#i heard other stores store them behind the counter or in stock rooms

[indigomovn]

to all the kpop fans who go to stores like target, barnes & noble, and walmart to look at albums, only for you to rip them open and steal all the inclusions, shame on you. don’t act surprised when every store starts locking them with security tags and acrylic boxes, store them behind the counter, make them online exclusive or simply not sell them anymore because you rather commit a crime instead of purchasing one like any other normal person would.

[atimeofyourlife]

A group thing?

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: no upside down au | rated: t | wc: 944 | tags: no upside down au, pre-steddie, steve x corroded coffin Steve gets a job in a record store in Chicago, and a familiar group of guys come in looking for a place for their band to play. Who knows where it could go

Getting out of Hawkins was the best thing that had ever happened to Steve. The plan had been cemented between him and Robin when they started working at Family Video after the freak fire at Starcourt, the result of an electrical fault caused by the cut corners and corrupt construction. They were both going to work as many hours as possible at Family Video, so they could save up ready to move away after Robin graduated high school, with Steve planning to follow her to wherever she went to college.

The plan led them to Chicago, with Robin getting accepted to study linguistics at the University of Chicago. They found a small, relatively affordable two bed apartment, and did everything they could to make it theirs. While Robin worked on her degree, Steve found work at an independent record store. Even though it was still retail, he found it much better than working at Family Video and Scoops Ahoy had been. There was no uniform, the manager was pretty chill, and employees could choose anything from stock to play over the store's sound system. Steve did tend to play a lot of Queen when it was his turn to pick, but he was learning a lot about other genres from his coworkers' tastes in music.

But Steve's favorite part of the job was the live music. There was a small stage area that local bands could book and come in and play for free, in a chance to get more experience playing. Some of them weren't the best, but some of them were amazing. It was something that made it feel less like work. Some bands were pretty regular, and Steve was starting to form a real friendship with some of them.

"Hi, how can I help?" Steve asked as he came back to the counter from the stock room where he'd been processing a delivery with his coworker. There were a group of guys all waiting around, so he assumed that they were a band wanting to get a play spot. There was something familiar about them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

"Er, hi. We've just moved to the area, and a buddy of ours told us you let bands play here for free." The guy at the front with long hair said, seeming to be the leader.

"Yeah, we do that. Just give me a moment." Steve ducked down to grab the folder from under the counter. "So the boss is the one who makes the final decisions on all the bands, so I'll just need to take your details, and she'll call you back to arrange everything. And I can give you the information sheet with everything you need to know."

The band took the sheet, and murmured a little amongst themselves.

"Okay, so if I can start with the band name?" Steve asked, pulling out a sign up sheet.

"Corroded Coffin." One of them replied.

Steve wrote it down, and tried to make conversation as he did. "You said you guys just moved here? Where'd you come from?"

"This shitty, small town in Indiana. You've probably never heard of it."

"Uh huh. And a phone number we can contact you on?"

The number got rattled off for Steve to note down.

"That sounds a lot like where I'm from. You wouldn't be from Hawkins, would you?"

"Yeah, we are."

"I thought you guys seemed familiar. We probably went to high school together." Steve said. "And your names?"

Each said their names as Steve wrote them down. The last one, who had seemed to be the leader, "Eddie Munson."

Steve looked down at the sheet, before looking up at Eddie. "You used to sell, right? At a picnic bench in the woods behind the school."

"You used to buy? Then do we get your name, big boy." Eddie asked, leaning on the counter.

"Steve. Harrington." Steve replied, watching hesitantly as they all seemed surprised.

"King Steve, what brings you to working in a place like this?"

"Trying to make rent. My parents cut me off after I graduated, and I'm pretty sure it would be a total disownment if they knew half the shit I got up to now. So me and my best friend moved up here after she graduated. She's in college and I'm making sure we can afford our shitty two bedroom apartment."

"Now I want to know what you get up to." One of the others said, Steve was pretty sure he'd said his name was Gareth.

"Let's just say I know what the bandanna in Munson's back pocket stands for." Steve winked as he said it, and couldn't help laughing as they all spluttered slightly. "I've got all the information I need, and I'll make sure to put in a good word with the boss for you."

Steve was working when Corroded Coffin were playing at the store for the first time. He was on hand to help them get set up and make sure everything went smoothly.

"I think that's everything, you guys can start playing when you're ready, and I'll let you know when your time is nearly up. Do you need anything else?"

"How about a kiss for good luck?" Eddie asked.

Steve smiled before pulling Eddie in by the shirt and kissing him deeply.

"Hey, what about the rest of us?" Gareth called from behind his drum kit.

Steve just shrugged, before going around and kissing each of them softly on the lips.

He made his way back behind the counter, looking forward to what could come between him and the band. Friendship, or maybe even something more.

[matcha3mochi]

roommates // chapter 1

synopsis: living with your childhood friends can't be that bad, right?

various! jjk x reader

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

next

The chaos began six months ago, but in a way, it had been brewing for longer than that. Life had a funny way of throwing curveballs, and your most recent one hit harder than usual.

It all started when the company you'd been working at for the past few years—your first “real” adult job—suddenly went bankrupt. There had been warning signs, of course. Layoffs here and there, hushed conversations in the break room, an ever-increasing workload as the higher-ups scrambled to keep things afloat. But no one expected the announcement to come so suddenly.

One minute, you were mindlessly typing up reports in your tiny cubicle; the next, you were sitting in a mandatory company-wide meeting, staring blankly at the CEO as he delivered the bad news with all the enthusiasm of a man who had clearly checked out months ago.

"We regret to inform you," he had said, voice monotone, "that due to unforeseen financial difficulties, the company will be ceasing all operations immediately."

Immediately? You barely had time to process what was happening before your coworkers started packing up their desks in stunned silence. The moment you walked out of that office for the last time, you were no longer gainfully employed—and without severance, to make things worse.

The first few weeks after the bankruptcy were a blur. Your savings were quickly drying up, and the job market was ruthless. Nothing seemed to stick—no matter how many applications you sent out, you couldn't catch a break. Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, your landlord gave you notice that the building was being renovated, forcing you to move out immediately. Now you were jobless and about to be homeless.

You sighed as you pushed open the door to the convenience store where you now worked. A far cry from your corporate job, but at least it paid the bills… well, some of them. You’d been lucky to snag the position, honestly—Mai, your coworker, had been the one to suggest applying. They’d been desperate for staff, and you were desperate for anything.

Still, going from a cushy office job to stocking shelves, manning the register, and dealing with cranky customers at all hours of the day (and sometimes night) was jarring. You hadn’t exactly dreamed of a career in convenience retail, but after the whirlwind of the last few months, stability, however temporary, was a blessing.

"Hey, Y/N," Mai called from behind the counter, flashing you a grin as you entered. "Rough day already?"

"Is it that obvious?" you groaned, dropping your bag behind the register and grabbing your apron.

Mai smirked. "You've got that ‘I’ve had it with everything’ vibe. It's probably the living situation, huh?"

"You have no idea," you muttered, tying your apron and preparing yourself for the usual rush of customers.

“I went from a sleek office chair to a creaky stool behind the register. I think I need a degree in psychology to handle the late-night customers.”

Mai chuckled, nodding. “Welcome to retail! You learn to read people fast. Just last week, I had a guy try to haggle for a pack of gum like we were at a flea market.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you imagined the scene. “At least it’s not boring, right?”

“True, true! You’ll have some wild stories to tell.” Mai leaned on the counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Speaking of stories, have you heard about the guy who keeps coming in and trying to buy the entire stock of energy drinks? I swear, it’s like he thinks he’s prepping for a marathon.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “No way! Does he actually drink them all?”

“Who knows? But it’s hilarious watching him get all defensive when I tell him we have a limit per customer.” Mai rolled her eyes playfully. “Just the other night, he tried to convince me that he needed them for a ‘very important project.’”

“Right, because that’s a totally valid reason,” you replied with a laugh as the first wave of customers trickled in.

As you settled into a rhythm of ringing up snacks and drinks, your mind wandered to thoughts of reconnecting with your childhood friends. You hadn’t seen them in ages, and the idea of a reunion felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. Just as you were about to ring up a customer, your phone buzzed on the counter, drawing your attention. You quickly glanced at the screen and saw a message from Geto in your childhood friend group chat.

Geto: “Anyone in Tokyo these days? I’m moving there next month.”

You stared at the message for a moment. You hadn’t known he was moving. Coincidentally, you had been planning to relocate for job opportunities, and a strange feeling crept up on you. One by one, the others replied.

Nanami: “Same here. I didn’t know you were moving, Geto.”

Toji: “In town for work. We should catch up.”

Your stomach twisted in a mixture of excitement and dread. You hadn’t seen them in months—everyone had grown distant since childhood, and while you occasionally exchanged pleasantries on birthdays or holidays, life had taken you all in different directions. When you replied, you kept it casual, not wanting to reveal just how much your life had unraveled recently.

You: “I’m also in Tokyo! Let’s meet up sometime!”

It didn’t take long for Gojo to suggest drinks. Of course he did.

The bar Gojo picked was, predictably, obnoxious. It was one of those trendy places with dim lighting and overpriced cocktails. You hadn’t been sure what to expect when you stepped inside, but the moment you spotted the familiar faces, a wave of nostalgia hit you hard.

You spotted Gojo first, waving wildly from across the room. His grin was as wide and infectious as ever, his bright white hair standing out in the dim lighting. He was wearing his usual oversized black sweater, sleeves pushed up to reveal his lean, toned arms, and his sunglasses perched atop his head as if he were making some grand fashion statement.

“Y/N!” he called, motioning you over to the booth where the others were already gathered.

You took a deep breath and approached, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling in your chest. Geto greeted you with his usual calm, easygoing smile, his long dark hair tied back in a loose bun, a few strands framing his face. He wore a simple, well-fitted black shirt that showed off the broadness of his shoulders and the subtle tattoos that peeked out from beneath the sleeves.

Nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgment. His blonde hair was neatly slicked back, and he wore a tailored gray suit, though the jacket was discarded to reveal his dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Despite the setting, he looked as though he could walk into a boardroom at any moment, his sharp features giving off an air of quiet authority.

Toji, leaning casually against the booth with his muscular arms crossed, offered a smirk that hadn’t changed in all the years you’d known him. His dark hair was tousled in that effortlessly cool way, and he was dressed in a simple black shirt that clung to his well-defined chest and arms. There was something rugged about him, a sharpness in his jawline and the way his emerald-green eyes appraised you that made it clear he was still the same cocky troublemaker you remembered.

“It’s been a while, huh?” Geto said, giving you a friendly hug as you sat down.

“Too long,” you said, hugging him briefly before taking a seat between him and Nanami. Toji was on the opposite end of the table, casually sipping a drink as he observed the group with that smirk you remembered all too well.

Nanami, ever the stoic, gave you a polite nod. “How’s everything?”

You forced a smile, not wanting to dive into the whole ‘I just lost my job and am probably going to be homeless soon’ conversation. “It’s… been better. But it’s good to see you all.”

Gojo slid a drink across the table toward you with a grin. “You look like you need this more than anyone.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of what you immediately recognized as something far too strong for the start of the night. Gojo always had a knack for picking the worst possible drink choices.

The first hour passed in a whirlwind of reminiscing. You laughed about old childhood memories—the ridiculous pranks Gojo used to pull, the time Geto convinced you all to sneak out to watch a horror movie, and Nanami’s early obsession with studying that kept him from joining in on most of the chaos. Toji, of course, had been the rebellious one, always dragging you into some kind of mischief.

“Remember when Y/N got stuck in that tree because she tried to follow Toji up there?” Gojo laughed, eyes glinting with mischief.

You groaned. “I was six.”

“And you were so mad at Toji for leaving you up there!” Geto added, chuckling.

Toji raised an eyebrow, a smug grin creeping onto his face. “You weren’t ready for the climb.”

“You could have helped me down!” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Nanami shook his head. “I was the one who had to call for help. No one else seemed concerned that she was stuck up there for an hour.”

“That’s because you were the responsible one,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

Gojo leaned in, his grin widening. “Anyway, what’s everyone up to these days? I know Nanami’s still a corporate slave, but what about the rest of you?”

Geto was the first to speak. “I’m starting a nonprofit. Trying to get things off the ground.”

That sounded about right for him—always the one to care about bigger causes. You nodded approvingly. “That’s awesome, Geto.”

Toji shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “I’m doing freelance work. You know, keeping busy.”

Gojo snorted. “Freelance work? You mean muscle-for-hire.”

“Something like that,” Toji replied with a smirk.

The conversation moved around the table, each of them sharing what they’d been up to in the years since you’d drifted apart. It felt strangely natural, like no time had passed, and yet, so much had changed.

Eventually, the spotlight turned to you.

“What about you, Y/N?” Geto asked, his gaze soft but curious. “How’s life treating you?”

“I’m... getting by,” you said vaguely, swirling your drink as you avoided eye contact. “Had some changes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Gojo, always a little too perceptive for his own good, leaned in with a grin. “Changes, huh? Come on, you’re hiding something. Spill.”

You sighed. “Fine. My company went under, and I’ve been stuck working at a convenience store for now.”

“That sucks,” Geto said sympathetically. “Are you okay? Do you need help finding something new?”

You appreciated their concern but shrugged it off. “I’ll manage. It’s not ideal, but I’ll figure it out.”

Toji, who had been watching you closely the whole time, spoke up. “You still looking for a place to stay?”

You blinked, surprised that he knew about your housing situation. “Uh, yeah. My landlord’s renovating, so I’ve got to move out soon.”

“Why not stay with us?” Gojo blurted out, clearly not thinking it through.

Nanami’s brow furrowed immediately. “Gojo, don’t—”

“I’m serious!” Gojo interrupted, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “We’ve got space, and it’d be just like old times, right?”

You laughed, though the idea seemed ridiculous. “Are you serious? All of us, living together again? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Geto chuckled softly. “It’d be chaotic, for sure, but it could be fun.”

“Or a disaster,” Nanami added dryly, giving Gojo a pointed look.

But the more you thought about it, the more the idea stuck. You needed a place, and as crazy as it sounded, the thought of living with them again—of being close to your childhood friends—was oddly comforting.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found yourself nodding. “Alright. But only until I get back on my feet.”

Gojo whooped in victory, raising his glass. “To our new roommate!”

And just like that, your fate was sealed. The reunion had brought you back together, and now, you were officially moving in with the four of them. What could possibly go wrong?

[eternalchaoschocolaterain]

The Most Powerful Waitress

Chapter six Will post the last one here tomorrow. It's already complete on AO3

Chapter one: School's out

Chapter two: I'd hire me

Chapter three: No cure for me

Chapter four: Rinse and repeat

Chapter five: Patience

Chapter seven (final chapter): No one knows

@whatwouldvalerydo

I don't know

A Snyde never gave up, so the next morning Merula pushed herself to get up early, slung a bag over her should and went back to Hogsmeade. Losing her patience yesterday wasn’t her fault, it was all on that guy. She’d been doing great before he came along and she’d fucking prove it to anyone who’d hire her. And hire her they would!

Luckily, Zonko’s had a note in the window saying they were looking for help. Selling some kids joke items couldn’t be worse than anything else she’d tried so far. Plus with how annoying kids could be they’d be a great way to practice her patience some more and she doubted any kid would be dumb enough to behave like the guy from yesterday.

The bright coloured store smelled like dungbombs and Merula wondered why Bilton didn’t have any spells in place to cover that smell up. But knowing him, he might like the smell. He stood behind the counter, grinning at a couple of kids who were arguing whether dungbombs or nose-biting teacups were better. The one arguing for the teacups was right: all the fun, none of the smell.

She walked over with a confident grin and put her hands on the counter. ‘I’m the help you need and I can start right now.’

Bilton frowned at her. ‘I don’t know about that. I heard what happened last night-’

‘Then you know it wasn’t my fault.’ Merula cut him off, because she would not start her day with another rejection. She would practice her patience and she’d practice it here! ‘I can sell stuff to some kids. Look!’ She walked over to the arguing kids. ‘Obviously the teacup is the better choice. You want to smell like dungbombs for the next week? Everyone will know it’s you.’ The kids shared a look and took a step backwards, but Merula pressed on. ‘Just buy the teacup. You’ll thank me later.’

She looked at them expectantly and the kids shuffled away to put the dungbombs back on the shelf. Bilton rung them up with his jovial laughter, while the kids looked over their shoulders a few times.

‘So, I’m hired, right?’ Merula asked when the kids left.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Didn’t you see what I did there? I’m a natural.’

They stared at each other. What was he thinking questioning her! All because of that absolute fucking twat from yesterday? That wasn’t her fault and she wouldn’t let Bilton deny her the chance to prove it.

‘I guess you can try out today and we’ll see how it goes.’

‘Good.’

Only a day, but whatever. It would be enough. Bilton let her behind the counter and showed her the cash till. Basically she would be the cashier, so her job would be to calculate. Bilton would go around the shop, joking with the kids and taking stock of everything. Easy.

The morning went about in slow fashion. Merula rang up purchases and even wrapped a few. Bilton kept his eye on her, but she made sure to put on her best Madam Rosmerta face and after a while he seemed to relax. The kids in the store were better than the costumers at the Three Broomsticks. They were loud, but some of their pranking plans were unexpectedly quite funny. The smell seemed not as bad after a while, though she figured she needed a long bath to get rid of it when her shift ended.

‘Why don’t you take a little break?’ Bilton said after Merula rang up another group of kids. ‘There’s an owl for you in the break room.’

Curious, Merula left her spot. The break room was Bilton’s own kitchen, a simple white painted wooden kitchen, located directly behind the stock room. Even with the window open and a pot of tea damping on the table this room stank of dungbombs too. She fed the owl a piece of a biscuit, untied the letter and tore it open. Ismelda’s familiar writing greeted her.

Merula,

We’ve settled into an apartment in New York. The city is huge, with lots of flickering lights. I hate it and have bought the thickest curtains I could find. The apartment is so dark now that we have candles everywhere.

Ben’s been busy with his job. It’s different than he expected. The muggles here are used to seeing weird things and most of it is chalked up to aliens. No really. Lots of talk about aliens here. Most of the times he’s needed for people pranking muggles, or when someone lets some creature escape or shapeshifts in the middle of the street. People are so dumb, it happens quite a lot. Somehow he still likes it and I guess his stories are kind of funny.

My job is good. I barely talk to anyone and when I do it’s all about history. I have my own room where I can research and date artefacts. They also let me work on my own research. I’ve been looking into the relations between the muggles and the native magical community here to help with dating. It’s quite gruesome.

To be honest I’m happy. It’s a weird feeling, but I think I could get used to this.

Hope you’re doing well,

Ismelda

PS: You owe me five galleons.

Merula rolled her eyes. Typical Ismelda to take something said in a fight so serious. But whatever, she’d pay. She read the letter again. Good for her for being happy. With her perfect apartment, perfect boyfriend and perfect career. How the fuck was she supposed to respond to that?

Glad you’re doing well. I’ve been fired from five jobs this week. Oh and Quinn moved out the day ‘the retreat’ was over and I hate it?

Yeah that would make for a nice letter. She chucked the thing in her bag, she could answer later. The letter and possible responses kept running through her mind while she counted some more and rung up some more kids. It was a slow day and most of her time was spent staring ahead. She almost missed the whiny costumers at the Three Broomsticks, at least that hadn’t been boring. If she’d known today would be this boring she’d have brought a book. The store even emptied out and Bilton came up to her, twisting his moustache.

‘I have to run a little errand. If you want, I could close the shop, that way you could have a long lunch break.’

Merula narrowed her eyes, she saw right through his offer. ‘I’m fine.’

‘It’s only your first day. I could understand if you didn’t want to be alone yet.’

‘I can handle the store by myself for a few minutes. I’ve been doing great so far, haven’t I?’

‘That’s true.’ Bilton admitted with a laugh, but it didn’t fill the room like his usual laughter did. ‘Okay, I’ll let you to it. It’s a quiet day after all. Just close the shop if you feel the need to, alright? I won’t mind.’

‘I will.’ She wouldn’t, because there was nothing that could happen that could make her need to close the shop. Except lunch.

‘I’ll be off then. I’ll see you in a bit.’

How hard did he think this fucking job was? That would make a nice addition to her response for Ismelda.

I’m working at Zonko’s now where Bilton doesn’t seem to think I can handle counting some coins by myself. What does he think I’ll do? Steal? Like I need the money.

After lunch she opened the store again. The sign had only turned back for a few minutes when a horrid clanging sound filled the room. Quinn walked towards her, looking as surprised to see her as Merula felt. For a tiny moment she thought today would get better. They’d have a nice conversation where Quinn would be all enthusiastic about her job, her home and seeing Merula later. Then she would gush over her and tell her how amazing she was. Just the cheering up she needed right now. But to her even bigger surprise Quinn held the source of the clanging: a toy monkey banging its cymbals together.

‘Can’t you turn that off?’ Merula shouted over the noise.

Quinn shook her head. ‘I wanted to ask Bilton for help with this. Is he around?’

 ‘Bilton?! What the fuck?! You think I can’t help you with it?’

‘No, of course. You can help-’

‘Merula? Quinn Lee?’ Tulip walked up to them, with her toad Dennis on her shoulder. ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s from work.’

‘Your work just gave you that? That’s brilliant!’

‘They did, but how are you, I haven’t seen you in ages?’ Quinn asked with a smile.

‘Dennis and I no longer conform to the construct of time. As far as I’m concerned, we all exist in a blank space of creativity and ambition. It’s the best way to work on my inventions and that monkey of yours is giving me all new ideas.’

‘You’re an inventor?’ Tulip grinned at Quinn as an answer and Quinn returned the look. ‘You did it! That’s amazing. I’m so happy it’s working out for you.’

Look at Quinn being all sweet and gushy. Perfect Tulip with her perfect job doing so much better than Merula. Tulip did what she wanted, Ismelda did what she wanted and she’d heard Quinn’s friends yesterday. They all did what they wanted. Haywood the potioneer, Egwu the fashion expert, Tonks the auror and Murphy the quidditch commentator. Copper had his fun obliviating muggles and Ismelda even said she was happy. Happy! She hated being happy!

‘Brilliant! Does everyone have a fantastic career except me?!’

‘Merula, calm down.’ Quinn pleaded.

‘Shut up!’ Without thinking, or looking back, Merula stomped off.

Let Quinn date Tulip if she was so amazing! Or one of her other friends. She kept going, internally cursing everything and everyone. Another terrible job and to top it off she had practically begged Bilton for it. When she could do so much better! How had she managed to sink this low? Thoughts kept running through her head as she stomped on, until she realised she had walked all the way out of Hogsmeade. All around her were trees and grass, no building in sight.

She needed to calm down, find something relaxing for a moment. It took her only a few moments to think of what she wanted. She apparated to a spot just outside of the Hogwarts grounds and hurried over to creature care. Professor Kettleburn had insisted that she was welcome to visit the creatures whenever she wanted.

The puffskeins lived in a large grass enclosure with lots of hideouts and holes. Throughout the enclosure stood various objects. Some were for the puffies to play with on their own, others for people to play with the puffies. Most puffskeins were wandering about, humming a little. The humming became louder when she greeted them and entered their enclosure. It had been over a month since she last saw them, but the puffies always remembered her. She had been visiting them sometimes multiple times a week when she was still in school and had been doing so since third year. Throwing puffies around was one of the best ways to calm down.

She sat in front of the puffskein-sized quidditch hoops and the poffle ran up to her, climbing in her lap, all eager to be thrown around. The moment her fingers closed around one of the soft little furballs some tension left her body. One by one she threw them through the hoops, their happy humming grew louder and soon they had Merula making her own happy sounds. Puffskeins were the absolute best.

They flew about as she tried to throw away her feelings of anger and guilt. She’d gotten herself fired again. Bilton would rightfully be pissed when he found out what she did. So much for being the Most Patient Witch. Her arms grew tired and she laid down. The poffle got on top of her, because one thing they liked almost as much as being thrown around were cuddles on a warm pillow. She ran her fingers through their fur, letting her body relax.

It didn’t seem fair. Life after Hogwarts should be great! All she’d wanted was a good job, a great career, something that would make people look up to her. Make them forget about her name, who her family was and say nice things like what Quinn said to Tulip.

Quinn!

She shot up, making the puffskeins fall to her side. How long had she been here? She was supposed to come see her apartment for the first time today. If Quinn even wanted to see her after she yelled at her. Fuck. What a lovely girlfriend had she been. This would certainly go a long way in proving Quinn made the right choice by staying with her.

She made sure the puffies stayed in their enclosure and hurried towards Quinn’s apartment. It took a moment to find Quinn’s building, because all buildings looked alike in the side street to Diagon Alley. But its name was etched into the wood above the door, so she knew she had the right one. Quinn’s apartment was easier to find, the one with the fox doormat, but no one answered when she knocked and knocked again. Could she still be out? Or maybe she’d gone to look for her. That meant she’d probably be waiting for her to get home. Yes, that had to be it.

Except it wasn’t. Her own home was as empty as Quinn’s seemed to be. Her mind began to race. She’d messed up. She’d messed up again and this was the last straw. Why would Quinn even want to be near her? She’d probably fled to a friend and would never speak to her again.

Calm down you idiot. She’s not like that and you know it.

No, that’s right. At the very least she’d write a letter. So there had to be a letter. She scoured her whole home, even the rooms she only ever entered to clear some dust when she remembered to, but no letter anywhere. Her bag had somehow made it back to her home, but nothing in there either. Had Quinn been here, or had Bilton send it over when he realised she left? Fuck, she owed him an apology too, but that would have come later. First Quinn. Had to find Quinn. If she wasn’t here, or at her own place and hadn’t left a letter then what happened? Had something happened?!

She had to track her down. Return to the place she’d last seen her. Thankfully Zonko’s was closed now, because that gave her an excuse not to come over and apologize just yet. To find Quinn she painted a clear picture of her in her mind. She pictured her bright smile, fiery red curls and freckled skin and let the desire to find her overrule every other thought and feeling when she cast what she hoped to be the best tracking spell for the situation.

Against her expectations the spell showed that Quinn hadn’t apparated, but rather walked from Zonko’s. That made this part a bit easier. Merula hoped it stayed like this when she followed the footsteps out of Hogsmeade, in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The large forest stretched out way beyond both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and when both were a good distance away the footsteps led her inside.

A few feet into the forest almost all light disappeared, even from the pathway, and she had to light her wand to keep going. After a while the track led her off the pathway and that’s when she heard the clanging again. She quickened her steps, hoping that Quinn hadn’t abandoned the thing here. But no, in a small clearing, just big enough to let in some light from the grey sky, stood Quinn. That terrible monkey sat a few feet away from her. Next to her floated some books, parchment and a quill.

‘Quinn!’ The books dipped for a moment when Quinn heard her. ‘What are you doing? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!’ Merula still had to be loud to be heard over the monkey.

‘I’m sorry, I forgot about the time, I didn’t mean to worry you.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Merula wrapped her arms tight around her and buried her face in her neck, inhaling her scent. Quinn hugged her back, trying to say some more apologies, but Merula cut her off. ‘It’s alright, love. It’s alright. I’m glad I found you and-’

She hated this part, especially because there should’ve been no more need for it now, but she messed up again. Being close now she saw the bags under her eyes and noticed that Quinn wore the same clothes as yesterday. She remembered the little disappearance of her smile and how she’d literally asked for help earlier. Some girlfriend she had been. She had to make this right. Do better.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you and storming off.’

‘It’s okay, I know you’ve had a rough week.’

‘Unlike you, you want to say?’ She gestured at the horrid clanging monster. ‘Can I help you with that thing?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve tried so much already.’

Quinn stepped back to let the parchment float in front of Merula. It turned out to be a long, long list of crossed out spells. Most of them were aimed to destroy the monkey, others focused on stopping the noise. Nothing helpful came to her after seeing that list.

‘Then let’s sit and ignore the thing, you look like you could use a break.’ To her relief Quinn didn’t protest and she guided her towards the nearest tree, where she invited her to curl up against her. ‘Want to tell me about the monkey?’

‘It’s my first work assignment and it’s cursed to keep following whoever gets it around and keep clanging forever.’

‘It follows you?’

Quinn nodded against her. ‘My neighbours are already mad at me, because it doesn’t let itself be dampened in any way. I’ve been trying since I got it yesterday to get it to shut up or destroy it, but nothing works.’

Realization dawned on Merula and she swallowed to keep her questions inside. Instead, she stroked Quinn’s back. She knew why Quinn didn’t come to her last night and her actions today had done nothing to make Quinn feel like she could come if there was a next time.

‘I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me.’

‘At least you got a good night’s sleep now.’

‘I don’t want that. I want to be there for you. I’m sorry for yelling and walking away from you earlier today.’

‘What was that about anyway?’

Quinn looked up at her, her green eyes curious. No judgement. Merula’s chest tightened and she snuggled closer against Quinn, hiding her face in her curls.

‘I thought everything would be better now. We defeated R, got everyone behind bars. Now we would just get to live. And I thought it’d be easy, but it’s not. I thought nothing could mess my life up anymore,’ her voice cracked, ‘but I’m the one messing up my life. Got myself fired six times in one week, while everyone has these big careers. I yelled at you when I could’ve been there for you. I messed everything up. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t even know what I want.’

‘You could take a break, you don’t need to work.’

‘I can’t just be jobless!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because-’

What if people thought she was lazy? Incapable? Or worse, what if it proved what they thought about her? That someone with her background wasn’t fit for society.

The Most Powerful Witch should have a career that lived up to her title, not whatever she did now. No job meant no recognition, but on the other hand, this situation made her look like a failure. What she did today would get her no favours. Who would hire a her knowing she would storm off when things didn’t go her way? Besides, doing stupid jobs for the fuck of it wouldn’t help her figure things out.

‘I don’t know.’ She paused for a moment. ‘What about you? Do you even like your job so far?’

‘No. I have a nice coworker, but my boss hates me because Moody and Dumbledore forced me on him. He gave me this monkey to spite me and won’t tell me how to solve it. But I know he knows, because he said a lot of agents have gotten this case. He also said if I don’t solve it that he’ll fire me.’ Quinn sighed deeply. ‘You’re right, life after Hogwarts is not easy.’

Merula almost suggested for Quinn to let herself get fired, but she knew better. Quinn could be as stubborn as she was when trying to prove herself. Instead she thought of something to cheer her up.

‘I liked the first month.’

‘Me too.’

‘Maybe we could do something like that soon, it doesn’t have to be a month, a weekend is good too.’

‘I’d like that.’ Quinn turned to give her a kiss. Then her eyes widened. ‘It stopped.’

It took Merula a moment to get what she said. Quinn had already gotten up and grabbed the monkey.

‘It stopped.’ She repeated and turned the monkey around.

‘So this whole thing exists to annoy people and when it can’t, it stops?’

‘I guess so.’

‘I hate that thing and whoever created it.’

‘Me too.’ Quinn tossed it aside and came back to cuddle her. ‘But I love you and I don’t know if I’d have figured it out without you. Thank you.’

‘I’m glad I could help and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you before. Maybe you could’ve slept last night.’

‘It’s okay and it’s over now. I suppose I’ll have to go drop it off at work.’

‘How about I pick up curry from that place you love and we meet at your place?’ It was well beyond dinner time, but since the sky hadn’t darkened yet Merula figured that the place would still be open.

‘Can we meet at yours? I like your place better. It’s more like a home.’

Her words made Merula feel all kinds of soppy and all she could do in response was nod and hug Quinn tighter. At least things were good between them. Even though she still had no idea what she wanted, or how to fix her problems, Merula felt a lot lighter once they let go.

[sarahpetersonruiz]

Sarah's diagnosis | Discord thread with @galexpeterson

tw: discussion of serious illness & hospitals

Sarah: Sarah sighed as she came through the front door, carrying a shopping bag in one hand and the bag of books she had tried hard to resist in the other. She kicked the door shut with her foot, making her way into the kitchen to drop off both bags. “Hey, hot stuff,” she smiled as she spotted Gale in the living room, moving behind the couch to wrap her arms around his neck and place a kiss on his cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

Gale: Gale sat in the corner of their couch, propped up reading a book that Sarah had been reading a few days before. Klaus sat on the floor, playing one of his videogames. He’d not heard the door open and close, too deep into the story that when he heard her voice, he smiled. “Hey you.” He spoke, quickly finishing the page before she got there. He placed it upside down on his lap, hands placed on her arms when she bent down. He smiled at the kiss against his cheek, turning his head to face her, resting his head against her shoulder. “I did. Went for a run, did some errands, fixed the kitchen cabinet and went to see Nicole. Then picked our little rascal up from school.” He told her, sliding his hand to hers. “How was yours?”

Sarah: Sarah smiled as she squeezed Gale’s hand before moving to ruffle Klaus’s hair in the way she knew annoyed him, earning a groan from him as he continued to play his game. She laughed before making her way back into the kitchen to start putting away the food she bought in the store. “It was fine,” she called out as she put her Diet Coke into the refrigerator. “Nothing strange or startling.” She had experienced another dizzy spell during work, but convinced herself it was because she hadn’t yet had lunch. She lifted out a packet of her son’s favourite snack. “I got cookies for- um…” She frowned, looking down at the pack in her hand as she pictured her son’s face in her head, but the name had completely escaped her. “Um…” How could she forget his name? Sure, something as simple as a salt shaker or the name of the book she was reading, but her son’s name?

Gale: "When do you have your administration night?" He asked after she had confirmed nothing much had happened, using a bookmark to indicate where he had ended and closed the book. He asked, since it was the last week of the month. Unless he was mistaken, that's where most companies counted their stock and till, was it not? He got up to help her with the groceries she had done when she began talking about the cookies. When however she froze halfway her sentence, Gale slowed his walk, looking at her with a frown pushing his brows downwards. "Sarah?" He followed her gaze to the packet in her hand then looked behind him at Klaus, and then it dawned on him that she had forgotten. The colour drained from his face as he took the final steps towards the counter, blue eyes fixated on her face. He'd accepted her previous mishaps, had agreed that the salt shaker ordeal was because she was tired, that she called him Dean out of sheer mistake. But he wasn't helping her with this only for them to cover it up again. "Sarah, what's his name." He asked, in barely a whisper so Klaus wouldn't hear.

Sarah: “Thursday night,” she groaned. “I’m just going to load up on Red Bull and candy to get through the night and then sleep for three days straight. That’s healthy, right?” she joked, knowing exactly what Gale would think of that idea. She felt panicked that Gale was in the kitchen with her, feeling somewhat guilty that he was witnessing her forgetting their child’s name. There had been the embarrassing moment when she had called him Dean in a conversation, but had been able to play it off. He was understanding about a lot of things, but this? She looked up at him as he asked her what his name was, her eyes brimming with tears as she desperately tried to think of what it was. It was buried deep at the back of her brain, but it was like a shadow that she couldn’t grasp in her fingers. “I don’t know,” she said thickly, a tear spilling onto her cheek.

Gale: "I can keep you company if you'd like. I have a morning shift, I can ask Nicky to stay here. That way she isn't alone." He tried to keep his opinion about that to himself, having more than one thought about Ricky leaving her by herself again. But that thought soon faded when he watched Sarah, watching the panic on her face. He felt bad for hurting her like this, by forcing her to come clean about the fact she wasn't okay. The panic across her face, joined by the tears brimming until they fell. He felt his entire face twitch when she confessed that she didn't know. He thought he'd been going crazy, that he was being too overprotective by thinking something was wrong where she assured him there wasn't. He looked down to where his hands were leaning on the counter before he turned to Klaus. "Klaus, buddy, how about you go to your room and do your homework, okay?" He told him, which earned him a groan and while Klaus opened his mouth to protest, Gale already beat him to it. "Now, buddy. You can continue after."

Sarah: “You’d really spend a whole night watching me count books and move displays?” she asked, smiling at the idea of spending the night with him there. “It’s a lovely thought, but you’ll be exhausted. “Last time I wasn’t home until 4am.” She looked back down at the ground when he said Klaus’s name, feeling like she could throw up from the guilt of momentarily forgetting. A silence arose in the room as Klaus did what he was told and reluctantly made his way to his bedroom. “Please don’t be mad,” she muttered softly, still avoiding his eye. How could he not be? She had known there was something wrong for a while and had let it fester until it became so much worse.

Gale: "I could spend days. I could also help you, spend the last hours doing something else." He winked, though honestly he would help, a shift until four am counting seemed horrible. But not as horrible as this. His hands were by his sides, not having the energy to lift them to cross his arms or even place them on his hips. He waited for Klaus to leave and hearing his bedroom door close. He wasn't angry, he thought he would be but the only thing he felt was fear and the crippling weight of truth on his shoulders. "How long?" He asked, not yet turning back to face her because he didn't want her to see how he couldn't hide the terror on his face. "How long since this started?"

Sarah: “Officer Peterson, are you suggesting we fornicate in a public space?” she teased with a smirk. She hated when Gale was mad at her. He never yelled or made her feel bad, but she could see the look on his face that told her that she had upset him. That was worse than any yelling. Her stomach dropped at his question, realising he was just going to become more disappointed in her. “The names? Not long. The salt shaker was the first time.” She sighed, realising there was no use pretending anymore. “I’ve, um…I’ve been getting headaches for a while now.” A pause. “For around six months.”

Gale: He didn't comment on her first answer, knowing that this was her stalling. He focused on a family photo, the three of them on Klaus' birthday party before all had gone to shit in their lives. Was this how it was going to be? Whenever they were doing great, life pulled the rug from under their feet. He was just waiting for the shoe to drop when she admitted it lasted for about six months. "Jesus Christ." He sobbed, catching himself by pressing his hand against his mouth. He was grateful his back was turned to her, as he lowered his gaze to the ground before closing his eyes. "Please tell me you're seeing someone. I don't care if you didn't tell me, just.."

Sarah: Despite his back being turned, Sarah could see the effect her words had on him. She wished she could go back in time and force herself to go see a doctor the second she knew things weren’t right. She had so many reasons why she didn’t, but none seemed good enough now she had to explain herself. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly, trying to think of a way to justify her previous decisions. “I just…Things were going so well. The adoption, the engagement, Nicky’s baby…I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t want to believe it was anything serious.” She knew her reasonings were pathetic, and if the tables were turned she would have let him know that. “We still don’t know. It might not be what we think it is.”

Gale: Composing himself as well as he could. He lowered his hand and turned to face her again, shaking his head when she apologised. "Don't, come here." Making his way around the counter, he pulled her in for an embrace, one he much needed for himself. His arms circled around her shoulders, cheek resting on top of her head. He listened to her, and he would have sworn that he understood. That he would have wanted to live in happier times rather than having it overshadow everything that happened. His second proposal seemed stupid now, knowing he should've spent that time paying more attention to her and her health when he had already been doubting. "Maybe.. But we both know you're smart enough to have a good theory." He mumbled, feeling his heart race in his chest against his will, all the ideas of what it could be spreading through his mind and taking a hold of him. His doomsday scenario. He couldn't lose her. "Call one of your sisters if they can look after Klaus tonight." He said, lifting his head and looking down at her offering her the best smile he could muster. "We'll go see a doctor tonight. I'll call Callum, ask him to run tests. It's best to know now." Maybe he was freaking a little, or not thinking clearly, but could she blame him? All it took was one day for it to go wrong.

Sarah: Sarah gladly accepted his embrace, trying her hardest not to cry as she rested her head against his chest, hearing his heart thudding because of her. He was right, she was smart enough to know that whatever was going on was never going to resolve itself on its own. She looked up at him as he spoke again, nodding as she moved away from him. “I’ll call Nel. I don’t think she’s working late in the salon tonight.” As he continued, she paused before shaking her head. “Not Callum. I want this to stay between us as long as it can. The only people who know are you and Drew, and I intend to keep it that way.” She had always disliked people knowing too much about her personal life, and this seemed as personal as it could get.

Gale: He didn’t appreciate the sick joke that was being played on them. If he hadn’t waited that long, or if he had never broken up in the first place, would they have caught it when it started? He always thought by now he knew her like the back of his hand, but he hadn’t caught the sincerity of the issue, hadn’t noticed she’d been struggling with headaches that long. “Okay. Nel is good.” He nodded, honestly every sister would have been okay, he just couldn’t ask his highly pregnant sister to come over on such a short notice. “Andrew knows?” What did it say that her ex found out sooner than him. Had he noticed when he had not? He swallowed down the lump in his throat, deciding to focus on the other gale of her sentence. “He’s the chief of surgery. He has pull to get you to see a doctor. But let’s try the emergency room and see how far we get. But if they want to send us home, I’m calling Callum, okay?”

Sarah: She knew she wasn’t on the best terms with Nel at the current moment, but she hoped that despite their argument she would still show up when she was needed. She grabbed her phone from the counter and sent her a quick text, being as elusive as possible with the reasoning but also highlighting how it was an emergency. She nodded as he focused on Andrew knowing. “He commented on how I looked like shit one day and I told him. He tried to convince me to go see a doctor and I…put it off,” she sighed. “Fine. We’ll try the emergency room first, though.” Her phone buzzed and she immediately grabbed it, letting out a sigh of relief. “Nel’s coming over now.”

Gale: He had to appreciate the man’s loyalty to her, not having uttered a single word his direction about it all. Though somewhere, he was glad she had someone else other than him who knew. If there were things she didn’t feel comfortable telling him, hopefully she would with Andrew. “Emergency room first.” He agreed, watching how she grabbed her phone at the buzz and sighing when she confirmed Nel was coming over. “Okay. I’ll tell Klaus.” Yet he didn’t move, staring at her features until he lifted his hands and cupped her face in between his hands. “I know I wasn’t in your life because of what I did, but I want you to know that you can tell me everything. Your secrets are safe with me, honey. I could never be angry with you, you know that right?” He told her, his brows furrowed and a weak smile on his lips. “I love you too much to ever be angry with you.”

Sarah: She wondered if he was hurt that she told Andrew and not him. It didn’t seem like the time to bring that up, but she hoped he knew that he knew things about her that no one knew - not even Andrew. Her brown eyes met his blue as he cupped her face, wishing she wasn’t the reason for the worry in his eyes. “I know,” she said softly, managing the faintest of smiles before it disappeared again. “I just want to make you happy, and I’m not doing that right now.”

Gale: “I’m happy when I have you.” He confessed, lightly brushing his thumb over her cheek before he pressed his lips against her forehead for a few long seconds and then stepped away from her. “Right. Family emergency, in case nel asks. I’ll let klaus know, set his bed time, all of it.” He spoke, clearing his throat before he turned and walked out of the kitchen. There was nothing to be concerned about, he told himself, nothing until a test result might tell otherwise. the thought alone helped him talk to klaus as if nothing was wrong, giving him the same story they would cook up for nel.

Sarah: — flash forward to hospital — Sarah couldn’t sit still in the waiting room, her leg bouncing erratically as she looked all around her. There were people who looked a lot sicker than she did, and she felt bad that she was going to take time away from then. When she had explained her symptoms to the nurse, she had seemed concerned and had told her to wait to see the on-call doctor. “Maybe we should just go and come back later,” she blurted out, her eyes finally falling back on Gale. “It’s late. By the time we’re out of here it’ll be morning.”

Gale: Gale seemed to mirror Sarah’s movements, his leg bouncing, arms crossed as he watched one of the tvs with information about the doctors, wondering which one they would get. He had expected Sarah to suggest to come back later, but she’d taken longer than he had initially given her credit for. He took a deep breath, untangling his arms and instead held her hand, as if that was an answer on its own. If they were to come another time they’d have to wait too. “I can always call Callum. I saw his car, he is here.” He suggested, knowing they’d be helped a lot faster that way. “Just a little more patience.”

Sarah: Sarah opened her mouth to argue with him when a nurse appeared with a clipboard in hand. “Miss Sarah Ruíz? Doctor Hartmann is ready to see you.” She squeezed Gale’s hand tightly before standing. “You’re coming with me, right?” she asked, never letting go of him. She made her way into the room where a woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties with graying hair sat behind a desk. She gave Sarah a small smile as she gestured for her to sit. “Hello, Miss Ruíz. Is this your partner?” she asked, looking briefly over at Gale. “Just to confirm you don’t mind saying anything confidential in front of both of us.” Sarah shook her head in response, squeezing Gale’s hand tighter. Dr. Hartmann nodded, grabbing a pencil. “Okay, could you describe your symptoms?” Sarah cleared her throat before nodding, avoiding both Gale and the doctor’s eyes. “I, um…Six months ago I started getting headaches, but they’re not like anything I’d ever experienced before. It’s such a severe pain that I lose my vision for a few seconds.” She knew she hadn’t told Gale that part, trying her best not to look to see his reaction. “They started becoming more frequent and the pain became so bad that I was throwing up. Recently, I…I’ve started to forget things. It started off with some mundane household items, but I forgot my son’s name tonight, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think of what it was.” Dr. Hartmann made some notes whilst Sarah spoke, setting down her pencil and looking back up at the pair. “Okay. Thank you, Miss Ruíz. I…Yes. I’m going to make the decision to admit you to the hospital immediately pending further tests. Would that be a problem?”

Gale: “Of course I am.” Gale comforted her, holding onto her hand as they made their way towards the doctors office. He had no idea if he was imagining the fact that either his hand or hers felt sweaty, their grip clammy. Or perhaps it was the both of them. He felt more nervous the moment they stepped inside the office, taking in the woman at her desk. He briefly introduced himself after she asked if he was her partner, remaining silent for the rest of it. Offering insight from his perspective would most likely not be appreciated, as what Sarah had to say was what was most important. And also afterwards it seemed he barely knew half of what was going on. He was stunned by hearing how intense it had been. Losing vision, throwing up. Sure she had mentioned she didn’t feel well in the last few months, or that she had a migraine. But how had he not noticed? He was better at masking his expressions now than when they were at home. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as she spoke, his eyes moving toward the doctor to see her eyes, her body language. The drastic decision to immediately admit her startled him, and he looked at Sarah before turning back to dr Hartmann. Didn’t she want to do a scan first, take a blood sample? Yet he didn’t question it, there was a part of him that was relieved, relieved that it was being taken seriously. Terrified, because it was worse than he had hoped it would be. “How long would she be here? What kind of tests?” He carefully asked, hoping Sarah didn’t mind he did.

Sarah: “The first thing we need to do is a MRI scan. That may seem frightening, but they’re much more accurate for brain imaging than a CT scan. I would then like to go into more detail about your range of symptoms and monitor them closely while you are here. We also need to do some memory and recognition tests. Overall, it is much simpler to admit you as an inpatient to do all of these things.” She paused, as if she was holding herself back from saying something else. “I am not in the habit of diagnosing patients before having data to back up my diagnosis, but Miss Ruíz…Prepare yourself.”

Gale: Gale listened. He had no idea what exactly the difference between an MRI and CT was but that wasn’t important at that time. He tried to remember all that she said, slowly nodding once in every while. The short silence was unbearable, because he knew the doctor was debating saying something, and that was never good. When she finally did however, he felt his heart drop. He had the urge to ask if they had waited too long, but he didn’t want to put Sarah in the position of knowing. He swallowed, unclenching his jaw before he breathed out, shifting in his seat and reaffirming his hand around hers while he looked at her. “Let’s do that then, yeah? Get admitted.” He wasn’t going to mention the doctors warning, nor acknowledge it. He was his mothers son, he was going to have to channel her positivity and believe it was all going to be okay.

Sarah: Sarah simply nodded, fearing that if she opened her mouth to speak she may cry or throw up. Gale was being so supportive when he could have been incredibly angry at her for covering it up for so long, and on some level she wanted him to be angry. She didn’t think she deserved how kind he was being. They were dismissed back into the waiting room to wait for a nurse, and Sarah was still mute. — time skip — It had both felt like a lifetime and mere minutes since she had been sitting in the same waiting room, waiting for Dr. Hartmann to discuss the results of the various different tests they ran. She was exhausted, barely sleeping in the hospital bed. “How is Klaus?” she asked, wanting to discuss some sort of normality while they waited. “Is he okay?”

Gale: Gale hated hospitals. Ever since he had been in one of these very rooms, clinging to life and having his entire life flipped upside down, he wouldn't have come back unless he had to. And here they were, about to have their lives uprooted again. He'd barely said a word, still playing the words in his head of what the doctor had said, waiting for her when they did their tests and once she was back, instantly held onto her hand. He was exhausted, and he was sure she was too. He'd gotten her a diet coke as soon as they had been given the headsup and some of the vending machine, it ws better than nothing at this point. "Nel said he was anxious when he woke up and we weren't there. But she brought him to school and said he was laughing with his friends when she left." He shared, squeezing her hand. Nel had asked what was going on, and he had given her the same answer as before they had left. "I also made sure to call your boss and mine, we're both off for the day."

Sarah: Sarah nodded as he spoke, feeling that familiar guilt rise up again as she thought of Klaus waking up without either of them. The hospital had fit in as many tests as they possibly could in the twenty-four hours they had been in the hospital, and she was sure Callum’s name had been used to push her to the front of all the lists. She rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, grateful that he was there for everything. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to take the day off.” “Sarah Ruíz? Dr. Hartmann is ready for you,” the nurse at the desk said with a small smile as Sarah stood, reaching for Gale’s hand and clasping it in hers as she turned to look at him. “No matter what happens, we can get through it, okay?”

Gale: "I have a lot of overtime I'm able to use, don't you worry about a thing." He assured her, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. He would quit his job if that was what it took. No matter his passions and goals, she would always come first, no matter what. "Nicole sent me a video though, I forgot to tell you, it's the baby kicking." He told her, already reaching for his voice when he heard her name being called out. He took a breathe, suddenly feeling a sense of dread wash over him. He'd been positive ever since they started the testing, he had to be for both their sakes. Yet now he couldn't shake it. He took Sarah's hand, getting up from his seat. He didn't yet make an attempt to walk away, needing this last moment with her. At her words he nodded, his free hand lifting to pluck a piece of fluff from her shoulder. "Together, no matter what." He nodded, before heaving in another breath and following her into that dreaded office.

Sarah: Sarah's eyes momentarily lit up as Gale mentioned the video of Nicky's baby kicking. She wanted to see it so she could experience a brief moment of joy, but it was of course cut short by the nurse calling her name. "Show me later," she sighed. As they entered the room, Dr. Hartmann was sitting at her desk, looking as infallible as before. She peered over her glasses at the two as they entered, gesturing for them to sit down. She opened Sarah's file, briefly scanning over her notes once more before letting out a shallow sigh. "I'm not going to keep you waiting much longer, Miss Ruíz. Unfortunately, our results have confirmed our suspicions." She cleared her throat before turning the file so Sarah and Gale could see. It was a scan of Sarah's brain, which seemed to be mostly dark space besides a white round shape on the left side. Sarah knew exactly what it was as soon as she spotted it and let out something between a gasp and a sob as she pushed the scan away. "You have a benign tumour in your left temporal lobe. This is the part of your brain that is responsible for your verbal responses and your memory related to your speech. This is why you have been having issues remembering certain words and names. The, erm...How did you put it? Deja vu you say you have experienced that led you to vomit were actually what we call a simple partial seizure. It's a seizure one can experience while still being conscious and functioning. Dr. Hartmann paused, giving both Sarah and Gale a moment to process her words before continuing. This may seem like doomsday, but it's actually a better outcome than I had first believed. The placement and size of this tumor can be removed by surgery. It would requite minimal radiation and, if we're lucky, no chemotherapy at all. I apologise for using the word 'lucky', but...We can do something about this."

Gale: And just like that, the world fell to pieces. Gale hardly knew what he was looking at, but the doctors words and the sounds that came from Sarah were enough to make his body rigid and cold, his heart slowing down as if he was in trance. He felt like he was moving in slow motion. Slow blinks, slow breathing. The doctors voice sounded like echos bouncing in between the four walls. It was at the moment she mentioned seizures that he sucked in a breathe as if desperate for air but kept himself collected, barely noticeable for the doctors eyes. A tumour, seizures, surgery, radiation, chemo. He could only focus on the bad words, the bad news. He kept staring at the dossier, looking at that magnificent brain of hers, with that blasted white stain. A smudge. It seemed like nothing on paper, but in reality. “Will she be the same?” He asked, dread soaking in his voice. He looked up to meet the doctors eyes. “She’s wicked smart, doctor. She’s funny and…” he paused, looking at Sarah instead. “Will she be the same after?”

Sarah: Sarah looked over at Gale as he spoke, squeezing his hand. She knew it was irrational and she would never tell him, but she felt like she was letting him down somehow. He didn't deserve to have to go through something like that; not after everything he had been through with the accident. "Unfortunately, no-one can answer that until after the surgery and after Sarah has recovered. There is a likelihood that the seizures may occur for the rest of your life, but we can give you medication to help with that. There is also the possibility that your memory continues to deteriorate. On the other hand, there have been patients that appear to make a full recovery, but it takes a lot of time and rest. I just don't want to fill you with the false sense of hope that as soon as it is removed, things will immediately go back to normal." Dr. Hartmann took back the file, flicking over the page but being a little more secretive about the contents of it. "Mr. Peterson, if you don't mind, there are a few confidential details of the diagnosis I need to discuss with Sarah privately. Would you mind stepping outside?" Sarah squeezed Gale's hand again, unsure if she was going to be able to do it without him. She had barely uttered a word since yesterday, and definitely didn't want to speak now, but she knew from the look on the doctor's face that it wasn't a negotiation. "I'll be okay," she finally said, her voice a mere whisper. "I love you."

Gale: The doctors answer hadn’t been what he had hoped. He looked back at the woman, wishing that she had sugarcoated it, even if just for his sake. At least he would have that. If he had to give himself a silver lining, it was that this wasn’t worst case scenario. That would’ve been her telling them there was nothing they could do. At least there was comfort in that. He was still reeling, knowing that if he had been standing rather than sitting it wouldn’t have been a pretty picture. He was pulled from his thoughts when the doctor asked him to leave. Brows furrowed and his shock made way for anger. He understood privacy and confidentiality but they were to get married. He was about to tell her facts when he felt the squeeze in his hand and he turned his head to face Sarah again, and his brows relaxed. Or perhaps he had misinterpreted. Had Sarah asked for privacy when they were doing tests? The thought made him decide to nod instead. If she had it would hurt, but she could hurt him a lot of times in order to ever get even with him. He nodded, kissing the back of her hand before he slowly stood, letting go of her hand and reluctantly exiting the room.

Sarah: Dr. Hartmann waited until the door had closed behind Gale to begin speaking again. Sarah was in the room for around ten more minutes before she eventually emerged, looking pale and shell-shocked as she made her way back to the waiting room to where Gale was. "She, um...She wants me to stay one more night so I can have the treatments explained to me and to sign a bunch of forms and shit," she said, her voice sounding almost as if she was half-asleep. "I'm getting the surgery soon, Gale. Like, really, really soon." Of course, she knew things would move quickly, but not as quickly as that. And there was the added concern of what Dr. Hartmann had talked to her about. She hadn't decided whether or not she was going to tell Gale, but seeing how devastated he seemed, she couldn't break his heart again if things didn't work out. It probably wouldn't work out. "If you want to go home to be with Klaus, I totally understand."

Gale: Those ten minutes felt like an eternity. He sat in the waiting room, staring at the same bloody screen again he knew like the back of his hand by now. At the sight of dr Hartmann on the screen his stomach turned. He hated her already and he wasn’t sure where that even came from. He hated hospitals. He hated them. Sarah’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he jumped up to his feet immediately, instantly reaching for her hand again. He didn’t ask, simply letting her say what she wanted to say. Last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured. “You have to stay here for that? Can’t you just… go home and .. we’ll come back first thing in the morning.” She needed her sleep, and if she despised this place as much as he did he knew she wasn’t going to get a lot of it tonight. “Okay… what’s soon? This week or?” A month? Months plural? It made no sense he wasn’t allowed to be inside for this, what was so sensitive about this he couldn’t hear. Yet again, he didn’t press, even though it was eating him up on the inside. “No. I’m with you, always. I’ll get my parents to get klaus for the weekend, but…” he hesitated. “Sarah, we should tell people. Family. We can’t keep this to ourselves. Keeping this from them would be bad. It’s big.”

Sarah: She shook her head at his questions, trying to push through the sea of thoughts that roamed at the forefront of her brain. "No, I have to stay. They want me to start radiotherapy tomorrow for a full week to shrink the tumour down as much as they can and then they're doing the surgery next week if all goes well." She wanted to break down and cry, but she feared if she started she'd never stop. Instead, there was almost like a numbness that took over. "I know," she sighed, knowing that they couldn't keep it a secret. "Can we just have one more night where it's just us? We can tell people tomorrow. I just don't want to do the whole sympathy thing right now." She paused, biting her lower lip momentarily. "How the hell are we going to tell Klaus?"

Gale: “It’s all going so fast.. I’m sorry I put you through this.” It was good that they found out, it was bad news, and waiting any longer would’ve made it worse, but he hadn’t expected her to be submitted to tests for a full day and spending two nights in a hospital with all the information being dumped on her. He felt guilty, he hadn’t exactly given her a choice in going. “Tomorrow, this weekend. As soon as your head is in the game for it…. Shit I didn’t-“ he sighed, rubbing his eyes. Dropping puns hadn’t been his intention. “He’s clever like you… I’m sure he will understand when we tell him the truth. We just… will be positive about it, hopeful, hopefully he’ll catch on.” He suggested, brushing her hair from her face and over her shoulders. “I love you. And I’m with you through it all, you know that right?”

Sarah: Sarah furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at Gale’s apology. “What on earth do you need to apologise for? I’m the one who waited too long to see a doctor. If I had went as soon as I knew something was wrong, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” She knew the whole time. The T-word had been swimming around in her head the moment she had stopped to do some research, but she wanted to prevent the inevitable. Of course, that only made things worse. “I can’t tell my sisters. And Klaus. Can you imagine his face? How the hell do I tell them?” she was panicking now, feeling sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes as he brushed her hair out of the way. “What if they have to shave it off?”

Gale: “I should’ve noticed sooner.” He had, but he had believed her excuses. Perhaps it said something that he took her word for it, that he trusted her. But on the other hand, maybe if he had insisted before. He shook his head, looking up at the ceiling, tracing the lights with his eyes until he looked back at her again. “It’s okay, we’ll figure something out.” He honestly had no idea. All day he had the urge to call Nicole, but didn’t. She knew something would be up. She was already in a fragile state, with her pregnancy and Ricky in the halfway house. “I don’t know if we should tell Nicole. Do you want her to know?” He sighed. “We can talk about this later. It can wait.” They didn’t need to stress over it already. “Oh multitude of things. We can both rock a shaved head, or we’ll get you those scarfs, or Nel will get you a wig that looks natural. Don’t worry about that, okay?” He told her, kissing her forehead before pulling her in for a hug, placing his hand gently on the back of her head. Was this how she had felt when he had been hospitalised? Not knowing what was around the corner? He was terrified yet his heart grew two more sizes for her.

Gale: "This isn't on you, Gale," Sarah sighed. "How were you supposed to know when I was downplaying it so much? I didn't want you to worry and it's ended up in a bigger mess." She rested her head on his shoulder and momentarily shut her eyes, both the physical and mental tiredness washing over her. "She has enough to deal with, with Ricky and the baby. I mean, she has to know, but maybe wait a few days. I don't know. This is going to fuck up everything." Her eyes slowly opened again, looking up at him. She wasn't sure why it was the thought of losing her hair that did it - much a minute aspect of the whole situation - but she felt tears prickle at her eyes and before she could stop herself, she was crying, hiding her face in Gale's shoulder. "This isn't fucking fair".

Gale: He refrained from answering, though he had a lot to say. He knew it wasn't on him, but it felt like it. Still felt horrible the doctor had sent him out of the room too, but he wasn't going to tell her that. If anything, he had to collect himself and be there for her. When she wanted people to know, he'd allow himself to confide in his best friend and bawl his eyes out, but not before, not in front of her. And God was that hard to do. "We'll tell her after the baby is born, maybe... I don't know." He sighed, looking down at her just in time to see the tears well. Instinctively, he held his arms tighter around her, lips pressed against the top of her head and he closed her eyes, slightly swaying them from side to side. "It's not.. But you've made it this far, we've made it this far. We will make it through this too."He whispered, fingers running through her hair. They were going to have to be positive about it, actively positive, if not for Sarah's sake, then also for Klaus', find private moments to keep it in between them, like they used to underneath the sheets and just speak their minds with no judgement from the other. That was something to suggest later however. "I believe in you."

Sarah: Sarah's head was filled with so many thoughts, questions and worries that it became a constant stream of white noise. She felt like she was drowning, completely overwhelmed with the implications of everything she'd heard from the doctor that day. "She's going to know something is wrong, and I don't want you to have to lie to her." She was good at that, but she didn't want to make Gale have to pretend to his loved ones as well. She sniffled against him as he held her, wanting desperately to go back to the bliss they had been feeling only mere months ago. "I'm terrified, Gale." The words held so much more meaning than he would yet realise, and she so wished she could be completely honest with him, but she didn't want to see his heart break all over again. She wouldn't be the cause of even more pain.

Gale: “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” He stated, not wanting to worry about that now. There were plenty of things they had to focus about first. Triage was important in situations like these, he’d make sure they would. “I know.. you can lean on me.” He murmured, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. He really did think there were no more surprises and knew what to focus on. They would be okay. They had to be. “Let’s go. The sooner we have this behind us the sooner you can go home.

-- END --

[ohwynne]

Penny for your past // Leviathan & Wynne

PARTIES: Chuck/Leviathan @faustianbroker & Wynne @ohwynne LOCATION: Mephisto's Repository TIMING: Early April CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of animal cruelty, SUMMARY: In search of a rabbit's foot, Wynne ends up in Chuck's store where they encounter not one but two demons. Leviathan is quick to show an interest in their past, after Gab spills the tea on Wynne's unfulfilled destiny.

They weren’t sure why this urge had risen in them, to return to previous ways. It had risen with the settling down, the quietness that came from starting to develop a routine and having their own room rather than a musty, dusky motel one. Wynne had missed a fair amount of rituals and celebrations, and while they didn’t know if there was any point in continuing to make offerings (what with refusing to be one) it still felt strange to separate themself from it entirely. 

That was why they were in need of a rabbit’s foot. Lucky or not, it hardly mattered — luck wasn’t part of the teachings, anyway, and superstition was considered sacrilegious. It was more so about the sacrifice of the creature, the circle of life ended early, and Wynne was selfishly enough unable to undertake a murder themself. (Too reminiscent of fates escaped, and all that.) A rabbit’s foot, though, that was purchasable, especially in this strange town, and it would come close enough. And luckily the internet came with kind enough recommendations.

So Wynne had a mission. They entered Mephisto's Repository with a bit of trepidation, but walked up to the counter instead of letting their already-frazzled mind get distracted by all that’s in stock. Their chin was somewhat high when they looked at the person behind the counter, though, eyes trained. “I’m looking for a rabbit’s foot, and heard you might have one. Can you point me in the right direction?” 

—

The young man sitting by the register, leaning back precariously in his chair with his combat boots propped up on the counter, didn’t move a muscle as the customer stepped into the shop. There were a few other people milling around, poking at this and that and commenting in hushed tones, but he seemed wholly unbothered by the idea that he ought to maintain a professional demeanor. Though to be fair, the aura of the place didn’t seem like one that demanded its employees to button up their shirts and straighten their bowties, so to speak. 

Glancing up from his phone as they spoke, he raised a brow. “Oh, uh… yeah, I think we got those.” Clicking the screen off as he pulled his feet off the counter, he rocked forward to lean against it and point to a far-off corner of the shop. “Back there,” He casually sniffed, giving them a once over and a shrug before settling back in the chair. Something caught his attention though and he cupped a hand to his mouth, giving a sort of half-shout to someone who was coming up behind the customer. “Hey, Mr. Jones, we still got them rabbit feets, yeah?”

The person coming up behind her audibly laughed. “Yes, Orville. Glad I could do your job for you.” The younger man gave a snort and went back to looking at his phone, while Chuck gave the customer a knowing smile. “Had a feeling I’d see you in here some time soon! Come on, I’ll show you where they’re at.” The vague directions Orville had provided would likely lead to a fifteen minute search, with how packed this place was. Walking them over to a section that was dedicated entirely to animal remains, Chuck made a sweeping motion with his arm. “We’ve got a few in stock right now, so you’ll get your pick of color, too.” A beat. “... you’re in need of some luck, then, huh? If you don’t mind my asking.”

—

Wynne had little intention to stay in the store for long. Something about it put them off, but then that was the case with most things these days. It was the feeling of living on borrowed time, that tendency to look over their shoulder expecting something there — an elder, a mentor, a creature their mind was too small to picture, their father or mother or worst of all, their brother. This place was obscure, strange, called itself filled to the brim with cursed things. Wynne couldn’t help but think about how they were considered blessed once, and what a curse that had been.

Still, they have something they want. They look over their shoulder in the direction the employee points them in, giving a small nod. “Thanks.” While Wynne does their best to not look out of their depth or jumpy, there is still an unplanned movement of their shoulders as a voice booms. Another figure appears, considerably larger and more impressive in stature. “I said I’d come.” And while they were not always a person of their word (considering the fact they were at present alive, and all), they had been in this case. 

They’re quick to follow, eyes falling on different bits of animal. A sad display, Wynne thought — whenever they had made an offering of living things, they treated them with respect. An altar. Flowers and fruits and something burning. If they had ever handled it like this – killing not for the sake of the entity or community, but for profit – perhaps the Protherians would have ceased to exist much earlier. They swallowed their thoughts. It wasn’t like they understood this economy enough to comment on it in a smart way. “That’s a fair amount.” Their eyes moved from the different colours of fur, trailing up. “Isn’t everyone, always?” It was a trained response. “But yes, I suppose. The seasons are changing, it always requires a certain …” Shoulders lifted. “I don’t know, something extra.” They tried really hard to tell themself that this would be fine: that this could serve its purpose. If there was any at all. To the rabbit feet. To life, even. “Which one is freshest?”

—

It wasn’t quite the question Chuck expected, brows raising in thought. “Freshest? Well…” All he could really say was which had been acquired most recently, but that wouldn’t exactly say much about the foot’s age, itself. The demon narrowed his eyes at the customer, digesting the rest of what they’d said. Changing seasons. It was nothing, probably, but—no. It was nothing. He let an easy smile stretch over his features once more as he reached into the pile and plucked out a black foot, handing it to them. “This one, I’d say.” The rest of the display, composed mostly of bones and tails and pelts, seemed to bother them a bit, but that was hardly new. For every trapper in this town, there was a pacifist. “Lucky as they come. Might help your spring come in a little easier, eh?” 

Something bumped against his leg and Chuck glanced down. Oh. A curious looking badalisc had wandered out of the back room (which was against the rules) to inspect whoever it was that Leviathan was speaking to, toddling over on all fours and angling his massive head up and slightly to the side to get a good look. Chuck tried to swipe the creature back behind his legs with his foot, but the lesser demon was having none of it. 

“Oi!” it wheezed, clambering up Chuck’s legs to settle in his arms. The owner gave a glance around the shop and was relieved to see that in the time they’d been talking, everyone else had left. That was less to explain, or… deal with. 

“This one smells funny,” the badalisc grumbled, leaning out to get a better whiff of the customer. Chuck’s brow furrowed and he hoisted the creature onto one hip, scolding him. 

“Gab, that is not a nice thing to say to someone.”

“The fuck you care about nice?” the badalisc cackled.

—

For a moment, Wynne considered changing their mind, excusing themself and turning around, heading right out of the store. What use was there, in any of this? There was nothing to keep at bay any more. No one to share these holidays with. Maybe it was all the talk of Easter, the longing for something familiar in this unfamiliar place — but it would be a poor version of a ritual, anyway. And still, they remained, took the black rabbit’s food in their hands, and turned it over. “So none of this is cursed?” Eyes glanced over the inventory, before turning to the other. They opened their mouth to confirm that this was supposed to help make the spring a little smoother, though they were interrupted by a strange sight.

“Oh!” The exclamation was close to a yelp, Wynne clutching the rabbit’s foot as they jumped back a few inches as the creature made its way into the shop owner’s arms. Eyebrows shot up, an expression of surprise and something close to terror washing over their features. From all the strange things they had seen since their running away, this seemed to stir something most. As it reached towards them, they moved back further. It’s nothing, they told themselves, it’s different from the pictures they had back home.

Forcing a breath in and out, they tried very hard not to stare and jump to conclusions. But there was a tenseness spreading from the base of their spine, dread pooling in their stomach. As the demonesque thing grumbled, their eyebrows lowered to a frown. Another shaky breath, “Can you ring me up?” They really wanted to get out of here now. Wynne attempted to focus on the fur under their fingers, but their eyes kept being pulled to that thing. “Without that, maybe?”

—

Orville came scrambling over from the register, hoisting the badalisc out of Chuck’s arms. “Sorry sir, I’ll—sorry, sir,” he wheezed, waddling toward the back room door with the creature in his arms. Chuck shot his customer an apologetic look, but seemed altogether unbothered by the display of the unnatural. So it went, in this shop, and most folks were too afraid to tell anyone else about it, lest they be ridiculed.

“My apologies. Gabagool is something of a menace, sometimes, I assure you he meant you no harm.” The reaction was interesting. Different. Chuck had a feeling that anyone else that had been in the store when this customer walked in would have run off screaming. Curious… curious indeed. 

“Tell you what. For your understanding, I’ll let you have that, free of charge.” He smiled. “And I hope I can be of more help to you someday, should your rabbit foot not quite do the trick.” There was something in his tone that suggested an unspoken offer, but the demon wouldn’t elaborate. Not here, not now. All he would do was pull out his business card and pass it to them. It had his name, Chuck Jones, and the names of his two businesses on the front. On the back, a phone number, superimposed over a faint symbol that looked something like a dressed-up pentagram.

“As the need arises.”

—

They missed the apologetic look, eyes glued to the strange creature. Their mind echoed something distant, that this was demonic, that this town kept proving that there might be answers here but that those answers might be threats. Wynne felt a tingling in their legs, as if they were to give in from under them.

There was a dryness gathering in their mouth, no words leaving it as they were offered the rabbit’s foot for free. It didn’t seem particularly lucky now, but Wynne wasn’t fond of being rude. Their fingers wrapped around the business card, eyes taking in the pentagram. They’d never used such gaudy iconography, back home — but even Wynne knew what pentagrams were.

“Thank you.” Their eyes redirected to Chuck Jones. Wynne swallowed, taken aback by his general attitude: the extended business card, the charity, the hint of helpfulness that went unspoken. The discrepancy between it and the creature. They really did feel as if their legs weighed nothing at all, a tightness forming in their chest. They opened their mouth again, “What was that?” They made a quick correction: “He, I mean.” 

Before Chuck Jones could answer, Gabagool piped up again as it scuttled through the store again, “Better question, what are you?” Gaze rested on the red-eyed demon, Wynne finding themself speechless once more. But Gabagool wasn’t looking at them: rather at the store-owner, “Outran their destiny, this one.”

—

Orville, who was standing back in the shadows looking mortified, straightened up as he was addressed directly once more. 

“Orville,” Chuck said slowly, his gaze fixed on the customer. “Go take your lunch break.” Without question, the employee nodded and hurried from the room, going out the back to leave those three to their business. 

Gabagool huffed, pacing in circles around the stranger. “It reeks of ritual, Leviathan. Ritual unfulfilled.” With a satisfied sigh, the child-sized beast sat at Wynne’s feet, staring quizzically up at them. 

Finally, Chuck reacted. Sucking in a short, sudden breath, he smiled. “Gabagool is a badalisc. A lesser demon, if you will. Harmless for the most part, but very nosy. And very good at digging up people’s secrets.” 

“You know I don’t like it when you call me lesser,” the beast complained flippantly, twisting its stout body around to narrow those little eyes at the shop owner. Chuck shrugged. 

“Well you are, sweetheart, sorry to say.” His attention returned to the customer— “Of course I’m curious to know what Gab is talking about, but first… how about a name for my new special interest?” He was waiting, expectantly, for them to offer up their name. 

—

Panic spread through their body as the creature opened its mouth and Chuck opted to respond in a calm yet determined manner. He suddenly seemed much too tall and imposing to be at all helpful. Wynne felt their body take a step back, eyes casting a glance over their shoulder to the door before meeting the other’s fixed gaze.

Leviathan — there was distant recognition, a term from scripture, from lessons they were hardwired not to forget. Their mouth felt dry as the truth came to them: this was a demon, of sorts. Not the one from the pictures, not one as threatening as gythraul. Still, this thing at their feet was cut from the same cloth from the thing that had demanded their life and not received it.

They took another step back, hit a shelf with their shoulder and halted. “Wynne.” Instinct told them to turn away, but then there was the harmless for the most part demon at their feet and a tightness in their muscles. “I’m Wynne.” 

The rabbit's foot was still in their hand. They weren’t sure if the feeling of being backed into a corner was accurate or fair, but it mattered little. What Wynne did know was that the other’s response was eerily calm and curious, and that wasn’t something they knew how to deal with. So they didn’t: instead they asked, “What do you want?” 

—

Leviathan beamed, but there was an unfriendliness in the arch of its brows. “What is it that the angels always say? Ah, yes… be not afraid.” The demon chuckled, then snapped its fingers at Gabagool. “Come on, back off, you’re frightening the poor thing.” The flash of malice that had lived in its expression for a fleeting moment was almost forgotten in the warm, inviting smile that followed it now. “Want? Oh, nothing that would be an imposition to you, my dear.” 

The badalisc wandered back toward Leviathan, giving itself a good scratch behind the ear before piping up. “It wants your story, marked one,” the ungainly lesser demon explained, to which Leviathan simply nodded.

“He’s right. That’s all. It sounds to me, at least from what Gab is saying, that you were supposed to be… a sacrifice?” It was a rhetorical question, of course that’s what they’d been intended to be. “I’ve never much cared for sacrifice. I always found it so… oh, what’s the word…” 

“Gaudy? Tasteless? Lacking imagination?” Gabagool offered. Leviathan nodded and shook a finger at its small companion.

“Those are the ones. Lacking. In. Imagination.” It leaned a bit closer to Wynne, pleased with itself. “I’ve never been so full of myself to demand human sacrifice, I’ll have you know. Happy as a clam just living among the people and striking a deal here and there. Helping people. And I’d like to help you, if I can. So… tell me your story.”

—

They had seen worse things than this, had they not? Wynne wondered sometimes where their resilience had gone, since they had run away. It only took so little to unsettle them, to make their heart climb in their throat. Back on the commune, they had been more tranquil, even in the face of terrifying things. 

But it was hard to fight, the nervousness and fear that came with being in the presence of one confirmed demon and another mysterious yet lanky character. They let Chuck speak, let it lay out its motivations. They let their mind run with the words they receive, falling into assumptions before they could stop themself from doing so. Wynne saw dots to connect in the most innocuous of things, and this was hardly an innocuous situation.

Was there use in denying the rhetorical question? There was a corner, yes, they were backed into its metaphorical borders. But it seemed that what they were backing away from wasn’t deeply malicious. Their eyes shifted, landed on Chuck. “Are you one too?” 

Wynne breathed in, fingers pressing down on the fur of the rabbit’s foot. Its bones gave way. There were the phalanges, which they’d sown in pillowcases back home. So small you hardly felt them. “I ran. The night before I was supposed to die. They had it all ready, the altar, the –” It was hard to find the right words, to find the start, the context. The courage, perhaps. “I’m not supposed to speak of it.” No, the rules had been clear: only certain Protherian ways were to be shared with outsiders. Definitely not the sacrifice bits. 

“Why should I trust you? If you’re like It, then —” Their head shook. Wynne swallowed thickly. “There’s always tricks and deals. How could you help? What would you want? Just a story?” That couldn’t be.

—

The brown eyes that belonged to the human face it wore, the ones that glowed a sweet honeyed shade in the right light, looked ravenous. For what, one couldn’t be certain. 

Leviathan was not like other greater demons. For one thing, it generally had far more contact with humans than any of its brothers and sisters. Many of them liked to impose themselves on the creatures of this dimension as a god to be worshipped, but that had never been an attractive life to the Leviathan. It entangled itself with them across hundreds of cultures and centuries of time, rather than controlling a pocket of people here or there. Even the name it went by, Leviathan, was given by the humans. Its true name, one that would not be spoken aloud, was an identity that it had almost completely forsaken. And the other demons, well, they looked down on Leviathan for it. All of that was to say that the demon had a bit of a chip on its shoulder. 

“Yes,” it answered simply, “I am. Though… I am not like them. I don’t have the same goals.” It listened while they told their story, nodding in understanding. The secrets were nothing new, anyway. “I see,” was all it said, straightening up. “As for the tricks… don’t insult me. There’s nothing tricky about my deals. It’s all written right there for people to read.” It wasn’t Leviathan’s problem if people chose not to pour over the whole contract like they ought to. And even the ones that did still thought they could handle the cost, which was usually not the case. 

The demon smirked. 

“I’m not asking you to trust me, Wynne. And I don’t know how I can help, not yet. I’d need more information. But that’s up to you to give, so…” It shrugged, silencing Gabagool with a motion of its hand as it noticed the lesser demon about to pipe up. “As for what I want? That changes by the day. I’m not asking you to make any deals with me right now, sweetheart. You’re free to sleep on it.” 

—

There was no beating around any bushes. The demon met their question with a simple, forthright honesty Wynne was wholly unfamiliar with. Should these things not be clouded in more mystery? Hidden away, covered in some level of mythology? But then this demon was nothing like the creature they had spoken of. It looked like a man, albeit tall and imposing, and did not speak in tongues or ways only a select few understood. It ran a store with objectively strange objects but it was still just that. A store. 

There was no demand for blood or offerings, no claws reaching from the darkness like the paintings depicted. There was honesty. And yet Wynne was afraid, as if it was the only emotion they were able to tap into. They stared at it, letting out a shaky breath. “How are you not? What are your goals?” The questions came almost automatically. Wynne had always been curious in their nature, but they had not met many people willing to satiate it.

Then their gaze cast down, fingers pushing the phalange bones aside once more. “I didn’t mean to insult, I’m sorry. That’s not fair of me.” Corwyn Prothero’s deal with a demon some three hundred years ago may have had lasting impacts on Wynne and their commune, but that wasn’t to say all demons demanded to be paid in the blood of future generations.

Their eyes remained wide as they processed what was laid in front of them. They couldn’t recognise it yet, unsure if it was a helping hand or one wanting to be shook for something macabre. There were things they wanted, things they thought to request — but their trepidation remained. If there was one thing they had learned over these past months, it was to not to trust people immediately. “Can we talk about it another day? Somewhere else, maybe — I need to think. Process.” It felt strange, to voice their needs: but it felt distantly mature. If it wasn’t for their nervous glances, that was. And part of them yearned for it, to lay everything out that had occurred and have someone look at it without asking too many questions. But whether it was the person to look for, Wynne was wholly unsure of. “I’ll take you up on that offer, to sleep on it.”

—

Leviathan’s goals were not ones to be shared with strangers. Hell, they weren’t even shared with the one person they involved: so for now, a half-truth would do.

“There is someone that I care for whose life is at risk. I am looking to put a stop to that… uncertainty. Beyond that? I’m just here to have a good time.” With a smirk, the man dragged an index finger over his chest in the shape of an ‘x’. “Cross my heart.” 

The apology was like a balm for its riled ego and it visibly relaxed, though it said nothing else on the matter. A nod was all that was offered before the conversation moved elsewhere. “Of course, Wynne. Take as much time as you need, and really think about what it is that you might want from me, hm?” It grinned. “You know where to find me, and of course, you’ve got my number with you now. Just don’t call Sunday evenings, that’s when I hold my bible study.” A beat. “I’m kidding,” it chuckled.

—

The answer lacked detail, but Wynne was hardly one to press in situations like these. It was enough, to not hear him say that its goal wasn’t to be worshipped or feared, anyway. So they nodded their head, just once. “Alright.”

Their mind was already moving, already passed through the door and ruminating on all the things they could ask for and what they might have to offer in return. It took restraint, not to ask the questions that burst under the surface, but Wynne was certain that they’d shown enough desperation. 

A nervous burst of laughter slipped from their lips at the joke, which was a good one. “Okay. Bible study, got it.” There was another nod of their head, which was more a tuck of their chin. “I guess until the next time.” If there was to be one. They held up the rabbit’s foot before tucking it in their jacket. “And thank you.” With that, they turned and headed out of the store.

[ascendancy-echoes]

Interlude: The Right Thing to Do

The next morning, Ismene was setting plates of bacon and eggs down as she told Russ that after he helped her water the garden, they were going to go back into town.

“Why?”

Ismene sighed. She explained that she wanted to apologize to the other townsfolk for her attitude the day before and she needed to get more groceries if he was going to stay with her. She also added that he’d want a pair of boots before the winter.

“I know I was really dismissive about the boot thing back in the forest,” she said. “But it’s been my experience that almost everyone here who has feet needs boots in the winter.”

Russ glanced down at Ismene’s tail and asked, “What about you?”

“I don’t go out if it snows but otherwise I’m fine,” Ismene replied with a shrug. “I stock up my pantry before that happens.”

After helping Ismene with the morning chores, Russ followed her to town. He didn’t feel nearly as anxious as he did the day before. Ismene led the way to a house on the southern edge of town. It looked like two small cottages stuck together just before the mainstreet. A sign hung in the window of one cottage, advertising leatherworks and shoemaking. Ismene led the way in. Russ followed and saw a blue Imp sitting behind a counter, working on a small boot.

“Hey Ismene, Fechin said you were yelling at everyone in town yesterday,” the blue Imp said from his work bench. “What bit your tail?”

Ismene replied, gesturing to Russ, “Oz was being a shit and spreading rumors about him and I got a little pissed.”

“A little? You put a dent in the wall when you slammed that door open at the general store,” called out another small voice from the back room. A brown Imp came out with a small pile of leather. Setting it on the counter, he continued, “I’ve never seen you that mad before.”

Seeing Russ, the brown Imp said, “Oh! You must be the new kid. Russ, right?”

Russ nodded and mumbled a greeting. Ismene explained the reason for their visit and asked if they had time to help. The two Imps nodded.

“We got some free time,” Brogan replied. “I’ll grab the stuff.”

While Brogan went back to get the things they’d need to measure Russ for some new boots, Ismene approached the counter and looked to Fechin.

“Are you two still chummy with that old human?”

“His name is Melichor and we aren’t ‘chummy’,” Fechin replied. “We just don’t see a point in overcharging him for our wares like the rest of you.”

Ismene frowned. “He’s a human.”

“Look, we all know what happened to your folks and we’re truly sorry, but Melichor’s not the one who hurt you or the others,” Fechin replied. “Why are you even bringing him up?”

“It’s a long shot but can you ask him if he or any humans he knows has heard of or seen a Mystic like Russ.”

Fechin eyed Russ curiously. As if reading his mind, Ismene remarked that so far no one knew where Russ could’ve come from and she had promised Russ that they’d figure it out.

Russ confirmed that he couldn’t remember anything except his name. Not wanting to dwell on the subject, Russ asked about the human Ismene had mentioned.

“I have a question about the human you know… Why does he live near here and not with other humans?” Russ asked.

Brogan shrugged. “He likes his solitude. Nice enough fellow and he doesn’t act like we Mystics are bad.”

“We sell him leather for his tools and he trades us stuff from the Zenan continent,” Fechin added, leading Russ to a stool.

“How much is this going to cost?” asked Ismene as she watched the Imps measure and took down notes for Russ’s boots.

“No charge,” Brogan replied. “We’d be happy to help. One pair of boots won’t break the coffers. It will take a few days though cuz we have other orders.”

As soon as Brogan and Fechin were done taking measurements, Ismene and Russ bid them farewell and departed for town. Russ glanced back at the Imps’ home and then asked Ismene if Noctis Arbitra knew about the old human.

“I’m sure they do, but like those two said, he ain’t a threat,” Ismene replied. “He stays out of Medina and we leave him alone.”

“Are there any other Mystics outside of Medina?” Russ asked, changing the subject.

“After the war, all Mystics were forced to relocate here on the continent of Alastori,” Ismene sighed. “It was the condition of the surrender… to stay out of human lands. Alastori is big enough for all of us and Medina is a fine town but… well, it’s not like you or I can just stroll down the streets of Truce.”

Russ nodded but said, “That still doesn’t really answer my question.”

“If there are, we haven’t had contact in centuries,” Ismene replied. “As much as I wish I had a real answer for you, there is no point in dwelling on things we’ll never find out.”

Russ looked down the road to the rest of Medina. The sun shone down upon the town and the smell of fresh bread drifted towards them and Russ could see the market at the center of town by the plaza was already bustling. He wasn’t sure how long he would stay in Medina, but Russ was starting to feel like maybe it could be home, even for a little bit.

~o~O~o~

A week later, Belinay came by while Ismene was in town on deliveries to give Russ a tea sapling she had acquired so Ismene could make him ‘real tea’, not ‘that medicinal stuff’ she made. Russ tried to invite Belinay in, but Belinay declined, remaining on the front steps. 

“What is your secret, dear?” Belinay asked, sounding like she was asking for a secret recipe. “Some folks in the town are quite surprised Ismene’s kept you around.”

Seeing that Russ was confused by her remark, Belinay informed him that Ismene was usually sarcastic and standoffish towards the rest of the town. Belinay clarified that while Ismene could be civil and calm, she seemed to only care whether or not someone had business with her and only came into town for orders or to get things she needed, otherwise she remained at home or would go off foraging all day. Many in town, with the exception of Oz and his father, had come to accept this attitude and gave Ismene the space she desired.

Belinay sighed, “Don’t get me wrong, I love Ismene but she has the bedside manner of a wet cat at best. The town only tolerates it since she’s the only apothecary and herbalist that Medina has. Without her skills, none of us would know how to create medicines to treat illnesses very well.”

Although Russ didn’t ask why, Belinay suddenly offered her theory as to why Ismene was so acerbic and contrarian.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about her parents,” Belinay remarked. She went on to say that her mother told her once that Ismene’s grandmother was less than happy with the Elder about the failure of the coup and Ismene clearly had picked up that attitude.

Russ didn’t really see this side of Ismene when it was just the two of them. Ismene wasn’t really that sarcastic. Blunt maybe, but she was genuinely caring and accepted him for who he was. This included his ‘irrational hatred’ of oranges, as she teased him when he declared there was no way she could convince him to try a slice of the fruit.

“I mean, she wasn’t the only one who lost someone that day, but everyone else has accepted what happened,” Belinay suddenly added, clacking her beak slightly.

Something about Belinay’s comment irritated Russ. He frowned and wanted to defend Ismene but his words failed him. Instead he sighed, nodded, and thanked Belinay for the tea sapling before the Kotengu departed back for town.

When Ismene returned, Russ showed her the sapling and told her how Belinay had given it to him. Ismene eyed the plant and smirked, telling Russ the thing would be his responsibility as she slithered over to her bookshelf and picked out two books. As she handed Russ the books, both about plant care and tea, she noted he better start studying if he wanted to keep it.

Russ smiled softly before looking pensive. He looked down at the books and told Ismene what Belinay had said after giving him the sapling. Ismene confirmed that she knew of her reputation and generally preferred to be left alone unless someone needed medicine before asking Russ why he brought the topic up.

“I guess… I mean I know the Elder told you to keep me but I was wondering why you let me stay with you?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Ismene snapped, sounding genuinely offended that she’d consider any other option. “It’s not ‘letting you stay’, it’s doing the right thing. Honestly, you should be asking yourself why no one else offered to take you off my hands if I’m such an awful Mystic who wants to be alone.”

Ismene looked like she was about to say something else but instead she scoffed and slithered over to the kitchen where she proceeded to make herself some coffee. After an awkward moment of silence, she spoke up.

“Russ, I don’t have time for bullshit,” she sighed. “I know I’m not the only one who lost family that day but everyone acts like I should move on with my life like I didn’t lose both of my parents. Who says that to a child? Some even think I should be happy they tried to fight for our future.”

“I do my job because I really do like helping others,” she added as she poured her coffee. “I just can’t do small talk and I don’t want platitudes or to be shamed by others for feeling how I do about losing my parents.”

Russ nodded. He told Ismene that he felt the same way. He preferred to be straightforward when it came to conversation and he didn’t enjoy small talk either. He thanked her for giving him somewhere to stay, saying he was glad it was her who found him. Ismene smiled ever so slightly. It was the first time Russ had seen her smile since they met. He hoped, in that moment, that he could make her smile more.

[monorayjak]

A Ruined Place

The counter was covered in dust, a faded yellow barely visible under the thick layers of grime and dirt. A small register sat on the right side, with a small piece of paper stuck out of it’s shut tray. Under the dust I could just make out the word “Receipt,” or at least what looked like it. Light flittered in from the half-shattered windows, covering the shelves closest to me and the counter. Ripped bags littered them all. I moved to look at them, but a voice shot through the gap that had once been the door to the shop.

“Hey Max! Find anything interesting?” James stood at the doorway, crouched down to see through the collapsed entryway. His gray shirt was covered in grease, his black shorts tore in patches, and his hair a brown mess cascading into every direction.

“Eh, not much yet. Looks like another goner here.” The store was shattered, just like the lives of whoever was in it. “I haven’t got to take much of a look around yet, but from what I’ve seen here… well, I don’t think we’ll find any-” Metal scraped behind a wall. My eyes darted to the left, looking for a source.

“Well, sounds like something might be in there. Let’s take a closer look.” James crawled through the door, making his way under the sign that had collapsed to barricade the building off from the outside. 

We moved carefully. The last time we heard a sound like that, we had made the mistake of being rash. That had thankfully just cost us some rations for the day, the wolves could have easily made it cost us our lives instead. We followed the aisles the store once had stocked, moving carefully and using our hands to find the walls and shelves. The light reached a decent ways down this route, but what was left of the ceiling stopped it from going the whole way down.

“Any idea what it could be?” The question had left my lips before I had the chance to stop myself.

“Uh,” James spoke calmly and quietly, “it could just be the old building giving way a bit more… could be another pack of wolves knowing our luck. Maybe something we can catch? A bit of extra food never hurt.”

“What? No hope for survivors? No guesses of the thing to save us all?” James chuckled. 

“No, sadly, I don’t think we’ll find anything like that here. I think you called it pretty much spot on back front, I think this place is probably one that’s been abandoned since at least…” James’ voice trailed off.

“Since It happened.” The words left my mouth to finish. “Yeah… maybe even longer if I had to guess, look.” I pointed to the remains of a calendar on the wall opposite us. It had the bottom piece almost entirely ripped off. From the remaining portions I could just make out one word in big red letters: July.

James’ stared. “July? That’s, what? Five? Six months before it all started?” 

“Yeah. Might have just gone out of business… I heard the last few months were rough for most people.” We both stopped a moment, lost in thought over our faint memories of the days before it all happened, we were both just toddlers when it all started… “It all seems so unreal.”

James blinked. “What? The ‘end of the world’ doesn’t feel real to you?” He laughed a bit at that. 

“That wasn’t really what I me-” Metal scraped hard again. My heart started pumping. Flashes of wolf fangs leaped to my mind. “You know what… let’s talk about this later.” James shook his head in silent agreement. We both started heading towards the door to what we assumed had to be the storage room at one point. The door between the areas had fallen onto the floor, leaving a wide gap to look through. We moved closer, holding tight to the wall as we did. I reached the doorframe, and moved my head to look inside. Darkness surrounded my sight. A few faint streaks of light from the cracked ceiling, shining onto random portions of the walls and floor. One beam shining towards the backmost wall shined just a bit different than the others.

“Do you see what I see?” James asked quickly and quietly from above, his head sitting nearly on top of my own.

“Metal.” My eyes caught the light reflecting off the back wall. Something was certainly metallic back there. “Do… do we move towards it?”

James answered my subdued question by turning the corner himself and walking into the darkness towards the metal. “James! What are you doing?” I was as quiet as I could be, panicked with every fiber of my being yelling to shout at him to stop.

James reached the wall, and grabbed the bar of metal. “What? Nothing is here! We probably just heard this piece falling off the wall.” He made a fair point. My anxiety calmed just a bit.

“Any ideas what it is?” I began moving out from the doorway, slowly making my way to the back wall.

“Not sure honestly. Doesn’t look like it’s much of anything.” The metallic rod was set into segments, each one smaller than the last. One side ended with a piece about the size of my finger, and the other ended about as large as my palm. Looked like glass was on the smaller end, and a cap seemed to be in place on the larger. James flipped it over in his hands, looking for any indication of what it could be.

“Hm. No idea… maybe we should take it back to camp? One of them might know what it is.” James continued shifting it in his hands.

“Yeah… probably. Let’s get out of here. I feel like I’m being watched in this place.” We moved away from the wall, holding the in his hand, James stopped at the door and looked back. “Oh yeah, Max.” I looked up curiously. “What were you going to say before?”

I stood there for a second, lost in my thoughts. “Oh, yeah! Well, I was going to say that… well, it wasn’t that this all didn’t feel real. I guess… I guess it kind of felt like the unreal part was what came before? Like… those days are so foggy, and even though everyone tells stories of them and talks about the way it all looked and just how… I guess it just kind of feels more like a fiction than the real past. Know what I mean?”

James stared and blinked for a moment. He turned and started moving towards the exit of the store again. Once we hit the counter, he spoke up; “Yeah, I know what you mean. Honestly, if these ruins and everything weren’t here, and we didn’t have everyone else to tell us what this all was before… I get it. I mean… humans alone seem like a myth in all honesty.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, we sure they weren’t all just pulling our tails when they told us about them? ‘Two arms, two legs, two eyes, two ears;’ all a bit repetitive isn’t it?”

James laughed at that one as he moved to step out of the building. “Yeah, you got me there. I mean, how did they even stand on two legs? How did they not fall over all the time?”

“Exactly!” I had shouted it before even thinking. I moved to rebalance myself on my hind legs as I started standing back up from crouching under the sign. “Like, I have freaking four! And I can barely stand sometimes!” James’ tail whipped as he laughed at that one.

“Well, I think that one may be just you.” We both chuckled. “We should try and get back to camp before night.”

“Yeah… race?” I stared at him with a smirk.

“You’re on!” James shouted as he took off, his front and hind legs moving in harmony.

I started following him as quick as I could. “Cheater! We had no mark!” The sun shined in my eyes, and I continued to chase him. As I looked around at the remains of that last world, I finally knew what I had been trying to say in the shop. That old world wasn’t ours; we had no say in it. This one however, this land tore apart? This is ours.

[darknoonbitch]

Steddie

Steve really hadn't thought much of Eddie when they first met. He was loud, obnoxious, and strange. The only thing he knew was the kids liked him, so he couldn't be that bad. Saving the world together completely changed his view on the rocker. He had sacrificed himself to demobats and vecna to get them out of there. He was nearly eaten alive before Steve and Nancy got to the gate and pulled him through.

Steve fell onto the ground of Eddie's trailer, and soon felt Eddie's weight falling on him. Robin was trying to help hold some of the now unconscious Eddie, but awkwardly dropped him.

"Oh Steve, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Robin, not now." Nancy interrupted as she climbed her way through. Steve had rolled himself and his friend out of the way before Robin caught Nancy neatly in her arms. Before Robin could swoon, Nancy had hopped up and was pulling Eddie off of Steve.

"Shit, he's bleeding a lot. We've got to go to the hospital." Steve gritted his teeth as he lugged him to the car. By the time they got to the ER, Steve had also passed out in the back from blood loss.

Steve felt lucky, he had a few transfusions and a lot of antibiotics and was out within a few days. Nancy and Robin hadn't even had to spend the night, though they did stay with Steve and Eddie, taking turns switching between the boys rooms and getting each other food.

It took weeks for Eddie to get cleared from the hospital. Steve had made sure the first thing he did when he was released was check in on Wayne. He'd stop by and cook him dinner or bring him takeout to make sure he was eating. He'd go to Eddie's hospital bed, usually when he was sleeping, and made sure to fill his water and give him an extra blanket.

When Eddie came home, he stayed away. He wasn't sure where they stood, and he was too nervous to ask. They hadn't hung out before all this, so why would they now?

He managed to avoid seeing Eddie or Wayne for about 2 weeks. Robin kept telling him to just call, or stop by, it wouldn't be weird. He couldn't shake the feeling that Eddie would look at him like he was crazy for being at his house.

Robin was once again trying to convince Steve to at least call, when Steve looked up to the entry bell at Family Video. In walked the curly haired, tattooed boy he'd been trying to avoid. Steve quickly turned around, looking for a place to hide.

"Wait, no, Steve, come on" Robin rushed out in a whisper, but Steve cut her off with a shush as he ran into the aisles to stock movies.

"Hey Robin, just you today?" He could hear Eddie talking at the front counter. Steve hurried into the romance section, hoping Robin wouldn't bail him out, praying this section wouldn't be what Eddie would watch. He waited a moment, and when he didn't hear any more talking he assumed Eddie had left.

"Robin, I really thought you-" Steve started but was cut off by Robin's guilty face.

"Hey, Stevie." He heard a deep voice behind him. He froze, not sure what to even say to the man behind him.

"Just wanted to tell ya, well, can I talk to you?" Eddie continued. Steve turned his head and nodded before following Eddie out the back door to the alley behind the store. Eddie immediately lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before just looking at Steve.

"My uncle said you were stopping by, while I was in the hospital." Eddie finally spoke, looking at his boots.

"Yeah, uh, I just wanted to make sure he knew you were gonna be ok. I know you said he works nights and figured he wouldn't have time to check on you." Steve tried to explain away his interest in Eddie's life, and begged he wasn't blushing.

"I appreciate it, man, really." Eddie clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Nancy told me you stopped by the hospital a few times at first, too."

Steve felt his face get hot. There was no way he wasn't blushing now.

"Why don't you come back over sometime? My uncle says you make a mean lasagna." Eddie bent his head to make sure Steve was looking him in the eye. Steve chuckled and nodded. Eddie murmered something like "great" before waving bye and walking away, cigarette dangling from his lips.

[writingsofmax]

Disarm pt. 14

Words: 5.1K

Summary: Edward and Y/N hang out at home and try to talk about Edward's plan and everything that has happened.

Tags: angst, guilt, hurt/comfort, chronically ill reader, anti-social Edward, obsessive thinking, CARETAKING

warnings: depictions of illness, panic attack, canon-typical description of orphanage stuff

Chapter 14- The World Is A Vampire Sent To Drain

Y/N woke up, cold sunlight streaming in through her bedroom’s frosted windows. She stretched, and pulled the covers tightly around her, reluctantly opening her eyes. She quickly realized that she was alone in the bed. 

There was a vintage card sitting on her nightstand, alongside her pills with a glass of water. He did leave, she realized. Her heart sank as she reached for the card. It depicted a crying kitten in an old fashioned nurse uniform. You being sick is a cryin’ shame! Get well soon. I love you. She blinked and flipped it over. On the back was Edward’s handwriting with some doodles of eyes and hearts on it. I stepped out to get food for us and some other things as well. I will be back soon. I love you. Y/N let out a relieved sigh and set the card back down on the table. She could hear rustling coming from the kitchen. She took her meds on the side table and then kicked her blanket off, putting her feet on the floor. She noticed that her room wasn’t as cold as it had been before. “Eddie?” she called, cautiously. “In here!” She heard him answer from somewhere in the apartment. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders before getting up. They had a lot they needed to talk about today and she was finally feeling good enough to discuss it. She walked down the hallway, apprehensiveness growing with every step. She paused and hovered in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Edward stocked the fridge, pulling food and drinks from grocery bags on the floor. He was obscured by the fridge door, and didn’t notice her watching.

She looked around the kitchen and found that it was practically sparkling from how clean it was. Looking past the kitchen into the living room she felt her face grow warm when her eyes landed on a vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table.

The corners of her lips moved into a half-smile when she noticed he had brought over two space heaters as well. One of them was already plugged in, in the living room, working hard to warm the air in her frigid apartment.  “Good morning,” she greeted Edward, shyly. Edward leaned back and peeked at Y/N from behind the fridge door. “O-oh, good morning!” He quickly finished putting things away and shut the fridge door, standing up and leaning against the appliance with his arms crossed. “I, um––I went out this morning,” he stated. “I couldn’t really sleep, so I decided to pick up some breakfast food for us from the diner, and some easy things that I can make for you since you didn’t have food here and—Oh yeah, I got space heaters too down at the hardware store since your apartment is so cold, and that can’t be good for you—but don’t worry, because I can pay for the extra electric fee… Although, that shouldn’t even be a thing because your apartment should have been warm and liveable anyway, but who can trust landlords to actually do their jobs? It's alright though, it's not a big deal and anway are you warm enough?” he rambled, looking down at the space between them. “Oh—Yes, I am. I noticed that it was warmer right away, thank you,” Y/N answered. “But are you... okay, going outside? Won’t you get…” she trailed off, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. Edward regarded her for a moment, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “It’s fine,” he answered firmly, turning to the bags of takeout sitting on the counter. “No one knows who I am, or that I’m…” he ended his statement with a vague hand gesture. Y/N rubbed her arm, furrowing her brows, anxiety starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. “And is that going to change? Or what's your plan here?” Y/N asked, worriedly. Edward didn’t answer at first, instead fixating on putting all of the food he had brought from the diner out on the living room coffee table. He moved very quickly, Y/N noticed. “Eddie?” Y/N asked again, quietly. He seemed upset by her line of questioning and she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. Edward sat on the couch in the living room and patted the seat next to him. Y/N hesitantly followed and sat. His eyes seemed to have an air of sadness to them as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll answer any questions you have, but I think we should eat first before discussing...” He paused for a moment, frowning. “... Everything.” At the mention of eating, Y/N looked at the table. There were a variety of containers carefully placed around the flowers he had gotten. There was french toast, bacon, eggs, pancakes, hash browns, and even more containers unopened. It seemed like he had practically bought everything off the breakfast menu, she noted. 

It did smell really good and, for the first time in days, she actually had an appetite. “Okay, we’ll eat first,” Y/N agreed. Normally when the two of them would eat together, their dining would be punctuated by conversation. Edward would ask her questions or riddles and she would try to answer them. Other times the two of them would talk about books, politics, Gotham, art, or music. The two of them could talk and discuss their ideas for hours. Today though, they just sat in heavy silence as they ate. Y/N felt sad. They were together again, yet everything felt so different. They both seemed uncomfortable. She wasn’t making a move to talk, but Eddie sure wasn’t either. He would barely even look at her. She looked at the flowers on the table and her heart clenched. Had Eddie gotten them for her, as part of his apology perhaps? And all of this food?

It seemed that he really was trying, but she was unsure. Maybe he had meant what he said the other night, she thought, the pain in her chest returning. He did seem standoffish this morning, like he was keeping his distance from her. It was hard to believe that the person that had bludgeoned the Mayor to death had also gone and picked out a bouquet of flowers just for her. Well, not just bludgeoned the Mayor to death— he had brutally killed two others.

Y/N set her fork down as her food threatened to come back up. She had watched Eddie’s “trials” on TV more than once because the news during the past week had just been 24-hour coverage of the Riddler. He had put a bomb collar on Coulson, and she could hardly even think about what he did to the Commissioner––with the rats. And what did all of this say about her? That she was in this apartment, sharing food with him, acting like everything was normal?  She should have noticed that something was wrong when they first started seeing each other, but she hadn’t. Looking back on his episodes now, she felt like she should have seen the signs. I guess that’s why they say that hindsight is 20/20. She should have tried to get him help. Should I still try to get him help? Is that what I should be doing? She cast a sidelong glance at Eddie, he seemed perfectly normal sitting beside her, eating his food. Somehow I don’t think that therapy would help someone that’s already killed a person by having rats chew through their face.

Y/N could feel her heart rate rising and her mouth felt dry. Her apartment seemed too small for her thoughts and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She just needed a second, just a walk to clear her head. She stood up quickly, earning a concerned look from Edward. 

“I, um—I’m gonna go for a walk real quick,” she stated while walking over to her coat and keys. 

Edward looked bewildered. “Let me go with you.” 

“No, it’s fine really, I just need some fresh air, I’ll be right back,” Y/N responded, pulling on her coat quickly, her panic threatening to bubble over. 

Edward stood up and walked over to her. “I really don’t think you should. You’re still recovering and it’s really cold outside,” he objected. “At least let me go with you,” he pleaded, his eyebrows knitted in concern. 

Y/N just shook her head no, and slipped past him opening the door. With one last apologetic look over her shoulder she mumbled, “I promise I’ll be right back.” She shut the door behind her, leaving Edward behind.

——?——

Edward stood by himself in Y/N’s apartment, at a loss for what to do. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to follow her, but he didn’t. She had very clearly wanted to get away from him. 

Edward sat back down on the couch and let out a loud sigh, sinking forward into his hands. Is she... Afraid of me? Memories of her terrified face on Halloween night flashed through his mind. 

This was such a mess. He wished that he had just been honest with her to begin with instead of all of this. He didn’t know what to do with all of the guilt inside of him. He found that it was hard to even look her in the eye, let alone speak with her after what he had done. Every time he looked at her, he was reminded of everything.

He felt so very undeserving of her. He didn’t deserve to look at her, he didn’t deserve to speak to her and he especially did not deserve to touch her. Not after… certain comments. 

And now she was gone, walking around Gotham in the wet and cold. That usually would be hard on her anyway—let alone now while she was still recovering. Today was the first time he had seen her even eat anything and she had still been warm to the touch last night. 

She shouldn’t be walking around out there at all, especially not in this weather.  He felt torn, he wanted to follow her to make sure she was alright but didn’t want to scare her. He couldn’t bring himself to overstep any more than he already had. 

He got up and started clearing away all of the diner food from the table. Something to focus on, he supposed. It had crossed his mind that she was going to the police, but if that was the case he felt resigned to it. It would be penance for how he had treated her. 

A part of him almost felt relieved that she had left him here, that she was finally reacting in some way. He wished that she would be angry with him or even yell at him. I deserve it, he thought, carrying the takeout boxes to the trash. 

He was more worried, than relieved though. If she’s not back in the next 30 minutes I’ll go find her. As much as he didn’t want to overstep he had to make sure she was at least okay. He continued clearing away the dishes as guilt ate away at his insides. 

He wasn’t looking forward to this talk. 

Despite it all he still wanted to go forward with his plan— not the seawall, but Falcone. He needed to kill Falcone. He was the head of corruption in Gotham and had to be taken out. That was the point of everything, but he didn’t know how she would take that. Would she hate him? Would she be scared? He didn’t know how he could make her understand. Before he had met Y/N, every night of his was a thousand nights in the orphanage. The only thing that had relieved the pain he had felt was working on these plans. I can’t just let it go. It’s not that simple. I have to make him pay. 

Taking a deep breath, he sat back down on the couch and looked at the flowers on the table. He had specifically picked those out for her, hoping she would like them. At the Diner, he had gotten everything on the menu, unsure of what she would want the most that morning. He wanted so badly to make everything okay with her, to make her understand, but wasn’t sure how. He could hardly stand to be in the same room with her—the guilt was so strong.

He checked the clock on the oven in the kitchen. It had only been 8 minutes. How could 8 minutes feel so impossibly long? His mind was already a mess with worry and hasn’t even been that long since she had left. He flicked on the television. He needed something to distract him or else he would go after Y/N. And it helped that he was more than a little curious about what the news was saying about him. The news was showing footage from Coulson’s trial and Vicki Vale was reporting. “—reign of terror will continue? There have been no more updates on the Riddler for several days, yet tension continues to run high in Gotham’s political circles and in the GCPD.” Edward grinned. Even though he hadn’t been active in awhile, they were still terrified. Good. He giggled, leaning forward to watch the broadcast more closely. Let them feel an OUNCE of what I felt every day for YEARS. The screen cut to footage of a crowd of his followers and he felt his heart swell with pride. There were tons of people wearing his mask, holding up signs with his symbols on it. It was almost like being loved, he thought. Although, after meeting Y/N, nothing could truly compare to the real thing. He really appreciated his followers though, their strong allegiance to him made him feel powerful. Strength in numbers. 

Now they were interviewing some low-level cop about what he thought of the Riddler. Edward rolled his eyes. I guess they have to keep the Gotham populace watching somehow. He read the time on the bottom of the screen––only a few more minutes had passed since he had last checked. He turned off the TV. Y/N still wasn’t back. She shouldn’t be out there. His anxieties were interrupted by the sound of the door unlatching. He was flooded with relief as Y/N walked through the door. Her face was red and she was breathing pretty heavily. She hunched over and put her hands on her knees as she looked up at Edward apologetically. “Yeah, you were right,” she laughed nervously. “That was stupid. I only… made it about… a block away before… I could barely breathe.” Her words came out labored as she tried to catch her breath. “And it was very cold, just like you sa–” her words were cut short by a coughing fit.  I knew it. I knew she shouldn’t have gone out there. Edward rushed over and helped her pull off her wet coat and boots. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her close. She was shaking. Silently, he guided her over to the couch.

“Do you need your inhaler?” he asked, trying not to show that he was upset. She shook her head yes, as she sat down on the couch, still trying to catch her breath.  Edward pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, and was dismayed to find that she was starting to burn up again. He adjusted the blanket over her on the couch and went to grab her inhaler. On his way back he pulled another blanket from her bed and brought it out to the living room to wrap her in as well.

Y/N had turned on the TV and was watching the news broadcast about him silently. This made Edward feel even more nervous and agitated. He wanted to ask her to turn it off, but he didn’t.  What did she even think of all of this? He approached the couch quietly, and laid the other blanket on top of her, handing her the inhaler. He had no idea what to say about what she was watching. He didn’t know if he even wanted to broach the subject, he was leaning towards no.

“I’m going to make you some tea,” Edward stated, instead.

He went to leave but felt a grip on his sleeve, he turned to Y/N holding onto his arm from the couch.

“Stay,” she asked, pulling on his arm. “I’m cold.” She shifted on the couch, making room. “Lay with me…” she added, almost hesitantly.

Edward felt his stomach flutter, and gave a small smile. “Okay,” he responded as he climbed onto the couch with her. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping the blankets tightly around her. She was still shivering, but it had lessened. It felt so nice to hold her in his arms again. He turned his attention back to the TV, they were going over the clues and riddles he had left around town, still trying to guess his next move. Gotham is filled with idiots. I’ve given them more than enough time.

Y/N shifted in his arms, and he felt the excitement in his body turn to anxiety. He still had no idea what she thought about any of this really. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he blurted out. Maybe not the most tactful way to ask that question, but he was desperate to know. “No...” Y/N responded after what seemed like ages to Edward, but was probably only a few seconds. “I left because I just needed space to think about everything and I know you wouldn’t hurt me…” she continued. “Just them, right? The people we’ve always talked about?” Edward relaxed into the couch in relief. “Yes,” he reassured her. It seemed like she understood his reasons for doing what he was doing, and that made him happy. But her statement about him not hurting her made him wince. “I know that I did hurt you though, the other night,” Edward spoke softly, and pressed a kiss to her head. “I am truly sorry about that,” he continued, hoping she would know how much he meant it. “I never will again.” Y/N took one of his hands and squeezed it, and Edward squeezed back, feeling so grateful that she would even touch him. “I know, Eddie. You did scare me, but I forgive you.” Edward felt a lump in his throat and tears threatened to fall from his eyes at that statement, but he willed himself not to cry in relief. 

“Everything I said the other day was true,” he insisted. “I really do regret everything, and I didn’t mean any of the things I said—I love you so much.” He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t care. “I love you so much and I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I swear!”  

“Eddie,” Y/N spoke softly, and kissed the back of his hand. “I know... I really do forgive you.” Y/N used her free hand to motion to the TV. “Can you please tell me about this, though?” she asked. “I mean… How long have you planned this? Are you going to get caught? Is your plan over, or is there still more? Do you… Do you like killing people?” All of the questions spilled out of her in a rush and Edward could tell that she seemed somewhat overwhelmed by it all. Edward blinked at the last question, unsure of what to say. This plan was such a deep part of him that it felt almost impossible to explain. He sighed, unsure of how to start.

“I don’t know if I can make you understand, but I am going to try,” he started, holding Y/N’s hand for reassurance. “I grew up in hell. I know we’ve talked about the orphanage before, but I’ve never told you fully how bad it was. It changed me.” In his arms, Y/N nodded her understanding, and Edward continued. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been stuck there,” he stated. “Technically, I left when I was 18 but it never felt that way. I’ve never been truly free of it.” “I’m stuck there,” he repeated, squeezing her tightly. “For me…” he paused, searching for the right words before continuing again. “For me, it’s like time is frozen and I’m always there,” his voice came out strained.

“The pain that was inflicted upon me—the rage and hopelessness are always there. It has never once gone away.” Edward felt his body shaking, and his heart was thumping loudly in his chest. It was so hard to talk about this part of himself. He had never let anyone else in before. Y/N rubbed his arm reassuringly and he held her close to him, feeling safe enough to continue. “The worst thing is that I thought it was my fault,” he seethed. “All of us kids at the orphanage were told that we deserved to be treated that way, that if we behaved then we would be treated more kindly. But we never were,” Edward spat, rage sparking in his core. 

“We were fed empty promises to keep us in line. It wasn’t until I started my job as a forensics accountant that I found out that it wasn’t my fault. That it wasn’t our fault,” he explained. “There are other people to blame!” 

He gestured to the TV. “People that knew we needed that money and those resources and took it anyway. People that already had everything they could ever need and decided that they wanted more.”

Y/N twisted in his arms to face him for a moment. She gently ran a hand through his hair and traced her fingers over his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Eddie, that they did that to you,” she whispered, laying her head back down on his chest. Edward rubbed small circles on her back, really more for his comfort than hers.

“Every day when I look into a mirror I see pain...” he whispered. “And when I go to sleep, I’m back at that orphanage. I can hear their screams and it never ends, Y/N.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad for you, Eddie… I’m sorry I didn’t notice before, and that you’ve been in so much pain,” Y/N sniffed, and moved to wipe something from her face but Edward couldn’t see. “You didn’t deserve any of this. No one does. But especially not you––you’re so good.” 

Edward had never heard anyone talk to him like that in his entire life. He had never heard anyone say that he was good— that it was alright for him to exist. That it was okay. 

“Y/N?” he asked, dipping his hand under chin, lifting her face to his. “Do you really think I’m good?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, Eddie!” Y/N insisted. “You’re so smart, you’re like the smartest person I know! And you’re so thoughtful and kind to me, you’ve helped me so much, and you’re trying to help others—-you’re so good,” she whispered, looking up at him adoringly.  

Edward cupped her face in both hands, looking at her adoringly. He leaned in and kissed her for the first time in days.

It felt so right. Having her in his arms, snuggled close to him was perfect. It was where she was meant to be— with him. His perfect angel. 

Y/N relaxed into the kiss, her arms wrapping around him effortlessly. He kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love for her into it. He had missed her so much. Missed this. He trailed his fingers over her body while he kissed her, unable to stop touching her. 

He was so glad she was okay, that she was with him. He was so glad that she had forgiven him. If they were together then everything would be alright. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her more and more, getting lost in the feeling. 

Y/N pulled away, her face flushed. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t feel so good...” Oh yeah, Edward remembered. She has a fever. 

“N-no, that’s alright, Y/N. I’m sorry,” he giggled nervously. “I got carried away. I just missed you so much,” he admitted. “Are you okay though?” he asked, wondering if she was in pain at all. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just need to rest. I don’t have much energy right now,” she responded softly, laying her head back down on his chest. 

Edward fell silent for a long time, listening to her breathing. He debated whether or not to come clean and tell her that he was going to continue his plan, but decided that he needed to. It was all going to come out in the end anyway and he needed to be truthful. 

“About the plan Y/N…” Edward started carefully. Y/N shifted, he had gotten her attention. 

“I want to continue it,” he confessed. He felt Y/N tense in his arms. He had already been nervous and the feeling was growing, but he did his best to ignore it. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but she had to know the truth. There couldn’t be any more lies between them. 

“I can’t accept that the people that did this to me, that did this to all of us get to just go on with their lives,” he explained, narrowing his eyes at the television. 

“I can’t accept that,” he stated resolutely. 

“Do you understand, Y/N? I can’t just let this go,” he admitted, his calm demeanor breaking. “They have to suffer for what they did. Hundreds of children died because of their actions. Hundreds more ended up like me, haunted by it all. It was torture, growing up there, Y/N.” She was looking up at him now, watching him carefully as he spoke. 

“And they did it all for what? For money? To buy a second house? For stupid, selfish reasons. They’re parasites! And I guess to answer your other question: Yes. Yes it feels good when I kill them. It feels good when I see the fear in their eyes. Because THEY DESERVE IT.” His voice was loud now, adrenaline coursing through him as he explained. 

“They don’t deserve to be here, they deserve to die for what they did. I’m exposing them all, I’m changing everything. I won’t let them do this again to anyone while I’m alive, I’m going to—“ 

“Eddie,” Y/N’s voice cut him off, breaking through the dark fog surrounding his thoughts.  

He looked down at her, reorienting himself to the present. “Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean—“ 

“Okay,” she said, reaching up and caressing his cheek with her thumb. 

Edward looked down at her questioningly. He tilted his head in confusion. 

“Let’s go after them,” she said, looking into Edward’s eyes intensely. “They’re scum.” When Edward was a young teen, he had a job as a delivery boy. When he would go home at night, he would pass dozens of houses all lit up from the inside, every room warm and aglow. He would imagine happy families that might have lived in them, with their nice normal lives as he made his way back to the worst place on earth. 

It had made him feel frozen and alone.

But now, he knew how it felt from the other side. It was like every room in his soul finally had some light in it. He felt safe and comfortable and warm. He felt loved. He now had everything he had ever needed. He wasn’t standing out in the cold anymore. “I love you,” he said reverently, sitting up to give Y/N his full attention. “I love you too, Eddie,” she said, grasping both of his hands. “It's… It's definitely a lot to take in. Your plan and everything, but––they did that to kids. These people were okay with hurting actual children. And Gotham obviously isn’t doing well under their control.” She looked at the TV and continued, “And honestly, we both know that they’re actually part of the problem themselves. A lot of them are directly involved in the crime that plagues this city.” She looked back to Edward and squeezed his hands, “I’ll support you, I just...” she trailed off, looking down at the space between them. “What is it, angel?” Edward asked, leaning forward. “Tell me.” “I just don’t want you to get caught,” she admitted, her lower lip trembling. Edward noticed that she was squeezing his hands really tightly. “I’m scared that it might happen and then…” she stopped, and looked away, her shoulders shaking. Edward pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her protectively. “And then you’ll go away forever,” she cried into his chest. Edward rubbed her back soothingly. “No,” he said. “I won’t get caught. I promise.” He pulled back to look into her eyes, his hands on her shoulders. “I haven’t been working for several days and they still haven’t figured out any of my clues. They’re idiots, angel. I would never allow myself to be caught.” Y/N sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Do you trust me?” Edward asked, searching her face for understanding. “Mmhmm.” Y/N nodded, still looking anxious.

“Darling, I would never allow myself to be taken away from you. Okay? Never.” He reached out and wiped her tears away, “So no more crying okay?”

He gave her a smile and Y/N smiled weakly back, nodding her head in agreement.

“We’ve had more than enough of that in the past couple days,” Edward added wryly, adjusting the blankets on top of her while getting off the couch himself.

“I’m going to make you that tea now, okay? You should rest.” He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and handed it to her, “And watch something else for a while, okay?” he asked, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Something more relaxing.”

Y/N giggled. “Okay, Eddie, I guess I won’t watch your grand accomplishments on an endless loop if that’s really what you want.”

Edward felt his face grow hot and he quickly turned to go to the kitchen, “T-that’s not… Just— You can’t—I don’t know, watch something else!” he stammered out.

He heard Y/N laugh from the other room and he rolled his eyes, going to the cupboard to prepare her tea. 

Next

[double-hoe-seven]

Positive Positive

Summary: A dozen positives confirm the news, now you just have to tell your boyfriend the big news. But how? Couple: Jan Maas x Reader Word Count: 2,050 Warnings: Pregnancy, positive pregnancy test, general early pregnancy angst Fandom: Ted Lasso Rating: Fluff/Angst-ish

"Hey, I'm back with a few more tests," Colin called out as he walked into your apartment with a bag from the corner store around the way. "Thank you," you said quickly as you took the bag and rushed back to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. "You know if you keep this up, I might have to buy stock in some of these companies, earn some extra money," he joked, chuckling to himself. "Colin this isn't funny! I need one of these to be negative!" You exclaimed with a frustrated huff. "Why though? What's so bad about it? I mean, you've got your shit together and Jan has, um, he's in the top five of Richmond players that have or are getting their shit together," he tried to sound reassuring but you both knew he was out of his element with this.

You remained silent for several long minutes before answering him "I don't want this to be the reason something happens to Richmond. I don't want it to be my fault that the team loses or that Jan's focus isn't on the game. I don't want him to think I'm trying to trap him in this relationship, and I don't want to cause tension between us or him and the team and I don't want him to think he has to pick one or the other. I don't want Jan to end up resenting me or this baby later on, I don't want him to give up football or Richmond or anything." Once your sad, little rant was over, all that could be heard in the silence was a few small sniffles.

"Can I come in?" He asked softly, giving it a minute before opening the door. Colin sat on the floor beside you and handed you a tissue "Jan's great with kids, y'know, they like that they can climb him like a tree, and he likes that they think the same as him." A small, hiccupy laugh escaped you as you wiped your eyes "Colin come on." "I'm pretty sure I've heard him say on at least one occasion that he wants kids, I remember because I said 'I hope they look more like their mom than you' and he scoffed at me," he continued, another quiet laugh sounding. "Colin-" you started, only for him to cut you off. "Jan really loves you, and I know that, for some weird reason, you love him. I don't know what you'll do but I know you'll do it together and I know it'll be what's best. But you gotta accept the news and tell him." "I know Colin, I just don't know when or even how to tell him," you said as you balled up the tissue and tossed it, leaning your head on your friend's shoulder for comfort. "Well, you could share the news the way he normally does and just blurt it out," he joked. "How can one person be so good yet so bad at comforting someone?" You teased lightly. "Hey, I'm amazing at comforting!" He objected. "Sure, lad," was your sarcastic reply.

After another minute he hopped up and helped you up as well "let's go grab a bite before I have to head back to Nelson Road." "You're buying," you joked. "OR, you buy my lunch and my silence," he countered with a cheery grin as you stepped into the living room. "I'd have to kill you if you told him," you said calmly as you grabbed your jacket. " There she is! There's my best friend!" He exclaimed with overdramatic joy and a grin. You went back to your flat after lunch, politely declining Colin's offer of a ride back, and began trying to figure out the best way to tell Jan the news.

Over a week had passed and you still didn't have the slightest idea how to tell him, you sat next to Keeley as you watched them play Everton, biting your lip as your gaze shifted from the field to the clock. All Zoreaux had to do was block this and Richmond would win without going into overtime. The stadium erupted in cheers when he did just that, stopping the ball in the nick of time. Keeley's excited cheering blended in with the rest of the crowd, which soon turned into the Richmond chant. You felt proud watching the team celebrate on the field, everyone hugging and jumping all over each other. Soon you were following Keeley back into the locker room where the celebration had already begun.

Loud cheers and indistinguishable voices spoke over one another with excitement buzzing in the air. Almost as soon as you both entered the room, Keeley was swept up by Roy in a rare show of excitement and affection. Due to his height, you could see Jan making his way through the crowd of teammates to you and before you could even process it, he was pulling you into a kiss. There was a bright, almost goofy grin when his lips left yours and he handed you a beer, draping his arm around your shoulders happily. You almost dropped the bottle of alcohol when he placed it in your hand as your brain suddenly and briefly short-circuited.

All of the talking and cheering sounded like a dull buzzing in your ears and ever when you tried to focus on what anyone was saying, you couldn't. Your mind was simply too full of thoughts on how best to tell Jan to focus on what was happening directly around you. When you noticed Jan looking at you questioningly, you once again tried to tune in to what was happening "what was that, love?" "I asked if you were okay. You are not being yourself," Jan said with a slight, curious frown forming on his face. "Yeah, I'm alright, Jan," you promised with a quick smile. "Are you sure?" He double-checked, turning you some to look at you. You nodded and started to say you were fine before the unfortunately familiar feeling of your stomach tightening up stopped you. "I'll be right back, Jan," you said quickly, handing your untouched beer back to him and turning to leave.

You tried to leave the crowded locker room as quickly but casually as possible for fear of turning this into a huge spectacle. On your way to the bathroom, you heard Jan's footsteps a few feet behind you. You barely got the door closed behind you before you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, immediately expelling the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl. Your diaphragm only tightened more with each bout that came out of you until not even the bile was left. A few rough coughs clawed their way out of your throat before you rested your head on your arm, eyes closing for just a few moments to avoid the fluorescent's glaring brightness.

There were a few somewhat nice moments of peace before you felt someone kneel beside you and carefully tie your hair back out of your face. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? You should have stayed home, Schat," he said softly as he rubbed your back soothingly, offering you a bottle of water. "I'm not sick, Jan," you mumbled with a frown as you took a sip of the water. You forced yourself to say the next two words as quietly as possible "I'm pregnant." When he didn't immediately say anything, you chanced to look up at him to see if you could tell what he was thinking. "We're... pregnant?" He finally mumbled after almost an eternity. "I'm sorry, Jan, I've known for a couple of weeks but I didn't know how to tell you because I didn't know if you'd be happy or not since we never talked about it," you rambled softly while messing with the water bottle's label to avoid eye contact as well as hide your watery eyes. "Well I'm surprised but I am not mad at you, or at all," he carefully pulled you into his lap, holding you comfortingly. "You aren't?" You asked with a faint sniffle.

"Of course not. Besides, I like surprises a lot and I love you a lot, so in a way this surprise from you is fantastic," his explanation of his thought process out loud admittedly made you laugh quietly. "But what about Richmond? I don't want you to have to quit or spend less time practicing or just hanging out with everyone, I don't want you to feel forced to do one thing or another and I don't want to distract you from football, I know how important it is to you. This is your dream, Jan and I don't want to mess it up for you," you ranted nervously, feeling your eyes beginning to water more at the thought of potentially ruining this chance for Jan.

Jan cupped your cheeks and planted a soft kiss on your forehead and nose, tilting your head up so you were looking into his gentle blue eyes "schat, schat, no, you haven't ruined anything for me. I am excited for this, especially with you! You are my treasure and I love you." "But-" you started, only for him to interrupt you "no buts. It will be hard at first but as long as it is with you, I could not be happier." A small smile made its way onto your face and you buried your face in his chest, a small and shaky but relieved sigh escaping you "I love you so much, Jan." "I love you too, Schat. But I have one question," he hummed softly while his hand still rubbed your back soothingly. "What is it?" You asked after taking another drink of water.

"How long as Colin known?" He deadpanned. "I'm sorry?" You questioned. "Well, given that the two of you are much like siblings, I assume he already knows. When did he find out?" He asked, just as deadpan as before. "Almost a week," you answered shyly, looking down to hide your blushing face. "Good for him for not blabbing then, I would not have thought he could make it this long," Jan joked, laughing along with you. "When will we tell the team? Our families?" He questioned more to himself than to you. "The general rule is you wait until after the first trimester before sharing the news," you answered. "Where are you now?" He asked happily. His enthusiasm and joy made you laugh quietly "I don't know, Jan, I'll call a doctor in the morning and get an appointment soon."

A little over a month later, you both gathered the entire Richmond family in the locker room. You squeezed his hand nervously as you let him share the news. Part of you expected him to give some long speech and eloquently share the news, but instead, he just beamed a bright smile at his teammates and spit it out "we are pregnant." Damn the blunt Dutchman. Keeley immediately ran up and engulfed you in a tight hug "oh my god! This is fantastic! You're going to look so beautiful with a bump, you've got to let me set up shoots and everything for you both! Have you already planned a baby shower? Can I plan it? Oh pretty please, babe!" "Keeley you're gonna fuckin squish her," Roy called out, only to be met with her sticking her tongue out at him. Leslie offered you a nice smile "if it's a boy, we have more than enough clothes and necessities we'd be happy to gift you if you'd like." You smiled at him "thank you, Leslie, that's sweet."

"Did you know about this?" You heard Moe ask Colin, giving his partner a quizzical look. "I did," Colin answered proudly with a grin. "And you didn't tell me?" Moe feigned being hurt. "I am an excellent secret keeper, for all you know, I could be in charge of top-secret secrets right now," he defended. "You couldn't, babe. I love you, but you couldn't." Moe said with a grin. You watched Colin pout a bit until Moe gave him a quick kiss and grinned "just promise you'll be good godfathers, yeah?" They both nodded, Moe piping up "I promise I won't let him put the baby in the Lambo." “Thank you.” “Gee, thanks babe, that’s so nice,” Colin quipped sarcastically.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker @tsundere-cherry-girl​

[bringmebackdude]

Sticky Scarf

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x fem!reader Word count: 1,410 Concept: Izzy's attention is finally all on you after you start to avoid him, now he has to pay the price. (blurb I guess) Mondays at the store were normally slow, if one didn't count the music junkies who waited impatiently for the new arrival of records that would be stocked every Sunday night. There was nothing like the feeling of being surrounded by music and people that loved music and (Y/N) wouldn't wish any different. The variety of genres was unthinkable, and the business owner allowed her to listen to some of the records as long as she didn't scrape them. She was a very fortunate girl. However, not every fortunate girl gets lucky days. The young woman heard the local bell ring as someone entered the business, her eyes rolling blank as soon as she saw him. Tall pale young man, his usual black straight hair made a mess, a cigarette on the corner of his lip, the scarf around his neck, and his white v neck shirt with those tight black jeans. Fuck he was hot.

"Well, good day, ma'am" the individual walked over to her and bent over the counter, smiling widely at her.

Sighing audibly, she looked at him "Izzy."

"I was wondering if you got anything new from this cool band, it's called The Rolling Stones" he looked around, acting as if was nothing out of the habit."Y'know, I went to the record store a few blocks away and they have the same old shit. You're my only hope."

"I'm sure you can find your way to the rock section," trying not to look at him, she kept her sight set on the records she had on her arms, pretending to check the names. Leaving the desk to go walk around the aisles.

The sound of his boots following her just a couple steps behind, but this didn't get in the way of her to stop and organize the records that weren't in the right place, "I would like some assistance. What if I can't decide which album to get?" She chuckled, hastening her step to see if he would keep up. Which he did. "There are plenty of people and other employees here that can help you." "I'm afraid I won't feel comfortable with them," he smirked, leaning against the table next to her. "Besides, they probably don't have a good music taste as you." A small curve was peeking at the corner of her lips. The fucker was a good sweet talker. He was charming and smart, obviously hinting her about the days they would sit in the living room of the apartment and listen to Sticky Fingers while they drank and smoke. It would've worked a couple of weeks before, even then she would've begged him for just a piece of the attention he was giving her now. However, the woman had finally acknowledged her worth and was no longer after the guitarist's crumbs. "Maybe they don't, but those are the only people who will help you." Trying to go anyplace away from the guy, she found the grunge section, distracting herself while she dived through the music. "Didn't take you as an Alice In Chains kinda girl," the rockstar once again appeared behind her. "I could see it, with all the rudeness going on." "You didn't take me for anything, and I can see that." she bitterly reminded him, rolling her eyes as she was giving up. There was no escaping him. Izzy kept coming to the record store every since (Y/N) had not returned her calls. Although the guys had pretty bluntly told him the reason for her attitude, the guitarist refused to believe he was in the wrong, that until her presence was nowhere to be found. He called her every morning and left a couple of messages. He sent Duff and Slash to talk to her, but the woman didn't seem to budge. The girls would eventually come back to him, in fact, they wouldn't go away any matter what he'd do. First, he was looking for a Led Zeppelin record, then he was thinking about getting a new record player, sometimes he would just hang around and stalk her from afar. This chick definitely had to be out of her mind to walk away. So, he stopped and waited for her to crawl back to him, if only that had happened. Instead, now here he was, every free day he would get he would come to the store just to get her to talk, "I bet Duff and Slash don't get this kind of treatment." The young woman stopped, turning around just to watch him with a hesitating look, "Probably," took a few steps to end the torture, "because they didn't sleep with a blonde bitch while we were dating." "You dated them? That's a new one" Izzy chuckled with his hands in his pockets, trying to lighten the mood. The only thing he got, was a glare from her. "Have I told you how good you look on those tights?" "Here we are, rock section. Good luck." "They miss you," if there was something he wasn't used to it was opening up about his feelings. Everyone knew him as a very private person, mostly never talked, but with (Y/N) he had a cheerful personality. "They know where to reach me," making her way to the counter once more, she was halted by his voice. "I." She looked at him directly in the eyes for the first time in what felt like forever, not sure he meant what she was imagining. "I miss you," "You're here all the time, how can you miss me?" "I'm not here all the time," he laughed nervously. Had he been so obvious? And then it hit her. Izzy wasn't used to doing all this sneaking and begging, he was genuinely unaware of how obvious he had been. While she had thought that the guitarist was just being an arrogant asshole trying to get into her panties again, the guy was trying. For her. Consequently, she felt her heartthrob, maybe he was invested in her but was too much of an idiot. "Izzy, you're tall as hell and try to hide between the cassette shelves," she giggled, raising an eyebrow. His cheeks blushed while he looked away to hide

it. "Fuck (y/n), what do you want me to say?" a shy exasperated Izzy rubbed his neck. The woman shook her head, so fucking stubborn. "You don't have to say anything, Izzy. It's fine."Hopefully, for the last time, she turned and started to walk away from him. ..."I'm sorry! She stopped in her tracks. "I fucked up. I know" he said in a higher voice, loud enough for a couple of people around to look at him "I shouldn't have taken what we had for granted. I fucked up and now I want you back." Her eyes finally met his's after a long minute staring at the floor, standing in awe. "It's not the same if you're not there. Steven sings in a high-pitched voice while the music is playing and it annoys the shit out of me. I miss helping you with those lame word puzzles. I miss smelling like that suffocating perfume you use after we-" his speech got interrupted by the delicate hands trying to cover his mouth. "Okay, okay, I get it," she nervously smiled looking around, her cheeks turning red absolutely comprehending what he was going to say. "Let's not forget people can hear you, and I work here." She pulled him into a corner next to some comic book shelves, pleading for some privacy, this was the most sentimental thing Izzy had done, if not the only one. "So?" "I'll give you another chance..." a smile started to peek between his lips, "but under one condition." "Anything," he agreed beforehand, regretting it in his head. After all, he knew how unhinged she could get. "You give me the scarf," with a wicked smirk, making a gesture with her head to refer to the accessory he was currently wearing. "N-no, what? No." "Fine, no deal then. You can leave" (Y/N) shrugged.

“What’s your deal with my scarf?” the guy asked, somehow hopeful she would give up the idea of having it. Every since they started going out, (Y/N) wanted to use it, but he refused with the excuse it was a stinky and sticky stained cloth.

“I just a sticky scarf I like, c’mon.” He sighed audibly in defeat, taking off the piece of soft fabric and handing it to her. She looked at him gaping; this was purely for her satisfaction. The scarf was a statement piece of Izzy's wardrobe. This had to be the most veracious proof of commitment from his side. It wasn’t the plan to keep it herself, seemly a very important item to him that now he had hardly but sincerely handed to her. "Good...cause we'll celebrate with it tonight" throwing it around his neck, she pulled him in a reconciliation kiss.

[binniedeactivated]

whorehouse. || 💦

➥ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➥ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬! 𝐚𝐮, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

➥ 𝐖/𝐂 |  4k

➥ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

➥ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱! , 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲.

multi-fandom ask requested by @light164star​ hope you enjoy this my love!

in any normal university a fraternity represents ambition, passion, and integrity amongst brotherhood. but things were different in your university.

the Sigma Chi (ΣΧ)’s were different. they stayed in this big gorgeous frat house across campus, they threw the best parties and had the best of everything. they had the best selection of everything on campus, even down to the best dining hall. they were very selective to who they admitted. well, judging by the guys you saw leave that building it seemed as if they only accepted the best of the best. the best looking guys, best athletes, the academic powerhouses, the all rounders. every guy on campus wished they were one of them and every girl wished they could be with one of them. but the Sigma Chi’s never dated anyone. that was their number one rule.

and lastly, the sigma chi was rich. not because it was full of a bunch of guys who were spoiled rotten by their parents. not because the university provided them with full ride scholarships. but because the sigma chi house wasn’t what everyone thought it was. of  course it was a house of brotherhood, but they had subscribers all across campus. including you. and the university officials had yet to know that. not that anyone would snitch anyway, they practically had everyone wrapped around their fingers. they even managed to wane off some of the security guards and professors from scoping out their territory, giving them hush money for their loyalty.

i know what you’re thinking. no -- the sigma chi’s aren’t a mafia. despite their ways they’re actually far from a mafia. they were a fraternity. they were a business. and one thing for certain, two things for sure, don’t you ever meddle in the business of the sigma chi’s. no one has ever came back from that little mistake. as far as you were concerned the victims were basically wiped off the face of the earth, complete lost of contact, even their social media accounts deleted and deactivated. no one knew what the sigma chi’s did to them but no one wanted to find out either.

anyway, you held your head low while walking towards the steps of the house. not everyone on campus knew about their little secret but that still didn’t keep you from being embarrassed about yours. you were a happy subscriber and you weren’t going to deny that. sometimes you wondered how your application even got accepted. but it did. you went into the little convenience store they held in the building, waiting for kim seungmin/kang taehyun/ ju haknyeon, either one of them were required to check you in. they worked at the house convenience store but little did anyone know the trio were the brains behind the whorehouse. they didn’t handle much subscribers themselves, but faithfully took care of admissions and payments. oh, and also check in’s. no one could get service or even have access to the whorehouse without going through them first.

the motion detector chimed indicating that they had a customer. you bit your lips looking around a bit, hoping no one walked in right after you. hoping they would think you’re just there to purchase snacks or something. with his sleeves rolled up from handling the store’s stock--coming from the back was kim seungmin. he approaches the back of the counter and does a little head tilt, indicating that you needed to show your identification. you reached your fingers into your wallet and plucked up your student identification card, sliding it on the counter. he reaches for it and opens an app on his smartphone, making sure you were a paying subscriber. lord knows they had enough people behind on payments yet still trying to receive service. even though you knew you were up to date on your payments you still gulped. seungmin never really showed much of any facial expression which scared you. just a sullen, hard expression that made everyone around him think he hated them. 

“you’re all set. sign this slip”.

he grabbed the small notepad full of paper slips he’d printed and specially designed himself, writing the date and his signature signifying that he approved your service. it was your job to sign the bottom line though confirming your consent to anything included in your service. you swiftly grabbed a pen and scribbled your signature.

“room 502. make sure you give them that or else you’ll have to leave”.

you nod and place the slip in your pocket, taking the elevator to the floor. you admit you were nervous as hell, this is how you were each visit. when you’re a subscriber you don’t know what type of service you can get. you’re just assigned to a random room and you’re promised a good orgasm-- several even--- by the time you leave. the way university was stressing you out these days that’s all you needed. your feet finally approach the door and you knock hesitantly. the door opens a bit, just enough to show his face and they grey and black silk robe he was wearing. it was choi yeonjun. fuck. you were scheduled with choi yeonjun today. there was no doubt in your mind that you’ll be fucking ruined.

“slip?”.

you fished it out of your pocket and showed him. he took it and nodded before crumbling it and tossing it in the nearby trash can. he opened the door further, you could see the dark room only illuminated by the deep red lights that lined the perimeter of the room. your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach at the sight of handcuffs, a pack of gummy worms and a vibrator sitting on the edge of the bed.

“come in”.

you nervously slipped through the crack of the door while he shuts it behind you. the room smelled like cherries, it always did for some reason. you stood there and swallowed. you could hear yeonjun faintly chuckling behind you, his hand brushing along your waist.

“you scared baby?”.

“y-yes”. you stammer. he kisses your cheek.

“you should be. take those panties off and get on all fours for me”.

“okay”. you stuttered once more doing as you were told. you came here enough to know that clothes always went on the clothing rack beside the door. fully naked you hesitantly crawl on the bed and remain on all fours just as instructed. you could hear the clashing metal of the handcuffs behind you as yeonjun undoes them and hooks them around both of your wrists and around the headboard. the cold metal ring clung painfully tight around your wrists and you gasp a little at how rough he was.  your back was now arched in the perfect bow and anything he wanted to do he could do it, your body was at his full disposal. you could feel his hand slide down your midsection and your breathing hitched. he removes it and lowers himself to the level of your face just to glare into your eyes. you stared into the abyss of his eyes in fear. he takes two fingers and rub them together, smearing the wetness he collected from you before slipping them in his mouth. he then slides it out.

“you’re not wet enough”.

and on that note he shifts to another side of the room and you heard the familiar sound of goo melt into the palm of his hand. you wince at how cold it was when he coated you with it, getting a good rub on your clit before slipping his fingers inside of you just to coat you that way. a subtle moan left your lips when he did so, unbeknownst to you that yeonjun had other plans when it came to your needy noises.

“none of that today,”. he says in response before picking up a pack of long heavy gummy worms. “that’s what these are for”. he ripped the pack open and grabbed a handful just to go over and shove between your lips. “I don’t want to hear any sounds from you today, you understand?”. you nod with the gummy treats in between your teeth. they were so thick you didn’t know how anyone could ever chew through them.

the buzzing noise of the vibrator rang behind you and your feet immediately grew cold. you couldn’t back out now. you paid for this. this is what you subscribed for. you had to take it.

yeonjun clutches your thighs and slides himself beneath you, face to face with your pussy that was practically begging for him at this point. you felt the smooth, thick grey vibrator slip past your slippery folds pushed deep inside you. in an instant you no longer knew how you were going to keep your legs in place this whole time. you started breathing hard gnawing on the gummies as hard as you possibly could. “shaking already baby? you’re going to have a hard time today”.

he steadily holds the toy, sinking it between your folds and pulling it back out slowly relishing the way your wetness coated it. moans awaited in your throat yet you forced them back down. yeonjun loved the way your pussy looked from this angle but most importantly he loved the way your clit looked. plump and glistening with lube. he softly hums and slides his tongue against it. you gasp but this time refusing to exhale.

“mmm”. he hums again and gives it another cat lick before pushing his face closer and coddling it between his lips. you decided to breathe, as shaky as it sounded at least you weren’t making any noises. but fuck you wanted to. the way he was twisting and moving the toy inside you, the way his wet tongue felt curling against your clit, you wanted to collapse. and he knew it.

he groans after pulling away from your folds with a thin spit string to follow but he couldn’t keep himself from going in for more. he ate you like a hungry tiger, each taste of you is like heaven in the coil of his tongue.  that’s what killed you the most. that’s what made your legs tremor the most. yeonjun didn’t eat pussy as if he wanted to eat pussy. he ate pussy as if he needed to eat it. and that made all the difference.

every lick sent electricity straight to his groin. the fact that you were shaking above him unable to do anything but breathe heavy and take whatever he was giving you turned him on. he thought your little lips were so soft, pretty and scrumptious. he slid his tongue around every crease and fold refusing to neglect a sector. he always had an unquenchable desire to please. your insides burned with agony. he told you that you weren’t allowed to make noise yet he ate you like this? you couldn’t take it. your breathing was already heavy and your legs were already on the verge of collapsing so if he didn’t stop within the next 5 seconds you’d be a moaning mess through the gummies in your mouth.

he fucks you with the toy a bit faster,  twisting it inside you while he flat tongued your clit prior to sucking it gently; hallowing his cheeks in the process. your eyes close and the jolts of pleasure made your tummy cave in. your heart rate soars and now your wrists were writhing desperately inside the cuffs. it felt so fucking good. god, it felt so good. your torso was on fire. his fingers dug into your innermost thigh while his tongue further explored you. he licks a particular spot that you weren’t quite fond of anyone licking, sending a bone shuddering moan through the air.

“ ffuckk! please!”.

yeonjun halts his movements at the sound of it. you mentally cursed at yourself. how could you be so stupid?

“what was that?”.

you swallowed. you agreed to keep silent. that was a bad choice. he slipped himself from underneath you and approached your face, grabbing your jaw roughly forcing his attention on him.  “answer me when I’m speaking to you”.

lord knows you wanted to. but he looked so incredibly scary like this your jaw trembled at the thought of even replying. he lets go of you forcing your head to drop back down in between your shoulders. “you don’t want to fucking listen right?”. you heard a barely audible chuckle but you knew he wasn’t chuckling because anything was humorous. “I got something for you”.

the sound of that made your heart drop. you didn’t know what the hell that meant. your mind couldn’t even grasp what it could possibly mean. all you knew was that you were handcuffed to this bed in this dark red room, your body in the position of complete freewill. after a couple of minutes more of drowning in the fear of your own thoughts the door behind you open and close. you heard not one set-- but other sets footsteps creak the floor. your eyes grew as wide as moons. little did you know though, this was all apart of their plan. yeonjun knew you wouldn’t be able to take what he was doing to you.

“since you don’t know how to shut up, I brought some friends who won’t mind doing it for you”.

squatting to your eye level was lee juyeon, another one of sigma chi’s most honorable members. he does this sly smirk before rubbing your cheek with his hand. “how you doing precious?”. your heart began to pound dangerously fast. sliding his hand through your hair was hwang hyunjin, on the other side of your face wearing the same smirk as juyeon. “damn you’ve got a pretty one jun”. he comments. if you weren’t bound to the headboard you’d run out of sheer nervousness. but you couldn’t.

juyeon grabbed your jaw and glares into your eyes steadily, almost as if he were searching for something. with him doing this you hadn’t even noticed that yeonjun and hyunjin disappeared behind you. “you have some pretty lips. you know that? show me how well you can suck my dick“.

he fiddles with the waistband of his briefs, giving you a gorgeous view of his chiseled body and you wanted to melt right then and there. however someone was groping your thighs underneath you and you realized yeonjun was back in the same position as before. and hyunjin was above him, his hands groping your ass and kneading it. he spills some lube into the palm of his hand and shoves two slendery, slippery fingers inside your ass without warning. you choked on your own spit and wince at the pain. he rubbed his clothed dick against you, biting his lips.

“have you ever done anal before baby?”.

you shudder. “nno i haven’t”.

he hums before scissoring his fingers inside you a bit more, stretching you out so his dick could fit perfectly. you’ll admit, you weren’t too keen on anal before hyunjin stuffed his dick inside you and filled you to the brim. yeonjun attaches his lips to your clit again, and juyeon rubs his dick against your lips forcing you to take him in whole. more than anything you didn’t know you’d be experiencing this. being ruined by three men instead of one.

you hummed against the shaft of juyeon’s dick at the feeling of yeonjun’s tongue licking your soft folds through and through, all the while hyunjin’s giving you soft thrusts from behind. the delicious mix of pleasure made you delirious. your tummy caved in and your thighs were trembling once again. and oh yeah, yeonjun got his wishes of you staying quiet. juyeon was filling your mouth so much a sound could barely be audible. juyeon slips his hands in your hair, jerking your head back just so he could see your mouth filled his precum. he grins.

“a subscriber of the whorehouse gets used like a whore. you like this shit don’t you?”.

hyunjin grips your waist harder and chuckles. “she can’t talk with her mouth full. she’s being a lady”.

juyeon smirks and glances down at you trying to suck him as far as you could possibly reach. “is that true? you’re trying to be polite?”.

yeonjun smirks and licks another stripe up your wet swollen clit before chiming in. “if so, shes at the wrong place. polite prissy princesses don’t get fucked and sucked this good”.

hyunjin slams a hand down on your ass, making it jiggle underneath his palm. “they sure don’t”. you groan against juyeon’s length feeling like you could pass out any second. he thrusted himself between your lips steadily loving the sloppy, messy sounds your mouth was making in the process.

“look at you...you suck dick and take it good. who taught you this?”. juyeon growls.

you softly whine, crying in response. numerous moans left your throat but it was a mystery on whether or not they’d actually be heard. it didn’t even matter though because all three of them was groaning loud enough to drown out the sound of yours. you felt like you were going to lose your damn mind being used like this. the pleasure of it all made your toes curl and body shiver. yeonjun’s wet lips were coated in nothing but you precum at this point and hyunjin speeds up the movements of his waist, snapping into you like he’d never get a chance to do it again. well, considering the system of the whorehouse he just might not. and he was making it evident.

“fuck, your pretty ass”. hyunjin groans while throwing his head back and biting his lips, slamming you back against his waist every chance he got. your ass was pretty like this, stemming down from your cinched waist it was plump and perfect from this angle. hyunjin thought he could watch it bounce against him all day if he could. you unintentionally pushed back on him leaving a hum of approval sputtering from him lips. “oh shit”. he grumbled.

“she’s fucking you while riding yeonjun’s face. shit, I like her”. juyeon licks his lips while holding your hair in up a makeshift ponytail. tears jerk from your eyes as he shoves his dick down your throat again before pulling it back out. you gagged enough to spit his precum back over his tip.

“I like her too”. hyunjin mentions, completely stopping his hips just to watch you desperately fuck yourself to an orgasm. a throaty groan became a murmur as your legs trembled and the familiar wave of electricity washed over your whole entire body. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“she’s pulsating so hard around my tongue I think she’s about to cum”.

“she’s so cute look at her fucking herself. you gonna cream all over us baby?”. hyunjin groans.

your high pitched whine rang through the steamy atmosphere and as if your body listened to hyunjin words you did just that, your juices spilling down his thighs and waterfalls down yeonjun’s chin. hyunjin slips his fingers into the curve of your waist and fucks a bit more until your ass was filled with his cum, and the sticky contents of juyeons fluids were already slithering down your throat. your body spasmed and jerk so hard and yeonjun licks the aftershocks out of you before getting up and fucking your throat until he got a fix of his own. he grunts and roughly pulls your hair while he does so, letting his hot cum spill down your throat after he was finished. your limbs felt so weak. you wanted to just stay there and sleep. but unfortunately you had to walk back to your residence hall in this condition. it was fucking worth it though.

after you were freed from the handcuffs you could see the bruised rings on your wrist from them both. “put your clothes back on, go back to your dorm and take care of yourself baby”. yeonjun speaks just before they all vacated the room.

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her. 

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 

[reilliane]

Propensity ✤ Diluc

P r o p e n s i t y

A/N: Second part to the small trilogy! Diluc is jealous he just won't admit it sjjsdajdahdasf

➸ Hereafter (prequel)

✤ she/her

Words: 1.3k

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More often than not, the so-called Darknight Hero finds himself behind the counter serving customers their preferred beverages.

Though a certain traveler keeps on buying most of the stock (especially that wolf hook juice...), many still insist on lingering by the cozy ambiance of Angel's Share.

Who wouldn't when they are served with the finest of wines and juices?

Through many moons, Diluc has seen his share of intoxicated citizens.

They are all drowning in self-pity because of a ruined relationship, or in other things he really didn't want to be privy to, but such is a part of a bartender's job description—even if he's technically the owner—having to lend an ear to those who seek momentary refuge in alcohol.

He might just be a bank of secrets from everything he's heard and believe it or not, he has also heard quite a tale from the green garbed bard whose identity is much more... different.

With this in mind, such is the norm if he is also to come across.. [Name].

She's always fancied the taste of both wine and juices brewed by the winery and actually is one of the taste testers before the products are released to the public.

Diluc found it helpful of her to place in her aid even when he's not requiring her to, but he figured it's because she and her family still took refuge in his manor. Initially, it was only due to his father's insistence, but he did not mind the extra company.

Even if they're both faintly aloof and so unlike who they were before.

As Diluc stores away a newly dried glass by the shelves under the counter, he gets a good look at the white fabric in his hands, the snowy color similar to the hue of her thick blankets that was draped over him that one night he had returned to the manor.

It's been roughly eight months since then and that eventide was the only time the two of them had talked for more than three minutes, nowadays it's just trivial, insignificant phrases bidding and reciprocating greetings with frequent inquiries of each others' days.

The fallout was something he had expected to happen the moment he decided to leave Mondstadt, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't bother him throughout his journey—because it did.

The truth that he left her without so much as a goodbye (but a mere shrug of her hold on his arm) made him think twice about returning to apologize, but he was already so far into his venture that he had to persevere and wallow in his regret.

Throughout those four years, he has accepted his mistake and the possibility that she'd be giving him the cold shoulder—so when he returned to what he assumed is now an empty room in his manor (believing they left in his absence) but was instead greeted by a lady still deserving of proper closure, he was stunned.

Has she waited all this time?

She did, that much was obvious.

But he's grown to be rockhard as a stone that he only felt a tiny amount of guilt, but she was still [Name]—and she's been with him all his life until a couple of years ago, the least thing he could do was to honor that one thing reminiscent of the childhood dream he had robbed her of.

He came to know that in his stead stepped in his step-sibling, Kaeya, who had accompanied her through those years.

He also came to know that this continuity was never snipped off, it actually stayed, and he has seen it for himself more than he can count.

"You're quite the hard worker—and you're not even a part of the Knights." said a voice.

Diluc sighs through his nose as he opts to wipe the counter instead, but couldn't help to look over to the eastward table near the stairs, where Kaeya and [Name] are having a small feast to commemorate the latter's arrival from her business in the distant region of Sumeru.

A couple of empty glasses and plates are on their table.

"I don't need to be in the Knights to be productive, you know," Kaeya directs his stare to the crimson-haired man at this answer,

"And I have my own things to fuss over. One of them just happens to be in some faraway land." continued the Hydro-user, her voice meek and laced with subtle intoxication—though the two men know it's not enough to make her stumble and lose hold on her thinking.

The Ragnvindr averts his stare to appear dismissive, but the Chevalier knew better.

"Well you are here now and this simple dining just isn't enough." hums the bluenette, to which is responded at questioningly by the mage.

"Whatever are you getting at?"

She sounded amused.

Kaeya pretends to think over something as the lady bothered herself with the few wines left and he took this chance to shoot a mischievous, almost derisive look towards his step-brother, who purposefully chose to turn his back on them.

Snickering, the Captain shrugs his shoulders with nonchalance.

"I'm planning to take you out tomorrow night, how's that sound?"

Thud.

Bewildered at the sound, the cryo-blessed vision-holder smiles as [Name] turns slightly to search for the origin but fixes her attention back on her companion when she sees nothing suspicious.

Meanwhile, the latter's lip curl up even higher as Diluc emerged from under the counter, having picked up a wooden mug that has... slipped from his hold after hearing the invitation.

Funny of you, brother.

"I appreciate it, but I'm fairly busy nowadays..." responded the lady, "Do you think you can convince me? At the eventide, too..."

'Hm, you won't be able to convince her.' thought Diluc as he greeted the traveler (who surprisingly doesn't have Paimon with them) who took a seat in front of him and ordered a bunch of apple cider vinegar. '

There's only one way for her to accept your invite.' He'd know because they were close.

All those nights of creeping up to the manor's rooftop to—

"Why of course. I'm planning to head to Starsnatch Cliff. The stars are marvelously beautiful when gazed at under the perfect spot,"

He freezes, the faint twitching of his eye noticed by a surprised traveler who blankly accepts a glass of their ordered juice, still keeping a close watch on the odd expression on the man's normally blank visage.

"Especially with an equally beautiful lady," adds Kaeya.

Thud—splash!

"You flatter me," chuckled [Name], but an excited glint in her eye can be seen at the mere mention of stargazing, "And you know me well, don't you? I'd love to go."

Diluc's brows furrow as he apologized to the traveler after cleaning the messy spilling of their drink, making sure to have their next one on the house as he spun to prepare a new one.

It is just in the nick of time for him to see the two stand up and for the Chevalier to plant a chaste kiss on his childhood friend's hand. Just in the nick of time for him to see the cute shade of red on her cheeks.

But was that the thing that stirred him with some kind of sentiment?

It wasn't.

It was the single rhetorical question of her saying that he—Kaeya, out of all people—knew her well.

A sneer comes across his face as his lips turn to a straight line, his chest tightening with a muted hiss as the footsteps echoed in his ears, reminiscent of the times they ran with goofy smiles in the manor.

Bitter—how awfully bitter and sour this night is.

"Master Diluc?" he hears the concerned call of the traveler and he shakes his head, turning back around with a new juice in hand, again just in time to see the tavern door close.

Diluc allows a rare, much more visible frown to appear.

"Sorry, here's your drink."

Maybe if he had been faster, he would've seen the hopeful gaze [Name] had given him before she left.

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a/n: aye diluc, you handsome man, just go to mc already iauhfauwkfhkaf

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Return to the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

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@lehra @melkxsh

[gubler-me-up]

Red Lingerie

Request: Can I ask for a Sub!reader fix please? Some heavy nsfw?

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Very simple request but did I ever struggle to think of something LOL I hope it checks all your heavy NSFW checkboxes and it satisfies your craving! Happy reading! 😏

Couple: Dom!Spencer/Sub Fem!reader

Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)

Content warning: Unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, creampie, hair pulling, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, degradation, slight bondage, spanking, slapping, dom/sub dynamic, spitting, swearing

Word count: 5k

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Valentine’s Day was a day to celebrate the love between two lovers. Too bad your lover was away during the day. You two wanted to go out for a nice Valentine brunch, go for a romantic walk down by the lake before going home for the day to enjoy each other’s company. It was supposed to be extra special considering you two hadn’t spent a lot of time together for weeks.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend had an unpredictable job. He left a week before Valentine’s Day which earned him a huge, exaggerated sigh from you before you accepted he would be absent. You were excited to show him the special outfit you had planned for the night portion of your Valentine’s Day extravaganza. It was a little number you had picked up a few months prior because you felt as if you dripped sex in it.

When you tried it on in the store and looked at yourself, you felt as if you were the most beautiful version of a femme fatale. The mesh babydoll dress with mid-thigh high matching mesh stalkings that had a cute lace pattern at the top. The lace at the top of the stockings matched with the red lace thong that accompanied the outfit. Faux red feathers decorated the bottom of the mesh babydoll dress and a generous amount of the feathers covering your breasts. You knew it had to be yours immediately for not only your eyes to appreciate but for Spencer’s eyes as well.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror with the lingerie hanging from your fingertips as you pressed it up against your nude body. You sighed as you thought of what could have been. You tossed the outfit aside as the chances of Spencer coming home for Valentine’s night was slimming by the hours. Even though you weren’t going to wear it you decided you could at least get ready as if you were about to wear it. You opened the cupboard and pulled out your favourite lotion that made your skin feel amazing. You then pulled out your hair products and tools.

You reached for your phone on the bathroom counter to change the playlist on your phone to something uplifting. Sometimes you needed the motivation to style your hair into something decent. You noticed a text from Spencer on your lock screen. You raised a curious eyebrow as you saw the message he had sent you. A smile instantly spread across your face and you could feel your heart race in excitement. You put down your phone before picking up your red lingerie piece.

You placed it against your body again. You admired yourself in the mirror once more but this time you looked more energized, over the moon even. You used your free hand to press the lingerie closer against your body as you rand your hand down it to mimic how Spencer’s hand would caress your body in a few minutes.

“I guess I am going to be his little whore tonight.”

You spent the next 20 minutes preparing yourself for his arrival. You knew how much he loved seeing you all dolled up for him. It made the unwrapping process so much more enticing for him. He loved stripping you from perfection down to the desperate whore you masked behind your perfect hair and put-together look. You loved the way he looked at you once he had you how he wanted you. It was as if you were his candy he wanted to indulge in over and over and over again.

You made sure your hair was perfectly done with not a single strand out of place. You made sure every part of your body had your favourite lotion portioned on it. You then pulled up your mid-thigh high stockings before slipping on your lace panties. You then completed your ensemble with the red baby doll dress. You made sure to fix your hair in the mirror one last time before leaving the bathroom to get yourself positioned.

Before you went on the bed, you went to the dresser and selected his favourite perfume of yours. You sprayed your neck once on the left and then once on the right. You lightly sprayed your breasts for him. You then sprayed your wrist and rubbed your wrists together to pass on the scent to the other. You placed the perfume bottle back in its spot and went to turn off the bedroom light.

When the lights went off the only light pouring in was from the February moonlight. You went to the side table to turn on the lamp to add a bit more light to the room. You didn’t waste any more time lingering on the small things as you knew he’d be home any minute now. You crawled in the bed to get yourself ready for his arrival. You laid on your side with one hand propping your head up with the other laying on your side.

It was as if he knew you were ready for him because not even a minute passed by when you heard the apartment door open. You felt your heart race again as you could hear him place his keys down on the side table next to the door and heard his footsteps walking towards the bedroom. He wasn’t even in your presence yet and you were already getting wet at the mere thought of all the things he would do to you.

He opened the bedroom door to see you waiting for him on the bed with your red lingerie. He had a large bouquet of red and white roses wrapped in a light pink wrapping paper. You believed he wanted to surprise you with them but you had beat him to the surprise of the night. He stood there, frozen, analyzing every inch of your body.

You smiled at him. “Are those roses for your favourite whore?”

He smirked before he started to move again. He walked over to the empty chair in the room and placed the flowers on it. He looked back over at you before taking off his suit jacket. You eagerly changed your position from laying down to being on your knees on the bed.

He walked over to you as he started to undo his tie. As soon as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t help but put your hands on his face. You looked at him with an overbearing lust in your eyes as you caressed your hands down to his neck to pull him closer to you. You took a hold of his undone tie with both hands as you stared into his desired driven eyes.

“Please make me your whore for tonight,” you begged.

He tried his best to refrain from breaking into a smile from how needy you sounded. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs and caressed them gently up and down. Your muscles loosened up under his touch and you just wanted him to wreck you already.

“I don’t think you’re ready to be my whore tonight,” he said.

You pouted. “I am. I want you to fuck me like a dirty whore. I want you to use me as a cum dump.”

He nested his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel his steady breathing on your neck before he planted two kisses on your neck. You let out an eager moan as you tugged on his tie to get some kind of response from him. He hit your earlobe softly before placing his mouth close to your ear.

“You want to be a cum slut not just a simple whore,” he whispered.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be. If you want me to be your cum slut, I’ll be your cum slut. If you want me to be a filthy whore, I’ll be-”

You gasped as you felt him shove two of his fingers into you. You felt his fingers steadily flick against your g-spot. You moaned out a hungry as you desperately wanted him to continue. He had you right where he wanted you and you wanted to continue being in his lustful grasp.

“I’ll decide what you are and what you’re not tonight. Do I make myself clear?” He asked.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimpered.

He took out his fingers from inside you. He leaned away from you and you immediately dropped your grip on his tie. From the way he looked at you it was clear he was ready to use you like the whore you wanted to be treated like. He placed his fingers on your mouth and then shoved them in so you could taste yourself. You moaned in delight to let him know you enjoyed the taste.

“I need a good vessel for my dick. Do you think your whore mouth can do that?” He asked.

You nodded in response. He took his fingers out of your mouth and immediately gripped your neck. He pulled you close to his face so you could see how disappointed he looked.

“I think a desperate whore like you can use her words,” he said.

“My whore mouth can do anything for you, sir,” you said.

“I don’t want to hear any gagging. You’re going to take my dick like a deprived whore. Am I making myself fucking clear?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you responded.

Without another word exchanged, he pushed you down to the side with you looking up to the ceiling. He gripped onto your hair and yanked your head so it would dangle off the bed. Even though you could see he still had his pants on you didn’t wait to open your mouth to prepare yourself for his dick.

You watched eagerly the upside-down image of him undressing. He threw his tie on the bed which could only mean he was planning on using it later. He threw off his dress shirt and flung it on the ground. He then unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled them off just leaving his underwear on.

He approached your mouth and rested his bulge on your mouth. You licked the fabric which concealed what you really wanted in your mouth. You could feel his hard dick through the fabric which made you overly excited and overly wet.

“Pull it off if you want it so bad, whore,” he demanded.

You didn’t hesitate to yank his underwear off. His dick slapped you on your face as it bounced out which made you smile. With no more delay, he shoved it in your mouth. You tried your hardest not to gag on it, especially when he went right into fucking your mouth.

He pulled down the top of your babydoll dress to reveal your breasts. He gripped your right breast into his right hand with a mighty grip on it. You let out a powerful moan in response. He slapped your breast and you felt the sting linger before he did it again.

“Did I tell you to make a fucking noise? Your mouth is for sucking my dick, not for commentary,” he said as he slapped your breast again.

Your facial muscles flinched but you didn’t make another sound. If you wanted to be his whore for the night, you had to do everything he said. You knew what he had in store for you was going to be a night of sexual thrills.

You then felt his hands messing around with your underwear. You heard a slight rip of lace but didn’t care since you expected it to happen. When he was in the zone, clothing couldn’t keep him from getting what he wanted from you. You soon felt his fingers back in you stroking your g-spot. You tried your best to refrain from moaning even though he was pushing you towards it.

“Your whore pussy’s as wet as your fucking mouth. I can’t choose which one to cum in first,” he said.

You felt your legs tremble as he started to stroke your g-spot even more intensely. You tried your best not to make a single sound and continued to let him fuck your mouth. Your spit started to leak out of your mouth and go down your face. You could feel it go down your cheeks, past your forehead, and into your hair in an overflowing, bubbly stream.

Your focus switched from your hair to your clit when you felt him fiercely circling your clit. You couldn’t even hide how badly your legs trembled and you could no longer hold back your moans. You let out a cry of a moan repeatedly. Your sounds only motivated him to go faster and faster around your clit. His thrusts inside your mouth started to become more rapid and deep to the point where his dick was touching your throat.

“I thought I told you not to say a fucking word while I’m fucking your disgusting whore mouth,” he said.

You couldn't even respond to plea your case as his thrusts weren’t lightening up and neither was his hand around your clit. He stopped circling your clit and landed a harsh slap on your overstimulated clit. You let out a muffled shriek as the slap tingled throughout your body. He then went back to circling it for a few seconds before slapping it again. You arched your back as you muffled out another shriek.

“You were fucking begging me to treat you like a whore and you can’t even put out like one. You better be the fucking best cum slut right now if you want a chance to get fucked,” he said.

He went back to circling your clit as you tried to maintain your cool. Then you felt it. You felt a tingling sensation overcome your body. You tried to hold it back. You tried extremely hard to. Then he put his fingers back in you to stroke your g-spot relentlessly. You had no choice at that point but to cum.

You arched your back further as you let your orgasm take over your body. You moaned loudly around his mouth but he didn’t let up from fucking your mouth. He also wasn’t done with you. You felt him roughly squeeze your left breast in response to you having an orgasm. You let out a muffled shriek in response.

He went back to rapidly circling your overstimulated clit. You were still on a high from your orgasm so you couldn’t control anything any longer. You could feel tears forming in your eyes from how overwhelmed your pussy felt from his touch. You muffled a scream around his dick as you felt yourself squirt. He slapped it one last time which nearly made you jolt off the bed.

“You weak fucking whore. You get a little overstimulated and you decide to cum,” he said.

You didn’t attempt to moan anything. He didn’t give you the chance to anyway. He grabbed the back of your head to push your mouth all the way on his dick. You couldn’t hold back your gag as he hit the back of your throat. You could feel the tears drip from your eyes to join your saliva in your hair.

You couldn’t even move back from it with the way he gripped your head. He had you exactly where he wanted you and where you wanted him to have you. In no more than a few seconds you felt his cum in your mouth. You coughed since it tickled the back of your throat. He soon pulled it out to look at you. You let out a few more coughs and some of his cum managed to leak out of the side of your mouth.

He didn’t ignore your little slip-up. He slapped you on your cheek as a response to wasting his cum. You took it with no complaint because you knew you were being bad for wasting his cum after you begged for it. You already disappointed him with disobeying his demand of you being quiet and now this. You were definitely in for some big trouble.

“What kind of fucking cum slut wastes cum?” He asked as he slapped you again.

“A bad one, sir,” you whimpered.

“Don’t beg for shit if you can’t fucking deliver,” he said with another slap to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be a good cum whore from now on, sir,” you begged.

He grabbed you by your hair and sat you up on the bed. He then yanked you off the bed with your still slightly shaky legs. You got off and he pulled you down to your knees so you were face to face with his dick.

“Apologize to it,” he said as he shoved your face into his pelvis.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Sorry for what?” He asked.

“For wasting your cum,” you said.

He shoved your head down towards his balls. You assumed he wanted you to put them in your mouth to show how really sorry you were. You placed them in your mouth and sucked on them until a fresh pool of saliva escaped your mouth. He then pulled you away and forced you to look up at him. You could see this desire mixed with fury in his eyes. You could feel a tingle run down your spine again. If he could send chills down your spine with just a look he definitely owned you. You could have just melted into a pool with the way he looked as if he wanted to fuck his rage into you.

“Do you think you deserve punishment?” He asked.

“Yes, I do, sir. I’ve been such a bad cum slut,” you said.

He slapped you on the cheek with his free hand. “Don’t dare call yourself a cum slut until you can properly take cum. Fucking get up.”

He didn’t give you the chance to stand on your own two feet before he yanked you up by your hair. He pulled off your red babydoll lingerie dress and tossed it aside. He then threw your torso onto the bed, leaving your legs to be close to the floor. He pulled down your underwear and you stepped out of it. You felt him roughly squeeze your right ass cheek as if he was trying to find the right spot or the most tender part. You knew exactly what he was going to do and only a second later did he do it.

You let out a scream as he harshly spanked your right ass cheek. It stung so bad you knew it was going to leave some sort of bruise in the morning. He then did it again in the same spot. You screamed again as you tensed your right ass cheek from the pain. You knew his hand was in the air for a third one on the same spot so out of instinct you placed the back of your hand on the spot he hit. You could feel the heat radiating off from it.

“You fucking slut,” he said.

He grabbed your wrist and yanked it away from the spot he had hit. He then grabbed your other wrist and held them both together with his right hand. You turned your head to the left to see what he was going to do next. You saw him reach for his tie he had thrown on the bed and knew the chances of you using your hands for the rest of the night were slim.

He tied your wrists together as tightly as he possibly could. He made sure you weren’t able to interfere with his punishment any further. He yanked on his tie to see if it was tight enough. You knew they were tight enough just by the way they squeezed your wrists. They would definitely leave a mark once you were untied.

He noticed you looking at what he was doing. You immediately looked away so he wouldn’t think you were trying to overpower him in any way. You were genuinely curious as to what he was doing. You knew he wouldn’t accept that answer at all.

You felt his body closer to you as if he was leaning over you. You felt his teeth dig into your shoulder and you let out a short yelp. Then he did it again and again and again across your shoulder until he reached your ear. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t make another weak sound.

He grazed his lips on your ear. “This is exactly why a slut like you needs someone like me to keep you in line.”

You nodded your head still without looking at him. You felt his hand grab the back of your neck. He turned it so you had to face him. His eyes were low and his breathing was oddly calm and steady. You hadn’t even done much work but you knew you looked wild and untamed compared to him. Exactly how he loved you to look.

“Isn’t that right, slut?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered.

“You’re going to take your punishment and you’re going to fucking love it. Are we clear on that?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He leaned up and didn’t waste a second. You felt him spank the same spot for the fourth time. You buried your face into the sheets to prevent your scream from hitting his ears. He grabbed your hair and yanked it up.

“Say how much you fucking love it,” he demanded as he sparked the same spot.

“I fucking love it,” you screamed with tears stinging your eyes again.

“Keep saying it,” he said as he spanked the same spot again.

“I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeatedly shrieked as he continued to spank the same spot.

He then let your hair go. You let your head fall onto the bed in silent relief. You breathed heavily into the sheets as you took the time to catch your breath. It didn’t even sting anymore. After the fifth time it almost became numb. Obviously your punishment wasn’t over though. He yanked your head up by his right hand this time.

“Next cheek,” he said.

His announcement was followed by a deafening spank on a fresh canvas. You bit your lip hard as you tried not to scream. You let your tears freely escape your eyes as he did it again.

“I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeated as he spanked you repeatedly.

“That’s what a fucking cum slut should act like. Pathetic and desperate,” he said as he spanked you again.

“I’m a pathetic fucking cum slut,” you screamed as he spanked you again.

He yanked your hair. “And what are you fucking desperate for?”

“Your cum in my pussy,” you screamed as he spanked you again.

He yanked you up so you were standing in front of him. He shifted your body so you were facing away from the bed. He yanked your hair back so you could see his face. By the way he looked at you, you knew it was time. You tried to refrain from smirking to avoid another round of spanks.

“You better make me fucking happy,” he said.

“I’m your fucking cum dump, sir. I won’t waste it again, I swear,” you said.

He then pushed you over so you were at a 90-degree angle. You had nothing supporting you by your legs and your back. Your hands were still tied and you had no bed to rest on. You knew this was his way of testing how committed you were to his need for you to be his willing cum slut.

He grabbed your ass and you let out a soft yelp from the sting that ran through your body. You waited in anticipation as you could feel his dick outside of your hole. You wanted to move back so bad to take him into you fully. You had to keep reminding yourself about the stinging of your ass to calm your desire for him to fuck you.

He cut you from your thoughts as he pushed you back onto his dick. You shrieked out of surprise as you felt his whole dick enter you. He kept pushing you back and forth instead of thrusting into you. It was a unique choice but a calculated move. He for sure wanted to test you and you weren’t one to make a mistake twice. It was hard keeping your balance as your stockings were sliding against the hardwood floor.

“Keep your fucking balance, slut,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned.

You straightened yourself up as you continued to let him use you in the way he pleased. You could hear him making slight groaning sounds which you hadn’t heard all night. You just knew he was in love with the way his dick felt in you. You started to think he realized how good of a cum slut you could be with a pussy like yours. Your mouth could use a bit more work but he could never complain about the way your pussy hugged his dick so well.

“Your pussy sounds as if it’s ready for cum,” he said.

You took the time to hear the way your pussy sounded when his dick went in and out of you. You smiled at the sound of it. He then sped up the pace. Nothing but his groans, your moans and the sound of your juices sounded the room.

“My slut pussy wants your cum in me,” you moaned.

He continued to move you back and forth on his dick at a rapid pace to what you guessed was to come to his finish. Your legs started to wobble and become unstable as his strokes made you unbalanced. You arched forward as the pleasure of him fucking you was taking over your whole body.

He smashed you against him all the way. You shrieked at the thrill of having his dick all the way in you. You didn’t even care about the sting you felt when your ass hit his body. He grabbed your hair to pull you all the way up so your body was against his. He pulled your hair back so you could look at him again.

He placed his mouth against your neck to bite it. You moaned loudly in satisfaction and widened your eyes as you felt him full you with his cum. You bit your lip as he slowed down his pace to gently fuck his cum into you.

“Let’s see how good your slut pussy took my cum,” he said into your neck.

He pulled out his dick from you and reached down to rub his finger up your pussy. You shivered at his touch and let out a soft moan as he inspected. He brought his finger up so you both could see how well you did. There was a little bit of cum on his fingers. You eagerly opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. He gave in to your eagerness by glazing his cum on your tongue.

You gladly took his cum into your mouth. You made sure to show him how happy you were to have his cum in your mouth again. You wanted him to know you wouldn’t dare waste another drop of his cum. You opened your mouth to show him every trace of his cum was gone.

“Now that’s how a cum slut takes cum,” he said.

“Does that mean I can always be your cum slut, sir?” You asked.

“You have major potential, slut,” he said.

He used his other hand to grip the side of your cheeks. He squeezed them hard enough for you to open your mouth. He spit into your mouth. He let go of your face and watched you swallow his spit. You opened your mouth to show him you could swallow more than cum to make him happy.

“I’m dedicated to being your personal cum slut,” you said.

“I love to hear that, slut. I can’t wait to use you again,” he said.

“Maybe another day though. I think I overworked you tonight,” he said.

He let your hair go as he backed up from you. He untied your wrists and you could feel the circulation back in your hands. You watched him go over to the chair and pick up the bouquet of roses. He looked back at you with a gentle smile but still had lust glazing over his eyes. He walked over to you with the bouquet.

“For my favourite cum slut,” he said.

You smiled as you took the bouquet from him. He grabbed your face to pull you closer to him. He hit you with a huge, pleasure-filled kiss. It felt as if he waited to give you this kiss from the time he walked through the door. He backed away from you and leaned into your neck to kiss it.

“I know you wore that perfume for me. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I love a cum slut who cares about the little details for me,” he whispered in your neck.

“I would do anything for you, sir. Thank you for the flowers,” you said.

He leaned up from your neck to look at you. He grabbed your neck gently which brought a proud smile to your face. He grabbed your ass which caused you to yelp pathetically. It brought a smile to his face.

“There are also chocolate covered-strawberries in the kitchen for you. Eat up so you have the energy to be my cum slut again. I want to give your mouth a second chance,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t disappoint this time,” you said.

He kissed you gently on the lips. “I love to hear that. Happy Valentine’s Day, slut.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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