#sigh.... my problem is that unless I get the Feeling of guilt I often don't do anything about stuff I know is wrong

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

screwed up again

[writingshushf1]

enemies to lovers w lewis!! trope just fits him so well imo

Line without a hook

Summary: I don't really give a damn about the way you touch me.

Rating: +16

Warnings: enemies to lovers, a bit of asshole!lewis and the reader is also a bit of an asshole, some mature language. W13 and W14 being shitty cars.

Word count: 3.8k

Note: WE COULDN'T NOT HAVE A CLASSIC HERE, RIGHT? I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, so here we have one! Honestly? My best enemies to lovers written, mostly because I spent a little time ressearching about it (I started writing this afternoon) and building around it.

masterlist

Guilt. That's what you felt, but another feeling managed to override it. Anger.

You were at the head of the W13 development and it was terrible, a complete disappointment. And the worst part?It was your first year in a high position in a manufacturer, all the other years you spent locked up in laboratories, you never even got to meet the race tracks or even the Mercedes drivers - unless there was some publicity they had to record inside the factory. I mean, you became friends with Mick because he was often there, but this story isn't about him.

W13 had failed and the blame fell on you and the other staff who worked on it, so you decided to put your heads down and rebuild everything, make the ideas from 0 for W14. Into that came your stress, it had a name - a powerful name - Lewis Hamilton. He spent a whole 2022 criticising the car, making suggestions that were promptly ignored by engineers higher than you, which resulted in him getting a bitter feeling about you all.

"He arrived with heavy steps inside the luxurious factory, his voice with the strong English accent bursting through the walls, he was indignant. You took a deep breath, ducking your head and went back to fiddling with some parts of the car, trying to avoid Hurricane Hamilton. But to your misfortune, he opened the door to the room next to Russell and Toto - who were just as frustrated. Unfortunately, you were the only person still in the room, it was already late at night, but you wouldn't sleep until you found out what the damn problem was with that wagon they called a car. Obviously none of them would remember your name, so you kept tidying up with your headphones blasting Beyoncé until impatient taps on your shoulder ended your moment of peace.

"Sorry... Well, I'm not the boss of that area yet, so unfortunately I'm not the one who decided that, sir." You replied, turning back to the car and sitting down on the ground.

"You guys didn't listen to my suggestions and now the car is shit." The black pilot sighed, crossing his arms.

"But you are important in that sector. That I am sure of."

"I commented to Lewis and George about who was in charge, so if they wanted to come with their questions, they could turn to you and the others." Wolff replied, which made your blood boil with hatred.

"How would you know that?"

"Sorry, that still doesn't give you the right to come at me with an accusatory tone, after all I'm not the one giving the final answer." You rolled your eyes, fitting the piece you had noticed and pulling out another to take to the analysis. "I know the car wasn't what you expected. Honestly, none of us expected it to happen. After the tests, we thought it just needed some repairs."

"I understand you're feeling that way, we're all working day and night to fix it."

"A few repairs? Wow. That's pretty subtle thinking that it underperformed. Compared to 2021 and 2020, it's useless."

"And where's the rest?"

"For God's sake!" You looked at the other two who were trying to distract themselves with things in the room so as not to focus on your argument with the number one Mercedes driver that could have you fired in a few seconds. "It's Saturday, almost 10 o'clock at night, the factory is far from the city, don't you think people deserve a rest? I stayed here because of my role as one of the heads of this project. I don't have the luxury to rest, I don't know if you understand that."

His eyebrows drew together and you could have sworn he would start shouting at any moment and cuss you out for the reaction you had, however he kept quiet and left the scene without another word. You stared at Toto for a few seconds and he told you to go home, working tired and hot headed wouldn't do you any good. And it was from that day on that you started to hate him."

2023, the first race of the W14 left a lot to be desired, George was still positive and willing to sacrifice his year for the evolution of the car, however not the seven-time champion, he wanted a competitive car. Half way through last year you were getting more seats and now you were the co-creator of the W14, which was heavy on your shoulders. Again, Hamilton and you were almost at each other's throats during the team briefing until Wolff gave you both a timeout. You quickly left the room, grabbing a coffee and sitting on the hospitality stairs. Within seconds, Mick sat down next to you.

"Yeah, Maybe he's taking it too heavily, but I don't take away the whole reason the car is missing the essentials. Competitiveness." The German huffed.

"Honey, you say that like I don't know.... Of course I do! But he could stop being a spoiled little boy. He's a grown man who needs to learn that we're constantly evolving and yes we're going to have some tough years and that can only be solved by us changing the car, which can sometimes take hours, days, months before we get back into our pace."

“I know, but in this meantime, Red Bull and Ferrari will be overcoming new things while we are stuck behind Aston Martin.” Lewis commented, passing by you two.

“No shit, Sherlock.” You snapped, walking away from both of them.

“That was too much, man.” Schumacher said, crossing his arms.

“I know… But that’s the reality, she knows what’s happening, so… It’s not my fault.”

“So it isn’t hers alone.”

………………………………………………………………….

It was late at night again, you had been up for almost 48 hours, sorting people, analysing statistics, fiddling with parts. Your body was screaming for rest and this could be seen clearly by anyone passing you. It was almost dawn and you were still in the pits, sitting on the floor with a few empty energy drink cans around you, four computers in front of you, and your headphones on. You heard footsteps, but at first you decided to ignore them, it wasn't important, the focus was to understand what the fuck was going on with W14. Suddenly a "tsc" could be heard, it was then that you turned your face and found yourself face to face with Lewis Hamilton, his body inches from yours - and what a body. You took a deep breath and backed away.

"What's wrong, your majesty?"

"There." He pointed at the screen.

"Yes. I'm trying to fix it."

"But you're not succeeding, excuse me." He placed his hands on the keyboard and you were completely distracted, sleep was catching up with you.

He kept typing and changing things, clicking, even removing the headphones from your head and putting them on it, staying for a few minutes, until he looked at you.

"For someone who's in such a high position, I can't believe you missed that." He cracked a cocky smile.

"Oh! I'm sorry Sir Hamilton for being up for almost 48 hours straight, trying to fix your car first because apparently it was put on my list against my will, however as a good employee for this team, I dedicated myself exclusively to your car." You retorted, sitting on some tires. Throwing your head back, you let out a big sigh and ran your hands over your face, feeling that if he was the slightest bit ruder, tears would leak from your eyes and you'd make a fool of yourself in front of him.

"Go back to the hotel, for God's sake. The race is tomorrow and no one can be tired, because that results in failure." He trailed off, looking you up and down. "And take a shower, you're in need."

"Fuck off!"

The other day, you were still exhausted, yet better than a few hours ago. With a strong cup of coffee, clean clothes and a shower, you arrived still early in the morning, ordering everyone to do their respective jobs, while your stomach was screaming for food - you couldn't even remember when was the last time you'd eaten, so you quickly went and grabbed a sandwich to get through the day.

The race was okay, a podium, a fifth place. Could do better.

In that two-week gap without racing, you spent as much time as possible inside the factory, trying to fix the unconscionable and getting frustrated every time. This happened so often that there were moments you would disappear and hide to cry, feeling like a failure in that place - maybe a dismissal wasn't the end of the world, some other lesser team might want you.

Surprisingly, in the meantime, Lewis started showing up daily at the factory, working with everyone else - and charming everyone with his silly charm that made anyone fall in love with him. He chatted to people, asked them to bring snacks that you barely touched, your hunger seemed to disappear when he was near - along with all the tranquillity. Obviously, whenever he could, you exchanged insults and dry replies, something that could be observed from afar, but nobody dared to comment, for fear of being annihilated by one of you.

One fateful night he decided to stay late, so it was eleven o'clock at night and only the two of you were in the room. The silence was uncomfortable, deafening and suffocating, it seemed that in a few exchanges of glances you were stabbing each other. The passive-aggressiveness passed the moment you cried out in sort of relief, which caught his attention. Finally you had managed to solve a problem that had been bothering you for weeks and no one seemed to solve it. It seemed like a small victory, of many you wished were coming.

"What happened?" he asked in a dull tone.

"Look here! I managed to solve that one.... That..." It seemed as if the words had escaped his lips from so much euphoria he was feeling. "That shit that made Russell's car break down in the last race! It was so simple, but it needed a general approach, not so thorough..." You let a laugh escape your lips as he walked over to where you were standing.

"Oh." He was speechless too. As much as you said that this was a simple problem, he knew it wasn't, he had noticed your effort and frustration in the meantime, it was something extremely difficult that required patience and intelligence - things you had. "Let's take a break then, to celebrate."

You cracked a smile at him - the first time since you had met, which made him return the smile. The two of you walked together to where there were some tables after grabbing some food, no one else but you two. The silence settled again, but not as uncomfortable as before, it was neutral.

It was two am, and you still were working on the W14, but this time was improving, he made some hits and that was when you started to tease each other.

“Oh, I didn’t know that drivers could be this smart, I thought you guys dropped after a while and finished on homeschooling.” You teased him.

“Hey! I even studied engineering, you could pay some respect.” He held back a smile. “And it’s Sir Lewis Hamilton for you, I didn’t give you intimacy to just talk to me like that.”

“Someone’s feisty.” You chuckled. “Okay, sir.” You licked your lips, throwing yourself on the sofa. “Oops, sorry… Okay, Sir Lewis Hamilton, I’ll only call you like that now, majesty.”

He sucked in his breath, closing his fists before chuckling too. “And someone’s really going off the limits, maybe you should take care you know… I’m still your boss and I can do whatever I want.”

“Kinky. Power dynamics? I always thought you would want to be called daddy.” You played it off, holding your laugh.

“Oh God.” He started laughing loudly, joining his hands against his chin, before moving his head in a ‘no’ “We’re too sleep deprived to keep this.”

“Or too sober.”

“Don’t even try it, girl.” He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I’ll ask the guard to close the factory.”

……………………………………………………………………….

After that night, your relationship became calmer. Sure, you still constantly traded insults and irony at every opportunity, but it was an evolution nonetheless - now they weren't aggressive, with a passive-aggressive undertone, it was more jokes and banter to take the edge off the team's rebuild with W14 - which by now, had made more decent progress, a win in the pocket.

You were working through some analysis of the car, when suddenly, a Lewis removing his t-shirt because of the heat caught you completely off guard, which made your cheeks boil with embarrassment and your eyes stare longingly at his pecs to the point where he noticed.

"See something you like?" he commented, flashing you a smug smile.

"I just think it's inappropriate for you to be shirtless in a workplace. You have a trailer for that." You shrugged, feeling an unbearable heat hit your body. He was hot and unfortunately your body agreed with that.

"All right then, Miss Goody Two-shoes." You pointed your middle finger at him as the British pilot walked off, while he returned the gesture still with that damn smile.

That night, he dreamed of you. Our brains like to play tricks and make us think crazy things. And that's exactly what it played with the black driver that night. Her hands roamed his body, laughter from both sides filled the room as he could see her silhouette in just purple lingerie, while he was only in his underwear. Your bodies were glued together, moving at an incredible pace, it was just about you two and no one else. No hate, no failing cars, no guilt.

He woke up panting, before the dream had its proper end. A tent settled in his shorts, which made him groan in denial, running his hands over his face, trying to forget the scene he had just dreamt, however it was almost impossible, it was something so sexy he couldn't let it go.

For the next few weeks, he ignored you almost completely, only showing up to talk about car stuff - be it suggestions or just complaining that they would never catch up with Red Bull by the end of the season, which made you even more stressed. It felt like you guys were back to stage one. At first, you even tried to ignore it and think that he wasn't in a good mood, but when it persisted, you were ready to strike back. Meanwhile, Hamilton's mind was a mess, he wasn't supposed to have dreamt about you, let alone gone on and on and on having recurring dreams about the two of you, let alone him noticing when the white shirt was too see-through and he knew what colour your bra was. It was getting to be too much for him and his defence mechanism was to try and walk away and go back to square one. He knew he'd been rude to you at first, but part of him didn't want to apologise, to accept that you could be friends-or even the possibility that he wanted something more.

It was another early morning at the Mercedes plant, now you were already thinking about the W15, because you knew that everything had gone wrong, but you refused to tell anyone. Early in the morning, Lewis went to his usual room and found you pacing back and forth, stressed about the possibility of them never getting out of this hole, of her never being able to make him win his eighth championship.

"Did someone fall out of bed? It's six-thirty in the morning." He said, soon sitting down at one of the desks and turning on his computer.

"To fall out, I should at least be asleep first." You retorted, banging your fist on the table in anger that again, the program was giving data that was incompatible with what you had planned.

"Again? Aren't you working too fucking much?" He questioned, which honestly was the last straw you needed to freak out. Even if he wasn't being rude.

"Yes, I've been working my ass off, Hamilton. I'm on the verge of burnout and you know whose fault it is? Yours! It's all on you!" Because I work day and night, I don't rest, I keep planning and recalculating everything just to please you, to make the car you want and still nothing is good, nobody is satisfied! You felt tears fall from your eyes, but this was not the time to care about that. "Do you know what it's like for a whole team to depend on your team of engineers and you're constantly letting everyone down? No! You don't." Her voice was already cracking with sobs. "I can't take it anymore! I can't stand living like this anymore. And still have people telling the world that I'm incompetent!" You completely lost the strength in your legs, falling to your knees on the floor and putting your hands to your face to cover your crying.

He waited for you to say everything you needed to say, to get your anguish off your chest, so that after you had stopped talking, he would get up and go to the floor with you, hugging your body and passing his free hand over your locks, letting you cry as much as you needed, just being comforted by his presence.

…………………………………………………………

Your relationship got better after you had a breakdown in front of him, he understood you were going under a very stressful moment, because everyone seemed to only count on you, forgetting that they were a team. That day, he took you to your house, waited for you to get some comfortable clothes and ordered food. You didn’t talk about it, just enjoyed each other’s company in silence. And that’s how it worked between you two, until it didn’t work again.

Hamilton was restless, he felt the need to talk with you by text, calls, in person, would oftenly walk with very revealing looks and take off his shirt around you, just to see your face red with embarrassment and the deep looks on his torso.

He knew there was something more, but he waited. He tested the waters first, became slowly sweeter by the time, calmer and actually never complained to you again, he tried to be more positive and improve his work with the car you had. And that made you warm up towards him, he was actually capable of change, to be a very caring person when he liked the person.

When you started to have this sort of friendship, you felt guilty for snapping at him multiple times, the same way he felt bad for being so rude towards you the year before. 

One day, he asked if you wanted to stay late on the paddock, so you could work on some things about W14, little things to improve for the race on Sunday afternoon. Of course you agreed, you have been doing that for months now, one night more it wouldn’t kill you.

The comfortable silence between you two was broken by him.

“I owe you an apology.” He whispered, like that was a forbidden subject.

“I…” You took a few seconds to realise. “I think I owe you one too.”

“So will we both be forgiven then?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m sorry. For being a brat and an entitled asshole… For not seeing you as a person, someone amazing that works like hell because she wants the best for everyone.” He got closer, touching your forearm.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, multiple times. I should’ve been more mature.” You avoided looking at him, as much as his eyes were so hypnotising.

When you least expected it, your bodies were together in a very intimate hug. His hands around your hips, while your arms pressed his body against you.

“I’m not the only one feeling this, right?” He muttered, alternating his look between your eyes and lips.

“Unfortunately, no.”

And that he took as a consent to crash his lips against yours, in a desperate kiss, like he waited for such a long time to do that, in reaction, you intertwined one of your hands in his braids and the other lowered to his back, holding at his Mercedes black t-shirt. He soon lowered his hands to your thighs, pulling you to sit on top of some tyres. Your tongues were moving against each other, slow and needy, like a dream coming true. When air made it necessary, he held your waist and smiled.

“It took so long…” He whispered against your ear. “If I knew we only were horny for each other, we could have solved this a long time ago…” You could hear his cocky smile.

“Fuck you.” You muttered back, letting your fingers run on his neck. “If it was months ago… I would have denied it until my deathbed. I’m happy being in this state now.” You left some kisses along his jaw.

“Angel… Not here. Maybe my hotel room may be a more appropriate place for you to get all touchy like that.”

“Sad… I would love to have some risky sex in the paddock, sir.” You joked.

“Maybe someday. But let’s start at the most obvious place. A bed.” He held your hand and guided you to his car.

So… Sir Lewis Hamilton wasn’t so bad after all.

[sweet-cynical-writer]

Thank you to everyone who waited patiently!!! The long overdue update is here for Soukoku's Love Child!

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Suicide, Gore, Death

Special thanks to @soukokuwu naturally for proofreading & of course continuing to be my partner for the series! ♡

Soukoku's Love Child - Nikkō's Past

The soft piano music carried on a reminiscent sound as Dazai walked into Lupin. As he settled into his seat, a certain ginger haired mafioso let out an exasperated sigh as if he'd been expecting company for quite some time. His partner was late as usual.

“What kept you this time, shitty Dazai?”

He took his drink in hand to take a sip before replying. And naturally it made Chuuya upset. A warning glare shot towards the barkeep who was only there to do his job and nothing more. Dazai didn't mind ;In fact for as long as he'd been coming to Lupin, he was always served without having to place a single order.

“I was visiting someone along the way. Turns out, they need my help.”

His partner opened his mouth to retort that there's no way he would assist in helping him but was cut off as if it were expected.

“Chuuya. I know you don't want me to get involved in anyone's problems. But this is a special case. And it will affect you as well.”

The way he released an audible, ‘Tch’ made Dazai smirk with amusement. It was his partner's way of saying, ‘go on and explain yourself fast before I rip your head off’.

“I'm glad you understand. Now. To put it bluntly, I found out more about this kid I ran into. We should adopt him. There's too much risk keeping him in that orphanage and if someone else comes along to grab him.. well let's just say it will only create more work for us.”

Chuuya was irritated at the idea of having a child to look after. He hardly would have patience for Dazai as troublesome and childish he could be. Taking care of a real child would be a nightmare.

“Now listen here, if you think that you could just make all the decisions here and I would just go along with it, you're dead wrong.”

Sure, Chuuya was aware that when it came to making life changing decisions that Dazai had a natural gift for choosing right every time. But that didn't mean the ginger had to mindlessly agree every time something like this occurred.

The way he cooly took his drink to his lips only made him more angry. That sly smile played on his lips like he could order the mafia executive around like some second hand maid.

“Look you bandaged bastard, I mean it. If we just ignore this child and we do end up with more work, so what? We could always use an alternative to helping the kid find a stable home rather than have us watch him.”

Even given their separate roles, it would be impossible for either of them to always have visual watch on the kid. Was he expecting the two of them to play hot potato taking care of him? And then there were always the possibilities of the kid wandering off. Chuuya shook his head after drinking from his glass.

"No, Dazai. There's too much maintenance to bother having this kid in our care. I say make him someone else's problem or just forget about it.”

He knew better than to doubt Dazai's intuition. As insufferable this man was, he never made a wrong call on a long term decision. Ultimately, that was part of the pros of dating such a man. Still, no matter how sharp Dazai was in taking the lead, Chuuya refused to cooperate. This time, Dazai was asking for too much on his part.

To be honest, the burnette anticipated a reaction like this from Chuuya. He didn't look surprised in the slightest as he watched his partner express the facial expression of a stubborn dog who didn't want to move an inch. Unless his owner was going to drag him along by the leash.

“You may be against it now, Chuuya. But when I tell you what kind of capabilities this child has, you'll change your mind.”

Dazai took another sip from his glass before setting it down with a soft clink against the glass coaster. His warm chocolate gaze filled with sorrow as he parted his lips to tell the story of a child that lost everything at once.

***

The child was only six when this took place. A meeting that was long overdue on a night when the air was bone chilling. It whispered desirable sins in the ears of two lovers that tore a bond that was at wit's end. There was only a matter of time that this would happen but the way it happened was something not fit for children. So it was only natural that they waited until their son was put to bed before they took action on leaving him behind.

Nothing was going to stop them from reaching what they both wanted most. The one thing in life that was irreversible that was both feared and wanted by man. It was something that their son wouldn't understand until long after they left.

“The only thing I hope for.. is that he won't hate us if he ever finds out.”

Her silky voice came out in a soft whisper. Sweet honey coated eyes staring back into that freshly cut emerald gaze of his. They were sharp and confident the way he reassured his wife with a gentle press of his lips to hers. The moonlight shone down on them like a spotlight. They danced against death for their whole lives. But tonight? Tonight they would dance toward it.

They had decided a while back; they’d do it here, near the river, under the bridge where it’s quiet, barren. It wasn’t too far from the house, but far enough so their child would be able to sleep through it. Doing it at their home would be too much, too troublesome.

Tonight was the last time they could breathe. The last time they would see each other. Their fate was sealed with the guns they both held in each other's hands. They intertwined arms with the barrels resting on their foreheads. With a silent exchange to one another, they released the trigger.

It was roughly 6:45 A.M. that the boy had woken up from his slumber. He was in a daze, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he rolled out of bed to search for his parents. Their bedroom being empty sent his heart into a panic. Where did they go? And without him? Frantically, he opened the front door to rush to the first place he thought of. The river. It was a favored area that Nikkō loved to spend his time skipping rocks.

There were even times when he would hide from his parents to play out here. It was an obvious spot to be found, but that didn't matter to him, he always wanted to be found easily. However, this time, Nikkō's parents were the ones easily found.

Two bodies, side by side and covered in red, tainting the usual clear blue gentleness which was the river. It no longer held the innocent and kind memories of his family. Instead, it haunted him as he stared wide eyed and unmoving like a statue.

He was snapped out of his blank state to the sound of an incomplete call made out to the caller ID labeled, ‘YASU’. The cell phone was found in his mother's hand. He broke down in uncontrollable sobbing. Nikkō was there, curled in between the decaying bodies of his parents. Crying hysterically with an erratic heartbeat that was visible to the naked eye. A man who possessed blond hair and kind eyes had shown up before to tame the child before police arrived.

It was decided from the note left behind that he would be put into the orphanage for the sake of not learning of his dark past. Out of fear that the child would possibly take things the wrong way or attempt to take his own life out of guilt. His parents did not want the chance of Nikkō ever finding out about losing his family. There was also the logical fear that someday, learning about his ability that he could use it to hurt everyone around him.

As long as he remained oblivious to his ability, he could live out a full life of happiness. If he remains in the orphanage, some loving family will pick him up and raise him to be a sweet child. There were too many risk factors to expose Nikkō to such sensitive information. All they could do was hope he would never have to go through the stress and strain that came with having an ability.

Including knowing about Yasu, he was left with no choice. His parents found it too risky that one day, the truth would slip out if they allowed Yasu to raise Nikkō. Their last request of their old friend was to take him to an orphanage. No further contact was allowed with him after he was dropped off. But Yasu loved Nikkō like his own. He kept his promise to take Nikkō to the orphanage, only to go against their wishes and keep in contact with the boy by exchanging gifts and letters with him as time passed.

The moment the orphanage learned about the child's ability to manipulate emotions upon physical contact, they had him separated from the rest of the children. He was considered a walking disaster that only wanted those to suffer with him. When in actuality, the child not only had no clue he possessed an ability, but he wished for someone to explain what he was feeling. He was confused and often became docile at the mention of any word similar to ‘family’.

He was often asked many questions referring to his past like what happened to his parents and if he knew why he was there at the orphanage. Nikkō couldn't answer with certainty, given that the disturbing image of two bloodied bodies seen at a tender age made his brain block out those memories. Something in him refused to let him access his past. Telling him to keep pushing forward and never look back.

Tags for notification: @suehiro @jounos-teashop-writing @aiya-chan03 @i-am-sleepy-as-heck @tapioka-boi @wildnya @chihxru @dazedbydazai @bandaged-writer @daffodildazaiwrites @orphic-osamu

[lover-of-skellies]

Door 4

You swallowed back your feelings of uncertainty, carefully approaching the door that had gained your attention. You knocked, then waited for a response, only to receive none. As bad as you felt for invading the riders' privacy like this, your curiosity propelled you forward anyway, and soon enough, you found your hand grasping the knob. Giving a gentle twist and nudging the door open just enough to peek inside, you called out, announcing your presence and asking for permission to come in. Once again though, there was none.

Your shoulders sank a bit in defeat and you furrowed your brows; you'd come all this way, your curiosity and determination to get to know each of the riders driving you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you silently contemplated your options for a moment, deciding against simply walking away. You were going to enter anyway, and you were going to look around. As long as you weren't digging through the dresser or rifling through papers, you'd be forgiven... right?

[You selected: Door 4]

Now entering: Retribution's room

~~~

Stepping further into the room and nudging the door shut behind yourself, you glanced around, squinting to see in the darkness. The curtains had been drawn, as if this room's occupant were attempting to avoid the light. Sighing, you flicked the light switch, expecting light to flood the room. Unexpectedly, however, there was none. You furrowed your brows, flicking the switch a couple more times, as if testing it.

Giving up after a moment, you rolled your eyes, simply pulling your phone out of your pocket and turning on the flashlight, shining the beam around the room. Very cautiously beginning to make your way across the space, the first thing that caught your attention was a fireplace, seemingly out of place and added in at the last moment. There was a large rug on the floor before it, a rather plush looking chair situated just close enough to use the light from the fire to read.

Which, by the few books that were left neatly stacked on a small table beside the chair, you assumed was something this room's occupant enjoyed doing. Slowly lifting the beam of light until it was pointed above the fireplace, you made a face; hanging on the wall above the fireplace was what looked like some sort of flag. It was a surprisingly pleasant shade of yellow, with streaks of gold and silver along the fabric. In the very center was a picture of the sun. Or at least, a symbol that was supposed to resemble the sun.

Once again panning your flashlight around the room, a desk nestled neatly in the corner beside a tall bookshelf had now gained your interest. Silently approaching it, you tilted your head as you took in the sight of countless papers, strewn across its surface carelessly. What looked to be a journal sat atop the numerous papers and you slowly reached out, tracing your fingertips over a strange symbol that was etched into its cover.

You were careful as you picked up the journal, opening it to a random page that read, "2nd of March - I'm weakened again, courtesy of this damned curse. I was so careful this time, paying close attention to the amount of magic I spent and how much I fed, though I suppose I didn't do a good enough job. Oh well. I'll have to try harder then." Flipping to another random page, you leaned down to get a better look at the entry, "14th of June - Still weak, just as I was before. I've had to resort to feeding more heavily off of the others. As expected, Death knows when I feed from him. Famine and Pestilence are beginning to notice, but War remains clueless. I fed from her again yesterday; she's been bottling up many conflicting feelings again. Her love of that disgusting idiot Pestilence, her insecurity and self doubt, her occasional anger flare ups, and her interlocked anxiety and depression. Of all the emotions I've fed from, her guilt and resentment are my favourite, I think."

You made a face again; ok, so this weirdo feeds off other people's feelings. Well then.

Out of curiosity, you flipped to yet another random page, silently reading, "18th of November - I'll have to let out some excess magic again soon. The corruption will overtake me if I don't. I'll expend a large amount on adding more to the orb, and then whatever magic I still need to burn off... maybe I'll ask for Famine's assistance. He seems happy enough to kiss me when I ask, so he shouldn't have any problems with it if I... no, nevermind. I can't do that. Not yet, at least."

You snorted, shaking your head before setting the journal down. Stepping over to the bookshelf and shining your flashlight at the items on its shelves, you hummed lowly. There were a handful of old looking books, as expected, but then there was a skull, surrounded by a few candles. Some feathers sat on another shelf, all of which were black. Assuming the collection of books consisted of occult and ritual stuff, you opted to bypass them, instead shifting your attention to the wardrobe where you could see a faint purple glow coming from one of the slightly open doors.

Immediately intrigued, you slowly approached the wardrobe, momentarily faltering as your chest began to feel tight. The atmosphere was very gradually beginning to feel heavier and heavier, and it began to give off the very distinct feeling of someone's gaze fixed on you. Worried that someone might've caught you checking out their room without permission, you glanced back over your shoulder, panning your flashlight around the room again. Seeing nothing, you let out a deep breath, refocusing your attention on the wardrobe.

Very carefully tugging one of the doors open, you blinked in surprise, finding what appeared to be an orb of some kind. It cast a purple glow over the inside of the wardrobe, tiny sparks of cyan appearing every so often, and it looked as though a cloud of darkness was swirling within it. Inside was a crown - mostly golden with a few small details here and there. A crescent moon shape was cut out of the front, and through the hole it left, all you could see was more inky darkness.

Despite the sudden rush of negative emotions that washed over you, you couldn't help but find the orb beautiful. Something in your gut told you to leave, but as if moving against your will, your hand lifted and began to reach for it.

Just as your fingertips were about to make contact, an arm slipped around you from behind, a bony hand firmly gripping your wrist to stop you. As your heart began to race, you heard him murmur, his tone very clearly less than pleased with you, "I wouldn't advise doing that. Not unless you have a death wish."

Eyes widening at his words, you spun to face him, fumbling for both an apology and explanation as to why you'd chosen to enter his room. Retribution was patient, although you could tell he was agitated, and he waited for you to finish speaking. His eye lights cast a soft cyan glow, allowing you to very vaguely see his expression; just as you thought, he was scowling at you, his sockets narrowed in distrust.

After you'd spat out what you felt was an adequate explanation and a sincere enough apology, you bowed your head in shame. The rider let out a deep sigh, stepping closer to you, and catching you by surprise, he reached out, his fingers catching your bottom jaw and tipping your head up so you were looking at him again. He moved even closer and your breath hitched as he grumbled directly into your ear, "I don't appreciate this intrusion, human. Not in the slightest. If it means that you'll keep your mouth shut, however, I will grant you permission to finish your exploration of my quarters. You may look, but if you touch anything, I can promise you - you'll regret it."

He backed up a bit to take in the clearly uncomfortable, anxious look you were now wearing. Tilting his head, his eye lights were focused completely on you as he hummed, "Do we have an understanding?" You wordlessly nodded, unsure what to say, and he gestured to the rest of his room, candles on his beside table suddenly illuminating on their own, "Go then. Finish exploring, and then get out of my sight."

Slipping out from between Retribution and the wardrobe, you switched off the flashlight on your phone and stuffed the device back into your pocket. Following the light from the candles, you found yourself at his bedside, looking up and admiring the canopy above it, dark, silky curtains tied back to each of the bed posts. The blankets laid flat and smooth, and appeared to be the same fabric as the curtains. There were several pillows lining the wall, neatly placed, as though Retribution had taken the time to make his bed after he woke up this morning.

At the foot end of the bed, a neat, almost painfully expensive looking set of pajamas were laying out - to be worn later, you assumed. You glanced up at Retribution, seeing that he'd moved closer and was now on the other side of the bed, watching you with an almost unnerving intensity. Trying your best to stay calm despite the threatening aura he was giving off, you took a deep breath, shifting your focus to his bedside table in an effort to distract yourself from how closely you were being watched.

The candles that had illuminated on their own (though likely with the help of his magic), were held in a fancy looking candelabra, and an open locket setting on the tabletop below it caught your attention. Leaning down and squinting to get a better look, you peered at the contents of the locket, which happened to be a photo of a girl with curly black hair. Her skin was almost as light as fresh snow, and she smiled brightly at whoever was taking the photo, her cheeks slightly flushed and her emerald green eyes almost seeming to sparkle. Noticeable dark circles resided under her eyes, and you frowned; something about her gave you the impression that she was exhausted, and likely didn't practice much self care.

A scar, starting from somewhere under her jaw, ran up over part of one of her cheeks, and there was a small purple flower tucked behind one of her ears, its shade almost matching that of her shirt. Curiosity bubbling in your chest at who she was, you looked to Retribution again, softly asking about her. Regarding you with narrowed sockets and a look of clear annoyance, he nearly hissed, "I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask me that."

Taking that as your cue to leave, you forced an awkward, apologetic smile, thanking the rider for allowing you to continue your exploration of his room before turning and heading for the door. Just mere seconds before you were able to reach for the doorknob, a chain looped itself around your slightly extended arm, and you yelped as you were jerked backward and spun to face Retribution again. His eye lights began to shift from cyan to violet as he stalked toward you, caging you against the still closed door. With his eye lights now a vibrant purple as he stared at you, you felt your chest tighten as his aura seemed to grow heavier, anxiety causing your heart to race.

You asked what was wrong, frowning as you watched a small droplet of some dark, tar-like substance roll down his face from both his mouth and nasal cavity. He seemed to be trembling ever so slightly, and more fear shot through you, causing your eyes to water up and a soft whimper to slip past your lips. As a tear rolled down your cheek, Retribution tilted his head, shaking as he reached out to wipe it away, his voice quivering as he mumbled lowly, "Promise you won't speak of what you've seen here."

Immediately understanding that he meant that as an order and not a question, you nodded, weakly sobbing as you agreed to keep the things you'd seen a secret. Seeming pleased with your compliance, he backed away, clasping his hands behind his back as he made a sound of approval and leered at you, a deranged grin slowly stretching across his face. Gesturing to the door behind you, he purred, "Good human. The door is right behind you. You may excuse yourself now."

Chest heaving as you struggled to breathe through the aura induced anxiety attack you were having, you spun around, practically throwing open the door before bolting out, not once looking back.

Going into his room was a mistake, it seemed, and you were filled with regret at having done so. You weren't curious about Retribution anymore. As far as you were concerned, he was terrifying, and you wanted no part in whatever was going on with him. A small part of you was worried for him, hoping that whatever was happening to him would pass. You'd never seen him like this before, and you prayed you'd never have to see it again. After all, once was more than enough.

[cassandras-blogg]

"Swallowing Courage" (Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka ) CHAPTER TWO - I PROMISE THIS CHAPTER GOT DELETED SO I'M JUST REPOSTING IT (: CHAPTER 3 coming soon. - A loud knock at the door was the first thing Danny heard when he woke up the next morning. He slowly shifted around in the bed and felt the weight of another body close to his back. "So it was just a dream??" Danny thought to himself. He looked over at Sam and his back was completely turned away from him. Sam's arms were close to his chest and his knees were closer to his stomach. Danny took this as, "Oh he didn't want his legs or arms to touch me the whole night, so it must have been just a dream." Danny sighed in relief. There was no way it could have actually happened, why would Sam ever offer to help Danny explore his sexuality? There is no way Sam would ever take a risk that could potentially ruin their lifelong friendship. There was another knock at Sam's door, when there was no answer again the door swung open. Josh was standing there in the doorway holding a tall cup of coffee. "Can I have some of that? Please?" Danny asked sitting up in Sam's bed. "Uh-hmm. What are you doing today? Just church or what?" Josh hummed, he passed his cup of coffee to Danny and climbed into the bed to sit down next to him. "Wait, it's Sunday?! How did I forget! What time is it?" Danny raised his voice and this finally woke Sam up. "It's 8:35 right now." Josh said reaching his hand out and taking back his cup of coffee. "Ugh, I have to go. Like right now." Danny had to quickly crawl over Sam's legs and Josh's body to get himself out of the bed. "Dude stop it!" Josh said slowly moving his arms up. "What??" Danny asked, once he looked back at him he could see a few drops of coffee running down Josh's arm. His quick movements almost made Josh spill the coffee on himself, but he caught it quickly before it could make a real mess. "Yeah, seriously. Calm down. Church doesn't start until like 10:00? Right?" Sam asked running his hands through his messy hair. "Yeah, but I have to be there at 9:00 every time to help set up!" Danny said grabbing his jean jacket and his boots he was wearing yesterday. Danny often played the drums in the worship band at his church on Wednesdays and Sundays, sometimes he would also sing when he needed to. He always went to church twice a week and was never late to any form of service. At Danny's church he is one of the top volunteers and is a highly respected student leader in his youth group. He has been very involved in church since his childhood, it has always been a huge part of his life. "My mom and dad are gonna kill me. I don't know if I'm gonna make it on time." Danny heavily sighed quickly lacing up his boots.

"OH SHIT! That's right. Speaking of mom and dad, we got to clean up this house before they get here." Josh set his cup of coffee down and jumped up to run downstairs to the living room. The Kiszka parents and Ronnie had gone to a relative's house last night because they wanted the boys to have the house to themselves for Danny's birthday. "You do realize how fast I can drive right? I can get you there in twenty minutes tops." Sam said standing and throwing on a hoodie. "Really you will??? Thank you Sam." Danny sighed in relief this time, he knew if he drove himself then he would just end up following all the rules and would never speed past the posted limit. Sam followed most of the rules of the road, but he would still speed around left and right if he saw there were no cops around. Danny and Sam jogged down the stairs and saw Jake taking down some of the decorations. Josh grabbed the empty bottles and handed them to Sam. "Here you, smash these bottles outside on the concrete. Then sweep it up and throw all the glass at the bottom of the trash. Jake will cover it up by throwing the decorations and other trash on top of it. The glass won't rip the trash bag, we double bagged it." Josh always was the one who came up with ideas on how to cover up the evidence so their parents wouldn't find out what they were up too. "Ah, I got to take Danny to church like right now." Sam said grabbing the keys to the car that the twins shared. "Hurry up then! Come back right after you are done.” Jake shot him a glare while continuing to pick up trash. "I promise!!" Sam shouted as he ran out of the door with Danny.

` About fifteen minutes later they had arrived. Sam dramatically swerved into the church parking lot and parked right up front where everyone could see them through the untinted car windows. "You didn't have to pull in all crazy like that." Danny said slowly taking off his seatbelt. "You wanted to be on time. Right?" Sam scoffed. "That is true." Danny smiled despite feeling slightly embarrassed because of the few old people frowning in their direction. The older people always showed up earlier and the younger people with families show up right on time. "Thank you for driving me over here, I really appreciate it. Do you want to ditch the twins and come to church with me?” Danny asked. "No problem, and you know what I say every time you invite me to church Daniel. No. Oh, and by the way, take it easy in there when you drum today. Last night I noticed you need to take better care of your hands' dude. You're going to ruin them before you have a shot at becoming a successful drummer." Sam said looking down at Danny's blistered hands that were sitting in his lap. He never ”took it easy” because he had no other coping mechanisms except drumming. "Oh." Danny said. He thought it was weird that Sam randomly started talking about his hands, especially since he had a dream last about them holding hands. Then suddenly Danny felt a tidal wave of anxiety fire through his brain, travel down his spine, and then into his lower body. Why would he start talking about his hands? Unless it really happened. "So, what do you want to try later?" Sam asked curiously. "What do you mean?" Danny asked calmly. "You know, like what do you want to do next? With me?” Sam asked, directly looking into Danny’s eyes. ”Oh wow.” Danny took a deep breath. INHALE. IGNORE EXHALE CONTINUE. His thoughts were shouting at him to calm down, but he still could not stop his body from panicking. Danny’s hand began to tremble. He could not believe this was happening to him. Danny was filled with instant regret, guilt, and shame. He wanted to run away and never look at Sam again. He wished he could take back holding Sam’s hand. At the same time, he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hold hands with a guy, with Sam for the first time. ”Can we talk about this after church?” Danny looked over at Sam, hoping that he would agree. He didn’t even want to go to church anymore, he merely wanted to be alone. ”What's wrong with you?” Sam asked. ”You’re shaking right now.” ”I’m just cold. And I don't feel good. At. All.” Danny said trying his best to stop shaking. He was thankful that it was December so he could use the weather as an excuse. ”Oh, It’s because you need a hoodie underneath that jean jacket. I got another one in the back, no worries.” Sam said unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. Sam remembered that he held Danny’s hand that night. He was not that drunk by that hour. Danny was absolutely panicking over it, but Sam appeared to be unfazed by what happened the night before. ”Want me to go to church with you?” Sam asked once he came back from the trunk with an extra hoodie. Danny could not believe his ears. He considered the thought maybe last night when he blew out the candles it had transported him into some parallel universe. Sam was not freaked out at all. Sam wanted to be there for Danny while he could see that he was clearly panicking and wasn't actually cold. He already had Danny figured out, Sam has been there for many panic attacks before this one, and he never left him alone during one. Sam was willing to sacrifice his morning and afternoon to make sure Danny was okay.

”You don’t have too. Jake and Josh will get mad at you later if you don’t go back home now.” Danny replied as he took off his jean jacket to put on Sam’s hoodie, then layered it by putting his own jacket back on as Sam told him to do. ”I want to.” Sam said.” Besides they will get over it if they get mad oh well.” ”Really, thank you.” Danny said looking at Sam with this newfound admiration. ”Of course, like I said yesterday, I would do anything for you.” Sam shrugged. ”Oh and if you want to after church we can hang out and talk about whatever you want.” Danny looked up stared at Sam for a long time. There was so much he wanted to say to him, but he did not know where to start. There were no words to describe how grateful he was to have Sam as his best friend. Danny wanted to give him Sam a really long hug, but he couldn't bring himself to actually do it.

”Okay that sounds good.” Danny smiled. He didn't hug him, but they finally got out of the car and walked into the church together.

-

After the service, they decided to walk down a trail behind Danny’s house. This was the usual spot where they went to rant or talk about people at school, their families, or whatever was going on in their life.

”So. When did you start liking guys?” Sam asked kicking a rock in front of him. There was a brief moment of silence. Danny was unsure how to answer the question. His mind had deeply suppressed the idea of liking guys a long time ago. In the past, whenever he began to feel a certain way about a guy, Danny would always tell himself that it was wrong to think that way.

”I don’t think I like guys. I just know I have these thoughts that I can't control. So I'm thinking maybe if I act on them, they might go away once I see how weird it is to actually ”get with” a guy in real life.” Danny answered. ”Oh. I don't think that’s how it works.” Sam said. He stopped kicking he rock and looked up at Danny. ”But if that’s you think then, okay. I'll still help you out, but what are you gonna do if you actually realize you like guys?” Danny did not want to consider the possibility that he was really gay or anything else besides straight. It was too much for him to handle. If he thought about it long enough, his brain might explode from the mind-blowing possibility that it could be true. ”I’m not gay.” Danny sighed. ”I just need a wake-up call, and you are gonna be it for me. I just need to do this, so I feel more sure of myself, so I can move on with my life. You can back out now if you want too. I know you already do a lot for me, so you don't have to help me do this too. I can find some other guy to make out with and then I can get it over with." Danny silently hoped that Sam was going to back out of it because maybe that would make things easier. If he kissed a guy that was a stranger it might be easier, because then he would not have to think about ruining a friendship.

At first, Sam just stared at Danny, then he looked over at a large rock off to the side of the trail. He walked off the trail and sat down on the rock. Sam leaned back a little and made himself comfortable. "Come here, Danny." "Why?" Danny gulped starting to feel the nerves coming back. "Just come here. I have something to tell you." Sam said. He hesitated, but he still slowly walked over to the rock to sit by Sam. "What is it?" Danny asked scooting closer to his friend. "Yesterday I wanted to tell you this, but I was pretty sure Josh and Jake were going to make fun of me and I didn't want to hear it. I also thought you might make fun of me for even giving you the ring, so I just didn't say anything extra to add on to it. Anyways, last night when I gave you that ring it was not just a symbol of our friendship, it was also a promise from me. It was a promise to be your best friend no matter what happens. I can say a whole list of things, but I promise to always be there. I promise to always hear you out. I promise to never judge you. I swear, I do."

Danny was truly speechless now. “Can I hug you?” He asked. Sam and Danny did not hug very often. They felt like there was no need to hug unless they took a break from seeing each other for a while. Sometimes when Danny had panic attacks then they would hug during or after it happened. ”Yeah.” Sam said, he moved as close as he could to Danny and put his arms around his neck. Danny slid his arms around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer to his chest, practically pulling him into his lap. He began to tighten his grip, digging his fingers into Sam’s rib cage. Danny took a deep breath and let out a sigh. Sam tried to pull away from him, but Danny held him there and didn’t let him move.

”Can we hug longer?” Danny asked when Sam tried to move away again. ”Yeah. If you stop crushing me.” Sam winced. Danny looked down and realized how much pressure he was using in this hug ”Oh I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Danny gasped starting to move away from Sam. ”It's okay. Come back.” Sam said grabbing Danny’s shirt and pulling him in closer to his face. Now they were nose to nose, making direct eye contact. Sam took a deep breath and he placed one hand on Danny’s face. Danny thought that maybe he should back up and move away, but that never happened. There was no way could blink or look away either, Sam had never been this close to his face before. Sam leaned in and Danny had no time to mentally prepare for what happened next. Sam gave him the most gentle kiss on one side of his cheek. He was positive that it was going to end there, but it didn’t. Sam leaned in more and put both his hands on Danny’s face, then he kissed the other side of his cheek. His lips moved up to the middle of Danny’s forehead then he kissed down the bridge of his nose. Sam paused once he reached Danny’s mouth. Tilting his head, he hovered over Danny’s lips, once he moved a little closer it made their lips lightly touch for a moment. Danny was tingling all over. ”Wait.” Danny said putting his hand on Sam’s chest. ”What?” Sam asked impatiently. ”Promise we will still be friends after this?” ”I promise.” Sam said quickly moving one hand to the back of Danny’s head. Once he moved his head forward, Sam finally got the chance to put his lips on Danny’s mouth. Sam let their closed lips stay pressed together for a moment, but not for too long. Then he grabbed Danny’s hair and tugged it just enough to make him gasp. Sam’s plan to deepen the kiss had worked, he pulled on his hair more, and now Danny’s jaw was slightly opened. That gave Sam the chance to lean forward and to slowly work his tongue into Danny’s mouth. Sam could tell that Danny was hesitant about this next move. Every time Danny would try to back up, Sam would pull him in closer. Eventually, Danny stopped trying to fight it, he put his hands on Sam’s back and started to move them up and down Sam’s spine. After he did this he could feel a shift and then more pressure on his lips. ”Mmm.” Sam lightly moaned into his mouth and started using more tongue. Danny’s hands were sending chills down his spine. Once Sam made that sound and Danny felt himself getting more heated by the second. Sam kept both of his hands underneath Danny’s hair so he could protect his head from hitting the rock when he rolled them over. Now they were laying on top of this uncomfortable rock kissing back and forth. Sam was on top of him with one knee on both sides of his waist, he tried his best to not to let their lips disconnect for more than a few seconds. Danny’s desire to keep kissing Sam only grew stronger, even though he could feel all of the uneven ridges of the rock digging into his back. Then suddenly Sam stopped kissing him. He abruptly pulled away and looked at Danny with a wide smile. “So. How was that kiss?” ”I uh, did not think it would feel like that. Better than I thought I guess? Also, that was way more than one kiss.” Danny said breathing heavily. ”Yeah and all those kisses are not for free.” Sam said sitting up and moving off of Danny’s body. Then he climbed off the rock and looked back up at Danny a smile. ”Oh okay, what do you want?” Danny asked. ”Let see. I. Want.” Sam began to cross his arms and look to the side. Danny waited in anticipation as Sam took his sweet time thinking about what he wanted.

”Weed, alcohol, my favorite snacks, and a few new records.” Sam requested. ”Oh okay.” Danny blushed. He thought that Sam was gonna say something sexual, but he wrong. ”Do you think you like guys now or what?” ”I don’t know, maybe you should come over later?” ”Danny!! Dude. You just can't get enough of me huh!?” Sam teased. ”Shut up Sam.” Danny said feeling the sudden urge to cover his face with his hands. ”But will you? Come over later?”

”You know I will.”

- END OF CHAPTER 2. There is gonna be a lot more writing coming up later, so be prepared.

[hasbbdoneanythingwrong]

How did you get *HIM* to be your brother?

How Quin and Gilgamesh became basically siblings.

It was a few days after the twins entered the Babylonia singularity. After a lot of whining from a certain caster, Romani went over to Quin.

"Um so... That annoying flower mage has been refusing to help unless we send you in." He said while sighing, not even wanting to be doing this. "I am sorry but... we really do need his help. I can try my best to talk to both King Gilgamesh and Merlin to make sure you aren't anywhere too dangerous but, you saw how they are..."

Quin just smiled up to Romani, hoping to calm his anxieties even just a little "I-its okay. We are all here to help, s-so it's no problem. Thank you for w-worrying about me."

"Really? Are you sure? Quin... you don't even have a servant and it has been a long time since you have had a combat encounter."

" I am sure M-mr. Merlin will just push off his work around Uruk to me." She then holds up one of her arms and flexes it. "If a-anything happens I will be okay, I can take care of myself. So d-don't worry Romani!" Quin's heart often hurts when Roman gets like this. The guilt he feels when sending out the twins and mash is almost palpable, though Quin might be the only one to notice it.

Sighing to himself he just nods "okay. If you say so. Go get ready to rayshift and... just be careful, okay?" Romani gives Quin a pat on her head. The two have always been pretty close, often talking about so many different topics and joking around. When they first met, Romani thought Quin was a cold girl much like other mages but in reality she was full of warmth with a heart full of love to give.

Quin nods back "I will try ny best. If I get into trouble it's due to my own faults then. Make sure you and DaVinci get some rest too."

"We will try."

~time skip~

Quin's thinking was right. Merlin did just push off all of his work onto her. Spending days on end healing soldiers and towns people, it was tiring but that was fine. Uruk was hot but it was bright and full of life. When she first came into Uruk she met the aid of King Gilgamesh, Siduri. The woman held herself with confidence and strength in her own way.

Being the way she is, after being done with the healing for the day Quin often wandered into the palace in order to help. Siduri often took Quin under her and they worked together organizing requests.

The first day Quin even saw King Gilgamesh in person was when Siduri got held up by some nobles and the notice she was set to deliver was time sensitive. Making a quick decision, Siduri asked Quin to hand off the tablet stack to the king in his office. Taking the order, Quin rushed off with the tablets towards the King's office.

Entering through the doors, she quickly noticed that she couldn't make too much noise. In front of her, King Gilgamesh sat as his desk with disheveled hair, large bags under his eyes, calloused fingers, and obviously asleep. These are all symptoms Quin knows very well as she has had them all frequently herself.

Stealthily she set down the tablets then hurried back out of the room. She quickly left a small note outside of the doors to warn anybody coming to see the king. In her rushing Quin ran back out to her room and her healing supplies, grabbing some supplies for her personal energy potion. Running off to the palace kitchen, she quick makes the potion into a drink for the king to partake in. After asking the cooks for some snacks for the king, she rushed off with the tray back to the king.

When she entered back into the room, She had found King Gilgamesh awake and Siduri standing in there too. Quin froze just after entering the room.

Glancing over to her Gilgamesh spoke "What is a chaldean doing in here?"

Before Quin could reply Siduri did that for her "She is the assistant for Merlin. After her healing work, she often sees if she can help. In order to not have the same trouble happening as with the other Chaldean, She works as my assistant too."

"And, what is that?" The King's gaze moved towards the tray with a skeptical gaze.

"I-its refreshments for the King!" Quickly thinking of what to say she just blurted out "The p-palace workers wanted to give th-the king something to show their appreciation. Since I-I was here I offered to deliver it, to let them c-contine their work."

Gilgamesh quickly looked at her and the room then smirked "Well, if they want to show their reverence then they should do it themselves. Do not think it is wise to lie to me, chaldean. If Siduri was not fond of your help, Your head would be lying on the floor as we speak."

Quin just blinked towards the king for a few seconds before saying "b-but it is not a lie. All I-I said was true. Th-there was just s-some information left out." Moving towards the desk, Quin set the tray down with a small bow before whispering "I-I am not good at lying your highness. Yet I j-just thought it well to leave out s-some... tricks of th-the eye." She then quickly moved away and looked towards Siduri "Is there a-anything else to help with?"

Before Siduri can respond Gilgamesh turns to her and says "Go get Merlin to do his job." Then turning to Quin "Chaldean, your mornings will be spent doing magecraft as before. After noon, you have work to complete under Siduri. Now leave me."

Nodding fast Quin rushed out of the room. Basically running towards her room in the brewery she only stopped once entering it. Collapsing on her cot in the corner she screamed into a pillow. She remembers reading the epic of Gilgamesh as a child, sneaking into her parent's to do so. The message of the story connected to her personally and now meeting that man... it was so surreal!

Ah it's getting late, so Quin quickly fell asleep getting ready for tomorrow.

~time skip~

It was a late night, the group of 3 were working into for hours on end. Eventually Siduri fell asleep. That just left King Gilgamesh and Quin awake.

Opening the gates of Babylon Gilgamesh pulled out two cups and a cask of beer. Placing one in front of Quin he begins himself. "Drink." The king ordered.

Gilgamesh did not even need to ask, as once the king took a sip Quin basically downed the entire cup. Being almost surprised by her drinking Gilgamesh refilled her cup "...Are you an alcoholic or something?"

Quin only shakes her head before downing the cup again "No, it just takes a lot for me to get drunk. In honestly my king, I could probably even drink you under the table."

"Oh? Shall we test that theory?"

She only chuckles an nods.

Once morning hit Siduri awoke and saw the carnage left over from last night. Casks of beer, bottles of wine, and so many other containers of alcohol littered the ground. In the middle of the room was both Gilgamesh and Quin snuggling together.

She just sighed and places the blanket she had on her over them, letting them both sleep a little longer as she ordered some servants to quietly clean up the room.

[orange-waterfalls]

Then Leave

Yancy x gender neutral!reader

@spycii ty for the prompt!

A/N: holy shit this took so long lol. I suck at writing angst unless it's with my own characters,,, this is so very bad I'm sorry,,, also Yancy has anger issues apparently. Rated T for some cursing. Angst(?) w/fluff at the end. I'm sorry I can't write straight angst it's too much for me.

Word Count: 2k

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Yancy was elated when you decided to stay with him. He'd been pretty interested in you since you showed up, and didn't want you going and breaking out. When you told him you were staying, he was happier than he had any right to be. Yes! He got to spend more time with yous! That's amazing!

The first few weeks were great. You two loved talking and hanging out. Yancy could sense the others were a bit jealous of you, but he really didn't care much. You were all he really needed. After about two months, he noticed you distancing yourself. You were keeping a space between you and him when you hung out, and not talking as much. Half a year had passed and you just stopped. You stopped talking, stopped actively hanging out with him, stopped acknowledging him. He was disappointed, to say the least. The other inmates started to be around him more, but he didn't pay any attention to them. He thought of different ways to get you back. He convinced one of the cooks to bake you a cake for your birthday. You seemed to appreciate the effort and started talking to him again. You talked to him about how you missed your family, and Yancy tried to convince you to not care about it.

"C'mon, yous has a new family! We're your family!" He consoled. "Yous needs to leave the past in the past." You smiled at him appreciatively. He loved it when you smiled. So when you stopped smiling altogether, he got worried. He told you about his worries, and you told him you were fine. He didn't believe you. To sell the fact that you were fine, you forced yourself to smile more often. He'd tell you a joke to make you feel better, and you'd smile at him. But he could tell it wasn't a real smile. It was a smile to make him feel better.

It didn't, really.

But he pretended like it did so you didn't have to worry.

You two would always meet out in the yard at the same time every day, but one day, you hadn't shown up. Yancy waited in you guys' spot for half an hour before thinking to look somewhere else. He started to go back inside when Bambam stopped him.

"Hi, Yancy!" He greeted happily. "How've you been?" Yancy smiled at him, slightly aggravated, not wanting to show it.

"Hey, Bambam. I've been alright," he answered. Bambam looked around.

"So, where's the new family member?" he asked. The fact that Bambam was stopping him from finding exactly who he was talking about angered Yancy. He knew you wouldn't want him to snap at his family, so he kept it to himself.

"That's what I was hoping to find out. They's been… upset lately…" he explained. Bambam frowned.

"Oh. What do you think the problem is?" He asked worried.

"I'm not sure…" Yancy sighed, "they's… talked about missing their family…" Bambam scratched his neck.

"You know, Yancy, they seemed pretty attached to their family… maybe it'd be better for them if they left…" he suggested. Yancy clenched his fists.

"No, it wouldn't. They like it here. They don't want to leave," he growled. Bambam stepped back at his violent tone, and Yancy walked past him and into the prison.

He wandered the halls, looking for you. You weren't in any of the places you two hung out. Finally, he checked your cell, where you've said you don't like going. You were there on the bed, curled up on your side in a fetal position. He sighed in relief and opened the door. You flinched as you heard the door creak. He walks into the cell quietly.

"There yous is! I was starting to get worried you'd taken parole." He joked. You didn't respond or even acknowledge he'd walked in. He stood there for a minute, not knowing what to do. Eventually he sighed.

"Ok, can yous just… tell me what's wrong? I've been worried about yous and… I'm not sure what to do about it… tell me?" You don't respond. "Please?" You sighed.

"I miss Mark." You said bluntly. Yancy stood there, not really knowing how to respond.

"Mark? Didn't he… you know… die? Or did he just… take parole? There's really nothing I can-"

"I miss Mark, I miss my friends, I miss my family…" you said, voice wavering. Yancy knits his eyebrows, not understanding what you want.

"So? I don't know what you want to-"

"I want to leave, Yancy." You finally turned to look at him and he saw your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He frowned at you.

"Leave? But… you decided to stay!" He started to get angry. "Why would you want to leave?!" You stood up.

"Because I miss the people in my life Yancy!" You raised your voice at him.

"Then why did you stay?! Why haven't you broken out or taken parole or… or…" he was cut off by you.

"Because I'm in love with you, you fucking moron!" You yelled. He steps back at your accusing tone. In love… with him? That made him happy, but the tears flowing from your eyes destroyed that feeling and replaced it with guilt. "You love it here. You love your family. And I love you and I want you to be happy. So I stayed." You explain. "I had a family! I had people who loved me and now they don't even visit me! I am not happy! I haven't been happy in awhile! I want to leave!" Yancy stopped thinking clearly and blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"Then leave! Just fucking go, then!" He said, his voice venomous. You stare at him and compose yourself.

"Maybe I will."

And you did.

You broke out of the prison after two days. All the inmates were happy that you'd be with your people again, but they saw something was different with Yancy. He was more distant. More angry. He snapped at them a lot and made rude comments. Tiny decided that she was going to confront him about it. He had no right to do this to them. She was gonna march into his cell and give him a piece of her mind. That's what she'd do.

She walked into his cell and…

He was there. On his bed. Sobbing into his hands. She could see the tears seeping through his fingers.

And all her plans were flung out the window.

She tiptoed over and gently sat next to him. He flinched before turning away, wiping his face.

"What do you want?" He asked, attempting to sound tough. He just sounded sad. Tiny put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her, looking at her hand weirdly. She sighed.

"What's the problem, Yancy?" She asked gently. He tried to glare at her, but his lip started quivering and he let out a sob, burying his face into his hands again. Tiny patted his back in an attempt to make him feel better.

"I miss them… I miss them so much…" he cried. Tiny frowned and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yancy..." She began. She was going to try to convince him to get over you. But before she could, he just went on rambling on and on about everything he loved and missed about you. Your skin, your eyes, your smile…

She could tell this wasn't going away anytime soon.

"Yancy…" She sighed. "You need to make parole." Yancy looked up at her.

"W-What?"

"You need to be good. You need to not be seen as a threat anymore. You need to leave."

"But-"

"You love them. There's nothing you can do about that, except be with them."

"Tiny… I've done-"

"Yeah, yeah, bad things. You killed people. Yancy, I'll be honest, none of us really care about that. You're the only one. We think you deserve to be happy, and if being with them is how that's gonna happen, then so be it," She explained. Yancy was about to argue, but he thought about your face when he told you to leave, and he closed his mouth.

"Ok…"

He turned into the perfect prisoner. He did everything he was told, he didn't speak out of line, he worked as a cook in the cafeteria, he got rid of his shank. He eventually made parole. That was great, but he wasn't exactly sure where to go from there. How was he supposed to find you? He was on his way out when he saw the guy you came in with. What was his name… Mark? You had mentioned that you were roommates, so he figured this was his best chance. Yancy walked up to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned towards him, startled.

"Uh… hi? Can I help you?" He asked.

"Where do you live?"

"Pardon?"

"Sorry… I'm Yancy. I want to find your friend and… I figure… you would know where they live… since you live together…" he explained awkwardly. Mark stared at him for a moment.

"Why do you want to find them?" He asked, suspicious. Yancy blushed a bit and scratched his neck. Mark rolled his eyes before taking a piece of paper and writing an address on it. He handed Yancy the piece of paper.

"Knock when you get there." He explained. "You don't look like a serial killer… this may be a bad idea but… I suppose I can trust Y/N to take care of themselves. Besides, this year's already been weird as hell... I'm sure it'll be fine." Yancy nodded and thanked him. He asked his parole officer to take him to the address. On the ride there, he bounced his leg, anxious for what you'd say. Would you forgive him? Would you still be mad? Would you hate him? He'd deserve it…

"Here." The officer said as they parked near a house. Yancy nodded and got out of the car, approaching the house. He stopped at the door and raised his fist to knock. He stopped, suddenly realizing that he'd rather not have you tell him he wasn't worth a visit every three weeks. He slowly lowered his arm to his side and sighed. He turned back towards the cop car and-

click

"Yancy?"

creak

Yancy spun back around to look at the door, where you were standing. You looked… better than in the prison. Less tired. Less sad.

"Hey! How's it going?" He asked nervously. You weren't smiling, you weren't asking a bunch of questions about him, you didn't seem very interested in him or what he was doing there. That made him nervous. He shifted in his spot. You both were silent for a moment. You crossed your arms and took a breath.

"I thought… I thought you liked prison, Yance." He smiled at the nickname.

"Oh, uh… I…" he swallowed, his throat dry. "I-I like yous a little more than I do prison…" you stared at him. He shuffled his feet. You sighed.

"Yancy…"

"Ok, look. I know I messed up. I know. But I want to make it right, and I want to be with yous." You raised an eyebrow.

"Be with me… as in…?"

"Dating. Yes." He said quickly. You tap your arm.

"Yancy… I don't…" you start. He can feel his heart shattering already. "You're the one who told me to leave the past in the past… that's what I was doing with the prison." You explained.

"Well… maybe… since I'm in yous' present… I can be part of your future!"

"What?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Yancy…" you started. He looked at you hopefully. You sighed. "I'll… think about it."

"Oh… right, sure…"

"You have a place to stay, right?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm good."

"Ok, good."

"Yeah… well…bye" he turned back towards the police car and started walking. You stood at the doorway, watching him. You bit your lip before taking a breath.

"Yancy!" You called. He spun back towards you. You grin slightly. "Let's get coffee sometime." His eyes widened.

"O-Okay! Sure!" He agreed. You closed your door. He got back into the police car, smiling widely.

"So…" the officer started. Yancy turned to him.

"Hm?"

"That was the most Hallmark thing I've ever seen…"

"Shut up…"

"Seriously! That looked so cliche!"

"SHUT. UP."

"I thought I was about to hear some romantic violin,"

"Please just drive…"

GOD this SUCKS I'm so sorry