horses after battle.

"Not an officer, that's one way to put it!" Vanessa thought. After all, Lute wasn't even a proper soldier. If anything she was closer to a mercenary, not that that label really applied either. "It's funny," Vanessa thought, "if it weren't for how desperate and by-the-skin-of-our-teeth this whole war has been, both under princess Eirika and now under prince Ephraim, I doubt either of them would have let Lute tag along with us. And then no one would have ever known what a talented mage she is!"

That's what Lute was, Vanessa decided, not a soldier, not a mercenary, a tag-along! She's a totally new category of her own!

Vanessa laughed and thought of when Lute and Artur had first had formal introductions among Eirika's small force. Vanessa remembered the pained face Seth made when he thanked Artur and Lute for their help and introduced himself and Eirika, and then Lute launched into a five minute analysis of the monsters they had seen before Artur finally interrupted and gave his and Lute's names in return. Vanessa had been the one to run into Lute and bring her along to fight the monsters, and she remembered being worried at the time that she was going to get in trouble with Seth!

"Ironically, I'm probably the person who would have been most opposed to a totally inexperienced, non-soldier like her joining us under normal circumstances," Vanessa thought and frowned. "Everyone's right, I do have a stick up my...Well, hold on. Moulder was just telling me not to be so hard on myself." She breathed deeply and tried to relax.

"I'm glad that we didn't meet under 'normal' circumstances though. I'm glad I got the chance to know Lute. I like her a lot!"

Vanessa felt herself smiling and stopped walking. Wait, why did it feel so good to admit to that anyway?

As if to test herself, she whispered quietly, "I like Lute a lot. I enjoy spending time with her!"

"Are you talking about your wyvern?" a voice suddenly spoke up from behind.

Vanessa jumped! It was Lute!

"Stones! You scared me! Why are you standing right behind me?"

Lute flinched slightly. Vanessa suddenly panicked, "Oh no, did I seem angry again?" she thought.

She spoke quickly, "I'm not angry. Actually, this is perfect, I was just looking for you."

"I was looking for you," Lute spoke quickly. "I'm sorry that I got you in trouble, but I talked with Coulder and he said that you were my friend. Are you my friend, or are you angry with me?"

Vanessa paused for a moment to figure out what Lute was saying. "Right," she thought, "I asked why she was behind me, so she told me why. And she talked to Moulder, ok, yeah I knew about that already."

Vanessa took a look at Lute's face. She had her usual, fairly blank expression, and she seemed to be waiting for Vanessa's response. Vanessa also noticed that Lute was carrying a book with her, and that she held it tight to her side, with one arm wrapped tensely around it. She tapped the book with the fingers of her other hand.

"Lute, I was never angry at you to begin with. I tried to tell you that, but I guess I didn't communicate it clearly enough. I'm sorry about that."

Lute was still silent and her face didn't change, but Vanessa noticed that her shoulders relaxed a little, and her grip on the book loosened slightly.

"Are we friends?" Lute asked.

Vanessa smiled, "Yes, definitely! I hope so! I like talking with you, Lute!"

Lute smiled slightly.

"Do you like talking with me?" Vanessa asked.

"Yes. And I like watching you ride your pegasus, or your wyvern. You fly very well, and you look very impressive."

Lute looked at Vanessa's face to see how she would react. It was a compliment, so it should be ok, right? "I don't think I've overstepped any bounds, and I don't think it could be misinterpreted in a negative way..." she thought to herself. "And it's true too!"

Vanessa looked down slightly and laughed. "Uh, thank you. I appreciate the compliment. You're magic is very impressive too."

"She liked the compliment," Lute thought. "And she said she is my friend!"

Lute suddenly felt light on her feet. She was happy about this! Vanessa wasn't angry! She wanted to be friends!

"I'm just glad we got that all cleared up," Vanessa said, looking down at Lute's face with a smile. "And I'm sorry, but I really have to run and tell prince Ephraim's orders to the pegasus rear guard. You know that we're marching out right away, right?"

Lute nodded.

"If I'm not flying front spot the whole time, maybe we can march together!" Vanessa said brightly.

Lute nodded again. "Can I watch you talk to the pegasus rear guard?"

"Watch? Um...sure. But why?"

Lute couldn't think of how to answer the question properly, so she just answered, "It seems interesting. I want to make observations."

"Alright, well come along then. I need to hurry." And with that, Vanessa walked quickly off with the much shorter Lute half-walking, half-jogging behind her.

"Knowing of his sister's dangerous situation, Ephraim moves his army towards Jehana immediately, without waiting for aid from the Frelian army behind them."

This is at least the second or third time that the game script has referred to the fact that Ephraim / Eirika are being backed up by Frelia's army and/or mercenaries. Sacred Stones also has a pretty small cast by GBA FE standards, so imagine if this game had done the Shadow Dragon thing and it would start giving you randomly named Frelian units as replacements if you got too many of your own units killed...

"There's Jehana... It's already been destroyed."

Seth also shows up to warn us, the player, about the dangers of sand for horses.

"If the ground be grains, leave behind the reins." --Some Fire Emblem very smart guy, probably

Seth also warns Ephraim to be, like, careful or something, but Ephraim is all, "We just gotta rush in and beat up everyone and save Eirika. I got this!"

Lyon shows up and checks in with Caellach. (He notably does not check in with Valter, because who in their right mind would want to talk to that creep?)

At first, Caellach is stumbling over his words a bit, and Lyon tells him something like, "Don't worry about the polite speech. You were promoted from a mercenary to a general because of your actual talent in combat."

Japanese has polite speech that requires different conjugations of verbs, and sometimes different word usage. The idea behind this exchange is that Caellach is a salt-of-the-earth guy who has spent his career amongst rough characters, so he's not used to the type of speech that would normally be expected when addressing royalty like Lyon.

Just as a quick, far-from-comprehensive example, the basic word for go is "iku". It can transformed into "ikimasu" for more polite speech, but then you also need to consider who is going in very formal situations. If it is you, or someone in your group, you might use the humble word "mairimasu". But if it is someone you are talking to, or someone in their group that you want to linguistically raise up to show respect, you might use "irasshaimasu" or "ikaremasu".

And there are many more examples like this, so it is actually rather complicated to use proper formal, polite speech in Japanese.

After being told to relax, Caellach suddenly asks Lyon if he's really ok with them going after Eirika since he thought that Eirika was an old friend of Lyon's.

Lyon responds that Eirika is a "very important person" to him.

Lyon asks Caellach if he had anyone he was close to, and Caellach mentions a fellow mercenary from his mercenary days named Joshua.

Yeah, that Joshua. The one I got killed when I forgot to have him use a vulnerary.

Here's the team this time. Even though I just promoted her, I'm leaving L'Arachel behind because horse.

I am however, bringing Lute despite horse because Lute.

I decide to bring Gerik because he has bows and this map has a bunch of fliers, so I was thinking it might be relevant.

And the last horse I bring is Franz because I want someone with good defense to take lots of hits in the south of the map.

I choose not to bring Rennac, which may be surprising to anyone familiar with this map, since bringing a thief or a rogue makes getting the treasures hidden in the sand faster. But the thing is, once you wipe out the reinforcements on this map, you have all the time in the world to find the treasures in the sand, so you don't actually need a thief or rogue.

I could have brought this guy too. Since Knoll is a mage, he doesn't lose movement on the sand. But the thing is, since I'm not bringing Rennac, I can't get the promotion item on this map that Knoll needs. There is a universal promotion item on this map, but I want to give that to Cormag.

Knoll is not really that useful usually until he promotes, so I might just hold off on deploying him until during or after chapter 19 when there is a secret shop where I should be able to buy a guiding ring.

Next time: Checking out the map