#worst case scenario i just paint it and turn it into a wall decoration

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.2. TOO MANY COOKS

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . dark red by steve lacy

“and you’re sure you don’t want me to come in?” hajime’s eyes are pointed, narrowed on her as if he doesn’t believe her.

“if the fire department hasn’t come yet then we’ve avoided the worst case scenario,” she reassures him again with a smile. “thanks for keeping me company, haji. i’m pretty sure i would've lost it when i saw atsumu if you weren't there.”

his face twists in annoyance at the mention, “yeah.”

they’re standing outside her door as the conversation goes silent. no sounds reach her ears from behind the door either. “they are a little quiet–but maybe they’ve already cleaned up,” as soon as the words come out of her mouth they both laugh.

"i think it's more likely they all created some sort of chemical reaction and passed out but we'll give them the benefit of the doubt. call me if you need anything,” he gives her a nod before turning to make his way back to his dorm on campus. she watches him turn the corner before she unlocks the door with her keys, preparing herself for what awaits her.

as soon as she opens the door, her nose scrunches. the smell coming from what could only be the kitchen hits her instantly. she thinks it's savory first before it becomes overwhelmingly heavy and bitter as if someone had attempted to bake something but burned it to ashes. she slips off her shoes quickly, about to turn the corner when a bang against the wall makes her jump. a decoration around the wall shakes right next to her face and it catches her eyes before something hard hits the floor in front of her.

she accidentally screams, seeing oikawa’s body on the ground. there's a blindfold wrapped around his head and he doesn't move to take it off.

“oh my god.”

she almost thinks she's about to start crying as she kneels next to him. did he just die?

but then she sees the rapid fall and rise of her chest and lets out a shaky sigh. her hand reaches for her phone to call hajime but then stops. maybe she could call an ambulance? or maybe the fire department should come after all? then she hears a noise from the kitchen. she needs to check on kuroo and kenma first before calling anyone.

she tries her best to steadily rise to her feet again. pressing a hand against the wall to momentarily stabilize and prepare herself. she apologizes to oikawa quietly as she steps over his body, praying kenma and kuroo aren’t cooking blindfolded as well. she almost doubles over, imagining the kitchen being painted red and a knife somewhere on the floor.

she’s careful to look out for anyone else blindly running into the walls as she steps through the hallway, taking it slow and quietly towards the kitchen.

then she can hear kuroo.

“WHAT? I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO TRY SOMETHING DIFFERENT!”

he’s yelling so loud she cringes, stopping for a second. she thinks she can hear a second voice as well, but just barely. as if they're talking in an entirely different room.

the closer she gets, the more it sounds like someone nearby is trying to talk but it’s being muffled by something. she turns the corner and the bright lights of the kitchen contrast the shadowed hallway she just snuck through.

her shoulders momentarily relax, seeing that there’s nothing red in sight.

well, actually, scratch that.

the kitchen is dusted in white like someone arbitrarily threw flour and two boys are standing in her kitchen in matching red tracksuits.

they decided to cook in their gym clothes from high school? despite her best attempts, she's never been able to convince them to harbor even the slightest bit of sentimentality whatsoever. she liked wearing kenma's jacket when he let her, but she wasn't entirely sure it would survive the night.

her eyes are drawn back to the two figures as kuroo starts yelling again, most likely due to the headphones on his head. she can’t see kenma; his back is turned towards her but he’s waving his hands around and she can’t hear him if he is saying anything. from what she can gauge, he's not blindfolded or acting as if he's hard of hearing, though.

oh.

then she pieces it together.

she’s seen this trend on one of her many doomscrolls.

three people cooking, one person deaf, one mute, and one blind.

and they've lost their blind person.

and kuroo can’t hear but kenma can’t even talk anyway.

she almost wants to turn around and leave; pull out oikawa with her and maybe they can make it back to hajime's dorm and pretend they don't know what's going on her apartment. she thinks about going back just to take the poor blindfold off his face.

then something loud is ringing. she almost thinks it’s the smoke alarm finally kicking in but it’s just the oven going off.

kenma and kuroo don’t notice it over their attempt to communicate with each other. she decides kuroo gets the benefit of the doubt since he can’t hear anyway but either kenma or her need to do something.

she can see faint smoke start to curl out of the oven and if the smoke alarm's going to kick in soon she'll end up stealing kuroo's headphones just to keep her sanity. she yells for kenma but he doesn't hear her over kuroo and the oven alarm.

she starts to make her way towards them, careful to step as carefully as she can through the flour–and was that a broken egg on the floor? she tries to keep herself focused on the task at hand, not even thinking about the camera set up in front of their countertop.

she almost trips, not seeing a stray cord on the floor underneath everything else littered on the floor. kenma finally seems to hear her when she squeaks and turns around quickly, catching her in his arms before she falls. then his eyes are wide and he’s trying to say something but there’s duct tape on his mouth.

“the oven!” she shouts at him, not entirely sure if she's responding to whatever he's trying to say. but he won't take the hand off her wrist and she tries to push it off to get to the machine in question before she’s pulled back and spun around by arms around her waist.

“kenma what the hell?” she’s yelling at him.

he holds her face so that she’s looking at him and is shaking his head, pointing at the camera.

it was a sort of unspoken agreement, they both didn’t want her on his streams in order to keep a barrier between their personal lives and individual jobs. it was possible that things might get a little messy if it was revealed they were living together. the media would have a feast coming up with stories and scandals between then and the conservatives would accuse them of sacrilegious–the second part wasn't the worst-case scenario but it was more trouble than it was worth and they both decided it was just best for her to stay off camera.

kuroo finally looks up from a vegetable he's been trying his hardest to cut with a serrated butter knife and sees her. his face lightens up, "Y/N?–"

“NO!” she yells over him, trying to prevent the stream from picking up her name.

kenma removes an arm from around her to snap at him and get his attention before he points at the oven. he tried to speak through the tape, giving kuroo muffled directions as if they would ever reach him through his headphones.

kuroo nonetheless immediately nodded, giving him a thumbs up like he for once in the past several hours has finally understood something kenma has tried to tell him to do. 

but none of them are thinking straight anymore.

or maybe, actually, none of them ever were.

kuroo opens the oven and it doesn’t click that there’s hot air blowing in his face and that he’s reaching out into said hot hair with a bare hand.

"kuroo oh my god," she sobs, not even trying to hide it anymore. she covers her face with her hands and can't bring herself to yell anymore.

he grabs the dish and then immediately snatches his hand back, screaming out a string of curses while the pitch-black concoction in the baking dish falls off the rack to the bottom of the oven.

kenma’s grip has loosened on her in his own state of shock and the camera is the least of her concerns when someome just burned himself like an absolute idiot. she pulls forward to grab kuroo’s hand, looking at how much damage he did to it.

“you all are so fucking stupid,” she can only chide, barely keeping herself together. kuroo hisses as she turns over his hand, making sure he didn’t injure himself anywhere else.

she hears kenma from the other side of the counter, most likely shutting off the stream equipment and kuroo finally takes off the headphones.

he walks back around the counter and she looks up at him. he's ripped the duct tape off his mouth and is running a hand through his hair, trying to give her a small smile.

he looks exhausted and she feels more than exhausted, dealing with this after everything else today. but his smile makes her feel a bit better so she returns it.

“sorry–that was a lot,” he talks softly, and she thinks it’s just nice that she can finally understand what he’s saying. “i was just trying to keep you off camera but that's all kind of gone off the rails. i’ll help you clean up, promise. is there something you want me to do first?”

“check on oikawa please,” she sighs, standing up with kuroo, still holding onto his hand. “make sure he’s breathing and see if you can bring him here.”

she takes care of kuroo’s hand first, running cold water over it and scouring all of their bathroom cabinets for something to apply to the blisters on his hand. she grabs the first ointment she sees, dabbing it on and tries her best not to hurt kuroo before she wraps his hand tightly. then she directs him back to the kitchen, wiping down their seats and instructing him to sit down where she can see him.

kenma brings oikawa back into the kitchen, the blindfold loosened to hang around his neck and as soon as he sits back down he rests his head on his arms and passes out on the island again.

she’s already started to clean up as much as she can from their mess, starting with salvaging what ingredients she can and returning them back to where they belong when kenma comes up from behind her, rolling up his sleeves and tying back his hair.

“what do you want me to do now?” he asks, looking around the kitchen, gauging how much they’ll have to clean.

“can you sweep? i'll take care of the rest,” she replies, dumping a stack of dishes into the sink. there were miscellaneous tools out on the counter, like a potato masher she didn’t even know they owned or what they would have used it for, but she doesn't trust anything that's been in their hands today.

they work in silence, both kuroo and oikawa passed out at the island. kenma’s only a few feet from her, his back turned towards her before he begins to speak up, “sorry for everything again–and that you had to help. didn’t you have something important today?” he stops what he’s doing to look up to her, waiting for her answer.

“it’s okay,” she shakes her head, “honestly, now that the worst of it is over, it's kind of funny. and it’s distracting me from what i’m about to have to put up with for the next few months.”

his eyes brighten as he finally remembers what was announced today, “you got told told who your partner is for the olympics, right?” he’s holding onto the broom with both hands, face slightly resting on the handle of it, watching her as she washes dishes. the pile of flour near him has been completely forgotten about, but he’ll finish cleaning it up later.

“yeah, i don’t really want to talk about it right now though,” she shrugs, washing her hands before drying them off. she turns to face him, a smile on her face as she takes a few steps closer. “besides,” she leans forwards just a bit, brushing a stray bang that’s fallen out of his makeshift ponytail from his face, “i’m cleaning the kitchen with my roommate at midnight after he nearly killed himself and his two friends trying to make something, what more could i ask for?”

he suddenly feels warm under his zipped jacket and swallows the lump in his throat before looking away from her. his face is red and he plays with the zipper of his jacket, trying his best to casually cool off a little without making it obvious the effect she has on him.

he hears her laugh before she steps away back to the sink and he forces himself to go back to sweeping. he tries to focus on the moment in front him like she said; they’re cleaning their kitchen together at midnight. this is totally not a domestic moment that his friends would tease him about if they knew what they were doing right now.

but he can’t help but think the next few months are going to be drastically different for him after that stream. 

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

SORRY FOR THE DOUBLE TAG :( i just decided it was best to remake this post so that everything worked properly I HOPE I FIXED ALL THE TYPOS OR I'LL CRY

it's like i never learned from when i told myself i should stop writing this stuff at 2 in the morning

i fr only did dark red for this post's song bc you can just imagine "is something bad about to happen" as y/n opens her door 💀

y/n and iwa were sitting in a little board discussion room with her manager waiting to meet who her partner would be

iwa was allowed to come in because at this point some of y/n's management thinks he's actually part of the team so when he showed up with her they were like "yeah okay chill 👍"

then atsumu walked in and it took everything in her and a look from iwa to not fall to the floor screaming no

she's been partnered with atsumu before and he's always touchy and flirty so she doesn't like him a whole lot

manager reveal soon hmmmm i wonder who it could possible be as if i didn't put that in the notes of this smau

y/n and iwa were literally tweeting and replying to each other while they were out eating ramen and he looked up at her and just gave her a disappointed sigh when he saw her reply about "are u saying yes to my proposal"

suna and noya were watching the stream in the library after school but as soon as kenma was gifted 1k subs and they saw the message and oikawa was like "yeah this is a great idea we should totally do this 🌸" suna shut it off and was like "i'm going home before i watch a murder play out"

i'm ngl it was imagining oikawa suddenly hit the floor like he just died that made me laugh to myself in a cafe 😭😭 like it should not be that funny but it is to me i'm sorry

despite everyone having their own dorm they often crash at each other's for no reason

y/n stays over at suna and iwa's dorm the most

kuroo and oikawa both come over to kenma and y/n's apartment a lot

everyone tries not to step foot in tsukki and noya's dorm

kenma's stream was already going pretty well because of how absolutely insane it was but a girl suddenly appearing and then kenma trying to stop her from entering the frame only made it blow up more

as soon as kuroo woke back up he discussed with oikawa and kenma that IF they were ever to do this again who would wear what

kenma immediately said kuroo was getting his mouth taped shut which is very valid because he yelled a lot

but oikawa couldn't be blindfolded again and kuroo was like "wow okay so you wanna be the one who can't see"

kenma never said no faster

conclusion: they're never doing that challenge again

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[vodika-vibes]

Confessions

Summary: It's time for your first date with Keeli, but you're a little worried. After all, it's not every day that you confess to being a thief to someone.

Pairing: Captain Keeli x Reader

Word Count: 1715

Warnings: Thief!Fem!Reader, Heated make-out session, tooth-rotting fluff

Tagging: @trixie2023 @the-bad-batch-baroness

Divider by Saradika

When you first met Keeli last week, you hoped that it would lead to a proper date. Hence the whole stealing his comm and profiling him to make him want to spend time with you.

But a part of you didn’t actually think that he was going to ask you out on a date. You know yourself well enough to know that your lifestyle might cause problems for some people.

But the same night, he sent you a comm asking you out on a date.

And you almost, almost, told him about what you do for a living over the comms, but luckily you’re smarter than that, so instead you invited him to your house, in the hopes that you can talk before going on the date.

Best case scenario, he doesn’t care and you get to go on a date with a gorgeous man. Worst case scenario, you have to jump out a window and flee to a safehouse and leave the planet.

Luckily, you already have a safe house set up, and you made sure that there’s nothing in your apartment that might be used against you, if the worst should happen. At your boss’ insistence, of course.

You smooth your dress, and absently fiddle with the necklace you’re wearing, while you cast your gaze towards the chrono.

Keeli should be here soon. Hopefully. Unless he got lost.

You jump a little bit when you hear the doorbell ring. And then a delighted smile crosses your face and you hurry across your apartment to pull the door open.

Keeli stands on the other side of the door, a small grin playing on his handsome face, “Hey there, cyare.”

“Hey yourself,” You reply with a delighted smile, “Come on in.” You move out of the way to let him into your home, and close the door as soon as he’s inside.

He looks around your apartment, his gaze lingering on your furniture, and some of your decorations. “We still have a couple of hours before our reservation.” Keeli says absently, as he walks over to a painting.

“That’s totally fine,” You reply as you bounce over to his side, “It means we can just hang out until it’s time to go.”

He flashes a grin at you, and then glances back at the painting, “This is a very well done print.” He asks.

“Hm?”

“Oh, the original painting went missing about five years ago. Stolen right out of the museum.” Keeli says, “One of my brothers in my battalion is big into art, and ranted about the theft for several hours one day.”

“What did he say about the theft?” You ask, amusement in your voice.

“That the thief probably sold it for spice money,” Keeli replies dryly.

“Well that’s rude.” You say lightly, “I kept it to hang on the wall.”

“You…what?” Keeli turns to look at you, surprise on his face.

“Yeah. It wasn’t even that hard to take. Security was laughable. Honestly, I did the painting a favor by taking it.” You reply easily, “Or else someone else might have taken it.” You turn and head further into your apartment.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You’re an art thief?” Keeli asks, taking one more look at the painting, and then turning and following you into the living room.

“Former art thief. Former jewelry thief. I got better. I steal other things now.” You say nonchalantly.

Keeli stares at you, his jaw slack, “...I have…so many questions.”

Well, this is going better than you feared, “Go ahead.”

“One. What do you steal now?” Keeli asks.

“I’m part of a crew that targets rich, corrupt assholes who will never see the inside of a courtroom. We help their victims get some justice…and maybe a little revenge.” You explain as you sit on your couch.

“Follow up question, you do realize that theft is illegal, right?” Keeli asks.

You shoot him an amused look, “Yeah, Keel. I’m aware. I’m just not good at anything else, so-”

Keeli sits on the couch next to you, “So you just kept all of the stuff you stole?”

“I fenced some of it, and kept some of it.” You tilt your head to the side, “I have a very nice nest egg.”

“And yet you’re still stealing.” Keeli points out.

You shrug easily, “Sometimes the law can’t, or doesn’t, help the people who need it the most. Sometimes good men like yourself can’t help the people who need it the most. And it’s not your fault.” 

“Who’s fault is it?”

“The rich and powerful like to stay rich and powerful, Keeli. So they make laws that allow them to stay that way.”

“That’s not-”

“Palpatine.” You interrupt, very gently.

His mouth closes, “Were you investigating Palpatine?” Keeli asks, after a moment.

“We were discussing it. Have been discussing it for years now. Turns out we should have just done it.” You say with a slightly bitter smile, “I am sorry about that. If we acted rather than debating-”

“You’d probably be dead.” Keeli interjects dryly, “But…I suppose it’s nice to see that your group had a problem with the situation.”

You shrug again, “You’re handling this pretty well.” You finally offer hesitantly.

He considers you for a long moment, “I have a couple more questions,”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I like you, and I don’t like the idea of lying to you. Relationships are built on trust, and I want that trust.” You reply promptly.

His breath seems to catch in his throat, and then a soft laugh slips from his lips as he reaches out and lightly touches your cheek, “You could be taking a risk on me.” Keeli points out.

“I could be, yes.” You agree.

“As it happens, I want that trust too.” Keeli admits, and you beam at him. Something that puts a small smile on his lips, “Though, I suppose you’re incredibly rich.” He mutters under his breath.

You shoot him a puzzled look, “It’s just money, Keeli. Most of it just sits in a bank incase I need medical attention.”

“Right. Right, that’s sensible.” He says, “It’s just…I got you something, a present, for our first date. And now I’m thinking it’s not enough.”

You perk up, “You got me a present? Can I see it?”

He hesitates, “I can get you something else. Something better-”

“Please, Keeli?” You ask as you slide closer to him.

He falters, and averts his gaze for a moment. You don’t push him, and you’re rewarded for your patience with him pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket and handing it to you, “If you don’t like it-”

“I’m sure it’s great,” You interrupt gently, as you run your fingers over the cardboard box, “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, of course.”

You take the lid off the box, and your breath catches in your throat.

Laying in the box is a delicate looking necklace on a silver chain. A quick glance tells you that it’s real silver, but that’s not what caught your attention. No. Your gaze remains locked on the simple pendant hanging from the chain.

You pull the necklace from the box and set the pendant on the palm of your hand. It’s an intricate looking swirl, in white in red, made out of a material that you don’t recognize.

You run a delicate finger over the swirl, “I don’t recognize this material,” You admit to Keeli, without looking up from the necklace.

“It’s…uh…it’s plastoid. A piece from my armor. My old armor.” He reaches over and lightly taps the red paint, “My color.”

“Oh.” The word falls from your lips in a breathy whisper, and you curl your hand around the pendant and hold it tight against your chest, “Can I keep it? Please?” Your voice sounds thick with tears to your own ears.

He blinks at you, surprised at the tears in your voice, “Of course. It’s yours. I…” Keeli laughs sheepishly, “I spent my first paycheck on the chain for you, and I made the pendant myself. But I’m sure the necklace you’re wearing now is more-” He stops mid-sentence as you pull the necklace you’re wearing off, breaking the chain, and toss it to the side, “Cyare?”

“This is the most valuable item I own.” You say, “Help me put it on?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He takes the necklace back, and moves so he’s standing behind you. Keeli gently drapes the necklace around your neck, and fastens it, and then he rubs his thumb across the soft skin of the back of your neck, “There. How’s that?”

The pendant sits just below your collar bones, and you beam up at him, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Keeli stays close to you, his hand resting on the back of your neck. And then, slowly, his hand follows the chain of your necklace to lightly brush against the pendant you’re wearing.

“Keel-?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, sounding wistful. “I know we haven’t even been on our date yet, but…” Keeli trails off, “Can I kiss you, please?”

“Yes,” Your reply is immediate, and his reaction is just as immediate. He leans in and catches your lips with his own. The kiss is soft and slow and gentle, as if he wants to savor the moment.

Your hands come up to cup his face as he breaks the kiss, and then kisses you again and again. “I have an idea,” He murmurs as his lips hover over yours.

“Oh?”

“Mm,” He kisses you again, almost like he’s unable to keep his lips off of yours, “How about we skip our reservation? We order food, and I spend the rest of the night kissing you?”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” You reply with a breathy sigh. A sigh that morphs into a quiet moan when he lightly nips your lower lip. “I need,” You sigh again as his lips trail to your jaw, “Need to call my team and let them know I’m okay.”

“Want to meet them.” He murmurs against your jaw.

“Later.” You whisper.

“Definitely later.” Keeli agrees before he drags his lips back to yours, and catches yours in a passionate kiss, “My perfect, beautiful cyare.” he murmurs against your lips.

[v-cain]

"The Great Prank War of The BAU"

Pairings: Platonic! Penelope Garcia xm!reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

a/n: heyyyyy :D wasn't requested but it popped into my head and i thought it would be funny. btw, i dont think i need to warn you guys for anything but please lmk if im wrong ;))

-------

Penelope Garcia and Y/n L/n are total polar opposites, yet they couldn't be more alike. Garcia is someone who expresses herself through her colourful clothes, bright personality, pretty jewellery and cute decor, whereas Y/n is someone who expresses himself through his dark clothes, quiet personality, excessive jewellery and his (sometimes morbid) paintings.

Most outsiders would look at their appearances and think that they would never get along in a million years, but they would be sorely mistaken. You see, Y/n and Penelope (or Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, as Morgan puts it) are best friends, through and through. Which is why prank wars are so dangerous.

-------

Garcia looks at the forum chat she's in with Y/n and giggles mischievously. Morgan and Reid decided to team up on them and declare a prank war a few hours ago, which is the worst mistake they could have ever made. I mean, seriously, two FBI agents against a Forensic Scientist and a Technical Analyst? It's a no brainer!

Her attention is drawn back to the screen as Y/n sends more messages to her;

mr.br0wnst0n3r: we could mess with their badges? like put santa hats on them and stuff

p1nk13p13: N/n, that's a felony. I think.

mr.br0wnst0n3r: all the more reason to do it!

p1nk1ep1e: NO!!!!!!!!!

mr.br0wnst0n3r: IM JK IM JK

mr.br0wnst0n3r: i actually have an idea now, im omw to the batcave

Just as she reads the message, Y/n comes bursting through the door, panting heavily. "Holy guacamole, how fast did you run here? You're, like, three floors below me!" The taller doesn't respond, just leans against the wall trying to catch his breath. After a minute he manages to get out "I thought running faster would be more efficient..I was wrong." The duo giggle for a moment before Garcia asks what the plan he was talking about was.

Y/n grins before standing up straight, "Ok, so this would require a ton of effort and bribing-slash-seducing an electrician downstairs. Are you in?" The blonde barely wastes a second before responding with a wide grin "Always. Now, tell me the plan!"

-------

The plan was simple; Y/n was going to stand on a ladder pretending to be an electrician fixing the light above the entrance to the bullpen. He would have a tool box up there with him, except it would be filled with water-balloons. When either Morgan or Reid walked in- hopefully with the other already in the room- Y/n would turn the tool box upside down and the water-balloons would fall ontop of the poor, unsuspecting victim.

Penelope would be the one behind the scenes- she would have to assess whether the new electrician who's actually fixing the lights on floor 6 could be bribed into giving her his clothes, or seducing him into giving her his clothes. She wasn't very excited at the prospect of seducing a fifty-something year old man, but losing The Great Prank War of The BAU was something she couldn't face.

After she puts the clothes out for Y/n, Garcia will return to the bat-cave and man the security footage, waiting for one of the pair to go through the elevator doors. When they do, Penelope will message Y/n one message on her phone, letting him know that the next person to walk through the door is their intended target.

There were a few variables that the pair couldn't count on. A) One of the team realizes it's Y/n and points it out. (bad) B) Water-balloons hit someone who is neither Spencer nor Derek. (worse) C) The water-balloons miss Morgan/Reid entirely (worser) and D) The electrician files a sexual harassment claim (worst case scenario.) Y/n had faith in them, though, and this alone was enough to calm Penelope down from calling off the whole thing entirely.

Of course, to ensure Morgan and Reid didn't think they were up to something, they stole all their pens, "accidentally" broke the coffee machine 3 times in one week, jumpscared them by grabbing their legs from underneath their tables, ect ect. According to the voting stand JJ set up, they're currently tied with the amount of pranks successfully pulled against each other, with only 2 days left in the competition.

-------

Everything was set in place.

Y/n walked into the office at 6:30am this morning. He got changed into the electricians clothes- who was bribed with Krispy Kremes- and filled up his water-balloons in the bathroom. Garcia insisted that they stick some confetti inside too, to make it seem more like a "surprise" (as if water-balloon ambushes aren't surprising?), so there was some paper she found in a nearby shredder in there too.

At 7:15am, Y/n walked into the bullpen with a ladder under his left arm, and a toolbox in his right hand. His phone was in his left pocket, and all his notifications minus Penelopes contact were on silent. Garcia shoved some actual tool appliances into the sides of the toolbox, so it wouldn't look too suspicious. He had taken off his usual make-up and jewelry, shoved his hair under a blue golf cap and kept his head down- he figured this would be the easiest way to make himself unrecognizable.

And it worked.

The only people in the BAU at the time were himself, a few office workers, Emily Prentiss, Luke Alvez and Spencer Reid. Morgans ETA was 8:00am, but depending on whether he slept through his alarm or not Y/n could be on the ladder for and hour. It would be 100% worth it though.

Slowly, as time went by, the bullpen filled until only Morgan was missing. According to the watch on Y/n's hand, it was 8:02am, so he would be arriving any minute. The man could barely contain his excitement, twirling around a screwdriver when-

Bzzz-Bzzz.

Y/n opened the toolbox and adjusted it so that he could tip it over the second Morgan walks through the bullpen doors. He throws a quick, 'God, forgive me' and tips the the toolbox onto Morgan.

Everything is silent for a moment before Y/n starts laughing and takes off starts to get off the ladder. People start to recognize what just happened and start laughing along too, and not before long most are in hysterics.

When people start to calm down, Garcia rushes in a exclaims "We did it! We totally won!!" Y/n laughs and hugs his best friend, who is quick to hug him back. Morgan looks shocked at the both of them, "You?! You two did this?!" The pair erupt into laughter, and in-between laughs you can hear "He looks like a wet puppy!"

Morgan and Reid are, needless to say, very unhappy that they lost the The Great Prank War of The BAU, but aren't sore losers. Penelope and Y/n are definitely sore winners, though, and swear to hold this above their heads till the end of time.

[thebadboyfanclub]

One Way To Find Out (Carlisle Cullen x Reader)

This was requested by anon, sorry it took so long for me to write this but I hope I fulfilled your expectations. Enjoy!

Having Carlisle in her life felt almost natural, like it was just what was meant to happen, (y/n) felt comfortable and safe around her, it brought her some tranquility and serenity in her everyday life. She recalled how she had met him, running in the forest as a form of exercise, she preferred running at dusk, those peaceful hours that a few people get to experience since most of the population is still fast asleep, enjoying the warmth of their covers and letting their minds rest. Of course they were days that she was one of those people and just decided to sleep in and let the blankets hug her body for a few more hours. 

As she turned to look at something that had caught her eye, she seemed to miss the branch that was dangerously in front of her feet, before she could turn her gaze what was ahead, her legs got caught in the branch and forced her onto the ground, thankfully her reflexes had kicked in and she managed to break the fall with her hands, on the other hand she ended up scratching them and felt sharp pain to her knees and palms, she already could feel the material of her leggings being torn and probably the bleeding had already started.

“Miss, are you alright?”

She heard a male voice calling at her. Great, even running on the forest couldn’t save her from making a fool out of herself. What she did not know was that Carlisle was the reason she tripped, the thing that had caught her attention was his figure running past her as he was coming back from hunting. So when he saw her falling he couldn’t help but feel guilty, he could smell her blood from the cuts she had developed all because of him.

“Yes I’m fine thank you”

It was still quite dark, the sun had not fully set yet, so he was still able to walk around without fear of catching the sunlight on his skin. As he went to pull her up on her feet, she let out a small groan of discomfort and her face scrunched up.

“You are wounded, can you walk?”

“I think- nope”

As she went to put some pressure on her left leg her ankle gave up and made her stumble right on his arms. Carlisle caught her in a swift manner and got a gush of her scent, to him she smelt heavenly, her hair smelled like the best type of chamomile and a few dashes of citrus.

“I’m doctor Carlisle Cullen, I work at the hospital here, now I understand you won’t agree to coming to my house so let me take you to the hospital and patch you up, alright?”

“Okay that sounds fair”

-

“Young lady, if I didn’t know any better I would say you are anxious”

“Oh my gosh Sherlock Holmes, how did you figure that out? Of course I am”

Meeting his clan was nerve racking for her, it was his family and they knew each other for decades and now here she was, a human coming in his life so she felt the need to live up to their expectations. Especially Esme, she was the first one he turned and pretty much his right hand, everything about her had to be perfect for this first meeting.

“Oh come on darling it will be fine, worst case scenario they kill you but that hasn’t happened in a few years, Jasper promised to behave”

“I know you are joking but it doesn’t really help now, does it?”

Carlisle parked his car right outside and went to open her door, lending her his hand to help her get out of the vehicle. Before she could take a step towards the stairs Carlisle brought her closer to him, his torso touching hers and wrapping his one arm around her waist.

“Let’s take a deep breath now to relax..... that’s better, they will love you, I am 100% sure of it”

“Well, one way to find out”

They walked to the door together, as the gentleman that he was he let her walk in first and closed the door behind him. (Y/n) took in the minimalistic decoration, the walls were painted white and it had wooden accents of the furniture that gave this sophisticated vibe to the house, She saw all the glass windows that let in the gloomy light and gave the best view of the forest.

“The house is lovely”

“Esme is a great interior designer dear, come on they are probably at the kitchen”

“Kitchen?”

She questioned as she felt her coat slip off her shoulders. Carlisle took it in his arms and placed it neatly on the coat hanger, she was used to him doing those small little chivalry things, she enjoyed them a lot actually, she felt taken care of.

“Esme insisted in cooking a meal for you, come along now”

He guided her towards the kitchen are with his one hand on her waist, he was feeling confident about this, (y/n) was a wonderful person so there was nothing really to worry about. As soon as she could peek in the room, she felt eyes staring right at her, obviously they had heard- or smelled her she wasn’t quite sure- coming in.

Esme was behind the kitchen table that was made out of marble, hot pans around her and a big muscular guy next to her stirring up a pot. (Y/n) had recognized Esme immediately, Carlisle had spoken about her and she looked exactly what she imagined.

“Hello everyone”

Her voice had gone up a few octaves from the anxiety, she looked at each one of them in their eyes, trying to figure out who is who. Esme put down her knife and walked directly to (Y/n) and opened her arms for a hug, (y/n) felt bit more relaxed once she came in contact with Esme, she had this motherly vibe that made you feel welcome.

“Welcome home (Y/n), we’ve heard so much about you”

“Oh all good things I suppose”

“Of course, let me introduce you to the others. This is Emmett in the kitchen, Rosalie is setting up the table and Alice and Jasper on the fridge, actually now that we mentioned it, what kind of wine do you like?”

“I prefer Rose but anything will work, thank you”

They all had smiles on their faces as they looked at (Y/n). They were very happy when they heard about their mentor Carlisle finally having a partner besides Esme in his life, he had helped each one of them find their mate, it was his turn to be in that blissful state now.

“See I told them Rose would go great with the food but Alice was insisting on white wine”

“I thought it would bring out the taste of the chicken more for her. Hello (y/n), I am Alice it’s great to meet you”

“It’s great to meet you too, it’s really not a problem, whatever wine you have it’s okay for me”

“Oh now don’t be nervous, thankfully I convinced them to buy some rose just in case. So everything will be ready in a few minutes, Carlisle why don’t you take our lovely guest and show her around the house?”

“Great idea Esme, come on my sweet”

“Yes, ummm thank you guys”

She let out a breath of relief when she stepped away from the room. They were more welcoming than she expected, it was actually the best case scenario, still a tad bit of anxiety resonated in her mind.

 “See? There was nothing to worry about”

“They were very nice, I just... you know me, I am not great with first meetings”

“That’s what makes you charming dear, you almost peeled your skin off your fingers in there. Now come on, let me show you around”

[fandom-collective-writers]

Vampire in a Bottle (Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC

Prompt: cursed object

Warning: Smut!!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 7,251

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister​/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: I legit expected this to be 5 maybe 6 pages long. Was not expecting it to end up being 15 whole ass pages long.

       She’d heard stories about creatures tied to objects, bound to them my wizards or witches or priests. Everyone had. The djinni of the lamp, silkies and their skin, even myths of demons lending their bloodlust to legendary swords. 

       The vampire stuck in the wine bottle though, now that was a first.

       It had come as a surprise when MC had first stumbled upon the mansion on one of her hikes outside the city. She must’ve hiked the same path a hundred times and never had she caught so much as a glimpse of the sprawling estate, even if it was only a shell of its obvious former glory now. Had she taken a wrong path somewhere? Drifted away in her thoughts too much and unintentionally wandered away into the bushes? Looking back the way she’d come, she realized that no, she hadn’t veered in any way from her usual path, which made the sudden appearance of the mansion especially strange. 

       It was quite the complex, all graceful arches and columns, reds and whites. A massive fountain topped with a headless statue centered an overgrown path, and even from her vantage point still a ways away from the building, she could tell that what was once a manicured garden lay behind the mansion. It was like something out of a fairy tail; she wondered about it’s story, who lived here and what events had taken place within its walls. Now, the place was positively decrepit, still somewhat majestic, but old and creepy nonetheless.

       So, doing what any normal person would do, MC thought, ‘Very old and creepy,’ and turned back the way she’d come. There was no way in hell she was going to wander in like some airheaded protagonist out of a horror movie and get pestered or possessed or who knows what else. Nope. She was going to choose life today.

       It seemed her fears about the place being somewhat supernatural were true though, because a few minutes later, when she was sure she was about to step back onto a more familiar leg of the path, she emerged right on the same cliff overlooking the estate as before. The mansion sat there expectantly and she almost imagined it was saying, “Oh, you’re back.”

       Blinking, she stared for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head, soft mutters of “no, no, no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she turned away and rubbed her eyes. Her heart was beating a little faster now, sweat forming on the back of her neck. This was too strange. She’d hiked this path a hundred times and there had never, ever been a mansion here before. Furthermore, there was no way she was going around in circles. She knew the area and its trails well enough to have been able to find her way even if she did get lost.

       Pulling out her phone, MC tried and failed to find her location on the google maps, cursing as the words ‘No Signal’ replaced the usual friendly bars in the left-hand corner. Shoving the device back into her pocket, she sighed and stomped back down the path. This time she paid attention to familiar landmarks, carefully retracing her steps. For a second, she thought for sure she was in the clear, that she would come out on the path and walk away to forget this ever happened as some strange hallucination.

       Apparently that was not to be the case today though as, lo and behold, when she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, there she was again, the mansion laid out and waiting before her. She could practically feel it rolling its eyes at her this time. 

       Collapsing on the leaves and pine needles, she laughed breathlessly. No way was this happening. Why today of all days? Why couldn’t the universe just let her keep having her normal days without throwing in a mansion that appeared and disappeared like a ghost ship too? She felt like she was going crazy. 

       After a few minutes of deep breathing and burying her face in her knees, trying to rub the image of the mansion away, she rose to her feet. This place wanted her to...do something? Fine. She had a feeling it would just keep making her walk in circles until she came inside. Best case scenario it really was just an old mansion and she would find another way back to the trail after having searched the property. Worst case scenario? She was dragged to the underworld by whatever vengeful ghosts might inhabit the place. No problem, right?

       Her legs felt weak as she picked her way down the cliffside, slowly getting closer and closer to the hulking abode. The grass on the vast lawn was so overgrown she had a hard time making her way across it, nearly tripping a couple of times when it got caught around her calves and ankles. As she got closer, she started to realize just how massive the place really was. So similar to most of the castles and palaces and royal mansions she’d visited on trips, whoever had built this place and lived here had gone for extravagance, a show of wealth, but something about it was quiet in a way that made it seem like it was meant to be tucked away back here. It would have been beautiful if the situation were different and she wasn’t so freaked out.

       On the bright side, at least the weather wasn’t cloudy like these kinds of places usually were in books and movies, and she didn’t have the feeling anyone was watching her. It was a sunny day, the sky blue and dotted here and there with the occasional cloud. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless as she faced the beast.

       Taking a minute, MC just stood there in front of the mansion, staring up at broken windows and ivy covered columns and weeds poking up through the stones. “What do you want from me?” she grumbled to herself before shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

       Heavy iron rings hung on the wooden doors, their white paint peeled away to reveal the brown wood beneath. Her hand looked tiny in comparison to the ring as she grasped it, cold and dark against her skin, and pulled the door open. It grated against the floor as it opened, and she paused, tensed and waiting for something to jump out at her, for a swarm of bats or something. But nothing came and after a minute, she peered inside. Part of the roof had fallen in, allowing shafts of daylight to pierce the gloom and illuminate the grand receiving hall. Her shoes padded softly against the marble floor as she took a few steps inside, careful of the debris. A grand staircase of white stone led up to a second story and as she turned in a circle to fully take in the room MC saw more signs of wealth: giant paintings, moth-eaten tapestries, silver candlesticks nearly too tarnished to recognize. 

       A gentle breeze blew in from the open door behind her, stirring leaves across the floor and up the stairs. After another quick glance around, she crept up the staircase, brushing her fingers across the cold, stone banister as she did. Choosing to turn to her left once she was at the top of the stairs, she followed a long hallway in what she guessed was the west wing. More paintings and golden sconces decorated the walls, curtains made of dusty velvet framing smashed windows. The mansion had yet to make its next move, to give her any indication of what it wanted her to do, where it wanted her to go. It was hard to tell because everything was so old and nature had long since started reclaiming the place, but she thought she saw signs of a struggle, irregularly torn canvases and tables knocked over, their vintage contents spilled all over the floor.

       She startled, gasping, when a door at the end of the hall creaked open, a strong breeze whistling down the corridor and urging her along. MC could feel the mansion’s impatience pushing in at her from all sides, tugging at her hair and pushing at her back. Balling her fists, she gulped and creeped towards the indicated entryway, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever she might find. 

       Her breath stuck in her throat as she took a careful look inside, surprised at the luxury and opulence that met her gaze. The chamber was so large and gilded it had to be the master bedroom. The walls and ceiling were framed in gold, the ceiling painted with some scene that belonged in a cathedral. The canopied bed had long since succumbed to moths and the forces of nature, but the size of it could have rivaled any king size bed, and the rugs, once richly colored, still retained some of their ancient plushness as she stepped into the room. Reaching out, she ran her fingers along the carved edge of a table, tracing the intricate whorls and flowers. The same signs of a struggle were here too, a sharp gash taken out of the leg of the table and old books and shattered glass lying on the floor.

       A strong gust of wind blew in from the broken window, disturbing the heavy velvet curtains and knocking an old wine bottle off the small table in front of the broken pane. She winced as the bottle hit the floor, expecting it to shatter, but instead it bounced, rolling until it stopped against her foot.

       MC blinked and bent down to pick it up, noting the strange weight inside it. There wasn’t a label and she tipped it back and forth in her palm, weighing its contents. The red glass was too dark to see whatever was inside, but it didn’t feel like liquid sloshing around, that was for sure. Idly tapping a nail against the cool surface as she went to put it back on the table, she nearly screamed when something tapped back. 

       Letting go of the bottle and skittering back, she tripped over a chair, sending her falling on her ass. The bottle didn’t bounce this time, shattering instead with a sound like thunder that shook the mansion. A whirlwind filled the room, sending debris flying as it exploded outwards. Crouching and covering her head with her arms, MC waited, eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding, for whatever was happening to stop. It could’ve been seconds or minutes; she barely knew which as the gale settled, ending as quickly as it had begun. Uncovering her head, she peeked, shaking, around the room. Anything that had been in contact certainly wasn’t now, nothing but shafts of wood and scraps of fabric remaining. But the furniture held the least of her attention right now, not with the sudden appearance of the room’s other occupant.

       He was on his knees, heaving and gasping. She couldn’t see his face from her place behind the chair, only locks of yellow hair. His clothes - a long coat of burnished gold, brown trousers, and soft leather boots - were all embroidered in gold thread, rich and quietly vibrant. 

       She didn’t understand who he was or where he had come from. It refused to click in her mind that he had actually been stuck in that wine bottle, tapping back to her. People didn’t come from inside bottles. That kind of thing only happened in myths and fairy tales - things that were only stories.

       Rising to her feet on legs still shaky, she kept her gaze on the man as she slid a foot back, thinking to make a quiet exit, unnoticed. Of course, with so much debris scattered about the room, something like a quiet escape was absolutely impossible. Before the edge of her shoe had moved even a few inches, it disturbed a shard of wood with enough force to send it scittering a few inches over the stone floor, breaking the silence only broken by his heavy breathing.

       Piercing yellow eyes snapped to her and she gasped at the intensity within their depths, frozen, a deer in headlights. He turned, stumbling to his feet, eyes still locked with hers, and dear god, she believed in fairy tales looking at him. His face was unnaturally beautiful, something someone had dreamed up rather than someone born. It spoke of marble sculptures carved in his image, of candlelight on silk sheets, and there was a depth to his eyes, something she couldn’t fathom, something that marked him as...inhuman.

       MC hadn’t realized that her jaw had dropped and she swallowed, opening her mouth to say something and choking on air. Before she could manage her way through anything even vaguely coherent, he surged forward, barely a centimeter in front of her in the blink of an eye. Yelping, she tried to jump back, but his arms were already around her, dragging her against his chest. She struggled fruitlessly in his grip as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, lips and nose nuzzling against the soft skin as he breathed deep of her scent.

       “W-What are you-? S-Stop!” she demanded weakly, the panic rising in her chest choking her pleas. 

       “Smells so good,” the stranger breathed, his voice hoarse from disuse, and pulled back just enough that he could peer into her wide eyes. He looked absolutely wild now, ravenous and uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, but I need your help, mademoiselle.”

       The hand around her shoulders grabbed a handful of her hair, gently moving it away from her neck. Her fingers clawed into his lapels as she stared at him, fearful and confused, prey in the arms of a predator. His face lowered to her neck once again and she shivered as his breath fanned against her skin. What was he doing?

       “Try to relax, ma cherie.”

       The unexpected pain of two fangs sinking into her made her scream, bucking in his unyielding hold as he took long drawls of her blood. 

       It was physical pain as well as mental pain, the pain of confusion and everything she’d thought she’d known about the realistic world cracking. Pain. And then pleasure. Pleasure unlike any she had ever experienced before, setting her entire body alight and turning her mind white.

       And that was how she met him, Le Comte de Saint-Germain, a starving vampire trapped inside a wine bottle for 100 years.

       She’d woken later with her head in his lap, the ghost of his touch on her cheek stirring her. The ceiling spun above her and MC groaned, turning into him and covering her eyes with an arm.

       “Shh, you’re okay, ma cherie. It’ll pass soon.”

       Her eyes flew open, met with an abundance of gold and yellow, and she shot upwards, falling on her side as the world spun again. Hands reached to steady her out of the corner of her vision, but she flinched away from them, remembering the strange pain and pleasure his bite had brought. 

       “Stop!” she bit out, and he did, hovering a few feet away from her. “Who are you and what did you do to me?!”

       He blinked at her, seeming to think for a second before answering with a gentle smile, “I am Le Comte de Saint-Germain, and...moments ago I was starving for your blood.”

       “Starving for my-” She shook her head, still confused and afraid. “What?”

       “I’m not human, as you might have guessed.” His tone was polite, but warm, friendly as he spoke to her. “I’m a creature out of your myths and folklore, a vampire.”

       And her day officially couldn’t get any weirder!

       There, sitting on the cold, stone floor and shredded rugs, Le Comte had told her his story, that he was an immortal vampire trapped inside a wine bottle by another of his kind who he’d once considered a friend. He had been the one to build the mansion and live in it, assimilating into human high society and traveling between countries for centuries until the event of his capture.

       When MC had asked him about how the mansion had appeared and disappeared, he’d answered that it was part of the curse placed on him, that none should have been able to find and release him. Even he didn’t know how she had managed to stumble upon it.

       She believed him, choosing to trust the earnestness in his gaze when he’d apologized for biting her in a fit of starvation, but it was still a lot to take in, and they just sat there like that, blinking at each other, for a good minute or so. He seemed just as curious of her as she was of him, a little disoriented too, but she guessed that was to be expected after being trapped in a wine bottle for a hundred years. Finally, she said, “So what happens now? What are you going to do now that you’re free?” What was she going to do? She couldn’t just walk away from this place like it had never happened, right?

       He hummed, chuckling as he gazed around at the ruin of his home. “Rebuild, I suppose; catch up on what I’ve missed in the past hundred years.”

       MC blinked, biting her lip as she contemplated the impact of what she was about to say. An hour ago, all she had wanted to do was get away from this place, to forget it and never see it again, but now her heart felt strangely heavy at the thought. If she left this place behind now, she would regret it, she could feel it in her bones. Could she be blamed for wanting to live out whatever fairy tale this was, just for a little longer?

       “I…” Those yellow eyes met hers again, and her fate was sealed. “I might be able to help you with that.”

        Thus began her relationship with an immortal vampire, visiting him every day with new technology and books on the modern age for him to catch up with. More than once, he returned to the city with her, eager and capable of exploring for himself. He adjusted surprisingly easily to the new time period and all the technological advances that came with it, but she guessed that was part of being immortal, having to adapt quickly to the change of time. 

       She didn’t know what magic he possessed, but every day the mansion looked a little better, damaged furnishings either replaced or repaired, broken windows whole again, even the hole in the ceiling of the entry was miraculously fixed when she came one day. The lawn and garden still needed a great deal of attention, but those could definitely wait, especially since Le Comte was still weak after his long entrapment.

       “Le Comte?” MC called as she pushed the door open. The mansion welcomed her like an old friend now, warmth and the faint smell of sandalwood wrapping around her as she stepped into the entryway. She’d come to look forward to these daily meetings, noticeably out of it to her friends and colleagues when work or bad weather kept her from making the trip.

       “Here, ma cherie,” she heard him call from somewhere up the staircase. He could’ve been anywhere in this massive place and she still would have heard his call - another magical feature of the mansion and its connection with its owner. 

       It was weird. It had been months since she had found the mansion and Le Comte, but already she could barely remember what her life was like before. Her happiest moments were spent here, with him, her days filled with the smell of chamomile that she’d come to know as Le Comte’s, and easing the tension in her shoulders from the stress of modern life. 

       But it was more than that too, so much more. 

       She wasn’t dense. She knew what it meant for her heart to flutter the way it did at the mere thought of him. Truly, she’d had no intent of pursuing anything more than friendship when she started helping him. What more could there be between a human and a vampire? It had all seemed like a fairy tale, the beautiful mansion and the equally beautiful man in the bottle, waiting for her to find them, but this story would not end in romance, she was sure of it...or at least she had been. 

       She’d tried to reason with herself at first, that it was just the allure of something new and strange and magical in her ordinary life, that it was just the natural attraction of a vampiric predator to his human prey, but when had reason ever convinced a love-struck heart? He wasn’t going to hurt her, she was sure of that, and there were plenty of nice men in her normal life that she could have chosen from if she wanted a change of pace. No, she was in love with Le Comte and there was nothing she could do about it, no forwards or backwards, no place for her love to go, so it bloomed quietly in her chest, growing with each affectionate smile he sent her way. 

       MC found him hanging a painting in the hallway, a landscape she remembered him asking her opinion on last week when they went into town together. It made her cheeks warm a little, remembering his approving nod when she’d told him she liked it. The long, pale yellow coat he’d adopted lay across the back of a nearby chair, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up, exposing pale forearms. It shouldn’t have made her blush, but to her shame it did, the sight of her crush’s bared skin making her feel like some pervert, excited by the least bit of exposed skin.

       “What do you think?” Stepping away from the painting, he dusted his hands off and she did her best to keep her eyes away from the elegant flex of his fingers. 

       “Looks nice,” she answered simply, turning her gaze to the painting and anywhere other than him. She could feel him looking at her, and she wondered what he was thinking, what was going on inside his head. 

       He hummed, pleased. “I bought it with you in mind.”

       “W-Why?” She didn’t know what to say. Lately, it was like each word he said to her was intended to make her heart pound.

       “I thought there should be something of you here.”

       Her cheeks were as good as on fire now, and she resisted the urge to reach up and press her cool palms against the heated skin. “I-I see.” She kept her gaze glued to the painting, staring but not seeing the whorls and colors that made up the bodies of two lovers entwined and hidden within the painting, not daring to look at him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

       He didn’t respond, and the atmosphere suddenly felt too heavy, too many implications in his gaze, in buying this particular painting. Clearing her throat, she turned on her heel even as she spoke, “I’m going to go finish the cleaning I started in the kitchen yesterday.” MC cursed the way her voice swooped and dove, unwilling to settle on a tone and octave. 

       He chuckled and the sound warmed her to her bones. “Okay.”

       Her legs felt shaky as she made her way back down the steps and to the kitchen, blowing out a long breath as soon as she deemed herself far enough away from him. Mechanically, she pulled out the cutlery she’d been polishing the day before, her mind drifting as she did. Her heart felt shaky in her chest, fluttering and pounding and ready to run back up the stairs and throw itself into the hands of the vampire it belonged to. But she would do her best not to let it. 

       Falling in love with him was one thing. Starting a relationship with him was another. She couldn’t fully fathom what it would mean to be a vampire’s mate, what impact it would have on her human life, but she knew the cost would be immense. Besides, there was no telling if he even returned her feelings. He cared for her as any friend would - she knew that at least - and the affection he displayed was undeniable, but she refused to see it as anything more than platonic. Le Comte had already lived so much longer than her, and probably loved more than her too. Making assumptions would only lead to pain on both their parts.

       MC jumped, a noise of pain and surprise passing her lips, when her fingers slipped on the steak knife she’d been polishing, the sharp edge slicing the skin of her thumb. In seconds, a line of blood rose to the surface, gathering to drip down her skin in small drops. Hissing in pain, she turned to the sink, about to clean the wound, but she jumped when her attention caught on the sudden figure in the doorway. She hadn’t heard Le Comte approach, hadn’t even felt his presence, and how still he stood as he hovered in the doorway was immediately unsettling.

       “I wasn’t paying attention,” she tried to fill the silence, “I cut myself on one of the knives.”

       Still nothing from him, his gaze locked on her bleeding thumb.

       “Le Comte?”

       He seemed to startle out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, a shudder passing through him as he glanced up at her face before looking away entirely. His usual poise and grace was replaced by something hard, something sad. “You should leave,” he murmured, eyes shaded by his golden hair as he turned away from her, his movements stiff. 

       She blinked. “What? Why? I-”

       “Leave.” His voice was harder now, resonating with something that gripped her soul with icy claws. “Now.”

       So she did, helpless to disobey. Holding her bleeding hand, she ducked past him and hurried down the hall, through the door and down the path before her mind started to catch up. It hurt to be pushed away so cruelly by the one she loved, but she knew why he had done it, the memory of his fangs plunging into her neck months ago still a fresh reminder. He’d promised never to hurt her again, but he was still a vampire, surviving on blood. One slip up and...why didn’t the idea of him biting her bring her fear anymore?

       Her steps were small and slow as MC walked to the mansion the next day, tripping and stumbling more than once over roots and rocks she had always avoided easily before. She hadn’t slept well the night before, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, those golden eyes were there, inviting her closer. She had considered not even coming today, but she’d eventually decided otherwise after spending all day unable to focus and watching the sun near the horizon from her bedroom window. Something restless in her heart wouldn’t let her avoid him.

       “Comte?” she called, too softly, when she opened the door. The newly polished wood and iron gave way easily under her touch. No answer, but she knew he could sense her, just as the mansion could. 

       The mansion at night made her want to curl up in front of a fire, preferably in the arms of her loved one. The candles in their newly restored candleholders cast warm, golden light on the richly colored walls and paintings, and she tried to ignore the burst of heat in her chest as she passed the painting Le Comte had gotten for her. The lovers within the frame became especially apparent in the romantic light, hands and lips on naked flesh. 

       She continued to Le Comte’s bedroom, taking a deep breath as she lifted a fist to knock. Still no answer, and her brow furrowed, but just as she was about to grasp the knob she heard something shatter from inside the room. 

       “Comte?” A pained moan and her heart jumped into her throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m coming in!”

       The glass shards lying across the floor were the least of her worries as she barged in, her attention falling on the man bent on the rug. A sense of deja vu settled over her, but before she’d taken even a few steps towards him one of his hands shot up, stopping her in place.

       “Why’d you come?” he grunted, his voice choked and dry. He didn’t give her any time to answer, continuing, “You shouldn’t be here.”

       “I came because I was worried,” she admitted softly, soothingly. “Comte, are you starving again?”

       “No!” The harsh edge to his tone made her jump, but she held her ground, digging her nails into her palm as she took another couple of steps towards him. He turned on her from his place on the floor, baring long, sharp fangs in a snarl. “Don’t come any closer!” 

       Maybe she should have, but MC felt no fear as she knelt in front of him, warm palm meeting his cool cheek. He stared at her, eyes shining with astonishment and hunger, sadness and longing. “Why didn’t you tell me you were starving?” she questioned, giving him a heartbroken smile. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? Do you not trust me enough for this?”

       Heartbeats passed as he stared at her, and for a second she wondered if he had heard her through his ravenous haze, if he was already too far gone in his bloodlust. Finally, his lips parted and he whispered, “It’s not that.” He closed his eyes, drooping into her touch. “It’s not that.”

       Without a word, she reached up, undoing a couple of buttons on her blouse. His eyes still closed, Le Comte let her guide him to the crook of her neck, but as soon as the warmth of her skin pressed against his cheek, he jolted, tearing out of her hold and dragging himself back along the rug, away from her.

       “You know nothing!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what I want to do to you!”

       “Then tell me!” she pleaded, hands fisting in her skirt. “Let me help you!”

       “I want to bite you!” he cried, anguished that she didn’t understand even as his eyes glinted with a feral light. “I want to sink my fangs into you and fuck you until all of you is mine! Until you’re filled with me!”

       MC stared, frozen at his omission. Maybe she hadn’t known the extent of his hunger for her, what it fully entailed, but she would happily let him have everything he wanted of her depending on his answer to her next question.

       “Is it just because you’re starving?” she asked quietly. “Could anyone satisfy you right now?”

       His gaze locked with hers, weighing the question. He knew exactly what she was asking. “No,” he admitted, his voice hushed, and the tension in the room reached a climax. “Only you. I starve for your blood, your body, and yours alone.”

       “Then I don’t care,” she laughed breathlessly. Her heart felt like it was ready to beat out of her chest, and she couldn’t restrain her relieved smile as she met his wide-eyed expression. “Bite me...fuck me...and I’ll still love you.”

       A heartbeat later, she was lifted off the floor, weightless, and tossed onto the bed. She bounced on the mattress, sinking into the luscious pillows and blankets, before a solid weight settled over her. Grabbing her hands, Le Comte pinned them above her head, hot tongue leaving a wet trail against her neck. His hips settled between her legs, pinning her to the mattress as he teased the sensitive spot on the side of her throat with the tips of his fangs. 

       “Oh…” She writhed under him, skirt slipping up her thighs as she wrapped a leg around his waist. Her body still remembered how it felt to be bitten by him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat. “Please…!”

       “Abel,” he whispered in her ear, making her still for a moment. “I want you calling me by my real name as I claim you.” His fangs slipped so suddenly into her neck, she barely registered the pain before pleasure claimed her unprepared body, nerve endings set alight with sudden arousal. Her vision blurred and she might’ve screamed, but she didn’t know, too focused on the way his body was pressing into her suddenly oversensitive one as her blood flowed into his mouth. It was more powerful this time, whether made so by the sudden confession between them or his increased need for her, she didn’t know and didn’t care. All she could think of was the mournful emptiness in her core and the rush of release that ruined her panties as he continued to drink from her.

       When MC came to, she was naked, bare to him in the firelight. Her heart was pounding and her inner thighs were wet, slick with her cum. Le Comte...Abel...wasn’t on top of her anymore, his hands on her calves holding her legs apart as he knelt by her feet. She gasped silently, eyes widening, when she realized he was equally bare, every inch of him more gorgeous than she could have ever imagined as the firelight danced across his skin.

       “So beautiful,” he purred, kissing up the inside of her leg from her ankle to her thigh. “You were sent here just for me, weren’t you? Sent to free me, all for me to love.” She couldn’t answer, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her fingers into the sheets as he neared the apex of her thighs. “Mmm, you smell positively delectable, mon amour.”

       She yelped, fingers flying to his hair as his fangs burrowed into the soft skin of her thigh. It was more painful in a spot so vulnerable, but the pleasure after the pain was more intense too, making her writhe in his grip as another wave of release soaked her thighs. She mewled and panted as he took greedy gulps from her, laving his tongue lovingly across the bloodied skin when he’d had his fill. Her body shuddered with the aftershocks of a second orgasm, and she whimpered, too sensitive to his touch. Such rapture shouldn’t have been humanly possible, wasn’t humanly possible.

       “You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” Abel moaned, eyes half-lidded as he peered up at her from between her legs. His hands ran up and down her legs, bending them at the knees as he crawled closer, hot breath fanning against her wet pussy. He took her in so greedily, so hungrily, she had to resist the urge to close her legs around him, to hide away from the intensity of his gaze. Never had anyone looked at her like that before, starving for her. 

       MC gasped his name breathlessly when his tongue licked a stripe along her slit, and he groaned at the taste of her arousal. “Absolutely soaked,” he purred, licking his lips. “I don’t believe I even need to prepare you for me.” 

       She trembled as he licked her again, yelping and bucking her hips into his face when his mouth wrapped around her clit. His grip on her hips held her still as his tongue delved inside of her, chin shining with her wetness as he slurped and moaned. Though she had never admitted it, this was what she had wanted for so long, her love reciprocated to the utmost. And as much as she wanted him to continue, she was already oversensitive from the intensity of her previous two climaxes. She wouldn’t be able to take much more without it becoming painful soon and she wanted him inside of her, filling and stretching and claiming her.

       “A-Abel,” she managed to say, her vision blurred with pleasured tears. “T-Too much. Too sensitive.”

       That’s what she said, but she still nearly cried when his tongue left her, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut to keep herself from shoving his head back between her legs. His warmth fell over her as he moved on top of her, soft lips kissing the corners of her eyes and trailing over her cheeks. She mewled when his hardened cock brushed her throbbing core, unintentionally teasing her. Even just brushing against her, she could tell he was huge, bigger than any human male could ever be.

       “Are you okay?” he murmured softly, and she nodded.

       Opening her eyes, MC cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss him with as much love and need as she could muster. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, “Make me yours?”

       Even though she’d already confessed so much to him tonight, Abel still looked at her with such amazement in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she was actually real and here with him. Placing his hand over hers, he closed his eyes, smiling into her palm. “I don’t deserve to...but it would be my honor.” He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to; the weight of mutual love and adoration that filled the space between them and his overjoyed smile against her skin said enough.

       Without wasting another moment, he reached between them and gently guided himself into her, hazy, lust-focused golden eyes peering into hers as a shudder wracked their joined forms. Her nails dug into his back, core squeezing around the pulsing length burrowing inside of her.

       “Relax, mon amour,” he whispered, nuzzling the soft spot below her ear. Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, she tried to relax the clenching in her lower stomach, gradually adjusting to the stretch. 

       “Please,” she whined, planting kisses across his chin and jaw. “Move.”

       The world she knew fell away, nonexistent. All there was was him and her and this place, wrapped up with velvet and warm firelight as her vampire made love to her.

       His thrusts into her were slow and forceful, the pleasure it brought rolling over her in spine-tingling waves. Her back arched, head thrown back to expose her neck to his hungry lips, as he held her against him. 

       “Perfect,” he moaned against her skin, his breath raising goosebumps on her flesh. “Absolutely perfect.”

       Her toes curled as he lifted her hips, changing the angle and hitting spots deep inside of her that made her see stars. Her arms laced around him, vice-like as she held onto him desperately. Each powerful stroke into her teased the edge of her climax, igniting her nerves, and the feeling of his mouth closing around the nipple of one bouncing breast made her scream.

       She writhed, helplessly grinding her hips to meet his thrusts as he sucked the hardened bud, teasing it with his fangs. His other hand pinched and rolled its twin, his thrusts turning harder as he fucked her into the mattress. He let go of her breast with a wet pop, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake as he moved up her chest, nipping at her collarbone for good measure.

       “Does it feel good?” he purred in her ear, honeyed voice dripping with sin. “Do you like the way it feels, my fangs in your throat and my cock in your cunt?”

       “Yes!” she cried, desperate. She wanted so badly to cum again, to reach her climax for the third time tonight. It was already so, so close. “Please - anhg! - Don’t stop!”

       He chuckled, warm breath fanning against her skin. “I don’t intend to.” His cock slammed into the sensitive spot inside of her, his hand reaching between her legs to find her clit. “Not until your body knows me and me alone.”

       She could feel the coil deep in her stomach starting to tighten, signaling her impending climax. “Haa...A-Abel! I’m - I’m close! Ah...more! Feels...ha...so good! I need more!”

       Something changed in him at her words, whatever control he had recovered after drinking her blood vanishing. Grunting, he grabbed the backs of her knees and pushed them against her chest. “Cum around my cock,” he coaxed, face alight with feral desire. The expression was unfamiliar on his gentlemanly face, but it still shot a pulse of heat straight to her core, making her squeeze around him. “Make me cum inside of you.”

       MC screamed, coating him in her release as he rammed into her, the new position sending her over the edge and into her climax. She sobbed, fluttering around his piercing cock as the blunt head pummeled her cervix, the slight pain making her orgasm all the more ravaging. 

       He groaned, thrusts turning sloppy as her core milked him, and with another few deep thrusts inside of her, he came, growling into her neck as he pulsed. She trembled at the feeling of his cum filling her, hot and thick and pooling somewhere deep inside of her as her eyes closed and her body turned weightless.

       She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until her eyes fluttered open, finding herself tucked under the covers and cuddled against a warm, bare chest. 

       “You’re awake,” Le Comte’s voice rumbled against her cheek, and she tilted her head to peer up at him as his fingers carded soothingly through her hair. “Are you okay?”

       “Yeah.” She blushed, noting the soreness and lingering warmth between her thighs. “It was just...intense.” The corner of his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk, and she kept talking before he could tease her. “Do you not sleep?” she said softly, reaching to tuck her arms around him in turn. 

       “I do,” he chuckled with a raised brow, relaxing into her embrace. 

       “Then why don’t you?”

       “...I’m almost afraid to sleep,” he admitted wryly. “Maybe this...meeting you...has all been a dream and I’m still stuck in that bottle.”

       Her grip on him tightened, snuggling him closer. She hadn’t known he’d felt this way, scarred by his time trapped and alone, but of course he would. He felt and processed experiences just as she did. Leaning up, she kissed him softly, feeling his arms pull her closer. “I’m real,” she murmured, holding his gaze, those brilliant golden eyes she had originally fallen so deeply in love with. “This is real, and I love you. I still don’t know how I was able to find this place, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

       “What did I do for God to send you to me?” His breathing stuttered and he said on a shaky exhale, “I’ve done things, things that pervert the rules of nature, things that I never want to tell you. How can I possibly deserve you?”

       “Hmm, do you love me?” She smiled, her heart feeling full enough to burst from her chest.

       “Madly,” he answered, without missing a beat.

       “Then we’ll work our way up from there. Just know that I can’t remember ever being happier than I have been here with you these past months.” Leaning up for a last kiss, she felt him smile against her lips. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

       There was still much to discuss, a whole dynamic to work out between them, but it could wait until morning. For now, they could sleep in each other’s arms, blissfully in love and ready to face the challenges that would come with each tomorrow.

       They had all the time in the world, after all.

[spicycreativity]

Howl - Chapter 1

Rating: Teen

Fic Content Warnings: Blood, injury, suggestive content, alcohol use

Characters: All

Pairing: Analogical, background Moceit because apparently I can't help myself

Add'l Notes: dw if you don't know what a loup-garou is or how the lore works; all is explained in the story / Have I ever been to Louisiana? No 💕Did I write an entire story set in rural-ish Cajun Louisiana anyway because I hate myself? Yes 💕 / If you're from Louisiana and noticed any screw-ups, pls correct me so I can fix it

It also comes with a playlist! For ambience, not necessarily for the lyrics

Summary:

Two things happen to Virgil Landry on Halloween:

1) Logan Doucet, his longtime friend and slightly-less-longtime crush, asks him out

2) He becomes cursed to spend his nights as a half-man, half-wolf monster: a loup-garou

Despite his new affliction, Virgil strives for normalcy all the way up until he can't anymore and everything falls apart.

The floorboards creaked in their familiar pattern as Virgil paced over them, his feet sliding around awkwardly in his over-the-knee boots. He was supposed to meet Logan alone in an hour, an hour! His heart thumped painfully under his ribs. What did Logan want?

Virgil yanked his phone out of his pocket to re-read the message for the 85th time, ignoring a few new messages in his assorted group chats:

Logan: If it's not inconvenient, could you meet me early at the Plaza tonight? Maybe 6:30?

Virgil: yeah sure 

Virgil: everything OK?

Logan: Yes :-)

What did it mean? Was everything okay? Or was Logan just lying to make him feel better? Because if so, it wasn't working. Virgil ran his hands through his hair, careful not to smudge his makeup. It had taken him an hour and a half to perfect his vampire makeup in the mirror and he didn't want to risk messing it up.

With a sigh that turned into a groan, Virgil threw himself down on his couch. It made the walls rattle, nearly displacing a few trinkets on his crappy, rickety shelves. He heard a tell-tale scrape above his head and knew that his favorite painting had gone crooked again. God, this place was a wreck-- Just like Virgil. He made a mental note to ask Patton for help patching up the leaky roof. It was as good a time as any, as they were well out of rainy season, but it did seem a little rude. What was he even supposed to say? Hey, Patton, I know carpentry is literally what you do for a living, but could you help me for free since I'm broke and sad? Thanks, bud. Yeah, right. He sighed again and tugged at his medallion, a rusted old thing with a glass gem in the center. He had picked it up from a thrift store months earlier in anticipation of Halloween, but maybe he should have made some effort to restore it. It smelled strongly of rust and decay and felt terrible between his fingers, all oily and sticky.

So far, the only saving grace of the day was that it wasn't raining now. Virgil had spent his workday in silent anxiety, eyeing the storm clouds through the shop window and rubbing a small piece of sunstone between his thumb and forefinger. It seemed to have worked, as the clouds had dispersed a little and allowed the watery light of the autumn sun to peek through.

Virgil's phone lit up with a few more messages in his group chats: Roman having hysterics over some detail of his costume, Janus and Remus discussing how to avoid the small army of toddlers that always ran rampant at the Halloween parade. Virgil ignored them all. He was in no mood to be friendly, would probably snap at them. Logan hadn't said anything since his message to Virgil, which he had presumably sent on his lunch break. The question haunted Virgil, that great unknown lurking behind him and instilling a fear that no ghost ever could: What did Logan want?

Virgil set his phone down and leaned forward, heaving a sigh that turned into a yawn. Great. Whatever. That meant he was on the verge of hyperventilating, his breathing already irregular. Damn it, Logan knew better than to leave him hanging like this! They'd known each other for so long and he'd always been more perceptive to Virgil's needs than the others.

Especially lately… They'd been spending more time alone, and Virgil couldn't deny the sweet, warm giddiness that enveloped him every time they were alone together. First meetings were always his favorite, seeing Logan's face light up with a smile. He hadn't dared to think that Logan might feel the same way, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his fantasies on a leash. Worst-case scenarios and best-case scenarios dueled in his head: Logan kissing him, Logan telling him they couldn't be friends anymore, Logan confessing, Logan announcing that he had some incurable disease.

Virgil grabbed his phone and jumped to his feet. He couldn't do this anymore, couldn't sit here and torture himself. He would just leave now. He would rather arrive freakishly early than face another minute of this self-inflicted torment 

He double and triple checked he had his wallet and his plastic fangs, which he

was planning on putting on later. The medallion bounced against his exposed chest as he walked and he wondered briefly if it might be more trouble than it was worth. He could always swap it out for one of his pendants, maybe amethyst to calm his nerves. But it looked so good against his skin, falling perfectly in the deep V of his flowy white poet shirt. Unlike his other necklaces, it screamed vampire. And Janus would tease him if he caught Virgil wearing a subpar costume, and then Roman would join in, and Remus, and it would turn into a whole thing . He could wear the stupid medallion for one night.

 -

Virgil regretted this decision as soon as he got his moped going. Even at its 30 mph crawl, the heavy necklace bounced against his chest in a maddening rhythm. At least it was distracting. Every time he started to worry about Logan, the erratic tap-tap-tap of cold metal on his chest brought him back to Earth.

It was a long ride into town down a windy country road. He hugged the shoulder as best as he could despite the lack of traffic; Virgil's neighbors were few, but they all liked to take corners at frighteningly high speeds. The one person who did drive by honked at him and flashed their lights. Virgil's heart dropped and he nearly flipped them off before he realized that they liked his costume. It occurred to him then that he must look pretty absurd: A vampire riding a purple moped, cape fluttering on the wind.

Upon reaching the Plaza, Virgil did a few laps around downtown, smiling at the spiderwebs decorating Vaillant City Hall. Another lap revealed that empty parking spots were already becoming scarce, so Virgil pulled into one and checked his phone. Nothing from Logan. Just more hysterics from Roman, and Patton's best attempts at comfort. Virgil rolled his eyes. Maybe Roman did need some tough love. He scanned through the messages to orient himself, to make sure he didn't look dumb, and then typed out his reply.

Virgil: look, Prince Charming. 2 rolls of body glitter is more than enough. Stop freaking out

Roman: That's DOCTOR Prince Charming to you

Virgil: :*

He put his phone away, tucked his keys in his pocket, and forced himself to walk slowly toward the Plaza. He was still excruciatingly early, but maybe he could pop into a bar or grab a coffee or even swing by his work-- Oh.

There, standing by the reflecting pool with his hands in his pockets, was Logan. Virgil smiled despite his nerves and sped up. Leave it to Logan to somehow be earlier than early.

"Hey, Data," Virgil said once he was in earshot.

Logan's face lit up, and even the yellow contacts he was wearing couldn't mask the fondness in his face. "Evening, Virge," he said. His smile dropped too quickly and he kept his hands shoved in his pockets. Virgil surveyed all this with dread. Was he reading too much into it? Most definitely. Could he stop? No way.

"Everything okay?" Virgil asked, tugging at his medallion and turning his nervous gaze upon the placid waters of the reflecting pool. Great. Now he had two awesome reasons to be nervous. It was an old Vaillant legend that anyone who disturbed the waters of the pool would be cursed, and Virgil did not mess with curses. He usually took pains to avoid the Plaza, even if it meant he had to take the long way to work.

"Yes, Virgil," Logan said in a voice that was far too breathy. He cleared his throat. "As you know, we have been friends for a long time. I…" He paused, blinked. "I forgot what I was going to say."

"Jeeze, Lo," Virgil tried to tease. "You're making me nervous."

"But I--" Logan ran a hand through his hair. "Virgil. I had prepared something far more eloquent than what I am about to say, but I can't seem to remember it at the moment. Forgive me if this comes across as confusing."

"All good," Virgil said, making only a minimal effort to hide his confusion. The medallion was cold and oily under his fingertips, but he couldn't stop messing with it, tugging at it, rattling the chain. He needed some outlet for all this nervous energy.

"We've been spending more time alone together and I

thought-- I wanted--" Logan touched his face and Virgil realized a second later he had tried to push up his glasses, which he wasn't wearing. Oh, how cute. "Virgil, I would like to go steady with you."

A rush of vertigo smacked into Virgil with such force that he had to take a step back just to keep his balance. "Go steady?" he heard himself say. "Like-- Like, boyfriends?"

"If you are amenable to that," Logan said, furiously running his fingers over the piping on his uniform. "If not, I-- We can pretend this never--"

"Yes," Virgil interrupted. "Yes, yes, yes. Logan, I do want that."

"Oh," said Logan, his face breaking into a smile. "Good."

Virgil clenched his fist around the medallion wondering if it was too soon to ask for a kiss. He took a breath and felt something give with a quiet snap. The broken chain snaked along his neck, dragged down by the weight of the pendant. Virgil watched in silent agony as the necklace landed in the water of the reflecting pool with a quiet splash. "Shit."

"Allow me," said Logan, already in motion.

"No!" Virgil caught his hand and held it. "The curse." He realized what he had done and let go of Logan's hand.

"I don't believe in such things, Virgil, but if it's important to you, then I'll leave it."

"Thank you." Virgil stared down at the water and sighed through his nose. He'd already disturbed the water. Would it be better to leave the necklace or take it out? Littering seemed more disrespectful, he supposed. So he bent and grabbed the necklace before he could change his mind. "I'll, uh, de-curse-ify myself later."

Logan nodded, looking preoccupied. "Let me know if I can help. I might be able to repair the chain."

"Actually," said Virgil, stuffing the wet necklace into his pocket, "I was wondering if maybe, um…"

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please do."

Virgil closed his eyes so he wouldn't get weirded out by Logan's contacts. He had been expecting a short kiss, sweet and chaste, but Logan's hand tightened in the loose fabric of Virgil's poet shirt and his teeth grazed Virgil's bottom lip. Fuck propriety, then; the Plaza was still fairly empty. Virgil raised a hand to grab a fistful of Logan's hair and ran his tongue along the edge of Logan's lip.

They were interrupted by a wolf whistle and golf claps. "I'll be damned." Crap. Why did it have to be Janus? He was never going to let Virgil live this down.

Virgil pulled away so fast it made pain shoot through his neck. He exhaled sharply and covered the area with his hand for all the good it would do, turning to face Janus with a blush blooming on his cheeks. "What are you supposed to be?" he asked, looking Janus up and down. Janus had always been unnecessarily private about things that really didn't matter. He had evaded all of Virgil's attempts to guess his costume, and now presented wearing an old-fashioned suit including top hat, gloves, and cane.

"Don't change the subject," said Janus, dismissing Virgil with a wave.

In true vampire fashion, Virgil snarled and bared his teeth, then remembered something. "Oh, shit, my fangs!" He dug in his pocket for them, leaving Janus to do… whatever he was going to do.

"Logan, I presume?" Janus asked. Virgil stopped in the process of sticking on one tooth, heart hammering again. Janus and Logan had never met, and they could both be… a bit much in their own ways.

Logan nodded. "Logan Doucet." He held out his hand for a shake.

Janus took it. "Thank God you didn't bother to paint your face, else Virgil would have more than smudged lipstick to contend with. You've got some on your mouth, by the way."

"Thank you," Logan said stiffly. He withdrew his hand and used it to wipe away the lipstick stain on his face. "Nice to meet you, Professor Moriarty."

Virgil's eyes darted back to Janus, who smiled. "When I'm not acting as the Napoleon of Crime, you can call me Janus. Janus Bellefontaine."

"Where's Remus?" Virgil interjected, looking around. "Didn't he ride with you?"

"He got waylaid by some angry mothers because his costume made their kids cry," Janus said, nonchalantly running a

fingertip over the brim of his hat. "He'll be along." To Logan, he said, "Virgil tells me you're an accountant."

"Yes," said Logan. 

"And you haven't killed yourself yet, so I assume you must like it."

Virgil busied himself sticking his fangs onto his canines so he wouldn't worry about the conversation at hand. A sideways glance at Logan revealed that he seemed to find the comment amusing, thank God . "I've always been good with numbers. People, less so."

"Never would have guessed," Janus said, and Virgil didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling that crooked, tight-lipped smile that might have been genuine or might have been mocking. Asshole. "Well, if you have any rich clients, send them my way, won't you? I sell nice suits to dumb men with low self-esteem and too much money and I'm always on the lookout for another rube to swindle."

"If the suits are any good, I'd be happy to," Logan said.

Satisfied that his fangs were in properly, Virgil's attention shifted suddenly to the cold, wet medallion in his pocket. Right. He was cursed. Despite his interest in the occult and the supernatural, Virgil didn't have much experience with curses. His friends weren't really the type to play around with magic (well, maybe Janus, maybe- maybe Roman) and he wasn't the kind of guy who made enemies. No one had ever cursed him before. How soon would this one take effect? Should he go home and come back? Should he hop into the bayou, makeup be damned? Did bayous even count as running water?

He was so caught up in his panic spiral that the sudden sensation of hands on his shoulders made him jump. "Fuck!"

To his surprise it was Roman, not Remus, who laughed from somewhere behind him. "What, are Logan and Janus boring you?"

Virgil looked up and flinched again. While Roman looked relatively normal in his glittery Doctor Frank-n-Furter costume, Remus, who was lurking just behind his brother, was a horrorshow of fur and face paint and fake blood. "Um…" He shook himself and noticed Patton standing a ways off, peering at Remus. Distracted, he went to introduce Patton to Remus and Janus only to learn that he and Roman had run into Remus on their way over and rescued him from a brigade of shouty young mothers.

"He's Macavity," Patton said in a tone like he was pronouncing the death of the family goldfish.

"The other Napoleon of Crime," Janus agreed. "And you are?"

"Patton Haydel!"

A pause. "I gathered that. " Janus gestured at Patton's costume, which he had also kept a secret. Virgil had been staring at it as well, trying to figure it out. Patton was wearing what appeared to be a headless bear costume, round glasses, and what might have been a cowboy hat, though Virgil wasn't 100% sure. "What are you?"

"You have to guess!" Patton said, extending his arms and backing up so everyone could get a good look at him.

Virgil stared at him, running his tongue over the edges of his plastic fangs. "I got nothin'."

Logan took a sideways step and tapped Virgil's hand. Virgil nodded, and Logan interlaced their fingers as casually as he might clock in for work. "He's Teddy Bear Roosevelt."

They all groaned. "Good work, Pat," Virgil said begrudgingly.

"You have a big wet spot on your crotch," Remus pronounced, pointing at Virgil.

Janus raised his eyebrows, turning to Virgil with undisguised schadenfreude, but Logan stepped in before anyone could say anything. "It's water. He dropped his necklace in the reflecting pool."

"Well," said Patton, "that's not good."

"You dropped something in the reflecting pool and didn't immediately run for the nearest source of running water?" Janus asked. He looked from Virgil to Logan, then to their intertwined fingers and grinned. "Ah. More pressing matters at hand?"

"Maybe it's not too late," Roman said, drumming his acrylic nails against his thigh. "We can still dump him in the bayou."

"There's alligators in there!" Virgil said. "Fuck that. You know my house is plastered with wards. I'm sure I can make it through one evening."

"Your funeral," said Remus, leering. "Let me know if your dick falls

off.

 -

Despite his friends' concern, Virgil had a wonderful evening. Logan stuck close the whole night through, and they even snuck a few kisses here and there like infatuated teenagers. Each one sent a lightning thrill down Virgil's spine and made him want a dozen more. His friends noticed in turns and either teased or cooed, but each reaction was encouraging.

Logan kissed him goodbye at the end of the night and he practically floated back to his moped. He was so caught up in his daydreams that he only remembered the curse when he caught sight of the nazar hanging on his kitchen wall. Cursing under his breath, Virgil went to his bookshelf and began to compile a few methods of curse-breaking. Did a shower count as running water? God help him, he was not getting in the bayou. Maybe he could combine methods.

A few moments later, Virgil had everything set up in the bathroom. He lit the last candle, tightened the herb sachet around his neck, and stepped into the shower. Okay, time to focus. He was washing himself free of the curse and wouldn't it be nice if Logan were here? Logan didn't believe in magic and his clear-headed confidence would undoubtedly make Virgil feel better, too-- Focus! Wash away the curse. Logan would probably help him if he asked, helping Virgil set up the crystals and making sure his candles stayed lit-- Virgil! The curse! Wash away the curse.

The bathroom smelled of candles, incense, and herbs. Almost like Virgil's workplace, except that Virgil was using lavender and his boss preferred nag champa.

He stepped out of the shower and inhaled deeply, letting the mixture of scents relax him and draw him toward sleep.

[yan-twst]

Hello! You write scenario with vampire Vil, so... can I ask for vampire Rook this time?

rouge

warnings: mentions of death, blood, general yandere themes

word count: 2,588

a/n: the asker didn’t specify yandere here but, the vamp vil scenario they are talking about here was yan so uh, i’m making this a yan rook scenario.

----------

It’d been a while since any human dared walk into his home. It was akin to a mouse walking right into a trap, a bear stepping in a beartrap; surely by now all the villagers knew that those who entered a vampire’s lair were bound to never return. Killed, devoured, drained of their blood by the creatures who stalked the night- from time to time they’d find corpses, pale, cold and stiff, their blood drained to the last drop and expressions morphed into horrifying screams of terror for eternity.

And yet, he could see them as they nervously walked the darkened mansion with nothing but a candle on their hand, hot wax occasionally dripping into their hand and making them hiss in pain. He’d noticed them walk in; he could’ve leapt the second they stepped inside, he could’ve killed them at any moment, but he’d chosen to let them wander inside. Perhaps it was the sheer oddity of the situation, or maybe the hunter’s desire to observe his prey; whatever it was, Rook silently stalked the shaken human throughout his own mansion, watching as they cautiously looked around.

They were tired, clothes wet from the rain and dirtied with splotches of mud- they’d taken off their shoes, perhaps not wanting to leave footprints or dirty the carpets, but the rest of their clothes were soaked in rainwater. The heat from the measley candle they’d taken from a candleholder was clearly not nearly enough to warm them up- Rook rarely set up fireplaces, his undead body not needing the warmth mortals did- but now he wondered if they’d run towards one like a moth to a flame, in their current state. 

They were disheveled and exhausted, visibly scared- if he had to take a guess, he’d say they were a young villager who got lost and tried to find shelter in his adobe assuming it was abandoned due to its darkness and solitude. They very clearly had no clue they’d walked into the vampire’s den, judging by the fact that they were venturing in deeper; they had no weapons and no protection, they weren’t a vampire hunter or a soldier in any way, just a lost civilian who wandered into the worst place possible.

He watched for longer than he thought he would. There wasn’t anything interesting about this human, there shouldn’t have been, they were no different to the countless people he’d killed for sustenance before- they were prey and he was predator, easy as that, and yet he found himself almost fascinated. The way the moonlight filtering through the windows would illuminate them as they passed a window, their heavy breathing that combined with the chattering of their teeth as their body kept on growing colder and colder; there was something about them that kept Rook’s interest, far more than any other human had.

They were beautiful.

He’d lived a long life- he’d seen his fair share of lovers of all genders and backgrounds, met nobles and common folk alike who boasted appearances that went on to be legend- Rook had always chased for beauty, always seeking that ethereal concept; he’d turned more than one human into a vampire just because he believed their beauty had to be preserved, he’d collect decorations and paintings for his home to surround himself in art. And despite his current subject of interest clearly being a frightened commoner, dirty and shivering, he could sense it- by their quiet footfalls, their hushed breathing, the panic in their eyes, they were beautiful. How had such a human been living in proximity to his mansion without him realizing? He’d hate to think of the possibility that, had they not gotten lost today, he could have never met them and they’d have simply kept living their life until their time came to join their fellow humans in death; he was perhaps lucky fate had other plans for them, as they’d waltzed right into his grasp.

“Good evening, lapin.” Stepping out of the shadows, Rook finally spoke up- the terrified squeal that left the poor human echoed in the hall, almost dropping their candle in fright. They’d probably assumed the house was empty, and to suddenly come face to face with someone in the dark had almost been enough to frighten them to death. 

“A-aah, oh dear lord, are you the owner of this house...? I truly- I didn’t mean to intrude, I just- I went out to forage for some food for my family, but then it began to rain and night fell, and I couldn’t find my way back, and-” their panicked ramblings made Rook chuckle, as he waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss their justifications.

“Oh, no need to worry, I understand your plight. The forest can be so tricky once night falls, non?” he said, and he watched as relief melted into the human’s face, as they perhaps thought they’d managed to find an eccentric but kind nobleman’s home. “Besides, it’s dangerous for a weak thing like you to be out there at these times- the beasts that lurk the night would certainly make a feast out of you.”

“... Y-yes, I guess so.” they seemed shaken by his comment, perhaps their mind wandering to wolves or bears, or perhaps by the even grimmer image of their fellow villagers being found dead with two fang wounds in their neck, attacked by creatures of the night. It seemed to be the later case, as Rook instinctively licked his lips as he watched them bring a hand to their neck, perhaps remembering the images of carnage they’d seen on corpses left behind. “The village priest says it’s dangerous to walk around at night because of the vampires... He told me to wear my rosary and to carry holy water with me, just in case, but- lord, have you seen the state of the victims? I don’t think anything could protect the poor people who run into those beasts.”

Oh, it was so ironic- perhaps like the tragic comedies that sometimes ran in theatres in larger towns that he so adored. Watching the human talk about how scary and rough vampires were, thanking him for saving them, completely unaware he was biding his time until he’d sink his fangs into their flesh. He wouldn’t kill them yet, no, not yet; he had to consider if they should join his immortal ranks- after all, his sudden attraction to them had to mean they had the potential to shine bright. Perhaps he could turn them and keep them as a companion; bring them over to Vil so he could fix them up, or-

“... my betrothed was insistent I didn’t go out tonight, but there was no food left and nobody’s getting paid until next week, so I simply had to go see if there were any eggs or berries in the forest...” Rook’s eyes snapped open at the human’s words- a betrothed. It shouldn’t have been weird, not at all. Humans live so shortly, they marry fast and try to form families before their time runs out; in a small village, someone as beautiful as this human would certainly already be preparing to marry.

It made sense, and yet he felt a wave of jealousy permeate through him. For a vampire, Rook had never been one to particularly demean humans- he’d kill them, sure, but he wouldn’t go as far as to terrorize them for fun, or act as some other vampires did and consider them worms beneath him, inferior to immortals. But the flash of rage that coursed through him was undeniable. Usually he was content to hold beautiful things at arm’s length, to gaze at them, to keep around; he’d never been bothered if an ex-lover moved on, not if any of the humans he turned found other vampire lovers of their own. And yet this human, who he didn’t even know the name of, who he’d just met, was somehow bringing forth emotions foreign to him.

“Oh? Lapin, are you to marry soon?” he asked, trying to keep himself sounding friendly. The question seemed to make them cheer up a bit- despite the fact they were clearly shivering, too shy to ask if he could perhaps direct them to a fireplace.

“Ah, yes! I got engaged some weeks ago to someone close to me...” they blushed as they spoke, and despite the fact their face was adorable like that, the fact that someone else was causing it brought an acrid taste to Rook’s mouth. “... we’re going to get married next month, in the local church, and-”

“... Well, what a careless lover you have, then. Don’t they know that if they let their precious roam lose, they might be stolen by someone else?” Rook chuckled, a bit more darkly than usual. His words made them stop in their talking, as if confused. He went on. “If a rabbit runs lose on the forest, nobody should be surprised when the crow snatches it for itself.”

“... That’s, um-” the fear was back in their face now, eyes panickedly looking around; good. He much preferred that look on them, rather than the lovesick expression when talking about their betrothed. Perhaps this was bloodlust; maybe it’d been too long since he’d drank- it made no sense for him to find himself infatuated with a human like this, and yet the sight of their neck and their terrified gaze made him feel more alive than he’d ever been.

Without much of a thought, he pinned them to the wall- their scream was piercing. Perhaps they thought he was a creep, or maybe they’d finally connected the dots about his pale skin and the empty manor and realized he was a vampire; whatever it was, they didn’t vocalize it, instead choosing to scream for help. Even their scared screams were melodious, somehow; he didn’t know if he could truly blame hunger for the way he rejoiced in their squirming and crying.

“Now, now, lapin, you can’t blame me for this. If you’d kept on walking past my humble abode, I wouldn’t have seen you- I didn’t plan on hunting tonight. But what can one do when the prey saunters right into one’s grasp, hm?” he said breath ghosting over the juncture of their neck and shoulder. They struggled; but the coldness had numbed their body, hours of walking leaving them weak. Even at their peak, no human could overpower a vampire easily, not one as strong as Rook. “I’m afraid you can’t get away with no consequences just because you’re beautiful, lapin.”

Their blood was delicious. It had been too long since he’d gotten to indulge like this- to pin his prey down, to drink their blood leisurely without having to think about being caught, from the comfort of his own home. It’d been too long since he’d found prey he enjoyed so much- usually the human’s panicked cries and sobbing and begging were nothing but background noise, and yet, for once, he found himself spurred to bite down again and again by the helpless whimpering of his victim. His blond hair tickled their neck, the elegant fabric of his attire becoming damp upon coming into contact with their rain soaked clothes, but he paid it little mind.

“S-stop, please...! I don’t- please, no, don’t... kill me...!” they were hiccuping as they cried, feebly trying to fight back- by now, the natural numbing of his saliva had to have taken away the pain, but nothing could soothe their fear. Rook had never been bitten, having been born a vampire; but he’d been told the bite hurt, and then it went numb, only to then become pleasurable. If his little human was feeling any pleasure from the bite, they didn’t show it- their whines and cries could have very well been born from sheer fear or from an unknown pleasure.

“Ah, mon lapin, your words tempt me so,” he lifted his mouth, lips stained red with warm blood. Usually, villagers around him were malnourished or sickly- but this particular human’s blood was rich, comparable to the best he’d had. Rook never had qualms on turning a human; the value of human life, the importance of mortality, the essence of being human, those were things he cared little for; but he didn’t want to stop drinking this blood. And yet, the thought of them laying dead in the ground didn’t please him either; there was no proper way to preserve a corpse, not without the aid of magic he didn’t currently have in hand- and despite the nights being cold, the days were becoming increasingly hot; if he killed them, their beauty would fade so fast... “Say, lapin... Do you truly wish to live?”

Teary eyes stared right into green eyes with slit pupils. He could see himself in the reflection of their eyes- pale skin, red coating his mouth and chin, piercing green eyes almost glowing in the dark, his blond hair framing his face. They were shaking, only held up by his hands that pinned them to the wall- at his question they sobbed and nodded, begging, please spare them, their family needs them, please-

Before they could mention their betrothed and sour his mood again, Rook quickly bit down on his own tongue. His fangs drew blood easily- it tasted coppery and rather gross, but he wasn’t that unused to the taste of his own blood. Vampire blood was not tasty, at least not to other vampires, and it didn’t serve to quench their thirst; he almost lamented covering up the taste of the divine blood he’d just ingested with his own lackluster blood, but there was at least an use for his immortal blood.

When he lowered his head again to go at the wounds he’d created, the human writhed under him, probably assuming he’d changed his mind and decided to kill them. Rook hummed pleasantly as the taste of their blood coated his wounded tongue- and at the same time his own blood coated their injuries. He licked at the two puncture holes, making sure his wound kept on bleeding into them; he had to make sure it got into their bloodstream, after all. He knew it’d worked when the skin around his mouth grew hot, and a piercing scream fell from the human’s lips. Vil had told him once that being turned into a vampire was the most painful thing he’d ever felt- the burning, the cold, the feeling of their body dying and yet continuing to live; it almost pained him when he reluctantly lifted his mouth from their neck and watched their painstriken face as they shook and screamed in sheer pain at the feeling of their body turning.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok, it’s ok...” he said, letting go off their wrists and caressing their hair. Perhaps out of fear or pain, or maybe deep in a delusion brought on by the excruciating pain, they hugged him weakly. Oh, he could get used to this; perhaps it truly was time he got a companion for himself. Sure, it was lamentable he hadn’t even caught their name as a living human; but there’d be plenty of time for them to get acquainted with him.

After all, this wasn’t just his way to preserve their beauty- he had selfish purposes for his actions. For once, perhaps, he’d keep them by his side; if he’d gifted them immortal life, it’d only be fair they spent said time with him, right?

[radioactivepeasant]

Toshinko Week 2020, Day 6: "Bonding"

(This is another excerpt of the story I've been throwing at y'all the last couple Free Day Thursdays. Long post incoming 😅)

The police arrived after Misnomer and his team had already left with the money and some jewelry from the patrons. Toshinori got there just slightly after them, and was horrified to hear how close to death Inko had come. He stayed with her while she offered a tentative description of Misnomer’s true face, and kept an arm around her while she described the encounter and his threat.

"He addressed his threat to the baby?" he asked incredulously. "The Munchkin can barely hear someone at that distance over your heartbeat, right? What was he gonna do, respond in Morse Code kicks?"

Inko snorted, despite herself. "Just like, this little hand punching hard enough for Misnomer to see it flipping him off."

Toshinori smothered an inappropriate giggle. This was a serious situation, after all. 

"When you release him from Nine Month Baby Jail, we should probably not teach him that."

"Probably not," Inko agreed, slightly reluctantly. "Maybe he can learn Vicious Mockery instead."

It took Toshinori a few seconds to regain his composure after the mental image that caused. He cleared his throat and turned back to the poor, bewildered police detective who had been taking Inko's statement.

“Sir, I think it would be in the witnesses’ best interests to be under guard until Misnomer is apprehended,” he suggested, passing the detective a business card. “When composite sketches start circulating, this guy is going to know there’s only two people who saw his face.”

The detective took the card, read it, and paled. After stammering incoherently for a few seconds, he paged a superior and squeaked out something about seeing what they could arrange.

By sunset, agencies had been contacted, paperwork had been submitted, and Toshinori had left to “make arrangements”. He was back in twenty minutes, in full costume as All Might to escort the two witnesses to two different protected locations. The elderly woman was temporarily sequestered in a retirement community where at least four orderlies were sidekicks and a pro hero was keeping an eye on the establishment. (They later discovered that Ms. Yamada and the pro hero had staged a revolt against the quality of food being served and had started a takeout-smuggling ring. She’d also completely overhauled their activities list and started dating the man in the little condo next door within four days.) 

Inko was taken somewhere else entirely.

“Mind you,” All Might said softly from the back of the large vehicle the police were using, “I’ve not been here before. A friend of mine, Principal Nedzu from U.A., arranged the use of this place.”

They were put on a private train car and, to their equal bemusement and slight concern, shipped off for Hokkaido with little fanfare. There was a van waiting for them, also arranged by the all-too-helpful Nedzu, which took them through a small town with bumpy roads and deposited them at the edge of the sea. The house in question was clearly visible in the fading light, and neither had been expecting it at all.

“....oh….” Toshinori muttered.

[[MORE]]

It was a rather Western-styled manor house, perhaps eleven to twelve chambers at a guess. With the tide out, they could easily have waded all the way to the stone steps leading up to the door, but it looked as though a boat would be required to get there when the tide came back in. Well, that certainly took care of the “privacy” aspect. Nobody was going to get in or out easily. Of course, there were drawbacks to that, too.

Inko’s brows crinkled with worry, and she clasped her hands protectively over her stomach. “Toshi...we’re not going to be here long, are we?”

“I don’t think so, no,” he answered, squinting out at the water. “The heroes being assigned to the case may not be in the Top Ten, but they’re strong, and dedicated. We’ll be fine.” 

In truth, he’d have spearheaded the fight himself if it hadn’t meant leaving Inko alone. And he had no intention of leaving her unprotected until Misnomer was safely behind bars.

“Worst case scenario, we’ll just go to the hospital here in town,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “Maybe it’s not Eadu General Hospital, but we’ll make do if it comes to it.”

"Story of my life," Inko scoffed under her breath. 

A faint breeze brushed hair out of Inko’s face with a trace of salt and she breathed deeply. Well, it was nice to be at the seaside. There was a beach not far from her apartment, but it had become a dump in recent years, and Inko hadn’t seen a proper beach in a very long time. The house was, admittedly, beautiful. Maybe she could just treat this like a vacation, and not a “hiding for your life” experience.

“Well,” she sighed and clutched her small suitcase a little tighter, “I suppose we’d better go see the house.”

In lieu of finding a boat and risking tipping when the tide came in, Toshinori opted to simply lift Inko up in his arms and wade through water that barely reached the middle of his shins. When they made it to the steps, there was a rather scandalized looking woman waiting on the patio.

“Oh my good heavens, sir, you can’t just-! That isn’t safe! Dear oh dear oh dear, are you alright, ma’am?”

Toshinori gently set Inko down and bowed. “Are you Mrs. Oiwa? I was told someone would be here to meet us.”

“Yes yes, Oiwa Michi, very nice to meet you, but what on earth were you doing carrying your poor wife across the marsh like that!?” the middle aged woman blustered, “Don’t you know that’s dangerous?”

Inko twitched. Wife?! Toshinori hadn’t told her the specifics of their cover story. But then, by the way he’d stiffened, perhaps he hadn’t known either. Maybe Mrs. Oiwa was just making assumptions. Or this Nedzu person had arranged it without telling them. 

“Ah...I’m...not familiar with salt marshes. I’m very sorry,” Toshinori said at last. “I grew up around forests, I’m afraid! Very different, haha!” 

“I was nervous about boats,” Inko added in a squeak, “They seem so shaky to me!”

Mrs. Oiwa’s face softened into something rather more motherly. “Oh, I understand. Still, if you want to walk here, you’d best use the path along the banks, or else wait until the tide is all the way out. The former owners of this place put down a concrete path so visitors could see where it was safe to walk.” She sighed and patted her face. “Dear me, you gave me a fright! Come along then, I think we’d better get you two settled inside, eh?”

The interior was rather like something out of Edwardian England. Dark, polished wood and patterned wallpaper decorated the parlor they’d entered, which opened into a dining room to the front and a hall or ballroom of some kind to the right. There were paintings along the walls, but many of them were covered with sheets, giving the place a fairly spooky atmosphere, especially with the sun setting outside. Mrs. Oiwa seemed used to it, and ushered them along, showing them where the kitchen was, where the bathrooms and toilets were, and how to work the television. (“It’s a bit finicky depending on the weather, I’m afraid, but we do get all the channels even out here on the marsh,” she’d assured them.)

“I come in twice a day, four hours in the morning and two hours in the evening,” she told them as they discovered the elaborate bedrooms upstairs. “I’ll leave my number on the refrigerator door if either of you need to get in touch with me, and if you need to go out while the tide is high, I’ll show you where the boat house is, or you can call for a water taxi like the last folks used to.”

She insisted on making them wakame udon for dinner before leaving in a small motorboat tethered to the end of the stairs, and wished them a pleasant evening.

“Don’t mind the noises now,” she said as a last farewell for the evening, “I know it can be a little unsettling if you’re used to the city, but it’s only the sea and the animals.”

Then she was gone, leaving Inko and Toshinori on the veranda and a little bewildered. 

“She thinks we’re married,” Inko said faintly, staring at the fading green light on the back of the Oiwa boat.

“So she does,” answered Toshinori in a near identical tone. “I wasn’t expecting that. It makes sense, though.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Inko ran a hand over her very pink face. “Ooh boy. We...I have this sudden urge to play out all the tropes from those “fake married” episodes of the shows I’ve been watching since I was a kid.”

Toshinori guffawed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, me too. Except we’d probably give ourselves away because it would be too funny.” 

They were silent for a moment, then he glanced down at Inko.

"We're totally doing this, aren't we?"

Inko grinned up at him. "We're totally doing this."

Toshinori chuckled -- a little impishly, Inko thought -- turned back to peer at the manor. He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. “Okay, who wants to go back in the creepy probably-not-haunted house first?”

“Toshi!” Inko smacked his arm. “Don’t even put that thought in my head!”

Her stomach twitched and Inko snorted. “You missed, Izuku, he’s over here.” She turned to lean against Toshinori. “Okay, now kick him.”

Izuku, of course, didn’t.

[randomoranges]

drag meeting au part 17

Shortly before Kate arrived, Étienne looked over his apartment one final time and judged that it was presentable. There were no dirty water pots lying about, his paintbrushes were all put away, and the drop cloths were in the wash. His kitchen was spotless, the table was set (and there was even a tall candle ready to be lit at the appropriate time) and his stack of books had been moved back to its appropriate bookshelf on his bookcase. The soft selection of jazz music he had picked for the evening was already playing, he’d showered, shaved, changed his outfit only thrice and had given up on his hair a long while ago. The sushi was ordered and the only person missing was his girlfriend.

 Étienne gave himself a once over in his mirror and figured he looked decent enough. He tugged at a curl just in case it decided to cooperate and when it didn’t, he let it be. Kate had texted him fifteen minutes ago to let him know that she was on her way. He went and sat in his living room, fixed up the television remotes so that they were perfectly aligned and then tried to pass the time.

 This was always the worst – the anticipated waiting – the last few minutes before something started, when he couldn’t get involved in anything else, but at the same time, didn’t have anything to occupy his mind. Therefore his mind went and thought about Kate. It was – interesting how things were progressing with her. He was – surprising himself even. This was not his usual speed when it came to relationships and as much as this was a relatively new experience for him, he also had to admit that it was nice.

 He supposed it helped that his connection with Kate seemed to be strong and that he utterly enjoyed spending time with her even if it was just talking. He liked getting to know her and every time they texted, spoke or saw each other was a gift. Still, he was glad that she was doing all right and that she had only been busy with work. (His mind had conjured a number of scenarios ranging from abduction to hating him and everything else in between. He’d been genuinely worried about her and had been relieved that she had accepted his dinner invitation.)

 When finally the doorbell rang, Étienne nearly didn’t hear it and only sprung into action when his mind registered the sound. He straightened out his shirt one last time and then went to open his front door.

 “Oh, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Kate said in greeting as Étienne let her in. She put the dessert she had brought along as well as her purse down on the little bench by the entrance, before pulling Étienne in for a hug, even though she was still in her coat.

 Étienne managed to shut the door behind her, before he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. It felt as though he hadn’t seen her in ages and he realised how much he had truly missed her as she snuggled deeper into the embrace for a moment.

 “And you’re a delight to see as well, my darling,” He said as he helped her out of her coat, scarf and gloves. He put them away in his closet and before he had the chance to say or do anything more, Kate pulled him back for another hug.

 “Missed you,” She added, kissing his cheek.

 Étienne held her closer still and sought her lips instead to give her a proper kiss and greeting. He feared he was being a little greedy, but Kate seemed not to mind as she parted her lips for him and kissed him back. “Missed you more,” He said when they pulled away, a little out of breath, “Glad you’re here.” Kate laughed and Étienne thought it was the prettiest of sounds in the entire world.

 “Me too,” She admitted as if it were a deep secret she was sharing with him. Étienne beamed and led her by the waist, further inside his apartment, “Well, it isn’t much, but it’s home.”

 Kate had expected Étienne to live in some tiny little apartment, for some reason. It probably had to do with the fact that he was an “artist” and thus, figured he most likely spent a large chunk of his income on art supplies. Another thought had been that he would maybe share a slightly larger place with far too many roommates, but instead, Étienne’s apartment proved to be the opposite of what she had envisioned and he was the only one living in it.

 It was certainly on the smaller end of dwellings, but it wasn’t claustrophobic. It was nicely furnished and decorated, and Kate would describe it as eclectic, but also cozy and charming. There were multiple paintings as well as picture frames on the walls, but each item had its own breathing space. It seemed as though everything had its own space and had been chosen with care to create the overall look, from the bookcases, to the couch and even to the throw over the couch.

 “Do I get the grand tour?” She asked after she gave the dessert to Étienne and he placed it in the fridge.

 “Of course; shall we?” He offered her his arm, which she gladly took and Étienne led her further in as he showed each room of his home.

 “Believe it or not, this is actually the first place I moved into, what feels like ages ago. You can’t tell at the moment, but it gets really great light during the day,” He explained as he walked her towards a first room. “That and this room is ideal for my studio,” He opened the door to the studio and once Kate was in, she felt as though she could tell why.

 The room was large and spacious – perhaps even the largest room of the apartment – maybe even intended to be the master bedroom. There were large bay windows that took up the better part of an entire wall and a large closet that Étienne seemed to use as storage for his supplies.

 There was a desk on the other side of the room with a surprisingly large screen computer, what looked like a really expensive graphic tablet and a myriad of other instruments Kate would have never been able to name.

 But what really got her attention was the giant canvas in the middle of the room. It must have been taller than she was and twice as large. She walked up to it, Étienne following close behind, and she couldn’t help but stare at the bold strokes and colours on it.

 “What is this?” She asked.

 “Oh, just a side job,” He said, as though this wasn’t a giant canvas and this wasn’t a gorgeous painting.

 She quirked her eyebrow at him and Étienne took it to mean that she wanted a further explanation, “Doing a mural at the school I sometimes volunteer at. I like to make a model of it before I bring it to the actual wall – kind of like a giant sketch, but on canvas and with paint.”

 “But this thing is huge! It must take you hours! What do you end up doing with the canvas afterwards?”

 “Depends. If the client wants it, they get it, if not I paint over it or un-mount it and cut it back to whatever size I need.” He explained as thought it was the most logical thing in the world.

 Kate blinked.

 “What?” Étienne asked, maybe a little defensively.

 “These are works of art! You’re telling me you just – paint over them? That you don’t keep them?” It sounded preposterous to her. If all of Étienne’s work looked like this, it was an outcry that he was disposing of them.

 “If I was to keep every painting I ever did, I would need a palace!” He laughed, “Plus, this isn’t really my style – this was a commissioned piece. I have a better one out in the living room, come on, I’ll show you.”

 Before she could say anything else, Étienne led her back towards the entrance and to the living room. She had seen the painting when she had first walked in, but had figured that it was a print of sorts that he had bought – something generic to fill out space on an otherwise empty wall, but as it turned out, Étienne had actually painted it.

 This piece too was on the large side and for as much as the other one in the “studio” had a clearer theme to it, this one was – wild, bold – eclectic. Loud colours, mixed with softer hues. It shouldn’t have worked, yet somehow or other it did. There was energy from the piece and Kate found herself both immersed in it and speechless at the same time.

 “It’s beautiful,” She murmured, after a moment, as though coming out of a trance.

 Étienne’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink and he sputtered something along the lines of it not being a big deal and that this wasn’t even his best, but he was fond of it and had decided to save it from being scrapped.

 “Next time you want to paint over something, let me know and I’ll buy it from you.”

 “Please, you don’t have to do that.” The last thing Étienne wanted was for his girlfriend to feel bad for him and want to “encourage him” out of pity or something of the likes.

 “Well, at least show me and if I like it then I will buy it.”

 “I’ll gift it to you for free. You don’t need to buy it.” Étienne retaliate it.

 “Don’t test me, dear, I will find a way to pay you,” She smiled at him sweetly and Étienne knew that he had already lost that battle. Once Kate set her mind to something, there was no stopping her. And – he kind of really liked that about her, but – he’d also find a way to give it to her if ever there was a piece of his that she was partial to. He was allowed to gift things to his girlfriend, after all.

--

PREVIOUS: XVI CURRENT: XVII NEXT: XVIII

[ghostking-wenning]

Radishes, Chapter 3

This chapter took me like a week to write... and the day I finished it, I wrote all of chapter 4 at once! I hope I’ve been doing a decent job portraying a character with a stutter, and I hope that I’ve been more or less tonally consistent... Let me know! Enjoy 💕👻

2200 words, rated G, NingXian, modern au, first date, et cetera

Qionglin glanced at his phone, yet again. The last time they’d met, Wuxian had slipped him a little note with his number on it, signed with a little “x”. For two days, he’d agonized over what to say; usually the only person he texted was Qing. He drafted more than a dozen messages, each time panicking and closing the app. Eloquent as ever, he finally opted for “Hi, it’s Qionglin.” He paced back and forth in his bedroom, waiting anxiously for a response. Did I wait too long? Maybe he thought I didn’t want to talk to him. What if I already blew it? I should’ve said something else... He caught sight of his face in the mirror: his cheeks were flushed and his brows were drawn so tight he was giving himself a headache. 

“Relax,” he told his reflection sternly. He took a deep breath and sighed, sinking into his desk chair. “I’m being ridiculous. It’s just a text message. Worst case scenario is he doesn’t answer.” Sometimes it helped to remind himself that things were rarely as dire as they felt. “Most likely, he’ll answer. He wouldn’t have given me his number otherwise, right?” He reasoned to the empty air. “Best case scenario…” He pondered a moment. What was the best thing that could happen? What did he want to happen? Shaking his head, he decided it was best not to hope for too much. 

He spun in his chair a few times, trying to fill the waiting. It was too early to make dinner, but too late to do much else. With little else to distract him from staring restlessly at his phone, he flicked on the TV and channel-surfed for a while. Eventually he dozed off, still sitting at his desk. A loud buzz jolted him awake. 

“Oh god,” he gasped, clapping a hand over his heart. He snatched up his phone. 1 New Message. 

“Oh god,” he said again.

A crimson-colored chat bubble read: “Hey you! :)”

Qionglin’s heart did a somersault. Logically, he knew it was absurd to get so worked up over a text message, but something about Wuxian made him feel pretty absurd. Though they’d only met a few times, Qionglin caught himself idly (and frequently) thinking about the way Wuxian’s hair swayed when he walked, or how his eyes sparkled when he cracked a joke. He’d been avoiding putting a name to this feeling, but it was starting to look like a full-blown, schoolgirl-style crush -- his first ever. He could feel the blush blooming on his cheeks. Who knew it’d be so embarrassing to have a crush?

His phone buzzed again.

“What are you doing on Friday?” 

If his heart was somersaulting before, it was doing a full acrobatics show now. Calm down, don’t overthink it… don’t get ahead of yourself… just answer the question.

“Just working. Why?” After a moment, he added a smiley face. That’s how normal people talk, right? He hit send before he could somehow fuck it up.

The three little dots appeared at the bottom of the window as Wuxian typed. Qionglin watched with bated breath as it disappeared and reappeared a couple of times. Maybe Wuxian was as nervous as he was? The thought was vaguely gratifying, however unlikely. 

Another red bubble appeared: “Wanna come to my show? I’ll give you the VIP tour ;)”

A wink! Surely that had to be a good sign!

“I’d love to!” Qionglin typed, then erased. Too strong. Be casual. He tried again. “Yeah, that’d be great!” 

“Awesome! Doors at 8, I’ll let them know you’re coming. Can’t wait!” Wuxian said, followed by a map link.

Qionglin realized he was grinning like an idiot, and he didn’t care. “I look forward to it! See you Friday!!” 

The next couple of days seemed to drag by. It wasn’t that often Qionglin had something so exciting to look forward to. He powered through his chores and farmwork, and all his downtime was spent restlessly thinking about Friday. 

Friday afternoon, he wrapped up early. He took a long, refreshing shower and pulled his hair back the way Wuxian seemed to like so much. Arms crossed, he stood in front of the wardrobe, tsk-ing softly at the rows of coarse fabrics in greens, greys, blacks and browns. Almost all of his clothes were work clothes, faded and worn; hardly rock-concert-worthy. He fished out his least-shabby pair of jeans, and a sage-colored button-down. Fashion was definitely not one of his strong suits, but as he checked his reflection, he thought he looked… decent, at least.

He drove into the city, buzzing with excitement the whole way. The radio wasn’t even on, but he was humming a cheerful tune and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Before he knew it, he was scouting out a parking spot a few blocks from the venue, an old nightclub called Devil’s Den. If Wuxian’s band was playing there, Qionglin figured it must be the coolest place in town. 

Checking his watch, he saw he was more than an hour early. He wasn’t familiar with this part of town, so he strolled around until he found somewhere he could hang around for a while. Halfway up the street was a charming little cafe that boasted “Best Milk Tea In Town!” on the banner over the door. It seemed as good a place as any to kill an hour. 

As it turned out, the milk tea was great! Not that Qionglin had much of a reference point. He really only came to the city for the farmer’s market, or to visit Qing. Had he ever come out here just for fun? He’d certainly never been invited out just for fun before now, which probably should have been a distressing realization. In any case, he was here now, and he was determined to have a great night. 

8 o’clock drew nearer and he began to feel antsy. According to the map, Devil’s Den wasn’t far, but he didn’t want to be late, so he set out with a few extra minutes to spare. The sun was beginning to set behind him as he arrived, casting long shadows over the door that were quite apropos for a place with such a macabre name. From the outside, it really didn’t look like much. The windows were shuttered and painted black, and over the door was a small, plain sign bearing its name. Qionglin was almost a little disappointed, but maybe the inside would be more fun.

There were a few other people already milling about outside, so Qionglin joined them and tried to look like he belonged there. After a bit, a large, scowling man with a shaved head and a nose ring came out of the club and stood beside the door, propping it open. A black T-shirt printed with the word “SECURITY” stretched taut over his burly shoulders and chest. He held a clipboard in his hand.

“Y’all here for the show? Get in line.” The security guard said curtly. “Doors in five.”

Qionglin and the small crowd of strangers lined up and waited for the guard to wave them in.

“ID?” He said, when Qionglin reached him.

“Huh? Oh! Right…” Qionglin pulled out his wallet and fumbled for his driver’s license. “H-here…”

“Wen Qionglin…” The guard read, scanning his clipboard. “VIP, eh? Don’t look like one, heh. Here ya go, kid. Yer ticket’s been paid.” He handed Qionglin a ticket printed on heavy cardstock, with red lettering. “Go inside and turn left.” He waved Qionglin away.

“Um, thanks,” Qionglin mumbled as he walked in. After his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he noticed the decor; the floors were dark, polished wood, thick velvet curtains lined the windows, and a few antique Western-style chairs and ottomans stood around the foyer. Band posters and photos in old silver frames covered the walls. A pair of ornate double-doors stood at the end of the short hall, above them the word “Welcome” was written in curly script. To his left, a smaller, simpler door was labelled “Authorized Access Only”. He glanced around a little awkwardly. Was he authorized? Is that what the big red ticket was for?

Suddenly the door squeaked and swung open. Qionglin made a little startled noise and stepped back, already preparing to apologize, though he wasn’t sure what for. In the doorframe, however, stood Wei Wuxian himself, smiling brightly and dressed to kill. 

“You’re here!” He said, delighted. He reached out and grabbed Qionglin’s hand, pulling him through the door. “I’m so glad you made it!”

Qionglin was still staring. Wuxian looked amazing. His hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the colored streak peeking through the underside. He wore black jeans, fashionably torn at the knees and up the thighs, revealing fishnet tights underneath. Under his studded leather jacket, his shirt was cherry-red, sleeveless, and cropped, showing off his bare midriff. Qionglin was trying to be subtle, but he could tell he was already blushing. Oh my god.

“Wow,” he said softly. 

“What?” Wuxian asked coyly. “Do I look that good? Did I leave you speechless?” The twinkle in his eye was devilish. 

Qionglin could only nod, his cheeks blazing even hotter. How does he do that? How can he just say stuff like that without a hint of embarrassment? He wondered. 

Wuxian laughed coquettishly. “Why, thank you, you’re the sweetest. You look great too,” he added with a wink.

“I-- what? H-hardly… I, uh, don’t know much about … fashion or whatever,” Qionglin floundered. He stared down at his shoes. “You look incredible, though…” 

Wuxian giggled again, the sound refreshing as birdsong. “I do my best,” he said, feigning modesty. “Anyway, lemme give you the tour before I have to go backstage!” He took Qionglin’s hand again and pulled him along. Qionglin tried to focus on the “tour” -- really it was just a short walk through the halls to the greenroom-- but he was distracted by the heat of Wuxian’s hand in his.

“... and these are my bandmates! We’ve been playing together for like, ever.” Letting go of Qionglin’s hand, he gestured to three other people dressed like him, tuning instruments and doing warmups. “Guys, this is my friend, Qionglin.” There was the briefest pause before he said the word “friend”. Qionglin thought he must’ve imagined it.

Qionglin waved shyly. “Nice to meet you…” He was answered with a chorus of “hey”s and “what’s up”s. They didn’t pay him much more mind.

“So that’s the tour!” Wuxian concluded. “We have just a couple minutes before showtime. Let me show you to your seat.” He led Qionglin into the main part of the club, a sprawling room with a long carved bar, dozens of tables and booths, a gleaming dancefloor, and a stage set into the center of the back wall. It was much bigger than Qionglin expected, and more crowded. Wuxian steered him to a table with a direct view of the stage. “Best seat in the house,” he said, pulling the chair out. 

“Thank you,” Qionglin said as he sat. “I’m really excited. This is my first concert, you know?” 

“Oh right!” Wuxian said. “You might want these, then.” He pulled a pair of spongy ear-plugs from his pocket. “The speakers are pretty intense. Don’t worry, you’ll hear us just fine.” 

“Oh, um, got it. Thanks!” Qionglin fiddled with them a little.

“Alright, I have to go now. I’m gonna sing my heart out, just for you, okay? So you better pay attention!” He declared. He spun on his heel, his ponytail swishing as he walked away.

“Just for me…?” Qionglin whispered, watching Wuxian until he disappeared behind a heavy curtain. He swallowed heavily, his mouth suddenly dry. A server spotted him and strolled leisurely over with a carafe of water, like she’d read his mind. 

“Can I get you anything else, hun?” She asked affably. The neckline of her shirt was low, showing off tattoos of bursting fireworks across her collarbones. A pendant in the shape of a bullet drew the eye directly to her cleavage; Qionglin resolutely looked her in the eye. Her eyeliner was sharp and her lipstick was dark, but she wore a friendly smile. 

“Oh, um, I’m fine, thank you, Miss.” He answered. “Um-- your tattoos are nice.”

She laughed raspily. “Thanks! It’s a reference to an old nickname. This your first time here?” She cocked a well-groomed eyebrow.

“Yes…? H-how could you tell?” 

“The clothes, mostly. Most folks in here wear all black, and crosses and skulls or whatever. Kinda nice to see a little color. Anyway, enjoy the show! These punks are a lotta fun.” She waved over her shoulder as she walked away, heels clacking against the floorboards.

Qionglin watched the empty stage for a while. The curtains parted somewhat and a lady in a strappy dress stepped out. She adjusted the microphone, and leaned in. 

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Devil’s Den,” she drawled. “Tonight we have a great lineup of local bands, starting with some of our favorite familiar faces. Let’s give it up for…” She paused for dramatic effect. “The Whatevers!”

Qionglin blinked, confused, but he clapped along with the rest of the cheering crowd. The curtains whooshed open, revealing Wuxian and his band. Qionglin clapped harder and waved a little. I thought they’d have a cooler name… He chuckled quietly.

The Whatevers launched right into a song. A driving guitar melody led into Wuxian’s gorgeous singing. Qionglin’s breath caught in his throat. The spotlight shone down on Wuxian, and everything else faded away. Enraptured, Qionglin stared, listening intently. The lyrics were about new beginnings and taking chances, and Qionglin swore Wuxian was looking directly at him the whole time.

[banesapothecary]

house don’t fall

written for ao3 user shfiftyfive for open fic night! (posting here now that works have been revealed)

read on ao3

David is in the kitchen—or what will be the kitchen, eventually—when he hears the crash. It sounds like wood and plaster hitting the floor, which is a sound he should be used to by now, but it sounded heavier than usual. His mind immediately flashes to worst case scenario.

“What was that?” he calls, hurrying into the main living room where Patrick and their contractor are supposed to be carefully taking down a wall. Patrick is sitting on the floor, covered in dust and surrounded by broken pieces of drywall. A man sized hole has appeared in the middle of the wall. David closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“Wanna try it?” Patrick asks, grinning up at him.

“Mm, nope. I’m good, thanks,” David answers. “Just be careful. You’re supposed to be breaking walls, not your bones.”

“That’s perfect, guys,” their producer, Ray, says. “Why don’t we film some confessionals and get a few more shots, and then we’ll get out of your way for the rest of demo.”

“Sounds good,” Patrick says.

David holds out his hand and helps Patrick to his feet as the camera crew shuffles outside. “Are you okay?” he asks, brushing some dust off his husband’s shoulder.

Patrick taps his chin, cupping David’s cheek as he looks up. “I’m okay,” he says with soft eyes. “I promise.” He leans in quickly to kiss the tip of David’s nose, and David has to look up at the exposed shiplap in the ceiling so he doesn’t get too overwhelmed before the cameras. Patrick’s warm hand trails from David’s cheek and down his arm until he intertwines their fingers.

“You’d better be,” he grumbles when he looks back at Patrick. “This business would go under too fast without you. Me and hammers are a bad idea.”

Patrick laughs, tugging him gently towards the door where their crew is waiting.

***

Talking directly to the camera has never been David’s favorite part, but watching Patrick talk to the camera definitely is. Especially on demo day.

Patrick’s face lights up as he speaks, talking about the walls they’re taking down and the cabinets being knocked off the wall. Patrick loves using his hands, loves getting right into the messier, harder aspects of renovating homes. He loves building something new from what they’ve broken.

But that’s not David’s cup of tea.

David prefers the design, planning out every meticulous detail so the home is perfect for its new family. He loves scrolling through Twitter and reading fans of the show’s reaction to his designs, or through Instagram and seeing how people tried to follow the designs in their own homes. He loves making things beautiful.

Demo day is necessary to get to the design and Patrick loves it, so David won’t complain. He hates, though. David hates knowing something could go wrong, like a beam falling and hitting Patrick or Patrick breaking a bone or seven crashing through a wall.

But he knows Patrick is fine, knows he’ll be fine.

So David smiles for the camera, and it isn’t a fake one because it’s impossible not to smile when Patrick is excited about anything. His husband’s face is like sunshine when he’s happy, and god does David love the sun.

He lets Patrick get in a few teasing jabs as they talk to the camera, and he gets in a few of his own. David rolls his eyes when Patrick attempts to flip a hammer in the air and catch it, but his heart beats erratically at the sight.

“Okay,” David says as soon as the cameras are off them. “You finish up here. I’m gonna go before I have an aneurysm. Please be safe.”

“Always am,” Patrick says, catching him in a quick kiss before heading back inside the house.

“Are you, though?” David is unable to resist calling back.

***

Demo and the renovations moves along right on schedule and before they know it, David’s putting the final touches on the house. David is thrilled. Design day is his demo day.

David stares up at the house from the driveway, admiring the work they’d done. The home they’re working on is beautiful. They’d painted the brick facade white with stark black trim. The front porch wraps around to the large backyard. There’s no denying that Patrick and their crew had done an amazing job.

“Little help over here, David?”

He turns, smirking as Patrick and one of their crew members attempt to get a couch off of the moving truck. “I like the view better over here.”

Patrick glares. “There won’t be much of a view if this couch flattens me.”

“You know I don’t like getting sweaty,” David complains, but he goes to lift a corner of the couch.

“Not what it seemed like last night,” Patrick smirks as they lower the couch out of the truck and begin maneuvering it towards the front door.

“Let’s keep things PG around the cameras, okay guys?” Ray says loudly as they carry the couch inside. “We don’t want to get too raunchy for the viewers, and—”

“Okay, yep. Yeah, we got it, Ray,” David says quickly.

The couch is heavier than David wants to die from the embarrassment, so he nods towards the open concept living room. “This goes in here,” he says, helping steer the couch to its new spot against the wall. He isn’t too worried about where in the room the couch goes. He knows it’ll move at least a dozen times while there are still members of the crew onsite to help. Patrick knows it, too. David can tell from his smirk, and he rolls his eyes in response.

Patrick steps closer and places his hands on David’s biceps, rubbing up and down gently to alleviate the strain. David falls a little bit more in love as he does. “That’s all the heavy furniture, so I’ll get out of your way,” Patrick says, pressing a quick kiss to David’s lips. “I’ll see you at home tonight. Or tomorrow morning,” he adds with a teasing smile.

David rolls his eyes at that. It’s no secret he gets caught up during the decorating, but he can’t help it. He has to make everything perfect. It’s what their clients deserve:  the perfect, beautiful home. David can’t help but want to give that to people, especially when he has so much inspiration from his own.

“Love you,” Patrick whispers so it’s just for David. He leans in for another kiss—David’s cheek this time.

“I love you,” David whispers back. Louder, he says, “I promise I’ll try to get home at a reasonable hour. You know how I get.”

“Yeah,” Patrick says, eyes full of warmth. “I do.”

***

David really, really meant it when he said he’d try to be home early. And he did try.

It just didn’t work.

His feet are starting to ache from how many times he’s paced between the living room and the kitchen, the laundry room and the master bedroom. He’s reorganized the potted plants he’d had brought in at least a dozen times, and the couch in the living room had moved a couple dozen since they’d first brought it into the home.

Even Ray looks tired now, sitting in one of the new chairs David had picked for the space with drooping eyelids. The cameras are still on David, though, watching his every move.

The thing is, David loves this part. He loves designing the houses and putting in all the little intimate details. And he loves their show, loves creating something with Patrick and sharing the beauty and their love with the world.

But he hates being alone on camera.

He knows its a necessity for their line of work, but it makes his skin crawl, especially when he feels like there’s still so much to do.

He nearly jumps when the front door opens, but really, he should’ve expected this. David whips around, raising an eyebrow as Patrick grins at him from the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” David asks.

“Well, someone said they’d be home early,” Patrick says.

“Did I, though?”

“And,” Patrick continues, ignoring David’s interruption, “I thought the responsible thing to do would be to check on my husband.” He meets David in front of the couch, kissing his cheek and intertwining their fingers. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” David whispers, already feeling the tension draining from his shoulders.

“Long night?” Patrick asks.

David nods, sighing as Patrick drops a kiss to his shoulder. He leans into his husband’s side for a moment, eyes closed.

He opens them when he hears another set of footsteps on the porch. David’s eyes flick back to the doorway. “You brought Stevie.”

His best friend grinned at him. “I have pizza,” she says, holding up a box for David to see.

“You brought Stevie!” David says again, smiling this time. He grabs the box from her as she approaches and nods towards the kitchen. They sit at the counter, on the wrought iron stools David had picked out. Patrick sits next him, shoulder bumping into David’s every so often and making him smile.

“The house is beautiful,” Patrick says quietly while they eat. “You’re amazing.”

Warmth fills David as he smiles, and all the stress from before over potted plants disappears entirely. “Thank you,” he says, resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder for a moment.

Stevie wretches next to them. “I don’t know how America can stand to watch you two lovebirds make googly eyes at each other all the time.”

Patrick smiles a lopsided grin. “They know a good thing when they see it.”

David lets out a happy laugh. A good thing. That’s exactly what they are, he thinks as they clean up the pizza box and finally lock up the house for the night.

Tomorrow, they’ll reveal the house to its family. But for now, they go home to their own beautiful house—their own beautiful life—with their hands still clasped together.

***

David takes it back. Design day holds a special place in his heart, but reveal day is his true favorite.

Reveal day is the day their hard work comes to fruition, the day a family gets to see their new home for the first time. There’s something magical about it, something so incredibly beautiful that even on the days David can’t stand the thought of being on camera, it’s all worth it.

He looks over at Patrick as they wait for the couple who’d purchased this home to arrive and knows he wouldn’t change a single thing about their lives. Not even the cameras, if it meant more people got to share this beautiful moment.

A silver Honda pulls up to the curb just down the street. David grins.

“Ready to do this?” Patrick asks.

David slips his hand into Patrick’s as they walk towards the car. “Always,” he says.

The couple loves the house. David can tell as soon as they move the tarp blocking their view. Their eyes go wide with delight, and they practically run to the front door to see inside. David beams, incredibly happy and pleased that they love it as much as he and Patrick love what they did with the home.

They move through the house slowly, the couple noticing and commenting on every little detail David had stressed over the night before.

This.

This is David’s favorite part, watching the families and couples fall in love with their homes. Watching them fall in love with the life they’re going to have there.

As the couple moves through the living room to get a better view of the kitchen, Patrick stays rooted in place, his eyes on David and his lips in a fond smile.

David blushes. He can’t help it. A quick glance around the room tells him all the cameras are focused on the couple for the moment. “What?” he asks softly.

Patrick shakes his head and whispers, “Later.”

David could only assume “later” meant when the cameras were gone, when they were in their own home, when they were in their own beautiful life. Patrick moves past him to tell the couple about the work they did in the kitchen, all of the minute details. He drops a quick kiss to David’s cheek as he passes and David smiles again.

Here they are, he thinks, dedicating their lives to trying to create the perfect home for someone, when something as small and simple as a kiss on the cheek already feels like just that. Patrick meets his eyes from the kitchen, smiling again. Yes, David thinks. Home.

[theworldwithoutmagic]

The Lost Waterbender - Ch 3 - “Don’t Run Into Fire”

The Fire Nation celebrated its victory over the Avatar cycle when they killed the very last Waterbender. With no host to be reborn into, the Avatar cycle ended.

Until 100 years later, when Elsa found that Ahtohallen was more than just memories.

Elsa must now master all 4 elements and the Avatar state if she ever wants to see Arendelle again.

Rating - Soft M

Ao3 Link

Yall know why Im writing this. Elsa is clearly the Avatar after F2! This is going to be eventually femslash. I hope you guys like this chapter!

Aang and Sokka to the rescue. Heh.

Elsa only made it an hour before she noticed a ship in distance. She nearly fell through her own ice in relief. She had felt confident until she started to walk. She wasn't even sure she was still in the Dark Sea at this point. Things were... odd. A ship would at least have navigation equipment, knowledge of the surrounding seas, and could actually help her get home.

She was so happy to see the ship she almost missed the smoke. A pillar of dark smoke rose in the air above the ship, which as she got closer she could now see was massive, black, and seemingly made of metal. She had heard of nothing like this from the castle advisors and she was certain no ships of this build ever visited Arendelle's port. It was even coming right towards her now. She didn't want to assume the worst, but the appearance of the ship put caution into her approach. She considered leaving it alone since it was unlikely to have ever visited Arendelle if she was so unfamiliar with it. And it was rather foreboding, all harsh angles and belching fire.

She deliberated for a while, weighing her options. Ultimately, she decided she would still approach them. She was the Snow Queen and she could protect herself from whatever threat they may pose even if they prove to be hostile in the worst-case scenario. Pirates or a foreign enemy included. Arendelle was famous in this region even before the eternal winter incident and the chances of them knowing of its location or at least the general direction was high. Hopefully they could clear up where she is now, if nothing else.

When it got close enough, she could see people on board in striking red armor. The flame insignia flag it flew was wholly unfamiliar to her. A flick of her wrist and the ice she stood on solidified into a larger, starburst platform. There could be no mistaking who they would be dealing with if they knew anything about this region at all. The Queen of Arendelle was quite intimidating when she wanted to be and had a reputation. The ship was slowing in front of her.

Elsa chose to speak first as soon as they were within earshot. "I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. I would like to speak to the captain of this ship." She stood tall, her voice ringing out over the ice. She could see the people on the ship squinting down at her with wary expressions. They didn't react to her title except to mutter amongst themselves.

Eventually, a man called out, "We would be delighted to receive you, your ah, majesty. We will send a boat."

"No need." She stepped forward, an icy bridge forming to the deck of the ship. The shocked gasps of the crew weren't unexpected. She only hoped they wouldn't react violently. If so, would leave the same way and escape if things did not go well. Elsa tried to tell herself not to be so paranoid, this was just covering all her options. It was only the smart thing to do. She had lost her head when the spirit called her and she refused to let it happen again.

When her feet touched the deck, she let the bridge dissolve behind her. The crew had schooled their expressions. They were obviously trained soldiers now that she could see them clearly. This was a warship. With a very distinctly flame motif. Elsa narrowed her eyes.

"What kingdom are you from?" She began, noticing the metal ship lacked even a sail to propel itself.

"The real question is where have you been hiding, waterbender?" A man in a more decorated suit of armor said from across the deck. One look at his shining metal hairpiece and medals adorning his uniform indicated this was the captain. Or at least someone in charge.

Waterbender is what he called her. She knew that term only because of the spirit in the glacier and she was shocked to hear it from the captain. She steeled herself. "I am the reagent of Arendelle. Located on the southern fjords. Perhaps you know of me as the Snow Queen."

The captain's lips were tight as he considered her. His arms crossed. "Arendelle." He tasted the word. "And how many other waterbenders are you harboring, Queen Elsa?" His mouth tugged into a smile as he used her title. Elsa didn't like it.

"If you are referring to my ice, I am the only one I have ever met with this ability." Elsa swallowed. "What kingdom are you from, Captain? I didn't catch it the first time." She felt she might need the escape plan after all. The hostility was overwhelming.

"This ship, like all others, is from the Fire Nation," he said as if that explained everything. He was pacing around her. "I have one more question for you. Where is the Avatar?"

Elsa couldn't stop her eyes from widening. This was too much to be a coincidence. The captain was grinning widely in front of her now, watching her expression. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." She saw him glance over her shoulder and nod infinitesimally to someone. She made to turn back to the railing but was blocked by a ring of soldiers.

"Unfortunately, I can't let you leave," the captain said behind her. "I am under orders directly from the Fire Lord to detain all waterbenders and bring them to him. Especially those I suspect to be the avatar. Bind her."

Elsa didn't wait for the soldiers to move. A quick wave of her hand brought up a thick wall of ice between herself and the soldiers, and swept the five closest to the railing to the side, clearing the path for her easy escape.

"Don't let her off this ship! This has to be the avatar! We need to get her quickly before she can access the avatar state." She heard someone shouting. The men were lining up.

Then, her world changed.

Jets of yellow fire, hot and directed, blasted her ice away in an instant and blocked her escape route. Elsa traced the stream with her eyes and saw it was being produced from the hands of every soldier on the deck. Fire magic. All of them. It was almost a relief to see other people like her, and Elsa felt frozen. Her entire life she had been the only one. But everyone on this ship... they have fire. Then, the first hot jet caught her in the side and she cried out, trance broken. These people were attacking her. She was outnumbered 100 to 1. She could actually lose.

Elsa whipped into action. The air dropped 40 degrees. Ice covered the feet of every man she could see. She raised her hands and great icy beams gripped the sides of the ship, sending its nose into the air to knock the remaining soldiers off-balance, including the Captain who had somehow already melted his feet free. It didn't work, and they moved fluidly into a martial arts stance she had only seen in paintings from far away before more fire shot from their hands directly towards her.

Her heart lurched. She had only a second to raise an ice wall, feeling like she was back in front of Han's men in her castle. The fire broke through her ice again. It was seemingly explosive in its destruction. She shot a beam towards the captain, hoping to pin him to the deck. He lept to the side like a dancer and dodged easily, sending more fire spinning from his feet this time. Elsa backed up squinting against the heat, throwing more walls up to protect her front. That's when she felt someone grab her from behind.

She was panicking enough that it had begun to snow over the ship, frost creeping over the deck. But the fire users behind her seemed to produce their own heat and had wrested her hands behind her. Their hot touch burned her arms and she was rapidly overpowered. She cried out and tried to pull away, but there were at least three holding her now, keeping her hands immobilized. They had shackles and were just about to click them onto her when a blast of wind knocked them off balance for a moment, and one released their grip on a hand.

She didn't waste a moment and encased them in ice up their chests this time. She made a break for the railing. More men blocked her. Before she could even call her ice, they were swept completely off the side of the ship by another powerful gust of wind.

This time, Elsa saw the source. A young man, a teenager even, covered in blue arrow tattoos was whipping up a windstorm on the deck. He blocked their fire easily with concentrated gusts of unnatural wind that could only be more magic. He was barely touching the ground between each blast. He caught her eyes after he forced another few men over the side with a spin of his staff.

"Avatar! I'm here to help! Just- Iv been looking for you." He was working his way towards her. "I can explain after we get off this ship. I can get you away from the firebenders. You have to trust me."

She pulled more ice up to grip the ship, hearing the metal groan. "Thanks for the rescue." she ground out, "but I just want to get home."

"I have a flying bison! I can take you there, anywhere. Please, just come with me." He was nearly at her side, face all earnest concentration. The whole deck was covered in ice and the captain still stood shooting flames. She was ready to dispute the boy's outlandish claim when a great roar came from above. A shaggy, six-legged creature ridden by a tan-skinned man in a ponytail came from the sky. It had a saddle like a common beast and swept from the sky to hover over the battle. Great balls of fire from the upper deck were already being directed towards it. Elsa forced another swath of ice towards the men firing them.

She was now near enough to the railing now that she could jump into the ocean below and escape. The ice gripping the ship would keep them there long enough she could get a head start. Elsa considered leaving all of them behind. But she realized she still wasn't sure precisely which direction Arendelle was in. The sun was still up and she had little frame of reference. And well.. this kid had risked his own life to free her. Watching him fight the man in front of her she noticed his face was earnest and his strikes were all non-lethal deflections. That decided it for her, in the end.

"Alright, let's go." At the end of the day, he was acting friendly towards her. She had no reason to distrust him and he had a rather convenient method of transportation. Elsa had a horrible feeling she was not anywhere near Arendelle anymore and she wanted desperately to speak to another person, especially another magic user, who knew about this avatar business.

He grinned ear to ear, finally reaching her side. "Hold on!" He grabbed her hand and put one arm around her waist and then a tight blast of air shot them both skyward. She yelped in a very undignified way and had only a moment to feel the weightlessness before they both landed in the saddle of the beast.

"Sokka, get us out of here," the boy called.

"Holy shit Aang you actually got her! And look at this fire nation ship, that's a LOT of ice, they won't be moving for a while." Sokka said. The flying bison rapidly gained altitude, zig-zagging through the sky above the ship. She could still see the ship, completely lifted from the water by her massive pillars. The water surrounding the ship was frozen entirely for a hundred paces out. She allowed herself to feel a bit of pride.

"I know!" The boy cut him off, deflecting another fireball. "It was close. They had her nearly in cuffs." They were already so high the attacks were sparse. She thinks they were almost out of range.

"Well, at least the monks won't kill us now. They can't punish us if we bring them the avatar."

Elsa's mind finally caught up with what they were talking about. "I am not going anywhere except Arendelle. You will take me there, not to any monks." She interjected, with as much queenly majesty as was possible sitting cross-legged in the saddle of the beast. "And will someone please explain this Avatar business to me?"

[yellowmechanicalcat]

fic: the boy and the bird (AU, plance + gen, part 3)

so when I said fingers crossed for daily updates I apparently meant that I will work on it daily until the next chapter is ready to update. (whoops?) a quick word of warning: things are getting spookier in this chapter! as some of you may have already notice, this isn’t an exact adaptation of OtGW, I’m cherrypicking elements as I go. please watch the original if you haven’t!

the boy and the bird Over the Garden Wall AU. At the Harvest Festival, Pidge and Lance get closer; Hunk is asked to dance. (Slight Pidge/Lance; 3,520 words.)

Part 3/7 (previous)

Pidge had been right about the festival looking like fun. The small town was decorated with garlands of autumn leaves and twisted crepe paper, brightly painted pumpkins and buckets of chrysanthemums lining the dirt streets. A cloth banner was strung between the houses, large painted letters welcoming them to the Harvest Festival.

They followed the sound of folk music to the center of town, where a crowd of people had already gathered while a band played. Everyone was wearing old-timey outfits with carved pumpkins on their heads. Some of the men were wearing suits like the man they’d seen in the cornfield had been, while others were dressed like farmers in overalls, plaid shirts and work gloves. Some of the women wore silk evening gowns, their hands and arms covered by long white gloves, but the rest looked more like pioneer women in calico aprons with plain cotton gloves.

Lance’s foot was already tapping along to the music. “Man, I love festivals!” he said enthusiastically. “I bet there’ll be line dancing later-”

“-and food,” Hunk said wistfully. “Pies and cider-”

“-and games and maybe a costume contest-”

“-caramel apples and sandwiches-”

“You two have very different priorities,” Pidge noted dryly, startling Lance. He’d forgotten about the pigeon.

“Jeez, Pidge, that was right in my ear,” he whined.

Pidge sniffed but tried to shift away before speaking in a slightly lower voice. “Look, it’s not like there’s a lot of room in here, okay?”

When they’d first decided to investigate the town of New Beginnings, it had seemed like a good idea to blend in as much as they could. As Lance had pointed out, the best case scenario was that they would look like everyone else, while at worst they’d look exactly like the couple they’d seen earlier and at least they wouldn’t be the only weirdos there. So they’d stolen the jack o’ lantern heads from the scarecrows in the cornfield, as well as the scarecrows’ gloves.

The plan got more complicated when Pidge had decided to tag along, because after a few pointed questions from Hunk the pigeon had admitted that talking birds were unusual even in this weird-spooky-woods part of the world and that it didn’t really want to attract any attention to itself. That had left them with no choice but to include Pidge in their disguise, although they’d quickly figured out that Pidge would have to share Lance’s pumpkin, since Hunk’s was already a tight fit.

Pidge pressed a little closer to Lance’s neck, feet digging into his shoulder. The bird was trembling slightly. The feathers brushing against his neck were surprisingly soft, although they kind of tickled.

“You doing okay?” Lance asked quietly.

“I’m not a big fan of small spaces,” the pigeon mumbled.

“You must have been really excited to leave the nest, then, huh?” Lance teased, grinning.

Pidge made a stifled noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Oh, you have no idea.”

The music ended, the band promising to return after a quick break. The crowds began to disperse, finally clearing the way for them to get a good look at the rest of the town square. Just as Lance predicted, they had booths set up for a few simple games, like a ring toss and, bizarrely, bobbing for apples. Plain wooden tables lined the perimeter, places set with plates but no utensils, and people were already starting to claim their seats on the wooden benches.

But it was the long table loaded with platters of food and cornucopias stuffed with vegetables and fruits that interested them the most. They beelined towards it.

“Look at all the food!” Hunk said eagerly. His stomach growled loudly, echoing his appreciation.

Lance leaned in so he and Pidge could both get a closer look at a heaping pile of corn on the cob. The kernels were pale and the ears were still largely covered with silk.

“Is it just me, or does everything look kind of raw?” Lance said doubtfully.

“Maybe it’s like Mongolian barbecue?” Hunk suggested. “You know, you collect what you want to eat and then they cook it for you later on?”

“But there’s no fire. If they were planning on cooking anything, they’d have built one by now, and I don’t smell anything,” Pidge pointed out.

Hunk and Lance sniffed the air, but all they could smell was the damp pumpkin odor from their jack o’ lanterns. Their investigation was interrupted by one of the pioneer-like women in a long plaid dress shooing them away from the table.

“The feast isn’t ’til later! Run along and wait your turn like everyone else,” she scolded, her voice a jarring contrast with the wide, happy smile carved into her jack o’ lantern face.

They mumbled apologies and moved away, although Hunk couldn’t help casting one last lingering glance at the food.

“I think that cat’s staring at us,” Lance said suddenly. He pointed over towards one of the houses on the square.

But Hunk didn’t see any cat. Neither did Pidge.

“There it is again!” Lance said, pointing a few feet away from the first house. This time, Hunk almost caught a glimpse of something black, although he wasn’t completely sure whether it was a cat or just a shadow. Pidge still couldn’t see anything.

“Let’s go find it!” Lance said excitedly.

“Let’s not,” said Pidge with considerably less excitement.

“Sorry, but I’m with Pidge. What’s so great about cats, anyway?” Hunk said. “Dogs are cooler. They can fetch.”

Lance gestured expansively to the rest of the square. “Look, it’s find the cat or join the line for ring toss until the music starts back up, and honestly? I’d rather go pet a cat. Besides, any cat would have to go through me to get to you, Pidge, so you’re safe.”

Pidge gripped Lance’s shoulder a little more tightly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Hunk could tell when he’d lost. He sighed. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

They headed off in the direction Lance thought he’d last seen the cat and ended up in a side street, where a low groan made them stop in their tracks.

A man was sprawled out behind one of the houses, flat on the ground. A carved walking stick had rolled a few feet away from him. He must have tripped and hit his head when he fell down, since the pumpkin he wore had a deep crack running through it.

Hunk and Lance each took one of his arms and slowly helped him to sit up.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked, crouched next to him.

“I’m fine, thank you kindly,” the man said in a smooth, slow drawl. He reached up to check his disguise, sighing mournfully as he ran his fingers across the crack. “This is liable to break apart any moment, though, and I’ve no time to find another…”

“I can probably fix that!” Hunk offered. He shrugged off his backpack and rummaged around inside until he came up with a roll of duct tape. He tore off a few pieces and covered the crack just as carefully as if he’d been sewing stitches. “There we go. It’s just a patch job, but it should hold for a while.”

With Lance and Hunk’s help, the man stood back up, leaning on Hunk while Lance fetched his walking stick.

The man reached up and felt Hunk’s repair job. “I don’t know what you did but it certainly feels much better. You’re a very resourceful young man.”

Flustered, Hunk reached up to scratch the back of his head, but ended up beaning himself when he forgot about his own pumpkin disguise. “Well, any engineer worth his salt should have duct tape on hand. That’s what my dad always says, anyway.”

“What’s duck tape?” Pidge muttered, Lance shushing in response.

The man was distracted and didn’t seem to have noticed. He was looking down at his shirt, making a puzzled humming noise as he patted down his suit jacket and checked his pockets.

“…I seem to have dropped my badge,” he said finally.

Lance turned and spotted a small piece of cloth on the ground, half-covered by some stray leaves. It looked like something was written on it. He picked it up, brushing off the leaves and dirt before handing it up to the man.

“Is this it?”

“My, you’ve a good eye,” the man said appreciatively. He pinned it back on his jacket lapel, the badge now clearly reading ‘MAYOR’ in shiny gold lettering.

“One kindness deserves another,” said the mayor. “I believe I owe you a favor.”

“Don’t–” Lance started to say, but Pidge cut him off with a swift peck to the back of his head.

“Thank you,” the pigeon said, speaking loudly to mask Lance’s whimper. “We’ll remember, sir.”

“You do that,” said the mayor. For a moment, it almost looked like his jack o’ lantern eyes glinted yellow. “Enjoy the rest of the festival.”

He nodded graciously at each of them and wandered off in the direction of the square, leaning heavily on his walking stick.

“Why’d you say that?” Lance complained to Pidge, trying unsuccessfully to reach through the jack o’ lantern mouth to rub the sore spot Pidge had left. Pidge nudged his hand away with another sharp peck of its beak.

“If someone owes you a favor, that’s valuable. You don’t just let that go,” Pidge scolded.

“Yeah, but we didn’t help him so we could get something out of it! That’s not how being nice works.”

Hunk bumped shoulders with Lance. “Stop arguing with yourself, people are staring,” he whispered.

They were definitely getting a few odd looks from the handful of people who walked by on their way back to the square. Lance perked up when he realized the music had started up again. This time, it looked like people were starting to pair off for dancing.

“Yes! That’s more like it,” Lance cheered, dragging a much more reluctant Hunk with him to go watch.

They squeezed through the crowd until they were at the front, ending up next to a tall, broad-shouldered couple. The man was dressed in a brown suit with a deep green bowtie, while the woman wore a cotton dress in the same green color as his tie, a patchwork apron tied around her waist.

They looked over as Lance enthusiastically clapped along to the lively music, which, as far as Hunk was concerned, was kind of embarrassing.

“Sorry about him,” he apologized to the tall woman. “First time here. He’s a little overexcited.”

She tilted her head, her hands flying up to her face as if surprised.

“That’s wonderful!” she said, sounding completely sincere. Her voice sounded younger than Hunk had expected from the way she was dressed. “Is it your first time to the Harvest Festival as well?”

Hunk nodded. “Yeah. I’m Hunk, and that’s Lance.”

“Welcome, Hunk and Lance!” the girl said. “I’m Shay, and this is my brother Rax.”

Rax just grunted, turning his attention back to the dancing just in time for one of the dancers to pull him into a circle, ignoring his loud protests.

Shay laughed at the sight. Lance whooped encouragingly, Pidge quietly scolding him for the unnecessary loud noise. It turned out that Rax, while reluctant, really wasn’t a bad dancer.

A little shyly, Shay touched Hunk’s arm. “Would you care to dance, Hunk?”

“Huh?” Hunk said, startled. “Oh, um, sure! Just a sec.”

He slipped off his backpack and held it out to Lance. “Do you mind?”

Lance shrugged and took the bag. “Sure.”

Shay took Hunk’s hand and led him away.

Being stuck inside a hollow pumpkin meant that Pidge had very little to do but stare at Lance’s face. So the pigeon couldn’t help but notice him sulking as Shay and Hunk danced together. Lance was twitchy, and Pidge could tell that he was disappointed he wasn’t dancing, too.

“Hey, Lance. I have an idea,” Pidge said quietly, trying not to startle him again.

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t we hit up the food table while everyone’s distracted? It wouldn’t hurt to have a few leftovers for later, and it’s not like it’s going to spoil…”

“But what about that lady who yelled at us before? Isn’t she, like, guarding everything?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s going to be busy for a while,” Pidge said. “Looks like she’s a big fan of the band.”

The grumpy guard had indeed left her post to stand directly in front of the band’s fiddler, loudly cheering. Lance had always thought guitarists were cooler, but he could kind of see the appeal. The guy was a showy musician, managing to dance and play at the same time even in his crazy costume.

“… okay, you convinced me. Let’s do it.”

Pidge let out a soft coo of triumph.

By the time the dancing was over, Lance and Pidge had successfully stuffed Hunk’s backpack with enough food to last a long time, and Lance’s mood had improved significantly. Shay threw her arms around Hunk and hugged him tightly as the music ended, Hunk shyly hugging back before rejoining Lance.

“Have fun?” Lance asked.

“Actually, I did. Shay’s really nice. She was telling me how she and her brother have a farm or something? She invited us to sit with them at dinner. Anyway, thanks for holding my stuff, man.”

“No problem,” Lance said cheerfully, thrusting his bag back at him.

Hunk nearly dropped it, unprepared for it to have doubled in weight. “What the—”

“Pidge and I may have grabbed a few snacks for later, don’t worry about it,” Lance said, throwing an arm around his shoulder to guide him over to one of the long tables, where Shay was waving for them to come join her.

Plates of food were being carried from the center table and distributed to the tables across the square. They slid onto the the wooden bench to sit opposite Shay and Rax, Hunk’s chest protector giving him some trouble, but he managed to sit down in the end.

“Remind me why I’m wearing this again?” Hunk said under his breath.

“It’s part of your look,” said Lance.

Before Hunk could say anything else, the crowd broke into cheers. The mayor was making his way to the center of the square, still leaning heavily on his walking stick.

“Speech! Speech!” the crowd called out.

The mayor raised a hand in greeting. “It’s wonderful to see everyone again! It’s good to be back here, isn’t it?”

Cheers and applause.

“As you all know, the Harvest Festival started in the Old Times, when folks gathered together to celebrate another successful year of harvesting souls and feast on the best of them…”

Hunk froze. Beside him, Lance inhaled sharply. Pidge said nothing, but Lance could feel the bird shiver as it nervously pressed against his neck.

The mayor’s speech continued. “Of course, a few things have changed since those days.”

Scattered laughter.

“Today, the harvest of souls is symbolized by the bounty before you, and we gather together in remembrance of how delicious life can be. And with that, let’s feast!”

“Let’s feast!” the crowd roared back in approval.

All around them, people began to take off their gloves and burst into excited chatter, loading their plates with food. Hunk and Lance felt chills run down their spines as they watched everyone reach for and grab and prod at the food.

Their hands were nothing but bones. And with their gloves off, most of their sleeves were loose enough that it was obvious that their arms were bones, too. In fact, there was a pretty good chance that behind those jack o’ lantern grins were just skulls.

And no one seemed to care. They were all perfectly at ease with the idea of having dinner with someone who was part or maybe completely a skeleton.

Lance and Hunk had both come to the conclusion that it was safer to keep their gloved hands hidden under the table until they figured out what was going on.

Lance reached out and tapped Hunk’s knee. “I think we may have a small problem,” he whispered, Pidge still pressed against his neck.

“A small problem?” Hunk replied shrilly, forgetting to whisper in his panic.

Shay looked over at them, holding a tray of new potatoes in her literally skeletal hands. “What’s the problem?” she asked curiously.

Hunk shook his head and let out a strangled laugh. “I don’t know where to start–”

Sensibly, Shay put a potato on his plate, and another on Lance’s. The potatoes were freshly washed but very obviously raw. “Well, why not start with these? Rax and I harvested them ourselves.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s great, really great,” Hunk said, his voice choked, staring at her hands.

“You must’ve worked yourselves to the bone,” Lance said without thinking, then groaned quietly as he realized what he’d just said.

Luckily, Shay just giggled. “The Harvest Festival only happens once a year. It’s worth working hard for.”

“So remind me again what we’re doing here? The Mayor said something about, uh, eating souls?” Lance asked, trying to sound casual.

Shay’s brother snorted. “You really don’t know anything, do you, first-timer?”

“Rax, that’s rude!” Shay scolded him.

Rax just shrugged and turned his attention back to the food, ignoring her.

“Every living thing has quintessence, it doesn’t matter whether it’s animal or vegetable. So we get our quintessence from the food we gather each year,” Shay explained. She gestured to the rest of the table. “See? It’s simple!”

All around them, people were pretending to eat, holding vegetables and fruit up to their pumpkin-head mouths and inhaling deeply. But as they watched, they started to realize that it wasn’t just pretend. They could see something — was it quintessence? — come out of the food and be sucked into each carved mouth. Whatever it was faintly glowed with a pale blue light.

The more light was sucked from the food, the worse it looked. Apples turned brown and rotted, skin practically slipping off and leaving behind only the core. Squash melted into mush, carrots curled and wilted.

But the people’s skeletal hands were starting to look more substantial as the pale blue light extended from the food in their hands and wrapped around their bones. Later on, Hunk would describe it like watching a gelatin mold set, and Lance would argue it was more like a watching fruit slices freeze inside of ice cubes.

Shay inhaled her potato with gusto as it sprouted eyes and dripped moldy puddles onto her plate. “Mmm. Everything even smells better this year. The quintessence is a lot fresher than usual.”

Hunk shuddered. “I think I’m gonna barf,” he muttered queasily.

Lance looked over at him and noticed he was starting to glow with the same faint light they’d seen on the food. Horrified, he realized that it wasn’t just the food’s quintessence that was being sucked in, but theirs as well, tendrils of light beginning to rise from his own arms as his stomach started to churn.

Pidge made a shrill noise of alarm, right in Lance’s ear. “We can’t stay here! We’ll be drained, too!” the pigeon hissed.

Lance abruptly stood up and dragged Hunk with him, startling Shay and Rax. They looked up, half-absorbed food in their bony hands.

“Sorry, just gotta take Hunk for some air,” Lance said apologetically.

He stumbled over the bench as they climbed over, but Hunk managed to catch him before he wiped out (much to Pidge’s relief). Unfortunately, Hunk didn’t let go of his arm, clinging to him the same way he had earlier that morning. If this kept happening, Lance’s arm was going to be permanently black and blue.

“There might not be anything here when you get back,” Rax warned.

Shay, apparently fed up, elbowed her brother in the stomach, causing him to choke and cough out some quintessence. The corn in his hand suddenly reverted from wilted and brown to dry and brittle.

“Don’t listen to him. I’ll save you a plate!” Shay called, the concern audible in her voice.

Hunk could only manage a wheezing noise in reply.

“We’ll be back in a few!” Lance called in a voice that was much higher than normal, saluting as they backed away slowly until they’d turned the corner.

Once out of sight, they pulled the jack o’ lanterns from their heads, tossing them aside and gasping for air. As the pumpkins smashed on the ground, they froze and looked at each other with wide, frightened eyes, but behind them the Harvest Festival continued. No one seemed to have noticed. Their skin was back to normal, the eerie blue light of escaping quintessence no longer visible.

“Time to go?” Pidge suggested in a small voice, wings flapping nervously.

“Time to go,” Lance agreed.

Hunk heaved, decided he wasn’t actually going to throw up, then gave a shaky thumbs up.

They tossed their stolen gloves next to the pumpkins and took off running straight out the gate and down the road, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between themselves and New Beginnings.

To be continued.

[animes-trash]

LawLicht - Medieval AU

Hellooooow~ Here’s the fic I wrote with @karmakitty’s help (aka @kavourikarma​) for the Event in the SL  Discord Server~  (Long Post /!\)

Enjoy !

"Wait for me, Lichtan !" Hyde said, chasing after Licht who was walking too fast for Hyde's legs. During his tour, Licht had a weekend off. Kranz, Gil and Hyde took hours to persuade him not to practice for these two days. Licht, being as stubborn as always, protested but they ended up finding a kind of compromise: a medieval festival.

Hyde was the one who proposed this idea and explained that music had a big place in Medieval times and that there are inevitably activities or things to see in connection with the piano, and there were surely stables with horses, and Licht loved them. Even though Licht didn't say it, he really loved this idea. His father showed him a lot of hero movies, some taking places in the Middle Ages with knights, princesses and beautiful white horses. Certainly it was a bit cliché now, but Licht didn't care. He was also happy to go with Hyde, but he'd never admit it, let alone to this Demon.

"Walk faster, Shit Rat." They woke up early in the morning, on Licht's demand. Kranz drove them there and would pick them up later in the evening. "Hurry up. I want to feed Mr. Horse, " Licht said as Hyde managed to follow his brisk walk.

"I know you want to see the horses, but you could at least wait for your poor hedgehog!" Hyde whined as Licht rolled his eyes. They finally arrived at the entrance. It was a well-known festival that moves from city to city, they were lucky to be in the right place at the right time.

The venue was originally an old castle with a very large park, today it was filled with different stands related to Medieval times. Fake weapons, fancy clothes, replicas of old books and other stands for eating or drinking. Other places reconstructed Middle Age moments or facilities such as a pillory, a guillotine, a system for pumping water from a well and more. Places in the castle were also used for the festival, tours were organized and stalls were set up.

Most of the people were costumed. Licht, having no idea how to dress, kept his usual sweatshirt. Hyde, meanwhile, put on a typical villager costume of the time, although he kept complaining that these clothes were not true to reality. Sometimes he regretted not having kept his clothes from that time.

Once at the festival, Licht was already looking for the stables. They had a program but no map of area, so Hyde went to ask for one at the info booth. Licht took it from his hands and made a beeline for the animals. Hyde stood in front of him to prevent him from moving forward. "Lichtan, what’s the rush? The stables are at the other end of the park! Come on, let's do things in order. We can start by seeing the castle, a visit just to start. " Licht agreed and followed Hyde toward the big castle. A guide was ready to start the tour and there were just a few places left. They signed up and waited with the other people.

It was a large castle that was renovated not long ago, but still kept its old decorations, explained the guide. Most of the secret passages have been condemned but some of them are always accessible. Once the last latecomers arrived, the tour began. The group entered the castle with the guide's comments.

Licht had to admit that he was impressed by all these paintings and antique furnitures. "Things were really like that before?" Hyde wore a bored head "Basically, yes, even if this one has been modernized almost everywhere, if you like the old castles, I'll show you much bigger and more beautiful." He winked at Licht . Licht was always amazed by all the things Hyde had to show him. Whether it was places or others, he always finds a way to surprise him.

"On your left, the ballroom." says the guide. Licht turned his head and saw a magnificent period piano, obviously very well maintained. He imagined himself playing it in the Middle Ages, during a party filled with people dancing. He approached it but had to stop when he saw a barrier with "do not touch the instrument" written on it.

"Looks like we aren’t allowed to play it." Hyde said as he glanced at Licht, who looked upset.

"That’s stupid. As an Angel, I should have the right to play whenever I want." He tried to cross the barrier, but Hyde stopped him before the guide brought them back to order.

"Angel-Chan, I'm sure there's a piano to play outside. Maybe that one's too old to be played ?"

"A piano is never too old." Licht said to himself. But before he could reply, their guide called them.

"Gentlemen, here please, the visit will continue."

Licht reluctantly left the piano. Hyde wanted to find a way to make Licht happier, and he thought the horses would surely cheer him up. Continuing the visit, Hyde was lost in his thoughts. But when he returned to reality, when the guide announced that they were going upstairs, he realized that Licht had disappeared. He blinked to make sure he was not dreaming. How could Licht have disappeared ?!

He started to panic, maybe he'd been kidnapped by one of Tsubaki's subclass hidden in the group? When the guide had his back turned, Hyde snuck away from the group. Maybe Licht had just gotten lost? He prayed that was the case. He ran, looking everywhere he could, then heard a noise coming from the wall.

Intrigued, he knocked against the wall. "Hum, is there anyone in there ?" A silence ensued, then a blow was heard, followed by a voice.

"Shit Rat, is that you?! Where the hell am I?!"

Hyde was surprised and relieved at the same time. "Y-you're in the wall, Licht ! What did you do ?" He searched for a way to open the wall, or anything to get Licht out.

"Nothing !" He stopped, and after thinking, continued. "Well, I found an open closet and wanted to know what was inside, but it wasn’t a closet. I went in and the door closed, and now I'm stuck in this weird dark passage."

Hyde sighed. "You must have fallen into one of those old, secret, condemned passages that the guide was talking about earlier ... Wait, I'll get you out of there! Where is the closet you found?" Licht told him where it was, a few feet to the right. Hyde found it and tried to open it, but it was securely shut. He returned to the part of the wall where Licht was stuck. "Lichtan, the door doesn't open ... Stay there, I'm going to search another entry!" He began to look for logical places where a passage could be hidden.

"There's no way I'm waiting here, Shit Rat. I, as a pure and true Angel, am going to find the exit by myself." Hyde would have bet that Licht was doing one of his angelic poses. But he refused to leave Licht alone in a place like this without protection.

"No! It's too dangerous, Licht ! This passage has probably not been used for centuries! Everything is decrepit inside. Without light, you could hurt yourself, or worse, something could collapse on your head." He began to imagine the worst scenarios. He could hear Licht sigh.

"If you don't find a way in 5 minutes, I'm searching for the exit alone."

Fine, Hyde thought. It's always better than nothing. He recalled the times when he lived in such places and where these passages were generally hidden. Maybe pulling one of the candlesticks on the walls ? No, he wouldn't have the time to try them all. He remembered that hatches were often used and rather easy to spot, if we knew how to find them. He ran to the top floor, taking care to turn himself into a hedgehog to go unnoticed by the group, who was still visiting.

Once he was where the passage was supposed to be, he searched the corners of the rooms on the floor. He was relieved to find a latch that he pulled. Without having the time to understand what he was going through, the floor opened under his feet and he fell. "Ouch!" He yelped, rubbing his back. Even Licht's kicks were less painful than that. He shook his head to regain his senses and got up. He grunted, there really was no light here. He got up and hurried to join Licht. He called his name, paying attention to the volume of his voice. They could get in trouble if they find him there. He was careful not to break anything.

"Lichtan? Where are you ?" Hearing no answer, he was afraid that Licht had left by himself. But his fears stopped when he felt a kick in the back.

"I'm here." Hyde reached out and grabbed Licht's shoulders to make sure he didn't leave.

"Why did you hit me?! I'm already hurt here!" He whined.

"Oh, so the big noise was you."

"Yeah ! I came here to save you~ I deserve at least a kiss, don't I ?" They were still in the dark, but Hyde could easily guess that Licht was rolling his eyes.

"First of all, let's get out of here, where is the exit ?" Hyde took Licht's hand in his to make sure they were not separated.

Surely thanks to the fact of being a hedgehog, Hyde was able to see well enough in the darkness.. But when he was back to the hatch, it had closed. "Wait, the hatch was there !" He searched for a way to re-open it, but found nothing.

"You idiot rat, you knew the doors were closing behind you but you didn't do anything to keep it open ?" Licht tried to hit him, but given of the lack of light, it was the wall that took the hit. Licht groaned in pain.

"Hey there, Angel-Chan, you'll hit me as much as you want outside, but be careful here, please. I don't want any risk for you to be hurt." Hyde took a minute to think. They were in a hidden passage, and a passage inevitably leads to a place, it only remains to hope that it is not catacombs or dungeons, he thought. He took Licht's hand again and started walking.

"Wait, where are you going ? If I take a wall in the face, I kill you right here." Licht said.

"Let's follow the passage. With a bit of luck, it'll take us out of here." Licht nodded and they followed the path. Without realizing it, Licht grabbed Hyde's arm, who smiled. "Be careful here Lichtan, there are stairs."

He obviously warned him too late, because Licht missed the first step and slid forward. Luckily, he was holding Hyde's arm which, after a mini heart attack as he felt Licht fall, grabbed him by the waist. "What did I tell you? If you wanted me to grab you, you should just have said it~." Licht could tell how close Hyde was, because he could feel his breath on his lips. His teasing tone did not help his blush going away.

"Shut up, Demon! Let me go!" He said a bit too loudly.

"There's no way I let you fall again." Hyde smirked as he lifted Licht into his arms.

"H-hey put me down !"

Hyde went down the rest of the stairs. It must surely lead to the ground floor. "Mmmh, let me think about it... no."

"I'll kill you if you don't !" Hyde had to be careful because Licht was moving a lot, and he wanted to avoid a fall.

"Come on, we both know you won't kill me, you love you too much~." Licht wanted to answer but didn't know what to say. He just groaned and swore to hit Hyde the second they'll come out of here.

After a few minutes of walking, Hyde still refused to put Licht down, even if they were no longer on the stairs. They finally arrived in a dead end. "Great ! And now, we're stuck." Licht complained. Hyde put him down.

"No, we're not, watch this." He scanned the wall and found what looked like a door handle. In texture, Hyde guessed that it was very rusty. He had to break the door so that it opens, looking out to the back of the castle. They both took great breaths of oxygen, happy to breathe fresh air again.

Visitors to the festival saw them coming out of this old door, astonished. But they quickly traced their paths. "So, can the brave knight have a kiss from the princess, n-" a kick cut off Hyde's question. He ended up on the ground. "Why so much hate, Lichtan ?" He whimpered again, but got up quickly when Licht started to leave without him. They went back to the entrance of the castle and saw their guide, visibly panicked.

He ran to them, asking where they have been. Licht hesitated to tell them to watch their doors but withdrew. He ended by saying that they were lost and had to find the exit all alone. Now, to the delight of Licht, they went to see the stables. But before that, they stopped at a few booths on the way. They had different games related to the Middle Ages. But Licht turned his head when he heard music.

"Shit Rat, where is that music coming from?" Hyde looked at the festival schedule and saw that it was time for a small concert of about an hour of music with old instruments. Licht decided that they would go see the horses later, so they headed for the concert. Although it was nice to hear, Hyde had to admit that he spent more time looking at Licht's adorable expression when he listens to the music he likes rather than watching the musicians themselves. Hyde even caught a smile as he looked at Licht's eyes and the childish glow that shone inside.

At the end of the concert, they decided to go for a drink before going to see the stables. Licht even bought food to give the horses. On the way, Licht asked "Was the music really like that in those times ?" He really liked it, it was very different and the same at the same time. In addition, there were instruments he had never heard of.

Hyde took a moment to answer. "Kinda, yes. I have to admit that I'm surprised they still have these old instruments. I used to play one of them but I stopped when it became old-fashioned." Licht stopped walking, surprised. Hyde raised a bow in confusion. "You can play an instrument ?" He chuckled, amused by Licht's surprise. They started walking again as Hyde answered. "Yeah, even more than one. I was quite versatile back then. But now these instruments doesn't exist anymore, or are only played at festivals like here. I guess the only one who remains is the violin now." Licht's heartbeat fastened as he heard that Hyde played.

"You can play violin? You? A demon can play such an angelic instrument?"

Hyde laughed. "Well, yeah. I was a pretty good player. Even though I surely wasn't as good as you." He winked at him. "But I haven't played in ages. I'm kinda rusty now."

"Why did you stop ?" Licht asked him, still confused.

"Well..." he paused, as if he was searching for the right words. "I guess that, after Ophelia's death, I lost taste in pretty much everything, music included." Licht suddenly felt dumb for making him remember those painful memories. When he looked at Hyde, he saw his empty eyes. Not knowing what to say, he took Hyde's hand in his and held it tight as he interlaced their fingers. Hyde's heartbeat quickened, surprised but happy by this sudden gesture of affection from Licht.

They continued their way to the stable in silence, holding hands. They finally arrived in the stable. The horses were hitched with the equipment of the Middle Ages, there were also small ponies, here for the tourist attraction and the children could take a ride. Licht was amazed by these horses, which had nothing to envy to the proud steed of yesteryear.

He went to feed the horses after asking permission from the manager, then stopped in front of a big white horse. "Hello, Mr. Horse. There, eat this food. You are as white as an Angel. You could be a horse of Heaven." Hyde giggled as he watched him pet the horse. Licht glared at him. "Don't listen to this rat, Mr. Horse. He's dumb."

Hyde faked an offended look. "Hey ! I'm not dumb !" This time, Licht was the one laughing.

They saw people arrive on horses, and others leave. Hyde went to ask the manager if it was possible to go for a ride. He answered that yes, the horses knew the route and made a tour of the festival returning to the stables. "What do you think, Angel-Chan ? Wanna ride on a horse ?" Expecting Licht to be happy, he was surprised to see him pale, with fear on his face.

"Er, no, I’ll pass." He stuttered.

"What? Don't you love horses? It could be fun!" Hyde insisted.

"No, thanks. It... scares me."

A blush appeared on his face as he said the last two words, whispering them, almost as if he was ashamed. Hyde had his eyes wide open. Licht? Scared of something? He stared at him, as if waiting for an explanation. After a little while, Licht started. "When I was around 10, my parents took me to a riding stable. Riding a horse seemed fun to me, but when I was on it, it moved a lot and I fell. I had my helmet but I still ended up with a broken arm. I haven’t rode a horse since then."

Hyde understood, as a pianist, breaking an arm must be really terrible. He didn't want Licht to be scared but he still wanted to do the horseback riding. He had an idea and went to ask the manager, after he agreed, Hyde came back to Licht. "Well, if you're scared of riding a horse alone, then you'll ride it with me !" Licht raised a brow. "The manager said we could be two on one horse. You can go behind me ! I swear I won't let you fall."

After hesitating, and being influenced by Hyde's incitement, he agreed. The manager wanted to help them get on the big horse, but seeing the ease that Hyde had, he withdrew and told them that the ride lasted about half an hour, then he left to take care of the other horses. "How do you even climb up there ?" Licht asked, impressed by the size of the horse that passed him.

"It's like riding a bike, hard to forget." Hyde answered as he reached out his hand to Licht, to help him up. A small stepladder was also placed beside the horse for assistance. He finally managed to get behind Hyde, with his help. Hyde took the reins and, as the horse started to walk, Licht became frightened and wrapped his arms around Hyde's back. "Don't worry, Angel-chan." said Hyde, as he turned his head to smile at Licht.

"Look at the road, Shit Rat. Of course I can't get hurt. I'm an angel, after all." Hyde chuckled and nodded.

The horse trotted and Licht was surprised. It wasn’t as scary as he would have thought. He rested his head on Hyde's shoulder. With the slow pace of the horse, he found it kind of relaxing. He also found the ride interesting. To tour the festival on horseback, it doesn't happen every day ! After about 45 minutes, they were back in the stable.

"Mr. Horse, don't get me wrong, I love you, but why are you so tall?" Licht asked the horse as he was trying to climb down. Hyde had a devilish grin as he held Licht in a "princess style" before setting him back on the ground. Licht blushed as he yelled. "Will you stop taking me in your arms?!" He struggled, but Hyde had a too strong a grip on him.

"We'll see, maybe if you stop moving." he grinned at him. Licht sighed and stopped, but Hyde was having way too much fun to put him down. He waved at the manager as they were leaving the stable.

Licht gave Hyde a death glare that almost made him shiver. "Fine, fine. I'm letting your down. But you must admit that you would make a perfect miss in distress and me a perfect knight~ !" Hyde set him on the ground or else he knew Licht would murder him. They spent a moment looking at the different stands and the different activities the festival had to offer. The end of the day arrived fairly quickly. "Is there anything else to see now ?" Licht asked Hyde, who looked at the planning. "Well yeah, it's written 'Surprise Event : reconstruction of a Middle Ages scene by a troupe of actors', it could be cool, what do you think?" They agreed and made their way to the place indicated on the map.

A small crowd surrounded the square, which made Licht and Hyde sneak between people. Once they were able to see the scene properly, Licht was surprised. "Looks like it's an execution." He turned to Hyde and did not expect to see his face as it was. He was stiff and his face was as pale as a ghost. His eyes were wide open and visibly filled with tears that were obviously waiting to roll down his face. His expression was panicked.

Licht became very worried for half a second. "Hyde? Are you okay? Why are you like that?" His first question was stupid, obviously he wasn't okay. Hyde stuttered a few incomprehensible words and was shaking with tremors as his tears began to roll down his cheeks. Licht didn't know what to do, but he did not have time to think anymore. Hyde took his hand and ran as fast as he could, knocking people over, probably without noticing.

But at the moment, he didn't care at all. His gestures were directed only by two thoughts: to flee and to protect Licht. Once out and far enough away from the festival, Licht ran out of breath and stopped, forcing Hyde to do the same. "Hyde! What happened?! Why are we running?!" Hyde didn't answer and, still in panic, summoned his rapier. He held Licht tight against him in a protective way with one hand, and held his rapier on the defensive with the other.

Licht tried to say something but was soon cut off by Hyde's voice, broken by sobs and panic. "Are they still here?! Where are they?! Stay close to me, Licht. I can't-- I won’t let them get you!" Licht, deciding that he had to do something quickly, grabbed Hyde by the shoulders and slapped him hard enough to shake him.

"Hyde! There's no one here ! We're alone and far away from the festival! I am not in danger and neither are you! Now, breathe. There's a bench near us. You'll sit, take deep breaths and tell me what happened."

Hyde stared into Licht's eyes, he looked frightened now, but he seemed to have regained his senses. After a few seconds, he burst into tears. He took Licht in his arms as hard as he could and buried his head in his neck, shedding all the tears he had. Licht wheezed, due to the force with which Hyde hugged him. Surprised at first, he quickly wrapped his arms around him.

As carefully as possible, Licht made sure to sit on the bench next to them. He ran a hand through Hyde's hair to try to calm him down a bit. "Shhh, everything is going to be okay. We're safe here and there's nothing to worry about." He whispered in his ear in the softest voice he could manage..

As he spoke, Hyde hugged him tighter. A few minutes passed like that. Hyde crying and Licht stroking his back and running his hand through his hair. After a little while, his crying became sobs, and his sobs grew smaller, until it became a mere sniffle. When Licht felt that his breathing was calm, he asked him the question, still in a soft, calm voice. "So, you want to tell me what happened ?"

Hyde took a moment to think, and then began. "When I saw the guillotine, it reminded me of Ophelia's death and how I was so... powerless. I had the flashbacks of her head rolling to the ground..." His voice broke as he spoke the last sentence. Licht took his hand and held it tight. After a few breaths, Hyde continued. "And then, instead of seeing her, I saw you. Being the one who'll get your head cut off. I saw those people, who're only actors, killing you. It scared the hell out of me. Because I don't want to be powerless like that ever again. I want to move forward and be able the protect the one I love. And I-" His voice broke again and he began to sobs again. He buried his head in Licht's neck again, mostly because it was warm and reassuring but also because he was a bit ashamed of being seen like that.

He tried to speak again stammering but Licht cut him off. "Hey, Hyde, listen. I won't get hurt. I won't get killed. If something tries to attack me, I can beat it because I am strong enough to protect myself." He paused,  breathed and then continued. "And think, if things gets more complicated and it appears that I can't handle it myself, I know you'll always be here to protect me just in case. Think of how strong you and I are. Together, we can beat anything. From the most dangerous subclasses to the old demons of the past. You don't have to worry about me, I am safe and I will stay safe, because you're by my side."

Hyde looked up to look Licht in the eyes. To his surprise, he was smiling at hi . One of those smiles he used to give him when he still thought he was a hedgehog. A small smile that, coming from Licht, represented a lot more. Licht wiped Hyde's tears away with his sleeve. He left his hands on Hyde's cheeks, causing Hyde to smile weakly. "I love you, Licht."

There was no need to say more. Although both of them had realized their feelings ages ago, Hyde was now the first to say them out loud. In a natural tone, Licht answered him. "I love you too, Hyde." With a blush on his cheeks, Hyde leaned toward Licht and, seeing he wasn't backing away and that he was blushing too, placed a kiss on his lips. A kiss that became longer than he expected, given that Licht was kissing back.

It was as if the kiss was the last thing they would do in their life. They put as much of their passion and love for each other as they could into the kiss. Hyde placed one of his hand behind Licht's neck, deepening the kiss.Their tongues met. Hyde knew one thing, he’d only tasted Licht's lips for a few seconds but he was already addicted.

They had to separate when they ran out of breath. They looked into each other's eyes, smiling. But that moment did not last long, a flash of light stopping him. Surprised, they turned and saw Kranz with a camera in his hand with Gil behind him.

"HA! I KNEW IT ! SEE GIL, I WAS RIGHT! AWWW YOU TOO ARE TOO CUTE. GIL WE SHOULD HAVE COME EARLIER I'M SURE WE MISSED IMPORTANT THINGS." Licht retreated at least three meters away because of his embarrassment.

"What are you two doing here ?!" Licht yelled.

"Well it's time. We came to pick you up. We're a bit late, though. We didn't find you at the festival so we searched for you and found you two here." Said Gil, in his usual calm voice.

"Oh... yeah, makes sense." Licht said, still embarrassed and red as hell.

"Anyway, let's get going, I'm hungry," said Hyde, who was almost as embarrassed as Licht. He grabbed Licht's hand and began walking toward the car, followed by Gil and Kranz who didn't forget to take pictures of them holding hands. "Wait, I'll be right back." Said Licht quickly as he went toward the festival again, though it had already ended. They watched him, confused. While waiting, Hyde asked Kranz, blushing. "Don't tell Licht I said that but could you... send me the pictures ?" Kranz had a wide smile. "Of course ! I can even send you more if you give more things to photograph." He winked at Hyde, who was definitely embarrassed to the max.

He turned to Gil, who had been staring at him for a while. He did not need to ask him what he was thinking. He has been with him for hundreds of years, after all. He just smiled. After a little while, Licht came back with something in his hand, which he gave to Hyde. It was a sandwich with ham and cheese.

Hyde had his eyes wide open. "What ? You like that, right ? Stop making that face. And could the three of you stop watching me like that? Kranz, for the love of God, please put that camera away!" He blushed and got in the car, followed by Kranz and Gil, and finally Hyde, who gave a last look at the festival. "Well, even if it wasn't always good, that day was kinda awesome." He thought as he bit in the sandwich and got in the car, next to Licht.

Fin~

[multifandom-kpop-scenarios]

can i get a hoshi request? can it be dramatic spy au where you guys are infiltrating and the others are part of youre team, but you ha v to go in with hoshi? thank you I hope your well

Hi, Hello!!!! Thank anon for sending in this fun request. This was originally going to be done by Admin Rex, but they were busy, so I decided to take it on instead. This is such a fun idea. I feel like it could turn out long, so i decided to post it in parts, though I am not sure how many at this moment. I really hope you like it :) Enjoy~

Word Count: 2,119

Admin KZ

You lurched forward in your seat slightly, as the car you were in came to its final stop. Through the tinted windows you could see a long red carpet that led up to the large casino, lit up bright. The building was so tall that you couldn’t see the top from where you were parked. From your place in the backseat. You turned your attention to the person in the driver’s seat, “That’s my que.” You looked into the rearview mirror, and meet eyes with the driver as he says with a wink, “Have fun.” You looked to the seat in front of you, and at the man in the passenger seat. His eyes were focused on the computer that was mounted on the dashboard. You could see little lights lit up across the map on the screen. You didn’t pay it too much attention as he said, “Everyone is in position.” He was serious as he turned to the driver, “It’s time to begin, Seungcheol.” Seungcheol turned flickered the headlights to get the attention of the worker outside the door. He began to head to your door, preparing to open it for you. “Stay safe, you two.” You say to Seungcheol and Jihoon, as you reach out and ruffle Jihoon’s hair. He swatted your hand away as he fixed his hair with a shake of his head, “Keep us informed.” The door was pulled open allowing you to step out and head for the doors.

The doors were opened by a worker, after you flashed them your invitation. You were greeted with a long and rather lavish lobby. The walls were adorned with numerous paintings and the floors were decorated with furniture that was made of the finest materials. There was a few people waiting in the lobby, dressed in the expensive clothing, much like what you were wearing. You looked down at yourself, you take in your attire that was colored with accents of deep purple. By the standards that this gathering held, you wouldn’t stick out, so blending in was no problem, making your job for tonight that much easier. You walked and sat on the chair that was facing away from the staircase. You pulled out your phone and sent a message to a group chat. During the wait, you begin to run through the mission in your mind, as you recalled.

—–

24 hours earlier

You were seated at a chair looking at the maps before you. The agency that you worked for need information on the intentions of Lee Minki, a business tycoon. He was placed on your agency’s radar for numerous questionable acts and suspicions of illegal dealings. Your team was assigned to gain the information needed by infiltrating a invitation-only gathering at Minki’s casino, The Casino Palace. Seokmin, the researcher of your team, was showing you the layout of the large casino. The last thing any spy would want is to look like they were lost or that they didn’t belong. “Your mission will be completed with your team of four.” You looked at the names of the people you were working directly with, trying to gain a grasp of the roles you would all play. Seokmin continued, “Also, if things go wrong there will be a few of our guys undercover as staff at the casino as well as a few acting as ‘guests’” This job was pretty big, you worried a bit and asked questions about numerous plans, in case the first one failed. Seokmin gave a wide smile at your concern, “Don’t worry so much,” he said as he patted your shoulder, “I don’t think anything bad will happen. The worst case scenario would be you blowing the place up, which I doubt would happen.” He left with a joyful laugh. ‘That’s true,’ you thought to yourself, ‘I am a professional. Everything will go smoothly.’

—-

“I didn’t leave you waiting too long, did I?” said a deep voice, with a hint of playfulness. You turned to see one of your main team members dressed in a suit with a bright red tie. He reached his hand out to pull you to your feet, “Don’t you look nice?” you say back, taking in his full appearance. His right side of his lip raising higher than the left in response, as he said, “I could say the same to you.” Ready to really begin the mission, he held out his arm, offering it to you, “Ms._______.” You accept it with a smile, “Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” You both begin to walk in the direction of the main hall, where your mission would begin. “The rest of our team is already waiting for us in the hall.” Wonwoo explains, “They are trying to find a higher up, with a key card to open the necessary doors.” You nod in response, “Then it’s my job to get it.” You carried a earpiece in your ear, just as the rest of your team did staying completely connected at all times. As you passed the large doors you were greeted with a noise level that was pretty high, given the environment. You looked at across the room and noticed gambling tables along the walls. You could hear people’s excited shouts and chatter along with the rattling of the roulette wheels. There were tables in the center, occupied by people enjoying the fine menu for a place like this. Directly on the other side was a stage with an orchestra playing music, as well as a dancefloor where pairs of people held onto each other going in slow circles. The amount of colors you could see was beautiful, varying in shade. Here and there, you could spot the staff easily, as they were wearing completely white outfits. Wonwoo led you down the staircase as he informed the team of your arrival. To start, you both occupied a table, waiting for information on a good target. As you wait, you and Wonwoo talked about random things, like books, before he changed the subject rather suddenly, “You know.” He started, “He is going to be speechless when he sees you.” You raised an eyebrow, not exactly sure who he was referring to. Before you could ask who he was referring to a voice came through the earpiece, “Target spotted at roulette table 1004.” You replied quickly as you stood, “Got it.” You nod to Wonwoo before leaving in the direction of the table. You spot only a few people occupying the table, right away you recognize the dealer. He looked like any other dealer, wearing the clean white uniform, but you recognized him by his short light brown hair and his inviting energy. You approached the stool and sat, “I’m in, Mr…” you glance at the dealers name plate, acting like it’s the first time you had ever seen him, “Yoon.” You met his eyes with a smile, he places his hand on the table, holding eye contact. You glance to see that his fingers were pointing to the seat next to you, before placing your chips onto the table. You glance at those you were playing with, giving them all a small smile. You take a second longer to commit to memory the man sitting in the seat next to you, your target. He was definitely an executive with the clearance you needed in order to be successful, but, by his looks alone, a tough nut to crack.

You try to warm those around you up, pulling on a mask that you used in situations like these. Slowly you began to accumulate winnings, with a little help from your dealer friend. Jeonghan was always good at deceiving when it came to games like these. With this group of people, it wasn’t surprising that as you accumulated more wealth, they began to open up to you. The man besides you held out his hand, “My name is Younghwa. I have been to a lot of events like these, and I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you.” You reach out your hand in greeting, introducing yourself as he takes your hand, “_______.” You pull your hand away, “You probably wouldn’t have seen me before because I tend to blend in.” He gives you a look up and down before saying, “You are too beautiful to blend in.” You were shocked by his boldness, but his attention was pulled away by a knock on the table, “Sir,” Jeonghan said, “Everyone is waiting for your turn.” You quietly watched as he played his turn. He then smiles at you before waving down a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. “You must be thirsty. Let me get you a drink.” He says as you begin to worry. Most drinks were alcoholic beverages, and you weren’t comfortable drinking on the job. That worry vanished completely, when you recognised the man approaching with two drinks, “Sir, Ma’am.” He said while smiling at you. You grab the drink closest to you, watching the waiter as he winked slightly at you before walking away. In politeness you raise your glass slightly acknowledging Younghwa who was holding his own drink besides you. You placed the glass at your lips and tilted it back back slowly, the coolness passed your lips but the burn of alcohol never came. Your glass only had water. You are relieved, saying to yourself, ‘Thank you, Jisoo.’ The game continued for only a little longer before a second “employee” with a round face came over and quickly ushered Jeonghan away with an exaggerated story of some horrible accident in the kitchen that needed to be taken care of. You collected your chips into your bag before standing and turning to Younghwa, “What do you recommend for passing time?” You couldn’t let him leave your sight, you still needed the card key. “Dancing is rather fun if you have someone to dance with.” He then asked, “If you don’t have anyone, I would like if you accompanied me to the dance floor.”

“Of course,” you accepted right away. This was the chance you were waiting for.

He led you to the dance floor. You could gradually hear the music better with each stride you took towards the dance floor. You passed Jisoo, tucking your hair behind your ear while making eye contact, a signal. Over your earpiece, you could hear Jisoo update the team,“ ________ is headed for the dance floor with the target. Adjust positions accordingly.”

When you stepped onto the dance floor, Younghwa pulled you to face him. He placed one hand on your waist while keeping his other hand on yours. You placed your free hand on his back as your feet followed his lead. You tried to relax, but you were not necessarily comfortable dancing with a complete stranger. He made small talk while you danced, and despite your discomfort, you gave answers, keeping up the act. “Back left pocket.” You hear Wonwoo’s voice. ‘Well’, you say to yourself, ‘This is going to be embarrassing.’ You braved yourself before reaching your hand down quickly to his pocket only to feel…..NOT the card. Your cheeks flared, as you silently cursed Wonwoo, “Well, I do have bad eyesight after all.” You could hear his quiet laughter from here. You placed your hand back on Younghwa’s shoulder, “Sorry. I slipped.” “That’s a lame cover.” You hear Wonwoo say. ‘Just wait,’ you say to yourself, already planning how you will greet him. “I see it in his suit breast pocket.” A different voice says, this is the first time you are hearing from him tonight. Your heart jumps slightly, but it succeeded in bringing back your focus. He continues, “Okay I have a plan.” You focus on his words eager to finally get away. “Jun is coming your way, don’t be shocked when he bumps into you. Take your chance then. I am coming to pull you away.” It was a few seconds later when you feel a body collide with your own from behind. You gasp and fall into Younghwa, hands landing on his chest. Younghwa focuses his attention on Jun as you straighten yourself up. You feel sorry for the negative attention he was getting, but you are thankful. The voice with the plan suddenly spoke from besides you, “May I cut in?” Without waiting for a reply from Younghwa, he softly grabs your hand and leads you further onto the dance floor. He extends the arm that holds your hand above your head, prompting you to do a spin. You do so with a laugh, and then he pulls you close. “Hey, Soonyoung.” He smiles bright, “_______. I have been looking all over for you.”

[maarmendes]

« THE BISTRO »          Chapter 1

Warnings: 18+, Violence, cursing, mental illness and many others.

Genre: angst; enemies to lovers.

Pairing: Dabi x OC; Ramon

Word Count: 1736

Tags: @bnhabookclub​

[Wattpad Link]

I walked inside The Bistro with a tired sigh and a slump on my shoulders. The shop was empty aside from the usual costumers sitting by the windows with a clear view of the dark ally outside. The horrible sight of the painted brick wall was subdued with the rustic decor of the bar. With dark brick walls framed with old posters and a couple of neon signs, the old shop felt like home to me. When I got it, this place as abandoned. From the metal chairs to the dark wood counter, I got everything in this place with hard work and luck. I fought the urge to kick my shoes off right there and instead struggled with my jacket. It had been another long night and I was ready to call it a day when one of my workers approached me.

"Morning, boss! There's someone here to see you." The shy young boy greeted me at the door, helping me take my jacket off.

"Shit," I grunted in defeat and then turned to the boy with a reassuring smile and a pat his ginger curls. "Thanks for opening the shop, JJ. Good job today."

I gave up on the idea of sleep - knowing very well that whoever was here to see me wouldn't let me catch up on my so needed beauty sleep - so I might as well manage my own place. I slipped into the back room and took a moment to wash my face and check myself in the mirror. It always bugged me how pale and thin I was, especially with the obvious dark circles under my eyes making me look like a zombie from that stupid game JJ plays. My bright yellow eyes didn't help either, most idiots would think I was related to some lizard. Jerks. At least my black hair stayed straight no matter what, falling on my shoulders smoothly, the only part of me I liked. I arranged my muscle tank top - an ironic name, considering -  as it fell loosely on me, tucking it into the waist of my ripped skinny jeans and ran my fingers over the twirls and colors of the tattoos that covered both my arms. Colorful designs of various shapes and forms playfully hiding many scars behind them that only I would ever know about. A cry coming from the bar shook me back to earth and I walked back, looking around for whoever was being so loud. My glare fell on the fool leaning against the counter, waving happily at me.

"Pro Hero: Bird Brain." I feigned innocence as I worked on his usual order. "Oh, oops! I mean, Hawks, the chicken hero."

"It's always a pleasure to be insulted by you, my dear Ramon. You look as beautifully dead inside as ever." I rolled my eyes as I handed him his drink.

"Alright, Kei." I leaned forward, searching his face. "Business or pleasure?"

"Sorry, Sugar Plumps! I'm here on business." Hawks sipped, taking a serious tone. "I've got someone who wants to meet you, but we need to talk first."

"Alright, let's talk. Go wait upstairs and behave."

The bird winked before making his way to the backroom and up the stairs that lead to my apartment, as he had done many times before. Watching him made me feel a tad sentimental. He might be an asshole, but he was still someone I used to love. I downed an expresso and prepared myself for whatever stupidity he had in store for me this time. I found him lounging on my bed like he owned the place, staring mindlessly at his phone. I kicked his feet off the bed and crossed my arms, waiting for him to apologize, only to receive a stupid smirk in return. I gave up on him and sat down on the couch.

"So, what's up? It's not like you to think before doing anything, so I assume it's important." I grabbed the cup of whiskey I'd been sipping on last night from the coffee table and kicked my shoes off.

"You're all business and no fun, as always. Why don't you join me in the bed?" I answered his playful wink with an uninterested glance and he took that as his queue to get up. "As you wish... Remember when I said I was going undercover?"

"Sure. I thought you meant you'd be gone years, not weeks."

"If you missed me you could've said so, babe." Keigo plopped down next to me, his arm falling around my shoulders lazily, only to be kicked away from me. "Okay, okay, I'll stop! The League of Villains wants to recruit you."

"WHAT?!" I dropped my cup and grabbed onto his neck, hard. "Keigo, did you lead those idiots my way?! You know they've got eyes on them and I can't afford the spotlight, Keigo! It's bad for business! Now they'll annoy the living shit out of me. Both villains and heroes, if I'm lucky." I got up with a scoff. "For for fuck's sake, bird brain."

I walked over to the drink cabinet and pulled out one of the bottles. I felt Keigo move closer to me, his chest against my back and his hands rubbing up and down my arms tenderly. I elbowed him back but he chuckled and closed the distance between us again, no doubt enjoying annoying me.

"Come on, Ramon... You can't expect me to share information without a source." He placed a soft kiss on my shoulder, batting his stupid eyes up at me as if those puppy eyes wouldn't feed my anger further.

"Why are you always dragging me into your bullshit? You keep using me then leaving me in a tight spot." I clicked my tongue and turned too him. "This is why we never worked out. You can't respect my one and only rule. Keep your business to yourself."

"But you'll always be there to support me no matter how many times I screw you over! That's why I know you won't mind meeting a member of the League of Villains tomorrow night." He smiled sheepishly as I took a step closer to him.

"Bird brain..." My tone was low and intimidating. "Did you already set that meeting up?"

"Well... No?"

"Okay... Let me rephrase." I grabbed him by the shirt. "Did you come here to ask me or warn me?!"

"Guess you caught me there, darling." I shoved him slightly and he flung his hands up. "Wow there, tiger! Careful with the merch!"

"I swear to God, Keigo... I'm so tired of your shit." I dragged him down the stairs by the shirt and shoved him towards the door. "Get the fuck out."

"Come on, sweet cheeks! You can't do me like that..." He bargained as he composed his outfit. "You know I'll be back tomorrow."

"Keigo, if I see your stupid face again you might as well bring your own fucking sauce 'cause I'm turning you into chicken nuggets!"

I yelled at his retreating back as the idiot stumbled out of my shop as quickly as possible, leaving me with a few surprised clients to apologize to. I mumbled a half-assed apology as I made my way back behind the bar to prepare myself another drink, this time I made my own concussion of caffeine and alcohol - a secret recipe I'll never share.

I wandered back to my apartment, my annoyance fueled my motivation while I sat on the sofa reading the file I compiled the night before. The guy had paid me to get information on his 'business partner', something about some investment gone wrong or whatever. It should've been some easy money for me, but it turned out to be a long file filled with hard to get sensitive information the police would rather not fall into any hands at all let alone bad hands.

I considered what could happen if I didn't deliver the file. I couldn't lie so there was no way I'd hide this from my client and I wouldn't get paid if I didn't share it. Someone had to pay for the booze. It's not like I cared whatever happened, worst-case scenario someone ended up dead. Sure, it was dirty work but it paid the bills and kept the bar running.

I had to admit I liked it but it wasn't easy living, especially when the cops came knocking on my door complaining about how I sold to sensitive information to someone they were looking for. In my defense, I didn't know the information would-

Psyche.

I knew. I didn't care. Especially when I get paid extra for keeping my mouth shut.So, I slid the file into an envelope, glued it shut and added it onto the pile of files on my desk. I knew JJ would complain when he found out I didn't order them again but he'd do it for me nevertheless.

Thankfully business was slow and I took that opportunity to close up early and catch up on some needed sleep. The next morning JJ took care of opening The Bistro and I'd took over when I came back later that evening. Today I had to stop by the police station to drop and pick up a few files, just another one of my deals with our finest law enforcers. When I opened the door to the shop, a feeling of dread sent a shiver down my back.

It was way too quiet for happy hour.

"W-Welcome back, B-B-Boss..." JJ stuttered. He sat at the table on the far back, some freak's arm hung over his shoulders as the asshole sipped his beer calmly. I instinctively pulled my gun off the back of my pants and pointed at the bastard who responded just as quickly, lighting his hand with a blue flame burning way too close to JJ's face for my liking.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man's raspy voice echoed in the bar and I lowered my weapon reluctantly. My disgusted glare dug holes into his smug face as I moved leisurely to sit in front of him.

"Thought so." He wrapped his hand around JJ's throat and chuckled lightly. "Good girl."

A/N: Hello and welcome to The Bistro! I hope you enjoy your stay and be careful :^D Thanks for reading and drop a vote or comment if you can <3

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