#by pouring wine over her head after she says something stupid

[mystxmomo]

... No joke page this time, because I have three relatively high effort comics sketched out better exploring this character in a way I want .

Meet Agency, everyone.

Design notes and thoughts under the cut.

You'll notice, that is a tiefling virtue name right there. A traveler by nature, he is someone who highly values freedom, and people and things having the freedom to do as they'd like in life.

He is a bard, however in battle he does not play a traditional instrument. Instead, he has a music box (it's magic, so it's a bit funky) of which he personally enchanted/made. He does compose music, but it's all rather experimental, playing with different music styles and instruments. (Not exactly something easy to bring into battle.)

He's rather cagey about how the music box works, but it seems to be a collection of different music he's come across in his travels. How he changes the songs and how it's been enchanted? He refuses to say. Emotionally, it's the equivalent of someone bringing their playlist to battle. He is dancing to the music in battle.

A chosen of Eilistraee, he was a strategic pick from her done to make a point to both her brother (Not a Drow and a Complete outsider to her main communities) and her followers (He is a man completely uninterested in humoring drow gender politics, and he barely humors her church despite becoming rather involved in it) He's not... aware of this.

Agency: I am… A little under the impression I am being used as a pawn for a greater scheme Enclave: Oh good. You figured out how this works organically. Agency: Does that… Bother you? Enclave: Ah. No. If we must use this analogy, I made myself into a pawn for this game long before you were born. Agency: Hmmm…

Overall, he's a chosen that seems to have one foot in the door at times. He's here, he has a hand from the deck. But he's maybe not as fully dedicated as he at first seems, and doesn't seem entirely aware of all the cards at play. Despite this, he does genuinely like Eilistraee. He doing a lot to humoring her. She loves that he's willing to go all out on thematically fitting to her ("I honestly used to dress up in florals more, but she really seems to enjoy the star theming. And I do look rather good in blue")

Regardless of what he does and doesn't know, and how dedicated to it he is, this is a role he agreed to take on knowing there would be some... difficulties. Especially given the time he came into the picture. (He is another character introduced at the most modern point of the story.)

...

A lot of his shape language is meant to be somewhat devious seeming. Anime villian shape language. He has a lot of points and angles, but rather pretty features. His horns are meant to mimic crescent moons, and together come to create a full one.

Personality wise, he is unironically just like. A well meaning man with no bait and switch. He CAN be a little dramatic, as he's a theater kid at heart. But he has a very gentle soul. Contrasted with the fact that he does just love a good fight.

[hanniebaeee]

Pieces of Us

Chris Bang x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: Exes to lovers, second chance love, fluff, smut

Summary: Even a year after your divorce, you can't get over Chris. You keep seeing him all the time because you're co parenting your daughter, and you see that he's still the same man you fell in love with. And you both haven't moved on at all.

It’s late. Your apartment is silent except for the hum of the refrigerator, as you sit on the sofa, nursing a glass of wine when you hear the doorbell.

You find Chris on your doorstep, punctual as usual, holding your toddler, Mia, against his chest, her small body curled into him like she’s still a newborn.

Your heart does a funny little lurch. It must be the wine. Definitely the wine.

“She fell asleep in the car,” he whispers, stepping inside. He is still dressed in his formals, and your traitorous eyes drink him in.

“Rough day?” he asks softly, noting the wine and the way your shoulders sag.

“Something like that,” you mutter, gesturing to Mia’s room. “You can put her to bed.”

Chris nods, carrying her toward her bedroom. He emerges moments later, quietly shutting her door behind him. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and a little too comforting.

“What happened?” he asks, folding his arms against his chest.

“It’s nothing,” you say, but Chris raises an eyebrow.

“Bullshit,” he counters smoothly, sitting next to you on the sofa. “You know you can't lie to me.”

You roll your eyes but relent and say, “Work politics. Same old garbage.”

Chris winces, before he leans forward and says, “You’re too good for them, you know that, right?”

Those are simple words, but they hit harder than they should. You glance at him, something raw flickering in your chest.

“Oh please,” you murmur, looking away.

“What?” He asks. “It’s true.”

You don’t answer, reaching instead for the bottle of wine. Chris doesn’t stop you as you pour a second glass.

“Here, celebrate my failures with me,” you tease, trying to ease your own heart. “I don't feel like wallowing in self pity alone tonight.”

He snorts, shaking his head, but takes the glass.

“You're so dramatic,”

“And yet, you were married to me for five years,” you quip, with a grin.

The wine loosen you both faster than it should. Soon, you’re reminiscing about Mia’s first words, and the road trip to Busan where the car broke down, and you ended up making out in the car till Minho came to rescue you both.

“I miss this,” you admit quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Talking...and everything,”

You and Chris had been good friends before you both fell in love. It had been the most beautiful years of your life before things started falling apart.

He doesn’t say anything, but reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. It’s subtle, but it sets your heart racing. Like always. Even a year after your divorce, you clearly haven't moved on.

“I miss it too,” he finally says, his voice low. “All the time.”

“Please don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” you mumble.

He leans in, closer than he’s been in a more than year, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“You think I don’t mean it? You think I ever stopped wanting you?”

Your breath catches as he closes the distance between you. His lips hover inches from yours as he says, “I never stopped…”

It’s reckless, stupid, maybe even a mistake - but you don’t care. You let him close the gap, his lips crashing into yours, and everything you’ve been holding back spills over.

The kiss is messy and heated - all the pent-up frustration and longing coming crashing down. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you melt against him, your arms circling his neck. His lips move against yours desperately, like he is afraid to let go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and a little lost, Chris brushes a thumb over your cheek.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whisper.

“No. But it’s a start.”

It’s intoxicating - the feel of him, the heat radiating off his body. You both pull each other close again, his lips moving down your neck, leaving soft kisses.

But somewhere in between, reality raises its nagging head and you falter.

“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back slightly.

Chris freezes, his breathing ragged, as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“This is… reckless,” you whisper, though your heart won't allow you to let go of him.

He exhales sharply, leaning back just enough to meet your gaze. “Y/N, I -”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, your voice trembling. “I don't want us to mess up again.”

He gives you a look and you think he might argue. But then he sighs. He looks exhausted and a little heart broken. But he stands up and says, “You’re right. We can’t… not like this.”

“You have to go.” You swallow hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you.

He stares at you for a long moment, then he nods.

“Right. I’ll… I’ll call tomorrow to check on Mia.” he says, clearing his throat.

You nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. Because this feels even harder than the first time.

“Goodnight, Chris.” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he says, his voice rough.

As soon as he’s gone, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over. You sink onto the couch, your face in your hands, and you cry until your throat is raw. You missed him. And you still hate yourself for letting this happen.

It starts with a look. It always does.

The next time Chris comes by, it’s late again, Mia’s tiny backpack slung over his shoulder, and her hand clutching his tightly as they walk to your door. You try to play it cool, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed and a polite smile fixed on your face.

But then he looks at you and the air shifts.

“Hi,” he says, his voice lower than it needs to be, his gaze lingering on your mouth.

“Hi,” your voice shakes but it's soft.

Mia is already running into her room, way too excited to get to her new playset, and Chris watches her for a moment, before his gaze settles on you.

And then there are no words exchanged as his hands grab you towards him and he's pushing you against the kitchen counter, kissing you.

You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand slips down your back, cupping your butt before pulling you flush against himself.

“Is this going to keep happening?” you ask breathlessly, as he kisses down your neck. Past your collarbone. Down your chest. His face is buried in your breasts, before he kisses them over your t-shirt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him, and you gasp as he bites your nipple over the fabric and a dull pleasure courses through your body.

“What?” he murmurs, his lips back on yours again.

“This,” you say between kisses.

He kisses you again, rougher than before and says,

“Tell me to stop,” he says, and his hands cup your cheeks, gazing into your eyes.

You don’t. You can’t. Instead, you pull him closer, your bodies so familiar with each other.

It becomes a pattern after that. Anytime he comes over - whether he’s dropping off Mia or picking her up - it happens.

Sometimes it’s rushed and frantic, like the time he cornered you in the kitchen, your lips colliding as the coffee maker sputtered in the background. And other times, it’s slow and sweet. Especially when he knows you're a bit down or you're having a bad day.

You don’t talk about it. It’s easier to pretend this is just an outlet, a way to scratch the itch that never seems to fade.

You tell yourself this is only because he's the only man you've been with for so damn long. You two had married so young. You hate thinking about it.

So you don't. But deep down, you know it’s more than just sex. But you’re not ready to acknowledge it. Neither is he.

Friday evenings with Minho are sacred. He's your best friend, your big brother, your pillar of support. The one person who held you up during your separation from Chris. The only person who knows that you still loved him with everything in you.

Minho brings take out, you both talk, watch a movie, sometimes two. And fall asleep on each other because obviously, you both were the laziest besties in the world.

You've been trying to tell Chris to leave, but he is busy pounding into you. You stand with your hands grips the kitchen counter as he thrust into you from the back, his hands holding onto your hips tightly.

“He's gonna be here any minute!” You hiss, and Chris moves faster, and more rough. You try not to moan as waves of pleasure hit you, and you clench so hard around him, he's shuddering with his release.

“Fuck-” He groans, pressing his face against the back of your neck before slowly pulling out of you.

You both clean up and look somewhat presentable when the doorbell rings. You sigh because Minho will see right through you.

And he won't let you live this down. Ever.

You glance at Chris before opening the door. And Minho steps in already ranting about his day and he stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Chris.

Well that's a first - Minho being at a loss of words.

You freeze, your cheeks burning, while Chris awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, Minho,” Chris says, giving him a quick nod.

Minho doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looks between the two of you, his lips twitching in amusement, before slowly smirking.

“Hey, Chris.” Then, he strolls further inside saying, “Don’t mind me. I'm just here for my niece.”

He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Chris standing there like a couple of teenagers caught doing something bad.

“I should, uh, get going,” he says, though he doesn’t move.

“Right, yeah,” you stammer, smoothing your hands over your skirt nervously.

“See you on Sunday,” he says, opening the door.

“See you,” you manage, your heart racing again, and Chris flashes you a smile before leaving.

The moment the door shuts, Minho reappears, a wicked grin plastered across his face.

“Soooo…”

“Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” he says, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re clearly fucking Chris freaking Bang and you want me to not start?”

“Minho,” you warn, making a beeline for the living room, and he follows you with that menacing grin still in place.

“So, when exactly did this ‘we’re just co-parents’ arrangement turn into ‘we’re fuck buddies again’?”

“It’s not like that!” you protest, though your face feels like it’s on fire.

“Uh-huh.” He says, starting to plate up the food. “You two were totally not flushed and guilty. Try again.”

You bury your face in a throw pillow.

“Linooooo stopppp!! It’s complicated.” you whine.

“It always is with you two,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re like Ross and Rachel, except somehow more frustrating.”

You peek out from behind the pillow, glaring at him.

“We’re not -”

“Don’t even think about saying you’re not into him,” Minho interrupts, pointing his chopsticks at you. “I know you, Y/N.”

You open your mouth to argue but immediately close it, because he's stating the obvious and there is no real use of denying it.

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to jump your ex-husband, at least warn me so I can avoid walking into it.” Minho smirks, leaning back smugly.

You groan, throwing the pillow at him. He dodges it easily, laughing as you sink further into the couch, hands covering your face.

“Seriously, though,” he says after a moment, his tone softening. “Are you okay? I mean, this whole Chris thing… are you sure about this?”

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know. I love him, Minho, and I swear I tried to move on…but, everytime I look at him…he's the same person I fell in love with. He's not a monster. He's a great father. He's a good friend. And.. and I don't even know why…” Your voice cracks a bit as you struggle with your thoughts. “Then we talked, and it’s like… like nothing’s changed. But everything has changed, and it’s so… messy.”

“Messy’s okay. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. Whether that’s with Chris or someone else.” he says softly. “If you're sure, then go for it.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to be honest with Chris. To let go of the pride and the fear and just… try again. Because God, you really want to.

Sunday arrives, and Mia is up early, ready for her day with her daddy. She even picks out her favorite toy to take along with her and insists on wearing the sparkly dress she knows Chris loves.

When Chris texts, you think it's to let you know that he's on his way. But it wasn't.

Chris: Hey, something came up. Can we reschedule Mia’s time for today?

You blink at it for a moment, heart sinking slightly. You don’t question it - life happens, after all. But Mia doesn’t take it as well.

“Daddy’s not coming?” she asks, her lower lip trembling and her little shoulders slump in disappointment.

You kneel down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

“No, sweetheart. He’s just busy today, but we’ll see him soon. How about we have a girls' day instead?”

She looks up at you with big tear filled eyes.

“Girls' day? With Mommy?” she asks, and you nod, pulling her into a tight hug.

“That’s right. Just you and me. Let’s make it special.” You say, kissing her cheek and getting on with it.

You spend the afternoon indulging in ice cream, shopping for new art supplies, and of course, toys. You also take her to an indoor play area that she loves, and by the time you get home, Mia is falling asleep in your arms.

You carry her to her room, tuck her into bed, and she’s out within minutes. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you step out of her room.

The apartment falls into a quiet, peaceful lull. You wash up quickly and sit in front of the TV, hoping to watch an episode of that show you've been trying to watch for a while now. It's not exactly easy with a toddler around.

But around fifteen minutes into the show, you hear the sound of the doorbell. You open the door, and there stands Chris, holding a small box in his hand.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low, as he meets your gaze. “I'm sorry about today. I brought her favorite cupcakes.”

Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him.

“That’s sweet of you.” you say, “But she's already asleep.”

“Oh…I was hoping to see her before....ah,” Chris says with a little sigh.

You give him a small, sympathetic shrug.

“It's okay, she can eat them tomorrow,” You say with a smile and step aside to let him in.

He nods, stepping inside and setting the box of cupcakes on the kitchen counter. There’s disappointment in his eyes and it stirs something deep inside you.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he says, and it feels like he’s apologizing for more than just missing his day with Mia.

“It’s really okay. Mia missed you, but we still had a good day. She was really happy.” you tell him.

Chris’s gaze lingers on you a moment too long before he says,“I feel like I keep letting you both down.”

“Chris, please don't say that,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “We know you’re doing your best. I know you’re trying.”

He nods, though he doesn't look completely convinced.

“So,” you say, trying to keep it light, “I’m about to have dinner… want to join me?”

It’s an innocent enough invitation. Casual. Polite. But the way he looks at you gives you an idea of what's about to happen next.

Chris takes a step forward, his hand gently cupping your cheek, and then his lips are on yours. The kiss deepens almost instantly and he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together.

You stifle a sob, and Chris is quickly pulling back to look at you, tipping your chin up to see you better.

“Baby, please don't-”

“I love you-”

There is a moment of silence - Chris's eyes soften as he watches the tears fall. You can't believe you just said that. But this whole thing was getting more and more difficult to manage. The constant need to be close to him. Waiting for the days he spent with Mia, just so you could see him.

And then he's kissing you again, mumbling a hundred ‘I love yous’ you against your lips, and the next thing you know, he's scooping you up in his arms and carrying you towards your bedroom.

He closes the door gently (so that it doesn't wake Mia), and places you on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you on the floor.

“Baby, I never stopped loving you. And there isn't a day where I don't regret letting you walk out of my life… we could've handled things better…and everytime I came here for Mia, I wished you would just ask me to stay. I selfishly wished that you wouldn't move on.” he says, his voice soft and his touch even softer as he placed his hands on your knees.

“I don't think I can ever love anyone like I love you. If you give me another chance, I promise I'll not let you down. I'll spend every day of the rest of my life proving to you that you're my everything… and I will be here for you, always.”

You nod and tears falling more rapidly now, and throw your arms around Chris's neck, and he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing against your neck as he holds you close.

“I love you, baby I'm sorry-” You cry, your arms tightening around him. “I didn't know what to do…the baby, the job, there was so much noise, and I wasn't well…I'm sorry I didn't see that you were suffering too-” you hiccup through your tears.

You feel his hand moving up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“I know baby, I'm not mad. We were both suffering. We were both hurt. But we're here now.” Chris whispers.

“I love you, I want you back. Please don't leave me again-”

Chris kisses you again, stealing your breath away.

“No more crying over me ok?” He says with a soft smile. “I'm not going anywhere…I love you and Mia so much, I am going to be here-”

More kisses follow and you move back into the bed, and he follows, both of you pulling at each other's clothes.

He trails his lips down your neck, and it feels like the world outside your bedroom might as well not exist. His hands glide over your skin, gentle, but just as desperate.

You can feel the way he trembles against you, the way his breath catches as your hands move down his chest. And then when he slips inside, as gentle as ever, you can't help but cry, because as beautiful as the moment feels, you realize just how miserable you have been without him.

Chris moves slowly at first, and you close your eyes as the pleasure builds. He peppers so many kisses on your lips and neck, like he can't kiss you enough.

His fingers work on your clit as he moves, and soon your body shudders as your orgasm ripples through you. You moan softly, and it obviously has him crashing down too.

You don't let go, because truth be told, you're afraid he's going to leave. And tonight? You don't want him to. Actually, you don't want to see him walk out that door ever again.

And Chris isn't planning to, because he holds you just as tight, promising softly that he'll be here when you wake up in the morning. And you let your eyes fall shut, trusting him.

You both decide to take it slow, for Mia's sake.

Chris doesn’t officially move in, yet, but his presence is…undeniable. There are more of his things around the house, and more than anything else, it's the way Mia’s laughter grows louder every time he walks through the door. You’ve caught yourself smiling more too - wide, genuine smiles you hadn’t worn in ages.

You love watching him help Mia with her bedtime routine, fixing squeaky hinges around the house you’ve ignored for months, and finding every excuse to stay a bit longer.

And Minho? Well, he’s having the time of his life.

---

One Friday evening, you’re all gathered in the living room. Chris is helping Mia build a tower with her blocks while you sip wine and half-listen to Minho’s dramatic story about his latest “date gone wrong.”

“And then she said she didn’t like cats. Cats, Y/N. Can you imagine the nerve?” Minho says, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks as he digs into the takeout he insisted on bringing.

“Oh my God” you say, laughing as Chris adds, “Sounds horrible, but maybe try not to bring home every stray you find?”

“Don’t think I don’t see you trying to steal my best friend away. Again.” Minho narrows his eyes, pointing at Chris.

“Jealous, Minho?” Chris quips, and Minho scoffs, leaning back dramatically.

“Of you? Please.” Minho says. “But whatever this setup is, it's sure looks promising.”

You freeze mid-sip of your wine, while Chris raises an eyebrow.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“I’m just saying, for exes, you two sure look cozy.” Minho grins, and your cheeks burn, as you try not to look at Chris.

“Minho…” you warn.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m rooting for you,” Minho says, winking before turning back to Mia. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll adopt Mia. Because you two are idiots. And we're done dealing with you. Sorry, not sorry.”

Mia giggles at the mention of her name before getting back to her game.

---

Later that night, after Minho has left (eyeing you mischievously because Chris was still there) and Mia is asleep, you and Chris are clearing up the kitchen.

“You know,” he says, his voice low, “Minho isn’t wrong.”

“About what?” You ask, glancing at him, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

“About us. About this.” Chris says, leaning against the counter and folding his arms.

Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at him, watching him push off the counter and walk towards you.

The towel slips from your hands as his fingers brush against your cheek, and his lips land on yours.

It’s slow at first, warm and tender, but it doesn’t take long for it to snap and you're both pulling each other closer. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your body responding to his touch like it always has.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath.

“I love you,” he says, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you too,” you admit, and he smiles, his dimples making an appearance and your heart races as you reach up to run your fingers over it.

He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second of it. And at that moment, this doesn't really feel like a second chance.

It’s the beginning of everything you’ve ever wanted.

The smell of pancakes fills the house as sunlight filters through the kitchen windows. Chris stands at the stove, a spatula in one hand, flipping golden-brown pancakes onto a plate. He’s wearing his usual gray shorts and a fitted black T-shirt. His hair is messy, a sign that he’s only been up for about twenty minutes, and he’s humming softly to himself as he works.

Mia sits at the table, still in her pajamas, happily coloring into a giant coloring book. This is such a dream. You lean against the counter, sipping your coffee, watching Chris with a faint smile that you haven’t been able to shake since he stayed over last night.

For the first time… in a very long time.

And then, the doorbell rings. You frown, setting down your coffee.

“Expecting someone?” He asks and you shake your head, walking to the door and opening it to find your mum standing there, a purse slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face.

“Mum?” you say, blinking in surprise.

“Surprise, sweetheart!” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Wanted to see my girls, and I brought muffins!”

She holds up a bakery bag, grinning, then stops dead in her tracks.

Her gaze falls on Chris, who’s just turned around from the stove, spatula still in hand, his expression frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh,” your mom says.

There's silence for a second before Mia screeches, “Grandmaaaaaaaa!!!”

Your mum picks Mia up, pressing a kiss to her cheek before asking if she could play in her room for sometime. Mia pouts, but runs off with a muffin.

Her eyes narrow slightly, taking in how casual Chris looks, his messy hair, and the way he just seems to be part of the scene.

“Good morning, mum,” Chris says smoothly, recovering faster than you could've thought.

He smiles, dimples flashing, as he asks, “Pancakes?”

Your mum raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying his innocent act. She folds her arms, looking at you.

“Y/N… what’s going on here?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” you start, suddenly feeling like a child again.

“Mhm.” She gives you a look that says she doesn’t believe you for a second. “You’re telling me it’s normal for your ex-husband to be in your kitchen, making pancakes, looking like he just rolled out of bed?”

“Technically, I did just roll out of bed,” Chris says, unable to resist.

You shoot him a glare, but he has already turned back to the stove, hiding a smirk.

“Y/N?” Your mom’s eyes narrow further.

“It’s… kind of...,” you say finally, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yes?” she prompts, looking from you to Chris and then back at you. You think she's going to give you a nice big lecture about responsibility. But she lets out a sigh, her posture softening.

“You know,” she says, her tone gentler now, “I always thought the two of you were good for each other. When you got divorced, I was shocked and devastated - for you, for Mia.” She pauses, her eyes locking with yours. “But if you’re giving this another try… I just want to make sure you’re happy, sweetheart. That you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

“I know I messed up before. I know I hurt your daughter. But I love her. I always have, and I’m doing everything I can to show her - and Mia - that I’m here to stay. I realize that I need them more than they need me…so yeah,”

Your mum’s gaze softens as she studies him, and then she looks at you.

“And you, Y/N? Are you happy?”

You glance at Chris, who’s watching you with that steady loving gaze that’s always made you feel safe and sure, and you nod.

“Yeah, Mum. I am.”

Your mom smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Well, then. I suppose I’ll have to stick around for breakfast. Those pancakes smell amazing.”

Chris grins and gets back to work, and your mum nods, making her way in to properly greet her granddaughter again.

Just as she disappears, Chris slides up beside you, his hand brushing yours as you start setting the table for breakfast.

“That went better than expected,” he murmurs, his voice low.

“You’ve always been her favorite, you know.” You glance at him, your lips twitching into a smile.

He smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Good to know I still am.” He pecks your lips quickly before getting back to work.

You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as your mum comes back with Mia in her arms. And you all sit around the table and enjoy breakfast.

It’s chaotic and imperfect, but it's home. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like everything is exactly where it’s meant to be. All the scattered pieces of you finally fit.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l

[my-jukebox]

I finished the one piece live action and I have to say, I loved it so much that I decided to write something!! Posting this on Sanji's birthday, because why not?

When you cook for them

Genre: Imagines, Fluff

Characters: (gn!reader) Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Shanks, and Mihawk.

Luffy

Would try to help you out but ends up eating most of the ingredients.

According to him, he's your taste tester and sous chef but God forbid, anyone letting him in the kitchen.

After throwing him out of the kitchen, you could finally cook in peace.

He would be pouting and everything when you get out of the kitchen but immediately smiles brightly when he sees the dishes all set out.

Would drool before you even serve him, and talks with his mouth full.

Devours the food like it's his last meal and savours every moment of it.

After eating, as a way of saying thanks, he would help you by cleaning the dishes (doesn't do a good job but who's complaining)

Zoro

Gets surprised when you say you're cooking for him and frankly, doesn't disturb you at all.

But makes jokes on how you'll burn the kitchen down, burn the food, and whatnot.

He sits wherever he can best watch you cook while sipping on his wine.

Every time you catch him gawking at you, he shrugs it off saying he was looking at the food instead, but the blush on his face says otherwise.

Once you're done, he doesn't hesitate to dig in like there's no tomorrow.

It doesn't matter if you cook badly or not, he'll eat it without complaining because that's just how much he loves you.

He pours some wine for you and sits as close as he possibly can, intertwining your fingers together.

Will also help you clean up as an excuse to spend more time together.

Sanji

The most annoying out of everyone here, honestly.

Keeps asking you what you're adding and why, what you're making, and the usual "you're doing it all wrong babe."

Still lets you do your own thing while he looks over your shoulder.

If you add oregano to the pasta, he'll throw it out of your hands and won't even say anything about it.

After the final touches, you place the plate in front of him and look at him with hopes that he likes it.

For Sanji, anything you do for him is good enough. He won't ask for much.

As he finishes eating, he'll look at you and for the hell of it, says, "Not bad."

A glare is enough to shut him up and he smirks at you as you slowly break into laughter.

Nami

She would be the most delighted, after Luffy of course.

Volunteers to help out and goes grocery shopping with you.

You won't tell her what you're making, and she couldn't care less as long as you are the one making it.

Would love if you finish fast so you can give her attention but won't admit it.

Once you serve her, she's already humming and praising you.

Hopes you cook for her again, and next time she'll help out.

Shanks <3

Tells you that you don't have to but secretly loves that you're doing it for him.

Whether you like it or not, he's going to sit atop the counter and make his stupid puns, knowing you'll laugh at them even if they aren't funny.

He tells you stories of the crew and his adventures.

Helps you serve the food and has you sit with him on the counter as he eats.

Doesn't matter if the food is good or not, he is eternally grateful for your hard work and makes it known by his sweet gestures.

After he finishes, he smiles gently at you and gets off the counter.

If you ask him what he's doing, he'll kiss your forehead and say, "Don't you want dessert? My treat!!"

Ends up making the worst dessert but hey, at least he tried.

Mihawk

When he sees you cooking, he won't even question it and just lets you do whatever.

However, he will wrap his hands around you from behind and rest his head on your shoulder.

Impatient as he is, he will keep asking you if you're done.

Once you're actually done, he'll say something along the lines of, "Took you forever."

Needless to say, he does appreciate the food you made for him, considering the shitty jobs he has to put up with.

The type to act like a food critic but knows shit about anything food-related.

Gives honest feedback though, but makes sure it doesn't hurt your feelings in any way.

This one was fun to write. I hope you guys enjoyed my first post. Feel free to request for more. I'll add a taglist if you guys want.

Do like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed!!

Masterlist

[pennylanewrites]

[love in the dark] levi ackerman x f!reader

cw + what to expect: angsty levi thinking he’s not good enough for you, self deprecation, talks of a family and kids, nudity (not sexual), brief mentions of battle scars, swearing, jealousy, alcohol consumption, eventual comfort

levi hated everything he loved about you. you were so loud and talkative and bubbly. always smiling, despite the chaos around you. always caring and laughing and mumbling made-up melodies.

he hated that other people loved those parts of you too. he hated the way erwin would light up when you entered the room, that he somehow found ways to spend more time than needed with you, that hange would tease him playfully about his crush on you, a simple cadet.

but what he hated the most was that he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t kick the living shit out of erwin and punch hange’s stupid face, scream how much he loves you.

because you were a cadet. levi was a captain. it was so inappropriate, him breaking every possible rule and code of honour to be with you.

today was a very bad day. many scouts had lost their lives in an expedition to capture two titans for research. the remaining ones needed an uplift, erwin thought. and now squad leaders, captains, scouts and the fucking commander were sitting in a circle drinking wine.

you couldn’t handle your alcohol. levi was the first person to introduce you to wine, and then whiskey. that was also the first time levi felt old. how young were you that you had never tasted alcohol before?

he smiled to himself at the memory, but the smile faltered when he looked up to see erwin helping you to a couch. you gracefully thanked your commander, slightly embarrassed at how dizzy you were. petra, your friend, looked between you and the commander, giving you a suggestive wiggle of the brows. that didn’t go unnoticed by your captain, whose hand slipped as he poured wine in petra’s glass, turning her white pants a pale hue of red.

something snapped inside of levi as he drank glass after glass of sweet red wine. erwin had so much to offer to you. money, a home, a family. you were listening intently as erwin explained the rules of a card game to you, peering over his shoulder as you sat on the couch and he on the floor.

don’t let your head fall on his shoulder. don’t let your-

a gasp came from levi’s left. of course it was fucking hange.

“i must be boring you.” erwin chuckled when he realised you were falling asleep. “i’ll take you to your dorm.” levi reached the couch with two big steps, protectively standing between you and erwin as you got up.

“i’ll take her.” he was throwing daggers at erwin with his gray eyes, and erwin was surprisingly returning the gaze.

“you don’t have to, captain. take your rest today.” erwin was not giving it up. he gave levi a pleading look, as if saying let me have this, friend.

you’re not my fucking friend, replied levi.

“she’s my soldier, erwin.” you pulled on levi’s jacket, after making sure no one saw. a silent please stop. “lead the way, cadet. you can walk, i assume.” he was cold. more than usual, barely letting you say your good nights to the room.

was he mad at you? you weren’t the one making advances, it was erwin. you didn’t know how to politely turn your commander down, nor did the alcohol running through your veins allow you to.

“your room is that way, is it not?” levi stopped sharply, making you hit his back.

“levi,” when had you ever slept in your room the last two years? “are you mad at me?”

he sighed and turned around, still alert for any guards, or even worse, erwin and hange showing up.

“you’re drunk.” was all he said before walking again, signaling for you to follow. he was silent the rest of the way, silent as he stepped out of his clothes, silent as he grabbed a towel.

“can we take a bath together?” you asked hopefully. deep down you had a feeling he would turn you down. levi was always sour after failed expeditions.

“i want to go to sleep tonight, you take too damn long in the bath.” he was right, but the way he said it made it sound like he was accusing you of being a serial killer.

“okay. you go then, i showered before.” you smiled softly and started taking your clothes off to lay on the clean linen sheets.

levi thought about tonight over and over as he sat in the hot water. he didn’t mean to snap at you, or be so mean. he was pushing you away and into erwin’s arms.

erwin could give you the world. levi could not.

and you deserved the damn world.

he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you taking up the entirety of the bed, stark naked, like you always did.

he loved everything about your body. every curve, every dip, every beauty mark. he loved the healed pink scars on your legs and back, he loved kissing them and caressing them every time you cried that they were ghastly.

he hated what he was about to do.

“don’t you dare.” your voice was quavering. you didn’t dare look away from the ceiling.

“dare what?” levi put his boxers on and tried pushing you to the wall so he could lie down. why are you crying?

“do what you’re about to do, levi.” you moved so he could sit next to you and you both rested your backs on the cold wall.

“if you know what i’m about to do, you also know why.”

“oh, eyebrows is flirting with my girlfriend. time to ruin a perfectly fine two-year relationship.” you were mocking him. he was almost mad at you, but you were trying so hard not to cry.

“that’s not it.” he muttered. god, he hated talking about these things. “i can’t…”

i can’t give you enough.

“can’t what, levi? can’t love me anymore?”

“i can’t be what you need.” he sighed and turned away. why the fuck were his eyes burning and watering now?

“what are you talking about?”

“do you want kids, y/n?”

you let out a surprised laugh.

“levi-”

“do you?”

“well, yeah. not for like, ten years, but sure.”

“there you have it.”

“what, are you impotent or something?” you tried making light of the situation, because truly, you had no idea how to approach this. so you resorted to humour, hoping levi would snap out of it too.

“no, i’m just not cut out for that family crap.” he was standing up and walking around the room now, and he was making you dizzy. “erwin is, though. erwin wants a family and three children, did you know?”

you did know. you still shook your head no.

“and he has money to raise them. hell, he has a house in the countryside, and servants.”

“well, good for him. i hope he finds a wife soon.”

“are you fucking stupid, y/n?” you hated when he talked like that. “you’re 22 years old, god damn it!”

“so?”

“other women your age are already married and have a second kid on the way. not wasting their days away fighting titans, risking their lives!”

“i didn’t join the scouts to find a husband, levi!” you were crying. god, he hated it so much. what was he even doing. levi regretted ever opening his mouth.

“don’t you understand, erwin is your way out! you’re wasting your time with me. your life.”

“levi…” now you finally understood. it wasn’t that he was jealous of erwin flirting with you. well, that too, but he was jealous of the life erwin was living. “levi, i love you.”

“y/n, i really don’t know what you’re doing with me.” he was sitting down on the edge of the bed, his back to you. you shifted on the bed, until your legs were around his and your cheek resting on his back.

“i know you don’t get it, but you’re giving me exactly what i need.”

“and what is that?”

your hand fell on top of his, and you intertwined your fingers before he could take it away.

“you give me life, levi. and that’s more than i could ask for. i know you’re scared that you’ll die, or i will, but that’s our purpose. i joined the scouts knowing the risks.”

“i just want you to live properly. peacefully.”

“so be my peace.” you whispered in his ear and got up, sitting down again on his lap. “and don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me.”

“i know i’m not, y/n.”

“i don’t care, then. i love you, i don’t want to lose this, ever. i don’t care that i’m too young, or at child-bearing age or whatever other stupid crap you’ll come up with.” he smiled softly at you, letting his forehead fall against yours.

“promise you won’t die, then?” you giggled and kissed the tip of his nose before replying.

“i promise.”

“i love you.”

“good. don’t ever do that shit again, levi.”

“don’t swear.” he muttered and guided you to lie down, still on top of him. you could feel your heartbeats turn to one as you lay in silence. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“that’s okay. just know i wouldn’t trade you for anything. for anyone.”

“really?” his arms tightened around you. a form of saying, me neither. you’re my everything.

“yeah, i like my men to have thin eyebrows.”

[maidragoste]

Can you please write a drabble about it being the readers birthday on like maybe December 6th and she requests a whole family dinner amongst her green and black relatives and at this dinner, everyone begins to argue and she leaves upset, but as she's getting ready for bed, her mother (Rhaenyra or Alicent, you can pick) walks into her room to apologize for the disturbance and asks reader if she can follow her, when reader does, her mother leads her to the library where all her relatives are and they all have gifts for her and everyone is getting along and it's a happy birthday in the end. I know you are a very busy girl and you can obviously change the story and stuff, but it'd mean a lot if the date remained the same as that is my birthday and whenever I request a birthday related story lol, no one ever wants to write it which I get, but I'm a very poor English speaker and writer and I am just a poor writer in general so I can only imagine this stuff so it'd be cool to have it written out. Thank you and have a lovely day!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I hope it's still December 6th in your country and I'll feel fulfilled hahaha I hope you had a nice celebration and thank you for choosing me to write something for you in honor of your birthday 🥰🥰💖💖 I hope you like it!

You were upset and disappointed. Nothing like how excited you were when you started the day. It was your name day and you wanted to celebrate. You hadn't asked for anything extravagant like a tournament in your honor, all you had asked for was a family dinner. It shouldn't be that complicated. But with your family everything was. They may not have ended up in war after your father's death but you could still feel the tension between both sides of the family. Your mother still wore her green dresses and Daemon always looked at you and your siblings like they were the enemy. Maybe it was stupid of you to think that they would forget about the feud for today.

You began to take the hairpins out of your hair as you thought about everything that had gone wrong with dinner. First Daeron was too busy in Old Town so he hadn't been able to come; then Aegon while pouring himself more wine had rowed some of it over Jacaerys. Your brother claimed it was an accident and pretended he was drunk but you were sure he did it on purpose after Jacaerys asked you and Helaena if you would dance with him later. Afterwards Aemond in what was supposed to be a speech about you ended up finding some way to “subtly” insult your nephews. Of course, they didn’t stay quiet and so the big fight began. You had left upset while you listened to your mother trying to stop your brothers.

“Mother,” you said, not hiding your annoyance, seeing her enter your chambers, when you were already finishing undoing your hair. “Did someone die while I was gone?”

At your scathing tone, Alicent couldn’t help but feel even more guilty. You had never spoken to her like that, you were always a good daughter to her, sweet and ready to help your family. You hadn’t asked for much and somehow they had managed to ruin your day.

“I’m sorry, my sweet girl. We didn't behave like we should" she sighed. "But your day doesn't have to end like this, please come with me"

You couldn't stay upset with your mother for long, not when she looked at you with pleading eyes and you could see how guilty she felt. The way she moved her hands made her look nervous that you would reject her.

"It's okay" you agreed and watched as she relaxed.

You walked out of your chambers together with your arms linked and you let her lead you through the castle. It caught your attention when you realized she was taking you to the library but you didn't say anything. You looked at your mother confused when she didn't instantly open the doors.

The truth is that Alicent was afraid that the two of you would find that the family was fighting each other again. She made a quick prayer in her head and opened the door.

"Daeron!" you screamed and ran excitedly into your brother's arms. He picked you up and hugged you and you laughed. You didn't know how you had missed Tessarion's arrival but you didn't care. You were glad to have him with you.

“Of course, he's her favorite” you heard Aegon say as Daeron put you down.

“Because he didn't try to ruin my name day,” you said without letting go of Daeron

“For saying such a slander I won't give you my present”

And thanks to Aegon you noticed that one of the tables in the library was full of presents. You were surprised to see so many. You weren't expecting presents that weren't from your siblings, your mother and your grandfather. But clearly, Rhaenyra, Daemon, your nephews, and your cousins ​​had brought you something too.

“It doesn't matter cousin, I'm sure you're not missing much,” Baela said making you laugh.

“I'm sure my present is better than yours”

Of course, as you opened the presents your family started arguing about who would give you the best present. But you didn't care because you could see that this time it wasn't a serious fight. You were happy to see that both sides of your family were sharing this moment with you. Maybe this could be the start of a change in the whole family dynamic, leaving the feuds behind.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"Be right back," you announced to Rosita and Carol, getting up and rushing to the front door. You couldn't help the wide smile that formed when you realized it was Daryl standing there waiting. "Hi," you greeted him warmly. "What's up?" The heat and humidity of summer had finally broken and given way to a gloriously beautiful autumn day. His wavy brown hair was lightly tousled from the wind.

He seemed nervous, shifting his weight back and forth, turning something copper colored and fuzzy over and over in his hands. "Uhh—just wanted to drop this off for ya..." He thrust the orange something into your hands and your fingers sunk into velvety soft fox fur. A pelt. "I trapped it last year and made it into scarf-kinda thing 'n—the weather's turned now and all. Thought ya might need it." He stood there looking as if he was somehow imposing on you by standing on your front stoop. "Yer always cold, ya know," he drawled, trailing off at the end.

"Thanks," was all you managed and it was woefully inadequate. You were a little surprised by the whole occurrence.

"No problem," he said, ducking his head and turning to rush down your front steps.

"Hey—Daryl!" you called after him. "Rosita and Carol are here. We were just having some drinks... Carol stole some wine from the pantry. If you wanted to come in?"

He looked like he was considering saying yes for a brief moment, chewing on his bottom lip, but he eventually ducked his head. "Nah... ya'll have a good time. I dun wanna get in the way of a girls' night."

He'd already turned to leave again when you said his name once more. "Daryl!" you called after him again. "You're never in the way," you asserted, cocking an eyebrow up at him.

He nodded, one corner of his mouth twitching up. "Thanks. But I'll just see ya around, alrigh'? Dun drink too much," he cautioned you.

You watched him rushing away up the sidewalk and disappeared back inside, turning the fox fur over and over in your hands the same way he had been.

"What's that?" Carol asked as you stepped back into the kitchen.

It took you a moment to even register that she'd said something to you. "Huh? Oh. It's a fox fur scarf. Daryl just dropped it off," you said. "I'm not sure why—but he said the weather's turned and—" Carol and Rosita exchanged a look and you saw it. "What? What was that look?" you asked urgently.

Rosita let out a dry laugh as if the meaning was the most obvious thing in the world. "Hey, stupid. He likes you," she said pointedly.

You stared at her. "He just knows I'm—I get cold easily..." But even you sounded unconvinced.

Carol rolled her eyes and reached for the bottle of wine again. "God, all this denial is making me sick," she joked, shooting you a look. "Daryl Dixon gifting you something he made with his own hands is the equivalent of a male peacock spreading its tail feathers. This is your signal. Earth to Y/N! Do something!"

You felt your cheeks flush. "What am I supposed to do?" you asked rhetorically.

Rosita shoved the unopened bottle of wine toward you on the table, her eyebrows lifting. "Take this over to his room in the basement with two glasses and climb in his bed," she laughed. "That should be obvious enough even for him."

"Stop..." you muttered, still flushing furiously.

Carol finished pouring more wine into her own glass. "Just do something! The man is doing his best and Lord knows he needs some help," she smiled.

Prompt: "Hey, stupid. He likes you." A/N: Fuck, this is cute. Not me wanting to write this as a whole ass fic....

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 38

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

I was rooted to the spot. Alexia noticed my distress.

"Are you okay, Ona?"

I tried to pull myself together.

"Yeah, yeah… I’ve got to head to a site now, see you later!"

I used this excuse to escape and, more importantly, to gather my thoughts—alone.  

Driving now, my mind was in turmoil. How could she do this to me? Without talking to me about it first? This couldn’t be true. Maybe the newspaper had made a mistake. It was possible, in the rush of things, for a journalist to report something incorrectly. I clung to this idea, grasping at it like a final hope. Surely, Lucy would have spoken to me about it beforehand, or at least called me last night to warn me.  

I waited for her call, struggling not to call her myself.  

On the road, my phone rang. It was Lucy.  

I pulled over to the side and answered, my throat dry.  

"Yes?"  

"Ona, did you see the paper?" she asked hurriedly.  

My heart clenched.  

"Yes… Just tell me it’s not true, Lucy."  

There was silence on the other end of the line. My hand tightened around my phone.  

"It’s not true, is it?"  

I held my breath.  

"It is, Ona. It’s true. I wanted to tell you before it came out—I didn’t think it would be front-page news today and—"  

I was furious now.  

"Damn it! How could you do this to me?"  

"Ona, we need to talk, okay? But not over the phone. Come to my place after work; I’ll be here."  

I didn’t respond.  

"Please, Ona..."  

"Fine."  

I hung up.  

To say my day was complicated would be an understatement. Concentrating on the site was nearly impossible. I was devastated, feeling utterly betrayed.  

On my way to Lucy’s that evening, I tried to calm myself down, to stay composed. I had a tendency to flare up quickly, but I needed to keep my cool and hear her out.  

When she opened the door, she gave me her best smile, but her eyes betrayed her apprehension. I couldn’t return the smile—I was cold and distant. She poured us glasses of wine, and we sat in the living room. Lucy was tense; I could feel it.  

"To your upcoming campaign!" I said sarcastically, raising my glass.  

She turned toward me.  

"Ona, I’m sorry. I had no other choice. The circumstances, the political context—"  

I cut her off, irritated by her politician tone.  

"Lucy, I’m not one of your lackeys or your council members. I’ll walk out of here if you keep talking to me with that rehearsed speech!"  

She sighed and steadied herself.  

"I was under a lot of pressure. The polls were awful, and the potential candidates themselves were scared to run. I even got calls from senior party officials, urging me to step in, saying that with the presidential elections less than two years away, we couldn’t afford to lose major cities."  

I raised an eyebrow and added sarcastically, "Lucy Bronze, savior of humanity! But surely, you must have had some idea of this two days ago—when we were talking about plane tickets! Someone must have asked you, talked to you about it!"  

"Since Luc’s accident, everything’s been moving so fast. Yes, I got calls. But I thought I could resolve the situation—until yesterday, during the meeting."  

So, the idea of running had been on her mind for days. Even if she thought she could find another solution, I felt like I’d been slapped in the face.  

"And it didn’t occur to you to talk to me about it? For example, two days ago, when we were discussing flights? God, I’m so naive and stupid…"  

"I really thought I could handle it differently, Ona. I didn’t have a choice; I had to step up and take responsibility!"  

"Without thinking about me for a single second? Without even bothering to call me yesterday?"  

She looked down.  

"I was completely overwhelmed, Ona. It was like a tidal wave—the meeting, the media—I didn’t know where I was. I’m sincerely sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I wanted to do it face-to-face."  

A long silence followed, where our gazes avoided each other. Lucy finally broke it, her voice small.  

"Ona, it doesn’t change anything…"  

"Doesn’t change anything about what?" I replied in the iciest tone.  

"About us!"  

I gave a mocking smile.  

"Oh, there’s an  us  now? Glad to hear it! So, what’s the plan? We book the flights? I imagine it’s common for newly re-elected mayors to jet off to the other side of the world! Because the goal isn’t to lose, right?"  

I didn’t give her time to answer and continued, exasperated, "And by the way, are you still divorcing? Or are you going to keep up your little facade of a family life?"  

She turned her eyes to me.  

"Stop it, Ona. Of course, I’m still divorcing."  

"And you’re obviously going to own up to our relationship, no problem at all!"  

Her clammy hands, constantly fidgeting, gave away her unease.  

"This is going to require some adjustments to our plans, I know! I won’t be able to take two months off, and we might need to take things a little slower to… to…"  

She searched for her words. I picked up where she left off.  

"To hold hands in public? To kiss in the open? To spend time with my friends, your family? How long, Lucy? Six months? Two years? Four years?"  

The tension rose as I started losing my temper.  

"I don’t know, Ona. A little more time…"  

I shrugged.  

"Great. I’ll be here, at your beck and call whenever you feel like having a good time—come get laid and then leave!"  

She straightened, as if wounded by my deliberately provocative comment.  

"Vulgarity doesn’t suit you, Ona!"  

"And your little excuses don’t suit you either! I’m 35, Lucy! I want to build something! That was our plan—to build something together!"  

I was on my feet now.  

"I know it’s difficult—it’s hard for me too."  

She stood as well, looking at me, taking my hand.  

"But I care about you, Ona. So much. I’m sorry for hurting you, for you finding out like this. I wish I’d handled it differently."  

I pulled my hand away, breaking the contact.  

"I want something solid, something lasting… And I’m really not sure you can give me that anymore."  

I turned and walked away into the falling night, my heart heavy.

[lostfirefly]

If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.

Words: 1815

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

GIF by vinnymauro

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands. 

“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”

“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese. 

“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.

“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties. 

“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly. 

“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”

“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine. 

“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass. 

“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.  

Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.

“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”

“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction. 

“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.

“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.” 

“Why me?” You look at her.  

“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”

“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?” 

You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”  

“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down. 

“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.

“And what?” The man look at you questionably. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.” 

“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey. 

“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.

“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.” 

“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned. 

“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.

“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.

“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.

“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.

“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!” 

“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter. 

You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”

“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?” 

“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.” 

“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you. 

“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip. 

“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!” 

“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled. 

“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.

“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.  

“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.

“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.  

“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?” 

“Whose name? Sister?”

“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip. 

“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.  

“Buggy.”  

“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly. 

“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.  

“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.

“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.  

“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”

You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.” 

"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?" 

“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself. 

“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.

Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?” 

“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger. 

“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly. 

“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”

“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower. 

“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back. 

He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”  

Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.

“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?” 

“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?” 

“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.” 

“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!” 

You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.

“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.  

“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?” 

“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.

“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!” 

“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip. 

“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”

“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.

“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.

“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”

"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sorry...” You answered sadly.

“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.

“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.

“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.

“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.

You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”

[moon-and2saturn]

Part Of The Band

j.t.k. x f.reader

part four

part three

word count: 6.3k

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, lots of sexually implicit language, mentions of sex, flirting, yearning, kissing, i guess some groping/heavy petting(?), shameless nicknames once again; nothing too bad this time around... for now ;)

JAKE’S POV:

She turns around and gives you a cute little wave before heading inside her front door, making your heart flutter slightly. You find yourself just staring at the closed door with a stupid smile on your face before you finally snap out of it, pulling off the shoulder of the street and driving off. You’re 27 years old, Jake. Stop acting like a teenager.

It’s still hard to believe that this is where your day had taken you. You just wanted to take a quick look at the selection at the record store after so many long, exhausting hours in meetings this morning. You hardly believed it when you saw her there; you didn’t even know it was her at first but something pulled you toward her, telling you to say something.

She looked different than she did when you met her years ago, her hair had grown out longer and she added those bangs that framed her face just right. The look in her eyes remained the same, however- focused, passionate, and kind- something that seems to have only strengthened with time. It was something that you admired about her.

You knew that you had no right to be upset with her for not reaching out, it wasn’t like you had either. When you found yourself in Anaheim four months ago, calling her did cross your mind but you were unsure that she’d answer. It had been nearly two years, surely someone would have swept her off her feet by now, loving her and giving her everything she desired.

This was something that you knew you wouldn’t be able to do. With tour picking back up, interviews, and more album production, you didn’t feel like you could give her the life that she deserved. How could you love and cherish her enough while being gone so frequently? She deserved someone who could love her wholly without compromises. You’d rather keep her at a distance than break her heart. So, you didn’t call. But it seems like fate had other plans.

You stop at a stoplight, reach into your back pocket for your phone, and pull it out. You open it up and pull up Josh’s contact, pressing call. The dial rings a few times through the speakers in the car before he picks up. “Hello?”

“Josh, hi… are you busy?” you ask. “No, I’m just at home, why? All good?” he asks with a concerned tone. “Can I come over? It’s been a weird day,” you reply, your voice a bit shaky. “Yeah, Jake. Of course,” he says. “I’m just in Midtown. I’ll be there soon.” “Okay, see you soon.”

About ten minutes later, you pull into Josh’s driveway and walk up to the front porch. You lay a few knocks on the front door and then the door flings open, revealing your kind-faced brother, smiling from ear to ear. You enter the threshold and pull him in for a hug, holding it a bit longer than you usually do.

“…Everything okay?” he asks, pulling away and walking into his kitchen, reaching into the cabinet to pull out two wine glasses. You watch him take out a bottle of Pinot Grigio from his wine rack and pour it into your glasses as you approach the kitchen and lean against the counter.

“I’m not really sure. I think it might be soon. But I’m feeling pretty lousy at the moment,” you reply as he hands you one of the glasses. “What happened?” he asks you, looking over for an answer. You take a sip, taking in a deep breath.

“I had some free time after my meetings today, so I decided to check out a record store on Broadway in Midtown that I saw on my drive back. I walked in and started to browse some of the records when I looked up and saw a head of long dark hair in front of me looking through the CDs. It felt so familiar, I couldn’t comprehend why, so I approached her to find out. It was Y/N, Josh. She’s just moved here…” you finally spit out, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. You watch as his face lights up a bit, seemingly pleased by the news.

“I see… how did that make you feel? You seem stressed… didn’t you like her?” he asks, with a subtle smile on his face. Your brother knows you better than anyone, and he can see right through you in an instant. He knows what the feeling you’re having is, but he wants you to say it and come to terms with it yourself.

“Well… of course I liked her—a lot. I just never thought I’d see her again. And now that I have… I don’t know. It’s all so overwhelming. But I’ll know how I feel better after I take her out to dinner this Friday. I guess we’re trying to start over, whatever that means. It’s been a long time, and neither of us ever reached out.”

“And why is that, Jake?” your brother asks, smirking. You scoff and roll your eyes, knowing that he's messing with you. You decide to continue the bit, checking your watch jokingly. “Josh, should I be paying you by the hour? Considering you’re behaving like my therapist.” He chuckles at that, taking a sip of his wine. “I came here to get a little drunk and tell you about my day, not for you to psychoanalyze me with your freaky twin telepathy bullshit,” you continue, laughing along with him.

The two of you stand there for a while longer, discussing the results of your meetings this morning and the plans for the album release next weekend. You knew what Josh was getting at, asking you all those questions. You’re just not quite ready to think that seriously yet. You’ve only just seen her again, after all these years, you don’t want to rush it with ideas of love and deeper feelings. Now really wasn’t the time for all of that. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

HER POV:

You spend the rest of the week working a few shifts at the record store and spending time brainstorming ideas for your novel. Nothing is really jumping out at you, though, so you’re putting the writing on hold for now. It’s finally Friday and the nerves are really getting to you. You’re not sure how this evening with Jake will go, and that scares you.

Of course, taking you out to a nice dinner will allow the two of you to get to know each other better, but what about after? And what if he isn’t the same man that he was two years ago? Will that person still be someone that you might want to spend time with? You hope so, but you suppose that you’ll find out soon.

It’s about 6:30 now, so you decide that it’s time to start getting ready. You take a shower and then blow dry your hair, styling it with a loose curl. You apply some makeup, nothing too out of the ordinary but you opt for a red lip and some mascara.

Then, you head over to your closet to pick out something to wear. It’s ridiculously hot in Nashville this weekend, so you decide on a short black sundress with little white flowers on it, which is cute enough for dinner while also allowing you to stay cool on this hot summer evening. You slip on a pair of black wedged heels, grab your keys, and then go downstairs to wait for Jake’s arrival.

You hear a light knock at the door right on time and rise from the couch to answer it. You open the door and see Jake standing there, looking down at his feet as he waits. He’s holding a bouquet of baby’s breath, fiddling with the ribbon around it with his fingers.

He’s subbed out his usual distressed blue jeans for some black dress pants, seemingly tailored to fit him just right. He has on a cream button-down, half unbuttoned as usual, with chains dangling from his neck. He’s acquired more of those since you last saw him years ago, but you’re certainly not complaining. He has on his usual black sunglasses, of course, but you can see his eyes slightly through the glass as he looks up at you.

His distracted expression turns into one of adoration as he sees you open the door. All dressed up, modest yet beautiful. Everything that he’s always known you to be. His lips curl up slightly into a small smile as he goes to speak.

“Y/N, you are an absolute vision,” he says, reaching up to brush your cheek ever-so-slightly with his thumb. He looks into your eyes for a moment before pulling back and handing you your flowers. “I saw these at a market down the street from my place this morning and they reminded me of you…”

You blush lightly as you gesture for him to step inside with you and head into the kitchen to find a vase. “They’re beautiful, Jake. Thank you. No one’s ever given me flowers before…” you say, looking over at him with a shy smile before turning around to fill the vase with water at the sink. You cut the stems slightly at the bottom before placing them into the vase and setting it on the kitchen island in the center of the room. “Perfect,” he says, smiling. “Shall we?” He reaches his hand out to yours and you take it, following him out to his car.

He opens your door for you, allowing you to get inside before closing it and rounding the car to get in as well. He turns the car on and looks over at you for a moment with a smile before pulling out onto the street. The sun is starting to set as he drives you both to the restaurant, which he says isn’t too far away. He tells you that he lives in East Nashville, so he’s taking you to his favorite Italian restaurant on that side of town.

As you look out the window to admire the beautiful night, you feel him reach over and place his hand on your bare thigh. He lightly grazes his thumb over your soft skin as he continues to drive, which makes your breath hitch in your chest for a moment.

The action, while subtle, still manages to fluster you, causing you to take a deep breath and lean your head back against the headrest. You’re still looking out the window, trying not to acknowledge it or how it makes you feel, not seeing that he has a smirk on his face. You finally arrive at the restaurant and you sigh in relief, not feeling very prepared for the night you have ahead of you.

Jake gets out of the car and walks over to your side, opening the door for you and taking your hand in his. You smile up at him as you get out of the car, and he places his hand on the small of your back as you walk to the entrance of the restaurant. As you approach the hostess stand, his hand moves from your back to your waist, holding onto you.

Your face turns a light shade of pink as he asks for a table and rubs his thumb along the fabric of your dress. He drops his hand as the hostess brings you both to the table, which is a secluded two-person booth. The table is adorned with the subtle light of a single candle and there is some dimmed lighting above, which certainly sets the romantic mood.

He sits down across from you and removes his sunglasses, setting them down on the table before glancing at the menu. You decide to look down at the menu yourself for a moment, then decide to ask him for his opinion. “What’s your favorite?” you ask, looking over to him. He lifts his head from the menu and smiles at you, answering “Well, I usually get the chicken parmesan. But the carbonara is also quite good.” You nod and smile down at the menu as the waiter approaches the table and asks for your order.

Jake looks up at you and raises an eyebrow to suggest that you go first. “I’ll take a glass of Riesling and the pasta carbonara, please,” you say to the waiter, then look over at Jake and smile timidly. “I’ll have a glass of Pinot Noir and the chicken parmesan. Thank you,” he says as the waiter writes it down and then walks back toward the kitchen. “Good choice, love,” he says to you, the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly.

You smile back timidly, softening your gaze a bit to admire him. You think to yourself that he’s never looked better, though you wouldn’t dare to tell him that now, lest you fuel his ego. He seems to notice that you’re deep in thought. “What’s on your mind?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he locks his eyes on yours. “Nothing… I think I might just be a bit nervous,” you admit, looking up at him, trying to gauge his reaction to your honesty.

The waiter comes by to drop off your wine and then heads back to the kitchen. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart,” Jake answers, taking a sip of his wine. “It’s only me,” he continues, leaning over the table slightly now to get a closer look at you as he talks. You take a deep breath and then meet his eyes. There’s a glimpse of something in them, but you can’t quite place it right now. It intrigues you, though.

“So, this new album of yours. What is it like?” you ask, bringing your hands up and crossing your fingers together, placing them on top of the table in front of you. “I have to admit that I haven’t listened to any of the singles yet, it’s been an overwhelming couple of months. Besides, a part of me wanted it to be a surprise…” He smiles at your question, seemingly eager to talk about his music. You know that it’s something he cares deeply about. If anything was a good icebreaker for the evening, this would be it.

 “If I’m honest, I think it might be our best work yet. I know that sounds like a bit of a stretch but truly, it’s spectacular. We recorded a lot of it live together in the studio and it just came together so well,” he says, practically beaming. “I really think you’ll like it. At least, I hope you will,” he continues, catching your eyes. You smile back at him and nod.

“Considering you’re so proud of it, I’m sure I’ll love it. I look forward to hearing it,” you tell him, reaching your hand over and placing it on top of his on the table. He looks down at your hand, then back up at your face as he embraces your touch and smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. “Well Y/N, now you know what I’ve been doing for the past year and a half… care to fill me in about what you’ve been up to?” he asks, still keeping his hand in yours.

“Nothing nearly as interesting. I finished school in May, finally. I couldn’t stay in LA though. I’ve lived in California my whole life, I just want to explore, you know? I’m 23, I should be taking advantage of my time while I still have it,” you tell him, looking up at him as you continue. “Being a freelance writer requires a bit more adventure than I had before. You can’t write exciting stories without living them a little, right? I’ve just been needing some inspiration.”

He dons a closed-lip smile as he nods in agreement. “Have you found it? Inspiration?” he asks, his lips turning up into more of a smirk. “That remains to be seen,” you reply, intending to tease him. You know what he’s implying with the question, but you’re not sure that you know the answer quite yet. You hope for it to be “yes,” but you won’t get ahead of yourself.

The waiter brings your food and places it on the table, encouraging you to enjoy it before leaving you both alone once again. It looks delicious and you both eat your food in comfortable silence. When you’re finished, you push your plate away slightly and look up at Jake, who’s seemingly finished as well. He pays the bill then steps out of the booth and takes your hand to help you out. As you exit the restaurant and approach his car, you stop and turn to him.

“This was an amazing dinner, Jake. Thank you for taking me here,” you say, smiling at him. He leans his back against his car as he looks down at you and caresses your cheek softly. “It was my pleasure, love. I consider myself to be quite lucky to have the privilege of your company tonight,” he says, moving his hand to cup your cheek.

“You look so beautiful, like a work of art. So delicate, makes me feel like I have to be careful or else you might shatter in my hands,” he continues, looking down at you with a subtle smile. You sigh at the feeling of his hand on your face, as though it was always meant to be there. You look up at him through your eyelashes, feeling the all too familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you meet his gaze.

He’s searching your eyes for any hesitation but he doesn’t find it, only seeing a look of adoration in them. It tells him all he needs to know before he leans down to capture your lips in his. It’s soft and sweet, unlike any time you’ve kissed him before. His thumb smooths over your cheek as his other hand falls to your waist and pulls you closer to him. You place your hands on his waist as you fall into him with a quiet hum and smile against his lips.

One of your hands travels up to grip the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his now short hair, something you still have to get used to. This elicits a low groan into your mouth as he pulls you harder against him. Before he gets carried away, he pulls out of the kiss, but still keeps his face only inches from yours as you feel his hot breath against your skin.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N. Mark my words,” he says, his face flush as he keeps his eyes on yours. He leans down to kiss your cheek softly, then places his lips on the shell of your ear and says, “I should take you home now before I lose control of myself.”

With that, he takes your hand in his and walks around the front of the car to open the door for you, allowing you to get inside. The ride home is quick, spent mostly with you still trying to catch your breath after what just happened. Before you know it, you’re in front of your house again. This time, however, Jake gets out of the car. He comes over to your side and opens the door for you, helping you out and taking your hand in his as he walks you up to your porch.

He places his hands on your waist and pulls you into him, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You smile as he pulls away, looking down at you. “We’re having a release party next Friday night at Josh’s place, just a small group of our friends and our management team… I’d really like it if you could be there. You can bring Sophie too, it’ll be fun, I promise,” he says, reaching up to push your bangs slightly out of your eyes and smiling.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you answer, causing him to smile wider. “Send me the details, we’ll be there.” You lean up to kiss his cheek before turning to unlock your front door. “Goodnight, Jake,” you say, turning around to face him. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replies before turning to walk back to his car.

You watch him walk away for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind you. You smile to yourself as you walk upstairs to your room, saying hi to Sophie before getting ready for bed.

Jake had been such a gentleman tonight, which was expected, but you can tell that he’s matured a lot since you’d last seen him. There was an aura about him now that was just so enticing and hard to resist. It excites you, this feeling of desire, but it could also prove to be quite dangerous. You try to remind yourself to be careful with your heart before you give it away again so freely.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The rest of the weekend and the beginning of the week pass by quickly, between working a few shifts at the record store and spending time with Sophie during her time off. The party is in two days and you’re starting to feel slightly nervous. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to fit in with their friends, or even what the nature of your relationship with Jake even is. Are you going to this party as his date or just a guest? What do the rest of the guys know about it? All these questions will soon be answered, of course, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

You opened the store today, working until the mid-afternoon. It’s only you and Iris at the moment and business has been pretty slow. You’re just leaning against the counter scrolling mindlessly on your phone when you hear the bells ring on the front door. You look up to acknowledge the customer walking in, trying to look as though you were doing something productive. Much to your surprise, you are met with Josh Kiszka’s face beaming at you as he approaches the counter.

“I was told I might find you here,” he says proudly. “Josh, hi! I see you’ve spoken to Jake,” you reply, going around the counter to speak to him. “I have. Come here!” he says, opening his arms to embrace you. You wrap your arms around his torso and hug him, placing your head on his shoulder as he squeezes his arms tightly around you. “It’s been too long, darling.” He pulls away and looks you up and down with a smile.

“Look at you! I just love what you’ve done with your hair. You look like one of Charlie’s angels, absolutely gorgeous,” he says, causing your cheeks to turn a shade of pink. Josh always had a certain way of describing things that no one else in the world does.

You take a moment to look at him. He’s changed his hair as well; what used to be a full head of curly hair was now shaved bare at the sides, leaving just a small section in the middle going down to the back of his neck. His rosy cheeks are adorned with a few little white dots that lift upward as he smiles.

He’s wearing a patterned button-down with a white t-shirt underneath and khaki pants, which isn’t much different than the style you knew him to have before, just a little more elevated as the years went on. His perfectly white Vans complement the outfit and make it very him. Most of all, he looks happy. Not that he didn’t before, but he especially does now.

“Oh, stop it, Josh. You look fantastic- not that I expected anything less,” you answer with a soft smile. “Did you just want to stop in to say hello? Or did you come here for something else?” you ask.

“Ah, well when my brother told me you were here, I had to check for myself to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He’s rather off his rocker these days, y’know?” he chuckles to himself. You laugh with him, answering “I see. Well, luckily for him, I am very much actually here.”

“Lucky for me, too! With all the press for the album release and the endless tour rehearsals, the only people I ever see these days are the guys, it’s been dreadfully boring. But now I’ll have you to keep me company. You’re like a breath of fresh air, my dear,” he says, smiling wide. “Here, let me give you my cellphone number. Utterly useless thing but alas, I suppose we need it on occasion.”

You hand him your phone and he puts in his contact information, sending himself a message to save yours. He hands you your phone back and then takes his own out of his back pocket, opening your message and saving you into his contacts. “Sadly, I have to run. This visit was rather spontaneous. I was on my way to a meeting just down the road with my brothers and our managers, which I remember was supposed to start 20 minutes ago… Oops. Oh well. I’ll see you on Friday, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you reply with a smile, giggling at the lack of concern he had for his tardiness. “Perfect. See you then, angel. Bring wine! Lots and lots of it!” he exclaims as he walks out the door. You laugh as he walks out the door, seeing him start to jog a little bit out the window toward his car.

What a nice surprise, you think. He certainly knows how to brighten up a person’s day. You’re looking forward to spending more time to get to know him. One of your coworkers comes in to relieve you, so you clock out and head home. It was your last shift before what you assume is going to be a very long weekend.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You awake on Friday feeling refreshed from your day off yesterday. Surprisingly, your usual feelings of nervousness are absent today, replaced with only excitement. You and Sophie went shopping yesterday for dresses to wear to the party since events like album release parties are very out of the ordinary for you both. You weren’t entirely sure what the dress code was, but you wanted to look your best.

You looked into the album and its concept, still opting to not listen to the singles in hopes of having an unbiased experience of the album this evening when they play it start-to-finish. Its name, Starcatcher, was already beautiful in and of itself. You can only imagine how it must sound and you’re really looking forward to it.

In hopes of fitting in with the theme, you picked out a silver matte midi dress with a slit on your right leg, to pair with a pair of black heels. Sophie picked out a deep blue cocktail dress that complimented her equally blue eyes quite well. Before you know it, it’s time to get ready to go to the party. Jake texted you the address yesterday and said to arrive any time after 6 P.M.

He also tells you that Josh asked him to remind you to bring wine, which made you laugh. You picked out a nicer bottle of Chardonnay at Publix this morning, hoping that it will suffice since you’re still unfamiliar with their preferences and the expectations for this kind of event.

You apply your base makeup and then put on some light silver eyeshadow to complement your dress, as well as tight eyeliner and mascara. You leave your hair down and wavy, pinning some of the front pieces back to keep them out of your face. You finally slip on your dress and heels then meet Sophie downstairs and head out to the car.

Josh’s place isn’t too far from where you live, only about a 15-minute drive. Sophie pulls into his driveway and parks behind a long line of cars, and then the two of you approach the front porch. You knock on the door and you’re greeted by Josh’s smiling face. “Ah! My angel! Thank god you’re here,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Sophie, my darling, it’s nice to see you. And you’ve brought wine! I knew I could count on you. Come in!” He leads you both through the threshold and into the kitchen, where there are different arrangements of charcuterie and other finger foods spread out on the kitchen island. He takes you over to his bar cart and wine rack and then reaches over to the counter next to it and grabs a few wine glasses for you.

He reaches out to Sophie to take the wine from her, taking a glance at the label first before opening it. “Lovely choice of wine, angel. My favorite,” he says to you with a wink before using a wine opener to take out the cork and pour you both a glass before pouring one for himself. “To new music and new beginnings!” he says, raising his glass. “To new beginnings,” you answer, with a timid smile as the three of you clink your glasses together and take a sip.

You look up from your glass and see Sam and Danny approaching from the dining room, noticing that Sam’s face lights up when he catches sight of you. “Y/N, I can’t believe you’re here!” he exclaims, coming over to hug you. “You know, I’ve seen all of your pictures with your new look but I still can’t believe it,” you say, reaching up to touch his scruffy beard.

“You better believe it, I’m a man now,” Sam says proudly, chuckling to himself as Danny pipes in. “Yeah, right. On the outside, maybe” he jokes, elbowing Sam’s side and eliciting laughs from the group of you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, leaning over to give you a hug, then pulls back and turns his attention to Sophie. “Sophie… still as gorgeous as ever, of course.” She blushes faintly at his compliment and you giggle a bit to yourself as you watch him look down to admire her outfit. His eyes go back up to meet hers and you take that moment to excuse yourself and allow them to talk.

“I’m going to go find Jake,” you say to them, “Soph, are you good staying here with the guys?” She nods and Daniel takes your spot as you turn around and walk toward the living area where there’s an old jazz record playing on the turntable.

You see Jake there, standing and leaning against the side of the couch speaking with someone you assume works with them. As you approach, it seems like he sees you in his periphery and turns to look at you, his lips turning into a subtle smile. He licks his lips and looks down at your dress, then back up at you, making your stomach turn into knots.

He’s dressed in entirely black- a vest underneath a blazer, dress pants, and his usual black boots. His chest is peeking out of the vest in the same way it always does with his button-downs. He replaced his usual many necklaces with one small coin pendant, a subtle difference but quite classy. The all-black outfit paired with his short dark hair is enough to make your knees buckle and the look he’s giving you now certainly doesn’t help the matter.

You watch as he says something to whoever he’s talking to and gestures over to you, and then the gentleman walks away toward the dining room. You finally reach him and he straightens his posture a bit against the couch to talk to you. “Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly get more beautiful, you’ve proved me wrong once again. You look positively stunning, sweetheart, I’m at a loss for words.”

He places his hands on your waist and pulls you toward him, leaning down to kiss your cheek and then you feel his lips linger at your ear. “If I could have my way, I would bring you far away from here right now… how unfortunate that we have to stay here. I guess we’ll just have to behave, huh baby?” he whispers, then pulls away slightly and flicks his eyes from your glossy lips back up to your eyes.

Your cheeks turn pink as you smile up at him, trying not to show how much his words are affecting you. “What about you, Mr. Dark and Mysterious? You look like an Oxford professor,” you tease, gesturing to his vest with a smirk. “Ah yes, this old thing? Well, I was a professor once, you know, in an old life,” he says, straightening out his vest a bit and smiling at you. “Whatever you say, Jake,” you say, giggling at him.

You spend the remainder of the night at Jake’s side, standing with him as he talks to his colleagues and friends about the album. You enjoy listening to him talk about something he felt so passionate about, it makes you happy seeing him in his element. It’s nearing the end of the night now, which means it’s time for them to play the album before you all depart.

You and Jake are seated on the couch together with Sophie, Danny, and Sam on the couch next to you. You have one leg crossed over the other with Jake’s hand resting on your knee softly. The rest of the crowd is standing around in the back of the living room or talking in the dining room.

Josh walks over to the record player and takes out his brand-new Starcatcher vinyl, which is black and decorated with speckles of silver glitter. He places it down and moves the needle delicately to the start of the album before turning around to sit down next to you on the couch. The first notes of the song start and you look over at Jake and smile, seeing him beaming with pride.

The album really is spectacular, just as Jake said. Each song tells a story that is so profound and the production is truly amazing. At the end of it, Josh gets up to put the record away and then turns around to address everybody. “So? Thoughts?” he says with a smile. The room erupts into applause and he gets his answer, returning to sit back down next to you.

“That was… wow. You were right, Jake, it was just perfect. I loved it,” you say with a smile, looking over at him and you see his smile widen at your words. “Thank you, baby…” he says, squeezing your knee in his hand. “And Josh, your vocals were just out of this world. It was wonderful,” you continued, turning to face him. He thanks you and then people start to say their goodbyes and leave for the night.

Sophie stands to say goodbye to the guys and says she’ll wait for you in the car with a wink, knowing you’d want to say goodbye to Jake privately. You nod and turn back around to say your goodbyes. “Well, this has been lovely. It was nice to see you all! Josh, thank you for having me, I hope we can do this again soon,” you say, turning to Josh. He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, nodding. “Of course, darling. I’ll see you very soon, I’m sure of it.” You pull back from him and turn to Jake with a timid smile.

“I’ll walk you out,” he says, placing his hand on the small of your back. He follows you over to the foyer, allowing for the two of you to be somewhat alone. He pulls you in by your waist and smiles down at you. “Thank you for being here, love. It means a lot to me. You’re my good luck charm, remember?”

“Anything for you. You know that,” you say, smiling up at him. He moves his hand up to cup your cheek and leans down to kiss you softly, smiling against your lips. He pulls away and keeps his hand on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “The tour is starting up on Monday, here in Nashville. I need my lucky charm there. Will you come?” he asks, looking down at you hopefully. “Of course I’ll come, Jake,” you answer, reaching up to tuck a piece of his hair back behind his ear.

He smiles widely. “I’ll text you the details about where to go this weekend, I can call Jenn in the morning and have her set aside two tickets for you. You can sit side-stage by the catwalk, right where I can see you.” You nod and he opens the front door for you, then leans against it to give you another kiss goodbye before you turn around and walk toward your car.

The ride home is full of lots of questions and squeals of excitement from Sophie. You have some questions of your own, asking about her time spent talking to Danny this evening. You’re overcome with a feeling of excitement and anticipation over this new era for the band, and for yourself.

You’re not sure what the implications of tonight and Monday will be for your relationship with Jake, but you know that you can hardly get enough of him. His energy and kindness consume you completely, pulling you in and making it impossible for you to let go. There was something about him that you just couldn’t resist. The dynamic you have now makes you feel extremely flustered and nervous, so you fear the intensity of what might come next. You suppose you will find out soon…

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

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[g0kotta]

What’s your favourite scary movie?

Ghostface!Geto x f!reader

Your ex was always a bit weird, but you still loved him. After breaking up you went to your first halloween party with your friends. What could go wrong?

Warnings: death, blood, horror?, crazy Geto, swearwords, maybe a tiny bit suggestive? Geto is an asshole.

Around 1.6k words

English is not my first language and I did not re-read this. Spelling mistakes?

You stand in front of the bedroom mirror looking at yourself. The costume fit you well, hugging all the right spots. You’ve never looked hotter. Shoko, your friend which somehow managed to drag you into this mess, whistled behind you.

“You look good.” she smirked as she took out the last cigarette from her beat down box that looked like it was run over by that stupid bus that takes you to university. “You should put on those white thigh high socks and then I’ll spray you with some blood.”

“Hopefully it’s fake.” you roll your eyes and smirk at the med student. “I don’t want any of your study rat’s blood on me.”

“You’ll find out afterwards.” Shoko says sarcastically and leaves the room while the smell of cigarettes stays right there with you and travels all the way to her room.

You let out a sigh as you fix your cheerleader uniform and then walk up to a drawer, starting to look for those white thigh high socks. You hum a tune as you finally take them out, putting them on and then on top of them you put on your worn out converses that you don’t mind spraying with fake blood. Shoko steps back in the room and before you can even react you feel something cold, wet and sticky splash onto your body.

“What the fuck, Shoko?!” You squeal as you turn to look at your friend. She was already standing there with the biggest grin and then you feel more of the substance hitting your body. “Bitch!?”

She just laughs.

“Finally you look perfect.” She says and takes the last hit of her cigarette before putting it out in an ashtray you left for her in your room. You bought it when you went to Paris with your ex. You grimace at the memory and shake your head.

“Gojo is coming with us.” She says as she looks at her phone. Funnily enough, she was a bloody nurse for halloween. Said it was an easy costume as she already had all of the clothes she’ll never use again from previous years.

“Will he be there?” You ask with a slight tone to your voice.

“Don’t know. Gojo didn’t say and I didn’t ask.” She shook her shoulders and took you by your hand. “C’mon let’s go. Gojo’s waiting outside.”

“Already?” You raise an eyebrow as you follow her out.

-

The same second you stepped into the party, Gojo was already gone. He was dressed up as Jack Frost and you only rolled your eyes as he ran after the first hot girl he saw. Shoko on the other hand stayed with you for a while but then left to look for someone who had cigarettes and wanted to share. So you were left all alone standing in the stupid party you didn’t even want to come to.

You saw a few familiar faces here and there, no one you were too close with. Though it was quite okay. At least you weren’t stuck in your room, depressing over your ex-boyfriend.

You fix your skirt as you take a step towards the kitchen. Your throat was dry and you wanted another beer. As you walk into the kitchen the music dims down behind you. Whoever was throwing this party was rich. Everything was neat and expensive. Even the fridge was way bigger than necessary. You smirk as you notice the note on the fridge informing you that instead of ice, there was wine in there. You take a glass and pour yourself some. But before you can take a sip something stops you. A sound. A scream.

Someone was screaming out of pain. Your eyebrows furrow as you slowly get closer to the door. Was that just a part of this party? After all it was halloween. But before you can check it out, someone touches your shoulder and you drop the wine. You let out a scream and turn around to see Gojo towering over you with the biggest smirk.

“You asshole!” You point a finger at his chest while he just laughs.

“You should’ve seen your face! It was so funny.” He wipes off tears from his eyes. “I should’ve taken a-“ suddenly he goes quiet and his eyes widen.

“Satoru?” You ask softly before looking down at his stomach. It was bloody. And the blood spot was getting bigger while something sharp was sticking out. Suddenly it was removed and Gojo opens his mouth for a second. But all that could be heard was a gurgling sound. Blood spills out of his mouth and his body goes limp, falling onto the floor. Once where was his body, stood a tall masked and hooded figure.

Without a word you start running as fast as you could. As you leave the room you see more dead bodies laying around as people try to leave the house, boarding the doors and pushing each other. You start running towards the stairs to the second floor. Maybe you could jump out the window. It wasn’t the safest plan but there was no other option. You heard your shoes hit the floor as you run up the stairs, opening doors of random rooms. You see a big window in one and you smile in victory as you run to it. You start opening it and then look down. It was quite a fall but you’d survive. Maybe strain something or break a bone in the worst case scenario. Or in the best one, after all you don’t want death.

One of your legs go through the window, but before you could jump someone grabs onto your hair and pulls you back. You let out a terrifying scream out of fear and pain and feel something sharp next to your throat. You try not to squirm too much as the sharp tip of the blade was touching your neck.

“Hey.” A deep voice that sounded robotic says. “What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“I don’t watch scary movies.” You answer in a whisper, too scared to move.

“You have a boyfriend, beautiful?”

“Why is this how you want to ask me out on a date?” You spit the words out this time in a panic, thinking about Shoko. Was she dead? Did she manage to get out? Suddenly Gojo’s dead body lingers in your mind and tears well up in your eyes.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” He asks again getting closer to your ear.

“No.”

He throws you onto the bed and laughs. His gloved hand grabs onto the end of the mask and pulls it up. And suddenly you’re met with the brown eyes your so familiar with. They’re wide with lust and adrenaline as he looks at you with a big creepy smile. If none of this was happening - you would think he looks quite hot. But now you’ve never been more scared of your ex.

“Awe. You never looked for anyone else. So cute. Such a good girl.” He smirks as he steps closer to you.

“Y-you.. You killed Gojo?” You couldn’t believe it. Why would Geto kill his own best friend?

“He was getting too close to you for my liking.” Suddenly he pressed the blade into your thigh, slashing it a bit and staining your white thigh highs with more blood. This time though, it wasn’t fake. You let out a whine out of pain and he shuts you up with a kiss. “You belong to me. Don’t you ever forget that.” He whispers into your lips and brings the knife to your throat.

“Please.. Please don’t kill me.” You ask while tears fall down your face and he just chuckles wiping them off. His hands were stained with blood and while touching you he was also staining you with the blood of your innocent friends.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” He grins. The tip of the blade reaches your shirt and he starts cutting it open. “Y’wanna know why I killed them all?” He hums. “Because I fucking hated them. I hated them all. Stupid monkeys.. So filthy and stained by the world. And I hate you too. Oh you have no idea how much I fucking hate you.”

“Suguru..” you let out a chocked sob.

“Shh.. shut up.” He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks making your lips pout. “You’re so pretty, but so fucking dumb. If you-“

Sirens of police were heard outside and Geto smirks as he steps away.

“If you tell anyone. I’ll kill every single person you love. And then.. I’ll kill you.” He puts his mask down and the robotic voice is back again. “By the way.. You look so hot in that costume.”

And then he’s gone again as you lay in the bed all alone and bloody, crying.

Extra:

You were laying on the couch in the living room. It’s been a few weeks after the incident. Shoko was safe. She was the one who called the police as she was outside for quite a while, smoking a cigarette. Now she was in school as you were left at home alone.

The phone rang and you lazily picked it up.

“Hello?” You say softly, as you were laying really comfortable and almost falling asleep.

“(Y/N). What’s your favourite scary movie?”

[menacinmasochist]

SHU X YUI ( but yui in maid dress , thank you)❤️❤️

Yui’s POV:

I woke up and I wasn’t in my room, I wasn’t in any room that looked familiar to me, walking over to the window I noticed that I was still in the Sakamaki estate…how strange. I noticed there weren’t any light switches in this room, I looked over at the table and noticed a candle barely lit, so I took it and opened the door peering into the hallway, it looked so strange, usually it was more macabre but it just looked so different. I swear this was the same hallway I ran down when I first came to this manor…

I peered down and noticed I was wearing a maid uniform..maybe this was a prank or something? This was so weird, more than usual, what was actually going on? I creep into the hallway and notice a woman wearing a maid outfit as well “what are you doing? The masters are coming back for dinner we have to set the table let’s go” she said in a rushing manner, I wonder what she meant by masters? I had no choice in the matter and had to follow her.

We hurry into the kitchen and then set up the table, I basically just copied everything she did. “Um who are the masters?” I ask her after we finish setting up, she stares at me with such confusion then laughs a bit “ahh perhaps you’re the new maid, I wasn’t sure you work so diligently, the masters are the Sakamaki brothers, they have recently started living in this estate” she explains, now I was more confused. “I thought they have been here for quite a while…” I say, “well they have been here for a few months” she replies, “no way, they made it seem like centuries” I comment back. “Haha, no no it’s only 1799” she says..1799 like the year?! I traveled back in time?? This must be a dream…

The door swings open and all the Sakamaki brothers assemble in their seats, they all looked the same just different attire, I noticed Shu specifically..he looked like a prince. “Do not stare at them, rumor has it they have unsatisfiable appetites.” The maid whispers to me, believe me I knew that. “We must begin to serve them, follow my lead” she tells me and I do as she says. I couldn’t help it but I kept looking at Shu, it was so strange to see him without his headphones. He still seemed very cold. The maid handed me a bottle filled with deep red liquid I don’t think this was wine…but anyway I started to fill up each of their goblets, “and who’s this cute little maid? I haven’t seen you before” Laito stated he snaked his hand around my waist and pulled me into his lap. “Laito, this isn’t appropriate behavior.” Reiji scolded, I quickly got off of him and thanked Reiji. Then continued pouring into their goblets, when I got to Shu I don’t know why but I got very nervous and spilled a bit on him. “I’m so sorry” I began apologizing and bowing, he just stared at me with his cold eyes…”um Shu your shirt is stained…” I say, and everyone gasped and starred at me. The maid ran to me and apologized “I’m so sorry master she’s new she did not mean to address you so causally..” she began to say bowing, I was confused what did I say? “She’s rather insolent…not that I care but I do need a new linen, come with me” he ordered, I did as he wished.

We went upstairs to his room, he ordered me to go through his closet and take out a fresh linen shirt, I handed it to him and he scoffed. “I understand you’re new but you can’t be that stupid…” he says, I think Shu has always been the same it seems. He told me he wanted me to undress, so I did as he wished. I couldn’t help but blush, his torso looked so nice and strong. “You’ve got wandering eyes..like what you see?” He says, smirking slightly, then closes his eyes. “I’m tired…don’t want to go back there…if I discipline you it would be an excuse not to go back…” he expresses, I look at him and tilt my head a bit, confused. His hand shoots and grabs my neck. “Shu please..let go” I gasp out, he squeezes harder.

“Are you purposefully ignoring the formalities..? Are you trying to become intimate with me..?” He questions. In our normal time period I call him shu all the time, he’s kissed me and done other things to me before, I guess since I time traveled it made sense that none of those things would matter. “No..I’m just confused is all” I tell him honestly. “I’ll give you some clarification..take off your clothes” he says, his voice was deadly serious. I hesitated, “shouldn’t we go back to dinner..everyone’s wai-“ I began to say but he cut me off by tugging at the hemline of the uniform, tearing it off completely, I was fully nude..did people in the 1700s not wear underwear?? How embarrassing. I tried covering myself but he laughed.

“Your chest truly is pathetic…but your bottom is quite nice, yes your legs too..” he comments and cups my butt cheek. Rubbing it, then slapping it hard. The sting felt nice…I looked back to see the redness from his handprint. “Looking back like that…you do want to get intimate, you’re a slutty maid…alright I’ll give you what you want, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fucked you low class humans” his insults seem to be even more offensive in this time period. “I don’t want to..” I tell him, he chuckles at this. “You’re in no position to make any demands of me..I’m your master” he states, then proceeds to push me down on my stomach, he parts my legs and I feel his hard member go inside of me..Shu would usually kiss me or finger me beforehand…this was so strange, he still felt the same, his rhyme was more fast, he seemed to have a little more energy now. He pulled my hair back, leaning forward he licked my shoulder blade then bit it, I moaned out I missed Shu’s fangs…”aah..shu I love your fangs” I say it was a habit at this point I couldn’t help it…his fangs made me lose my mind completely, when he bit into me like this it feels like no other feelings matter, just his fangs sinking deeply into me. He pulls out and lays down on the bed then motions his hands for me to come on top and ride him, I gladly did so, riding him slowly the way he loves it.

His hands went down from my chest to my waist. He held onto my waist and started to push up and rode him, I kept moaning out his name and how much I desired him, I wanted shu to call out my name and hold me the way he usually does but I knew this wasn’t the shu that knew me. And so once we finished he threw me off of him, literally kicking me out of his room, if this was my time period Shu, we would lay down and cuddle against each other, I know I shouldn’t be crying but I can’t help it, I need to go back or wake up from this strange dream…

[zelphin124]

LCB-3: Chapter 18

I've said it once and will say it again! Be emotionally prepared, for this hits home if you like Jatayu. Chapter 19 is the predicted last chapter! Woohoo! Masterpost Chapter 17 <--> Chapter 19

~o0o~

“Let’s head out,” Mark pressed after Mallo and Dante returned inside. He glanced at Lenore. “You stalked up on wine, yeah?” 

“Yeah, it might be useful,” Lenore lifted a drink. “And it’s good.” 

“No one else has to hear about it. There’s some clause in our contract about drinking on the job, but who cares?” Mark smirked, taking a sip himself. 

“It builds up me.” 

“What are you, a robot?” 

“I’m usually on fire a lot of the time,” Lenore explained. “Which seems to worsen when I have a lot of cocktails. I’m curious to see its effects on me in combat, good or bad.” 

The conversation was mostly Lenore continuing it, with Mark trying to dismiss the small talk and get on with climbing the spire until Dante joined. 

“I’m not going to rat anyone out for drinking,” Dante shrugged. “But, in that case, shall we head up?” 

“We got nothing better to do,” Mark implied. 

Lenore grabbed the manager’s attention. “I do apologize if I explode.” 

Mark furrowed his eyes. “Don’t use the ID, then.” 

“I mean with the sin feathers collecting on my back.” 

“Oh, fair enough.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want extra?” Dante asked. 

Hyde flipped her head to watch them from the counter. More? We want more explosions even after—she inhaled a deep breath and turned back around. You know what? I will not deal with this stupidity right now. 

“Won’t that just make me blow up faster?” Lenore countered. 

“Better now than when we are facing an actual threat.” 

“I would need lots of feathers for it to reach an explosion point.” 

“It takes about twelve before they go haywire,” Mark added. 

“I guess I should’ve thought more carefully about it,” Lenore shrugged. 

Their conversation continued, but Hyde decided it was not worth her time to tune into any more of it. She spun in her seat before resting her elbow on the counter. Glancing up at the bartender, she raised an eyebrow. I could go for something to numb my pain right now. “What’s the best drink you got?” 

Her mandating tone caught his attention. The faded man turned around to face her. “Ah! Shynei! Where is Gerald? I thought he accompanied you.” 

Hyde’s stare hardened. “With the others,” she lied. 

“Very well! What kind of drink would you like? Some soda, water, or sweet tea?” Karna smiled softly, putting the bottle of liquor in his hand out of sight. 

Does this guy take me for a weak drinker? Hear my question, bartender. “What’s your favorite drink?” She repeated it in the most chill tone she could muster. 

“A good, long, hard vodka." The bartender eyed her carefully as he poured a glass and slid it over toward Hyde. 

Hyde took the small glass and downed it like a water shot in one sip, not making a face. Dull. “Got anything harder?” She lifted the glass with her hand as if it were useless to her. 

Before the concerned bartender could speak, Mark strolled over and spoke up. “Gotta try one of them fireballs; it hits right on the spot.” 

Jekyll nudged Hyde. Try that. If anyone would know good taste in wine, it would be Mark. 

Karna smiled. “Old friend, welcome back. I have your favorite for you.” 

“This is everyone’s favorite to your memory,” Mark glanced down at the fahoola served to him. “You don’t actually know us.” 

Karna did not reply. 

Mark leaned over to face Hyde casually. “Ignore him; he’s a figmented memory, and he cannot register us as new people.” 

Hyde nodded slowly before knocking on the counter, grabbing the man’s attention again. “Hey, lemme have one of those fireballs.” 

There was a moment of silence as Mark stood there, staring at her for a moment. Karna simply did as he was told and slid a fireball drink in Hyde’s direction right into her hands. The bartender scooted away, letting them be. 

“Is there anything more you can do to make you two stand apart from one another?” The prisoner asked, leaning on one of the support panels of the bar. 

Hyde took the fireball and leaned back in her chair, resting her elbow on the back of the seat, and lifted her foot onto her knee. She tilted her head and gestured to him. “Any ideas?” 

“Well, Jekyll is a lot more passive and calm,” Mark began his tone in a friendly manner, one similar to the one that Hyde had to dig through the first time they met. “She’s someone you can talk to without getting under her skin,” he offered a smile as his passive-aggressiveness came to light. 

Hyde downed the drink, feeling the kick. She sat the glass aside and frowned, staring right at Mark’s eyes with no wavering soul. If you wanted to insult me, I expected more from you. She nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“Versus you. You are the more aggressive one who cannot get along with others. I don’t know; maybe if you put on like a paper crown when you are fronting or whatever, that might help.” Mark’s tone was just friendly enough to hide his intentions of poking at her buttons. 

However, Hyde only tilted her head to the side. You’re lucky. I quite enjoy watching you and your silly temperament. 

Is he stupid? Jekyll raised an eyebrow. We have the hair and the monocle and—

Hyde shrugged. We are under no obligation to please him. He doesn’t have to like us. Nor do we have to cater to his request. Her expression took no offense to Mark’s words, and she replied calmly. “I think the monocle should be enough.” She glanced the prisoner up and down, indicating that was her final answer. 

Mark stared for a bit as if something about the response struck him oddly. He snapped out of it and gestured for Hyde to get up. “Let’s go then, Hyde,” he cracked a smirk and finger-gunned Karna. “See you next time, bartender.” 

Karna lifted his hand with a bright smile. “Hey, until next time!” He replied cheerfully. 

Hyde slowly got out of her seat, shaking her head as the wine kicked in. She made her steps carefully out of the bar before joining the rest of the party up the fifth floor. 

They walked along the path silently, with Dante being the only one to talk to the party as they continued upward. Mallo kept a fair distance away from Hyde, with Mark and Lenore as a buffer between the two. 

The floor quickly evened out as the plateau smoothed over the path. The party slowed and looked at their surroundings, trying to find anything remotely familiar. 

…You’ve been here before. Jekyll glanced through Hyde’s memories and found a very similar landscape. 

Yes. Hyde glanced around at every sound, gripping her paintbrush. That distortion is around here somewhere. I’d rather not face it again. 

We might have to, Jekyll shuddered as she watched the memory of Hyde falling off the spire. It seems it morphs the peccatulum together. Just... don’t fall off again. 

Not the plan, Hyde glanced around. Her instincts were on alert. She knew she was being watched. That horrible stare was all too familiar. The distortion was close, watching all of the party carefully, but it was nowhere in sight. 

Before them lay the same bar from the last two floors. The only difference was the bar was on fire, burning to a crisp in front of their eyes. The billowing, blazing flames scorched the windows and whatever was surrounding them. The smell of burning corpses rose in the air, and a ghastly silhouette of a figure could be seen in the building. It was burnt and charred with heat, screaming a horrendous cry endlessly as it withered in pain, trapped in the windows. 

However, no one in the party moved to help. They sat there, observing the scene. Some of them realized there was nothing they could do; others couldn’t care less to help the poor soul. 

Around the bar, corpses of monsters lay at rest, their blood coloring the ground in various puddles. There were a few demon syndicates and ordeals scattered among the dead victims as well. Hyde recognized the corpses she had slain under newer ones, and it sent shivers down her spine. A dormant creature lay in front of the bar’s door, unscathed, unarmed, and at rest. 

Dante sighed. “I don’t like the look of this. Something went wrong... This… This is why Niskakara called Jatayu the Burner of Surya, isn’t it?” 

Hyde clicked her tongue quietly, leaning on her hip as she observed the situation. He only burned a building. That’s it? He got so upset over something as little as that? 

As if it were on cue, the world once more shifted to the black-and-white colors of Jatayu’s memory. 

A familiar, recognizable engineer sat inside the building, which was no longer on fire. He was hard at work, fidgeting with objects in his hands. It was clear renovations were being made to the building. The memory of Jatayu toiled late in the night as he was preparing for something. Sounds of stretches and sparks were heard as he installed something into the bar. 

The party slowly moved into the bar, or at least some of them. Lenore and Mark stayed outside, while Mallo and Hyde walked in after Dante. Hyde watched Jatayu carefully. He almost looked real. It was clear that whatever was in his hands was something akin to P. Corp’s singularity. The oddity of the situation was how Jatayu was doing it alone. There was no team to assist him. 

Footsteps were heard behind the group in the bar. Hyde turned her head to see the older brother entering slowly, concern the biggest emotion on his expression. “Ah, Jatayu. I thought I’d see you here.” 

The engineer looked up. “Mm? Sampati? It’s quite late. What are you doing here?”

Sampati approached slowly. “Looking for you, brother. It’s getting close to the Night in the Backstreets time. It won’t be safe for you to work right now.”

"Oh, that. Worry not... I will be fine. I am nearly finished here, and even if I am not, the door remains locked for the Sweepers. Ah... you may want to... uh... lock the door, seeming as you came in. Just in case.”

Sampati nodded slowly before turning around, phasing through Mallo as he locked the door. He gripped his fingers on the handle for a moment, taking a deep breath. It was as if he was composing himself before he approached his younger brother. “Jatayu. Do you... uh... got a minute?” 

“Huh?” It took a moment for Jatayu to stop his work. He placed his tools on a table gently and turned to give his full attention to his brother. “Of course. Always, for you. Oh, how is Sita doing?”

The older brother cracked a smile. "Hehe. Sita is just fine; you saw her just yesterday.”

“You know that I always want to make sure she’s okay; I would have thought you’d come to expect that! Besides, you forget that I only saw her after being away for months trying to expand the Nest’s borders towards Kollam, to noticeable improvement. ”

“I know, I know. You care a lot... but that's partially why I’m here.” His words caused Jatayu to raise an eyebrow, but he took a deep breath and continued. “You’ve been very, very hard at work, Jatayu. You... you hardly get out anymore. I haven’t seen you in four months.”

Jatayu’s face deadpanned. “I was working on the Shelter technology, improving it. You know this.”

“I know, I know, just... let me talk.”

“...My apologies, Sampati.” Jatayu lowered his head, which did nothing to help the growing tension in the room. 

Sampati stood straighter, adjusting his posture. “You’ve been away for so long. I get it, I know. Wing business is important business; you are trying to... make the whole backstreets safer, working through all sorts of legal loopholes with the city to try and make it work, that I’d never be able to understand.” He paused, leaning his hand on the back of a chair, staring towards the tools on the table. “You’ve given me this gift; it’s kept me safe for so long. Saved my life so many times. You’ve done so much for Kollam, Jatayu. You are making a genuine effort to make this world somewhat better, and it’s working, to some extent. Infinitely better than most, and what I could dream to do.”

The younger brother was not convinced by his flattery. “This... this feels like you are building up to something negative.”

It was clear Sampati was struggling to tiptoe over the subject. "You’ve done all of this, but... you are..." He cursed, giving up. “You’re neglecting yourself.”

“Hm? That’s all…?”

“I’ve heard from Lahkshama how you are within your office: staying cooped up for days on end. You are getting food given to you by others because you can’t leave your workshop. I was told you were avoiding sleep at night just to work on things that could blow up in your face.”

Jatayu tilted his head. “Sampati, what is this?”

“Now, Kollam is suddenly getting a surge of new equipment for upgrades to its technology, for free, and is constantly being worked on by no crews.” The older brother continued as Jatayu nodded slowly. “It’s easy to figure out that you are the cause of it, Jatayu. I’m just worried for your sake, is all; that you are... maybe working a bit too hard... you might need to take a break.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Jatayu shrugged lightly, not taking his brother’s words seriously. He turned back to his work, grabbing a tool with his hands and feeling its tip to identify which one it was. “I can’t do that, Sampati. There’s too much work to be done; this place needs to be made safer.”

The first look of frustration crossed Sampati’s face. “But why? You already did that years ago!”

“The technology is outdated. Ever since I became Head Manager of the Architecture Department, there’s always been more and more innovation that’s made to be better, stronger, and safer. I’ll likely need to return to these buildings in a few years to redo the fortifications.”

“Fortifications from what?!” Sampati slammed his hand on the chair, not causing too much of a ruckus, but it was clear he was getting worked up. “Who could possibly ever threaten this place? Your technology is good enough as is, Jatayu; you’re overworking yourself, and it’s beginning to show. You need to stop and rest. You’ve done enough good work; why not rest? Hang out with your niece more! Find someone to settle down with and have a family of your own! Even just... be with your brother more..." He trailed off, looking to the floor as he heaved a sigh. 

The younger brother paused his work, slowly glancing over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Are you... getting upset with me about trying to make sure that my home village is safe?” He set down his tools and slowly approached his older brother, his voice raising with each word as if the topic kicked a nerve in his brain. “Are you getting upset with me because I want to make sure that my family is safe?”

“No. That’s not what I’m upset over, Jatayu!”

“Then what is it? Why are you getting upset at me?”

“Because I don’t want you to get yourself hurt doing something dangerous!” Sampati huffed as he stared down at Jatayu, stoically standing. “I made a promise that I would never let you get hurt, Jatayu. We made that promise. That we’d do all in our power to make sure that the ones we loved weren’t getting hurt.”

Jatayu’s voice did not lower in volume like his brother’s. “Exactly! I am doing all that I can!”

“And I love you for it, brother. You are doing amazing... but you cannot expect me to stand idly by, watching through the sidelines and word of mouth from others that you are slowly decaying yourself from lack of care! Sleepless nights alone in a dangerous workshop, here even! You planned to place your faith in this unfinished technology to keep you safe from the Sweepers and night in the backstreets.”

“In fairness, the door is locked.”

“Now! Because I locked it! It was unlocked when I came here! Imagine you missed the time, Jatayu! If that door was unlocked, and I wasn’t here for you!”

The younger brother seemed tired of the conversation, dismissing his older brother over and over again. “Nothing bad would have happened. I can assure you, I am not so reckless as to just forget the very thing that haunts the backstreets every night.”

“But you did get distracted," Sampati grunted and started to pace. “Just—the point is! I can’t just let you do your side of the promise endlessly and watch my closest friend kill himself slowly over his work.” 

“Sampati, it’s alright. You are overreacting to this.”

“No! No, I’m not! The last time I saw you was 4 months ago! You are trying everything in your power to change the entire world for us, and I can’t just sit by while I hear about you not caring about yourself! Think of what Father would say—“

Something inside Jatayu snapped. “Father would say that I wasn’t doing enough.” A deep nerve had been struck, and his face boiled with anger. He grunted, facing away from Sampati. “Father… would say that I am not doing enough for Kollam; that I could be doing more! And I could be; there’s always so much more that I could be fixing! Father would say that I was doing the impossible—that I would never be able to do! Father, would say that you would be the better man for keeping the family safe!”

The older brother stopped pacing, his eyes wide as he listened to Jatayu. He stood in stunned silence, unable to counter. 

“Because you are stronger! Faster! You’re a Grade One Fixer, Sampati. You’re a celebrity star prodigy who has saved countless lives. You could do it. You could make this world better; be the better man. While Father would tell me that I shouldn’t get in the way of that! …So I’m not.” He paused, turning back towards his brother with bawled fists and gritted teeth. His eyes started to tear up as he couldn’t contain the hurt within him. “Father would promise me that I wasn’t as great a man as you could be. And he’s right. The only thing, the ONLY thing, that I could ever do, ever dream of doing to help keep the ones I love safe in the slightest, is dedicate myself to my machines. You are amazing, and I look up to you, Sampati, and I love you to death. And knowing that you constantly face death as well terrifies me. Because if a better man like you dies, what hope does this world have? What hope does your daughter have?”

The fixer grew pale in the face, gripping the table as he listened. 

The engineer couldn’t keep himself together. He stepped forward and grabbed the shirt of his brother, looking him directly in the eyes. “The only things that I have are my family and my machines... That is the only way I can ever make a difference. So if my machines can keep you, Bhumi, and Sita safe, then I am obligated to do nothing more in life than to make those machines better, stronger, and safer.”

Sampati’s voice was only a whisper. “Jatayu...”

The tears finally fell from Jatayu’s eyes. His grip loosened and he stood back down on the floor. 

The older man stared for a hard moment before he lightly lifted his arms, extending them toward Jatayu and embracing him in a warm hug. “Jatayu. You are so much more than that. You have your heart... it hurts me to hear you say that because I look up to you.”

The little brother started to weep. He gripped Samapti’s shirt more as he rested his head on his shoulder. 

The older brother consoled him gently. “You have saved my life countless times and have done so much good. You are a better man than I am. I am he who stands by and lets the world be as it is. You are seeking to change things for the better while I stagnate in the status quo. You are infinitely better than I am, brother, and you are my inspiration for becoming stronger. I want to make sure that my loved ones are safe, which includes you.”

The moment would be seared into both their memories as they stood in the familiar embrace of one another. It was as if when they clenched each other, their hearts were exposed to one another in a rare, brotherly comfort. 

Hyde sighed and glanced away. Jekyll was nervously watching. This all goes to crap, doesn’t it? 

Yes, Hyde shook her head. It has to. 

The fixer continued to speak. “You are enough, more than enough; I can promise you, Jatayu. You are one of the best men I’ve met and have had the pleasure of being related to, brother.”

The engineer couldn’t find the words. “…that… I...” He paused, another heavy weep escaping his throat. He wept alongside his brother as they solemnly hugged each other. “...I could say the same to you, brother.”

The peace that resolved the tension was noticeable to the party. The duo shared a moment, relaxing and bringing themselves together, but were interrupted by a large clock that echoed the time. They both turned their attention to the nearby wall, seeing the time. 

"Oh, it’s getting awfully close to time.” Sampati patted Jatayu’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home. You can stay the night at our house.”

“Thank you.” Jatayu watched his older brother step away from him as he rubbed his eyes. “I truly am sorry; the last thing I want to do is be a worry to you. Still... I do, genuinely need to remain here. There is a safety risk if the work I’ve done isn’t finished. It could end up with Surya deflating overnight.”

"Hmm... fine. How long will it take to finish?”

“Alone? About an hour and a half.”

“Convenient. That’s just about how long the Night in the Backstreets will be. At least, a good 10 minutes before its end, at least.” Sampati paused as he huffed lightly at his brother. "Right. I will. I will go home for now then. Just... stay safe, please. I will be back in the morning after. I have to go make sure Bhumi and Sita are okay.”

“Of course, I promise. I will be okay. You take care of them, and lock the door on your way out.”

“Will do. If something happens though—” 

“Nothing will happen, I’m sure. Here, we can bet on it. I bet you... breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow that nothing will happen~”

The fixer stared as the engineer tried to lighten the mood. He took a deep breath before releasing a sigh, smiling softly and wiping his eyes. “Alright, fine. You’re on. I’ll see you tomorrow with doughnuts with some glazed icing, just how you like them.” 

"Thanks, Sampati. I love you; good night, brother.”

“I love you too, brother. Stay safe.”

With the passing exchange of farewells, the duo parted ways from one another. Mark turned around and followed Sampati outside, along with Mallo. Lenore and Hyde stayed inside as they watched Jatayu turn gently back to his work. 

Hyde took a few steps toward the memory of her coworker, observing him carefully. Her thoughts couldn’t form into words, but there was an overall feeling of regret coming from Jekyll as she looked at him. 

I wish I had the chance to tell Lanyon that I was sorry, Jekyll grieved. I didn’t… I didn’t realize—

His pain? You literally gave him therapy. Hyde rolled her eyes. How could you not know? 

I didn’t realize all of this connection stuff was behind it. Jekyll clenched her arms. I didn’t realize someone could love their family like Jatayu does. 

It’s in the past; no need to dwell on it. 

Yet we haven’t changed, Hyde. We haven’t learned from it. 

We don’t need to. 

Jatayu continued to work tirelessly on his machine. The dull light of the closed bar continued to glow as the sounds of sweepers hustled outside in their usual busy manner. It didn’t take long before smoke filled the air. Jatayu didn’t notice, shrugging it off as if his own tools were causing it. However, the bar started to get oddly hot. A dangerous warmth filled the air with an unnatural heat. The engineer took a moment to step back and glance around. 

That was when he spotted it. The flames along the bar grew and grew with a bright, gleaming, unnatural color. Golden, orange, and ruby flames danced and twinkled around sparks and embers of teal-ish green with an unholy contrast of color bleeding into the floors and walls of the bar, spreading with a great speed unusual for fire. 

Smoke quickly devoured the fresh air in the bar, and more sweepers grew in number outside. The flame in the middle of the room began to glow brighter as Jatayu continued to screw up his machines. 

Mark and Mallo could be heard drawing their weapons, trying to avoid the sweepers as Lenore and Hyde looked around the bar for a way out for Dante. The flames wouldn’t necessarily hurt Lenore in the ID she was in, but it definitely would claim Dante. Clashing from the outside and sparking from the inside did not bring anyone ease. 

Well crap, Hyde backed up toward Dante, who desperately tried to get the door open. It was locked, and he couldn’t figure out how to open it as if it were jammed. 

“I don’t like this." Lenore used the wings on her ID to wrap around Hyde and Dante in a safe corner of the bar, trying her best to protect them. 

Hyde cursed under her breath and used her legs and arms to shield Dante from some of Lenore’s weak points, feeling the heat growing behind her. She knew the flames were spreading quickly and would consume them if they got any closer. Seconds turned to minutes as the flames quickly claimed the entire bar, burning every nook and cranny. Lenore and Hyde started to feel the fire on their skin and clothes as it closed in on them from the walls and floor. Cracks were heard in the ceiling. 

Despite Jekyll’s panic, Hyde was surprisingly calm. Her heart pounded, but she could not inhale in stress. I will pass out if I panic. Hyde quickly tried to assess any exit for the manager. There were none where he could not get hurt. “Heh,” Hyde winced as the flames started to claim her skin, eating at her health. Lenore grunted in pain as well, taking the brunt of the damage. The painter looked at the manager. “Still can’t get yourself out of trouble, can you?” 

The joke didn’t land in the moment of peril. A loud thud slammed on the jammed door. Through the smoky, burnt windows, Lenore and Hyde could see Mark and Mallo trying to break down the door while avoiding the sweepers that closed in on them. Tensions rose again as they tried and failed. 

However, despite Mallo backing up to catch her breath, Mark did not stop. He tore into the door with everything he had. He seemed rather passionate as he finally broke through the door, seeing the flames of the building consuming everything in his path. He coughed, running in to reach for Jatayu as if he were cynical and acting out of character. It was like he was reaching out to someone else who reminded him of the memory of Jatayu. 

Hyde looked at him with curiosity. What the hell are you doing? 

“Don’t speak too soon, Jekyll!” Dante got up and started to push Lenore and Hyde toward the broken door. “Come on, let’s go!” 

Lenore obliged and met Mallo’s hand as the coworker pulled her out of the bonfire. Mallo almost tossed her aside before she reached for Hyde, who accepted her hand and got pulled out as well. 

However, the manager refused to accept Mallo’s hand, resisting. “I can’t! Jatayu and Mark aren’t out here!” 

Mallo looked panicked and annoyed. “You can’t be revived! Get out of there!” 

“I can’t leave them!” 

The flames grew ever closer to the manager as he glanced back at Mark rushing to Jatayu, his hands falling through the fragmented memory. Despite being unable to grab him, he still tried as if he were in a demented daze. “We have to get out of here; the building’s burning; let’s go!” He spoke with a unique panic the party hadn’t heard before. 

“I can get them for you,” Lenore offered, also extending her hand out toward the manager. “I’ll handle this!” 

“I can’t control you,” Mallo almost hesitated to retract her hand. “Don’t be stupid!” 

The memory of Jatayu coughed profusely, which only made the panic in Mark’s eyes worse. He acted as if there was someone else he was seeing. “Please,” he mentioned a name that was not Jatayu, but the flames made it difficult to hear it clearly. “We…. leave—” 

Dante finally took Mallo’s hand. She yanked him out of the bar as fast as possible. He gasped before ordering Lenore. “Get Mark out of there as fast as possible!” 

Lenore flared up her wings and nodded before diving back into the flames, her words inaudible as the ceiling cracked further, groaning as it lost its structure. She stopped in front of Mark and grabbed his arm. “This Jatayu isn’t real!” She tried speaking to Mark but paused as she observed his state.

Mark didn’t seem to budge. Whoever he saw amid the flames, he was trying to protect them from a fire, desperation in his voice. 

Lenore didn’t stop, recomposing herself as the flames licked at her clothes. “Mark, it’s going to be alright! We need to help the real Jatayu. We don’t have time for this!” 

The prisoner retaliated. “What do you mean he’s Jatayu?! He’s my—” There was a long pause. He turned back toward the memory. “Come on, the fire is going to burn you. We need to get out of here! Come on, come on!” 

Hyde tilted her head curiously, searching her memory for any recollection of who he could be possibly seeing. 

Jekyll helped her search. He talked about his old lady and brother; she remembered when they first encountered him. Is he... trying to save one of them from the fire? 

Hyde shrugged. It’s going to get them both killed if they don’t snap out of it. Perhaps someone was important to him after all. It seems he hasn’t grown out of it quite yet. 

Jekyll sighed. Is this the whole connection being a weakness thing? 

Can you not tell? Hyde gestured with her head toward the fire as she watched the ceiling bend in. If he didn’t care about anyone, he would be out of there. 

Lenore was clearly tired of his excuses and watched the bar slowly cave in. She grabbed Mark’s arm firmly and started to drag him away from the scene. 

Although Mark resisted, he was no match in the weak state he was in to stop her. 

Lenore safely dragged him toward the manager as they all stood outside the bar in a safe area, watching the interior blaze from the windows and broken door. 

Hyde heaved a relieved sigh. Good, they finally got out. 

Some party members assembled themselves to cover Jatayu’s back as they watched the sweepers outside. However, most of them didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to them. 

The memory of Jatayu inside the bar panicked, entering a stunned state. He hadn’t realized how quickly the flames grew until it was too late. As if it were on cue, the flames finally reached the door and blocked his exit. He tried to back away from the fire, but there was no escaping the rising smoke, taking away his air. He cursed loudly, groaning as he stared at the sweepers outside. The morning dawn slowly crept up on the horizon, but the night was not quite over. 

The wooden beams in the ceiling cracked further as they turned to ash. The damage had been too much for the bar to support its weight any longer. The steel melted and crashed, releasing more smoke into the air. Jatayu gagged and gasped for air as the fire grew. The orange and green flames surrounded him quickly, snuffing out any hope he had for surviving as he saw his end approaching him. 

“JATAYU!” 

The familiar voice of the fixer filled the air. Sampati phased through the party at a blinding speed, charging into the building and bursting through the doors. He stared around frantically, searching for his brother. 

Jatayu coughed and fell to his knees, his eyes wide as he saw his brother. “Sampati?!” His voice was in a loud shout.” R-Run! It’s not safe here!” 

The machine Jatayu worked on earlier quirked and turned on the table. The walls of the building remained unscathed and upright, versus the floor and ceiling, as if the technology Jatayu worked on was only partially working. 

The older brother pulled out his iconic spear, using it as leverage against the flames, pulling them apart as if he controlled them. He tossed them aside like objects. Fighting the fires, he burst through the large panels of rubble, wood, and steel, struggling to get towards his little brother. “JATAYU!” 

“Go! Leave me! It’s too dangerous! You could be crushed!” 

“No! I won’t leave you! I can’t!” 

“SAMPATI!” 

Their screams at each other soon get overshadowed by the ever-growing flames. The hazes grew as the ceiling crumbled more and more, about to give way at any moment. 

For a brief, single moment, there was an opening between them—a moment where the brothers could see each other amid the miasma and flames. Sampati wasted no time and pulled out the gift Jatayu made for him, clutching it in his hand. He pressed the button on it quickly and threw the machine, flying through the opening and moving toward Jatayu. 

The machine lands against Jatayu’s chest, thudding hard against him. Jatayu grunted from the force of impact, only to see when he opened his eyes a large, blue bubble around him. It shielded him as he recovered. He stared back toward Sampati, seeing the soft smile on his brother’s face. “S-Sampati?! SAMPATI!” 

The ceiling comes crashing down on them. 

Jatayu was forced to watch through his shield as the building deflated, and his brother was taken from his view by the falling debris and rubble. The shield bounced the rubble off of where Jatayu knelt, and it stopped him from reaching out further as his brother vanished under the smoke. His lips parted as his tears formed, trying to break through the shield as if he were trying to stop what had already happened. “BROTHER!” 

* * *

There was a long, unpleasant silence as the scene slowly shifted. Most of the party shifted uncomfortably as they witnessed what took place. The smoke subsided as the scene returned to a slight color. The memory of Jatayu sat alone, hugging his knees and weeping as he shook. His current, distorted voice surrounded the plane. “I never saw him again. I sat there for what felt like years, waiting for someone to help me. Eventually, help came, but only I left the building. They never found his body... no one says that they blame me... but I will forever blame myself for the loss the world suffered that day—the loss of a better man.”

The sweepers disappeared along with the memory. They were replaced by the peccatulum, like on every floor...

Only to be accompanied by a distortion. 

Hyde slowly turned around, her eyes dull as she laid eyes on the distortion she spotted the first time she climbed the spire. The dormant creature unraveled itself, and it was clear that this was the thing that was watching them the whole time. Rage filled her heart as she gripped her paintbrush, setting the scene she just watched aside. That bastard—

Jekyll took the memory in and stared at it. Hyde, wait, we probably should process this. In therapy, we—

Do you not see what is in front of us, Jekyll? Hyde sighed, shaking her head. This is what stopped us from helping Jatayu properly the first time. I’m not letting it escape us. 

Dante also turned with the rest of the group, fiddling with his panel as he selected IDs. “That’s a distortion... No, it used to be. This used to be someone, but whoever they were before is no longer here.” 

Mallo shrugged, watching her ID change to that of Magic Bullet. “Doesn’t matter; we shall kill it.” 

Mark transformed into a T Corp ID, and Lenore stayed in the same ID she had used for the past three floors. Hyde watched her outfit slowly change into an ID she recognized: Shi Hyde.

Wait, no, I thought we agreed—silence. Jekyll had been removed from Hyde’s thoughts. 

Hyde grunted as she felt her tongue disappear. It felt odd to have the ID she first faced the distortion with. Wouldn’t it recognize her? What was Dante doing? Manager, I told you not to use—

“Kill it quickly; we don’t want Jatayu to succumb to the same fate,” Dante ordered, backing up slowly. 

Dante’s orders were interrupted by a familiar, robotic giggle. The group turned around as they saw one of the purple robotic drones floating their way. It made its way between the distortion and the party as if it were halting the fight. "Oh, how beautiful! The pain and suffering are more glorious than I imagined them to be! So that’s why he fights!” 

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Do we know you?” 

“I know you,” the drone cooed as if the thought was more terrifying. “I don’t recall you being in T Corp… Oh, but I got what I came for. Why Jatayu fights… it’ll make this next part so delightful!” 

Mark furrowed his eyes and leaned toward Lenore. “Does Jatayu have a weird creepy ex?” 

She shrugged. “Not sure, let’s kill it anyway.” 

“Another demon core to use as a bomb, then?”

“Yes.” 

There wasn’t anything else to say. Mark charged forward and slammed into the drone’s side, sending it flying toward the other end of the party line-up. It laughed all the way, mocking them. “You wish to kill me, so why don’t I go ahead and make it easier for you?” It tried to self-destruct, igniting itself to explode. 

But Hyde was faster. 

Hyde drew her sword and lunged straight for the drone, slashing her red sword across its eye. The force she wailed on the robot sent it flying toward the distortion. 

“Se la ve~” The robot exploded in the distortion’s face, killing the majority of the peccatulum alongside it. They lay dead at the distortion’s feet, withering in a horrid, black pain. 

Mark didn’t seem to approve. “There goes the demon core.” 

Hyde glanced at the tool abnormality on her back. She debated throwing the box to try and hurt the enemies this time. Gerald, please come back; she pressed the button. It’d be great to have you right now. 

As she threw it, the distortion was the only one left on the battlefield thanks to the explosion. It dodged the box entirely. The box hissed and shook before a small peccatulum came crawling out. It rolled on its glass ball as its eye glanced at the party. 

Hyde’s heart sank as its eyes narrowed. This peccatulum had set its mind against the party and joined the distortion. It was identical to Gerald, save the mustache-like claws. It was not him, and it discouraged Hyde from hitting it. I… I was hoping you would prove me wrong about my assumption, old friend. It seems the first version was truly too good to be true. 

The distortion continued to dance as it sang, more peccatulum coming out of its skirt as it did the first time Hyde faced it. 

The evil Gerald lunged for Mark, who quickly saw its attack and evaded accordingly. Mark then rushed to attack the new gluttony peccatulum and the boss. He succeeded and was able to land a few hits on them. 

Mallo set up her gun and started firing at the rest of the peccatulum, splitting her bullet beforehand so it would hit more targets. She aimed for a sloth peccatulum. As she shot, the bullet split, killing the sloth peccatulum and the alternate Gerald on the spot. Mallo fell over and clutched her chest, feeling the pain of the shot. 

Hyde leaped to the side, avoiding a few attacks before intercepting the distortion when it targeted Mallo. She blocked before rushing at it, slicing a big, open gap in one of its legs. She was careful enough to not get trampled by its feet. 

Every time the party made significant progress on the peccatulum, more and more kept spawning. It was clear the distortion wanted them dead. Hyde shuddered as she remembered the peccatulum coming in swarms and how grateful she was that there were not as many. Perhaps it had finally run out of stimuli. Hyde knew the abnormality could sow the peccatulum together to make them stronger... Why was it holding back? 

Mark and Mallo worked side-by-side in the fight, tag-teaming every peccatulum that lunged their way. They made quick work of the minions, with Mark taking their attacks and Mallo using the opening to obliterate them with her gun. 

Their tag-teaming let them easily take a few shots on the distortion as it staggered. Hyde twirled her sword, heaving a large breath as she prepared to finish it off. 

Until it entered phase two. 

The distortion did not take any more damage as it transformed. It continued to dance, but it quickened its pace. It spawned twice as many peccatulums and instantly started to morph them together, sowing them together to make them stronger. It was a sea of rainbow enemies. 

“New plan!” Lenore came back out of the bar in the One Who Grips ID. “Dante is changing IDs now!” 

Hyde felt her tongue return as her eye disappeared. She slowly morphed into the One Who Shall Grip ID as Mark and Mallo changed into Kurokumo IDs. We could do this mid-combat? Huh. Hyde smirked, feeling the insanity claim her mind. 

The party adjusted to their new IDs and welcomed Lenore into the battle before working together. Each of them took turns making sure the distortion bled from various wounds they laid across it. The sight only straightened all of them.

The peccatulums were almost ignored as Hyde saw the opportunity to strike. She rushed toward the distortion, slicing a wound across its head before landing on the floor, watching its blood spill onto the plane. The peccatulum gazed in fear as Mark charged forward to finish it off, Mallo and Lenore facing the peccatulums as the distortion fell to Mark’s hands. 

The fight was mostly a blur to Hyde. She couldn’t remember everything the party did, but all she did remember was the satisfaction of watching the abnormality bleed to death before the party.

[psalacanthea]

WiP Whenever

it's not wednesday but I have time for once, and I know it's been a while since I updated anything. So here's a little from the Hawke x Varric fic (post-canon, post Hawke escaping from the fade) for my tumblr buddies.

Hawke meets a new friend that happens to be related to someone she met in the Fade.

...

“What are you doing?” the worst four year old in Thedas asked for the fifth time.

“Having a headache,” Hawke replied, a hand draped over her face.  “I’ve had a very hard day, you know.”

“Uncle Varric was mad.”

Yep, he sure was.  Still mad, actually.  If Naomi didn’t feel like she’d been thrown down the harbor road in a barrel, she’d probably be hovering over him.  But instead she was stuck being Thedas’ worst babysitter.

She shifted, moving from hand over the face to arm over the face.  Still blocked out the light, but more dramatically.  “Only a little at me, mostly at other people.  Where’s your mom?”

Her response was in Dalish.  Elven.  Whatever they called it, Naomi didn’t speak it.

“Okay,” she said, rather than ask for clarification.

It gained her no reprieve.  The small creature continued prattling.  “Uncle Varric said you from F’relden.  Where’s you dog?”

“My friend Fenris stole him.  They stole each other, I guess.”  At the fretful little tug on her arm, Hawke lifted it above her eyes.  Her head swam a little as her vision focused, in a way that made her finally admit Varric was right and she shouldn’t sleep until her brains un-scrambled, or he found a mage.

Disturbingly close to hers, a round-cheeked, but pointy face framed by wavy mahogany hair cut too close loomed, eyes fixed intently on her face.  Weird eyes, actually.  Not a color she’d ever seen before, even in other elves.  They weren’t gray like she’d thought.

“Your eyes are purple.”

“Yours eyes are blue.”

“Kid…”

“Aslin,” the little interloper corrected her.

“Aslin, I have a headache.  Because someone kicked me in the head.  Several times. And that's after a long lifetime of people kicking me in the head, so it hurts a lot.”

“D’you need a medicine?”

Not even bothering to question if it was a good idea or not, Hawke dropped her arm back over her face.  “Yeah.  The bottle on the table is my medicine, can you pour me a glass?”

The weight on her knees disappeared, and Naomi slumped deeper into her chair.  Maker.  Where was Anders when you needed him?  Wasn’t Varric’s stupid paragon a mage?  Or had the magic left her when her ex chopped off her arm?

“Hey, is your mom a mage?”

“No.  Is you a mage?”  There was a disturbingly loud clink, a splash, and then a very faint ‘oops’.

Naomi didn’t open her eyes.  “No.  Is anything broken?”

“No, its yours turn.  You say ‘is Asalin a mage?’ and ven I say yes.”

Naomi honestly wasn’t really listening. “Seems like you have it handled.  Is anything broken?”

“No.”

“Then keep going,” she invited.

There was some excessive glugging, some more splashing and some more ‘oops’es, but eventually Hawke’s dangling hand had something cold and very damp shoved at it.  Gratefully she fumbled her way into grabbing the glass by the bowl, letting the drenched base drip onto the floor.  “Thanks, kiddo.”

“I spilled.”

“Yeah.  On the table or yourself?”

“Yes.”

Naomi was smart enough to know that a small child covered in wine would get her into trouble.  She remained in the darkness behind her eyeballs though, because seeing things made them real and she didn’t feel like dealing with it.  “Shit happens.  You can take anything you want out of the big wardrobe in the bedroom.”

As little bare feet pattered noisily away on the stone floor, Hawke took a sip of her wine, feeling the drops pattering against her thigh.  And chest, as she lifted the dry red to her lips.  “This is why I don’t wear white,” she muttered.

It didn’t take long for the little beast to do whatever destruction she was doing in the other room, and there were no crashes or screams.  No sobbing.  See?  Four year olds didn’t need that much oversight– she was perfectly capable.

“Asalin?  Aslin!”

The voice echoed up the hall, too distant to be unpleasant, but still rousing a wrinkle of Naomi’s forehead.  Which hurt, so she stopped.  Being kicked in the head was unpleasant.  So was the rest of it, of course, but right now the headache was so insistent that she couldn’t think about anything else.

The pain was in her teeth.

Like a duckling, she heard the pitter-patter of little elven feet again.  “I have to go mamae.”

“Good luck.  Remember, you should ask Uncle Varric where his beard went.”

“Okay.  Daref shiral.”

“Dareth shiral,” Naomi replied, because she knew that one.  Didn’t know what it meant, but she knew what it was.  Merrill said it sometimes.

“I’m close a’door.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

Another little pitter-pat, and then some huffing and puffing and very serious child grunting.  “Why can’t somefing just work?!” the little voice declared with a very adult cadence and exasperation, but hilariously childlike pronunciation.

“It’s a heavy door and you’re a small bean.  It’s fine.  Leave it.”

Unfortunately that required another round of farewells, which meant the kid’s mom got close enough that Hawke could hear when her crimes were uncovered.  First it was fussing over what she was wearing (one of Varric’s shirts, apparently, which meant it was a wonder the kid was covered at all and not just tripping on his neckline) and then it was asking why she smelled like wine in a much higher and more strained pitch.  Oh yeah.  That probably would be noticeable, wouldn’t it be?

But the moment Hawke knew she was in real trouble when a small, serious voice piped up from the hallway.

“Shit happens, mamae."

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch.16 (a ronance fic)

all previous chapters of this fic can be found here!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Before they had left the hotel Nancy had called in an order at a restaurant on the way. “When I said we wanted a large sized pasta I didn’t think it would be family sized,” she said. There were two huge plastic containers almost spilling over with fettuccine and cheese ravioli.

“This is perfect,” Robin sighed happily. She grabbed the paper to-go bag and pulled out another container. “Breadsticks,” she smelled the box and grinned. “This is going to be the best dinner ever.”

”Good thing they packed us paper plates,” Nancy handed Robin one along with a plastic fork.

They both put some of each pasta on their plate and Robin poured them each a glass of wine. She passed a plastic cup to Robin who nodded in thanks. The sky was turning pink and orange as the sun began to go down. Today had been perfect and now she was getting to watch a sunset and meteor shower with Nancy. Even though she knew tomorrow was going to be difficult she was so thankful for the time they had now.

“Who was your first crush?” Nancy asked, passing Robin a fork.

“Oh, the big questions, huh?” Robin tilted her head to the side. It was difficult to say because she had a crush on two girls very specifically starting freshman year. “Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham.”

Nancy clapped her hands together excitedly, “Tammy and Chrissy! Oh I love that so much! Did you ever confess to them?”

“No way! Imagine the scandal that would have caused. Although one time the band was playing at a basketball game and there was a routine the cheerleaders did with the band like a chant? Do you remember?”

“Yes! The get fired up, I remember. Keep talking,” she said excitedly.

“Well there was one time Chrissy was facing me for the entire routine and when they finished and walked back to the sideline she turned around to smile at me one last time. Oh man, I went home and wrote her a letter on how she was the love of my life.”

“Didn’t slip it in her locker? Not even anonymously?” Nancy gave a fake pout.

Robin shook her head, “I almost did! I had it in my hand and right when I was about to step up to her locker she and Jason were suddenly there. She was giggling and he was sticking his yucky lips on her. I burned the letter that night.”

Nancy tilted her head giving Robin a thoughtful look, “I kissed Barb once,” her voice was soft now. It was more of a bittersweet confession.

Robin laid her hand on top of Nancy's, giving her a half frown. She didn’t want to ask questions because she knew this had to be hard for her. Barb had died so young and Steve had told Robin about that night before. She wasn’t sure if that wasn’t something anyone could get over especially her best friend and probable crush?

“Yes. I had realized that I didn’t just like guys. I had a major crush on Barb and as far as I knew… Well, she had never said she didn’t like girls, you know? One day we were arguing about some stupid math quiz and I just grabbed her and kissed her.” There was a sad look on Nancy’s face as she continued, “We just sort of stared at each other in shock. She never mentioned it after that so I figured I made the wrong choice. I tried to pretend it never happened just like she did and moved on. That’s when I dated Steve.”

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees around them. Nancy took a long drink from her plastic cup then sighed. “A few months after she died I asked her mother if I could look for a jacket I lost. When I was in her room I found her diary hidden in her closet in an old shoe box.” Her voice cracked as she closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. “She had written about the kiss and how it felt magical. She had said it was everything she dreamed of but she couldn’t say it out loud. When I started dating Steve the diary entries sort of stopped.”

Robin rubbed Nancy’s arm softly, “I am so sorry for what happened to her, Nancy. I wished I could have known her better.”

Nancy nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “You would have loved her. The two of you would have bickered like no tomorrow and I would have loved to watch it.”

They finished eating in a comfortable yet bittersweet silence, watching the colors of the sky swirl together as it turned purple then a dark blue into black. After they packed away the leftovers, Robin poured them each another glass of wine. “Do you have anything planned for work?” She asked Nancy who had just fluffed her pillow to lie down.

“I’m still trying to set something up with Max. She has a lot of changing deadlines with her work. But, we are looking for about a month out because she’s going to have two weeks off work. That is if her current project finishes on time.

“What’s she working on?” Robin laid back beside Nancy, pulling the extra blanket over them.

“I’m not sure. She said she can’t talk about it just yet but maybe by the interview she can. If I hold out on publishing her article until an official announcement that could also help. I’ll probably have to sign a couple of NDAs or something but it’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

”So sophisticated Nancy Wheeler.”

Nancy gave a sheepish grin then sighed. “I know you said before you weren’t sure what you would have done if you hadn’t started touring but what do you think you’d do now? Like if the band decided to call it quits?”

Robin shook her head, “That’s hard to even imagine. Everyone is so close and we all get along. I know we are very lucky for that so it’s a hard scenario to picture. But, I guess if the music and shows were to go away today perhaps I would still try something in film. I don’t know if it would ever go anywhere but I could try at least. I also do think I’d love to own a studio though. Like where kids could come to learn and play whatever instrument they want. I believe Chicago is a perfect place for that too. And I’m not talking about some fancy place but somewhere everyone is welcome. I do think my heart is with music now, funnily enough.” And it was funny to Robin. Sure she was in band and had cared about that but it had never been her calling. Marching band wasn’t even something she imagined herself continuing past high school and now music was her whole life. All by chance.

“That sounds really nice. I think that if I gave up the magazine I’d still find some sort of woman’s work. I don’t think I could ever try working for a bunch of men again. It’s impossible.” Her hand shot up in the air, “You missed it! Pay attention!”

Robin whipped her head back up toward the sky and looked around. She needed to actually pay attention. Which was very hard to do with the prettiest girl she knew beside her. “The stars are so different out here,” she offered. The sky was so clear Robin felt like she could actually see the balls of gas twinkling.

“It’s breathtaking,” Nancy said quietly beside her.

Robin nodded in agreement, looking around, trying to spot constellations as easily as Nancy could. “When is the next full moon?” Robin knew that Nancy would know the answer because of her journal.

“The thirtieth of this month. Then the thirtieth again of October. Just in time for Halloween.”

Robin sat up quickly. “Nancy! Halloween is next month!”

Nancy raised an eyebrow at her, “Yes it does typically fall on October thirty-first.”

“No! I mean yes, but no. This will be my first Halloween home in six years! We have to have a party or do something fun!” She looked at Nancy who was still looking at her with a raised brow but now had a smirk on her face. “It’s my absolute favorite holiday!”

”Perfect! Mine is Christmas but I do love Halloween. We definitely will do something. I’ll make sure not to book anything that day!” Her smile grew into something more mischievous, “We should coordinate costumes.”

”That would be perfect! Maybe we can talk Steve and Eddie into having a party. Their house is bigger than mine.”

”I’ve not been to their house but I’m assuming it’s bigger than mine as well. Plus my landlord is weird about having a lot of cars parked in the driveway.”

”Isn’t that what a driveway is for?” Robin laid back down, shifting herself so she could prop her head on Nancy’s stomach.

Nancy started to run her fingers gently through Robin’s hair. “That is the function of it, yes but he’s my neighbor so he would probably come raising hell.”

”Fair enough. Not our places then. It won’t be hard to talk Eddie into it. For all we know he may already be planning a party.”

”Actually, he probably is. Does he make Steve dress up with him?” Nancy questioned, still running her fingers through Robin’s hair absentmindedly.

”Oh, for sure. They’ve done Rocky and Dr Frank-N-Furter, oh, last year Steve was Beetlejuice and Eddie was Lydia. That was the best one they’ve done yet.”

”I wish I could have seen that! I bet Eddie looked so fucking good. Ooooh, what are we gonna do?”

”Hm,” Robin hummed thoughtfully. “How do you feel about Princess Leia? I can be Han Solo.”

”That sounds perfect! You’re gonna look so good as Han.”

Robin felt herself blush, “Maybe we can participate in a ‘hottest couple costume contest’. I’m sure we’d win.”

”So we’re a couple?” Even though Nancy had sass in her tone Robin didn’t miss the way her voice shot up on the word couple. She had been trying to figure this out just as much as Robin herself.

Were they? It seemed like not that much time had gone by since the interview they had together but then again so much had happened since then. Everything had changed as well. Was it too soon to put a label on things? Could giving whatever they were a title make the fact they’d be juggling long distance even harder? Both of them were young it seemed silly to not just do what they wanted.

“I think we are whatever you want us to be Nancy Wheeler.”

Nancy’s fingers stopped, leaving the palms of her hands pressed against the top of Robin’s hands. “Can I be vulnerable?”

Robin nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“I am so scared, Robin. I haven’t been this happy in a very long time nor have I felt this way before. The thought of becoming something more than friends is horrifying. Or course I have feelings for you but I’m also genuinely so scared. You’ll tour more. I’ll have jobs I have to fly out for and I just don’t know how we will manage to make this work. I want more than anything for it to be possible but I’m scared of how bad losing you will hurt.”

Robin turned, inching herself up so she was next to Nancy, nose to nose nearly. “I’m scared too, Nance. Terrified, if I’m being honest. I want to be with you. It’s all I think about. Being together, spending time with one another… My thoughts are about you so often everyday I know things are different. I also know things are hard because of our jobs. So, maybe we don’t use a label? Maybe we just see where it goes? Who knows what could happen. If you don’t want to be my girlfriend that’s okay.”

Nancy pressed her lips against Robin’s, causing her to hold her breath. She was always saying too much even when being honest mattered most. “Okay.” She said after pulling away.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just see what happens.”

Stars streaked through the sky, leaving streams of green and blue and Robin could do was squeeze Nancy’s hand a little harder. Letting things take their course was a good thing but for some reason Robin had a lump in her throat. Could the two of them actually make it work?

[mimisempai]

That’s who we are

Summary

During a discussion with Maggie, Crowley learns of the agreement she has with Aziraphale regarding her rent. 

The demon decides it's time to show his angel that his kindness has nothing to do with his angelic nature. But little does he know that the lesson will backfire.

Notes

It’s time both learn their lesson…

On Ao3

Rating G -  1263 words

The Bentley was not far from Wickber Street when the phone rang. Since there was only one person in the Bentley to call him, Crowley answered, "Yes, angel?"

"Ah, Crowley. Good. Could you pick up a record at Maggie's before you come?"

Crowley frowned and replied, "Angel, you're in the store next door, you'll get it faster than me."

"No, no, my dear, please. I'm busy with Muriel, you know, and..."

Crowley chuckled softly, "It's okay, angel. I understand that after Gabriel's, how shall I say... peculiar sorting out, you're afraid to leave another angel alone near your books."

"Mmmmh. Thank you."

Though he doubted Muriel would have the same foolish idea as Gabriel, knowing Aziraphale, Crowley understood his fear of leaving anyone else alone with his precious books.

Moments later, he parked the Bentley on the street before quietly making his way to Maggie's shop. 

He noticed Nina watching from the cafe and thought to himself that Maggie might not have to wait long. He nodded to the coffee shop owner before entering the record store.

"Hi Maggie."

"Oh, Crowley! How can I help you?" the blonde woman hastened to ask as she walked towards him.

"My... uh, Aziraphale said you had something for him."

Maggie nodded, "I'll get it."

She went to the back of the store and returned almost immediately with a record in her hand and handed it to Crowley.

Crowley asked, "What about payment?"

Maggie shook her head, "Mr. Fell and I have an arrangement. You know... um... rent. He doesn't pay his records and accepts my late rent." She hastened to add, "I know it's not fair, and I promise you that--"

She had stopped herself because Crowley had raised his hand and said, "It's his decision, I don't need justification. It's between you and him."

He was about to leave when the woman said quietly, "He really is an angel, isn't he?" 

Crowley replied with a half-smile, "So he thinks. But he's so much more than that..." then he walked out without looking back, heading for the bookstore.

As they left the coffee shop, a blonde woman stopped them and called out to Aziraphale, "Oh, Mr. Fell, about the rent. I just want to say you're an angel."

Aziraphale shook his head, "Oh, nothing of the sort," then held up the plate of cake in his hand and added, "Eccles cake?" 

The blonde woman shook her head and they each went their separate ways.

Crowley asked the Angel, "Doing good again, Angel?"

Aziraphale chuckled softly, "Oh, it hardly counts. A purely selfish action."

A purely selfish action.

Bullshit!

My stupid angel.

By the time he'd thought about it, Crowley was on his way through the bookshop door. The two angels hadn't seen him enter, and Crowley watched with amusement as Aziraphale fussed over Muriel as they delicately handled an ancient book.

Crowley poured himself a glass of wine, Aziraphale a glass of scotch, and sat down to wait for them to finish. He watched as the angel was attentive to Muriel, speaking kindly to them, giving them advice, gently correcting them when they made a mistake. So different from the way they must have been treated up there. And Aziraphale knew that better than anyone.

Selfish?

"Is this for me?"

The angel's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Crowley pushed the glass toward him and nodded.

Instead of sitting down, Aziraphale walked around the table and kissed him on the forehead before pulling up a chair beside him instead of the usual spot in front of Crowley.

Crowley stopped himself from touching the still-warm place where the angel had pressed his lips, amazed at the way Aziraphale was getting bolder with him.

He reached for his hand and gently kissed the palm before picking up his glass and clinking it against the angel's.

He said quietly, "You're kind to Muriel."

Aziraphale replied, "No, I'm just doing what's necessary to make them as comfortable as possible."

Crowley replied in a slightly drawling voice, "Yeah, yeah, tell yourself whatever you want."

Aziraphale frowned, "What do you mean, my dear?"

Crowley straightened, put his hand on the Angel's and asked softly, "Angel, tell me, why are you doing all this?"

"Doing what?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow and replied, "Help Maggie with her rent, help Muriel."

Aziraphale shook his shoulders, "I told you, it's selfish for Maggie and necessary for Muriel."

Crowley sighed and, intertwining his fingers with the angel's, asked softly, "And the sword of fire?"

Aziraphale frowned, "What, the sword of fire?"

Crowley continued in the same gentle tone, "Why did you give it to Adam?"

Aziraphale, a bit annoyed, replied, "I told you, she was pregnant, they were going to face animals, it was going to be cold."

"Hm," Crowley hummed, "but you were an angel, you weren't supposed to do that, and yet you did because you couldn't leave them in need."

Aziraphale wanted to pull his hand away, but Crowley held it tight as he continued, "Job's children, helping Gabriel, helping me by playing the magician, trying to help Wee Morag, and finally protecting me with your wing, why did you do all this? Why are you kind, Aziraphale, why do you want to do good so much?"

Aziraphale replied stubbornly, "Because I'm an Ang..."

Crowley interrupted, "No, Angel, you're kind because that's who you are, regardless of your function. It's who you are. You can't help but come to the help of someone in need because it's what your heart dictates."

Pointing to Aziraphale's chest and then to his forehead, he said quietly, "You're a good person, Aziraphale, whether you've made mistakes, whether you've been wrong sometimes or not, at the end of the day, you're a good person."

Aziraphale remained silent for a few moments, digesting the demon's words, then narrowed his eyes and asked Crowley, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

Aziraphale half smiled, "Mr. 'I'm not kind', do you think you're in a good position to lecture me?"

Crowley grumbled, "That's a low blow, Angel."

Aziraphale's smile widened, "So I'm not so kind after all."

Crowley let go of the Angel's hands and moved closer, smirking as he replied, "Oh, yes, you are. You may be a smartass, but you're a kind one."

Aziraphale chuckled, then with a serious expression, he raised his hand and brushed away a red strand of hair that had fallen across Crowley's forehead. Looking him in the eye, he placed his hand gently on his cheek and replied, "You're kind too, Crowley, you know. If you have examples for me, I have more. If you like, I'll list them-"

He was interrupted when the demon put a finger to his lips and shook his head. Crowley replied softly, "Let's call it a draw...we're both nice and we're the only ones who need to know."

Aziraphale smiled and kissed the finger on his lips before saying in an affectionate voice, "You're silly, but that's why I L..."

He stopped before he could finish the sentence, realizing what he was about to say.

He knew it was true that he felt that way, so why had he stopped?

Crowley looked at him and smiled softly before saying, "I know..." then leaning forward to close the distance between them, he pressed his lips gently to the Angel's, and they both soon forgot for a moment the word that hadn't been said.

Those words had been there since the beginning of time.

They had only just acknowledged them.

They would have plenty of time to tell each other.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[aislynn-wiley1999]

Confessions of Whiskey and Wine

After the first Quidditch match of Year 7, Aislynn finds herself caught between two very drunk Slytherin boys.

Chapter 8 of 'Three Headed Serpent', full fic can be found here !

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drunken flirting, making out, groping, sexy dancing, aged up characters, drunken confessions and stupidity.

Word Count: 2.8k

Poppy and I are sitting in the stands, watching the Slytherin and Hufflepuff teams whiz by on brooms. I watch Sebastian, who is guarding the goal area, as he maneuvers back and forth on his broom. Imelda is all over the place, trying to outfly the Hufflepuff seeker as they search for the snitch.

“And another ten points for Slytherin!” the announcer shouts, half of the stadium erupting in a cheer. Poppy grumbles something about the Hufflepuff seeker not doing their job. 

“Remember our deal, Poppy. We win, you feed the cat for the whole week!” I shout over the noise. She shoves me playfully, but gives me a big smile as she does so. She turns back to the game, shouting along with the crowd. I decided to sit on the Hufflepuff side, betraying my house in order to sit with my friend.

I watch as Sebastian blocks a goal, throwing his arms up in triumph. My hands are the only ones clapping in this section, and I don’t do it for long. Frankly, I am ready for the game to be over. The October air has a bite, and the wind has picked up within the last ten minutes.

“The game needs to hurry up, it's starting to get cold and I do not feel like shivering in my coat for another twenty minutes,” I whisper into Poppy’s ear. She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by the announcer.

“Imelda Reyes has caught the snitch! Slytherin has won the match!”

—-------------------------------------------------

Slytherin’s did certainly mope when they lost quidditch, but when they won? Everyone became loud, drunk, and full of joy. The common room had exploded with music, people were dancing and drinking. A few people were gambling with cards and whiskey on one side of the room, and on the other people were making enough drinks to drown out the world. 

Imelda and I changed from our robes and uniforms into actual dresses, a far cry from the pressed shirts and skirts we wore most days. Without my long hair to cover it, my back was on display for all to see. I felt utterly and completely free.

“Let’s go, Wiley! I want enough whiskey and wine to forget my name,” Imelda says, dragging me along to the table of spirits. She pours a goblet full of wine for each of us, and then takes the bottle of fire whiskey and gives it a swig before passing it to me. I copy her movement, taking a large gulp. The warm liquid provides me with a welcome sensation, prompting me to take another swig. Imelda is laughing at me, and we walk away from the table towards the middle of the room. 

The goblet of wine in my hand makes its way to my lips, and a buzz fills my body as I drink. There is music playing, someone somewhere enchanted an instrument of sorts. Imelda is swaying nearby me, and I find myself doing the same. There is this enchanting feeling around me, but deep down I know that it is just the alcohol in my body. The two of us are swaying, swaying, swaying, as if we are under some sort of spell.

Before I even feel a body, I can feel his breath on my neck. Sebastian's hands touch my shoulders, prompting me to turn slightly. The wine in my goblet is almost gone, and I feel him whisper something to me about getting another drink. His words are slurred, his hair messed up and his cheeks are flushed pink. I let him steer me back towards the drinks. Instead of wine, I opt to pour whiskey into my glass and thin it with water.

“Drinking with a purpose tonight, Aislynn?” he asks, a messy grin plastered on his face. He is eyeing me in an odd way, a way I can’t decipher. I nod, smiling and drinking like a madwoman. “Let’s dance,” I tell him.

Sebastian needs no persuasion. He takes my free hand and moves us to the clear part of the room. There is this wild flurry of music, dark and dirty and swirling with strings. I feel him pressing against me as I move, our bodies in sync. It's both familiar and foreign, what we are doing.

I think I’m dancing with him in this way to distract myself. Perhaps I’m cruel, but being drunk and dancing with a friend in a way that is very friendly is bringing me a joy I have not felt in a long time. This is how I felt kissing the boy who worked at the pub in London over the summer. I felt wanted and seen, desired by another. And right now, I think that was what Sebastian wanted. To have someone want him. 

He is whispering into my ear, things I can’t hear, but it all feels so, so, so warm. His lips near my ear, the way his hands are holding my arms, how solid his body is. I’m convinced any man in this room could hold me and have this effect on me, I just want to be touched and known.

Someone across the room shouts something about being low on liquor, and in a moment of confusion and drunkenness, I speak up. “I’ll go get some from the kitchen!”

The room erupts in cheering and hollering at my offer. I am smiling and grinning, so happy and so needed at this moment by everyone. Everyone needs me, everyone wants my help, my alcohol, my presence, my body.

Sebastian leans down again towards my ear. “Do you want me t- to come… with you?” he says, slipping and slurring his words. His eyes are dazed and excited at the same time, his normal boyish charm replaced by something far more sinister than I am used to. So much so that it frightens me for a moment.

What have I implied?

Pressed bodies and roaming hands, and now I am thinking that he thinks I want more. I look at him, how he drunkenly stares at my lips and neck, and I am afraid for what comes in the morning when I must face him again.

“No,” I tell him, moving away from his touch. He holds onto one of my hands, staring at my chest. No, not my chest, but rather what is dangling there. 

His eyes stay fixed there. “I love that you wear my necklace,” he says, his voice laced with a sickeningly sweet venom. 

His necklace, except it was not really a symbol of him. The necklace with braille carved into it. I did not think much of it when I put the silver jewelry on, as it matched my dress more than the gold chain I had. And now that he has pointed it out, I think of no one but Ominis. How he touched the necklace and wore an odd expression when he did so, over a year ago in this very room.

I break away from Sebastian, my head spinning. “I need to get… more, um, wine,” I say, flustered by his tone. The way he looks at me, almost hungrily, sets me off. The room feels too small as I stumble out of it and head towards the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as I can. 

Walking, walking, walking down the hall. How dark it is now, how quiet. Except it isn’t quiet, no, I don’t think it is. I hear someone else in the corridor, someone else who is also stumbling near the kitchen. Stopping dead in my tracks, thinking perhaps I will be caught by a professor, I stand silent and still.

I hear the body again before I see it, stumbling against the wall and touching it for guidance. The tall thin body, the careful steps, normally perfect hair messed up and in his eyes.

It’s Ominis.

I don’t think I breathe as he steps nearer and nearer to me. He does not seem to notice the other body in his presence. His walking gives him away, showing that he is drunker than even I am. In one swift moment his movements betray him and he stumbles towards the ground.

I don’t think that, even with everything he has done to me, there is a world where I am so cruel that I would leave him there. I step towards him, touching his shoulder lightly. His head snaps up, face twisted with a knowing expression.

“Aislynn,” he purrs, dragging my name out like he doesn't want it to end. “I know it’s you. I can smell the smoke on your skin. You think I don’t know, but you smoke. Such a shame you do, I imagine it could ruin you if you do it for too long. How I would hate to imagine your beautiful face hardened and dirty from smoking. I try to imagine you, I really do. Sebastian has described you to me a number of times. I know your hair is long, almost always in a braid. I know it’s so light that it’s almost white. I know so much that you think I don’t know.”

My hands freezes on his shoulder, my mouth open wide. He is drunk. That is the only reason these words are coming out like this. Does he not know that my hair is short and jagged, all because of him? He is still babbling while I try to process my thoughts, my own mind spinning.

“I miss being near you. I miss how you smell like mint and lavender. I play the piano for no one now, did you know that? How I long to have you listen to me again. Did you ever try to play again? We could have played together, beautifully I am sure, with just a bit of practice. So, so beautiful.”

My mouth can’t come up with anything to say. I am watching him speak, his eyes closed as if he is trying to remember everything. Pulling him to his feet, I steady him.

“Ominis, listen to me. Go to your room, drink a big glass of water and drink a pain tonic so that your head won’t hurt too bad in the morning,” I say, directing him towards the common room. He reaches out to touch the wall, turning his head back once. 

“Please don’t leave me alone again, Aislynn,” he says, still drawing out my name. Before I can respond, he speaks again. “I miss you terribly.”

My mouth opens to respond, but my brain has not caught up yet. The room is practically spinning, the only thing keeping me grounded is the blonde boy in front of me who is spouting nonsense and drunkenly speaking at me in a way I’ve never heard. “Ominis, I think you need to go to bed. Stop saying things you’ll regret in the morning.”

He smiles, his face beautiful and cruel in the dark lighting. “I could never regret saying these things to you, Aislynn. I regret those other things, though.”

My cheeks flush hot. I know what he is referring to, and I do not want to have that conversation with him now or ever. “You need to go, Ominis. Leave me for now,” I say, firmly. I watch as he nods, his drunk smile still hanging from his lips.

“Good night, Aislynn. I will regret our parting,” he says, his voice still slurred and loud. I watch as he stumbles off, not wanting him to turn towards me again.

The hallway is closing in on me. The very air in my lungs is poison, I can hardly breathe. How does he expect me to respond to him when he speaks to me in this manner? Of course, he was not thinking with all of the alcohol swirling in his brain. The alcohol swirling in my head is not as confident as his, or perhaps I am not drunk enough.

Alcohol. That’s what I need right now. Not just for me, but for the dozens of drunk Slytherin’s waiting for me to bring some. The kitchen is right here, with no one watching the door. 

Slipping in with a stumble, I find a cabinet where cheap spirits are waiting to be stolen. Before collecting enough to drown the students, I open a half full bottle of vodka and take three heavy gulps. Now the warmth in me is all encompassing. I am flying, full of rage and sadness and lust for some unknown person.

Grabbing two bottles of whiskey and the remainder of the vodka, I bump my way out of the kitchen as quietly as possible in my current state. There is nothing but my thoughts to carry me back to the room.

I am sex, I am fire, I am as beautiful as a dove in the sky. My blood is whispering to me, whispering these filthy, dirty, things to me as I walk back to the common room. Telling me to fuck, to kill, to possess. Things I want to do right now, all of them, maybe all at once. 

The common room is too bright, too loud in comparison to the hallway. The room erupts in cheers when I emerge with the bottles of liquor. Imelda grabs them from me, whispering something I don’t know in the process. My face is hot, my cheeks feel like they are on fire. I don’t care, I feel so good. Better than I have ever felt. So much so that I barely remember the interaction I had with a blonde man in the hallway fifteen minutes ago.

Despite the state of me, I stumble towards the table of drinks again. I see that someone has added some wine, perhaps from a personal stash. I pour wine into a goblet, sipping the tart liquid. At this point, I don’t think I can get any worse. 

Imelda is dancing with a boy I don’t recognize, and I almost consider joining them when I see him sitting alone on a couch in the corner. I set my eyes on the brown haired boy, remembering how he moved against me before I left the room.

Sebastian looks almost as bad as me, but in a sense I have never seen him look more beautiful. His face is pink, freckles almost being illuminated. Messy hair and sweat on his face, probably from a combination of alcohol and dancing. I saunter over to him, having already decided to do something stupid. I needed to be wanted, and what better person to want me than him.

His eyes rake over me as I approach him, his legs spread wide as he sits with his back fully against the sofa. “There you are,” he slurs, offering a crooked smile. I bend down, my knees on the couch, and whisper into his ear.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” 

The boldness surprises both of us I think, as I feel a blush that goes all the way to my ears. He searches my face hungrily before nodding and standing with a wobble. I take his hand gently, leading him up the stairs that lead to the corridor of dorms.

Except I don’t go into my dorm. Or his. That is the one rule I have made for myself tonight, to not put a closed door between us and the people downstairs. Not if I want to face myself in the morning.

Halfway up the stairs, I feel his lips press onto the back of my neck. Shuddering, I find a corner for him to press me into. There is a mess of lips and teeth and saliva, mixed with our drunkenness and uncertainty. His hand comes up to hold my neck, our mouths fighting against one another with lust. 

“Let.. me take.. you to my.. room,” he says, panting against my mouth. I shake my head, and he attaches his lips to my neck with the manner of someone who is trying to convince another. “Better not do things we regret,” I say, halfing moaning.

He pulls back and looks at me. “We may regret not doing it,” he says, seeming suddenly solemn. I shake my head again, not able to speak. Sebastian looks at me, his eyes dazed and hazy with lust. Without another word, he nods and crashes his mouth to mine.

I let him do this. I let him put his tongue into my mouth with haste. He moans my name, and I let him. He palms one of my breasts, and I let him. At this moment, I feel wanted and needed. It was nice to be wanted by someone, even if I was not so sure about wanting him. 

Because I think, in this moment of drunken consciousness, the person I wanted was still stumbling around drunk in the hallway somewhere. That he was still thinking of me, of my smoke. That he still believed my hair was long and braided down my back.

That even though I hated him and the pain he caused me, I wanted him.