#but no AU stuff. its nice. yes. but not my cup of tea

[olmstier]

More old stuff— feat. Sans

[raxacoricofallapatoriusrulez]

Reflections on Infernal Samaritan

Infernal Samaritan was my first real venture into AU-insert territory—and also the first time I fully swapped roles for David Tennant’s characters, recasting Aziraphale in DT’s role from Bad Samaritan. I’ve always found that film intriguing: it builds a fantastic sense of dread and tension, but I’ve often wished it went fully dark with its ending. So, naturally, I decided to write the version I wanted to see.

The writing idea started when I first watched the film at the beginning of last year. I had some ideas with the original characters, but when my first fanfic came together I decided to go with the overpowered AU-insert idea. The original Cale could have won just fine, but I thought, why not go even further with this. At the start of posting the story was pretty much finished. I already had a first draft in spring 2024, in autumn when I started to consider posting some of my stuff, I did the changes for the insert, subsequently rewriting the parts hinting and showing Aziraphale’s power. Before posting at the beginning of this year, I wrote the last chapter.

I struggled a bit with the original decision to post, as I was not completely confident in this kind of story. Would anyone ever read it? Would I get shitty comments because it gets that dark without a real resolution? It does differ quite a bit from the rest I have written, but eventually decided to go for it.

In this story, Aziraphale takes on the role of Cale—with one significant twist: he retains his full angelic powers. That meant leaning into his celestial control and terrifying capacity for quiet, calculated cruelty. It’s not just about dominance or revenge—it’s about total dismantling. He unravels Crowley’s life thread by thread, erasing his support systems, framing him for Maggie’s murder, and ultimately enslaving him. It was dark from the very beginning, and it only got darker.

Crowley, cast in the role of (Sean) the would-be thief/valet, is no match for this version of Aziraphale. His usual charm, wit, and survival instincts don’t get him very far when he’s up against someone patient, amused, and utterly unflinching. And the most chilling part? Aziraphale doesn’t just want to stop him. He wants to keep him.

In the end this was very much a “wrote it for myself” kind of story. If you enjoy it—amazing. If it’s not your cup of tea, that’s perfectly fine too (and honestly, that applies to everything I write). But there’s a particular freedom in telling a story just because you want to see it exist. It let me explore character dynamics and power shifts that would never fit in canon, and doing so in a thriller structure felt both new and fun.

It’s a compact story (6 chapters, just over 10k words), but it packs a punch—I hope. To me this length feels like a one-shot, but it is a complete story. I wanted it to read like a slow, inevitable descent—one where Crowley starts to realize he was never the one in control.

As I got more and more (some a bit dodgy) requests for me to pay for art commissions and sharing my story on different pages in languages I don’t speak, I got to the point where I included AI generated art… something that does not sit well with me, and I might cut out at some point. Of course I tagged accordingly and provided sources. So if you don’t like this aspect, that’s completely fine.

The main issue for me is, it helped discourage these requests (one week I had over 10 requests). I really try to interact with everyone leaving a comment, so these got to the point where it got draining. Now I have included a note on my profile, which seems to work and offers me the opportunity to just refer to that while keeping it nice and friendly.

Also, this was the first time I wrote something where the villain really does win. No redemption arc, no last-minute escape. Just… slow domination, delivered with a smile.

So yes: Mind the tags.

If you generally like a darker vibe, I am currently posting Daily Affirmations.

Check it out here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63026395

[yvtro]

You said something about Eastern European Armand hcs? Expand on that please, I'm so curious!

this took me so long because i have *so* many and it was hard to be selective and not make it into an essay. here are some that i think still work good within canon (there's lots of stuff that is more contemporary and better for non-vampiric aus, but that's a whole another topic)

i am positive that armand's native language is early ruthenian. he would also definitely know old church slavonic. as for modern times, i'm sure he would be interested in learning ukrainian, and be very obsessed about his duolingo streak.

andrei might not be even armand’s first name. (not a well known fact but) slavic people used to give their newborns temporary names for the time of their childhood, and only give them “proper” names when they were old enough to make sure they will survive. plus, well, andrei is a western name, while the child name he had would probably be a traditional slavic name (which were not looked kindly upon by the churches because they were “pagan”) 

armand would be a great host, which is something that also relates to his habit of creating safe spaces for the ones he loves. hospitality is perhaps the best preserved tradition in the region, and people are *very* serious about it. eastern europeans will clean their houses for hours just because someone told them they will drop in for a cup of tea, and then proceed to apologise to the guest for its "terrible" state ("it's like an actual brothel here, i'm so sorry" is the phrase my mother uses lmao). and no matter you came for a tea, you will get a 3 courses meal. the food part is of course something doesn't work for vampires, but i think all the seriousness and formality of being a host can remain. (also, you might be best friends/family with your host and they might logically know their house won't offend your sensitivites and that you don't care for being served like nobility – doesn't matter. it's an imperative)

complaining without realising that it has cultural significance. complaining in ee is a matter of small talk, you complain for sport, or for no reason at all, and if there's nothing to complain about, you invent something for this purpose. and usually no hard feelings are attached to it; it's a way of bonding with people (and talking about nice stuff in your life or around you feels a bit like bragging tbh.) i like to think armand will find something to complain about at all times without realising people around him believe he *actually* finds it disagreeable. he would tell daniel 5-star hotels they are staying at are *terrible*, the weather is dreadful whatever it is, people around are too loud or too quiet, this movie is *so* bad (no, don't turn it off, he's enjoying it), the instructor at a night class they went to was incompetent and annoying (yes, they are going to the next one, what kind of question) etc.

there exists a popular assumption that people who smile for no reason are either stupid, insane, or on drugs. the amount of times my family/friends directed my attention to a person who walked down the street smiling just to say "what is wrong with them"– i think armand would absolutely do that. daniel, what is wrong with this human. what are they so happy about? answer me.

offering things. i don't think most people think about it (i do as an immigrant, because the cultural difference still confuses me at times) but if someone offers you something it is polite to refuse at first and kinda go back at forth, but ultimately you *need* to accept whatever they want to do for you. i think because of that armand would come off as forceful when giving people stuff, which goes well with "devil's minion." like, daniel might say he doesn't want something, but that's just a thing people say, so he will nag about it and daniel *will* receive whatever it is. this point is literally canon tho, i just like to think it has a bit more cultural significance to it.

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 6

sketch

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, romantic vegetable chopping, the chapter of realizing things

AN: Well, it’s been six fucking months, but it’s finally here!! It’s a little shorter than I’d prefer, and took a lot of iterations to get here, but I’m very satisfied:) Thanks, as always, to my lovely @doinmybesthere for editing and encouraging. I hope you all enjoy! I think there’re maybe 1 or 2 parts left in this story, that’ll hopefully be out more quickly than I managed this one. Please let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 5 here)

Finals week passes in a slow blur, barely leaving enough time for you to breathe between essays, exams, and one presentation that you think takes at least a year off the end of your life. It’s much the same for everyone else, as well — you barely see Levi, not counting the nights you spend alternating between your bed and his, and you don’t see Hange at all. Consequently, there’s no opportunity to break apart what happened on Saturday. No chance to peel back its layers and find how you really feel. Although, to her credit, Annie doesn’t appear again, so you’re able to shove it into a corner of your mind for the time being.

Saturday brings with it both a new winter storm and an overwhelming sense of relief. You let it fill you completely as you sit and watch snow swirl outside. The street below your kitchen window is bustling with students trying to outrun the storm to get home for vacation. But you have nowhere to be, nothing to do. It’s nice.

The door opens, bringing with it the stomping of Levi’s boots. You turn to watch him shake snow from his hair, sinking deeper into the reassurance of knowing that everything you need is here under your roof. Safe.

Hmm. What the fuck?

You choke on the next sip of your tea as the realization of what you just felt hits you square in the chest. Through your coughing and hacking, you reach again for that fleeting sense of home. Childish, content, warm.

“Are you okay?” Levi calls from the entrance, looking at you with pinched brows halfway through hanging up his jacket.

“Fine,” you cough out, pushing back from the table to hunch over and catch your breath. “I’m okay.”

It takes a moment for you to stop breathing hard, though when you do, your heart rate doesn’t return to normal, instead pushing blood to your face and neck and making your body feel light. Levi doesn’t help when he finally joins you in the kitchen, all floppy hair and bright cheeks from the snow. All leisurely about the way he stretches his lean body to take his favorite blend of Earl Grey from the top of the fridge.

“I was thinking about dinner,” he starts, completely oblivious to the way you’ve started sweating under your cardigan. “We shouldn’t order because of the snow, so I brought home stuff to make soup.”

“What kind?” It’s a miracle the words come out normally.

“Chicken noodle.” He turns to face you. “My mom’s recipe.”

—

“I don’t get why guys are always so uppity about kitchen knives,” you say, picking up what Levi’s told you is a utility knife. “Like, it’s just a knife. I’m not about to stab myself with it.” Your finger drags along its sharp edge for only a split second when Levi’s slim fingers are suddenly around your wrist.

“Don’t. Touch. The knives,” he growls, taking the utility knife gently from your other hand and placing it back on the counter. “I just sharpened them last week, you could’ve seriously cut yourself.”

His steel eyes hold yours for another long moment until you nod your head mutely. You haven’t been able to shake the knot of hyperawareness that’s been settled in your belly since your what the fuck moment, and it only twists tighter when he’s so close to you. His hair is dry now, curling slightly because he hasn’t bothered to comb it since he got home. You have to actively resist the urge to twist a particularly enthusiastic curl around your finger in the split second before he backs away again.

Muttering under his breath, he returns to the simmering pot on the stove that he claims has turned into stock, though you hardly believe it. Growing up, you’d never been taught kitchen skills, let alone anything close to actual labor.

For a while, you’re content to watch, sitting at the table and nursing both the ache in your chest and a fresh cup of chamomile, but the urge to join him in his quiet work overwhelms you as he’s washing the vegetables.

“Levi, please, can I help?” Your tone edges on whining, prompting him to huff and shift on his feet. “I promise I won’t touch the knives! There, just, must be something I can do.”

You see him roll his eyes, swear under his breath, then turn towards you with a glower.

“No talking, no questions, and go wash your hands.”

“Yes!” you cheer and stand up with a bounce.

The scent of the bar of soap as you lather and wash cuts pleasantly through the spices and thick scents already filling the kitchen. It’s not something you’ve experienced often, and you relish in what you realize must be home comfort, your grin settling from enthused to contented.

Levi is arranging carrots, celery, and onions next to the cutting board when you join him again.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch the knives?”

“You’re not, until I show you how to do it without chopping off your fingers.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” you tease, but nevertheless settle in beside him to watch as he lines up a carrot and picks up the utility knife.

“We’re generally going for even pieces, though it doesn’t matter much because it’s a soup. Put your fingers like this,” you lean over a bit to see how he’s arranged his left hand holding the carrot, the tips of his fingers just barely tucked under the knuckles, “so that you can chop like this—“ he begins slicing, knife guided by his knuckles “—and not lose your fingers. Always point the blade away from yourself and others, and never hold the handle like you’re going to stab something. That’s not effective, anyway. If you have to use this as a weapon, it’s much more effective to slash rather than stab, considering bone density—“

“Uhh,” you cut in, “pause. Are we slicing carrots or fending off home invaders?”

He stops chopping. “What did I say about asking questions?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Anyway. Considering bone density, you’ll have better luck aiming to cut big veins than forcing through ribs.”

He’s done with the first carrot, now, lithe fingers flipping the knife so the blade is up.

“Never drag the blade along the surface sideways. Flip it over and use the blunt edge to move food.” He demonstrates, moving the little pile of carrot slices to a corner of the cutting board. “Your turn.”

And then, like it’s nothing, he’s offering you the handle with a flat expression.

“Uhm.” You press your lips together and eye it for a long pause. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just a carrot. You’ll be fine.” He lets another unsure moment slide into being, then sighs and reaches out to wrap your hand around the handle. “Here, like this.”

And like you’ve suddenly stepped into a poorly-written romcom, he’s guiding your hands under his to the next waiting carrot, curling your fingers exactly like he showed you before, and scooting over to let you stand in his place. You just let yourself go along with it, hoping desperately that he won’t feel your hands grow clammy or see the way your chin has tucked itself shyly to your chest so you can watch.

Fucking shit carrots, useless goddamn root vegetable, can’t chop itself, has to make me do all the work—

Your aggressive inner monologue takes you all the way through the second carrot, then his hands are leaving yours and he’s placing a third under your waiting blade. Time to fly solo.

—

When you fall asleep in the armchair that night, sated and full of comfort food, Levi sketches in pencil on scrap paper. He sketches his hands over yours in the kitchen and he sketches the steam rising from the pot on the stove. He sketches you sitting with a bowl of soup in your lap, face illuminated by the TV and he sketches your sleeping body curled up, hair in your mouth. He sketches a close-up of your face, with special attention to the curve of your bottom lip, and he considers it practice for finishing the painting in his room.

Levi doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t do something soon, all of this will change. About how you’ll get over your heartbreak and move out at the end of the year and he won’t see you every day and every night. And he definitely doesn’t think about how he’ll have to adjust back to sleeping without your soft body tangled in his, and he doesn’t wonder how he ever slept before you.

No, instead of thinking, he just cracks his knuckles and gently scoops you from the chair and into his arms.

It’s as he’s climbing into his side of your bed that you stir and snort and blink sleepy eyes open.

“What time is it?”

“Ten forty,” he whispers, “go back to sleep.”

You hum and turn on your side to face him, face half hidden by the squish of your pillow. He settles more comfortably in, tucks your head under his chin even though you’re taller than he is, and drapes his free arm around the curve of your waist. 

Quiet breathing is the only thing that fills the room for a long while, and he finally thinks you’ve drifted back off, when:

“Hey, Levi?”

“Hmm?”

“I... I’ve been thinking a lot, and...”

The tone of your voice is odd and it makes Levi’s throat seize up for a moment while you hesitate. He swallows deliberately.

“And?”

Your next words are more confident, like you have really been thinking a lot, your voice not sleepy in the slightest. It’s matter-of-fact and soft and lovely. 

“And you make me feel really safe. Just, like, all the time. And I’m glad I met you. You make me feel, um...,” a small sniffle, “You make me feel held.”

Levi tightens his arm around you and swallows again. It feels like he’s balancing on the head of a pin, and a thousand angels are swirling around him, and it’s taking all he has not to get pushed off.

“Well, I am holding you.”

“Psssssht,” you wriggle slightly back so you can look at his face. You look simultaneously exasperated and vulnerable in the shadows of your bedroom. “You know what I mean.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Well, I guess...” 

You pause to think for a moment, eyes flicking away from Levi’s face for a split second. Then, they’re back on his and he can feel the vulnerable honesty already spilling from you. 

“I’ve never really, um, gotten a lot of physical affection? From people in my life? And, uh, it’s not just that, it’s that you’re so... so— so familiar, and not just because I know you, godimnotmakingalickofsense, but because it feels like I’ve always known you?” It’s said like a question, like you want to know if he feels the same. “And you just make me feel held.”

You pause on a shaky inhale of breath, then cover your face with your hands and roll onto your back away from him. 

“God, I’m sorry, that doesn’t make any sense at all, I’ll just—“

“Stop,” Levi cuts you off, pushing up to lean over you and grasp your wrists in one hand and cover your mouth with the other, a mirror of the pair of you in the kitchen weeks earlier. “It makes sense. I get it.”

Your doe eyes stare up at him just like they did then and he selfishly indulges in an extra second of staring back before he releases you and slides back to rest on an elbow. Your hands stay demurely tucked by your chest where he put them and your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips as your eyes follow him. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Okay. Good.”

Suddenly, Levi doesn’t feel like going to bed. He feels like running for miles or painting until his hands ache or hitting something, anything to distract him from doing something incredibly stupid right now. The mattress sinks as he sits up and spins his legs out of bed, muttering something about tea and not tired yet, and he almost doesn’t catch the sensation of you sitting up behind him. 

He turns halfway back to tell you to go back to sleep, but your fingers catch his chin and he’s abruptly out of breath.

The curve of your bottom lip is perfectly, exactly the way he sketched it in the semi-dark. It’s slightly chapped.

When you kiss him, soft and certain, he topples off the pinhead and back into his body just in time to do something incredibly stupid and kiss you back.

—

(read part 7 here)

[gerrydelano]

do you have any jongerry fic refs? i love yours :-)

recs* not refs lol!

no problem! i got you, no worries 😊 list under the cut!

i generally do not read fic because i’m too focused on trying to write mine and when i do, i only read stuff by my friends or given to me by them since i know they wouldn’t pass it on if it wasn’t safe or genuinely good. 

so! i went ahead and asked aster @ofdreamsanddoodles​ for some recs for you since not only does he read a lot of fic but he ALSO wrote one of THE best jongerry fics i’ve ever read that Really stuck with me. thus, the list begins with:

MANDATORY READ: I’ve Got His Number From The Great Beyond by verboseDescription

one of my absolute favorite fics in this fandom, period, and one of the only jongerry fics i’ve personally read that actually feels RIGHT for them. i’m very picky about them kdjhfd. 

it’s an AU where gerry’s ghost ends up bound to a burner phone, and jon is trying to get him a new body! made me laugh and cry back to back in rapid succession could not rec this enough

and now for all the ones that he linked me when i asked!

01.  The World Will Turn by FullyRealized (WitchHobi)

“gerry & jon meet when jons in uni, & they start becoming friends, but you can see theres kind of like... an echo effect going on.” 

i’ll not spoil it, but apparently the worldbuilding has a lot of thought put into it, fun characterization, and it’s a comfortable read re: pacing and word count!

02. For Wondrous Ends by lyres

“basically jon asks gerry to de curse him & the curse is like. tied to martin in a way?”

jongerrymartin, which is not my personal cup of tea At All but i hear it’s got fun worldbuilding, too! which IS my cup of tea, and if you can make me believe something in the context of the world it’s in, then i’m down.

03. Jonathan Sims and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Archivist Job by arsonhtml

“theres only one chapter so far & its short, so i cant get a good read on the contents other than it is pretty funny. jon gets asked to be archivist and immediately asks gerry for help, bc clearly he knows what the position entails.” 

nice. i love when gerry tells the archives crew what’s up in like any context tbh.

04. the one thing in the galaxy god didn’t have his eyes on by disasterdrow

“short oneshot of jon talking to gerry after getting out of court for his moms trial” 

ow ow ow sounds like i should read this one too because Demon Emoji,,, the title is grabbing me by the bones

05. reverse nighthawks by androdyke 

“outsider pov oneshot bc sasha is a nosy bitch. gerry isnt in this much, its just her & tim trying to find out who jons in love with but its funny”

okay i love that concept LMFAO get his ass! thinking “gerry dawson” thoughts and laughing on the floor

06. the body is a temple, follower of aphrodite by toxinspired

“oneshot just about being v in love. i think someone in the gtcu chat made this? v sweet” 

yes, elijah was briefly in the gtcu chat! it was lovely to have em around, and this was soooo sweet 10/10

07. agony quiets to pain by bluejayblueskies

“gerry in the hispital after his burns”

oh no my actual weakness jhvbkjn *bookmarks*

08. fool me, fool me by androdyke 

group chat fic! this one was recommended by Two people, it’s SO good that aster said, “you have to read it. you HAVE to” and well! you heard him!

09. I'll try to talk refined by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) 

“gerry haunts jons workplace so jon brings him home w him. dont remember it super well but its VERY good”

well you know me i love a good haunting 

10. Secure by TalkingAnimals

“basira: why on earth would you put up with a roommate who keeps blasting metal at weird hours  jon: i like knowing hes here”

love that concept this is so cute

11. etched in lines and shading by bluejayblueskies

tattoo artist gerry! i LOVE a good tattoo artist gerry here we GO

12. carry it with you if you want to survive by freudiancascade

jon and gerry go leitner hunting! and it goes very awry! i love that concept

hope you like these, anon!

[britishassistant]

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

���Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can���t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

[bamsywrites]

Mistakes Like These

Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that

Rating: 18+, nsfw

Words: 4877

Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use

Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader

Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.

“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.

Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.

Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.

Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.

You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.

Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.

Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.

And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.

-----------

Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.

In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.

“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.

“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.

You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.

“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”

There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.

“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.

“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.

God, you just wanted to go to your room.

“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”

Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”

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

“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.

Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.

“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.

“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.

“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”

Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”

Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

-----------

You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too.  That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.

Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.

You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.

You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.

------

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.

“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.

Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.

“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.

Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.

I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.

The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.

Does she feel as soft as she looks?

He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.

The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.

“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”

Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.

“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”

---------

It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.

There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.

After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.

“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.

“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”

You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.

“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.

“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.

“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.

You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”

Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”

You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”

“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”

You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away.  “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, at the time it did.”

You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”

“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.

“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”

“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”

“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.

“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.

“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”

Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”

“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”

Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.

“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.

Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.

Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”

He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”

You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.

“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”

In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.

You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”

Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.

He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.

“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”

You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.

“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”

He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.

“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.

“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”

It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.

“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.

“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”

You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.

“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.

“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.

“You know we can’t uh…-”

“Yup.”

“Like, ever.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”

You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.

“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”

--------

Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.

It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “

“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.

“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”

I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.

“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”

-----------

Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!

[ulkoilla]

I found this meme via @bleachbleachbleach​ and decided to tag myself xD

Color coding in here is weird? But I’ll use it so that S is for search, A is something that I super-like and D is something that I don’t like that much. But I don’t really skip stories for tropes, it’s more about how the tropes are done that does it for me. This is mostly for my reader self’s opinion, but it’s not overly different from my write’s opinion.

Because I love to hear people’s comments on tropes, I’ll provide some of my own!

I usually view “fix it” as canon divergence, which is something I hugely go for. Because few canons have done everything Right, and I love to see the divergences. But the fics tagged as fix it… I don’t know, they often tend to focus heavily on the one (1) aspect they are trying to fix. Often it’s a pairing, which is why I personally don’t normally search for fix it.

I also lump arranged marriages and fake relationships together because the arranged marriage fic I search is often a fake relationship xD Because it makes sense. Two people have marry because they are told to and there are little other possibilities? “Listen, sir, I know you don’t want to marry me, and I don’t want to marry you, but it is what it is, so let’s marry for the sake of X and have our own lives. Let’s be mature about this and communicate, and I’m sure we’ll get along as much as we’ll have to.”

Sadly, these stories too often end up as love stories, but it was fun as long as lasted.

Ofc there are other takes on arranged marriage. If they are taken, I’m almost always pleasantly surprised. Which is how we get to Dark fic – one of the tropes I’ll go wild for. Often it is because “the good guys” in canon material are so good they make me a bit sick. Sometimes it is because the villains seem to better persons than I am, which make me a bit more sick. So it’s good to have some actual darkness in the story.

But if it gets too dark, angsty and hurt-ey, it loses it’s potency. Hurt/comfort is therefore a good thing to have, but I admit I don’t search for it as much I used to. It’s probably because many h/c stories lack other aspects, and I prefer long fic. A 100k story made purely to hurt and heal a character isn’t my cup of tea anymore. I’ve read them, I’ve enjoyed them, but after a while they start to seriously repeat, in this reader’s opinion.

Body swaps and gender swaps instead have always been a thing for me and I’m a bit disappointed these are rarely seen these days. I think there are two reasons on this: sensitivity towards for the readers who struggle with gender dysphoria, and that way these fics are too often turned to simple crack fic. Which is not to say that I dislike crack, but I think there is a lot of potential in body swap and gender swap, if approached seriously.

The last “S for Search” bunch for me is the AU’s. I don’t usually search a single type of AU, I just search an AU. Yes - also Soulmates AU! I’m not after romance and sex in my fic reading preferences, but I actually have taste for this because of how utterly, deliciously fucked up the soulmates systems tend to be.

Moving to a category down (from search to super-likes), there is unrequited love, with a bit of the same note than the Soulmates AU.

Missing scenes, time loops, gen fic and amnesia fics are in super-likes category mostly because it usually doesn’t occur for me to search these, but when encountered, I usually approach if the content is otherwise of interest for me. I usually pass, for example, missing sex scenes. Of these I especially like amnesia fics, but I usually view them primarily through other tropes (h/c, canon divergence etc ). They, too, have a lot potential but too often (to tastes of this reader, not objectively xD) amnesia is played as a tool to facilitate romance. For example, I can’t remember ever seeing a fic where the one with amnesia is forced to study the world around them more objectively, free from the previous biases towards the actions and objectives of their allies and enemies.

In the “B” category, “likes”, I put slow burn, crack and A/B/O. Slow burn is perhaps my favorite romance trope, probably because it usually comes with another plot attached, and usually I’m there for the other plot. In A/B/O, similarly, I go for the whole hypothetical sexuality things and how the writer shows it and its effects on the society.

“B” is also a category for neutral tropes or “tropes”, like Crack and Major character death. This is stuff I don’t have a bone to pick, it happens, I usually like it in a story if the other aspects are doing it for me.

Category C is now called “approach with some caution”. Many romance-related trophies go in here. Established relationships, pregnancies, and babies, especially. Again, I don’t dislike these elements - add a layer of fire and brimstone and I’m in! But when the story focuses on, say, a pregnancy, there is relatively little one can do with it. A pregnancy you wanted? Nice, congrats, end of the story or enter: a baby fic. An unwanted pregnancy? More room for drama, but it doesn’t make much of a story either if the characters don’t behave stupid or seriously Miscommunicate.

Which end up the least desired box, D, “approach with extreme caution” for being the perhaps weakest and most boring method to create tension. The D category has mostly vehicles to initiate sex and romance, which I’m not after, in case it wasn’t clear at this point of the post xD Ofc there is also e.g. humorous takes on sharing a bed, or other takes that won’t result in sex or cuddling after the initial awkwardness. Nothing wrong with the less typical takes, in this reader’s opinion!

Most of the persons I follow and may be interested are already tagged, so please help yourself if you feel like sorting!

[ibelonginthepast]

okay I need your klance fic recs(i feel like you have really good taste)(i mean your icon is literally THE keith of course you have god tier taste)

okay so the thing is.. that when i say am kinda messed up and disgusting sometimes... and becoming a madwoman... am not over exaggerating or saying it in a funky way.. i actually am getting like that .. and that's how i got into the klance fandom initially. i project through lance and read really langsty fics.. and they are messed messed with like violent nsfw, gore, horror, serious mental health issues etc? so if u want those... i'll only send them if u want?

yeah tho i entered with this thingy that klance is gonna be like my guilty pleasure or some shit but them i inevitably fell in love with some GORGEOUS fanfictions out there and KEITH KOGANE in all shapes sizes genders and ages so lol...

but they aren't flowery. that's just not my taste. Some of them might be "problematic"? it's in quotes because i don't agree with it. it's not going to be problematic in plain ignorant sense like racial issues or blatant sexism or mental abuse.... but they might have like stuff which people dont always agree with like drugs. most of them would have nsfw it's just something that i need to have for feels and that's why i asked if u minded it. some things are like more subjective,, characterizations for example, cause like some people dont think keith is a skirt guy cause he isnt in fashion but i think he is petty and rebellious so he will defo do that? some of them would have like physical fights and stuff.. or keith and lance being mean to each other.. some ugly habits which aren't necessarily condemned like anger or drugs.? but with how i see it, it's not glorified, so i see them as human. i love the raw and ugly in these or idk its just human to me (but some people dont like which is completely valid cause we are all different from different environments and think different and resonate with different stuff.)

wait addition: i think some of them will have sexist themes? which i have complained about a lot before. i dont know why authors feel the need to somehow put women down to show how a mlm relationship without any women is superior or some shit it's annoying as fuck i hate it. i dont think i would have any especially sexist fics here, but there might be some with lowkey themes and bad handling of those issues. some of them mau have that subtext of disgusting heteronormative standards, but in subtext uk like bottom lance having a small waist and being giggly and all in contrast to big bulk keith.

here are some that i had bookmarked... but i may remember some more and then send them to u and or add them here...

a heads up.. i dont remember all of them very well. its been a while and i read fanfictions A LOT so yeah.. incase one slips up here which isnt very good am sorry dont judge me

the bold ones are the ones u should really check out if our taste is similar.

to begin with plain f l u f f,, my first klance bookmark was How Could I Say No? by Padfoots_Pawprint. tws for violence, bullying, injury BUT it's not actually gory or something like that it's just keith being keith and getting hurt and lance helping my boi like he should. it made me feeeeeeeel ksksk

this was one that kinda really touched me,, Wasted youth, Cryptids, and Waterboys by Baea THIS HAS EXPLICIT NSFW in it, the first chapter kicks off with it.. its a good fuck buddies to lovers in my opinion.. i love the writing style, the choice of how it's just a couple entries of random days in their lives. i love keith's characterization.. he is a hobo and a conspiracy nerd.. i love how down for him lance is, very dedicated. i love their growth.. i love how they help each other grow,, and it's so like real and usual day to day and human and down to earth idk how else to express it. this is INCOMPLETE. it's 12 chapters and discontinued as of now,, but it's not a deadly cliffhanger

similar in style and approach to the above. tho i think here is where it gets dubious. Easy, Tiger. by @/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot ... this is INCOMPLETE too and as of now discontinued. this has that sorta murky vibe with it's drug usage, them being teenagers in school and engaging in stuff like this, bad boy keith and all. this has nsfw too. i just remember really liking it and its very raw and unfiltered. tho it's incomplete it's not an open ending for now.

okay so i am restarting this but am upset as fuck that it all got deleted so i am gonna be lazy and not put as much effort as i did.

i have also Crowd Pleaser bookmarked by the same author,, this one's complete and it has some serious issues around gaslighting if i remember correctly... i really liked it then. keith is literally an angel here, i want to kidnap him and marry him literally. the s h w ee t e s t shit ,, and i like how lance gives him all the support and space to get his shit together

Drummer boy by klancekorner,, i think it's similar to the prev one, but lance's pov(which is what i prefer ngl). this authors fanfics are all just wholesome. i had put links to all their fics before, but imma now just say that u should go and check all their fics out. i have them all bookmarked, i must have seen something in them (can't remember what now tho and i cant be bothered to skim through them like last time *rolls eyes*)

War of hearts? idk why honestly, just ik keira has made me gay, and lesbian rejection angst? garrison? yes :) it's incomplete, conveniently left at the point where lance's heart is broken lol

Fuck buddies with benefits. THE NAME IS BAD I KNOW but i just love the idea of a dedicated mess of a keith and lance taking care of him. that's it that's the fic if i remember correctly. oh wait yeah u might think keith is not treating lance right, but i think it's fine if lance is treated a bit stupid. this is a bit too sex driven tho i dont like it but just SLEEPDEPRIVED KEITH TO TAKE CARE OF IMMA SIGN UP (ik this maybe coming off toxic but lol look at me)

Rambling: THIS WAS ME.

Last Defense: TW SUICIDE this is literally the langst i have for canon lance

I want something else: bad boy keith can break my limbs and cut my face and i will thank him

A thank you would be nice: keira damn

game-set-match: b a d b o y

I swear to go the devil made me do it: my typically fav trop, hardcore pining lance, literally perfect angsty keith. very similar to the top ones ig? idk also this one is one of my comparatively recent sane bookmarks so that's something. it starts off weird, u think it gon be subtly sexist but it turns out better so hold on

you've got me locked up: i think it's delinquent keith,, its floofy

Dad lance and tattoo artist keith: the name says it

damn while going through my bookmarks i realized that there are a lot of things i never bookmarked? i am pretty sure i loved a lot of long fanfictions, flower shop aus and tattoo artists shit wtf-

wait here's one, it's not complete: Blood jumps in the sun: it's very heavy has a lot of growth and kinda wholesome,, tags and summary will give u an idea what u getting in.

The lessons we learned: can't remember much other than florist keith, sad keith, smart keith, really long, pining

damn i think i have a lot of happy ones i didn't bookmark cause my brain was like u dont deserve the serotonin :( i'll add if i have more)

some actually angsty, detailed nsfw and messy (according to the way u interpret these) ones... lemoninagin.. they have some very detailed and explicit nsfw stuff but i am not there for it. some of it has the kind of angst i like? an actual one that i love and they recently posted and the reason am putting them here is infinitesimal. best friends to lovers and tho usually it's not my cup of tea.. it's a character study, an interpretation of klance in a modern world i dare say,, which is very similar to mine. the thing about them is that i like their characterization a lot, and in no love in this, i like what kind of background stories they give to klance in their aus. i haven't read many by them, so if u want u can check them out.

i just realized i have put some lowkey sad/fucked fics here... i did remove 5 rn... i hope its all good damn why am i doing this i feel like am putting myself naked out there when i recommend my favs

[criminaly-supernatural]

Can I get a Mafia au with Leo? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Leo mafia au

Leo x g/n reader

Mutants are a regular occurrence in this story so, you know, people are used to seeing them around.

I know there isn't much about the mafia side of things in this one but I got carried away and now I'm definitely going to be writing multiple of these, so there will be more mob stuff in future chapters.

Summary: how you meet leo

Warnings: sleazebags, mild harrasent

To you it was just another normal Saturday in New York city. When you awoke that morning you did everything as you normally would. You got up and grogily made your way towards the bathroom for a morning shower.

Once out of the shower you got dressed, made yourself a cup of ( your favorite beverage) and left for work.

You worked as a waiter/waitress in Brooklyn at a small mom and pop style restaurant. You knew that it was right in the middle of mob territory but you didn't care very much because they paid well.

You usually didn't work on weekends, but your co-worker John was unable to come in due to a last minute emergency and you agreed to cover his shift.

The first two hours of the shift were uneventful, the restaurant wasn't too busy and you had just finished serving a lovely elderly couple, who tipped you generously.

As you continued waiting the tables a group of tall mutant turtles came in and sat down in your section.

The first thing you noticed was their stature, they all towered over everyone, as all but one of them were probably over 6 feet tall. They were all muscle; you thought about how they definitely did quite a bit of working out.

The next thing you noticed was how they were dressed. They all wore nice expensive looking suits that looked as if they had been tailored to fit them perfectly. Each one of them had a different colored tie.

The shortest of the four wore an orange tie and a cheeky smile upon his face. He had his tie undone and looked like the most approachable of the group.

One of the taller turtles, who wore a purple tie, was wearing a pair of glasses that you could only describe as fitting. His eyes were glued to his phone while he listened to the others talk. With the glasses he looked smart, but you wouldn't be able to confirm this until you talked to him.

The turtle with the most muscle wore a red tie and was intimidating to say the least. If you looked up the word masculinity in a dictionary you would find his picture next to it. He had an annoyed look on his face as he listened to the one with the orange tie talk about something.

The last of the group you would definitely say was the handsomest of the group. He wore a blue tie and was built well. You noticed that he was not joining the others at the table, instead he had walked towards your bosses office. You thought on this briefly before moving on and continuing to take the orders of your current customers.

After a couple minutes the tall, handsome turtle in blue emerged from your bosses office with your boss not far behind. The turtle went and joined his companions as your bossed walked in your direction.

Suddenly your boss pulled you to the side. " (y/n), your covering John's shift today right?". "Yes, I am", you responded, "why do you ask?". Then your boss responded, "You see that table over there," they said while nodding in the direction of the table that the four terrapins were sat at, "they are extremely important people and they are dangerous, so be careful and don't mess anything up. You hear me!" Your boss said.

"Dangerous? What do you mean by that? Who are they?" You asked curiously. Your boss looked at you with an exasperated expression upon their face, "Who they are isn't important," they say with a shake of their head, "all you need to know is that you shouldn't mess anything up and that you should be careful," Your boss tells you, "Now go take their orders before they get tired of waiting." And with that you made your way towards their table, only a little nervous about taking their orders. If your boss said someone was important then they were important.

"Hello," you said with a smile, "my name is (y/n) and ill be your server today," You said. As you looked up at the four of them you were only startled for a moment when you met the piercing blue gaze of the turtle in blue. Quick to recover you continued, "What would you like to drink today?"

The one in orange was quick to reply, "I'd certainly like a tall glass of water like you, angel cakes." He said with a wink. The others just rolled their eyes, obviously used to his flirting. You just giggled and responded, "I,m sorry, im not on the menu." You said with a blush.

They all looked a little surprised at this. The big on had a devilish smirk on his face, the one with the glasses stopped looking at his phone for a moment and laughed, while the tall one in blue had a small smile grace his features. The orange one just laughed as he continued with his order, "I'll just have an orange soda, angel cakes." He said. You then turned to look at the others awaiting their drink orders.

"I'll have a coffee, black," the one in glasses said, not looking up from his mobile device. "And ill have a glass a Dr.pepper." The big one with the red tie stated in a thick Brooklyn accent. Then you turned to the last one looking at him, patiently awaiting his order. "I'll have an ice raspberry tea this evening, miss/mr. (y/n)" he stated in a sweet tone. "Okay, ill be back with those in a moment." Then you walked away to go get their drinks.

When you returned the four of them seemed engrossed in a conversation, so much so that it took them a minute to realize that you were there. Once they did realise that you are there they quickly stopped talking. You dropped of there drinks and politely told them that you would be back in a bit to take their orders.

A couple minutes later you returned to their table. "What would you all like to eat today?" While you had expected them all to give you individual orders for meals, this did not happen. Instead the one in blue said, "We'd like the biggest sized pizza you've got, please." So you wrote that down and went to give their order to the chef.

After you had gotten them their pizza and dropped it off at their table you moved on to a table of men who had just come in, who weren't seated too far from the colossal terrapins.

"What can I get for you gentlemen today?" You said. "Oh, If you wouldn't mind I'd love to have some of you. What do you say, baby?" One of them said with a sleazy smile while trying to grab at your thigh under the table. Unlike the light flirting you had received from the orange turtle, this man's flirting seemed sinister and was unwelcome. In response to him you swatted his had away and stated as politely as you could, "No thank you, im not interested. I meant what would you like to eat and drink."

"Oh don't be like that baby." The same man said as he continued to try and harass you, his friend snickering at your obvious discomfort. "Please stop sir, im not interested." But no matter what he wouldn't let up.

All of a sudden a fist came into view and the man had been grabbed by the shirt and lifted into the air by the turtle in blue. "They said no pal," he said with a menacing growl, " you're gonna apologize to this nice server here and then your going to leave understand?" The man, too scared to reply, quickly nodded his head in agreement. Then he was let down, as soon as his feet touched the ground he murmered a quick apology and made his way towards the exit, followed by his buddies.

You were breathing heavily from the shock of how quickly everything happened but you turned to the tall terrapin and gave thanks, "Oh my gosh thank you so much... um, sir, i-" the turtle cut you off " Leonardo." He said, "Uh, what?" You questioned. "My name, its leonardo." He stated. "Well then, thank you very much Leonardo for standing up for me, a total stranger, like that."

He smiled at your apology, a real smile and you couldn't help but think about how you wanted to see him smile all the time. " No thanks is nessesary, I just don't like seeing scum bags like that trying to take advantage of a beautiful/handsome thing like you." He said suavely. You blushed at his complement, some how his smile got bigger.

Then you were walking back over to his table with him. " Thank you again." You said. He just shook his head at that, while sitting back down. His companions seemed shocked at the events that had just transpired. "Oh, (y/n), these are my brothers; Michelangelo, Donnetello, and Raphael" he said motioning towards them each while saying their names. They only looked shocked for a brief moment before it seemed like something clicked in all their minds simultaneously. " Hello again, its nice to meet you all officially." They all nodded in return.

Leonardo then pulled out his wallet to pay for the food. "No, I cant let you do that," you told him. " What! Why not?" He said while giving you a quizitorial face. "Because you stood up for me, as my thanks, your meal in on the house." You said while smiling at him.

"Does that mean I can order more food?" Michelangelo said. His answer came from his brothers in a chorus of, " Mikey!"

"Very well," Leonardo said, "but in return for the free food, you have to give me your number. Only if you want to of course." He added. You smiled at him and said, " thats not how its supposed to work, im supposed to be thanking you!" You said in exasperation, "but i suppose I could give you my number." He smile at your response.

So you wrote down your number and gave it to him. And with that they left and you continued your shift, all the while thinking about Leonardo and his smile. Wondering when you would see him next.

[avianurges]

For the ask meme- yes. The whole fucking alphabet. Any fandom of your choice for any of them -kipp

LMAO THE WHOLE THING? THIS SHOULDNT BE ALLOWED-

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

Honestly besides the Constant love for Mell and Kai, Ash and Eiji from banana fish, and Reki and Langa and Joe and Cherry from sk8 right now. Also i like Lawlight from specifically the 2015 death note tv drama. OH. AND ALSO. SEKI AND SHIMIZU FROM OYASUMI PUNPUN I LOVE THEM

(Side note ngl Detective Roberts and His Ex-Wife are v nice together i like them)

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

Ellspen from Self Aware. LIKE LISTEN. I KNOW I WRITE THE THING. BUT I NEVER CONSIDERED THAT UNTIL READERS STARTED SHIPPING IT

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will (be nice)

Uhhh idk I never thought about it. Ig i’m not really a fan of Aizawa/All Might? that’s the first ship to come to mind. oh and also Hawks/Endeavor. not my cup o tea, never will be

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t (again: be nice)

Any ship with Tanaka from haikyuu that Isnt him and kiyoko. like art of him and enoshita or him and noya are Cute, but i just dont ship it

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

Does writing “Regenerate, Fate” count

I also have Goose Yagami meme and the yelling cat meme but it’s death note

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

BNHA fandom has been since... november 2017ish

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

.........................................................................Klance.

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)

(ngl i dunno what this Means so sorry if my answer doesn’t make sense but-) I really like anime and animation, but also i really like comics and manga, more so now that im Making a comic

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

I don’t think tumblr’s ever stopped making me like a fandom, but just like. stop going in tumblr’s tag for it. for example 15ish year old me was NOT ready to see the things in the undertale tag that i did. oh god the horrors.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

i dont think tumblrs ever led me to starting a show/getting into a fandom, but pinterest has. most of my fandoms have been through seeing random things on pinterest ngl

K -Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms

Vigilantedekus is The Best and I Love Them

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike)

Matsuda from death note might’ve been played as the “Funny because he keeps fuckin up” kinda chara, but i do like that he was the one to shoot light and that he had that kind of outburst about light’s dad. BUT ALSO MATSUDA’S THEORY IN THE END OF THE MANGA? RIGHTS.

M - Say something genuinely nice about a ship that you don’t ship (or its shippers, or anything related to you)

i dont have anything specific in mind, but all fandoms have DOPE artists

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

head empty no thoughts

O - Choose a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of

Right now “The mind electric” reminds me of Jamie from SA, “Butterfly’s Repose” reminds me of Mell And Kai

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

uh uh uh uh Self Aware but without Aviancorp. That’s the only difference. The au is just what kind of ripple effect it would have on everyone and their lives

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why

nothing’s coming to mind

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

Sobs. Seki and Shimizu from Goodnight Punpun. I only say them for this because theres So Little People who know them

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Athen (my oc, Choosing(02)) wants to see hatsune miku because he uses a voicebank to speak and “! she sounds like me!” 

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

I’m going to do these with my OCs instead. because while im the author, they’re headcanons because most of them i cant Really make canon: 

Athen has a mothman pajama set. He and adam have matching “Humanfucker”/”Robofucker” shirts

athen Has seriously wondered if adam would leave him for mothman

athen gets a pet roomba named Hal

Jamie would be a good parent

Sam (one of the dead kids from Subject 402/SA-) would’ve been a soccer player if she lived

Letho (the Other dead kid) would’ve been an art student

if jordan(Kai) had a Normal Life and WASNT a human experiment, he wouldnt be very accomplished in school despite being a genius, he’d be kinda a delinquent and getting in trouble a lot

If mell had a younger sibling, people would probably think HE’S the youngest one. they would not believe he were older if they were close in age

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

Mob from Mob psycho

L and Light are tied

Aizawa and Shinsou and Deku are top faves ig

ash and eiji from banana fish. love them. AND SHORTER> LOVE HIM

i like punpun as a character but if i had the chance i would prolly throw hands

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

Mell and Kai - Self Aware

Shindeku OR tododeku - bnha

(Letho and (Redacted)) - Self Aware (but like. the au if letho Lived)

Ash and Eiji - Banana Fish

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said ships

I think we all know my fave ships from this post so far. no need to do this question lmao

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

MOB. WOULD KILL FOR HIM BUT I KNOW HE WOULD BE :( AT ME FOR IT

ngl there aren’t many Precious Babies. like I’d say Hinata is a precious baby but haikyuu ends when he’s like fuckin 30 so what counts as a precious baby hmmm

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

my dash gets so much TMA

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

this post is long enough,,,

[btswishes]

Back in time

BTS Au

Part1 / Part2 / Part3 / Part4 / Part5 /…

A/N: Going strong with this one I hope. Sorry for any mistakes made. Enjoy.

Word count:   3,630

Warnings: None

  Almost pushed out of the court house you walked up the stairs, until you found yourself in front of the same skillfully carved wooden door.Knocking a few times you heard a ‘come in’. The door was heavy but not something impossible to move. The smell of peaches danced around you, as you were illuminated by the brightness of the candles.

“Over here.” the male voice came from the balcony and you followed it without saying a word.

 Jimin was sitting on a pillow his right leg bent,  his elbow resting onto his knee as he was holding a tea cup. His head slightly crooked in your direction. With a light bow you said gently:

“Great Wang.”

The serious face of his lit up as he started laughing out of no where. You panicked looking around yourself to see if you had something on you.

“Wang?”he laughed out again “ What made you speak in such way? Its has been only one day since I last saw you.” Jimin placed the small tea cup onto the tray next to himself.With his palm facing up he showed you a pillow “ You can sit down, unless being a tree has become your new calling.” snapping out of the shock, you followed his hand and sat down.

“I heard of your achievement today.” his head moved towards you as his pupils touched the corners of his eyes

“H-how did you know?” a soft stutter left your lips

“Word travels fast to the Emperor’s ears.” he closed his eyes and inhaled the refreshing night air “ Some of the gungnyeo were talking in front of the throne room and I overheard.Of course I called in the jejo sanggung to ask her personally and she validated.”

Your were staring at the pillow confused by his words.

“After all this I decided that the ruckus you began with this action was worthy of a commemoration. I don’t know if jejo sanggung mentioned to you the title uinyeon.”

“Your Highness, what does this all mean?”you asked

“That you have a role in the court house.”

Hearing his words did not give you the answer you were looking for, so once more, rephrasing it you spoke.

“That is not what I mean Your Highness. What does uinyeon mean?”

Almost as if struck by lightning, his body turned towards you. Lips slightly parted and eyes wide open.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you don’t know what uinyeon means?” the answer that came his way was a nod “Not even jejo sanggung?” you answered the same way “Gungnyeo? You at least have to know that!” yet you didn’t. In one fast swoop he stood up saying only a ‘Come’. Following his swift body you found yourself in front of his desk. The emperor pulled out some paper, a brush and ink.

“I at least hope you know that the court house is filled with women.” his gaze was focused onto the trails of ink the brush was leaving onto the paper

“Lady An explained that it was created for females, that wished to practice healing and other things ,that weren’t yet allowed in the old times for women to do freely.As well as educating maids. ” mesmerized by his hand you explained this bit of information

“Half true. Come here.” grabbing your hand suddenly Jimin pulled you towards the back of the desk and sat you into his chair. Leaning over your shoulder you could feel his breath onto your skin, the trails of soft, sweet,  flower sent that his body was leaving with each move. “Look at this.” snapping out of the hypnotized state, you focused onto the slightly yellow tinted paper.

“Gungnyeo is the name people use when referring to the women that live in the court house. It means court women or those that tend to the royal family. The women that work under these names are of the high society and lower classes or the working women. Such as- can you read this?”

You scrunched your eyebrows a bit and tried your best to read the word ,that was standing on top of the brush tip, like a man on a mountain.

“Ummm... nu...nu...nuin?”

“Close. The word is read nain. Nain are divided into seven main departments inside the palace. Try reading these. Focus on these letters here since I guess for someone uneducated in our ways it might be hard. I presume ,since I don’t remember a time when I was uneducated in many areas such as you are currently.” it sounded like a straight up insult, but you tried your best to ignore it.

“This one says ji....jimil. Hey it sounds kinda like your name, Jimin.” the air in your throat stopped when you realized the words that came out of your mouth. As high as you could go your body jumped and bowed. “Forgive my insolent remark Your Highness, great Wang of these lands.” Fear took over you and you couldn’t bear to look up. Waiting.

“Uhh.” a loud sigh took over the room “Raise your head.” slowly you did as said. His palm was onto his eyes ,before he looked at you with a sharp and annoyed look “ Great Wang? Yet my name is being compared to the status of a closet servant such as a jimil nain.“

 With a strong hand he grabbed the chair and turned it towards you “You will compensate for the insolence later. For now just sit down and mind your mouth.”his head moved sharply pushing you to read. You were motivated not to make a mistake since Jimin was already annoyed enough. “What comes after jimil. Go on.” the brush made a silent tapping sound when he pointed with it.

“ chimbang , subang , sesugan , saenggwabang , sojubang , and sedapbang” you didn’t even stutter

“  See? It wasn’t that bad.” as swiftly as he arrived Jimin walked over to the bed and sat down onto the beautiful covers “For most what you just did was like eating ddeok while lying down.” his hand made a circle in the air and he head crooked to the side “ It is an expression used when something is easy.”

“Ah.”you leaned onto your palm “Like the proverb It’s a piece of cake.”

“ Anyways.I forgot to say. All the name you read are nain that have different roles in the palace. Some are tailors, other as I already mentioned closet servants.”the last part of the sentence was sharp and slowly spoken “You have women who do basic work like cooking and taking care of stuff ecc.. Lady An is known as a jejo sanggung. She has authority over the other gungnyeo excluding the royal concubines.” his body went back and hit the soft bedding “We don’t have any of them anymore so ,I guess she rules over the court house without an exception . Oh and uinyeo is a title given to female physicians that usually take care of women, but you have the freedom to work with any patient in need.”

“Wait a second Your Highness, I haven’t done half of the work Lady An has. Shouldn’t she be named such?” you followed him to the bed sitting on the side

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. Your status is still far lower than jejo sanggung An.”

 His tongue was sharp and very hurtful. Almost like a snake spitting venom at a foe. Using the moment that he had his eyes closed, you made a chocking motion in the air while muttering a few curse words in your language.

“Something wrong?” he asked “You seem to be waving in the air too much.”

“Oh me? What? hahaha no. There was an insect.”hiding your hands quickly behind your back, you fake laughed

“If it’s not here anymore I would like for you to stop moving so much. You are going to cause a typhoon in my room.” with a calm movement he pointed towards a balcony “Bring me my tea.”

“Yes Your Highness.” your voice sounded nice and soft but in reality your mind was imagining the many ways in which you could kill him. Relax Y/N, the fact is ,your head could be rolling around the palace if you annoy this guy. He was nicer when his stupid ass was suffering from insomnia. you were warming up the tea again Should have left him the way he was.

“Leave the tea.”

“Yes Your Highness.” -spoiled brat, you screamed in your head

“Hurry up. I want to hear some stories of your lands.”

“Of course Great Wang.- Oh i will tell you a story.A real good one. Nightmares for 5 weeks dear great little shitty wang you! with a tap to the face ,you snapped out of the cussing spree you went on and sat at the end of the bed.

“You enjoy falling down?” 

‘I don’t think anyone enjoys hurting themselves Your Highness.” a strange answer to a strange question 

“I take that as a no.” still in his laying state, Jimin grabbed the end of your scarf. The soft and light fabric was gently touching your shoulders. With just a small tugging motion your body went forward and you fell.

“Ugh!” you heard. Slowly lifting your head up you found yourself on top of his chest. Trying to quickly get up proved to be the wrong choice as your hairpin got stuck. Jimin looked at you and laughed out.

“I am curious to know what your role was in your kingdom, seeing as how clumsy you are. He unhooked the flower part of your hairpin from his hanbok and sat up. “Care to tell me?”

 Fixing up your hair you tried to sit properly like you saw Lady An do a couple of hours ago.

“I was a student Your Highness. My role was to wake up and go to school, go home and study, get good grades and further my education in a high class establishment that will bring me a good job and income needed to keep myself alive, I guess.” you explained 

“ Women in your empire have such high education. And here I thought that we were making unbelievable changes to our lands.” he followed his words with a snort “ What story should I be expecting tonight from you? Fantasy? Mystery or something more on the realistic side?”

 Placing a finger onto your lips, you looked up in thought. What were you going to tell him tonight. You made yourself comfortable and started.

“Well, dear Wang. Tonight’s story is all of what you spoke gathered into one.” his look was childish and interested, swept by the strong waves of curiosity that you weaved with words.

“How is that even possible?” 

“I will show you. Far far in the future lived a girl.She was born unknowing of the journey that awaited her older self. Years and years she grew, went to school graduated from a few places. One day as she was making her way to the next room in which there was going to be a lesson, she passed by an open door. Curiosity took over her body and she decided to take small peek inside. It was empty, the windows open and one big map hanging from the wall.The girl wal-” suddenly Jimin asked 

“You keep your maps on the wall?That will damage them so much!” with a serious look you pierced Jimin

“Your Highness please! You know what they say: Don’t spread ashes on cooked rice.”

“You don’t want me to ruin your plans I see.” he chuckled “And here I thought you were uneducated. Proving me wrong must feel nice.” you cleared your throat and continued without saying a word. 

“As I was saying. The map inside the room was no ordinary piece. The moment the girl stepped close to it it pulled her inside. Sending her traveling back in time many many centuries back ,to a land and kingdom known to her only from books. She didn’t know the language and had no idea how to survive. Luckily a family took her in. They were poor and trying to feed another mouth was difficult. With a lot of work the girl was able to pay back their kindness. But soon after her achievements she was kidnapped by the emperor of these lands. Sadly she won’t be able to meet the family that saved her ever again.”

“What a scoundrel this emperor is !!! If i could get my hands on him i will show him how to rule over his lands properly!” his fist was in front of him furiously shaking. His words made you burst out laughing as loud as you could, causing Jimin to pull back slightly.

“ What seems to be so funny?”

 Whipping the tear off your eye, you calmed down “Nothing Your Highness.”

“If that is so you may continue with the story.” he leaned back onto his pillow 

“There is no more of this story.”

“What?” he pushed himself off the bed “What do you mean no more? What kind of story is this?!”

“One that is still in the writing Your Highness.”

“Is it a love story at least?” his words made your smile disappear

“I don’t think it’s possible great Wang. After all she is a commoner in the eyes of the Emperor. To him she is just a thing he uses to cure a long existing problem. Plus he sure enjoys making fun of her in any given to him moment.”your eyes were looking down as you spoke calmly with a hit of disappointment.

“ You might know many stories, but I can see that love is not one of your best. Love blooms when you don’t expect it. He isn’t making fun of her, he is just teasing the girl, because he has began to develop feelings for her. Most young boys pass through such emotional stages ,before they realis what they feel towards their person of affection.” unconsciously Jimin invited himself inside your biography, talking about himself. He stood up a bit and laid onto your lap like it was the most normal thing for him to do. You were taken back a bit, but it wasn’t the first time. He was truly a born king, not caring about anything unless it was his own comfort.

  “How positive in your words are you, Your Highness?” you pocked at him teasingly. His eyes were looking to the side when you asked this question.

“I don’t think it could be anything else but love.  If he chose her above everyone else, then there is no doubt in my mind. He is an Emperor after all, women aren’t something he is in lack of. So to take a plain girl and offer so much of his attention to her, must be the seed of love growing.” Jimin swung his hand around a bit, to add effect to his explanation. ”No man teases a girl like that for no reason.” he stood up suddenly “Love is far more simple than that.”

  Your eyes focused onto him, his shadow flickering under the candle light. For a second something in you removed the shackles of fear. You became bold, but from that very moment your heart had stopped from the way he looked. Who could you fool? No matter how much you tried to ignore the fact, you couldn’t. He wasn’t a beautiful man, he was out of this world. No crush of yours, or celebrity in the 21st century could compare to him. Catching your thoughts you shook your head and sighed looking away I can’t be thinking these things right now! He is a bully! 

  The emperor was speaking nonsense- was what you were trying to make yourself believe. Yet his gaze wasn’t focused on the painting, but what was standing in front of it. His mind also wandered around, place to place, but seemed to pull his eyes right back onto you. You being next to him, so close shut off his brain which made him panic and how did that show? Well simple, verbally in a wrong way.

“Where do you keep looking? Is the floor much more interesting than what I have to tell you ,or did you finally find the mind you seem to have lost.” Jimin’s words followed a laugh from his end, which triggered your suddenly found courage.

“Great Wang.” the title rolled off your lips, when Jimin noticed the serious look in your eyes “You seem to know so much, would you bless me with some of that wisdom. For I am but a simple girl.”

“Of course, when you phrase it like that, I can’t ignore your request for knowledge.” he smirked to himself “What is it that has you so curious?”

“All you said about love, do you stand by your words?” your heart began beating fast, like you were about to confess your feelings to a years long crush 

“Of course, my word is a very powerful thing.” he added

“Why do you bully me then?” your voice shot sharply into his ears, stopping Jimin’s breath right in its tracks “I understand that my place is with the commoners, but you chose me out of so many people in the palace. You tease me and make fun of me more than the other servants, nothing sweet or nice ever comes out of your mouth. I thought that at least in this time period men were a bit more gentle with women. You treat me roughly and rude. The other court women have hard jobs as well , but the way you look and talk to them is far more gentle than to me.” a tear started to form in your eye without you noticing, but to him it was oh so visible to the point he couldn’t move from his spot. Frozen by the spell of your inner truth “After the first day you could have asked upon another woman to keep telling you stories and helping you sleep. It could have been anyone.”

“I-” he couldn’t speak even when he tried, eyes wide as his lips

“You have so many women at your disposal. I am plain looking. So many beautiful women live and work on these grounds. With a snap of your fingers...” you turned to point at the big wooden frames “A women so beautiful, a  goddess couldn’t compare to her ,could walk inside and take you to the dream world. Yet here you are enjoying teasing and bulling me for not knowing the ways of your lands! I am only an idiot in your eyes. I-”

“You are!” he raised his voice, turning it to a deep growl.His hand grabbed your wrists pulling a gasp out of you. “You are a total idiot! Imbecile !” his words were harsh, harsher than what you were used to. You bit your lip trying to stay strong and not burst out crying. Weak, at least that you didn’t want to be in his eyes. 

“You are a big idiot to think that you aren’t beautiful! It makes me mad when you don’t listen to me, it makes me mad you run around after my brothers and talk so freely to them but try to be so prim and proper with me.  I have....” his voice lowered as the grip he had on you loosened for a moment “I hate that you act nice around me only because you are scared of getting killed! Yes ! I don’t see you as a woman, but it’s not because you are not, it is the opposite. Because in my eyes, if I see you as one that would be the end of this whole thing! I realized.” 

  His hand pulled you under his body, as Jimin looked down at you, arms keeping yours pushed back into the bedding. “I didn’t need those fake concubines that came to me as an offering or because they thought I looked good. They were much  better than you. They knew everything they needed, how to read and write poems, sow beautiful designs and sing like angels. But it was all too good, they were like mass produced dolls to satisfy me. Too perfect. You...” his hand let go of you and ran through your hair “ You speak your mind, you don’t care what I or anyone else will tell you. You fought my guards the first day for crying out loud woman.” JImin’s slowly got closer to yours, looking into your eyes “Do you think anyone would do something as reckless as that? You are like an untamable beast, it’s refreshing someone to go against me. “

“W-why do you bully me then..?” your voice stuttered at the distance he was from your lips 

“Because!” Jimin’s head looked to the side, his body pulling away from you “I dont know how to deal with myself when I am around you...I.” you tried to reach out to him

“Your Highness....” but he slapped your hand away. His words were for once sweet as honey, but his manners stung like a bee. 

“Go.”

“Ji-” you tried again

“I said GO!” his voice growled. You got up swiftly and ran out of the sleeping quarters as fast as your legs could carry you. The door of your room slammed closed and your body plopped onto the soft bedding, Face deeply buried into pillow you began to cry. All that had been gathering inside you since day one in this world. All you wanted to do was just to go home to your family and not worry about your life with each passing they. I had to open my big mouth,* sniff* I just had to.

[marias-in-pyjamas]

Eclipse: Chapter 1.3

See more from the masterlist.

Pairings:

Commanding Agent Adam du Mortain x Detective Eliana Langford x Specialist Agent Mason ; Agent Nate Sewell x Detective Ellara Kingston

Content Rating - Warnings: T - language, mentions of guns, dead body

Disclaimer: The Wayhaven Chronicles belongs to Seraphinite Games. This is based on TWC, and the fic will almost follow the game's original timeline. This is purely an AU where there are two detectives in town instead of one.

Inside the Police Station

14 Jan ’19 – 09:20

More than an hour had passed after Eliana’s talk with Officer Friedman earlier and Detective Kingston still hasn’t showed up. Whatever case she’s overseeing must’ve been serious if it took her that long in returning to the station. But still, Eliana waited patiently in her seat in front of the officer’s desk, only standing up for a few minutes every now and then to have a smoke.

The body from the crime scene arrived half an hour earlier, enclosed in a cadaver bag. The crime techs brought it straight to the lab downstairs without so much of a glance at her. Eliana resisted the urge to ask for details, knowing they’re not going to give her any.

Officer Friedman, thankfully, remained focus on his work even when she goes outside. He kept his phone in his pocket, and was alert to answer the few civilians who ask for help in the station. She’s itching to help herself, but she knows she can’t do anything yet until she talks with Detective Kingston first. As far as anyone is concerned, she’s still an outsider in this police station and this town.

As Eliana was finishing the cup of coffee the officer made and offered her, a man stepped outside of the laboratory. He is wearing a crisp pair of slacks and pressed button-down shirt underneath his lab coat, and was distractedly making coffee for himself. While he was waiting for the machine to finish brewing, he turned his attention and looked around the station. Apparently only noticing her then, the man’s head slightly tilted to the side, as if in thought.

Turning to the police officer in front of her, Eliana asked, “Officer Friedman, who’s that?” She motioned with her head towards the man in the pantry subtly.

Looking at who she’s talking about, the boy turned his body around and answered, “Oh, that’s Doctor Verda. He’s our pathologist.” Seeing that Dr. Verda is already looking at the pair, Officer Friedman called out to him to introduce the two of them. “Hey, Doctor Verda,” he motioned with his hands, making the doctor raise his eyebrows in question. “This is Detective Langford. She said she was transferred here from the big city. Do you have an idea what time Detective Kingston will arrive?”

His curiosity piqued a little, Dr. Verda approached them. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” he answered the officer. “Is that true? There’s gonna be a new detective around?” He addressed his question to the detective.

“Seems like it, doctor,” Eliana said. She stood up and extended her hand towards the pathologist. “Detective Eliana Langford. I’m from the Metropolis Police Department. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Dr. Verda shook her extended hand firmly. “No need to be so formal, detective. It seems like we’ll be workmates from now on. I’m Doctor Solomon Verda.” The doctor smiled warmly at her and added, “I came from the city myself, you know, before finally settling down here with my family.”

Instantly feeling a little affinity for the man in front of her, Eliana cracked a little smile at that. After withdrawing her hand, she asked, “Oh? And how was the adjustment from the big city to the small town?”

“Well, having my family with me helps a lot. And I’m really more of a quiet and calm environment kind-of guy than the hustle and bustle of the city.”

Oof. Family. The concept’s a little far-fetched for Eliana. “Surely you must miss some of the things that the city can provide?”

Dr. Verda thought for a few seconds before answering. “Convenience stores,” he snapped his fingers. “Can’t find more of that except in the city. In this town, most of the shop is already closed before 8 in the evening.”

“That’s a bummer,” Eliana responded. As someone who’s used to patrolling in the night and having convenience stores easily accessible all the time, it’s kind of a letdown to find out this information.

The doctor chuckled a little at that. “Aside from that, I’m good. Wayhaven’s home now.” His eyes falling at the cup of coffee in Officer Friedman’s desk and her stuff in the chair, Dr. Verda inquired, “How long have you been waiting for Detective Kingston now?”

Eliana checked her wristwatch before answering, “Almost 2 hours now, doctor.”

“That must’ve been a surprise for you. Your first day at work was spent waiting for the detective.”

Oh, you have no idea, she thought, but bit back from saying it out loud.

“Although that’s not really unusual in this town. For as long as I’ve worked here, this is the only time we’ve had a murder case. It’s not an exaggeration to say that nothing really that exciting happens in this town,” Dr. Verda continued. “Anyway, let me shoot Detective Kingston a message and inform her of this. It was nice meeting you, Detective Langford.”

“Thanks, Dr. Verda. Nice to meet you too.”

Dr. Verda waved a little before going back to the pantry to get his coffee. The man gave a final nod before returning to his laboratory.

At least he seems nice, Eliana thought as she sat back down on the stool, resuming her wait for the town’s detective.

At the Station

10:10

Ellara checks her time, suddenly realizing just how long it took her to arrive at the station. The traffic was heavier than usual and she's probably making a bad impression at the new detective for being so late. Her eyes go to the drink and bread in her hand before she pushes the doors open. At least I have my lunch with me already.

Turning around, she first saw Douglas tensely sitting on his station. 

"Glad you aren't using your phone today, Officer Friedman," she says genuinely happy at the younger's sudden change today. 

"Detective! I'm glad you're already here." Douglas greeted, his voice laced with something aside from his usual enthusiasm. Elle can't quite figure it out but she dismissed it just as her eyes landed on the woman sitting on the chair facing the younger's desk. 

 Eliana's ears instantly perked up, hearing Officer Friedman addressing the woman who had just entered the precinct as "Detective". Finally, she thought. I was beginning to wonder if she'll ever show up.

 "I see you have a complainant, huh?" She asks, pretending not to know who the woman is. The stranger suddenly stands, eyes darting at her way with an eyebrow raised. "Hello Detective Kingston, Wayhaven PD. How can we help you, ma'am?" Ellara says with a smile. She holds herself back from laughing just to see how the other would react.

"Detective Kingston, this is Detective Langford. Wayhaven's additional detective," The young officer intercepts gesturing to the woman in front.

Is she messing with me? Eliana's right eyebrow remained cocked, but she decided to drop the matter for now. Introductions must come first, so she can finally start working.

Standing up to her full height, Eliana cleared up the snark that was bubbling in the back of her throat, strode forward and extended her hand. "You must be Detective Ellara Kingston. Detective Eliana Langford of Metropolis Police Department. My superiors said I was to be transferred here for the time being." She inspected the other detective with a scrutinizing gaze, surprised that she's a lot smaller than she imagined. Her eyes, the same color as her’s - hazel - is filled with amusement and curiosity. Her light brown hair is done up on a ponytail. Detective Langford made a quick scan at other detective's clothes, wondering how she'll be able to run and pursue a perp in those shoes. She noted that Detective Kingston is wearing platform boots with matching tweed coordinates. I thought I was the one who came from the city here. Why does she look like she's up for a picnic or something? Her eyes stopped for a moment at the tea and croissant in Detective Kingston's hand. Well, it looks like there's the reason she took so goddamn long to return here.

Ellara watched as the other woman's eyes scanned her from her feet up to the top of her head, smiling despite the nervous rattling in her heart right now. The latter is towering over her, and Elle would easily cower upon the sight of her if she didn't know the woman yet. And there's also a weird feeling inside her, a feeling she can't describe with words.

How can someone look so intimidating and not feel like it?

Ellara shrugs her thoughts, focusing her mind back into the present. Her smile never left her face even when Detective Langford had been looking at her with so much disdain and confusion in her face. It makes her want to play with the latter more.

"Yes, that's me. I'm Ellara Kingston, but you can call me Elle, everyone does! However, detective...? There must be a mix up," Ellara says, tone light but with confusion laced with it as well. She extends her arms to shake the latter's but her smile turns into a frown.. "Captain Sung would've told me about you being transferred here otherwise.

Eliana is confused about the look Detective Kingston is giving her. Sure, there's the familiar sense of someone being intimidated with her. But there's something else too, something she can't quite put a finger into yet.

Focusing instead on the situation at hand, her right eyebrow returned back to its cocked state, her lips thinning into a straight line. "I'd prefer to stick with Detective Kingston, if that's alright with you. We're professional co-workers and that's more fitting, I think." She paused for a moment and continued, "Can you help point me to where your captain's office is? Or his current whereabouts right now? I'd like to speak to him personally." She had already slung her bag back to her shoulders, and is now in the process of hooking her helmet in her arm.

Ellara's eyes widen at the sudden mention of the captain and the detective's actions, making her raise her hand in the air a little, "No, you can't. He's playing golf with the mayor," she says. "Also, I was just kidding. I received the memo a few minutes ago." Ellara once again smiles and shrugs.

"I see," Eliana said simply. Truth be told, her patience has already worn thin. But she knows she can't repeat what she did with Officer Friedman earlier. For one, Eliana's afraid that if she suddenly pulls with that much force at the smaller woman, she might break apart. And second, she doesn't want to have a misdemeanor case in this town, especially if it's against her co-workers. No, it's not worth staining her spotless record over Detective Kingston's joke.

I'm going to drop this for now, but mark my words, I'm gonna be the one laughing next time.

"Welcome to Wayhaven PD, Detective Langford!" Ellara says loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the precinct– basically just Douglas, and a few other officers.

The people greet their new member just like how they do every time. Enthusiastic, and with joy. Everyone here treats each other as family, and she hopes that the detective will feel the same. Though it would probably take the latter some time to adjust as she just nods at all the greetings.

A person of a few words, huh?

Ellara decided that she probably had extended the welcome greeting too much so she gets Eliana's attention back.

"Come, I'll show you the office."

The taller detective followed Detective Kingston to the office wordlessly after accepting the greetings and welcomes of the other police officers with a simple nod of her head.

She watched as the smaller detective opened the door to a locked room, revealing a small office. Oh great, the bathroom in my apartment in the city is bigger than this office. The room has just enough space to fit a file cabinet, a desk, and a simple two-person sofa. Eliana's eyes did one full sweep across the room and landed on the woman in front of her, her face devoid of any reaction.

"So, this is it! I'm sorry I know it must be smaller than what you're used to, having worked in the big city," Detective Kingston said apologetically.

"No worries. It's alright. It could be a lot worse." 

"Well, good! Because we're supposed to share this office. We just need to find you a desk and another file cabinet and then voilà!" Ellara exclaimed with that bright smile of hers.

Well, fuck me. I spoke too soon.

It doesn't matter. There's a case. We should focus on that.

"I see," Eliana said again. She feels like this will not be the last time that she'll say that phrase in this town. In many ways, this small, quiet town is a lot weirder than the city. She knows that there will be more things to come that she'll just be forced to accept and agree, whether she wants to or not.

Placing down her things on the sofa, Eliana crossed her arms to her chest and turned to the smaller detective, who was also placing down her things at her desk. "Detective Kingston, I heard that there's been a murder. Can I ask you what details we currently have on that?" Eliana straightforwardly asked. She had always hated people who beat around the bush.

"Oh right! I was meaning to talk to you about that," Ellara replies just as she sits on her chair. Smile ceasing at the obvious straightforwardness of the woman. I haven't even eaten my lunch yet, poor foodies. "The victim is an unidentified tall, blonde woman who has unusual scratch wounds. Her cause of death is still unknown but I'm pretty sure that she's not from around here. Other than that, i'm afraid we don't have much information yet..."

Yes, useless information. I myself don't know where to lead with this. Kicking the thoughts away after a sip from her tea, she continued speaking.

"The statement from the witnesses will be reported later, and I'm actually about to head to the lab to know more about her." She stops, searching for a reaction on Eliana's face but the latter remains expressionless. "You should come with me so we can hear about it together. Oh, maybe I should give you a tour, too?" Ellara smiles, her eyes twinkling at her own suggestion.

Fuck, we haven't got even a small lead yet.

"Of course, Detective," Eliana answered, internally wondering what else she hadn't seen from the precinct aside from the inside of Dr. Verda's lab. Her eyes have already looked at every side of the station when she was waiting for Detective Kingston earlier, but she decided not to say anything for now. She needs to establish rapport if she's to work with the smaller detective. "Why don't you take the lead?"

Smiling at Eliana's suggestion, Detective Kingston stood up from her chair, her tea and croissant still in her hand. "Follow me, Detective Langford."

It took them less than 5 minutes to have the full tour around the precinct. Ellara introduced the new detective to some of the officers around. There's really not much to see, but I already knew that. God, this is gonna be a long reassignment, Eliana sighed to herself.

"Well, this is our last stop. The precinct's lab," Detective Kingston said with a flourish. "You've met Dr. Verda earlier, right?"

 Yes. Officer Friedman introduced us."

"Douglas?!" Detective Kingston exclaimed. "Oh, well, that's good. At least he's taking his job seriously."

Eliana had to bite back a snicker from escaping her lips from that comment.

"Let's go see what Verda has to say," Detective Kingston declared. She shoved the remaining croissant in her mouth and swiped some of the crumbs away from her clothes before bumping the heavy door of the doctor's lab with one hip. She didn't even bother to stop and take a look at the No Food or Drink Inside sign beside the door, her cup of tea still clutched in her hand.

Sighing at the other detective's blatant disregard for rules, Eliana shook her head and followed Detective Kingston inside the chilly lab.

Inside the Laboratory

10:30

The white-tiled walls greeted the two of them just as they stepped into the lab. It was a clean room with only the silver machines at the edges completing the ensemble. They saw Verda sitting on his metal desk at the corner of the room.

"Hey, Verda." Ellara greets brightly, and with a smile. The doctor turns to greet her back with a nod before a voice cuts through their little interaction.

"I don't know how you work down here." Eliana says seeing how the doctor didn't even have his gloves on, a cup of drink is noticeable sitting on the table beside him.

"It's the first time I actually got to work, Detective Langford." The doctor turns to look at her and grin.

"I thought you're not supposed to bring drinks in here?" Eliana says, the careless disregard to the rules getting into her like a whiplash.

"It's a habit I picked up working from the city," He answers, tone bright and all. "You are one of the good-natured detectives from the city then?"

"Not really, no," Eliana snickers and shrugs, making the doctor grin.

Ellara watched the interaction, feeling glad that the detective is at least making conversation with their pathologist. Must be because they are both from the city?

A few seconds of quiet descended upon them before Ellara decided to break it, just as her eyes landed on the body covered by a white sheet on a table.

"You haven't started the autopsy yet?" She asks, walking towards the body. 

The doctor shakes his head, "No, but..." he pauses and purses his lips, "I found something you might need." He spins around and lifts an evidence bag from a nearby counter.

"You found her phone! They couldn't see it at the scene," she says, getting the bag from his hand.

"It was in her boot."

The three of them looked down at the woman, her skin now a grey-white, her lips so pale that they aren't even noticeable right now.

"We really need to find her identity-" the detectives said in unison. Their heads turned, eyes meeting each other. Both surprised at having said the same thing at the same time. 

"...so we can inform her family."

"...so we can find her killer." 

Ellara and Eliana continued respectively, earning confused looks from the pathologist that stands in front of them. 

"Well, I'm glad you care more about your people, Detective Kingston. At least more than some detectives from the city." Verda says, throwing a quick glance at Eli. "But you're both right. Finding her identity must be the first step." 

Ellara half smiles at the compliment, appreciating it despite not knowing if she deserves to be given the praise while Eliana just let the comment fly by her.

"There's not much I can tell you as of the moment." Verda continues. "Though the bruises in her wrists and ankles are noticeable."

"She was tied down?" Eliana joins the conversation. 

"So it would seem..." he answered, voice trailing off at the obvious sympathy for the woman. 

Ellara tightens her hold on the phone as she opens it through the evidence bag. The screen opened and she felt relief when she saw that it wasn't locked by any password. Flicking through it and opening her contacts, she didn't see much aside from the victim's family, workmates, and a few friends. Checking the logs and messages, she noticed that there weren't much in there too. 

"She obviously didn't go out much." Verda says as he is glancing through the phone, too. 

"Poor girl," Ellara says as she continues to explore the victim's phone, ending up in her gallery. "She must've been less of a target if she weren't so isolated." 

"Maybe," Verda says with a shrug, "But that might have not been why she was targeted." 

"I agree." Eliana chirps. 

The quiet once again fills the room as Ellara swipes through the photos. Until one particular picture catches her attention. The photo was blurred, but thanks to the stained walls and the crack metal beams, she was able to recognize the place, "This was the last photo she took. It's from the Farris Warehouse at the edge of the town." 

"You think she managed to capture where she was murdered?" 

"Possibly." 

"Will you go to the warehouse then?" Verda asked. 

"I will. After I finished up the paper works of course," Ellara says and with a smile once again. 

"Instead of going alone, how about you bring Detective Langford along then? Must be good for her to be familiarized as early as now." Verda suggested. 

"I was just about to ask her," Ellara grins and turns to the new detective, "Are you up for an adventure?"

Eliana's right eyebrow quirked up again at Detective Kingston's choice of words. "Sure, sounds good," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Are you two gonna be alright?" Verda asks suddenly.

"We've got our radio if we need backup, and Tina also patrolled there the other day. It's impossible that there's still a deranged murderer hanging in there."

The doctor frowns in concern. "Be careful. Both of you please."

"You worried about us, Verda?" Ellara asks with a teasing tone, throwing in a smirk at the pathologist's way.

"You are about the best person I've worked for, and besides, Detective Langford here has been much a delight," he replies with a smile. "I don't fancy getting used to someone else."

Eliana gave a nod at the doctor's way and mumbled a small "Thanks," that didn't go unnoticed.

Ellara's laughter echoes in the room as she makes her way out of the lab, making sure that Eliana is following closely behind. For the first time that day, Ellara actually felt alright.

Inside the Station 

10:45

Being out of the lab felt like a reward somehow as the cold Ellara was feeling dissipated into thin air. She looks back making sure that Eliana was able to follow along as she made her way back into the office again.

Eliana looks back up just as Ellara brings her eyes back to the front. Why is this precinct so quiet and boring? She thinks to herself, her mind unconsciously wandering back into her workplace before. Back home, she never had a down time during work hours. There's always a criminal to arrest, and a crime to solve. The fact that everything around here is moving so slow is making her feel cooped up and restless. Surely, her past captain had good intentions moving her here. Otherwise, why would he do that? It would be dumb to send off the youngest most skillful detective away.

Whatever the reason is, fuck it. I deserve to be somewhere more developed than this town. Won't exactly get any recognition, working here. Well, maybe if they can solve the case first. 

"I hope you've been settling well so far, Detective Langford," Ellara says with a smile, once again taking the seat behind her desk as the latter sits herself on the couch.

"I am," Eliana replies nonchalantly, fishing her phone out of her pocket and typing in the little information they have so far.

"So…" she heard Ellara speak from the far end of the room. “What's-" the woman was about to ask something when the door opened.

"Good afternoon, detectives." Captain Sung stands in front of the door, giving Elle a glance for greeting before he turns into the new detective and approaches her. "Detective Langford, I assume?"

Eliana stood from her seat and strode forwards, extending her arm in greeting. "Yes, that's right. Pleasure to meet you." After a quick scan at the man's posture and clothing, Eliana continued. "And you must be Captain Sung?"

The captain just nodded in affirmation, already busy fetching something from his pocket. "I'm just here to give you your badge and gun while you're working here in our town and ask how you're settling here?"

Eliana checked the handgun and was surprised to see it in good condition. Afterwards, she clipped her badge in her belt and the gun to her holster and answered with a simple, "Fine, so far," before crossing her arms across her chest again.

"Well, that's good. According to the Mayor, another desk set, and a cabinet will arrive later this evening to accommodate Detective Langford for the time being." Captain Sung then turns to Ellara. "I can see that you've been letting her catch up immediately. Nice work, Detective Kingston."

"Thanks, Captain. Detective Langford has been cooperative." Ellara throws a smile at Eliana's way, making the other's eyebrow raise.

After a short conversation between the people in the office, Captain Sung bid the two detectives farewell before walking out of the police station, telling them to work with and help each other to solve the murder case.

"Now that's out of the way, what say you we decrease some of this paperwork that needs filing, Detective Langford?" Ellara said with a charming smile, hoping that the taller detective is at least a little more patient than her in paper works.

[fortune-fool02]

Odd Friends

Angel Jonathan Joestar x Demon Robert E.O Speedwagon

Demon/Angel AU

Modern AU

This is an idea I got and I hope you all enjoy it! 

Please enjoy! 

***

For as long as time itself has existed and further than that, there had always been light and darkness. Warmth and cold. Good and evil. Heaven and Hell. Humans had once believed them to be as real as the ground they walked upon and the water they drunk though as the centuries passed, their faith and hope wandered away and turned to science for answers they sought. And yet both were true, both were real and often engaged in battles that were invisible to humans, allowing them to go about their lives completely oblivious to the two forces clashing against one another. Even when they looked at them straight in the eye.

Only a handful of angels travelled to Earth, and that was only for a short time as they preferred to observe the humans from afar. Behind a one-way window that they could never see. It was mostly demons who made more frequent travels to Earth to rain their mischief and misfortune upon any poor soul unfortunate enough to cross one. Jonathan was one of the few angels who travelled to Earth more often than the others did, as he preferred to wander and explore the new eras and times in person. He had always been more curious and amazed of humans and their creations than the other angels. It wasn't that hard to blend in, all he had to do was conceal his wings and dress differently though the way his eyes sparkled with such vibrancy and the kindness of his heart was something he could never hide, and he didn't want to. He had even bought himself a lovely house to stay in.

Soft hums were made as the angel stirred the mixture of milk, water, sugar and tea together, making sure it was properly done before setting the spoon in the sink and taking the cup. The sweet aroma of the tea was soothing to him, they didn't have anything like this in Heaven, another reason he also loved Earth so much. Angels may not require to consume food nor water but he had grown to enjoy it.

As he took a sip, a soft sound caught his attention. A golden furred cat sat on the windowsill outside, its bright golden eyes locked solely on Jonathan as it meowed again, turning its head and motioning to the door. Jonathan chuckled softly, setting his cup down and going to the door, opening it and allowing the cat inside.

"Should I just have a cat flap installed for you?" The cat gave a purr sound as it passed him and made its way into the kitchen. No sooner had it done so, the feline's body began to change and alter. Growing in size rapidly as the fur faded to skin, the tail and ears vanishing as long, golden locks fell past his shoulders. Somewhat formal yet casual clothing covered his body as he stretched a little, turning to the dark-haired angel with a smile. His eyes remaining the same with their golden hue that seemed to have a light mix of orange and red too, more like the shades of fire, and their slitted pupils.

"Nah, I like havin' you open the door for me. Makes me feel special." Speedwagon spoke, flashing the angel a smile as he did.

Many would frown upon their friendship, an angel and a demon as friends was completely blasphemy and would be punished with execution for the pair of them. Still, they were both careful with one another and made sure that they had reasons for such things, mainly that they were keeping an eye on the other. And, at first, that was true but over the centuries the two grew close to one another. Speedwagon hadn't caused destruction or harm to humanity beside bits of inconvenience, stealing and playful mischief, nothing worthy of severe punishment. As for Jonathan, he wasn't as strict and uptight as the rest of the angels in Speedwagon's eyes, if anything, he was what other angels should have been like. Rather than killing a demon upon seeing them, he let Speedwagon explain himself. Saying that it would be wrong of him to pass judgement on him for something that wasn't even his fault.

And ever since, the two became friends.  Jonathan made Speedwagon some tea as well and the two sat together, "You redecorated?" he asked and the angel nodded, smiling as he did.

"Yes, I'm glad you noticed. I changed the carpet because the last one was quite old and I really liked the colour of this one, and it also matches the new curtains I bought." As he spoke, he got up and showed the demon, motioning to the new carpet and the curtains. It was quite funny to see something like an angel like Jonathan being so excited and happy over something as simple as new curtains and carpet; well, Speedwagon found it adorable. Everything about the angel was adorable, ranging from his kind-heartedness to the way his head would tilt a little when curious and happy. The softness of his hair that would put clouds to shame, those sparkling eyes that radiated with light and warmth, unjudgemental and open, something that the demon cherished.

How could he have been so lucky to cross paths with this angel? What did he do to deserve such a blessing? Around him, he didn't feel shunned nor the need to stand his ground, he felt relaxed and calm, all the stress and weight lifted high off his body and thrown so far away it was nothing to him. It was like...it was like feeling the light of the sun for the first time, its soft and gentle warmth that washed away the cold. They often said that demons couldn't appreciate such things but Speedwagon could easily prove that false -in his case, at least.

"-and then I finally finished arranging the books." The angel's words pulled the demon back to reality, standing beside the large bookcase packed with all types of books both old and new. The blonde smiled back,

"I think you've done good. The place is nice." That earned more of his smile as he sat back down beside Speedwagon. He was right, the place was cosy to live in for anyone, it was even big enough for another to stay in. The thought of that sparked something in the demon but it was quickly snuffed out before it had a chance to grow; Jonathan was an angel, and no matter how far their friendship was he wouldn't have a demon like Speedwagon move in with him. Why would he? Why would he have someone damned like him who cannot even bring himself to be a decent demon? A heaviness pulled down in him at these thoughts, shooing away any joy he felt a few moments ago. This didn't go unnoticed.

"Speedwagon, is something troubling you?" The demon sighed and shook his head but that didn't fool him. Moving to sit closer to his friend, Jonathan gave him a concerned look, "Please, tell me what it is." Soft words coated with an equally soft warmth, concerned and worried for his friend. Sighing, the demon spoke.

"Why're you friends with me?" He asked, "You're an angel, you're supposed to hate me and my kind, supposed to 'smite with the power of Holy Righteousness' but you don't. Why?" It just didn't make sense, and this isn't the first time such questions have pestered Speedwagon. It just...it didn't make sense. At this, the angel simply gave him a warm smile that shot right through him, his hand coming up to rest on the blonde's shoulder with a comforting touch.

"Speedwagon. You are not just a demon to me, you are special. You're unique in a way I cannot explain. I just...I find myself drawn to you. Your boldness, your playfulness and your strength, everything about you draws me in." Each word he spoke came straight from his heart and out his lips, no lies nor deception in them. "I'm not sure if it could be some kind of temptation you're doing and, if I am being truly honest, I wouldn't mind being tempted by you." His words flooded through Speedwagon's being like a rive bursting its banks and letting it all flow, his mind trying to process this and make sure he heard him correctly and it wasn't some kind of trick he wanted to hear.

"...you what?" was all he could get out of himself. Jonathan chuckled softly at this response, before he repeated what he said.

"I wouldn't mind being tempted by you, Speedwagon. I care about you." There was a moment of silence between the two as those words floated around them like a leaf on a lake. For a moment, Jonathan feared he spoke wrongly, that Speedwagon didn't want to hear such things but that was silenced when Speedwagon suddenly leaned forward, cupping Jonathan's face and kissed him. Shocked by this, he remained still as he was kissed, a mix of things coursed through him. Confusion, uncertainty, hesitation, joy. Speedwagon pulled away after realising what he was doing,

"Oh shit, I-I'm sorry, JoJo." He screwed up, didn't he? Demons don't just go about kissing angels like that, they forbid stuff like that! Damnit!

"No, don't be." Speedwagon looked at him, confusion painting his face, "I...I liked it." Again, that little flicker sparked up within him at Jonathan's words. He liked it? He didn't hate Speedwagon for his action? A smile lifted the demon's lips at this, his flame hue eyes glowing softly.

"You do?" The angel nodded, one hand slowly lifting up and gently resting on Speedwagon's cheek, his thumb softly brushing against the scar on his face. The action was gentle, careful, affectionate. Something Speedwagon hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"May...May I kiss you?" He asked the demon, and Speedwagon could hardly believe that this was truly happening. But the moment he felt Jonathan's lips press against his, he knew this was no delusion nor trick. This was real. He kissed back, refusing to just sit there and let Jonathan do all the work. His arms slithered around Jonathan's neck, pulling him closer as they kissed, pouring as much affection as they could into the kiss. At this moment, Jonathan didn't care if this would possibly lead to his damnation, what mattered was that he was here with Speedwagon. 

That was what mattered to him.

[war--lords]

Consider this: Magnet, but it going both ways with MC and her suitor. Everyone is staring at these pair of hot damn 'are they models or something someone catch me as I swoon' but they're both so 'secretly-in-love-with-each-other-but-everyone-can-see-it-so-what's-the-truth' that they never realize it? Fangirls and fanboys are instantly turned away because damn how could you even think to contest with MC/Suitor? THEY'RE NOT OFFICIAL BUT DAMNIT SOMEONE MAKE THESE TWO KISS ALREADY--

Okay so brownie points to you, anon, because this is the exact scenario I pictured when I put Magnet on the trope list.

(This turned out differently but I hope you can still enjoy it!)

Masamune x Fem!Reader

High School AU

A knock on the door interrupts you while you read yet another error-riddled report, a job far too annoying to be dealt with in the early morning before homeroom.

“Come in,” you call, fiddling with your pen.

“Senpai,” a scrawny young man enters the room with a look on his face that can only be interpreted as guilty, “I’m so sorry I’m late, I wasn’t aware that—”

You stand up from your seat, ushering him to come in as he stumbles upon his words. You close the door as you listen, picking up stuff like “first day” and “sophomore” and, a popular one, “sorry”. Gesturing to a desk on the left of yours, facing the other side of the room, you fix him a cup of water from the drinks station.

“Calm down,” you say as soon as it’s clear that he has no plans of stopping. “You’re not late, you’re early.”

That seems to stun him. You offer him the cup, which just slips into his hands like he’s not fully aware of it. He’s no longer catching his breath.

“—but you’re already here?”

“I come early on days when there’s a lot of work—it’s been a couple of weeks since the start of the new school year, which means there’s always something for me to do.”

“I see,” he answers, still sounding far-away.

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“Y-Yes, uh, I’m sorry for bursting in like that!”

“It’s okay. Your name?”

“Sasaki! Sasaki Fumio. I’m the new council member—the Vice President was the one who recruited me.”

“Ranmaru did?” You nod receptively. “I must’ve been unavailable at the time. Well, make yourself comfortable. The previous treasurer is going to be here anytime soon for the handover.”

“Thank you, kaichou!” Sasaki bows deeply, and you shoot him a symphatetic smile, somehow hoping that he’ll catch your unspoken message: you don’t have to be so formal.

As the sophomore familiarizes himself with his new workspace, you return to the report you were reading, struggling to figure out where you left off. At the back of your mind you wonder why the student council’s office in this academy is at least half of the size of its faculty office.

Then you glance at the mountain of folders to your right—ah.

That’s because there’s so much work for you to do.

♥️ ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ 

Ranmaru might appear as a soft, effeminate boy that laughs at all your jokes, but he can be quite ruthless while doing his job. Right now he’s barraging you with a series of requests from the student body.

“The tea ceremony club asks for your permission to employ a mascot for their recruitment drive.”

“In what form and how big?” You try not to scrunch your eyebrows at the possibilities in the answers, minding your steps as you walk through the hallway from the council office to this crime scene Ranmaru is supposed to brief you.

“Tea bowl,” there’s an unsure pause as Ranmaru matches his pace to yours, walking beside you but looking straight ahead, “…big.”

“Give them the go ahead but restrict their movements to outside the school building.”

“Morning, kaichou!”

“Morning!” You reply back to whoever it was, but never stopping in your tracks, leaving behind a trail of giggles from a bunch of students.

“There’s dispute between the male and female volleyball teams about practice grounds that they’d like you to mediate.”

“What about the faculty advisor?”

“Nakajima-sensei is on paternity leave and won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Good for him, but I think we need to check if the club needs a sub for that. But I’ll mediate.”

“I’ll let them know.”

“Also, don’t you think it would be fun if they can just play against each other to settle the debate?”

Ranmaru laughs—he always has a way to make you feel good about yourself without being dishonest in the very least. “That way we can attract an audience to come and watch.”

“And we sell the tickets?”

“It’ll be nice to have more money for our own recruitment drive,” Ranmaru shrugs, playing along. The two of you arrive just outside the shoe lockers by the school entrance, and in front of you is a sea of students, walking your way, trying to get to class. 

“Why is it so crowded here?”

Ranmaru points ahead to the source—a recruitment drive right in the middle of the paved path leading towards the building. There’s a makeshift booth and a queueing crowd. You can’t tell from which club. The only way is to move closer.

Ranmaru leads you towards the front where you can see a sign. Once you’re on the other side of it, you see that it reads

A hug and a kiss for new members! ♥️

“It’s home ec,” Ranmaru supplies, sheepishly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He studies your face as you sigh.

“It’s always home ec.”

You dread the steps you need to take to get to the point of the problem, even with your extremely capable second-in-command having your back. The truth is that the home economics club president has a way of addressing you in ways that make you forget yourself and the responsibilities of your position.

Though it might be true that at the end of the day you both are nobody but regular people, you’d rather not venture into the dangerous things he might rope you in.

“Always the crowd-pleaser, aren’t we, Date-kun?”

The tall form standing in front of the booth takes notice of you, his good eye immediately zeroing in on you.

“If it isn’t our very own student council president,” he says lightheartedly. “Did you finally decide to join home ec?” 

“Unfortunately no,” you say, shrugging. There’s nothing particularly cold or passive-aggressive about your exchange with Date Masamune—it’s almost routine. Dare you say, though, it’s almost… fun.

“Too bad. There’s no next year, you know, because we’re graduating and all.”

“Why are you selling your body for the love of strangers, Date-kun?”

He barks out a laugh, head thrown back and hand cupped against his mouth to muffle the sound. The other home ec members are laughing, too. Clearly he’s taken aback. He sighs, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, while you and Ranmaru look on, amused.

“Sorry, I certainly didn’t see that coming,” he says, calming down. “But hey, the more the merrier, right? Aren’t you proud of seeing the academy hosting such a popular club?”

“I would, if only the circumstances aren’t as seedy as this,” you sigh, once again inspecting the a hug and a kiss sign, painted in scandalous hot pink. Not appropriate for extracurricular activity. The queue now looks absolutely embarrassed, the many girls visibly squirming, covering their faces, while the boys feigns interest in the beautiful blue sky above.

“Why even go this far?”

“Well, you know how I’m never satisfied no matter how successful the club has become?” He grins. “That’s why.”

“I doubt you’ll successfully obtain quality leads this way. They’re primary interest is certainly not your cooking courses.”

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes and you automatically feel a physical response: your feet, planted firmer on the ground as if scared that he’s going to sweep you away. A foolish fear, you note, but one that’s entirely possible. There’s no telling what he’s going to do next. You’re made aware of the heart beating in your chest.

“Oh-ho,” he smirks, and circles you once, like a predator around prey. “What are you suggesting, kaichou? That the home ec club is a secret sex den?”

He whispers the last part only for your ears to hear, but even without knowing his exact words Ranmaru reacts, taking a step forward. You stop him with a look. You can handle this.

“You’re not even blushing,” Masamune says, almost in disdain, but now he’s a little close, peering into your face, searching. From your peripheral you see the crowd finally dispersing, not wanting to be caught up in trouble.

“That’s because I’m considering it a possibility.”

He laughs again, softer this time. There’s a smoldering heat rolling off of him, whether it’s his presence or his actual body heat, you can’t tell, but you’re definitely feeling it. You acknowledge this uncomfortable tension, but force away the thought that it might be sexually charged. Of course, Date Masamune is one of the most popular and attractive students in the academy. But that’s that—it’s natural for people to be physically attracted to others. Nothing more.

Right?

“You just lost me a lot of members,” he says, not even looking around him. He keeps staring at you.

“For good reason. Your tactics can be reported to the faculty as indecency and the principal will definitely be involved,” you’re not actually definitely sure about the principal bit, they could always just let him off with a warning since he’s quite a star student in his own way, but no mind. The truth isn’t always a good weapon for intimidation.

“It’s all completely consensual.”

“I understand that part,” you rebuke, sounding harsher than before. Of course it’s consensual—they have full liberty, partaking in the queue. “Consensual doesn’t mean appropriate for school grounds. At least not in our culture.”

He ruffles his hair. He hates the feeling he gets when you scold him for real, as if you’re disappointed in him somehow.

“I want you to know that it’s all in good fun.”

“I’m sure it is,” you soften a little. He’s a boy on the cusp of being a young adult. You understand because you’re just as human. “I’m merely doing my job. And part of my job here is to tell you what to do next.”

He lets out a dejected sigh. “Fire away, ma’am.”

You shoot him a glare at the nickname.

“The home economics club recruitment drive is to be put on hold under the direction of the student council until you’ve submitted a new recruitment drive plan that does not involve hugging or kissing new members, even at their own discretion—and once that’s done, you need to stick to that plan. No more improvisations in the name of good fun.”

“Okay,” he shrugs.

“I’ll even accept the same plan as you’ve previously submitted.”

“Yeah.”

“You better pray that all the chatter about your fun booth doesn’t reach the faculty. If that happens, it’s out of my hands. You do know this, right?”

“Yeah.”

It’s your turn to sigh now, a mix of fatigue and relief. “Plan by the end of today, on my desk. I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay.” I’ll wait for you. Coming from you, that sounds especially nice, he thinks.

“You better stop fooling around, Date-kun. You said it yourself—we’re graduating next year. I’m just saying maybe it’s time for you to take it more seriously.”

There’s something about the way you said it: as solemn as it is severe, that inevitably shakes the one-eyed boy in his core. Out of all his head-butting with you, you’ve never sounded this serious.

He just hopes it isn’t disappointment in your eyes.

You turn around, walking back to the building with Ranmaru following suit, leaving Masamune and a handful of other home ec members standing around the walkway, their booth abandoned and prospective members gone. 

 ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

“Whoa—”

He opens the door to the student council office, only to find you standing right beyond it, ready to head out. You look as startled as he is, taking a few staggered steps back to avoid collision.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yes,” you answer. “I thought you weren’t going to show up.” Again, there’s that discomfort in Masamune’s gut at the thought of you leaving. Did he seem like a person to go against his word like that, just letting you wait for the whole day for something that’s not going to arrive?

The orange sky lights up the room, burning it with orange hues of the sunset. He watches as your silhouette walks back to your desk, the sun stabbing shadows of you on the floor. He follows you and hands you the report. You opt to not take a seat, standing in front of him as you read through the two-pager.

“Looks good,” you say after a few moments. “The same as before.”

“Didn’t want to put my secretary’s work to waste.”

“Wise choice,” you say, offering him a smile as you leave the report on your desk. “Let’s go home. It’s going to be dark soon.”

And as he walks behind you, watching your back as you cross the room, something turns in his mind. There’s a sense of urgency, the kind that he’s not constantly chasing, the kind that is too important to miss. So before you have the chance to reach for the doorknob and walk away, he tugs at your wrist to stop you.

For you, it’s a quick succession of blurred actions, and you find your back pressed against the wall. He’s right in front of you, the tips of his indoor slippers touching yours, and you can feel his breath on your skin. Yours is caught in your throat at the sight of his arresting eye, staring at you with formidable intensity. He’s so close.

Your lips open, and you think you’re going to say something, but your voice fails you.

“You know that thing you told me earlier?” His voice is a rasp, low and secretive, even though it’s just the two of you in a room lit by a setting sun. He senses your silent question.

“You told me that maybe it’s time for me to take things seriously.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply—your wit abandons you, and you fear that any attempt to speak is not going to work. Your throat and lips feel dry.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he slips his arm around your waist, “that there’s one thing I haven’t taken seriously.” His grip is the right amount of firm and gentle. Heat creeps up your cheek, and you’d blame it on the glaring orange sun, but he’s too smart for that.

His other hand very cautiously reaches out for your face, and when they make contact you somehow fight the urge to lean your weight against his touch. You know this feeling, but you dare not give a name to it.

“The way you looked at me this morning makes me think that you think I’m a mistake.” He sees you visibly surprised at that. “I want to prove to you that I’m not.”

You gasp when he presses his body against you, the warm concrete wall behind you letting you feel your own pulse. His nose touches yours and your lips are but an inch apart. He’s waiting.

“I’m,” you swallow, voice slightly cracking, “I’ve been… considering the possibilities.”

You see his eyes light up.   

“And it wasn’t my intention. Earlier, I mean. To make you feel like I’m disappointed in you. It—It’s just something I blurted out.”

His arm around your waist settles you in his grip. He’s getting impatient.

“Let me prove it anyways.”

You can only nod.

He sighs, moving to your jaw to plant a preemptive kiss on your skin, and you shudder when he whispers against it.

“I never noticed how badly I wanted to kiss you.”

Then, with precision and ease, he tilts his head, pressing his lips against your slightly open ones in a deep kiss that knocks your breath away. You instinctively grab his uniform shirt for solace, not trusting that your knees are able to support you. But he’s so snug against you there’s no way you’re going to fall—he’s pursuing you, kiss after kiss, the exchange a series of giving and receiving. You let out a sigh of his name—Masamune, not the usual “Date-kun”—and he feels like he’s losing his mind. His other hand now ventures to the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You take turns nipping and tugging at each other’s lips, yours more coquettish to his boldness. 

“Ngh, ah,” you moan as he slips his tongue in your mouth, just as you think it’s not going to feel any better. There’s a warmth between your legs, one that he anticipates and encourages, because he has his knee there, letting you rest against it. You feel pleasurably faint.

He lets out a guttural noise when he pulls his lips away from yours, as if reluctant to trade the taste of you for air. You hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears and his heavy breaths mingled in with yours.

He catches you licking your lips, now rosy, glistening, and absolutely swollen, and it’s like he crumbles all over again.

“One more,” he sighs, “do you allow it?”

“Yes,” you reply as breathless as he, and he wastes no time kissing you. His lips are noticably more gentle, his tongue taking the time to map you out, his teeth dragging slowly across your lips leisurely. You’re melting against him, powerless against his wiles, and he welcomes it, letting you grip his collar to bring him closer. 

He breathes your name against your mouth and you let out a small whimper—it sounds like music to your ears in a way that you don’t know you needed.

In the waning sunlight, the two of you share one, two, three more kisses in an empty student council office, with him boldly venturing new grounds: your jaw and throat, the skin underneath your school uniform. His knee between your legs, the sensation that he leaves after pulling away from what surely will become a love bite. By the end of it, the two of you are disheveled and the sky is half-indigo. For a moment, nobody says a thing for fear of breaking the spell.

“Let me walk you home,” he finally says, and you’re delighted to find that the spell isn’t broken.

[fallinnflower]

in absentia

jackson x reader (hermes!au, angst)

word count: 5,638

a/n: i’d like to thank @softseunies​​ for making this happen. thanks for being my ultimate cheerleader as i stumbled through writing this fic, mwah~

When you first meet Jackson, he’s running. You notice him at once — not only because he’s extremely attractive — because you run this same route everyday, and you’ve never seen him before. And this isn’t a heavily-populated area, so your curiosity is immediately piqued.

But soon, you’re not just seeing him when you’re running, you’re seeing him when you’re out for coffee, or at the grocery store, or on your way to work. He’s everywhere, and you have no clue who he is!

The next Saturday morning, he’s out running again, and you just can’t help yourself. You have to talk to him, and it feels like it’s now or never.

He slows his pace as he hears you approaching, lagging behind until you can fall into step beside him.

“Hey,” you greet, trying to ignore the disarming smile he shoots your way because you don’t really want to fall flat on your face in front of him.

“I couldn’t help but notice you around town. Are you new?” He lets out a breathy laugh, the sunlight glistening off his sweat-covered skin; normally, you think you’d be disgusted, but you can’t help but find him handsome.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m Jackson, it’s nice to meet you." He stops running just to shake your hand, and in the moment it takes for you to notice that and turn around, you can already feel yourself falling. His hand is warm, slightly calloused, and fits perfectly against yours. You can’t help but smile; somehow, just being near him, you feel energized. 

“You, too.”

“Wanna grab coffee sometime?” He asks, beaming at you. And, well, how could you say no?

You leave the park with his number in your phone, and an unexpected spring in your step.

Jackson had noticed you long before you’d noticed him. In fact, he’d been living in the area a little longer than you thought he had, and only because he’d taken such care to scope the area out before moving in. He had to be sure there wouldn’t be trouble for him here, and that his contact with Olympus wouldn’t be obstructed in any way. 

He’d first noticed you exiting a coffee shop. The look on your face was so blissful as you took a sip of your drink that he had to go in and try it for himself. 

And just like that, he was hooked — on you and the coffee. 

It wasn’t all about getting to know you at first. After all, he still needed to know the area he’d be living in! But then he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he couldn’t remember the last time a mortal had made him feel the way he did when he looked at you. 

So he just happened to take his daily runs on the same path as you, when he could have chosen any other place. And just happened to be taking you to your favorite coffee shop on your first date.

Yes, he intended it to be a date. He was hoping you would feel the same way by the end of it — and not just because of his godly charm. He was, after all, a supernatural being; if he wanted you, he could have you, but he had better morals than Zeus at least. Besides, it had been a long time since he’d properly flirted with and gotten to know someone — and he decided he wanted to take his time with you.

(Or, well, as much as he could stand to. He had speed built into him, adrenaline always coursing through his veins. Slow, for him, was probably not the same as slow for you.)

“So,” he says, sitting across from you in a corner table. The sun hits you just right, casting a golden halo around your head, and Jackson leans onto his elbows on the table, propping his chin in his hands as he admires you. “You’ve seen me around?” At his teasing, you startle and it takes a few coughs for you to get your bearings again. 

“I, um— yeah. At the park, and stuff.”

“And stuff?” He repeats, raising one eyebrow. As he watches the expression on your face shift from embarrassment to playful irritation, realizing what he’s getting at, Jackson feels his heart skip a beat. He wishes he could keep this moment in the forefront of his mind forever, the pout on your lips so enticing he can’t help but want to kiss you. It’s shocking to him that he’s already so invested, so lost in your eyes. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you reply, a playful twinkle in your eye. 

He realizes, right then and there, you might be more bewitching and dangerous than Aphrodite herself (though he’d never say such a thing in her presence), and he’s in real trouble. And he doesn’t mind that one bit. What’s life without a little danger?

Jackson is the perfect gentleman. He’s always considerate, holding the door open for you and insisting on paying; showing up early, usually with flowers; memorizing your favorite drink at your favorite cafe within the first handful of dates. It’s incredible, really — you’d thought he was just your average charmer at first, but as you get to know him you realize how genuine his charm actually is. Although he’s certainly handsome and playful, the real charm of him lies below the surface in the type of person he is.

Which is why, when he suddenly stops replying to your texts one day when you’re supposed to have a date, it feels very out of character. Jackson is usually the type to be up before dawn, messaging you just as early with pictures of a cute dog he encountered on his run or just asking if you’re ready for your date — he’s never once been late, and you never imagined he would be the type to stand you up without any reason.

And yet, when the time he’s supposed to pick you up comes around, there’s no sign of him. Your texts remain unanswered, calls going to voicemail, and at first you’re more worried than upset. You turn on the news, wondering if there’s been some kind of major accident, but there’s nothing of note that comes up on the traffic report. Slowly, your anxiety turns to aggravation, which eventually fades into self-pity. By the time three hours have passed, you can’t find a reason to keep your makeup on — so you shuffle miserably to the bathroom and wipe away the work you’d done hours before, and then hop in the shower because you can feel the tears coming on and refuse to just sit around crying on the couch. It’s more cathartic to cry in the shower, anyways. 

You continue your pity party by slipping into an Eeyore onesie your friend bought you as a gag gift last year, yanking up the hood for maximum warmth as you make yourself a cup of tea and begin raiding your snack shelf for anything and everything self-indulgent. As you lug all these things into your living room, fully prepared to set up camp on the couch for the next few hours, a loud knock sounds at your door. It’s urgent, but not excessively loud, and you slowly make your way to the door and peer through the peephole—

And there’s Jackson, sweat clinging to his brow, panting like he just finished a marathon. You hate that you can’t even manage to scowl at him when you open the door.

“Y/N!” He greets, looking ecstatic for a moment before the guilt returns to his features, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I’m so, so sorry about today, but I can explain, I promise! But, like, if you never want to see me again, I get it—”

As he rambles, you find yourself stepping aside and opening your door for him. A small smile finds its way onto your face as you interrupt him,

“I’ll hear you out, but only because you look so miserable. Come on.”

You get him a glass of water before settling on the opposite end of the couch from him. Jackson downs half of it in one gulp, thanking you breathlessly before clearing his throat and schooling his expression into one that’s more somber. 

“Okay, I know I said I could explain, but I… it’s going to sound weird, okay?” You furrow your brows in confusion, but nod for him to go on, nonetheless.

“I missed our date and didn’t respond to your messages because I was, um,” he pauses, licks his lips, then continues more softly, “in the underworld. I’m not actually human, I’m, uh, I’m Hermes. The Greek god. You know?”

There aren’t even crickets to fill the silence between you. Jackson stares into your eyes with his earnest, dark ones, and you feel your throat close up a bit. You avert your gaze to hide the tears you can feel welling up.

“Wow,” you scoff, softly. “You know, Jackson, if you didn’t like me you could’ve just said that—”

“I’m serious!” He cries, taking hold of both of your hands. “Just, okay, hold on a second.” Before you can reply, Jackson is pulling his hands away from yours and reaching down to pull off his socks. As you look up at him in confusion, willing yourself to ask him what the hell is going on, you notice that his skin seems to be shimmering slightly and his once dark irises have turned to gold. Without any hesitation, Jackson lifts his leg up, hands clasped behind his knee so his ankle is almost at your eye level.

It’s almost comical, you think. He must be insane, but then you actually look at his ankle in front of you and realize you must be the crazy one.

Because there’s a wing. An honest-to-God, white-feathered wing sprouting out of his ankle on the exterior side. It’s small, but it’s there, and when you tentatively reach out to touch it with the thought that maybe this is just an elaborate prank, it actually flutters.

The next thing you remember is waking up to see Jackson sitting nervously on the floor beside your couch, staring at you intently as he grips tightly onto one of your hands.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he breathes when you finally open your eyes. “Listen, I am so sorry, I’ve never— I didn’t know how to prove it to you but that was really dumb, I’m so sorry—”

“I— that wasn’t a dream?” You squeak, and you notice Jackson’s eyes still have a little gold left in them. It’s answer enough for you, and as you sit up on the couch Jackson gently places a hand against your back, bracing you in case you pass out again. You run a hand through your hair, letting out a long breath. Eventually, you lift your gaze to meet his,

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no cell service in the underworld?” You ask. Relief washes over Jackson’s features, a smile gracing his lips, and neither of you can help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

And that’s how you start dating Jackson, aka Hermes, the messenger of the Greek gods. 

You had been half joking about there being no cell service in the underworld, but it turned out you were right. The results of this were handfuls of missed dates, because Jackson, true to his godly nature, was the type of person who had trouble being patient. Most times he got an assignment from the Big Guys Upstairs and started on his way without even thinking about you or how you might be waiting for him to send you a message. 

You also learned the hard way that time worked differently down there, aka your boyfriend had no concept of it.

It was extremely worrisome at first. More than being frustrated at him disappearing, you were frightened — what if he wasn’t on a supernatural mission but got hit by a car or something? Did he even have emergency contacts? Did he need them?

Dating was confusing, even more so when your boyfriend is a god who sometimes goes radio silent for days at a time. Sometimes you wish there was some Olympian hotline, just so you could call up and ask if he was okay. All you ever wanted, really, was to know that. It didn’t matter to you if he missed dates for something as important as godly work, but was it too much to ask for a text in advance when he got word of a new assignment?

Were you really as insignificant to him as that?

But then Jackson would come home and you’d forgive him with his puppy dog eyes and remind yourself how lucky you were to be with someone like Jackson; not only because he was a god and you were a mortal, but because he was such a doting, perfect boyfriend when he was around. So you pushed any misgivings you had aside for his sake, trying to enjoy all the time you could with him, ignoring how the frustration piled up in the corners of your mind.

It would be wrong to say that Jackson was the only one who had to go away on business from time to time, although you certainly went less often than he did — and your trips always had a general sense of structure. And cell service.

You’d been chosen by your company to go as a representative on a week-long trip to negotiate a contract with a firm in Japan. It was exciting, and quite the opportunity, but it ran you ragged. After spending three hours on a plane and more than that in airports, going through customs and lugging your bags around, you’re more than excited to be back on familiar soil. And even that pales in comparison to the thought of seeing Jackson again. You can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across your features as you imagine running into his arms for the first time in a week — somehow, it feels so much longer than that, but maybe it’s because he was away on his own business until the crack of dawn the morning you left. Those short, meager hours together in bed weren’t nearly enough to get you through a whole business trip. 

The forecast is calling for rain, but thankfully the weather hasn’t turned just yet, although it’s chilly enough to have you longing for your space heater of a boyfriend even more. You pull out your phone to text him that you’re at the departures area, waiting just inside the doors; you know he’ll get concerned if you wait outside.

The message is delivered. Just like the one you sent when your plane finally taxied in over ten minutes ago.

Jackson is the type to respond to messages fast, especially when they’re from you. He’s a little clingy like that, and especially so after you’ve been gone for a while. But as you stand around, watching people cart their luggage out to cars and reunite with their own loved ones, you can’t help but feel increasingly impatient.

Five minutes pass. Then ten. Fifteen. Your phone has been put on low-power mode, sitting at nineteen percent, and you shift the weight of your duffel around on your shoulder to try and ease the ache in your neck. 

In a last ditch effort fueled by irritation, sleep deprivation, and hunger from skipping lunch because everything at the airport is overpriced, you try calling Jackson.

It goes to voicemail. You frown, because you know exactly what that means, and you hate that you aren’t surprised by it at all. A glance out the glass doors shows you that it’s started raining, and you feel your shoulders slump — as soon as you manage to hail a taxi outside, you nearly start crying in the backseat. If the driver notices your foul mood, he doesn’t mention anything; he actually just turns the radio up for you a bit, which you appreciate. You’re in no mood to talk.

The apartment is cold and empty when you get in, meaning your boyfriend probably hasn’t been around for at least a day — he would’ve turned the heat on for you, at least, if he had. You drop your duffel by the shoe rack and trudge into the kitchen, wanting nothing more than a home-cooked meal, even if it’s leftovers—

The fridge is sparse. Any and all leftovers have obviously been consumed by your boyfriend, and with how cold the apartment is yogurt just doesn’t sound appetizing. You shut the door with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the apartment as you dig out a cheap packet of instant ramen and a bowl, shoving it in the microwave. As the mechanical whir fills the otherwise empty apartment, you plug your phone into the extra charger on the kitchen counter.

When it powers up, you find no new messages on your screen, and the ones you’ve sent to Jackson remain unseen. 

You get over it. You always do, especially when you wake up to Jackson cooking you a massive apology breakfast in the kitchen.

It’s a routine. You can’t stay mad at him — in part because you love him, but also because you’re too tired to stay mad at him. If you let every little setback like this piss you off, then the relationship would die. You tell yourself it’s up to you to keep the peace; you agreed to date a god, and so you should’ve expected it.

You try to ignore the ache in your chest when you press your face into his shoulder, allowing him to press apologetic kisses to the crown of your head and smooth down the wrinkles the his shirt you’d slept in. Your anger seeps into the cracks, unseen and for all you care, forgotten.

It’s the perfect evening. You’re clinging to Jackson’s arm as he guides you towards the restaurant your coworker has been hyping up for weeks. You have reservations, and your boyfriend is wearing a suit and keeps telling you how beautiful you look — it’s perfect. 

Friday nights are good date nights, and because of that the restaurant is extremely crowded. You’re glad you thought ahead to get a reservation for you and Jackson, and gaze around the warmly-lit establishment in childlike wonder. Jackson holds your hand across the table, using the other to peruse the menu. After a few minutes of doing the same, you lift your eyes from the page to your boyfriend’s handsome face.

“What are you thinking?” You ask, folding your own menu and setting it aside. 

“Your coworker said their pasta was good, right?” You nod, listening to Jackson as he discusses the two options he’s stuck between, and when he starts getting pouty over the decision you giggle and squeeze his hand.

“How about you get one and I get the other, and we can split?” His eyes light up at your suggestion. He lifts your hand from the table and presses a kiss to your knuckles, beaming,

“This is why I love you.” 

“Because I share food with you?” You ask, laughing, and Jackson shakes his head, smiling gently at you from across the table. His skin almost glows in the warm golden lighting. 

“No, because—”

A familiar ringtone fills the air between you, and Jackson leans back in his seat. His hand slips from your without even a moment’s hesitation as he pulls his phone from his pocket, answering it without even apologizing to you. You swallow hard, throat suddenly feeling very dry.

Only a few seconds later, his chair is pushed back and he’s standing beside you.

“I have to go,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Don’t wait up, okay? Enjoy the dinner.”

The waiter arrives with your drinks as Jackson leaves the restaurant. You can’t even bring yourself to watch him go, just listening to his footsteps until they disappear below the murmurs around you. 

“Is something wrong?” The waiter asks. You shoot him a weak smile, feeling unbearably cold all of a sudden. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, but I’ll need to get the orders to-go. Something has come up.” You’re grateful that the waiter merely nods and takes down your order, saying nothing more than is necessary. The guy even packs up some breadsticks for you, since you hadn’t even gotten that far, and within twenty minutes you’re walking alone down the sidewalk you’d just walked up with Jackson not even an hour before. There are people all around you, but somehow all you can hear is the sound of your solitary feet hitting the pavement as you make your way to the apartment.

It was supposed to be a perfect evening. You’d go out to dinner and Jackson would keep telling you how good you looked, and you’d come home and bask in each other for as long as you wanted. It would’ve been a blissful start to the weekend — but now here you are, standing in the doorway with a plastic bag dangling from your wrist.

You don’t bother to reheat your food. You shove Jackson’s box in the fridge and drop to the carpet in your living room, putting on some dumb reality show to try and numb your brain to the waves of loneliness and shame you feel rolling over you. You eat all the breadsticks by yourself, but you still end up leaving some of your pasta for Jackson to try later.

Like many of the nights you spend without Jackson, you end up falling asleep on the couch. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep in a bed without him.

You wake up to an empty apartment. You drag yourself off the couch and into the kitchen to wash your dishes from the night before. It sucks being without Jackson, sucks even more that you still feel embarrassed about the night before at that wonderful restaurant, but you know that at least the apartment will look nice when he comes back. Before you can start overthinking, you start a pot of coffee and begin spraying down the counters. The busier your body is, the less time you have to think.

Saturday passes in a whirlwind of cleaning supplies and music turned up high so you don’t have to hear yourself think. Sunday drags along, with you desperately thinking of errands to run and completing them in no time at all. You spend the afternoon binge-watching a drama, and that night when you open the fridge you’re confronted once again by Jackson’s leftovers on the glass shelf.

You avert your gaze and pull out the leftovers of your own pasta, which you’d initially intended for him. It may have been a petty thing to do, really, but you didn’t care much about if he thought you were being petty. He wouldn’t dare to bring it up anyways. The two of you never talked about things that upset you, especially not right after he came home from a trip to the underworld. You manage to fall asleep alone in bed this time.

Monday dawns with no sign of your boyfriend, and you try to ease the worry in your heart, but nothing except for seeing him could possibly make you feel any better. You go through work on autopilot, wishing you could just get over this already. It isn’t like it’s anything new, anyways.

You eat his leftovers that night, because he’s nowhere to be seen and you can’t stand to see it go to waste. It tastes like ashes in your mouth.

He finally comes back on Wednesday night. You should be asleep, but you just couldn’t get your mind to stop running in circles, so you trudged back into the living room and sat down to watch some mindless TV with a cup of tea. It almost works, maybe, except that the clicking of the front door unlocking snaps you out of your half-asleep state.

The two of you rarely fight, but this time you can’t help it. The moment he walks in from the entryway, you feel the annoyance and rage of the past two years bubbling to the surface, unable to be contained.

“Hey,” he greets, sounding tired but not unhappy. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and you hardly even blink, eyes still focused on the television. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, just moves towards the kitchen and somehow that makes you even angrier. You clench your jaw, the words coming out sharp as you hear him rifling around in the drawer for a set of chopsticks,

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” The rifling doesn’t stop, like he doesn’t even notice the change in your tone. Is he even around enough to notice something so small anymore?

“What do you mean?” He asks, stuffing some noodles into his mouth. You turn your cold gaze onto him, finding yourself infuriated with his casual pose, leaning against the doorframe as though he hasn’t a care in the world.

“I don’t know, maybe a sorry for leaving in the middle of our date?” Jackson swallows his bite and sets his bowl down, slowly making his way to the couch. He sits down beside you, turning his knees in towards yours, and slowly pulls both of your hands off of your lap and into his own. He takes a deep breath before speaking,

“Babe, you know I didn’t want to leave—”

“Do I?” You ask, “Do I know that, Jackson? You barely even hesitated to leave me there alone!” You snatch your hands away and stand up abruptly, feeling your head begin to ache with oncoming tears.

“Do you know how— how embarrassing it was to have to tell the waiter I wanted the food to-go? And then to walk all the way back here by myself, and eat by myself?”

Your boyfriend merely stares at you from his seat on the couch, slack-jawed. Suddenly, you find your vision to blurry to see him clearly, and you shake your head.

“Whatever, I’m going to bed.”

It doesn’t surprise either of you when you lock the bedroom door behind you.

Unlike any other fight you’ve ever had with Jackson, the anger from this one seeps into the next day. You avoid him in the morning before work, but you can’t seem to do so once you get home. Jackson is lying on the couch, eyes shut tight, and you shuffle quietly into the kitchen to start making dinner. 

You bring him a bowl to the living room, the sound of the ceramic settling on the wood waking him from his nap. His eyes are bloodshot and bleary; he probably didn’t sleep much last night, if at all, and you almost feel a little bit guilty. Instead, you just avert your eyes when he thanks you for dinner, and begin shoveling the food into your mouth.

But the tension continues building, like a string being pulled taut, and eventually you can’t take the silence anymore. You lick your lips nervously and set your bowl on the counter, staring at the traces of sauce left on the inside.

“So,” you start, voice small. “Are we gonna talk about it?

Jackson groans. Out of the corner of your eye you see him rub his face with his hands, keeping them over his eyes for a moment longer as he huffs a long breath out of his nose.

“Can’t it wait, Y/N? I’m exhausted.” Again, you almost pity him — but then, for a moment, you pity yourself as well. Where has he been when you’re exhausted, when you need him? Your mind goes back to standing in departures, waiting for a call that never came, and your blood runs hot.

“No, it can’t wait, Jackson,” you reply coldly. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean ‘not anymore’? I’m just asking for one night—”

“You can’t promise that!” You interrupt. “You can’t promise it will only be one night! I want— I need to talk about this before you leave again, or I might really not be able to do this anymore.” At that, Jackson’s posture stiffens. He lifts his face from his hands and turns to look at you, panic evident in his eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said! I can’t wait around for you forever,” you snap, and Jackson finds himself speechless. Suddenly, all the anger that had wound your muscles tight like a spring snaps, leaving your shoulders sagging, your expression hollow,

“I don’t have forever, Jackson.”

His heart constricts, his throat tightening along with it. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out, and you simply stare him down in the silence of the apartment. Jackson wants nothing more than to take you into his arms and smother you with his apologies, prove his love to you, but the familiar chime sounds from the watch on his wrist. 

“I— Y/N, you know… I can’t just…” 

Normally, after an argument like this, you’d scoff. This time, there are no snide remarks, only a tired look in your eyes where the smile doesn’t reach. You jerk your chin slightly towards the front door. 

“Go on, then,” you say. It’s as he slips out the door he hears something that makes his heart drop: 

“Hermes.”

In his younger years, it had seemed like a cool thing to be the only god allowed to come and go from the underworld as he pleased. The thing is, as with anything else, it tends to lose its luster in the face of monotony. 

This trip had been particularly hellish (pun intended) because Cerberus just needed attention, and needed it right then. April was always the worst for Hades; no matter how many years passed he still pouted relentlessly when Persephone had to leave and would spend the next few months moping. As such, his three-headed dog wasn’t exactly getting the most attention. And who was Jackson to deny Cerberus that? The poor pup didn’t know any better. 

He didn’t have his bearings at first, but once he emerged back into the mortal world he found that it was nighttime. After a moment his watch readjusted to his earthly time: it had been almost a full week since he’d left. 

Meaning it had been almost a full week since your fight. 

Thinking back on it, Jackson finds himself filled with shame. You were right, of course — he doesn’t have the best work-life balance, mostly because he’s never needed to. He had never considered bringing a mortal into his life, and even when he asked you to be with him he selfishly pushed your needs and feelings aside in order to do his job. When was the last time he’d really heard you out? When was the last time he did something nice for you, even asked you about your life or what you needed or how you were doing? 

How was it that he had all the time in the world and then some, and yet he couldn’t make any for you? 

On his way back to your apartment, he stops by the one convenience store still open and buys as many of your favorite candy bars as he could. The cashier gives him a weird look, but all he can think about is how he’s going to apologize when he inevitably wakes you from your slumber. 

A feeling overtakes him as he walks up the stairs in your building. A sudden onslaught of nerves, unusual for him considering his outgoing nature. It causes him to pick up the pace, going two steps at a time up to your floor until finally he bursts out into the hallway, feeling as though he can barely breathe from the tightness in his chest. 

He fishes the spare key out of his pocket. It doesn’t fit the lock. At the moment, all he can do is scoff at how petty that is of you, to change the locks on him — especially when he doesn’t need a key to get through a door. 

But then he enters the apartment. 

It’s empty. Your shoes aren’t by the door, your furniture is gone. There are indents from your couch legs still in the living room carpet, but the kitchen as spotless and so are all the walls, he realizes, as he stumbles through the hall in a sudden haze. 

There’s nothing. Not in the medicine cabinet, not in the closet where you keep your towels— even the scent of you seems to be fading and Jackson suddenly finds himself weak in the knees, leaning heavily on the doorframe to your bedroom so he doesn’t fall to the floor. 

The moonlight through the window pours straight onto the center of the floor, unobstructed in the absence of your bed. 

Jackson forces himself through to your en-suite bathroom, feeling suddenly sick to his stomach, his pulse racing. He stares down into the white bowl of the sink, willing his vision to become clear once again. 

Slowly, his gaze raises up to meet the eyes of his reflection. His eternally young face stares back at him, once a point of pride, now only a crushing reminder of the last words of your argument. I don’t have forever. 

“What good is forever without you?” He asks, although he knows you aren’t there to hear him. You didn’t leave even the faintest trace of yourself. Jackson allows a handful of hot tears to run down his face before turning and making his way out of the apartment. As he pulls the door shut behind him, he prepares to do what he does best—

He runs.